[♦] Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen’d yoke;
[♦] From which even here I slip my weary neck,
And leave the burthen of it all on thee.
Farewell, York’s wife, and queen of sad mischance:
[115] These English woes will make me smile in France.
Q. Eliz. O thou well skill’d in curses, stay awhile,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies!
[♦] Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;
[♦] Compare dead happiness with living woe;
[120] Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,