Page 530 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Mailed up in shame, with papers on my back,
And followed with a rabble that rejoice
To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I start, the envious people laugh, [35]
And bid me be advisèd how I tread.
Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
Trowest thou, that e’er I’ll look upon the world
Or count them happy that enjoys the sun?
No: dark shall be my light and night my day; [40]
To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometime I’ll say I am Duke Humphrey’s wife,
And he a prince and ruler of the land:
Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was
As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, [45]
Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
To every idle rascal follower.
But be thou mild and blush not at my shame,
Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as sure it shortly will. [50]
For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
With her that hateth thee and hates us all,
And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst, they’ll tangle thee. [55]
But fear not thou until thy foot be snared,
Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

GLOUCEST ER

Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry:
I must offend before I be attainted:
And had I twenty times so many foes, [60]
And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any scathe
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach,
Why yet thy scandal were not wiped away, [65]
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell:
I pray thee sort thy heart to patience;
These few days’ wonder will be quickly worn.