Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 221

by William Shakespeare


  Enter King Edward IV, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady Grey

  King Edward IV

  Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban’s field

  This lady’s husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,

  His lands then seized 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 IV

  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 IV

  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 to Clarence] 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 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, bein
g 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

  SCENE III. FRANCE. KING LEWIS 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?

  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 a 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 entering at his heedful ears,

  Hath placed 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 awhile,

  Yet heavens 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 are prince than she is queen.

 

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