Riv.
Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty
Will soon recover his accustom'd health.

Grey.
In that you brook ^note it ill, it ^note makes him worse:
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
And cheer his grace with ^note quick and merry words ^note.

Q. Eliz.
If he were dead, what would betide of ^note me ^note?

Riv. ^note
No other harm but loss of such a lord.

Q. Eliz.
The loss of such a lord includes all harm ^note.

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

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

Riv.
Is it ^note concluded he shall be protector?

Q. Eliz.
It is determined, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the king miscarry. Enter Buckingham and Derby. ^note

Grey.
Here come the lords ^note of Buckingham and Derby.

Buck.
Good time of day unto your royal grace!

Der.
God make your majesty joyful as you have been!

Q. Eliz.
The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby,
To your good prayers ^note will scarcely ^note 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 ^note.

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

Riv. ^note
Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of ^note Derby?

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

Q. Eliz.
What ^note likelihood of his amendment, lords?

Buck.
Madam, good hope; his grace speaks ^note cheerfully.

Q. Eliz.
God grant him health! Did you confer with him?

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

Q. Eliz.
Would all were well! but that will never be:
I fear our happiness is at the highest ^note. Enter ^note Gloucester, Hastings, and Dorset.

Glou.
They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:

Who are they that complain ^note unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern and ^note love them not? ^note
By holy ^note Paul, they love his grace but lightly
That fill his ears with such dissentious ^note rumours.
Because I cannot flatter and speak ^note fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth ^note, 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 ^note truth must be abused
By ^note silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Riv. ^note
To whom ^note in all ^note this presence speaks your grace?

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

Q. Eliz.
Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
The king, of ^note his own royal disposition,
And not provoked ^note by any suitor else;
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
Which in your outward actions ^note shows itself
Against my kindred ^note, brothers ^note, and myself,

Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. ^note

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

Q. Eliz.
Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloucester;
You envy my advancement ^note and my friends' ^note:
God grant we never may have need of you!

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

Q. Eliz.
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 ^note suspects ^note.

Glou.
You may deny that you were not ^note the cause ^note
Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

Riv.
She may, my lord, for— ^note

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

Riv.
What, marry, may she? ^note

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

Q. Eliz.
My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne
Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs:
By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty
With ^note those gross taunts I often ^note have endured.
I had rather be a country servant-maid
Than a great ^note queen, with this condition,
To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at ^note: Enter Queen Margaret, behind. ^note
Small joy have I in being England's queen. ^note

Q. Mar.
And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee ^note!
Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.

Glou.
What! threat you me with telling of ^note the king?
Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have ^note said ^note
I will avouch ^note in presence of the king:

I dare adventure to be ^note sent to the Tower ^note.
'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot ^note.

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

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

Q. Mar.
Yea ^note, and much better blood than his or thine ^note.

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

Q. Mar.
A murderous villain, and so still thou art.

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

Q. Mar.
Which God revenge!

Glou.
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 ^note for this world.

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

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

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

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

Q. Mar. ^note
A little ^note joy enjoys the queen thereof;
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing. ^note
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing ^note that which you ^note have pill'd from me!
Which of ^note you trembles ^note not that looks ^note on me?
If not, that, I being ^note queen, you bow like subjects,
Yet that, by you ^note deposed ^note, you quake like rebels ^note?
O gentle ^note villain, do not turn away!

Glou.
Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight?

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

Glou.
Wert thou not banished on pain of death?

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

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

Q. Eliz. ^note
So just is God, to right the innocent.

Hast.
O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless that e'er ^note was heard of!

Riv.
Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

Dor.
No man but prophesied revenge for it.

Buck.
Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.

Q. Mar.
What! were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now ^note on ^note me?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Their kingdom's loss ^note, my woful banishment,

Could ^note all but ^note answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
If ^note not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours ^note by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy ^note son, which ^note now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward my ^note son, which ^note was ^note Prince of Wales,
Die ^note in his youth by like untimely violence ^note!
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 ^note;
And see another, as I see thee ^note now,
Deck'd in thy rights ^note, as thou art stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd ^note hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
And so wast ^note thou, Lord Hastings, when my son ^note
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
That none of you may live your ^note natural age,
But by some unlook'd ^note accident cut off ^note!

Glou.
Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag!

Q. Mar.
And leave out thee? stay ^note, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye ^note of thine,
Unless it be whilst ^note some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly ^note devils!
Thou elvish-mark'd ^note, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave ^note of nature and the son ^note of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy ^note womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag ^note of honour! thou detested— ^note

Glou.
Margaret.

Q. Mar.
Richard!

Glou.
Ha! ^note

Q. Mar.
I call thee ^note not.

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

Q. Mar.
Why, so I did; but look'd ^note for no reply.
O, let me make the period to my curse!

Glou.
'Tis done by me, and ends in ^note ‘Margaret.’

Q. Eliz.
Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. ^note

Q. Mar.
Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider ^note,

Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
The time will come that ^note thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse that ^note poisonous ^note bunch-back'd toad.

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

Q. Mar.
Foul shame upon you! you have all ^note moved mine.

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

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

Dor.
Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.

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

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

Dor.
It toucheth ^note you, my lord, as much as me.

Glou.
Yea ^note, and much more: but I was born so high, ^note
Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,
And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.

Q. Mar.
And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
Witness my son ^note, now in the shade of death;
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest ^note.

O God, that seest it, do not suffer it;
As it was ^note won with blood, lost be it so! ^note

Buck.
Have done ^note! for shame, if not for charity. ^note

Q. Mar.
Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
And shamefully by you my hopes ^note are butcher'd.
My charity is outrage, life my shame;
And in that shame ^note still ^note live my sorrow's rage!

Buck.
Have done, have done. ^note

Q. Mar.
O princely Buckingham, I'll ^note kiss thy hand,
In sign of league and amity with thee:
Now fair befal thee and thy noble ^note house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

Buck.
Nor no one ^note here; for curses never pass
The lips of those ^note that breathe them in the air.

Q. Mar.
I'll not believe ^note but they ascend the sky,
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping ^note peace.
O Buckingham, take heed ^note of yonder dog!
Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
His venom ^note tooth will rankle ^note to the death ^note:
Have not ^note to do with him, beware of him;
Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him ^note,
And all their ministers attend on him.

Glou.
What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham?

Buck.
Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. ^note

Q. Mar.
What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
And soothe ^note the devil that I warn thee from?
O, but remember this another day,
When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow,
And say poor Margaret was ^note a prophetess.
Live each of you the subjects to ^note his hate,
And he to yours ^note, and all of you to God's ^note! [Exit.

Hast. ^note
My hair doth stand on end ^note to hear her curses.

Riv.
And so doth mine: I muse why ^note she's at liberty.

Glou.
I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother,
She hath had too much wrong; and I repent
My part thereof that I have done to her ^note.

Q. Eliz. ^note
I never did her any, to my knowledge.

Glou.
But ^note you have all the vantage of her wrong ^note.
I was too hot ^note to do somebody good,
That is too cold in thinking of it ^note now.
Marry, as ^note for Clarence, he is well repaid;
He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains:
God pardon them that are the cause of it ^note!

Riv.
A virtuous and a ^note Christian-like conclusion,
To pray for them that have done scathe to us.

Glou.
So do I ever: [Aside] being ^note well advised:
For ^note had I cursed now, I ^note had cursed myself. ^note

Enter Catesby. ^note

Cates.
Madam, his majesty doth call for you;
And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. ^note

Q. Eliz.
Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? ^note

Riv.
Madam, we will attend ^note your grace. [Exeunt ^note all but Gloucester.

Glou.
I do the wrong ^note, and first begin ^note to brawl ^note.
The secret mischiefs ^note that I set abroach
I lay unto the grievous ^note charge of others.
Clarence, whom ^note I, indeed, have laid ^note in darkness,
I do beweep to many simple gulls;
Namely, to Hastings, Derby ^note, Buckingham;
And say it is ^note the queen and her allies
That stir ^note the king against the duke my brother.
Now, they believe it ^note; and withal whet ^note me
To be revenged on ^note Rivers, Vaughan ^note, Grey:
But then I sigh ^note; and, with a piece of Scripture,
Tell them that God bids us do ^note good for evil:
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ^note ends stolen out ^note of holy writ;
And seem a saint ^note, when most I play the devil.

Enter ^note two Murderers.
But, soft! here come ^note my executioners.
How now, my hardy ^note stout resolved ^note mates!
Are you now ^note going to dispatch this deed ^note?

First Murd. ^note
We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant,
That we may be admitted where he is.

Glou.
Well ^note thought upon; I have it here about me. [Gives the warrant. ^note
When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.
But, sirs, be sudden in the execution,
Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead;
For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps
May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.

First Murd. ^note
Tush!
Fear not, ^note my lord, we will not stand to prate;
Talkers are no good doers: be assured ^note
We come ^note to use our hands and not our tongues.

Glou.
Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears ^note.
I like you, lads: about your business straight.
Go, go, dispatch.

First Murd. ^note
We will, my noble lord. ^note [Exeunt.

^note

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