The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  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 as prisoner to your palace gate.

  KING EDWARD

  See that he be conveyed unto the Tower—

  (To Richard and George)

  And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,

  To question of his apprehension.

  (To Lady Gray) Widow, go you along. ⌈To Richard and

  George⌉ Lords, use her honourably.

  Exeunt all but Richard

  RICHARD OF GLOUCEST’ER

  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 burièd—

  Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,

  And all the unlooked-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 withered 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 unlicked 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 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 misshaped 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 slyly 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

  3.3 ⌈Two⌉ chairs of state. Flourish. Enter King Louis of France, his sister the Lady Bona, Lord Bourbon his admiral, Prince Edward, Queen Margaret, and the Earl of Oxford. Louis goes up upon the state, sits, and riseth up again

  KING LOUIS

  Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,

  Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state

  And birth that thou shouldst stand while Louis

  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 state conform myself.

  KING LOUIS

  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 drowned in cares.

  KING LOUIS

  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 Louis

  That Henry, sole possessor of my love,

  Is of a king become a banished 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.

  An 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 seized, our soldiers put to flight,

  And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.

  KING LOUIS

  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 LOUIS

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

  QUEEN MARGARET

  O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.

  Enter the Earl of Warwick

  And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow.

  KING LOUIS

  What’s he approacheth boldly to our presence?

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Our Earl of Warwick, Edward’s greatest friend.

  KING LOUIS

  Welcome, brave Warwick. What brings
thee to France ?

  He descends. She ariseth

  QUEEN MARGARET (aside)

  Ay, now begins a second storm to rise,

  For this is he that moves both wind and tide.

  WARWICK (to King Louis)

  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 Lady 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 placed thy beauty’s image and thy virtue.

  QUEEN MARGARET

  King Louis 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, Louis, 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 EDWARD 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 obeyedest thirty and six years,

  And not bewray 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 mellowed 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.

  KING LOUIS

  Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,

  Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside

  While I use further conference with Warwick.

  Queen Margaret ⌈comes down from the state and⌉, with Prince Edward and Oxford, stands apart

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Heavens grant that Warwick’s words bewitch him not.

  KING LOUIS

  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.

  KING LOUIS

  But is he gracious in the people’s eye?

  WARWICK

  The more that Henry was unfortunate.

  KING LOUIS

  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 fixed in virtue’s ground,

  The leaves and fruit maintained with beauty’s sun,

  Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,

  Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

  KING LOUIS (to Lady Boa)

  Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

  LADY 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 judgement to desire.

  KING LOUIS (to Warwick)

  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 counterpoised.

  (To Queen Margaret) Draw near, Queen Margaret, and

  be a witness

  That Bona shall be wife to the English king.

  Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, ⌈and Oxford⌉ come forward

  PRINCE EDWARD

  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 Louis was Henry’s friend.

  KING LOUIS

  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 released

  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 (to Queen Margaret)

  Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,

  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, 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 Louis behold

  Thy sly conveyance and thy lord’s false love,

  Post blowing a horn within

  For both of you are birds of selfsame feather.

  KING LOUIS

  Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.

  Enter the Post

  POST (to Warwick)

  My lord ambassador, these letters are for you,

  Sent from your brother Marquis Montague;

  (To Louis) These from our King unto your majesty;

  (To Queen Margaret)

  And, madam, these for you, from whom I know not.

 
They all read their letters

  OXFORD (to Prince Edward)

  I like it well that our fair Queen and mistress

  Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.

  PRINCE EDWARD

  Nay, mark how Louis stamps as he were nettled.

  I hope all’s for the best.

  KING LOUIS

  Warwick, what are thy news ? And yours, fair Queen?

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys.

  WARWICK

  Mine, full of sorrow and heart’s discontent.

  KING LOUIS

  What! Has your king married the Lady Gray?

  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 Louis, 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 guerdoned 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.

  (To Queen Margaret) 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 turned 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 Louis 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.