K. Edw. 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.

L. 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.

K. Edw. You cavil, widow; I did mean, my

queen.

L. Grey. Twill grieve your grace, my sons should call you-father.

K. Edw. 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.
Glo. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

[Aside.

Clar. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift.

[Aside.

K. Edw. Brothers, you muse what chat we two

have had.

*Glo. The widow likes it not, for she looks sad. K. Edw. You'd think it strange, if I should marry

her.

Clar. To whom, my lord?

K. Edw.

Why, Clarence, to myself. Glo. That would be ten days' wonder, at the ieast. Clar. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.

'Glo. By so much is the wonder in extremes. K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both,

Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.

Enter a Nobleman.

Nob. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, 'And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. K. Edw. 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 honourable.

[Exeunt King Edward, Lady Grey, Clarence, and Lord.

Glo. 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:

F

* So do I wish the crown, being so far off; *And so I chide the means that keep 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 belov'd?

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, to account this world but hell, * Until my misshap'd 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 while 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 cameleon;
'Change shapes, with Proteus, for advantages,
' And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
'Tut! were it further off, I'll pluck it down.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

FRANCE. A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, and Lady Bona, attended; the King takes his state. Then enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward her Son, and the Earl of Oxford.

'K. Lew. Fair queen of England, worthy Mar

garet,

Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state,

[rising.

'And birth, that thou should'st stand, while Lewis

doth sit.

* Q. Mar. 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 seat conform myself. *K. Lew. Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair?

* Q. Mar. From such a cause as fills mine eyes

with tears,

* And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in

cares.

* K. Lew. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, *And sit thee by our side: yield not thy neck [Seats her by him.