GLOSTER.
Margaret.

QUEEN MARGARET.
Richard!

GLOSTER.
Ha!

QUEEN MARGARET.
I call thee not.

GLOSTER.
I cry thee mercy then; for I did think
That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.

QUEEN MARGARET.
Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply.
O, let me make the period to my curse!

GLOSTER.
'Tis done by me, and ends in--Margaret.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Thus have you breath'd your curse against yourself.

QUEEN MARGARET.
Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?