&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;And would you not do much, to do them good?

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;To do them good, I would sustain some harm.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;Therefore I came unto your majesty.

K. Edw.
I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;So shall you bind me to your highness' service.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;What you command, that rests in me to do.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;But you will take exceptions to my boon.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;Why, then I will do what your grace commands.

&mast;Glo.
&mast;He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble^{8 note}

&mast;Clar.
&mast;As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt. [Aside.

L. Grey.
Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my task?

K. Edw.
An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.

L. Grey.
That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.

K. Edw.
Why then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.

L. Grey.
I take my leave with many thousand thanks.

Glo.
The match is made; she seals it with a curt'sy.

&mlquo;K. Edw.
&mlquo;But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?

&mlquo;L. Grey.
&mlquo;My love till death^{9 note}

, my humble thanks, my prayers;
&mlquo;That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants.

K. Edw.
No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.

&mast;K. Edw.
&mast;But now you partly may perceive my mind.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;My mind will never grant what I perceive
&mast;Your highness aims at, if I aim aright.

K. Edw.
To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.

&mast;L. Grey.
&mast;To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.

K. Edw.
Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.

L. Grey.
Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower;
For by that loss I will not purchase them.

&mlquo;K. Edw.
&mlquo;Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.

L. Grey.
Herein your highness wrongs both them and me.
But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
&mlquo;Accords not with the sadness^{1 note}
of my suit;
Please you dismiss me, either with ay, or no.

K. Edw.
Ay; if thou wilt say ay, to my request:
No; if thou dost say no, to my demand.

L. Grey.
Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.

&mlquo;Glo.
&mlquo;The widow likes him not, she knits her brows. [Aside.

Clar.
He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom. [Aside.

&mlquo;K. Edw. [Aside.]
&mlquo;Her looks do argue her replete with modesty^{2 note}
;
&mast;Her words do show her wit incomparable;
&mast;All her perfections challenge sovereignty:
One way, or other, she is for a king;
And she shall be my love, or else my queen.—
Say, that king Edward take thee for his queen?

L. Grey.
'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord:
I am a subject fit to jest withal,
But far unfit to be a sovereign.

K. Edw.
Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee,
I speak no more than what my soul intends;
And that is, to enjoy thee for my love.

L. Grey.
And that is more than I will yield unto:
&mlquo;I know, I am too mean to be your queen;
And yet too good to be your concubine^{3 note}

K. Edw.
You cavil, widow; I did mean, my queen.

L. Grey.
'Twill grieve your grace, my sons should call you—father.

K. Edw.
No more, than when thy daughters call thee mother.
Thou art a widow^{4 note}

Glo.
The ghostly father now hath done his shrift. [Aside.

Clar.
When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift. [Aside.

K. Edw.
Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.

&mast;Glo.
&mast;The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad^{5 note}.

K. Edw.
You'd think it strange if I should marry her.

Clar.
To whom, my lord?

K. Edw.
Why, Clarence, to myself.

Glo.
That would be ten days' wonder, at the least.

Clar.
That's a day longer than a wonder lasts^{6 note}.

&mlquo;Glo.
&mlquo;By so much is the wonder in extremes.

K. Edw.
Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both,
Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. Enter a Nobleman.

Nob.
My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken,
&mlquo;And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.

K. Edw.
See, that he be convey'd unto the Tower:—
&mlquo;And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
&mlquo;To question of his apprehension.—
&mlquo;Widow, go you along;—Lords, use her honourable. [Exeunt King Edward, Lady Grey, Clarence, and Lord.

