Henry VI Part 3

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act III, Scene I
Enter Sinklo, and Humfrey, with Crosse-bowes in their hands.

Sink.
Vnder this thicke growne brake, wee'l shrowd our selues:
For through this Laund anon the Deere will come,
And in this couert will we make our Stand,
Culling the principall of all the Deere.

Hum.
Ile stay aboue the hill, so both may shoot.

Sink.
That cannot be, the noise of thy Crosse-bow
Will scarre the Heard, and so my shoot is lost:
Heere stand we both, and ayme we at the best:
And for the time shall not seeme tedious,
Ile tell thee what befell me on a day,
In this selfe-place, where now we meane to stand.

Sink.
Heere comes a man, let's stay till he be past:
Enter the King with a Prayer booke.

Hen.
From Scotland am I stolne euen of pure loue,
To greet mine owne Land with my wishfull sight:
No Harry, Harry, 'tis no Land of thine,
Thy place is fill'd, thy Scepter wrung from thee,
Thy Balme washt off, wherewith thou was Annointed:
No bending knee will call thee Casar now,
No humble suters prease to speake for right:
No, not a man comes for redresse of thee:
For how can I helpe them, and not my selfe?

Sink.
I, heere's a Deere, whose skin's a Keepers Fee:
This is the quondam King; Let's seize vpon him.

Hen.
Let me embrace the sower Aduersaries,
For Wise men say, it is the wisest course.

Hum.
Why linger we? Let vs lay hands vpon him.

Sink.
Forbeare a-while, wee'l heare a little more.

Hen.
My Queene and Son are gone to France for aid:
And (as I heare) the great Commanding Warwicke
I: thither gone, to craue the French Kings Sister
To wife for Edward. If this newes be true,
Poore Queene, and Sonne, your labour is but lost:
For Warwicke is a subtle Orator:
And Lewis a Prince soone wonne with mouing words:
By this account then, Margaret may winne him,
For she's a woman to be pittied much:
Her sighes will make a batt'ry in his brest,
Her teares will pierce into a Marble heart:
The Tyger will be milde, whiles she doth mourne;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,
To heare and see her plaints, her Brinish Teares.
I, but shee's come to begge, Warwicke to giue:
Shee on his left side, crauing ayde for Henrie;
He on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
Shee Weepes, and sayes, her Henry is depos'd:
He Smiles, and sayes, his Edward is instaul'd;
That she (poore Wretch) for greefe can speake no more:
Whiles Warwicke tels his Title, smooths the Wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
And in conclusion winnes the King from her,
With promise of his Sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support King Edwards place.
O Margaret, thus 'twill be, and thou (poore soule)
Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorne.

Hum.
Say, what art thou talk'st of Kings & Queens?

King.
More then I seeme, and lesse then I was born to:
A man at least, for lesse I should not be:
And men may talke of Kings, and why not I?

Hum.
I, but thou talk'st, as if thou wer't a King.

King.
Why so I am (in Minde) and that's enough.

Hum.
But if thou be a King, where is thy Crowne?

King.
My Crowne is in my heart, not on my head:
Not deck'd with Diamonds, and Indian stones:
Nor to be seene: my Crowne, is call'd Content,
A Crowne it is, that sildome Kings enioy.

Hum.
Well, if you be a King crown'd with Content,
Your Crowne Content, and you, must be contented
To go along with vs. For (as we thinke)
You are the king King Edward hath depos'd:
And we his subiects, sworne in all Allegeance,
Will apprehend you, as his Enemie.

King.
But did you neuer sweare, and breake an Oath.

Hum.
No, neuer such an Oath, nor will not now.

King.
Where did you dwell when I was K. of England?

Hum.
Heere in this Country, where we now remaine.

King.
I was annointed King at nine monthes old,
My Father, and my Grandfather were Kings:
And you were sworne true Subiects vnto me:
And tell me then, haue you not broke your Oathes?

Sin.
No, for we were Subiects, but while you wer king

King.
Why? Am I dead? Do I not breath a Man?
Ah simple men, you know not what you sweare:
Looke, as I blow this Feather from my Face,
And as the Ayre blowes it to me againe,
Obeying with my winde when I do blow,
And yeelding to another, when it blowes,
Commanded alwayes by the greater gust:
Such is the lightnesse of you, common men.
But do not breake your Oathes, for of that sinne,
My milde intreatie shall not make you guiltie.
Go where you will, the king shall be commanded,
And be you kings, command, and Ile obey.

