The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 431

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

Who is it that complains 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 look 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 abus'd With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

GREY. To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?

GLOUCESTER. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.

When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong, Or thee, or thee, or any of your faction?

A plague upon you all! His royal Grace- Whom G.o.d preserve better than you would wish!- Cannot be quiet searce a breathing while But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.

The King, on his own royal disposition And not provok'd by any suitor else- Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred That in your outward action shows itself Against my children, brothers, and myself- Makes him to send that he may learn the ground.

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'; G.o.d grant we never may have need of you!

GLOUCESTER. Meantime, G.o.d grants that I have need of you.

Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Myself disgrac'd, and the n.o.bility Held in contempt; while great promotions Are daily given to enn.o.ble those That scarce some two days since were worth a n.o.ble.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. By Him that rais'd 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 mean 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 desert.

What may she not? She may-ay, marry, may she- RIVERS. What, marry, may she?

GLOUCESTER. What, marry, may she? Marry with a king, A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too.

Iwis 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 Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd.

I had rather be a country servant-maid Than a great queen with this condition- To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at.

Enter old QUEEN MARGARET, behind

Small joy have I in being England's Queen.

QUEEN MARGARET. And less'ned be that small, G.o.d, I beseech Him!

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't in presence of the King.

I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tow'r.

'Tis time to speak-my pains are quite forgot.

QUEEN MARGARET. Out, devil! I do remember them to well: Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

GLOUCESTER. Ere you were queen, ay, 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 spent mine own.

QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, 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 Albans slain?

Let me put in your minds, if you forget, What you have been ere this, and what you are; Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

QUEEN MARGARET. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.

GLOUCESTER. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick, Ay, and forswore himself-which Jesu pardon!- QUEEN MARGARET. Which G.o.d revenge!

GLOUCESTER. To fight on Edward's party for the crown; And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up.

I would to G.o.d 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 h.e.l.l for shame and leave this 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 sovereign 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 thereof!

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

QUEEN MARGARET. As 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 am Queen, you bow like subjects, Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?

Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

GLOUCESTER. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my sight?

QUEEN MARGARET. But repet.i.tion 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 ow'st to me; And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance.

This sorrow that I have by right is yours; And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

GLOUCESTER. The curse my n.o.ble 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 gav'st the Duke a clout Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland- His curses then from bitterness of soul Denounc'd against thee are all fall'n upon thee; And G.o.d, not we, hath plagu'd thy b.l.o.o.d.y deed.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. So just is G.o.d 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 woeful banishment, Should 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!

Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murder, to make him a king!

Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, For Edward our son, that 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 mayest thou live to wail thy children's death, 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 length'ned 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 b.l.o.o.d.y daggers. G.o.d, I pray him, That none of you may live his 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 be-gnaw thy soul!

Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!

No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a h.e.l.l 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 h.e.l.l, Thou slander of thy heavy mother's 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 did think 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 breath'd 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.