Glo.
Ay, Edward will use women honourably.
'Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
&mlquo;That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring,
&mlquo;To cross me from the golden time I look for!
&mlquo;And yet, between my soul's desire, and me,
&mast;(The lustful Edward's title buried,)
&mlquo;Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
&mlquo;And all the unlook'd-for issue of their bodies,
&mlquo;To take their rooms, ere I can place myself:
A cold premeditation for my purpose!
&mast;Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty;
&mast;Like one that stands upon a promontory,
&mast;And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
&mast;Wishing his foot were equal with his eye;
&mast;And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
&mast;Saying—he'll lade it dry to have his way:
&mast;So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
&mast;And so I chide the means that keep me from it;

&mast;And so I say—I'll cut the causes off,
&mast;Flattering me with impossibilities.—
&mast;My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
&mast;Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
&mast;Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard:
&mast;What other pleasure can the world afford?
&mlquo;I'll make my heaven^{7 note}

in a lady's lap,
&mlquo;And deck my body in gay ornaments,
And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
&mlquo;O miserable thought! and more unlikely,
&mlquo;That to accomplish twenty golden crowns!
Why, love foreswore me in my mother's womb^{8 note}:
&mlquo;And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
&mlquo;She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
&mlquo;To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub^{9 note};
&mlquo;To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
&mlquo;To shape my legs of an unequal size;
&mast;To disproportion me in every part,
&mast;Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp^{1 note},
&mast;That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I then a man to be belov'd?
&mlquo;O, monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
&mast;Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,

&mast;But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
&mast;As are of better person than myself^{2 note}
,
&mast;I'll make my heaven—to dream upon the crown;
&mast;And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell,
&mast;Until my mis-shap'd trunk that bears this head,
&mast;Be round impaled with a glorious crown^{3 note}

&mlquo;And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart;
&mast;And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
&mast;And frame my face to all occasions.
&mast;I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
&mast;I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
&mast;I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
&mast;Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
&mast;And, like a Sinon, take another Troy:
I can add colours to the cameleon;
&mlquo;Change shapes, with Proteus, for advantages,
&mlquo;And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school^{4 note}

SCENE III. France. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, and Lady Bona, attended; the King takes his State. Then enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward her Son, and the Earl of Oxford.

&mlquo;K. Lew.
&mlquo;Fair queen of England^{5 note}





, worthy Margaret, [Rising.
&mlquo;Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state,
&mlquo;And birth, that thou should'st stand, while Lewis doth sit.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;No, mighty king of France^{6 note}


; now Margaret
&mast;Must strike her sail, and learn a while to serve,
&mast;Where kings command. I was, I must confess,
&mast;Great Albion's queen in former golden days:
&mast;But now mischance hath trod my title down,
&mast;And with dishonour laid me on the ground;
&mast;Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,
&mast;And to my humble seat conform myself.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair?

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears,
&mast;And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
&mast;And sit thee by our side: yield not thy neck [Seats her by him.
&mast;To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
&mast;Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
&mast;Be plain, queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
&mast;It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts,
&mast;And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
&mast;Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis,—
&mast;That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
&mast;Is, of a king, become a banish'd man,
&mast;And forc'd to live in Scotland a forlorn;
&mast;While proud ambitious Edward, duke of York,
&mast;Usurps the regal title, and the seat
&mast;Of England's true-anointed lawful king.
&mast;This is the cause, that I, poor Margaret,—
&mast;With this my son, prince Edward, Henry's heir,—
&mast;Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid;
&mlquo;And, if thou fail us, all our hope is done:
&mast;Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
&mast;Our people and our peers are both misled,
&mast;Our treasure seiz'd, our soldiers put to flight,
&mast;And, as thou see'st, ourselves in heavy plight.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm,
&mast;While we bethink a means to break it off.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow:
&mast;And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow. Enter Warwick^{7 note}

&mlquo;K. Lew.
&mlquo;What's he, approacheth boldly to our presence?

Q. Mar.
Our earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.

K. Lew.
Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France? [Descending from his state. Queen Margaret rises.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;
&mast;For this is he that moves both wind and tide.

&mlquo;War.
&mlquo;From worthy Edward, king of Albion,
My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
I come,—in kindness, and unfeigned love,—
First, to do greetings to thy royal person;
And, then, to crave a league of amity;
And, lastly, to confirm that amity
With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
That virtuous lady Bona, thy fair sister,
To England's king in lawful marriage.

