« PředchozíPokračovat »
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 sents 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,
Tormene my self to catch the English Crown;
And from that torment I will free my self,
Or hew my way out with a bloody Ax.
Why I can smile, and murther wbiles I finile,
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 Thall,
I'll Nay more Gazers than the Basilisk,
I'll play the Orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more Nily than Olylles could,
And like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add Colours to the Camelion,
Change shapes with Proteus for Advantages,
And fit the murtherous Matchevil to School.
Can I do this, and cannot get a Crown?
Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down, [Exit.
Flourish. Enter King Lewis, Bona, Bourbon, Prince of
Wales, Queen Margaret, and the Earl of Oxford. Lewis fits, and riseth up again.
K. Lew. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
Sit down with us; it ill befits thy State,
And Birth, that thou should's stand, whiles Lewis Girs.
Queen. 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
Title down, And with dishonour laid me on the Gronud,
Where I must take like seat unto my Fortune,
And to my humble seat confirm my felf.
K. Lew. Why say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair
Queen. 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 thy self, And fit thee by our side,
[Seats her by him. Yield not thy Neck to Fortune's yoak, But let thy dauntless Mind still ride in triumph Over all mischance. Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy Grief, It mall be eas’d, if France can yield relief.
Queen. Those gracious Wordsrevivemy drooping Thoughts, And give my Tongue-ty'd Sorrows leave to speak. Now therefore be it known to Noble Lewis, That Henry, fole pofleflor of my Love, Is, of a King, become a banith's Man, And forc'd to live in Scotland a Forlorn; While proud ambitious Edward, Duke of York, Usurps the Regal Title, and the Seat Of England's true anointed lawful King. This is the Cause that I, poor Margaret, With this my Son Prince Edward, Henry's Heir, Am come to crave thy just and lawful Aid : And if thou fail us, all our hope is done, Scotland hath Will to help, but cannot help: Our People, and our Peers, are both mis-led, Our Treasure seiz'd, our Soldiers put to flight, And, as thou seest, our Selves in heavy plight.
K. Lew. Renowned Queen, with patience calm the Storm, While we bethink a means to break it off.
Queen. The more we stay, the stronger grows our Foe.
K. Lew. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.
Queen. O, but impatience waiteth on true Sorrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my Sorrow.
X. Lew. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?
Queen, Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest Friend.
K. Lew, Welcome, brave Warwick; what brings thee to France ?
[He descends. She ariseth.
Queen. Ay, now begins a second Storm to rise,
For this is he that moves both Wind and Tide.
War. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My Lord and Sovereign, and thy vowed Friend,
I come (in Kindness and unfeigned Love)
First to do greetings to thy Royal Person,
And then to crave a League of Amity;
And lastly, to confirm that Amity
With Nuptial Knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
That vertuous Lady Bona, thy fair Sister,
To England's King in lawful Marriage.
Queen. If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.
War. And gracious Madam, [Speaking to Bor.a. In our King's behalf, I am commanded, with your leave and favour, Humbly to kiss your Hand, and with my Tongue To tell the passion of my Sovereign's Heart; Where Fame, late entring at his heedful Ears, Hath plac'd thy Beauty's Image, and thy Virtue,
Queen. King Lewis, and Lady Bona, hear me speak,
Before you answer Warwick. His demand
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest Love,
But from Deceit, bred by Necessity:
For how can Tyrants fafely govern home,
Unless Abroad they purchace great Alliance ?
To prove him Tyrant, this reason may suffice,
That Henry liveth still; but were he dead,
Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's Son.
Look therefore Lewis, that by this League and Marriage
Thou draw not on thy Danger and Dishonour:
For though Usurpers (way the Rule a while,
Yet Heavens are just, and Time suppresseth Wrongs.
War. Injurious Margaret.
Prince. And why not Queen.
War. Because thy Father Henry did usurp,
And thou no more art Prince than she is Queen.
Oxf. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
Which did fubdue the greatest part of Spain;
And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Wore Wisdom was a Mirror to the wisest;
And after that wise Prince, Henry the Fifth,
Who by his Prowess conquered all France:
From these our Henry lineally descends.
War. Oxford, how haps it in this smooth Discourse,
You told not, how Henry the Sixth hath lost
All that, which Henry the Fifth had gotten;
Methinks these Peers of France should smile at that.
But for the rest; you tell a Pedigree
Of threescore and two Years, a lilly time
To make prescription for a Kingdom's worth.
Oxf. Why Warwick, canst thou speak against my Liege
Whom thou obey’dst thirty and fix Years,
And not bewray thy Treason with a blush?
War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler fasthood with a Pedigree?
For shame leave Henry, and call Edward King.
Oxf. Call him my King, by whose injurious doom
My elder Brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere
Was done to Death? and more than so, my Father,
Even in the downfal of his mellow'd Years,
When Nature brought him to the door of Death
No Warwick, no; while Life upholds this Arm,
This Arm upholds the House of Lancaster.
War. And I the House of York.
K. Lew. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford Vouchsafe at our requeit, to stand afide, While I use farther Conference with Warwick.
[They stand aloof. Queen. Heavens grant that Warwick's Words bewitch him
K. Lew. Now Warwick, tell me even upon thy Conscience,
Is Edward your true King? for I were loth
To link with him that were not lawful chofen.
War. Thereon I pawn my Credit, and mire Honour.
K. Lew. But is he gracious in the People's Eyes?
War. The more, that Henry was unfortunate,
K. Lew. Then further; all dissembling set aside,
Tell me for truth, the measure of his love
Unto our Sifter Bona.
War. Such it seems,
As may beseem a Monarch like himself:
My self have often heard him lay and swear,
That this his Love was an external Plant,
Whereof the Root was fix'd in Virtue's ground,
The Leaves and Fruit maintain’d with Beauty's Sung
Exempt from Envy, but not from Disdain,
Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
K. Lew. Now Sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
Bona. Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine.
Yet I confess, that often e'er this Day, LSpeaks to Warwick.
When I have heard your King's desert recounted,
Mine Ear hath tempted Judgment to desire.
K. Low. Then Warwick, this:
Qur Sister shall be Edward's.
And now forthwith shall Articles be drawn,
Touching the Jointure that your King must make,
Which with her Dowry shall be counterpois'd,
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness,
That Bona shall be Wife to th’English King.
Prince. To Edward, but not to the English King.
Qween. Decertfui Warwick, it was thy device,
By this Alliance to make void my Suit;
Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's Friend.
K. Lew. And still is Friend to him and Margaret;
But if your Title to the Crown be weak,
As may appear by Edward's good Success;
Then 'tis but reason that I be releas'd
From giving Aid, which Jate I promised.
Yet shall you have all kindness at my Hand,
That your Estate requires, and mine can yield.
War. Henry now lives in Scotland at his case,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
And as for you your self, our quondam Queen,
You have a father able to maintain you,
And better it were you troubled him, than France.
Queen. Peace impudent and shameless Warwick, peace,
Proud setter up, and puller down of Kings,
I will not hence, 'till with my Talk and Tears
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy fly Conveyance, and thy Lord's false Love.
[Poft blowing a Horn within. For both of you are Birds of self same Feather.