And I no friends to back my suit withal,

But the plain devil, and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her,—all the world to nothing!
Ha!

Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,-
Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,—
The spacious world cannot again afford:

And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halt, and am misshapen thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while:
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking-glass;
And entertain a score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body:
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with some little cost.
But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave;
And then return lamenting to my love.-
Shine out, fair sun, 'till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.

[Exit.

1

-SCENE III.

THE SAME. A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

Enter Queen Elizabeth, Lord Rivers, and Lord

Grey.

Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt,
his majesty

Will soon recover his accustom'd health.

Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him

worse:

Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
And cheer his grace with quick and merry words.
Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of
me?

Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord.

Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all
harms.

Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a
goodly son,

To be your comforter, when he is gone.

Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority
Is put unto the trust of Richard Glo'ster,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector?
Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.

Enter Buckingham and Stanley.

Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and

Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have

been!

Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of Stanley,

To your good prayer will scarcely say—amen.
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd,
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe
The envious slanders of her false accusers;
Or, if she be accus'd on true report,

Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley?

Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, Are come from visiting his majesty.

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment,

lords?

Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully.

Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer with him?

Buck. Ay, madam: he desires to make atone

ment

Between the duke of Glo'ster and your brothers, And between them and my lord chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well!-But that will never be;

I fear, our happiness is at the height.

Enter Glo'ster, Hastings, and Dorset.

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:

Who are they, that complain unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly,
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,

I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace?

Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee

wrong?

Or thee?—or thee?-or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all! His royal grace,—
Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,

But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.
Q. Eliz. Brother of Glo'ster, you mistake the

matter:

The king, of his own royal disposition,
And not provok'd by any suitor else;
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred.
That in your outward action shows itself,
Against my children, brothers, and myself,

Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

Glo. I cannot tell;-The world is grown so bad, That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch: Since every Jack became a gentleman,

There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Glo'ster;

You

envy my advancement, and my friends; God grant, we never may have need of you! Glo. Meantime, God grants that we have need

of you:

Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility

Held in contempt; while great promotions

Are daily given, to enoble those

That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this careful

height

From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,

I never did incense his majesty

Against the duke of Clarence, but have been

An earnest advocate to plead for him.

My lord, you do me shameful injury,

Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

Of

Glo. You may deny that you were not the cause

my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

Riv. She may, my lord; for-—

Glo. She may, lord Rivers?-why, who knows

not so?

She may do more, sir, than denying that: