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A dire induction am I witness to,
Enter Queen ElizAD ETH and the Duchess of York.
Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes ! ah, my tender
Q. Mar. Hover about her ; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.
Duch. So many miseries have craz’d my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead ?
Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle
lambs, And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was done? Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet
son. Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal-living
Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life
usurp'd, . Brief abstract and record of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
[Sitting down. Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood ! Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a
[Sitting down by her.
(Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him ; I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him : Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him ; Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.
Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
That foul defacer of God's handy-work; .
Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes; God witness with me, I have wept for thine.
Q. Mar. Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge, And now I cloy me with beholding it. Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward ; Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward ; Young York he is but boot, because both they Match not the high perfection of my loss. Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb’d my Edward; And the beholders of this tragick play, The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer; Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls, And send them thither: But at hand, at hand, Ensues his piteous and unpitied end: Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly convey'd from hence :Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live to say, The dog is dead ! Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
Q. Mar. I call’d thee then, vain flourish of my
I call’d thee then, poor shadow, painted queen;
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while,
day; Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, And he, that slew them, fouler than he is : Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse ; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. Q. Eliz. My words are dull, 0, quicken them with
thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and
pierce like mine. [Erit Q. Margaret. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words ?
Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries ! Let them have scope: though what they do impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.
Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd: go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let's smother