Complete Plays, The (276 page)

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 IV

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, whip me then: he’ll rather give her two.

Lady Grey

Three, my most gracious lord.

Gloucester

[Aside to Clarence]
 
You shall have four, if you’ll be ruled by him.

King Edward IV

’Twere pity they should lose their father’s lands.

Lady Grey

Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.

King Edward IV

Lords, give us leave: I’ll try this widow’s wit.

Gloucester

[Aside to Clarence]
 
Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave,
Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.

Gloucester and Clarence retire

King Edward IV

Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

Lady Grey

Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.

King Edward IV

And would you not do much to do them good?

Lady Grey

To do them good, I would sustain some harm.

King Edward IV

Then get your husband’s lands, to do them good.

Lady Grey

Therefore I came unto your majesty.

King Edward IV

I’ll tell you how these lands are to be got.

Lady Grey

So shall you bind me to your highness’ service.

King Edward IV

What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?

Lady Grey

What you command, that rests in me to do.

King Edward IV

But you will take exceptions to my boon.

Lady Grey

No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.

King Edward IV

Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.

Lady Grey

Why, then I will do what your grace commands.

Gloucester

[Aside to Clarence]
 
He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.

Clarence

[Aside to Gloucester]
 
As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt.

Lady Grey

Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task?

King Edward IV

An easy task; ’tis but to love a king.

Lady Grey

That’s soon perform’d, because I am a subject.

King Edward IV

Why, then, thy husband’s lands I freely give thee.

Lady Grey

I take my leave with many thousand thanks.

Gloucester

[Aside to Clarence]
 
The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.

King Edward IV

But stay thee, ’tis the fruits of love I mean.

Lady Grey

The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

King Edward IV

Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
What love, think’st 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 IV

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

Lady Grey

Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.

King Edward IV

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 IV

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

Lady Grey

To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.

King Edward IV

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 IV

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 IV

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

[Aside to Clarence]
 
The widow likes him not, she knits her brows.

Clarence

[Aside to Gloucester]
 
He is the bluntest wooer in
Christendom.

King Edward IV

[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?

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 IV

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 IV

You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen.

Lady Grey

’Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father.

King Edward IV

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

[Aside to Clarence]
 
The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

Clarence

[Aside to Gloucester]
 
When he was made a shriver,
’twas for shift.

King Edward IV

Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.

Gloucester

The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.

King Edward IV

You’ll think it strange if I should marry her.

Clarence

To whom, my lord?

King Edward IV

 
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 IV

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 IV

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 beloved?
O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,
But to command, to cheque, 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-shaped 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 rends 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 Proteus 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

S
CENE
III. F
RANCE
. K
ING
L
EWIS
XI’
S
PALACE
.

Flourish. Enter King Lewis XI, his sister Bona, his Admiral, called Bourbon, Prince Edward, Queen Margaret, and Oxford. King Lewis XI sits, and riseth up again

King Lewis XI

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 awhile 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.

King Lewis XI

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.

King Lewis XI

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 eased, 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 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 treasures seized, our soldiers put to flight,
And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.

King Lewis XI

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.

King Lewis XI

The more I stay, the more I’ll succor thee.

Queen Margaret

O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!

Enter Warwick

King Lewis XI

What’s he approacheth boldly to our presence?

Queen Margaret

Our Earl of Warwick, Edward’s greatest friend.

King Lewis XI

Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?