This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head,
And rear it in the place your father's stands.-
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king.
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
And ask the lady Bona for thy queen :

So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again;

For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears.
First, will I see the coronation;

And then to Britany I'll cross the sea,

To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.

Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be : For on thy shoulder do I build my seat;

And never will I undertake the thing,

Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.

Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster ;

And George, of Clarence ;-Warwick, as ourself,

Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.

Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence, George, of Gloster, For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.*

War. Tut, that's a foolish observation;

Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London,

To see these honours in possession.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A Chace in the North of England. Enter two Keepers, with Cross-bows in their Hands.

1 Keeper.

UNDER this thick-growing 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.

2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. 1 Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow

[4] Alluding, perhaps, to the deaths of Thomas of Woodstock, and Humphrey, Dukes of Gloster. STEEVENS.

[5] Laund means the same as lawn; a plain extended between woods. STEEV

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.

2 Keep. Here comes a man, let's stay till he be past.
Enter King HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book.
K. Hen. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love,
To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;

Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
Thy balm wash'd off, wherewith thou wast anointed :
No bending knee will call thee Cæsar 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?

1 Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee:
This is the quondam king;3 let's seize upon him.
K. Hen. Let me embrace these sour adversities;
For wise men say, it is the wisest course.

2 Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. 1 Keep. Forbear a while; we'll hear a little more. K. Hen. 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;
Fer 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, while 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.

[2] This is an image very frequent in the works of Shakespeare. It is common in these plays to find the same images, whether jocular or serious, frequently recurring. JOHNSON.

[3] Quondam had not in Shakespeare's time uniformly acquired a ludicrous sense. HOLT WHITE.

She weeps, and says-her Henry is depos'd;
He smiles, and says-his Edward is install'd;

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 went'st forlorn.

2 Keep. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings and queens? K. Hen. 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?

2 Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. 2 Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown ? K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head ; Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd, content;

A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.

2 Keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd 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 depos'd;
And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy.

K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an oath?
2 Keep. No, never such an oath, nor will not now.
K. Hen. Where did you dwell, when I was king of
England?

2 Keep. Here in this country, where we now remain, K. Hen. 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? 1 Keep. No;

For we were subjects, but while you were king.

K. Hen. 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,

[4] The piety of Henry scarce interests us more for his misfortunes, than this his constant solicitude for the welfare of his deceitful queen. STEEVENS,

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...

1 Keep. We are true subjects to the king, king Edward.
K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry,

If he we were seated as king Edward is.

1 Keep. We charge you, in God's name, and in the king's, To go with us unto the officers.

K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: And what God will, then let your king perform ; And what he will, I humbly yield unto.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King EDWARD,
GLOSTER, CLARENCE, and Lady GREY.

K. Edw. Brother of Gloster, at St. Albans' field
The lady's husband, sir John Grey, was slain,
His lands 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 dishonour, 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?

Glo. Silence !

K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit.

And come some other time, to know our mind;

[Aside. [Aside

L. 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.

[5] This is a very lively and sprightly dialogue; the reciprocation is quicker than is common in Shakespeare. JOHNSON.

Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all your lands,

[Aside. Aside.

An if what pleases him, shall pleasure you.
Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.
Clar. I fear her not, unless she chance to fall.
Glo. God forbid that! for he'll take vantages.
K. Edw. How many children hast thou, widow ? tell me.
Clar. I think, he means to beg a child of her.
Glo. Nay, whip me then; he'll rather give her two.

[Aside.

[Aside.

L. Grey. Three, my most gracious lord.
Glo. You shall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him. [Aside.
K.Edw. 'Twere pity, they should lose their father's lands.
L. Grey. 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.

[GLOSTER and CLARENCE retire to the other side. K. Edw. Now tell me, madam, do you love

dren?

your chil

L. Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
K. Edw. And would you not do much, to do them good?
L. Grey. To do them good, I would sustain some harm.
K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands to do them good.
L. Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty.
K. Edw. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.
L. Grey. So shall you bind me to your highness' service.
K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?
L. Grey. What you command, that rests in me to do.
K. Edw. But you will take exceptions to my boon.
L. Grey. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.
K. Edw. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
L. Grey. Why, then I will do what your grace commands.
Glo. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the
[Aside.
Clar. As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt. [Asi.
L. Grey. Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my task?
K. Edw. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.
L. Grey. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.
K. Edw. Why then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee
L. Grey. I take my leave with many thousand thanks.
Glo. The match is made; she seals it with a curt'sy.
K. Edw. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean.
L. Grey. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

marble.