&mlquo;Q. Mar.
&mlquo;If that go forward, Henry's hope is done^{8 note}

War.
And, gracious madam, [To Bona.] in our king's behalf,
&mlquo;I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart;
Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears,
Hath plac'd thy beauty's image, and thy virtue^{9 note}
.

Q. Mar.
King Lewis,—and lady Bona,—hear me speak,
&mlquo;Before you answer Warwick. His demand^{1 note}



&mast;Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
&mast;But from deceit, bred by necessity;
&mast;For how can tyrants safely govern home,
&mast;Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
&mast;To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,—
&mast;That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,
&mast;Yet here prince Edward stands, king Henry's son.
&mast;Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
&mast;Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour:
&mast;For though usurpers sway the rule a while,
&mast;Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

War.
Injurious Margaret!

Prince.
And why not queen?

War.
Because thy father Henry did usurp;
And thou no more art prince, than she is queen.

Oxf.
Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the fourth,
&mlquo;Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest^{2 note};
And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
Who by his prowess conquered all France:
From these our Henry lineally descends.

War.
Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse,
You told not, how Henry the sixth hath lost

All that which Henry the fifth had gotten?
Methinks, these peers of France should smile at that.
But for the rest,—You tell a pedigree
Of threescore and two years; a silly time
To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.

&mlquo;Oxf.
&mlquo;Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
&mlquo;Whom thou obeyedst thirty and six years^{3 note}

War.
Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
For shame, leave Henry, and call Edward king.

&mlquo;Oxf.
&mlquo;Call him my king, by whose injurious doom
&mlquo;My elder brother, the lord Aubrey Vere,
Was done to death? and more than so, my father,
Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
&mlquo;When nature brought him to the door of death^{4 note}

War.
And I the house of York.

K. Lew.
Queen Margaret, prince Edward, and Oxford,
&mlquo;Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside,
&mlquo;While I use further conference with Warwick.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Heaven grant, that Warwick's words bewitch him not! [Retiring with the Prince and Oxford

&mlquo;K. Lew.
&mlquo;Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
&mlquo;Is Edward your true king? for I were loath,
&mlquo;To link with him that were not lawful chosen^{5 note}

War.
Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.

K. Lew.
But is he gracious in the people's eye?

War.
The more, that Henry was unfortunate^{6 note}.

K. Lew.
Then further,—all dissembling set aside,
&mlquo;Tell me for truth the measure of his love
&mlquo;Unto our sister Bona.

War.
Such it seems,
As may beseem a monarch like himself.
Myself have often heard him say, and swear,—

That this his love was an eternal plant^{7 note}

K. Lew.
Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

Bona.
Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine:—
Yet I confess, [To War.] that often ere this day,
When I have heard your king's desert recounted,
Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;Then, Warwick, thus,—Our sister shall be Edward's;
&mast;And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
&mast;Touching the jointure that your king must make,
&mast;Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd:—
Draw near, queen Margaret; and be a witness,

That Bona shall be wife to the English king.

Prince.
To Edward, but not to the English king.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device
&mast;By this alliance to make void my suit;
&mast;Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;And still is friend to him and Margaret:
&mast;But if your title to the crown be weak,—
&mast;As may appear by Edward's good success,—
&mast;Then 'tis but reason, that I be releas'd
&mast;From giving aid, which late I promised.
&mast;Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand,
&mast;That your estate requires, and mine can yield.

War.
Henry now lives in Scotland, at his ease;
Where having nothing, nothing he can lose.
And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,—
You have a father able^{9 note} to maintain you;
And better 'twere you troubled him than France.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace^{1 note};
&mast;Proud setter-up and puller-down of kings^{2 note}

&mast;For both of you are birds of self-same feather. [A horn sounded within.

K. Lew.
Warwick, this is some post to us, or thee. Enter a Messenger.

Mess.
My lord ambassador, these letters are for you;
Sent from your brother, marquis Montague.
These from our king unto your majesty.—
And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not. [To Margaret. They all read their letters.

