Complete Plays, The (297 page)

Queen Elizabeth

The loss of such a lord includes all harm.

Grey

The heavens have bless’d you with a goodly son,
To be your comforter when he is gone.

Queen Elizabeth

Oh, he is young and his minority
Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you.

Rivers

Is it concluded that he shall be protector?

Queen Elizabeth

It is determined, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.

Enter Buckingham and Derby

Grey

Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.

Buckingham

Good time of day unto your royal grace!

Derby

God make your majesty joyful as you have been!

Queen Elizabeth

The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby.
To your good prayers will scarcely say amen.
Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she’s your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Derby

I do beseech you, either not believe
The envious slanders of her false accusers;
Or, if she be accused in true report,
Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.

Rivers

Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby?

Derby

But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from visiting his majesty.

Queen Elizabeth

What likelihood of his amendment, lords?

Buckingham

Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully.

Queen Elizabeth

God grant him health! Did you confer with him?

Buckingham

Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement
Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain;
And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

Queen Elizabeth

Would all were well! but that will never be
I fear our happiness is at the highest.

Enter Gloucester, Hastings, and Dorset

Gloucester

They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:
Who are they that complain unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter and speak fair,
Smile in men’s faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abused
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Rivers

To whom in all this presence speaks your grace?

Gloucester

To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all! His royal person,—
Whom God preserve better than you would wish!—
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

Queen Elizabeth

Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
The king, of his own royal disposition,
And not provoked by any suitor else;
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
Which in your outward actions shows itself
Against my kindred, brothers, and myself,
Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

Gloucester

I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad,
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack became a gentleman
There’s many a gentle person made a Jack.

Queen Elizabeth

Come, come, we know your meaning, brother
Gloucester;
You envy my advancement and my friends’:
God grant we never may have need of you!

Gloucester

Meantime, God grants that we have need of you:
Your brother is imprison’d by your means,
Myself disgraced, and the nobility
Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions
Are daily given to ennoble those
That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

Queen Elizabeth

By Him that raised me to this careful height
From that contented hap which I enjoy’d,
I never did incense his majesty
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest advocate to plead for him.
My lord, you do me shameful injury,
Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

Gloucester

You may deny that you were not the cause
Of my Lord Hastings’ late imprisonment.

Rivers

She may, my lord, for —

Gloucester

She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so?
She may do more, sir, than denying that:
She may help you to many fair preferments,
And then deny her aiding hand therein,
And lay those honours on your high deserts.
What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she —

Rivers

What, marry, may she?

Gloucester

What, marry, may she! marry with a king,
A bachelor, a handsome stripling too:
I wis your grandam had a worser match.

Queen Elizabeth

My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne
Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs:
By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty
With those gross taunts I often have endured.
I had rather be a country servant-maid
Than a great queen, with this condition,
To be thus taunted, scorn’d, and baited at:

Enter Queen Margaret, behind

Small joy have I in being England’s queen.

Queen Margaret

And lessen’d be that small, God, I beseech thee!
Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.

Gloucester

What! threat you me with telling of the king?
Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said
I will avouch in presence of the king:
I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.
’Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot.

Queen Margaret

Out, devil! I remember them too well:
Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower,
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

Gloucester

Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king,
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs;
A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
A liberal rewarder of his friends:
To royalize his blood I spilt mine own.

Queen Margaret

Yea, and much better blood than his or thine.

Gloucester

In all which time you and your husband Grey
Were factious for the house of Lancaster;
And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband
In Margaret’s battle at Saint Alban’s slain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
What you have been ere now, and what you are;
Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

Queen Margaret

A murderous villain, and so still thou art.

Gloucester

Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick;
Yea, and forswore himself,— which Jesu pardon!—

Queen Margaret

Which God revenge!

Gloucester

To fight on Edward’s party for the crown;
And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew’d up.
I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward’s;
Or Edward’s soft and pitiful, like mine
I am too childish-foolish for this world.

Queen Margaret

Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world,
Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is.

Rivers

My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
We follow’d then our lord, our lawful king:
So should we you, if you should be our king.

Gloucester

If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar:
Far be it from my heart, the thought of it!

Queen Elizabeth

As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
You should enjoy, were you this country’s king,
As little joy may you suppose in me.
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

Queen Margaret

A little joy enjoys the queen thereof;
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.

Advancing

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pill’d from me!
Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects,
Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels?
O gentle villain, do not turn away!

Gloucester

Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight?

Queen Margaret

But repetition of what thou hast marr’d;
That will I make before I let thee go.

Gloucester

Wert thou not banished on pain of death?

Queen Margaret

I was; but I do find more pain in banishment
Than death can yield me here by my abode.
A husband and a son thou owest to me;
And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance:
The sorrow that I have, by right is yours,
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

Gloucester

The curse my noble father laid on thee,
When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper
And with thy scorns drew’st rivers from his eyes,
And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout
Steep’d in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland —
His curses, then from bitterness of soul
Denounced against thee, are all fall’n upon thee;
And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed.

Queen Elizabeth

So just is God, to right the innocent.

Hastings

O, ’twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless that e’er was heard of!

Rivers

Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

Dorset

No man but prophesied revenge for it.

Buckingham

Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.

Queen Margaret

What were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now on me?
Did York’s dread curse prevail so much with heaven?
That Henry’s death, my lovely Edward’s death,
Their kingdom’s loss, my woful banishment,
Could all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
If not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales,
Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children’s loss;
And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck’d in thy rights, as thou art stall’d in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen’d hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England’s queen!
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
Was stabb’d with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
That none of you may live your natural age,
But by some unlook’d accident cut off!

Gloucester

Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither’d hag!

Queen Margaret

And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world’s peace!
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal’d in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother’s heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father’s loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested —

Gloucester

Margaret.

Queen Margaret

 
Richard!

Gloucester

 
Ha!

Queen Margaret

 
I call thee not.

Gloucester

I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought
That thou hadst call’d me all these bitter names.

Queen Margaret

Why, so I did; but look’d for no reply.
O, let me make the period to my curse!

Gloucester

’Tis done by me, and ends in ‘Margaret.’

Queen Elizabeth

Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.

Queen Margaret

Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
Why strew’st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Fool, fool! thou whet’st a knife to kill thyself.
The time will come when thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback’d toad.

Hastings

False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.

Queen Margaret

Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine.

Rivers

Were you well served, you would be taught your duty.

Queen Margaret

To serve me well, you all should do me duty,
Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:
O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!

Dorset

Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.

Queen Margaret

Peace, master marquess, you are malapert:
Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
O, that your young nobility could judge
What ’twere to lose it, and be miserable!
They that stand high have many blasts to shake them;
And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.

Gloucester

Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess.