The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

mother.

Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; And, by God’s Mother, I, being but a bachelor, Have other some. Why, ‘tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.

Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.

GLOUCESTER. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

CLARENCE. When he was made a shriver, ‘twas for shrift.

KING EDWARD. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.

GLOUCESTER. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.

KING EDWARD. You’d think it strange if I should marry her.

CLARENCE. To who, my lord?

KING EDWARD. Why, Clarence, to myself.

GLOUCESTER. That would be ten days’ wonder at the least.

CLARENCE. That’s a day longer than a wonder lasts.

GLOUCESTER. By so much is the wonder in extremes.

KING EDWARD. Well, jest on, brothers; I can tell you both Her suit is granted for her husband’s lands.

 

Enter a NOBLEMAN

 

NOBLEMAN. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.

KING EDWARD. 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.

Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER. Ay, Edward will use women honourably.

Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all, That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring To cross me from the golden time I look for!

And yet, between my soul’s desire and meThe lustful 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 ere I can place myself.

A cold premeditation for my purpose!

Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty; Like one that stands upon a promontory And spies 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 lade 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; And so I say I’ll cut the causes off, Flattering me with impossibilities.

My eye’s too quick, my heart o’erweens too much, Unless my 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 gay ornaments,

And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.

O 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 up like a wither’d shrub To make an envious mountain on my back, Where sits deformity to mock my body; To shape my legs of an unequal size;

To disproportion me in every part,

Like to a chaos, or an unlick’d bear-whelp That carries no impression like the dam.

And am I, then, a man to be belov’d?

O monstrous fault to harbour such a thought!

Then, since this earth affords no joy to me But to command, to check, to o’erbear such As are of better person than myself,

I’ll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, And whiles I live t’ account this world but hell, Until my misshap’d trunk that bear this head 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 rents 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-Torment myself to catch the English crown; And from that torment I will free myself Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.

Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, 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 shall; I’ll slay more gazers than the basilisk; I’ll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.

I can add colours to the chameleon,

Change shapes with Protheus for advantages, And set the murderous Machiavel to school.

Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?

Tut, were it farther off, I’ll pluck it down. Exit

SCENE III.

France. The KING’S palace

 

Flourish. Enter LEWIS the French King, his sister BONA, his Admiral call’d BOURBON; PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN MARGARET, and the EARL of OXFORD. LEWIS sits, and riseth up again LEWIS. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret, Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.

QUEEN MARGARET. 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 my title down And with dishonour laid me on the ground, Where I must take like seat unto my fortune, And to my humble seat conform myself.

LEWIS. Why, say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?

QUEEN MARGARET. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears And stops my tongue, while heart is drown’d in cares.

LEWIS. Whate’er it be, be thou still like thyself, And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him] Yield not thy neck To fortune’s yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.

Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief; It shall be eas’d, if France can yield relief.

QUEEN MARGARET. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.

Now therefore be it known to noble Lewis That Henry, sole possessor of my love, Is, of a king, become a banish’d 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 misled, Our treasure seiz’d, our soldiers put to flight, And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.

LEWIS. Renowned Queen, with patience calm the storm, While we bethink a means to break it off.

QUEEN MARGARET. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.

LEWIS. The more I stay, the more I’ll succour thee.

QUEEN MARGARET. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.

And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!

 

Enter WARWICK

 

LEWIS. What’s he approacheth boldly to our presence?

QUEEN MARGARET. Our Earl of Warwick, Edward’s greatest friend.

LEWIS. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?

[He descends. She ariseth]

QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise; For this is he that moves both wind and tide.

WARWICK. 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 virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister, To England’s King in lawful marriage.

QUEEN MARGARET. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry’s hope is done.

WARWICK. [To BONA] And, gracious madam, 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 ent’ring at his heedful ears, Hath plac’d thy beauty’s image and thy virtue.

QUEEN MARGARET. 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 safely govern home Unless abroad they purchase 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 sway the rule a while Yet heav’ns are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

WARWICK. Injurious Margaret!

PRINCE OF WALES. And why not Queen?

WARWICK. Because thy father Henry did usurp; And thou no more art prince than she is queen.

OXFORD. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt, Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain; And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth, Whose 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.

WARWICK. 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 silly time To make prescription for a kingdom’s worth.

OXFORD. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege, Whom thou obeyed’st thirty and six years, And not betray thy treason with a blush?

WARWICK. Can Oxford that did ever fence the right Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?

For shame! Leave Henry, and call Edward king.

OXFORD. 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 downfall 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.

WARWICK. And I the house of York.

LEWIS. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford, Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside While I use further conference with Warwick.

[They stand aloof]

QUEEN MARGARET. Heavens grant that Warwick’s words bewitch him not!

LEWIS. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience, Is Edward your true king? for I were loath To link with him that were not lawful chosen.

WARWICK. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.

LEWIS. But is he gracious in the people’s eye?

WARWICK. The more that Henry was unfortunate.

LEWIS. Then further: all dissembling set aside, Tell me for truth the measure of his love Unto our sister Bona.

WARWICK. Such it seems

As may beseem a monarch like himself.

Myself have often heard him say and swear That this his love was an eternal plant Whereof the root was fix’d in virtue’s ground, The leaves and fruit maintain’d with beauty’s sun, Exempt from envy, but not from disdain, Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

LEWIS. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

BONA. Your grant or your denial shall be mine.

[To WARWICK] Yet I confess that often ere this day, When I have heard your king’s desert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.

LEWIS. Then, Warwick, thus: our 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 the English king.

PRINCE OF WALES. To Edward, but not to the English king.

QUEEN MARGARET. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device By this alliance to make void my suit.

Before