Sinklo.
We are true Subiects to the king, / King Edward.

King.
So would you be againe to Henrie,
If he were seated as king Edward is.

Sinklo.
We charge you in Gods name & the Kings,
To go with vs vnto the Officers.

King.
In Gods name lead, your Kings name be obeyd,
And what God will, that let your King performe.
And what he will, I humbly yeeld vnto.
Exeunt
Original text
Act III, Scene II
Enter K. Edward, Gloster,
Clarence, Lady Gray.

King.
Brother of Gloster, at S. Albons field
This Ladyes Husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slaine,
His Land then seiz'd on by the Conqueror,
Her suit is now, to repossesse those Lands,
Which wee in Iustice cannot well deny,
Because in Quarrell of the House of Yorke,
The worthy Gentleman did lose his Life.

Rich.
Your Highnesse shall doe well to graunt her suit:
It were dishonor to deny it her.

King.
It were no lesse, but yet Ile make a pawse.

Rich.
Yea, is it so:
I see the Lady hath a thing to graunt,
Before the King will graunt her humble suit.

Clarence.

Hee knowes the Game, how true hee keepes the winde?

Rich.
Silence.

King.
Widow, we will consider of your suit,
And come some other time to know our minde.

Wid.
Right gracious Lord, I cannot brooke delay:
May it please your Highnesse to resolue me now,
And what your pleasure is, shall satisfie me.

Rich.

I Widow? then Ile warrant you all your Lands,
And if what pleases him, shall pleasure you:
Fight closer, or good faith you'le catch a Blow.

Clarence.

I feare her not, vnlesse she chance to fall.

Rich.

God forbid that, for hee'le take vantages.

King.
How many Children hast thou, Widow? tell me.

Clarence.
I thinke he meanes to begge a Child of her.

Rich.

Nay then whip me: hee'le rather giue her two.

Wid.
Three, my most gracious Lord.

Rich.
You shall haue foure, if you'le be rul'd by him.

King.
'Twere pittie they should lose their Fathers Lands.

Wid.
Be pittifull, dread Lord, and graunt it then.

King.
Lords giue vs leaue, Ile trye this Widowes wit.

Rich.
I, good leaue haue you, for you will haue leaue,
Till Youth take leaue, and leaue you to the Crutch.

King.
Now tell me, Madame, doe you loue your Children?

Wid.
I, full as dearely as I loue my selfe.

King.
And would you not doe much to doe them good?

Wid.
To doe them good, I would sustayne some harme.

King.
Then get your Husbands Lands, to doe them good.

Wid.
Therefore I came vnto your Maiestie.

King.
Ile tell you how these Lands are to be got.

Wid.
So shall you bind me to your Highnesse seruice.

King.
What seruice wilt thou doe me, if I giue them?

Wid.
What you command, that rests in me to doe.

King.
But you will take exceptions to my Boone.

Wid.
No, gracious Lord, except I cannot doe it.

King.
I, but thou canst doe what I meane to aske.

Wid.
Why then I will doe what your Grace commands.

Rich.

Hee plyes her hard, and much Raine weares the Marble.

Clar.
As red as fire? nay then, her Wax must melt.

Wid.
Why stoppes my Lord? shall I not heare my Taske?

King.
An easie Taske, 'tis but to loue a King.

Wid.
That's soone perform'd, because I am a Subiect.

King.
Why then, thy Husbands Lands I freely giue thee.

Wid.
I take my leaue with many thousand thankes.

Rich.

The Match is made, shee seales it with a Cursie.

King.
But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of loue I meane.

Wid.
The fruits of Loue, I meane, my louing Liege.

King.
I, but I feare me in another sence.
What Loue, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?

Wid.
My loue till death, my humble thanks, my prayers,
That loue which Vertue begges, and Vertue graunts.

King.
No, by my troth, I did not meane such loue.

Wid.
Why then you meane not, as I thought you did.

King.
But now you partly may perceiue my minde.

Wid.
My minde will neuer graunt what I perceiue
Your Highnesse aymes at, if I ayme aright.

King.
To tell thee plaine, I ayme to lye with thee.

Wid.
To tell you plaine, I had rather lye in Prison.

