K. Henry. Let me embrace thefe four adverfities;
For wife men fay, it is the wifest course.

Hum. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.
Sink. Forbear awhile, we'll hear a little more.

K. Henry. My Queen and fon are gone to France for aid:
And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone to crave the French King's fifter
To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
Poor Queen and fon! your labour is but loft:
For Warwick is a fubtle orator:

And Lervis, a Prince foon won with moving words.
By this account, then, Margaret may win him,
For fhe's a woman to be pitied much:
Her fighs will make a batt'ry in his breaft;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tyger will be mild, while the doth mourn;
And Nero would be tainted with remorse,
To hear and fee her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but he's come to beg, Warwick to give :
She, on his left fide, craving aid for Henry;
He, on his right, afking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and fays, her Henry is depos'd;
He fmiles, and fays, his Edward is inftall'd;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more!
While Warwick tells his title, fmooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty ftrength,

And in conclufion wins the King from her;
With promife of his fifter, and what else,

To ftrengthen, and fupport, King Edward's place.
O Margret, thus 'twill be, and thou (poor foul)
Art then forfaken, as thou went'ft forlorn.

Hum. Say, what art thou that talk'ft of Kings andQueens? K. Henry. 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?

Hum. Ay, but thou talk't, as if thou wert a King. K. Henry. Why, fo I am in mind, and that's enough. Hum. But if thou be a King, where is thy crown ? K. Henry. My crown is in my heart, not on my head: Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones;

Not

Not to be feen: my crown is call'd content;
A crown it is, that feldom Kings enjoy.

Hum. 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 fubjects, fworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy.

K. Henry. But did you never fwear and break an oath ?
Hum. No, never fuch an oath; nor will not now.

K. Henry. Where did you dwell, when I was King of England?

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 fworn true fubjects unto me:
And tell me then, have you not broke your oaths?
Sink. No, we were fubjects but while you were King.
K. Henry. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe, a man ?
Ah, fimple 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,
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 fin
My mild intreaty fhall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the King fhall be commanded;
And be you Kings, command, and I'll obey.

Sink. We are true fubjects to the King, King Edward.
K. Henry. So would you be again to Henry,

If he were feated 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

obey'd:

And what God will, that let your King perform;

And what he will, I humbly yield unto.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Palace.

Enter King Edward, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady Gray. Rother of Glofter, at St. Alban's field

K.Edw. B

This Lady's husband, Sir John Gray, was flain,

His land then feiz'd on by the conqueror:

Her fuit is now to repoffefs those lands,
Which we in justice cannot well deny ;
Because, in quarrel of the houfe of York, (15)
The worthy gentleman did lose his life.

Glo. Your Highness shall do well to grant her fuit : It were dishonour to deny it her.

K. Edw. It were no lefs; but yet I'll make a pause. Glo. Yea! is it fo?

I fee, the Lady hath a thing to grant,

Before the King will grant her humble fuit.

Clar. He knows the game; how true he keeps the wind ♪ Glo. Silence.

K. Edw. Widow, we will confider of your fuit, And come fome other time to know our mind.

Gray. Right gracious Lord, I cannot brook delay. May't please your Highness to refolve me now? And what your pleasure is, fhall satisfy me.

Glo. Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all your lands, An if what pleases him, fhall pleasure you : Fight clofer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. Clar. I fear her not, unless fhe chance to fall. Glo. God forbid that! for he'll take vantages.

(15) Because in quarrel of the house of York,

The worthy gentleman did lofe his life.] I am afraid our poet puts falfe colours on the death of Sir John Gray, to palliate King Edward's marriage with the widow. Sir John Gray was flain at the last battle of St. Albans, by the power of King Edward; as Hall exprefsly fays: fo that he was in Queen Margaret's army, and really flain on the quarrel of Lancaster. And King Edward's Queen, in Richard III. is reproach'd of this by Gloucester.

In all which time you and your husband Gray
Were factious for the houfe of Lancaster.

------Was not your husband

In Margret's battle at St. Alban's flain?

K. Edw.

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.
Gray. Three, my most gracious Lord.
Glo. You shall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him.
K. Edw. '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 myself.
K. Edw. And would you not do much to do them

good?

Gray. To do them good, I would sustain some harm. K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands, to do them

good.

Gray. Therefore I came unto your Majesty.
K. Edw. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.
Gray. So shall you bind me to your Highness' fervice.
K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?
Gray. What you command, that rests in me to do.
K. Edw. But 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 afk.
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 must melt.
Gray. Why stops my Lord? shall I not hear my task ?
K. Edw. An easy task, 'tis but to love a King.
Gray. That's foon perform'd, 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, she seals it with a curtsy. 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'ft thou, I fue fo 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 fuch love, Gray. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. K. Edw. 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 lie with thee.
Gray. To tell you plain, I'd rather lie in prifon.
K. Edw. Why then thou shalt not have thy husband's

lands.

Gray. Why, then mine honefty fhall be my dower; For by that lofs I will not purchase them.

K. Edw. Therein thou wrong't thy children mightily. Gray. Herein your Highness wrongs both them and me: But, mighty Lord, this merry inclination

Accords not with the fadness of my fuit;

Please you difmifs me, or with.ay, or no.

K. Edw. Ay; if thou wilt fay, ay, to my requcft: No; if thou doft fay, no, to my demand.

Gray. Then, no, my Lord; my fuit is at an end. Glo. The widow likes him not, the knits her brows. Clar. He is the blunteft wooer in christendom. . K. Edw. Her looks do argue her replete with modefty, Her words do fhew her wit incomparable,

All her perfections challenge fovereignty;

One way, or other, fhe is for a King.

And the fhall be my love, or else my Queen.

Say, that King Edward take thee for his Queen?
Gray. 'Tis better faid than done, my gracious Lord;
I am a fubject fit to jeft withal,

But far unfit to be a Sovereign.

K. Edr. Sweet widow, by my ftate I swear to tl.ee, I speak no more than what my foul 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.

VOL. V.

G

K. Edw.