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

L. Grey. Why then you mean not as I thought you did.

K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my mind.

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

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

K. Edw. Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.

L. Grey. Herein your highness wrongs both them and me.

But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
Accords not with the sadness of my suit;
Please you, disiniss 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.
Glo. The widow likes him not; she knits her
Clar. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.

K. Edw. [Aside.] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty;

Her words do show her wit incomparable;
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

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:
I know, I am too mean to be your queen;
And yet too good to be your concubine.

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, and thou hast some children;
And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor,
Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing
To be the father unto many sons.
Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.
Glo. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.
Clar. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for
K. Edw. Brothers, you muse what chat we two


have had.

Glo. The widow likes it not, for she looks sad. K.Edw.You'd think it strange if I should marry her.

Clar. To whom, my 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.
Glo. By so much is the wonder in extremes.
K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers, I can tell you

Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.
Enter a Nobleman.

Nob. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken,
And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
K. Edw. See that he be convey'd unto the

And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
To question of his apprehension.--
Widow, go you along; lords, use her honorable.
CLARENCE, and Lord.

Glo. Ay, Edward will use women honorably.
'Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring,
To cross me from the golden time I look for!

And yet, between my soul's desire and me,
(The lustful Edward's title buried,)
is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
And all the unlook'd-for issue of their bodies,
To take their rooms, ere I can place myself:
A cold premeditation for my purpose!
Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty;
Like one that stands upon a promontory,
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye;
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
Saying-he'll lade it dry to have his way:
So do I wish the crown, being so far off';
And so I chide the means that keep me from it;
And so I say I'll cut the causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities.-

My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard;
What other pleasure can the world afford?
I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
I'll deck my body in gay ornaments,
And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
O miserable thought! and more unlikely,
Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns!
Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb:
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp,
That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I then a man to be belov'd?

O, monstrous fault, to harbor such a thought!
Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,
But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
As are of better person than myself,

I'll make my heaven-to dream upon the crown;
And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell,
Until my mis-shap'd trunk, that bears this head,
Be round impaled' with a glorious crown.
And yet I know not how to get the crown,
For many lives stand between me and home:
And I,-like one lost in a thorny wood,
That rents the thorns, and is rent with the thorns;
Seeking a way, and straying from the way;
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out,-
Torment myself to catch the English crown:
And from that torment I will free myself,
Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.
Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile;
And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart,
And wet my checks with artificial tears,
And frame my face to all occasions.
I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add colors to the cameleon;
Change shapes, with Proteus, for advantages,
And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut! were it further off, I'd pluck it down. [Exit.
SCENE III.-France. A Room in the Palace.
Flourish. Enter LEWIS the French King, and LADY
BONA, attended; the King takes his state. Then

K. Lew. Fair queen of England, worthy Mar-

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

Q. Mar. No, mighty king of France; now Margaret

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

1 Encircled.

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

Q. Mar. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears,

And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in


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

Q. Mar. Those gracious words revive my droop-
ing thoughts,

And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis,-
That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
Is, of a king, become a banish'd inan,
And forced to live in Scotland a forlorn;
While proud ambitious Edward duke of York,
Usurps the regal title, and the seat

Of England's true-anointed lawful king.
This is the cause, that I, poor Margaret,-
With this my son, prince Edward, Henry's heir,-
Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid;
And, if thou fail us, all our hope is done:
Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
Our people and our peers are both misled,
Our treasure seiz'd, our soldiers put to flight,
And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.
K. Lew. Renowned queen, with patience calm
the storm,

While we bethink a means to break it off.

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

K. Lew. The more I stay, the more I'll succor thee.

Q. Mar. O, but impatience waiteth on true sor


And see, where comes the breeder of my sorrow.
Enter WARWICK, attended.

K. Lew. What's he, approacheth boldly to our

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


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

Q. Mar. If that go forward, Henry's hope is

War. And, gracious madam, [To BONA.] in our
king's behalf,

I am commanded, with your leave and favor,
Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart:
Where tame, late entering at his heedful ears,
Hath placed thy beauty's image, and thy virtue.
Q. Mar. King Lewis,-and Lady Bona,-hear
me speak,

Before you answer Warwick. His demand

Orf. Then Warwick disannuls great Jonn of

Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
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 dis


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

But for the rest,-You tell a pedigree

Of three-score and two years; a silly time
To make prescription for a kingdoni's worth.
Orf. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against
thy liege,

Whom thou obeyedst thirty-and-six years,
And not bewray thy treason with a blush?