King.
Why then thou shalt not haue thy Husbands Lands.

Wid.
Why then mine Honestie shall be my Dower,
For by that losse, I will not purchase them.

King.
Therein thou wrong'st thy Children mightily.

Wid.
Herein your Highnesse wrongs both them & me:
But mightie Lord, this merry inclination
Accords not with the sadnesse of my suit:
Please you dismisse me, eyther with I, or no.

King.
I, if thou wilt say I to my request:
No, if thou do'st say No to my demand.

Wid.
Then No, my Lord: my suit is at an end.

Rich.

The Widow likes him not, shee knits her Browes.

Clarence.

Hee is the bluntest Wooer in Christendome.

King.
Her Looks doth argue her replete with Modesty,
Her Words doth shew her Wit incomparable,
All her perfections challenge Soueraigntie,
One way, or other, shee is for a King,
And shee shall be my Loue, or else my Queene.
Say, that King Edward take thee for his Queene?

Wid.
'Tis better said then done, my gracious Lord:
I am a subiect fit to ieast withall,
But farre vnfit to be a Soueraigne.

King.
Sweet Widow, by my State I sweare to thee,
I speake no more then what my Soule intends,
And that is, to enioy thee for my Loue.

Wid.
And that is more then I will yeeld vnto:
I know, I am too meane to be your Queene,
And yet too good to be your Concubine.

King.
You cauill, Widow, I did meane my Queene.

Wid.
'Twill grieue your Grace, my Sonnes should call you Father.

King.
No more, then when my Daughters / Call thee Mother.
Thou art a Widow, and thou hast some Children,
And by Gods Mother, I being but a Batchelor,
Haue other-some. Why, 'tis a happy thing,
To be the Father vnto many Sonnes:
Answer no more, for thou shalt be my Queene.

Rich.

The Ghostly Father now hath done his Shrift.

Clarence.

When hee was made a Shriuer, 'twas for shift.

King.
Brothers, you muse what Chat wee two haue had.

Rich.
The Widow likes it not, for shee lookes very sad.

King.
You'ld thinke it strange, if I should marrie her.

Clarence.
To who, my Lord?

King.
Why Clarence, to my selfe.

Rich.
That would be tenne dayes wonder at the least.

Clarence.
That's a day longer then a Wonder lasts.

Rich.
By so much is the Wonder in extremes.

King.
Well, ieast on Brothers: I can tell you both,
Her suit is graunted for her Husbands Lands.
Enter a Noble man.

Nob.
My gracious Lord, Henry your Foe is taken,
And brought your Prisoner to your Pallace Gate.

King.
See that he be conuey'd vnto the Tower:
And goe wee Brothers to the man that tooke him,
To question of his apprehension.
Widow goe you along: Lords vse her honourable.
Exeunt. Manet Richard.

