Shakespeare's First Folio Part 430

Rich. Do then, but Ile not heare

Dut. I will be milde, and gentle in my words

Rich. And breefe (good Mother) for I am in hast

Dut. Art thou so hasty? I haue staid for thee (G.o.d knowes) in torment and in agony

Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you?

Dut. No by the holy Rood, thou know'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth, to make the earth my h.e.l.l.

A greeuous burthen was thy Birth to me, Tetchy and wayward was thy Infancie.

Thy School-daies frightfull, desp'rate, wilde, and furious, Thy prime of Manhood, daring, bold, and venturous: Thy Age confirm'd, proud, subtle, slye, and b.l.o.o.d.y, More milde, but yet more harmfull; Kinde in hatred: What comfortable houre canst thou name, That euer grac'd me with thy company?

Rich. Faith none, but Humfrey Hower, That call'd your Grace To Breakefast once, forth of my company.

If I be so disgracious in your eye, Let me march on, and not offend you Madam.

Strike vp the Drumme

Dut. I prythee heare me speake

Rich. You speake too bitterly

Dut. Heare me a word: For I shall neuer speake to thee againe

Rich. So

Dut. Either thou wilt dye, by G.o.ds iust ordinance Ere from this warre thou turne a Conqueror: Or I with greefe and extreame Age shall perish, And neuer more behold thy face againe.

Therefore take with thee my most greeuous Curse, Which in the day of Battell tyre thee more Then all the compleat Armour that thou wear'st.

My Prayers on the aduerse party fight, And there the little soules of Edwards Children, Whisper the Spirits of thine Enemies, And promise them Successe and Victory: b.l.o.o.d.y thou art, b.l.o.o.d.y will be thy end: Shame serues thy life, and doth thy death attend.

Enter.

Qu. Though far more cause, yet much lesse spirit to curse Abides in me, I say Amen to her

Rich. Stay Madam, I must talke a word with you

Qu. I haue no more sonnes of the Royall Blood For thee to slaughter. For my Daughters (Richard) They shall be praying Nunnes, not weeping Queenes: And therefore leuell not to hit their liues

Rich. You haue a daughter call'd Elizabeth, Vertuous and Faire, Royall and Gracious?

Qu. And must she dye for this? O let her liue, And Ile corrupt her Manners, staine her Beauty, Slander my Selfe, as false to Edwards bed: Throw ouer her the vaile of Infamy, So she may liue vnscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, I will confesse she was not Edwards daughter

Rich. Wrong not her Byrth, she is a Royall Princesse

Qu. To saue her life, Ile say she is not so

Rich. Her life is safest onely in her byrth

Qu. And onely in that safety, dyed her Brothers

Rich. Loe at their Birth, good starres were opposite

Qu. No, to their liues, ill friends were contrary

Rich. All vnauoyded is the doome of Destiny

Qu. True: when auoyded grace makes Destiny.

My Babes were destin'd to a fairer death, If grace had blest thee with a fairer life

Rich. You speake as if that I had slaine my Cosins?

Qu. Cosins indeed, and by their Vnckle couzend, Of Comfort, Kingdome, Kindred, Freedome, Life, Whose hand soeuer lanch'd their tender hearts, Thy head (all indirectly) gaue direction.

No doubt the murd'rous Knife was dull and blunt, Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, To reuell in the Intrailes of my Lambes.

But that still vse of greefe, makes wilde greefe tame, My tongue should to thy eares not name my Boyes, Till that my Nayles were anchor'd in thine eyes: And I in such a desp'rate Bay of death, Like a poore Barke, of sailes and tackling reft, Rush all to peeces on thy Rocky bosome

Rich. Madam, so thriue I in my enterprize And dangerous successe of b.l.o.o.d.y warres, As I intend more good to you and yours, Then euer you and yours by me were harm'd

Qu. What good is couer'd with the face of heauen, To be discouered, that can do me good

Rich. Th' aduancement of your children, gentle Lady Qu. Vp to some Scaffold, there to lose their heads

Rich. Vnto the dignity and height of Fortune, The high Imperiall Type of this earths glory

Qu. Flatter my sorrow with report of it: Tell me, what State, what Dignity, what Honor, Canst thou demise to any childe of mine

Rich. Euen all I haue; I, and my selfe and all, Will I withall indow a childe of thine: So in the Lethe of thy angry soule, Thou drowne the sad remembrance of those wrongs, Which thou supposest I haue done to thee

Qu. Be breefe, least that the processe of thy kindnesse Last longer telling then thy kindnesse date

Rich. Then know, That from my Soule, I loue thy Daughter

Qu. My daughters Mother thinkes it with her soule

Rich. What do you thinke?

Qu. That thou dost loue my daughter from thy soule So from thy Soules loue didst thou loue her Brothers, And from my hearts loue, I do thanke thee for it

Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning: I meane that with my Soule I loue thy daughter, And do intend to make her Queene of England

Qu. Well then, who dost y meane shallbe her King

Rich. Euen he that makes her Queene: Who else should bee?

Qu. What, thou?

Rich. Euen so: How thinke you of it?

Qu. How canst thou woo her?

Rich. That I would learne of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour

Qu. And wilt thou learne of me?

Rich. Madam, with all my heart

Qu. Send to her by the man that slew her Brothers.

A paire of bleeding hearts: thereon ingraue Edward and Yorke, then haply will she weepe: Therefore present to her, as sometime Margaret Did to thy Father, steept in Rutlands blood, A hand-kercheefe, which say to her did dreyne The purple sappe from her sweet Brothers body, And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withall.

If this inducement moue her not to loue, Send her a Letter of thy n.o.ble deeds: Tell her, thou mad'st away her Vnckle Clarence, Her Vnckle Riuers, I (and for her sake) Mad'st quicke conueyance with her good Aunt Anne

Rich. You mocke me Madam, this not the way To win your daughter