War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
For shame, leave Henry, and call Edward king.
Orf. Call him my king, by whose injurious doom
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,
When nature brought him to the door of death?
No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.
War. And I the house of York.

K. Lew. Queen Margaret, prince Edward, and

Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside,
While I use further conference with Warwick.
Q. Mar. Heaven grant that Warwick's words
bewitch him not!

[Refiring with the PRINCE and Oxford. K. Lew. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy

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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;
Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun;
Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
Unless the lady Bona quit his pain.

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.

K. Lew. Then, Warwick, thus,-Our sister shall

be Edward's;

And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
Touching the jointure that your king must make.
Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd:-
Draw near, queen Margaret; and be a witness,
That Bona shall be wine to the English king.

Prince. To Edward, but not to the English king.
Q. Mar. Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device
By this alliance to make void my stat;
Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.
K. Lew. And still is friend to him and Margaret:

Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, But if your title to the crown be weak,-

But from deceit, bred by necessity;
For how can tyrants safely govern home,
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
To prove him tyrant, this reason may suffice,—
That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,
Yet here prince Edward stands, king Henry's son.
Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and mar-

Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonor:
For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,
Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrong.
War. Injurious Margaret.
And why not queen?
War. Because thy father Henry did usurp;
And thou no more art prince, than she is queen.

As may appear by Edward's good success,—
Then 'tis but reason that I be releas'd
From giving aid, which late I promised.
Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand,
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 to maintain you;
And better twere you troubled him than France.
Q. Mar. Peace, impudent and shameless War-

wick, peace;

Proud setter-up and puller-down of kings!
I will not hence, till with my talk and tears,
Both full of truth, I make king Lewis behold

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

Q. Mar. 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

And now, to soothe your forgery and his,
Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
Is this the alliance that he seeks with France?
Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?

Q. Mar. 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 dishonors 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?
Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece?
Did I impale him with the regal crown?
Did I put Henry from his native right;
And am I guerdon'd3 at the last with shame?
Shame on himself! for my desert is honor.
And to repair my honor lost for him,

I here renounce him, and return to Henry:
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.

Q. Mar. Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;

And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
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 succor him:
And as for Clarence,-as my letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him;
For matching more for wanton lust than honor,
Or than for strength and safety of our country.
Bona. Dear brother, how shall Bona be re-

But by thy help to this distressed queen?

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K. Lew

And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.
There's thy reward: begone.
[Exit Mess.
But, Warwick, thou,
And Oxford, with five thousand men,
Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle:
And, as occasion serves, this noble queen
And prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt;-
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 in holy wedlock bands.

Q. Mar. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion:

Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous,
Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick:
And, with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable,
That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.
Prince. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves

And here to pledge my vow, I give my hand.

[He gives his hand to WARWICK. K. Lew. Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,

And thou, lord Bourbon, our high admiral,
Shall waft them over with our royal fleet.-
I long, till Edward fall by war's mischance,
For mocking marriage with a dame of France.
[Exeunt all but WARWICK.
War. I came from Edward as ambassador,
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, but me?
Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
I was the chief that rais'd him to the crown,
And I'll be chief to bring him down again:
Not that I pity Henry's misery,

But seek revenge on Edward's mockery.


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K. Edw. Suppose they take offence without a


They are but Lewis and Warwick; I am Edward, Your king and Warwick's, and must have my will.

Glo. And you shall have your will, because our king:

Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.

K. Edw. Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?

Glo. Not I:

No; God forbid, that I should wish them sever'd Whom God hath join'd together: ay, and 'twere pity,

To sunder them that yoke so well together.

K. Edw. Setting your scorns, and your mislike,

Tell me some reason, why the lady Grey
Should not become my wife, and England's

And you too, Somerset, and Montague,
Speak freely what you think.

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Mess. My sovereign liege, no letters; and few

But such as I without your special pardon,
Dare not relate.

K. Edw. Go to, we pardon thee: therefore, in

Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess

What answer makes king Lewis unto our letters?
Mess. At my depart these were his very words:
Go tell false Edward, thy supposed king,—,
That Lewis of France is sending over maskers,
To revel it with him and his new bride.