Rich.
I, Edward will vse Women honourably:
Would he were wasted, Marrow, Bones, and all,
That from his Loynes no hopefull Branch may spring,
To crosse me from the Golden time I looke for:
And yet, betweene my Soules desire, and me,
The lustfull Edwards Title buryed,
Is Clarence, Henry, and his Sonne young Edward,
And all the vnlook'd-for Issue of their Bodies,
To take their Roomes, ere I can place my selfe:
A cold premeditation for my purpose.
Why then I doe but dreame on Soueraigntie,
Like one that stands vpon a Promontorie,
And spyes a farre-off shore, where hee would tread,
Wishing his foot were equall with his eye,
And chides the Sea, that sunders him from thence,
Saying, hee'le lade it dry, to haue his way:
So doe I wish the Crowne, being so farre off,
And so I chide the meanes that keepes me from it,
And so (I say) Ile cut the Causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities:
My Eyes too quicke, my Heart o're-weenes too much,
Vnlesse my Hand and Strength could equall them.
Well, say there is no Kingdome then for Richard:
What other Pleasure can the World affoord?
Ile make my Heauen in a Ladies Lappe,
And decke my Body in gay Ornaments,
And 'witch sweet Ladies with my Words and Lookes.
Oh miserable Thought! and more vnlikely,
Then to accomplish twentie Golden Crownes.
Why Loue forswore me in my Mothers Wombe:
And for I should not deale in her soft Lawes,
Shee did corrupt frayle Nature with some Bribe,
To shrinke mine Arme vp like a wither'd Shrub,
To make an enuious Mountaine on my Back,
Where sits Deformitie to mocke my Body;
To shape my Legges of an vnequall size,
To dis-proportion me in euery part:
Like to a Chaos, or an vn-lick'd Beare-whelpe,
That carryes no impression like the Damme.
And am I then a man to be belou'd?
Oh monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought.
Then since this Earth affoords no Ioy to me,
But to command, to check, to o're-beare such,
As are of better Person then my selfe:
Ile make my Heauen, to dreame vpon the Crowne,
And whiles I liue, t'account this World but Hell,
Vntill my mis-shap'd Trunke, that beares this Head,
Be round impaled with a glorious Crowne.
And yet I know not how to get the Crowne,
For many Liues stand betweene me and home:
And I, like one lost in a Thornie Wood,
That rents the Thornes, and is rent with the Thornes,
Seeking a way, and straying from the way,
Not knowing how to finde the open Ayre,
But toyling desperately to finde it out,
Torment my selfe, to catch the English Crowne:
And from that torment I will free my selfe,
Or hew my way out with a bloody Axe.
Why I can smile, and murther whiles I smile,
And cry, Content, to that which grieues my Heart,
And wet my Cheekes with artificiall Teares,
And frame my Face to all occasions.
Ile drowne more Saylers then the Mermaid shall,
Ile slay more gazers then the Basiliske,
Ile play the Orator as well as Nestor,
Deceiue more slyly then Vlisses could,
And like a Synon, take another Troy.
I can adde Colours to the Camelion,
Change shapes with Proteus, for aduantages,
And set the murtherous Macheuill to Schoole.
Can I doe this, and cannot get a Crowne?
Tut, were it farther off, Ile plucke it downe.
Exit.
Original text
Act III, Scene III
Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, his Sister
Bona, his Admirall, call'd Bourbon: Prince Edward,
Queene Margaret, and the Earle of Oxford. Lewis sits,
and riseth vp againe.

Lewis.
Faire Queene of England, worthy Margaret,
Sit downe with vs: it ill befits thy State,
And Birth, that thou should'st stand, while Lewis doth sit.

Marg.
No, mightie King of France: now Margaret
Must strike her sayle, and learne a while to serue,
Where Kings command. I was (I must confesse)
Great Albions Queene, in former Golden dayes:
But now mischance hath trod my Title downe,
And with dis-honor layd me on the ground,
Where I must take like Seat vnto my fortune,
And to my humble Seat conforme my selfe.

Lewis.
Why say, faire Queene, whence springs this deepe despaire?

Marg.
From such a cause, as fills mine eyes with teares,
And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.

Lewis.
What ere it be, be thou still like thy selfe,
And sit thee by our side.
Seats her by him.
Yeeld not thy necke
to Fortunes yoake, / But let thy dauntlesse minde
still ride in triumph, / Ouer all mischance.
Be plaine, Queene Margaret, and tell thy griefe,
It shall be eas'd, if France can yeeld reliefe.

Marg.
Those gracious words / Reuiue my drooping thoughts,
And giue my tongue-ty'd sorrowes leaue to speake.
Now therefore be it knowne to Noble Lewis,
That Henry, sole possessor of my Loue,
Is, of a King, become a banisht man,
And forc'd to liue in Scotland a Forlorne;
While prowd ambitious Edward, Duke of Yorke,
Vsurpes the Regall Title, and the Seat
Of Englands true anoynted lawfull King.
This is the cause that I, poore Margaret,
With this my Sonne, Prince Edward, Henries Heire,
Am come to craue thy iust and lawfull ayde:
And if thou faile vs, all our hope is done.
Scotland hath will to helpe, but cannot helpe:
Our People, and our Peeres, are both mis-led,
Our Treasure seiz'd, our Souldiors put to flight,
And (as thou seest) our selues in heauie plight.

Lewis.
Renowned Queene, / With patience calme the Storme,
While we bethinke a meanes to breake it off.

Marg.
The more wee stay, the stronger growes our Foe.

Lewis.
The more I stay, the more Ile succour thee.

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

Lewis.
What's hee approacheth boldly to our presence?

Marg.
Our Earle of Warwicke, Edwards greatest Friend.

Lewis.
Welcome braue Warwicke, what brings thee to France?
Hee descends. Shee ariseth.