Oxf.
I like it well, that our fair queen and mistress
Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.

Prince.
Nay, mark, how Lewis stamps as he were nettled:
&mast;I hope all's for the best.

K. Lew.
Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?

&mlquo;Q. Mar.
&mlquo;Mine, such as fill my heart with unhop'd joys.

War.
Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.

K. Lew.
What! has your king married the lady Grey?
&mlquo;And now, to sooth your forgery and his^{4 note},
&mlquo;Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
&mlquo;Is this the alliance that he seeks with France?
&mlquo;Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;I told your majesty as much before:
This proveth Edward's love, and Warwick's honesty.

War.
King Lewis, I here protest,—in sight of heaven,
And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,—
That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's;
No more my king, for he dishonours me;
But most himself, if he could see his shame.—
Did I forget, that by the house of York
My father came untimely to his death^{5 note}
?
Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece^{6 note}?
Did I impale him with the regal crown?
Did I put Henry from his native right^{7 note}

;
&mlquo;And am I guerdon'd^{8 note}
at the last with shame?
&mast;Shame on himself! for my desert is honour.
&mast;And, to repair my honour lost for him,
&mast;I here renounce him, and return to Henry:

&mlquo;My noble queen, let former grudges pass,
And henceforth I am thy true servitor;
I will revenge his wrong to lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former state.

&mlquo;Q. Mar.
&mlquo;Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;
&mlquo;And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
&mlquo;And joy that thou becom'st king Henry's friend.

War.
So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
That, if king Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
I'll undertake to land them on our coast,
And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
'Tis not his new-made bride shall succour him:
&mast;And as for Clarence,—as my letters tell me,
&mast;He's very likely now to fall from him;
&mast;For matching more for wanton lust than honour,
&mast;Or than for strength and safety of our country.

&mast;Bona.
&mast;Dear brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd,
&mast;But by thy help to this distressed queen?

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Renowned prince, how shall poor Henry live,
&mast;Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?

&mast;Bona.
&mast;My quarrel, and this English's queen's, are one.

&mast;War.
&mast;And mine, fair lady Bona, joins with yours.

&mast;K. Lew.
&mast;And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
Therefore, at last I firmly am resolv'd,
You shall have aid.

&mast;Q. Mar.
&mast;Let me give humble thanks for all at once.

K. Lew.
Then England's messenger, return in post;
And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,—

That Lewis of France is sending over maskers,
To revel it with him and his new bride:
&mast;Thou seest what's past, go fear thy king^{9 note}

Bona.
Tell him, In hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.

Q. Mar.
Tell him, My mourning weeds are laid aside,
And I am ready to put armour on^{1 note}.

War.
Tell him from me, That he hath done me wrong;
And therefore I'll uncrown him, ere't be long.
There's thy reward^{2 note}; be gone. [Exit Mess.

K. Lew.
But, Warwick, thou,
And Oxford, with five thousand men,
Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle^{3 note}

:
&mast;And, as occasion serves, this noble queen
&mast;And prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
&mlquo;Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt;—
&mlquo;What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?

War.
This shall assure my constant loyalty:—
That if our queen and this young prince agree,
I'll join mine eldest daughter, and my joy,

To him forthwith^{4 note}

&mlquo;Q. Mar.
&mlquo;Yes, I agree^{5 note}


, and thank you for your motion:—

&mlquo;Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous,
&mlquo;Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick;
&mlquo;And, with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable,
&mlquo;That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.

&mast;Prince.
&mast;Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;
&mast;And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand. [He gives his hand to Warwick.

&mlquo;K. Lew.
&mlquo;Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,
&mlquo;And thou, lord Bourbon^{6 note}



, our high admiral,
&mlquo;Shall waft them over with our royal fleet.—
&mlquo;I long, till Edward fall by war's mischance,
&mlquo;For mocking marriage with a dame of France. [Exeunt all but Warwick.

War.
I came from Edward as embassador,
But I return his sworn and mortal foe:
Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a stale^{7 note}

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