K. Edw. Is Lewis so brave? belike, he thinks
me Henry.

Clar. Then this is my opinion,-that king Lewis But what said lady Bona to my marriage

Becomes your enemy, for mocking him
About the marriage of the lady Bona.

Glo. And Warwick, doing what you gave in

Is now dishonored by this new marriage.

K. Edw. What, if both Lewis and Warwick be appeas'd,

By such invention as I can devise?

Mont. Yet to have join'd with France in such alliance,

Would more have strengthen'd this our commonwealth

'Gainst foreign storms, than any home-bred marriage.

Hast. Why, knows not Montague, that of itself
England is sak, if true within itself?

Mont. Yes; but the safer, when 'tis back'd with

Hast. 'Tis better using France, than trusting

Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas,
Which he hath given for fence impregnable,
And with their helps only defend ourselves;
In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.

Clar. For this one speech, lord Hastings well

To have the heir of the lord Hungerford.

K. Edw. Ah, what of that? it was my will, and

And, for this once, my will shall stand for law.
Glo. And yet, methinks, your grace hath not
done well,

To give the heir and daughter of lord Scales
Unto the brother of your loving bride;
She better would have fitted me, or Clarence:
But in your bride you bury brotherhood.

Clar. Or else you would not have bestow'd the


Of the lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.
K. Edw. Alas, poor Clarence! is it for a wife,
That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
Clar. In choosing for yourself, you show'd your

Which being shallow, you shall give me leave
To play the broker in inine own behalf;
And, to that end, I shortly mind to leave you.
K. Edw. Leave me, or tarry, Edward will be

And not be tied unto his brother's will.

Q. Eliz. My lords, before it pleas'd his majesty
To raise my state to title of a queen,
Do me but right, and you must all confess
That I was not ignoble of descent,

And meaner than myself have had like fortune.
But as this title honors me and mine,

So your dislikes, to whom I would be pleasing,
Do clond my joys with danger and with sorrow.
K. Elw. My love, forbear to fawn upon their


What danger, or what sorrow can befall thee,
So long as Edward is thy constant friend,
And their true sovereign, whom they must obey?
Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
Unless they seek for hatred at my hands:
Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.

Mess. These were her words, utter'd with mild

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

K. Edw. I blame not her, she could say little


She had the wrong. But what said Henry's queen?
For I have heard that she was there in place.

Mess. Tell him, quoth she, my mourning weeds
are done,

And I am ready to put armor on.

K. Edw. Belike, she minds to play the Amazon. But what said Warwick to these injuries?

Mess. He, more incens'd against your majesty Than all the rest, discharged me with these words: Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong; And therefore, I'll uncrown him, ere't be long.

K. Edw. Ha! durst the traitor breathe out so

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Yet am I arm'd against the worst can happen;
And haste is needful in this desperate case.-
Pembroke, and Stafford, you in our behalf
Go levy men, and make prepare for war:
They are already, or quickly will be landed:
Myself in person will straight follow you.

But, ere I go, Hastings,-and Montague,—
Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
Are near to Warwick, by blood, and by alliance:
Tell me, if you love Warwick more than me?
If it be so, then both depart to him;

I rather wish you foes than hollow friends;
But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
That I may never have you in suspect.

Mont. So God help Montague, as he proves

Hast. And Hastings, as he favors Edward's cause!

K. Edw. Now, brother Richard, will you tand by us?

Glo. Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand

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SCENE II-A Plain in Warwickshire. Enter WARWICK and OXFORD, with French and

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other Forces.

War. Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well; The common people by numbers swarm to us. Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET.

But, see, where Somerset and Clarence come;-
Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends!
Clar. Fear not that, my lord.

War. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto War-

And welcome, Somerset :-I hold it cowardice,
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
Else might I think, that Clarence, Edward's brother,
Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings:
But welcome, Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
And now what rests, but, in night's coverture,
Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
And but attended by a simple guard,
We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
Our scouts have found the adventure very easy:
That as Ulysses, and stout Diomede,

With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds;
So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,"
At unawares may beat down Edward's guard,
And seize himself: I say not-slaughter him,
For I intend but only to surprise him.-
You, that will follow me to this attempt,
Applaud the name of Henry, with your leader.
[They all cry HENRY!
Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort:
For Warwick and his friends, God and saint George!