Marg.
I now begins a second Storme to rise,
For this is hee that moues both Winde and Tyde.

Warw.
From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My Lord and Soueraigne, and thy vowed Friend,
I come (in Kindnesse, and vnfayned Loue)
First, to doe greetings to thy Royall Person,
And then to craue a League of Amitie:
And lastly, to confirme that Amitie
With Nuptiall Knot, if thou vouchsafe to graunt
That vertuous Lady Bona, thy faire Sister,
To Englands King, in lawfull Marriage.

Marg.

If that goe forward, Henries hope is done.

Warw.
Speaking to Bona.
And gracious Madame, / In our Kings behalfe,
I am commanded, with your leaue and fauor,
Humbly to kisse your Hand, and with my Tongue
To tell the passion of my Soueraignes Heart;
Where Fame, late entring at his heedfull Eares,
Hath plac'd thy Beauties Image, and thy Vertue.

Marg.
King Lewis, and Lady Bona, heare me speake,
Before you answer Warwicke. His demand
Springs not from Edwards well-meant honest Loue,
But from Deceit, bred by Necessitie:
For how can Tyrants safely gouerne home,
Vnlesse abroad they purchase great allyance?
To proue him Tyrant, this reason may suffice,
That Henry liueth still: but were hee dead,
Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henries Sonne.
Looke therefore Lewis, that by this League and Mariage
Thou draw not on thy Danger, and Dis-honor:
For though Vsurpers sway the rule a while,
Yet Heau'ns are iust, and Time suppresseth Wrongs.

Warw.
Iniurious Margaret.

Edw.
And why not Queene?

Warw.
Because thy Father Henry did vsurpe,
And thou no more art Prince, then shee is Queene.

Oxf.
Then Warwicke disanulls great Iohn of Gaunt,
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spaine;
And after Iohn of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whose Wisdome was a Mirror to the wisest:
And after that wise Prince, Henry the Fift,
Who by his Prowesse conquered all France:
From these, our Henry lineally descends.

Warw.
Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse,
You told not, how Henry the Sixt hath lost
All that, which Henry the Fift had gotten:
Me thinkes these Peeres of France should smile at that.
But for the rest: you tell a Pedigree
Of threescore and two yeeres, a silly time
To make prescription for a Kingdomes worth.

Oxf.
Why Warwicke, canst thou speak against thy Liege,
Whom thou obeyd'st thirtie and six yeeres,
And not bewray thy Treason with a Blush?

Warw.
Can Oxford, that did euer fence the right,
Now buckler Falsehood with a Pedigree?
For shame leaue Henry, and call Edward King.

Oxf.
Call him my King, by whose iniurious doome
My elder Brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere
Was done to death? and more then so, my Father,
Euen in the downe-fall of his mellow'd yeeres,
When Nature brought him to the doore of Death?
No Warwicke, no: while Life vpholds this Arme,
This Arme vpholds the House of Lancaster.

Warw.
And I the House of Yorke.

Lewis.
Queene Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,
Vouchsafe at our request, to stand aside,
While I vse further conference with Warwicke.
They stand aloofe.

Marg.
Heauens graunt, that Warwickes wordes bewitch him not.

Lew.
Now Warwicke, tell me euen vpon thy conscience
Is Edward your true King? for I were loth
To linke with him, that were not lawfull chosen.

Warw.
Thereon I pawne my Credit, and mine Honor.

Lewis.
But is hee gracious in the Peoples eye?

Warw.
The more, that Henry was vnfortunate.

Lewis.
Then further: all dissembling set aside,
Tell me for truth, the measure of his Loue
Vnto our Sister Bona.

War.
Such it seemes,
As may beseeme a Monarch like himselfe.
My selfe haue often heard him say, and sweare,
That this his Loue was an externall Plant,
Whereof the Root was fixt in Vertues ground,
The Leaues and Fruit maintain'd with Beauties Sunne,
Exempt from Enuy, but not from Disdaine,
Vnlesse the Lady Bona quit his paine.

Lewis.
Now Sister, let vs heare your firme resolue.

Bona.
Your graunt, or your denyall, shall be mine.
Speaks to War.
Yet I confesse, that often ere this day,
When I haue heard your Kings desert recounted,
Mine eare hath tempted iudgement to desire.

