And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!
305 Suf. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
[♦] Queen. Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch!
[♦] Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?
Suf. A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them?
310 Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan,
[♦] I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
Deliver’d strongly through my fixed teeth,