Puslapio vaizdai
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K. Lew. But is he gracious in the People's Eyes?
War. The more, that Henry was unfortunate.
K. Lew. Then further; all diffembling fet aside,
Tell me for truth, the meafure of his love
Unto our Sifter Bona.

War. Such it feems,

'As may beseem a Monarch like himself:
My felf have often heard him fay and swear,
That this his Love was an external Plant,
Whereof the Root was fix'd in Virtue's ground,
The Leaves and Fruit maintain'd with Beauty's Sun
Exempt from Envy, but not from Difdain,
Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

K. Lew. Now Sifter, let us hear your firm refolve.
Bond. Your grant, or your denial, fhall be mine.
Yet I confefs, that often ere this Day,

[Speaks to Warwick. When I have heard your King's defért recounted,

Mine Ear hath tempted Judgment to defire.

K. Lew. Then Warwick, this:

Our Sifter fhall be Edward's.

And now forthwith fhall Articles be drawn,
Touching the Jointure that your King must make,
Which with her Dowry fhall be counterpois'd.
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness,
That Bona fhall be Wife to th' 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.

K. Lew. And ftill 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 reafon that I be releas'd
From giving Aid, which late I promised.
Yet fhall you have all kindness at my Hand,
That your Eftate requires, and mine can yield.
War. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lofe.

And

And as for you your self, our quondam Queen,
You have a Father able to maintain you,

And better it were you troubled him, than France.
Queen. Peace impudent and fhameless Warwick, peace,
Proud fetter 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 fly Conveyance, and thy Lord's falfe Love.

[Poft blowing a Horn within

For both of you are Birds of felf-fame Feather.
K. Lew. Warwick, this is fome Poft to us, or thee..

Enter a Poft.

Poft. My Lord Ambaffador,

Thefe Letters are for you;

[To Warwick.

Sent from your Brother, Marquefs Montague.

These from our King unto your Majesty. [To K. Lew. And Madam, these for you,

From whom I know not.

[To the Queen, [They all read their Letters Oxf. I like it well, that our fair Queen and Mistress Smiles at her News, while Warwick frowns at his. Prince. Nay, mark how Lewis ftamps as he were nettled.

I hope all's for the best.

K. Lew. Warwick what are thy News?

And yours, fair Queen?

Queen. Mine fuch as fills my Heart with unhop'd Joys.

War. Mine full of Sorrow, and Heart's Discontent.
K. Lew. What! has your King Married the Lady Gray?
And now, to footh your Forgery and his,

Sends me a Paper to perfwade me Patience?
Is this Alliance that he feeks with France ?
Dare he prefume to fcorn us in this manner?
Queen. I told your Majesty as much before;
This proveth Edward's Love, and Warwick's Honefty.
War. King Lewis, I here proteft in fight of Heav'n,
And by the hope I have of Heav'nly Bifs,

That

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That I am clear from this Mifdeed of Edward's
No more my King; for he dishonours me,
But moft himself, if he could fee his Shame.
Did I forget, that by the House of York
My Father came untimely to his Death?
Did I let pafs 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 guerdon'd at the laft with Shame?
Shame on himself, for my Defert is Honour.
And to repair my Honour loft for him,
1 here renounce him, and return to Henry.
My Noble Queen, let former grudges país,
And henceforth I am thy true Servitor:
I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former ftate.
Queen. Warwick,

Thele Words have turn'd my Hate to Love,
And I forgive, and quite forget old Faults,

And Joy that thou becom'ft King Henry's Friend.

War. So much his Friend, ay, his unfeigned Friend,

That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us

With fome few Bands of chofen Soldiers,
I'll undertake to Land them on our Coaft,
And force the Tyrant from his Seat by War.
'Tis not his new-made Bride fhall fuccour him:
And as for Clarence, as my Letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him,

For matching more for wanton Luft than Honour,
Or than for ftrength and fafety of our Country.
Bona. Dear Brother, how fhall Bona be reveng'd,
But by thy help to this diftreffed Queen?

Queen. Renowned Prince, how fhall poor Henry live, Unless thou refcue him from foul despair?

Bona. My quarrel, and this English Queen's are one. War. And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours. K. Lew. And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margaret's. Therefore at laft, I firmly am refoly❜d

You fhall have Aid..

Queen

Queen. Let me give humble thanks for all at once.
K. Lew. Then England's Meffenger, return in Poft,
And tell false Edward, thy fuppofed King,

That Lewis of France, is fending over Maskers
To revel it with him, and his new Bride.
Thou feeft what's paft, go fear thy King withal.

Bona. Tell him, in hope he'll prove a Widower fhortly,

I wear the Willow Garland for his fake.

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

War. Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong, And therefore I'll Uncrown him c'er't be long. There's thy Reward, be gone.

K. Lew. But Warwick,

Thou and Oxford, with five thousand Men

[Exit Poft

Shall cross the Seas, and bid falfe Edward Battel:
And as occafion ferves, this Noble Queen
And Prince fhall follow with a fresh Supply.
Yet e'er thou go, but answer me one doubt:
What Pledge have we of thy firm Loyalty?

War. This fhall affure my conftant Loyalty,
That if our Queen and this young Prince agree,
I'll join my eldeft Daughter, and my Joy,
To him forthwith, in holy Wedlock Bands.
Queen. Yes, I agree, and thank
1
you for
your Motion.
Son Edward, fhe is Fair and Virtuous,
Therefore delay not, give thy Hand to Warwick,
And with thy Hand, thy Faith irrevocable,
That only Warwick's Daughter fhall be thine.
Prince. Yes, I accept her, for the well deferves it,
And here to pledge my Vow, I give my Hand.

[He gives his Hand to Warwick: K. Lew. Why stay we now? thefe Soldiers fhall be levy'd, And thou Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral, Shall waft them over with our Royal Fleet. I long 'till Edward fall by War's Mifchance, For mocking Marriage with a Dame of France.

[Exeunt. Manet Warwick!

War:

War. I came from Edward as Ambaffador,
But I return his fworn and mortal Foe:
Matters of Marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful War fhall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a ftale but me?
Then none but I, fhall turn his Jeft to Sorrow.
I was the chief that rais'd him to the Crown,
And I'll be chief to bring him down again:
Not that I pity Henry's Mifery,

But feek Revenge on Edward's Mockery.

ACT

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