_Suf._ Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!   [bcb038] _King._ What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to sing a raven’s note,   ·bcb040· Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers;   [bcb041] And thinks he that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breast, Can chase away the first-conceived sound? Hide not thy poison with such sugar’d words;   ·bcb045· Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say; Their touch affrights me as a serpent’s sting. Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight! Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.   ·bcb050· Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding: Yet do not go away: come, basilisk, And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight; For in the shade of death I shall find joy; In life but double death, now Gloucester’s dead.   ·bcb055· _Queen._ Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus? Although the duke was enemy to him, Yet he most Christian-like laments his death: And for myself, foe as he was to me, Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans   ·bcb060· Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life, I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,   [bcb063] And all to have the noble duke alive. What know I how the world may deem of me?   ·bcb065· For it is known we were but hollow friends: It may be judged I made the duke away; So shall my name with slander’s tongue be wounded, And princes’ courts be fill’d with my reproach.   [bcb069] This get I by his death: ay me, unhappy!   [bcb070] To be a queen, and crown’d with infamy! _King._ Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!