QUEEN MARGARET.
Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the days;
Compare dead happiness with living woe;
Think that thy babes were sweeter 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.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
My words are dull. O, quicken them with thine!
QUEEN MARGARET.
Thy woes will make them sharp and pierce like mine.
[Exit.]
DUCHESS.
Why should calamity be full of words?
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Windy attorneys to their clients’ 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.
DUCHESS.
If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me,
And in the breath of bitter words let’s smother
My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smothered.
[A trumpet sounds.]
The trumpet sounds. Be copious in exclaims.
Enter King Richard and his Train, including Catesby, marching.