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Hum. Here in this Country, where we now remain.
K. Henry. I was anointed King at nine Months old,
My Father, and my Grandfather were Kings;
And you were sworn true Subje&s unto me:
And tell me then, have you not broke your Oaths ?
Sink. No, for we were Subjects but while you were a King.
K. Henry. Why, am' I dead? do I not breathe a Man? Ah simple Men, you know not what you
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 Oath, for of that Sin
My mild intreaty shall not make you guilty,
Go where you will, the King shall be commanded,
And be you Kings, command, and I'll obey.
Sink. We are true Subje&s to the King,
K. Henry. So would you be again to Henry, If he were seated as King Edward is.
Sink. We charge you in God's Name and in the King's, To go with us unto the Officers.
K. Henry. In God's Name lead, your King's Name be oAnd what God will, that let your King perform, [bey'd, And, what he will, I humbly yield unto. [Exeunt Enter King Edward, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady Gray
K. Edv. Brother of Gloster, at St. Alban's Field
This Lady's Husband, Sir Richard Gray, was Nain,
His Land then seiz'd 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.
Glo. Your Highness shall do well to grant her Suit:
It were dislionour to deny it her.
K. Edw. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.
Glo. Yea! is it so ?
I see the Lady hath a thing to grant,
Before the King will grant her humble Suit.
Clar. He knows the Game, how true he keeps the Wind?
K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit,
And come, some other time, to know our Mind.
Gray. Right gracious Lord, I cannot brook delay,
May it pleate your Highness to resolve me now.
And what your pleasure is, thall satisfie me.
Glo. Ay, Widow! then I'll warrant you all your Lands,
And if what pleases him, thall please you :
Fight closer, or good faith you'll catch a blow.
Clur. I fear her not, unless the chance to fall.
Glo. God forbid that, for he'll take vantages.
K. Edw. How many Children haft thou, Widow? tell me,
Clar. I think he means to beg a Child of her.
Glo. Nay then whip me; he'll rather give her two.
Gray. Three, my most gracious Lord.
Glo. You shall have four, if you'll be ruld by him.
K. Ediv. 'Twere pity they should lose their Father's Lands.
Gray. Be pitiful, dread Lord, and grant it then.
K. Edw. Lords, give us leave, I'll try this Widow's wit.
Glo. Ay, good leave have you, for you will have leave, 'Till Youth take leave, and leave you to the Crutch.
K. Edw. Now tell me, Madam, do you love your Children.
Gray. Ay, full as dearly as I love my self.
K. Edw. And wouli you not do much to do them good.
Gray. To do them good, I would sustain some harm.
K. Edu. Then get your Husband's Lands, to do them good,
Gray. Therefore I came unto your Majesty,
K. Édw. Pil tell you how these Lands are to be got.
Gray. So shall you bind me to your Highness Service.
K. Edw. What Service wilt thou do me, if I give them?
Gray. What you command that rests in me to do.
K. Édw. Bit you will take exceptions to my Boon.
Gray. No, gracious Lord, except I cannot do it.
K. Edw. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
Gray. Why then I will do what your Grace commands,
Glo. He plies her hard, and much Rain wears the Marble.
Clar. As red as fire! nay, then her Wax will melt.
Gray. Why stops my Lord? Ihall I not hear my Task?
K. Edw. An easie Task, 'tis but to love a King.
Gray. That's soon performid, because I am a Subject.
K. Edw. Why then, thy Husband's Lands I freely give thee.
Gray. "I take my leave with many thousand Thanks.
Glo. The match is made, the seals it with a Curtfie. :
K. Edw. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of Love I mean.
Gray. The fruits of Love, I mean, my loving Liege.
K. Edw. Ay, but I fear me in another sense.
What Love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?
Gray. My Love 'till Death, my humble Thanks, my Prayers. That Love which Virtue begs, and Virtue grants.
K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such Love. Gray. Why then you mean not as I thought you did. K. Édw. But now you partly may perceive my Mind.
Gray. My Mind will never grant what I perceive
Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright.
K. Edw. To tell thee plain, I aim to lye with thee.
Gray. To tell you plain, I had rather !ye in Prison.
K. Edw. Why then thou shalt not have thy Husband's Lands.
Gray. Why then mine Honesty shall be my Dower, For by that Loss I will not purchase them.
K. Edw. Therein thou wrong'st thy Children mightily.
Gray. 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.
K. Édw. Ay; if thou wilt say Ay to my request ;
No; if thou dost say No to my demand.
Gray. Then No, my Lord ; my Suit is at an end.
Glo. The Widow likes him not, she knits her Brows.
Clar. He is the bluntest Wooer in Christendom.
K. Edw. Her Looks do argue her repleat with Modesty,
Her Words do fhew her Wit incomparable,
All her Perfe&tions challenge Sovereignty,
One way or other she is for a King,
And the shall be my Love, or else my Queen.
Say, that King Edward take thee for his Queen?
Gray. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious Lord ; I am a Subject fit to jest withal, But far unfit to be a Sovereign, 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.
Gray. 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.
Gray. 'Twill grieve your Grace, my Sons Thall call you
K. Édw. No more than when my Daughters [Father.
Call thee Mother,
Thou art a Widow, and thou hast some Children,
And by God's Mother, I being but a Barchelor,
Have other some. Wby, '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 haih done his Shrift.
Clar. When he was made a Shriver, it was for a shift.
K. Edw. Brother, you muse what Chat we two have had.
Glo. The Widow likes it not, for she looks fad.
K. Edw. You'ld think it strange, if I should marry her.
Clar. To whom, my Lord?
K. Edw. Why Clarerice, to my self.
Glo. That would be ten days wonder at the leaft.
Clur. That's a day longer than a Wonder lasts.
Glo. By so much is the Wonder in extreams.
K. Edw. Well, jest on, Brothers, I can tell you both,
Her fuit 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 honourably.
Glo. Ay, Edward will use Women honourably.
Would he were waited, Marrow, Bones, and all,
That from his Loins no hopeful Branch may spring,
To cross me from the golden time I look for:
And yes, between my Soul's desire and me,
the luftful 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 e'er I can place my self:
A cold premeditation for my purpose.
Why then I do but dream on Sovereignty,
Like one that stands upon a Promontory,
And spys 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 lave 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,
Arld fo (I fay) I'll cut the Causes off,
Flattering me with Impossibilities:
My Eye's too quick, my Heart o’er-weens too much,
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
And 'witch sweet Ladies with my Words and Looks.
Oh 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 like to a' withei'd Mrub,
To make an envious Mountain on my Back,
Where fits Deformity to mock my Body;
To shape my Legs of an unequal fize,
To disproportion me in every part:
Like to a Chaos, or unlick'd Bear whelp
That carries no impression like the Dam.
And am I then a Man to be belov'd?
Oh monstrous Fault, to harbour such a Thought.
Then fince this Earth affords no Joy to me,
But to command, to check, to o'er-bear such
As are of better Person than my self;
I'll make my Heaven to dream upon the Crown,
And while I live t'account this World but Hell,
Until this miss-thap'd Trunk that bears this Hrad,