BRAKENBURY.
No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
[Exit.]
Enter Stanley.
STANLEY.
Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.
[To Anne.] Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard’s royal queen.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Ah, cut my lace asunder
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
ANNE.
Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
DORSET.
Be of good cheer, mother. How fares your Grace?
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
O Dorset, speak not to me; get thee gone.
Death and destruction dog thee at thy heels;
Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house,
Lest thou increase the number of the dead,
And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse,
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted Queen.
STANLEY.
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
Be not ta’en tardy by unwise delay.
DUCHESS.
O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursed womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.