Lewis.
Then Warwicke, thus: / Our Sister shall be Edwards.
And now forthwith shall Articles be drawne,
Touching the Ioynture that your King must make,
Which with her Dowrie shall be counter-poys'd:
Draw neere, Queene Margaret, and be a witnesse,
That Bona shall be Wife to the English King.

Pr.Edw.
To Edward, but not to the English King.

Marg.
Deceitfull Warwicke, it was thy deuice,
By this alliance to make void my suit:
Before thy comming, Lewis was Henries friend.

Lewis.
And still is friend to him, and Margaret.
But if your Title to the Crowne be weake,
As may appeare by Edwards good successe:
Then 'tis but reason, that I be releas'd
From giuing ayde, which late I promised.
Yet shall you haue all kindnesse at my hand,
That your Estate requires, and mine can yeeld.

Warw.
Henry now liues in Scotland, at his ease;
Where hauing nothing, nothing can he lose.
And as for you your selfe (our quondam Queene)
You haue a Father able to maintaine you,
And better 'twere, you troubled him, then France.

Mar.
Peace impudent, and shamelesse Warwicke,
Proud setter vp, and puller downe of Kings,
I will not hence, till with my Talke and Teares
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy slye conueyance, and thy Lords false loue,
For both of you are Birds of selfe-same Feather.
Post blowing a horne Within.

Lewes.
Warwicke, this is some poste to vs, or thee.
Enter the Poste.

Post.
Speakes to Warwick,
My Lord Ambassador, / These Letters are for you.
Sent from your Brother Marquesse Montague.
To Lewis.
These from our King, vnto your Maiesty.
To Margaret
And Madam, these for you: / From whom, I know not.
They all reade their Letters.

Oxf.
I like it well, that our faire Queene and Mistris
Smiles at her newes, while Warwicke frownes at his.

Prince Ed.
Nay marke how Lewis stampes as he were netled.
I hope, all's for the best.

Lew.
Warwicke, what are thy Newes? / And yours, faire Queene.

Mar.
Mine such, as fill my heart with vnhop'd ioyes.

War.
Mine full of sorrow, and hearts discontent.

Lew.
What? has your King married the Lady Grey?
And now to sooth your Forgery, and his,
Sends me a Paper to perswade me Patience?
Is this th' Alliance that he seekes with France?
Dare he presume to scorne vs in this manner?

Mar.
I told your Maiesty as much before:
This proueth Edwards Loue, and Warwickes honesty.

War.
King Lewis, I heere protest in sight of heauen,
And by the hope I haue of heauenly blisse,
That I am cleere from this misdeed of Edwards;
No more my King, for he dishonors me,
But most himselfe, if he could see his shame.
Did I forget, that by the House of Yorke
My Father came vntimely to his death?
Did I let passe th' abuse done to my Neece?
Did I impale him with the Regall Crowne?
Did I put Henry from his Natiue Right?
And am I guerdon'd at the last, with Shame?
Shame on himselfe, for my Desert is Honor.
And to repaire my Honor lost for him,
I heere renounce him, and returne to Henry.
My Noble Queene, let former grudges passe,
And henceforth, I am thy true Seruitour:
I will reuenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former state.

Mar.
Warwicke, / These words haue turn'd my Hate, to Loue,
And I forgiue, and quite forget old faults,
And ioy that thou becom'st King Henries Friend.

War.
So much his Friend, I, his vnfained Friend,
That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish vs
With some few Bands of chosen Soldiours,
Ile vndertake to Land them on our Coast,
And force the Tyrant from his seat by Warre.
'Tis not his new-made Bride shall succour him.
And as for Clarence, as my Letters tell me,
Hee's very likely now to fall from him,
For matching more for wanton Lust, then Honor,
Or then for strength and safety of our Country.

Bona.
Deere Brother, how shall Bona be reueng'd,
But by thy helpe to this distressed Queene?

Mar.
Renowned Prince, how shall Poore Henry liue,
Vnlesse thou rescue him from foule dispaire?

Bona.
My quarrel, and this English Queens, are one.

War.
And mine faire Lady Bona, ioynes with yours.

Lew.
And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margarets.
Therefore, at last, I firmely am resolu'd
You shall haue ayde.

Mar.
Let me giue humble thankes for all, at once.

Lew.
Then Englands Messenger, returne in Poste,
And tell false Edward, thy supposed King,
That Lewis of France, is sending ouer Maskers
To reuell it with him, and his new Bride.
Thou seest what's past, go feare thy King withall.

