When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.
15 But, soft! I think she comes; and I’ll prepare
[♦] My tear-stain’d eyes to see her miseries.
Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with SIR JOHN STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers.
Serv. So please your grace, we’ll take her from the sheriff.
Glou. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by.
Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
20 Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
See how the giddy multitude do point,
And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!