SCENE III-Edward's Camp near Warwick. Enter certain Watchmen, to guard the King's Tent. 1 Watch. Come on, my masters, each man take his stand;

The king, by this, is set him down to sleep. 2 Watch. What, will he not to bed?

1 Watch. Why, no: for he hath made a solemn vow Never to lie and take his natural rest,

Till Warwick, or himself, be quite suppress'd. 2 Watch. To-morrow then, belike, shall be the day, If Warwick be so near as men report.

3 Watch. But say, I pray, what nobleman is that, That with the king here resteth in his tent?

1 Watch. 'Tis the lord Hastings, the king's chiefest friend.

3 Watch. O, is it so? But why commands the king, That his chief followers lodge in towns about him, While he himself keepeth in the cold field?

2 Watch. 'Tis the more honor, because more dangerous.

3 Watch. Ay; but give me worship and quietness, I like it better than a dangerous honor. If Warwick knew in what estate he stands, "Tis to be doubted, he would waken him.

1 Watch. Unless our halberds did shut up his passage.

2 Watch. Ay; wherefore else guard we his royaltent, But to defend his person from night-foes? Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET, and Forces.

War. This is his tent; and see, where stand his guard.

Courage, my masters; honor now, or never!
But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
1 Watch. Who goes there?

2 Watch. Stay, or thou diest.
WARWICK, and the rest, cry all-Warwick!
Warwick! and set upon the guard; who fly,
crying-Arm! Arm! WARWICK, and the
rest, following them.

The Drum beating, and Trumpets sounding, reenter WARWICK, and the rest, bringing the KING out in a Gown, sitting in a Chair; GLOSTER and HASTINGS fly.

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War. Ay, but the case is alter'd: Then I'degraded you from being king, When you disgraced me in my embassade, Alas! how should you govern any kingdom, And come now to create you duke of York. That know not how to use ambassadors; Nor how to be contented with one wife; Nor how to use your brothers brotherly; Nor how to study for the people's welfare; Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?

K. Edw. Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too?

Nay, then I see, that Edward needs must down.-
Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
Of thee thyself, and all thy complices,
Edward will always bear himself as king:
Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
War. Then, for his mind, be Edward England's
[Takes off his crown.
But Henry now shall wear the English crown,
And be true king indeed; thou but the shadow.-
My lord of Somerset, at my request,

See that forthwith duke Edward be convey'd
Unto my brother, archbishop of York.
When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
I'll follow you, and tell what answer
Lewis, and the lady Bona, send to him:
Now, for a while, farewell, good duke of York.
K. Edw. What fates impose, that men must needs

It boots not to resist both wind and tide.

[Exit KING EDWARD, led out; SOMERSET with him.

Orf. What now remains, my lords, for us to do, But march to London with our soldiers?

War. Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do; To free king Henry from imprisonment, And see him seated in the regal throne. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RIVERS. Riv. Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?

Q. Eliz. Why, brother Rivers, are you yet to learn, What late misfortune is befall'n king Edward? Riv. What, loss of some pitch'd battle against


Q. Eliz. No, but the loss of his own royal person. Riv. Then, is my sovereign slain?

Q. Eliz. Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner, Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard, Or by his foe surpris'd at unawares: And, as I further have to understand, Is new committed to the bishop of York, Fell Warwick's brother, and by that our foe.

Riv. These news, I must confess, are full of grief: Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may; Warwick may lose, that now hath won the day. Q. Eliz. Till then, fair hope must hinder life's


And I the rather wean me from despair,
For love of Edward's offspring in my womb:
This is it that makes me bridle passion,
And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross;
Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear,
And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs,
Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown
King Edward's fruit, true heir to the English crown.
Riv. But, madam, where is Warwick then become?
Q. Eliz. I am informed, that he comes towards

To set the crown once more on Henry's head: Guess thou the rest; king Edward's friends must down.

But to prevent the tyrant's violence,
(For trust not him that hath once broken faith,)
I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary,
To save at least the heir of Edward's right;
There shall I rest secure from force, and fraud.
Come therefore, let us fly, while we may fly;
If Warwick take us, we are sure to die." [Exeunt.
SCENE V.-A Park near Middleham Castle in


and others.

Glo. Now, my lord Hastings, and sir William Stanley,

i. e. In his mind; as far as his own mind goes.

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