Bona.
Tell him, in hope hee'l proue a widower shortly,
I weare the Willow Garland for his sake.

Mar.
Tell him, my mourning weeds are layde aside,
And I am ready to put Armor on.

War.
Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore Ile vn-Crowne him, er't be long.
There's thy reward, be gone.
Exit Post.

Lew.
But Warwicke,
Thou and Oxford, with fiue thousand men
Shall crosse the Seas, and bid false Edward battaile:
And as occasion serues, this Noble Queen
And Prince, shall follow with a fresh Supply.
Yet ere thou go, but answer me one doubt:
What Pledge haue we of thy firme Loyalty?

War.
This shall assure my constant Loyalty,
That if our Queene, and this young Prince agree,
Ile ioyne mine eldest daughter, and my Ioy,
To him forthwith, in holy Wedlocke bands.

Mar.
Yes, I agree, and thanke you for your Motion.
Sonne Edward, she is Faire and Vertuous,
Therefore delay not, giue thy hand to Warwicke,
And with thy hand, thy faith irreuocable,
That onely Warwickes daughter shall be thine.

Prin.Ed.
Yes, I accept her, for she well deserues it,
And heere to pledge my Vow, I giue my hand.
He giues his hand to Warw.

Lew.
Why stay we now? These soldiers shalbe leuied,
And thou Lord Bourbon, our High Admirall
Shall waft them ouer with our Royall Fleete.
I long till Edward fall by Warres mischance,
For mocking Marriage with a Dame of France.
Exeunt. Manet Warwicke.

War.
I came from Edward as Ambassador,
But I returne his sworne and mortall Foe:
Matter of Marriage was the charge he gaue me,
But dreadfull Warre shall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a stale but me?
Then none but I, shall turne his Iest to Sorrow.
I was the Cheefe that rais'd him to the Crowne,
And Ile be Cheefe to bring him downe againe:
Not that I pitty Henries misery,
But seeke Reuenge on Edwards mockery.
Exit.
Modern text
Act III, Scene I
Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands

FIRST KEEPER
Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves;
For through this laund anon the deer will come,
And in this covert will we make our stand,
Culling the principal of all the deer.

SECOND KEEPER
I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.

FIRST KEEPER
That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best;
And for the time shall not seem tedious,
I'll tell thee what befell me on a day
In this self place where now we mean to stand.

SECOND KEEPER
Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.
Enter King Henry, disguised, with a prayer-book

KING
From Scotland am I stolen, even of pure love,
To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;
Thy place is filled, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
Thy balm washed off wherewith thou wast anointed;
No bending knee will call thee Caesar now,
No humble suitors press to speak for right,
No, not a man comes for redress of thee;
For how can I help them and not myself?

FIRST KEEPER
Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee:
This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him.

KING
Let me embrace thee, sour adversity,
For wise men say it is the wisest course.

SECOND KEEPER
Why linger we? Let us lay hands upon him.

FIRST KEEPER
Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.

KING
My Queen and son are gone to France for aid;
And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone to crave the French King's sister
To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
Poor Queen and son, your labour is but lost;
For Warwick is a subtle orator,
And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
By this account then Margaret may win him;
For she's a woman to be pitied much.
Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,
To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give;
She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry,
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed;
He smiles, and says his Edward is installed;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
And in conclusion wins the King from her,
With promise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thou wentest forlorn!

SECOND KEEPER
Say, what art thou that talkest of kings and queens?

KING
More than I seem, and less than I was born to:
A man at least, for less I should not be;
And men may talk of kings, and why not I?

SECOND KEEPER
Ay, but thou talkest as if thou wert a king.

KING
Why, so I am, in mind, and that's enough.

SECOND KEEPER
But if thou be a king, where is thy crown?

KING
My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen; my crown is called content;
A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

SECOND KEEPER
Well, if you be a king crowned with content,
Your crown content and you must be contented
To go along with us; for, as we think,
You are the king King Edward hath deposed;
And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy.

KING
But did you never swear, and break an oath?

SECOND KEEPER
No, never such an oath, nor will not now.

KING
Where did you dwell when I was King of England?

SECOND KEEPER
Here in this country, where we now remain.

KING
I was anointed king at nine months old;
My father and my grandfather were kings,
And you were sworn true subjects unto me;
And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?

