That thus have hous'd my spirit in his form,
(II, i)
To do a message to thee from the king.
The mighty King of England dotes on thee:
He hath power to take away thy life
Hath power to take thine honour; then consent
To pawn thine honour, rather than thy life:
Honour is often lost and got again;
life, once gone, hath no recovery.
The sun, that withers hay, doth nourish grass;
The king that would distain thee will advance thee.
The poets write that great Achilles' spear
Could heal the wound it made: the moral is,
What mighty men misdo, they can amend.
The lion doth become his bloody jaws
And grace his foragement," by being mild
When vassal fear lies trembling at his feet.
The king will in his glory hide thy shame;
And those that gaze on him to find out thee
Will lose their eyesight, looking in the sun.
What can one drop of poison harm the sea,
Whose hugy vastures can digest the ill
And make it lose his operation?
The king's great name will temper thy misdeeds,
And give the bitter potion of reproach
A sugar'd-sweet and most delicious taste:
Besides, it is no harm, to do the thing
Which without shame could not be left undone.
Thus have I, in his majesty's behalf,
Apparell'd sun in virtuous sentences,
And dwell upon thy answer in his suit.
count
.
Unnatural besiege! Woe me unhappy,
To have escap'd the danger of my foes
And to be ten times worse envir'd by friends!
Hath he no means to stain my honest blood,
But to corrupt the author of my blood
To be his scandalous and vile solicitor?
No marvel, though the branches be then infected,
When poison hath encompassed the root:
No marvel, though the leprous infant die,
When the stern dam envenometh the dug.
Why then, give sin a passport to offend,
And youth the dangerous rein of liberty:
Blot out the strict forbidding of the law;
And cancel every canon, that prescribes
A shame for shame or penance for offence.
(II, i)
No, let me die, if his too boist'rous will
Will have it so, before I will consent
To be an actor in his graceless lust.
war
.
Why, now thou speak'st as I would have thee speak:
And mark how I unsay my words again.
An honourable grave is more esteem'd,
Than the polluted closet of a king:
The greater man, the greater is the thing,
Be it good or bad, that he shall undertake:
An unreputed mote, flying in the sun,
Presents a greater substance than it is:
The freshest summer's day both soonest taint
The loathed carrion that it seems to kiss:
Deep are the blows made with a mighty axe:
That sin doth ten times aggravate itself,
That is committed in a holy place:
An evil deed, done by authority,
Is sin and subornation: deck an ape
In tissue, and the beauty of the robe
Adds but the greater scorn unto the beast.
A spacious field of reasons could I urge
Between his glory, daughter, and thy shame:
That poison shows worst in a golden cup;
Dark night seems darker by the lightning-flash;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds;
And every glory that inclines to sin,
The shame is treble by the opposite.
So leave I, with my blessing in thy bosom;
Which then convert to a most heavy curse,
When thou convert'st from honour's golden name
To the black faction of bed-blotting shame!
count
. I'll follow thee; and, when my mind turns so,
My body sink my soul in endless woe!
Exeunt
SCENE
II
The same. A room in the castle.
Enter at one door Derby from France: at another door Audley with a drum.
der
. Thrice-noble Audley, well encounter'd here:
How is it with our sovereign and his peers?
aud
. 'Tis full a fortnight since I saw his highness,
(II, ii) What time he sent me forth to muster men;
Which I accordingly have done, and bring them hither
In fair array before his majesty.
What news, my Lord of Derby, from the Emperor?
der
. As good as we desire: the Emperor
Hath yielded to his highness friendly aid;
And makes our king lieutenant-general
In all his lands and large dominions:
Then
via
for the spacious bounds of France!
aud
. What, doth his highness leap to hear these news?
der
. I have not yet found time to open them;
The king is in his closet, malcontent,
For what, I know not, but he gave in charge,
Till after dinner, none should interrupt him:
The Countess Salisbury, and her father Warwick,
Artois, and all, look underneath the brows.
aud
. Undoubtedly then something is amiss.
[Trumpet within]
der
. The trumpets sound; the king is now abroad.
