And the beholders of this tragic play, Th' adulterate Haftings, Rivers, Vaughan, Gray, Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, faints pray, for vengeance Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live to fay, the dog is dead kon Queen. Oh! thou didst prophefy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curfe That bottl'd spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. Q. Mar. I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune, I call'd thee then poor fhadow, painted Queen, Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? 6 Th' ADULTERATE Haftings, I believe ShakeSpeare wrote. Th' ADULTERER Haftings, WARBURTON. 7 The flatt'ring index of direful PAGEANT.] Without doubt Shakespeare wrote -direful PAGE. WARBURTON. Y 3 For For happy wife, a moft diftreffed widow; Having no more but thought of what thou wert, Farewel, York's wife, and Queen of fad mischance, Q. Mar. Forbear to fleep the night, and fast the day, Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think, that thy babes were sweeter than they were, Queen. My words are dull, O! quicken them with thine. Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them fharp, and pierce like mine. [Exit Margaret. Dutch. Why should calamity be full of words? Queen. Windy attorneys to their client-woes, Airy fucceeders of inteftate joys, * Poor In former editions this line The emendation is Sir Thomas was read thus: Win fy-attorneys to your client's woes. Hanmer's. 8 Airy Succeeders of inteftine Poor breathing orators of miferies! Let them have fcope, tho' what they do impart Dutch. If fo, then be not tongue-ty'd; go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let's fmother I hear his drum, be copious in exclaims. Enter King Richard, and bis Train. K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition? From all the flaughters, -wretch, that thou haft done. crown, Where should be branded, if that right were right, And little Ned Plantagenet, his fon? Queen. Where is kind Haftings, Rivers, Vaughan, K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! ftrike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women this Reading. I have adopted i. e. Words, tun'd to Complaints, fucceed Joys that are dead; and unbequeath'd to them, to whom they should properly descend. Y 4 THEOBALD. Rail Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I fay. [Flourish. Alarums, Either be patient, and intreat me fair, Or with the clamorous report of war.. Thus will I drown your exclamations. Dutch. Art thou my fon? K, Rich. Ay, I thank God, my father, and your¬ felf. Dutch. Then patiently hear my impatience, K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your con dition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Dutch. Lwill be mild and gentle in my words. K. Rich. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste, Dutch. Art thou fo hafty? I have ftaid for thee, God knows, in anguifh, pain and agony. K. Rich. And came I not at laft to comfort you Dutch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'ft it well, Thou cam'ft on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burden was thy birth to me, Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, defp'rate, wild and furious; Thy prime of manhood, daring bold, and venturous Thy age confirm'd, proud, fubtile, fly and bloody, What comfortable hour canft thou name, That ever grac'd me in thy company? i K. Rich. Faith none but Humphry Houre, that call'd your Grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be fo difgracious in your fight, Let me march on, and not offend your Grace, -Strike up the drum.... Dutch. I pry'thee, hear me fpeak. A touch of your condition.] A pice or partitle of your temper pr difpofition. That ever grac'd me.] To grace feems here to mean the fame as to blifs, to make happy. So gracious is kind, and graces are favours, K. Rich, K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. Dutch. Hear me a word, For I fhall never speak to thee again. K. Rich. So ? Dutch. Either thou'lt die by God's just ordinance, Therefore take with thee my moft heavy Curfe; › Shame ferves thy life, and doth thy death attend. [Exit. Queen. Tho' far more caufe, yet much lefs fpirit to curfe Abides in me. I fay Amen to her. [Going K. Rich. Stay, Madam, I muft fpeak a word with you. Queen. I have no more Sons of the royal blood For thee to flaughter; for my daughters, Richard, They shall be praying Nuns, not weeping Queens; And therefore level not to hit their lives. K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. Queen, And muft fhe die for this? O let her live, And I'll corrupt her manners, ftain her beauty, Slander myself as falfe to Edward's bed, Throw over her the veil of infamy; Shame ferves thy lie.] To ferve is to accompany, fervants being near the perfons of their mafters. 3 Stay, Madam,] On this dialogue, 'tis not neceffary to beftow much criticism: part of it is ridiculous, and the whole improbable. So |