FIRST KEEPER
No, for we were subjects but while you were king.

KING
Why, am I dead? Do I not breathe a man?
Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear!
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Commanded always by the greater gust;
Such is the lightness of you common men.
But do not break your oaths; for of that sin
My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the King shall be commanded;
And be you kings, command, and I'll obey.

FIRST KEEPER
We are true subjects to the King, King Edward.

KING
So would you be again to Henry,
If he were seated as King Edward is.

FIRST KEEPER
We charge you in God's name, and the King's,
To go with us unto the officers.

KING
In God's name, lead; your king's name be obeyed;
And what God will, that let your king perform;
And what he will, I humbly yield unto.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act III, Scene II
Enter King Edward, Richard Duke of Gloucester,
George Duke of Clarence, and Lady Grey

EDWARD
Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans 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.

RICHARD
Your highness shall do well to grant her suit;
It were dishonour to deny it her.

EDWARD
It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
Yea, is it so?
I see the lady hath a thing to grant
Before the King will grant her humble suit.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
He knows the game; how true he keeps the wind!

RICHARD
(aside to George)
Silence!

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.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
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.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
I fear her not unless she chance to fall.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
God forbid that! For he'll take vantages.

EDWARD
How many children hast thou, widow? Tell me.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
I think he means to beg a child of her.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
Nay then, whip me; he'll rather give her two.

LADY GREY
Three, my most gracious lord.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
You shall have four, if you'll be ruled by him.

EDWARD
'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands.

LADY GREY
Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.

EDWARD
Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave,
Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.
Richard and George go out of earshot

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

LADY GREY
Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.

EDWARD
And would you not do much to do them good?

LADY GREY
To do them good I would sustain some harm.

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

LADY GREY
Therefore I came unto your majesty.

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

LADY GREY
So shall you bind me to your highness' service.

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

LADY GREY
What you command, that rests in me to do.

EDWARD
But you will take exceptions to my boon.

LADY GREY
No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.

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

LADY GREY
Why, then I will do what your grace commands.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
As red as fire! Nay, then her wax must melt.

LADY GREY
Why stops my lord? Shall I not hear my task?

EDWARD
An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.

LADY GREY
That's soon performed, because I am a subject.

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

LADY GREY
I take my leave with many thousand thanks.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.

EDWARD
But stay thee; 'tis the fruits of love I mean.

LADY GREY
The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

EDWARD
Ay, but I fear me in another sense.
What love, thinkest 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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

EDWARD
Therein thou wrongest 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.

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.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
The widow likes him not; she knits her brows.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.

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.
(to Lady Grey)
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.

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.

EDWARD
You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.

LADY GREY
'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father.

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.

RICHARD
(aside to George)
The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

GEORGE
(aside to Richard)
When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift.

EDWARD
Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.

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

EDWARD
You'd think it strange if I should marry her.

GEORGE
To who, my lord?

EDWARD
Why, Clarence, to myself.

RICHARD
That would be ten days' wonder at the least.

GEORGE
That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.

RICHARD
By so much is the wonder in extremes.

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.

EDWARD
See that he be conveyed 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 Richard

RICHARD
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 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 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 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
Modern text
Act III, Scene III
Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, his sister
Bona, his admiral, called 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
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.

LEWIS
Why, say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?

QUEEN
From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
And stops my tongue, while heart is drowned in cares.

LEWIS
Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
And sit thee by our side.
He 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
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 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;
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 seized, 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
The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.

LEWIS
The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.

QUEEN
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
Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.

LEWIS
Welcome, brave Warwick. What brings thee to France?
He descends. She ariseth

QUEEN
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
(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
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
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 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.

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
(aside)
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 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.

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 judgement 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 counterpoised.
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness
That Bona shall be wife to the English king.

PRINCE
To Edward, but not to the English king.

QUEEN
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 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
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
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 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
(to Warwick)
My lord ambassador, these letters are for you,
Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague:
(to Lewis)
These from our King unto your majesty:
(to Queen)
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
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
Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped 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
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 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.
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
Warwick, these words have turned my hate to love;
And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
And joy that thou becomest 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 revenged
But by thy help to this distressed Queen?

QUEEN
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 resolved:
You shall have aid.

QUEEN
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 passed, 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
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
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
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
Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,
And thou, Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral,
Shalt 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 raised 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
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL