'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; 128
But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small:
'Tis virtue that doth make them most admir'd;
The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at:
'Tis government that makes them seem divine; 132
The want thereof makes thee abominable.
Thou art as opposite to every good
As the Antipodes are unto us,
Or as the south to the septentrion. 136
O tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!
How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? 140
Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible;
Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
Bidd'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish:
Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will; 144
For raging wind blows up incessant showers,
And when the rage allays, the rain begins.
These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies,
And every drop cries vengeance for his death, 148
'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false French-woman.
North. Beshrew me, but his passions moves me so
That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.
York. That face of his the hungry cannibals 152
Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood;
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,—
O! ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: 156
132 government: conduct
136 septentrion: north
137 Cf. n.
146 allays: abates
149 fell: vindictive
150 Beshrew: plague on
passions: wild griefs
155 Hyrcania; cf. n.