Enter the King
aud
. Here comes his highness.
der
. Befall my sovereign all my sovereign's wish!
k. ed
. Ah, that thou wert a witch, to make it so!
der
. The emperor greeteth you:
k. ed.
Would it were the countess!
der
. And hath accorded to your highness' suit.
k. ed
. Thou liest, she hath not; but I would, she had!
aud
. All love and duty to my lord the king!
k. ed
. Well, all but one is none: - what news with you?
aud
. I have, my liege, levied those horse and foot,
According to your charge, and brought them hither.
k. ed
. Then let those foot trudge hence upon those horse,
According to our discharge, and be gone. -Derby,
I'll look upon the countess' mind anon.
der
. The countess' mind, my liege?
k. ed
. I mean the emperor: leave me alone.
aud
. What's in his mind?
der.
Let's leave him to his humour.
Exeunt
k. ed
. Thus from the heart's abundance speaks the tongue;
Countess for emperor: and, indeed, why not?
She is as imperator over me; And I to her
(II, ii) Am as a kneeling vassal that observes
The pleasure or displeasure of her eye. -
Enter Lodwick
What says the more than Cleopatra's match
To Caesar now?
lod.
That yet, my liege, ere night
She will resolve your majesty.
[Drum within]
k. ed
. What drum is this, that thunders forth this march,
To start the tender Cupid in my bosom?
Poor sheep-skin, how it brawls with him that beateth it!
Go, break the thund'ring parchment-bottom out,
And I will teach it to conduct sweet lines
Unto the bosom of a heavenly nymph:
For I will use it as my writing-paper;
And so reduce him, from a scolding drum,
To be the herald and dear counsel-bearer
Betwixt a goddess and a mighty king.
Go, bid the drummer learn to touch the lute,
Or hang him in the braces
of his
drum;
For now we think it an uncivil thing,
To trouble heaven with such harsh resounds:
Away. -
Exit Lodwick
The quarrel, that I have, requires no arms
But these of mine; and these shall meet my foe
In a deep march of penetrable groans;
My eyes shall be my arrows; and my sighs
Shall serve me as the vantage of the wind,
To whirl away my sweet'st artillery:
Ah but, alas, she wins the sun of me,
For that is she herself; and thence it comes
That poets term the wanton warrior blind;
But love hath eyes as judgment to his steps,
Till too-much-loved glory dazzles them. -
Enter LoduHck
How now?
lod
. My liege, the drum that struck the lusty march
Stands with Prince Edward, your thrice-valiant son.
[Exit]
Enter Prince Edward
k. ed
. I see the boy. Oh, how his mother's face,
Modell'd in his, corrects my stray'd desire
(II, ii) And rates my heart and chides my thievish eye;
Who being rich enough in seeing her,
Yet seeks elsewhere: and basest theft is that,
Which cannot cloak itself on poverty. -
Now, boy, what news?
pr. ed
. I have assembled, my dear lord and father,
The choicest buds of all our English blood
For our affairs in France; and here we come,
To take direction from your majesty.
k. ed
. Still do I see in him delineate
His mother's visage; those his eyes are hers,
Who looking wi
stly
on me make me blush;
For faults against themselves give evidence:
Lust is a fire, and men, like lanthorns, show
Light lust within themselves, even through themselves.
Away, loose silks of wavering vanity!
Shall the large limit of fair Brittany
By me be overthrown? and shall I not
Master this little mansion of myself?
Give me an armour of eternal steel;
I go to conquer kings; and shall I not then
Subdue myself and be my enemy's friend?
It must not be. - Come, boy, forward, advance!
Let's with our colours sweet the air of France.
Enter Lodwick
lod
. My liege, the countess with a smiling cheer
Desires access unto your majesty.
k. ed
. Why, there it goes! that very smile of hers
Hath ransom'd captive France, and set the king,
The Dauphin, and the peers, at liberty. -
Go, leave me, Ned, and revel with thy friends.
Exit Prince
Thy mother is but black; and thou, like her,
Dost put into my mind how foul she is.
-Go, fetch the countess hither in thy hand
And let her chase away those winter clouds;
For she gives beauty both to heaven and earth.