Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen.
[♦] Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester’s tomb?
[♦] Why, then, dame Eleanor was ne’er thy joy.
[80] Erect his statua and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I for this nigh wreck’d upon the sea
[♦] And twice by awkward wind from England’s bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
[85] What boded this, but well forewarning wind
Did seem to say ‘Seek not a scorpion’s nest,