Page 2869 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 2869
God’s is the quarrel; for God’s substitute,
His deputy anointed in His sight,
Hath caus’d his death; the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift [40]
An angry arm against His minister.
DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER
Where then, alas, may I complain myself?
GAUNT
To God, the widow’s champion and defence.
DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER
Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold [45]
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
O, sit my husband’s wrongs on Hereford’s spear
That it may enter butcher Mowbray’s breast!
Or if misfortune miss the first career,
Be Mowbray’s sins so heavy in his bosom [50]
That they may break his foaming courser’s back
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt! Thy sometimes brother’s wife
With her companion, grief, must end her life. [55]
GAUNT
Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.
As much good stay with thee as go with me!
DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER
Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls,
Not with the empty hollowness, but weight.
I take my leave before I have begun; [60]
For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.
Lo, this is all. - Nay, yet depart not so.
Though this be all, do not so quickly go.
I shall remember more. Bid him - ah, what? - [65]
With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
