SCENE II. London. The palace  Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY    KING EDWARD. Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans' field     This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,     His land then seiz'd on by the conqueror.     Her suit is now to repossess those lands;     Which we in justice cannot well deny,     Because in quarrel of the house of York     The worthy gentleman did lose his life.   GLOUCESTER. Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit;     It were dishonour to deny it her.   KING EDWARD. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so?     I see the lady hath a thing to grant,     Before the King will grant her humble suit.   CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game; how true he     keeps the wind!   GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Silence!   KING EDWARD. Widow, we will consider of your suit;     And come some other time to know our mind.   LADY GREY. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay.     May it please your Highness to resolve me now;     And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Ay, widow? Then I'll warrant you all your       lands,     An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.     Fight closer or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.   CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she chance     to fall.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that, for he'll take     vantages.   KING EDWARD. How many children hast thou, widow, tell me.   CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a child of     her.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, then whip me; he'll rather     give her two.   LADY GREY. Three, my most gracious lord.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside] You shall have four if you'll be rul'd by him.   KING EDWARD. 'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands.   LADY GREY. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it, then.   KING EDWARD. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.   GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Ay, good leave have you; for you will have       leave     Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.                               [GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE withdraw]   KING EDWARD. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?   LADY GREY. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.   KING EDWARD. And would you not do much to do them good?   LADY GREY. To do them good I would sustain some harm.   KING EDWARD. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.   LADY GREY. Therefore I came unto your Majesty.   KING EDWARD. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.   LADY GREY. So shall you bind me to your Highness' service.   KING EDWARD. What service wilt thou do me if I give them?   LADY GREY. What you command that rests in me to do.   KING EDWARD. But you will take exceptions to my boon.   LADY GREY. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.   KING EDWARD. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.   LADY GREY. Why, then I will do what your Grace commands.   GLOUCESTER. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.   CLARENCE. As red as fire! Nay, then her wax must melt.   LADY GREY. Why stops my lord? Shall I not hear my task?   KING EDWARD. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.   LADY GREY. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.   KING EDWARD. Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.   LADY GREY. I take my leave with many thousand thanks.   GLOUCESTER. The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.   KING EDWARD. But stay thee- 'tis the fruits of love I mean.   LADY GREY. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.   KING EDWARD. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.     What love, thinkst thou, I sue so much to get?   LADY GREY. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;     That love which virtue begs and virtue grants.   KING EDWARD. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.   LADY GREY. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.   KING EDWARD. But now you partly may perceive my mind.   LADY GREY. My mind will never grant what I perceive     Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright.   KING EDWARD. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.   LADY GREY. To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.   KING EDWARD. Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.   LADY GREY. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower;     For by that loss I will not purchase them.   KING EDWARD. Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.   LADY 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 dismiss me, either with ay or no.   KING EDWARD. Ay, if thou wilt say ay to my request;     No, if thou dost say no to my demand.   LADY GREY. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.   GLOUCESTER. The widow likes him not; she knits her brows.   CLARENCE. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.   KING EDWARD. [Aside] Her looks doth argue her replete with modesty;     Her words doth 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?   LADY GREY. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord.     I am a subject fit to jest withal,     But far unfit to be a sovereign.   KING EDWARD. 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.   LADY 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.   KING EDWARD. You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.   LADY GREY. 'Twill grieve your Grace my sons should call you father.   KING EDWARD.No more than when my 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.   GLOUCESTER. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.   CLARENCE. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shrift.   KING EDWARD. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.   GLOUCESTER. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.   KING EDWARD. You'd think it strange if I should marry her.   CLARENCE. To who, my lord?   KING EDWARD. Why, Clarence, to myself.   GLOUCESTER. That would be ten days' wonder at the least.   CLARENCE. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.   GLOUCESTER. By so much is the wonder in extremes.   KING EDWARD. Well, jest on, brothers; I can tell you both     Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.                         Enter a NOBLEMAN    NOBLEMAN. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken     And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.   KING EDWARD. See that he be convey'd unto the Tower.     And go we, brothers, to the man that took him     To question of his apprehension.     Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably.                                        Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER   GLOUCESTER. Ay, Edward will use women honourably.     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 keeps 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,     And 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 harbour 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 t' account this world but hell,     Until my misshap'd trunk that bear 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 whiles I smile,     And cry 'Content!' to that which grieves my heart,     And wet my cheeks 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 colours to the chameleon,     Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,     And set the murderous Machiavel to school.     Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?     Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.           Exit     SCENE III. France.  The KING'S palace  Flourish.  Enter LEWIS the French King, his sister BONA, his Admiral call'd BOURBON; PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN MARGARET, and the EARL of OXFORD.  LEWIS sits, and riseth up again    LEWIS. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,     Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state     And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.   QUEEN MARGARET. 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 dishonour laid me on the ground,     Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,     And to my humble seat conform myself.   LEWIS. Why, say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?   QUEEN MARGARET. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears     And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.   LEWIS. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,     And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him] Yield not thy neck     To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind     Still ride in triumph over all mischance.     Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;     It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.   QUEEN MARGARET. Those gracious words revive my drooping 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 man,     And forc'd 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.   LEWIS. Renowned Queen, with patience calm the storm,     While we bethink a means to break it off.   QUEEN MARGARET. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.   LEWIS. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.   QUEEN MARGARET. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.     And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!                          Enter WARWICK    LEWIS. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?   QUEEN MARGARET. Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.   LEWIS. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?                                       [He descends. She ariseth]   QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;     For this is he that moves both wind and tide.   WARWICK. 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.   QUEEN MARGARET. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.   WARWICK. [To BONA] And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf,     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 ent'ring at his heedful ears,     Hath plac'd thy beauty's image and thy virtue.   QUEEN MARGARET. King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak     Before you answer Warwick. His demand     Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,     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 marriage     Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;     For though usurpers sway the rule a while     Yet heav'ns are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.   WARWICK. Injurious Margaret!   PRINCE OF WALES. And why not Queen?   WARWICK. Because thy father Henry did usurp;     And thou no more art prince than she is queen.   OXFORD. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,     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.   WARWICK. 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.   OXFORD. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,     Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years,     And not betray thy treason with a blush?   WARWICK. Can Oxford that did ever fence the right     Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?     For shame! Leave Henry, and call Edward king.   OXFORD. 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.   WARWICK. And I the house of York.   LEWIS. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,     Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside     While I use further conference with Warwick.                                               [They stand aloof]   QUEEN MARGARET. Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not!   LEWIS. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,     Is Edward your true king? for I were loath     To link with him that were not lawful chosen.   WARWICK. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.   LEWIS. But is he gracious in the people's eye?   WARWICK. The more that Henry was unfortunate.   LEWIS. Then further: all dissembling set aside,     Tell me for truth the measure of his love     Unto our sister Bona.   WARWICK. 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.   LEWIS. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.   BONA. Your grant or your denial shall be mine.     [To WARWICK] Yet I confess that often ere this day,     When I have heard your king's desert recounted,     Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.   LEWIS. 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 wife to the English king.   PRINCE OF WALES. To Edward, but not to the English king.   QUEEN MARGARET. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device     By this alliance to make void my suit.     Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.   LEWIS. And still is friend to him and Margaret.     But if your title to the crown be weak,     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.   WARWICK. Henry now lives in Scotland at his case,     Where having nothing, nothing can he 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.   QUEEN MARGARET. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick,     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     Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;     For both of you are birds of self-same feather.                                     [POST blowing a horn within]   LEWIS. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.                         Enter the POST    POST. 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.                                    [They all read their letters]   OXFORD. I like it well that our fair Queen and mistress     Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.   PRINCE OF WALES. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled.     I hope all's for the best.   LEWIS. Warwick, what are thy news? And yours, fair Queen?   QUEEN MARGARET. Mine such as fill my heart with unhop'd joys.   WARWICK. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.   LEWIS. What, has your king married the Lady Grey?     And now, to soothe your forgery and his,     Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?     Is this th' alliance that he seeks with France?     Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?   QUEEN MARGARET. I told your Majesty as much before.     This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.   WARWICK. 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?     Did I let pass th' 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'd at the last with shame?     Shame on himself! for my desert is honour;     And to repair my honour 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.   QUEEN MARGARET. 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.   WARWICK. 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;     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 honour     Or than for strength and safety of our country.   BONA. Dear brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd     But by thy help to this distressed queen?   QUEEN MARGARET. Renowned Prince, how shall poor Henry live     Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?   BONA. My quarrel and this English queen's are one.   WARWICK. And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours.   LEWIS. And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.     Therefore, at last, I firmly am resolv'd     You shall have aid.   QUEEN MARGARET. Let me give humble thanks for all at once.   LEWIS. Then, England's messenger, return in post     And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,     That Lewis of France is sending over masquers     To revel it with him and his new bride.     Thou seest what's past; go fear thy king withal.   BONA. Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,     I'll wear the willow-garland for his sake.   QUEEN MARGARET. Tell him my mourning weeds are laid aside,     And I am ready to put armour on.   WARWICK. Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,     And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.     There's thy reward; be gone.                       Exit POST   LEWIS. 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?   WARWICK. 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.   QUEEN MARGARET. 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 OF WALES. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;     And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.                                   [He gives his hand to WARWICK]   LEWIS. 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   WARWICK. 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.                   Exit