And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown,
To her I go, a jolly thriving wooer.

Enter CATESBY.

Cate. My lord,

K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly?

Cate. Bad news, my lord: Ely is fled to Richmond;

And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welsh

men,

Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more

near

Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.
Come, I have learned that fearful commenting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary:
Then fiery expedition be my wing,

Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!

Come, muster men: my counsel is my shield;
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Before the Palace.

Enter Queen Margaret.

Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
Here in these confines slily have I lurked,
To watch the waning of mine enemies.
A dire induction am I witness to,

And will to France; hoping the consequence

Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?

Enter Queen ELIZABETH and the Duchess of YORK. Q. Eliz. Ah, my young princes! ah, my tender babes!

My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
And be not fixed in doom perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings
And hear your mother's lamentation!

Q. Mar. [Aside] Hover about her; say, that right for right

Hath dimmed your infant morn to agéd night. Duch. So many miseries have crazed my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Q. Mar. [Aside] 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. [Aside] When holy Harry died, and

my sweet son.

Duch. Blind sight, dead life, poor mortal living

ghost,

Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life.

usurped,

Brief abstract and record of tedious days,

Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,

Unlawfully made drunk with innocents' blood! Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou wouldst as well afford a grave

As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!

Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but I?

[Sitting down by her. Q. Mar. [Coming forward] If ancient sorrow be most reverend,

Give mine the benefit of seniory,

And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
If sorrow can admit society,

[Sitting down with them.
Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :-
I had an Edward, till a Richard killed him;
I had a Harry, till a Richard killed him :

Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard killed him ; Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard killed him. Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;

I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard
killed him.

From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death:
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood;
That foul defacer of God's handiwork;
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
That reigns in gallód eyes of weeping souls,-
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.-
O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
How do I thank Thee, that this carnal cur
Preys on the issue of his mother's body,

And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan!

Duch. O Harry's wife, triúmph 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 stabbed 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 killed my
Edward;
And the beholders of this tragic play,

The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
Untimely smothered in their dusky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer,
Only reserved 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 conveyed away.
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,
That I may live to say, The dog is dead!

Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy the time,would

come

That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-backed toad!
Q. Mar. I called thee then, vain flourish of my
fortune,

I called thee then poor shadow, painted queen;
The presentation of but what I was,

The flattering index of a direful pageant;
One heaved a-high, to be hurled down below;
A mother only mocked with two sweet babes;
A dream of what thou wert; a breath, a bubble;
A sign of dignity, a garish flag

To be the aim of every dangerous shot;
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers f
Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy!
Who sues to thee, and cries, 'God save the queen' f
Where be the bending peers that flattered thee?
Where be the thronging troops that followed thee!
Decline all this, and see what now thou art:
For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For queen, a very caitiff crowned with care;
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
For one that scorned at me, now scorned of me;
For one being feared of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obeyed of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheeled about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?

Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened yoke,
From which even here I slip my weary neck,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance :

These English woes will make me smile in France. Q. Eliz. O thou well skilled in curses, stay

awhile,

And teach me how to curse mine enemies!

Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the

day;

Compare dead happiness with living woe;

Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,