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GLOUCESTER:
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Ha!
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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I call thee not.
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GLOUCESTER:
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I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought
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That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply.
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O, let me make the period to my curse!
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GLOUCESTER:
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'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.'
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QUEEN ELIZABETH:
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Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
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Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
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Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
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Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
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The time will come when thou shalt wish for me
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To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad.
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HASTINGS:
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False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
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Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine.
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RIVERS:
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Were you well served, you would be taught your duty.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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To serve me well, you all should do me duty,
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Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:
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O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!
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DORSET:
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Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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Peace, master marquess, you are malapert:
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Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
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O, that your young nobility could judge
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What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable!
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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them;
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And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess.
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DORSET:
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It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Yea, and much more: but I was born so high,
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Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,
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And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
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Witness my son, now in the shade of death;
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Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
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Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
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Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest.
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O God, that seest it, do not suffer it!
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As it was won with blood, lost be it so!
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BUCKINGHAM:
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Have done! for shame, if not for charity.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
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Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
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And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.
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My charity is outrage, life my shame
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And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage.
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BUCKINGHAM:
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Have done, have done.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand,
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In sign of league and amity with thee:
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Now fair befal thee and thy noble house!
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Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
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Nor thou within the compass of my curse.
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BUCKINGHAM:
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Nor no one here; for curses never pass
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The lips of those that breathe them in the air.
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QUEEN MARGARET:
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