2473Duch.Yorke. Who meetes vs heere?

2474My Neece Plantagenet,

2475Led in the hand of her kind Aunt of Gloster?

2476Now, for my Life, shee's wandring to the Tower,

2477On pure hearts loue, to greet the tender Prince.

2478Daughter, well met.

2479Anne. God giue your Graces both, a happie

2480And a ioyfull time of day.

2481Qu. As much to you, good Sister: whither away?

2482Anne. No farther then the Tower, and as I guesse,

2483Vpon the like deuotion as your selues,

2484To gratulate the gentle Princes there.

2485Qu. Kind Sister thankes, wee'le enter all together:

2487And in good time, here the Lieutenant comes.

2488Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leaue,

2489How doth the Prince, and my young Sonne of Yorke?

2490Lieu. Right well, deare Madame: by your patience,

2491I may not suffer you to visit them,

2492The King hath strictly charg'd the contrary.

2493Qu. The King? who's that?

2494Lieu. I meane, the Lord Protector.

2495Qu. The Lord protect him from that Kingly Title.

2496Hath he set bounds betweene their loue, and me?

2497I am their Mother, who shall barre me from them?

2498Duch.Yorke. I am their Fathers Mother, I will see

2499them.

2500Anne. Their Aunt I am in law, in loue their Mother:

2501Then bring me to their sights, Ile beare thy blame,

2502And take thy Office from thee, on my perill.

2503Lieu. No, Madame, no; I may not leaue it so:

2504I am bound by Oath, and therefore pardon me.

2507Stanley. Let me but meet you Ladies one howre hence,

2508And Ile salute your Grace of Yorke as Mother,

2509And reuerend looker on of two faire Queenes.

2510Come Madame, you must straight to Westminster,

2511There to be crowned Richards Royall Queene.

2512Qu. Ah, cut my Lace asunder,

2513That my pent heart may haue some scope to beat,

2514Or else I swoone with this dead-killing newes.

2515Anne. Despightfull tidings, O vnpleasing newes.

2516Dors. Be of good cheare: Mother, how fares your

2517Grace?

2518Qu. O Dorset, speake not to me, get thee gone,

2519Death and Destruction dogges thee at thy heeles,

2520Thy Mothers Name is ominous to Children.

2521If thou wilt out-strip Death, goe crosse the Seas,

2522And liue with Richmond, from the reach of Hell.

2523Goe hye thee, hye thee from this slaughter-house,

2524Lest thou encrease the number of the dead,

2525And make me dye the thrall of Margarets Curse,

2526Nor Mother, Wife, nor Englands counted Queene.

2527Stanley. Full of wise care, is this your counsaile, Madame:

2528Take all the swift aduantage of the howres:

2529You shall haue Letters from me to my Sonne,

2530In your behalfe, to meet you on the way:

2531Be not ta'ne tardie by vnwise delay.

2532Duch.Yorke. O ill dispersing Winde of Miserie.

2533O my accursed Wombe, the Bed of Death:

2534A Cockatrice hast thou hatcht to the World,

2535Whose vnauoided Eye is murtherous.

2536Stanley. Come, Madame, come, I in all haste was sent.

2537Anne. And I with all vnwillingnesse will goe.

2538O would to God, that the inclusiue Verge

2539Of Golden Mettall, that must round my Brow,

2540Were red hot Steele, to seare me to the Braines,

2541Anoynted let me be with deadly Venome,

2542And dye ere men can say, God saue the Queene.

2543Qu. Goe, goe, poore soule, I enuie not thy glory,

2544To feed my humor, wish thy selfe no harme.

2545Anne. No: why? When he that is my Husband now,

2546Came to me, as I follow'd Henries Corse,

2547When scarce the blood was well washt from his hands,

2548Which issued from my other Angell Husband,

2549And that deare Saint, which then I weeping follow'd:

2550O, when I say I look'd on Richards Face,

2551This was my Wish: Be thou (quoth I) accurst,

2552For making me, so young, so old a Widow:

2553And when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy Bed;

2554And be thy Wife, if any be so mad,

2555More miserable, by the Life of thee,

2556Then thou hast made me, by my deare Lords death.

2557Loe, ere I can repeat this Curse againe,

2558Within so small a time, my Womans heart

2559Grossely grew captiue to his honey words,

2560And prou'd the subiect of mine owne Soules Curse,

2561Which hitherto hath held mine eyes from rest:

2562For neuer yet one howre in his Bed

2563Did I enioy the golden deaw of sleepe,

2564But with his timorous Dreames was still awak'd.

2565Besides, he hates me for my Father Warwicke,

2566And will (no doubt) shortly be rid of me.

2567Qu. Poore heart adieu, I pittie thy complaining.

2568Anne. No more, then with my soule I mourne for

2569yours.

2570Dors. Farewell, thou wofull welcommer of glory.

2571Anne. Adieu, poore soule, that tak'st thy leaue

2572of it.

2573Du.Y. Go thou to Richmond, & good fortune guide thee,

2574Go thou to Richard, and good Angels tend thee,

2575Go thou to Sanctuarie, and good thoughts possesse thee,

2576I to my Graue, where peace and rest lye with mee.

2577Eightie odde yeeres of sorrow haue I seene,

2578And each howres ioy wrackt with a weeke of teene.

2579Qu. Stay, yet looke backe with me vnto the Tower.

2580Pitty, you ancient Stones, those tender Babes,

2581Whom Enuie hath immur'd within your Walls,

2582Rough Cradle for such little prettie ones,

2583Rude ragged Nurse, old sullen Play-fellow,

2584For tender Princes: vse my Babies well;

2585So foolish Sorrowes bids your Stones farewell.