ARKCODEX
Act III, Scene 2
1London. The palace.
2Enter King Edward, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady Grey.
3King EdwardBrother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban’s field
This lady’s husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,
His lands then seized 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.
4GloucesterYour highness shall do well to grant her suit;
It were dishonour to deny it her.
5King EdwardIt were no less; but yet I’ll make a pause.
6GloucesterAside to Clarence. Yea, is it so?
I see the lady hath a thing to grant,
Before the king will grant her humble suit.
7ClarenceAside to Gloucester. He knows the game: how true he keeps the wind!
8GloucesterAside to Clarence. Silence!
9King EdwardWidow, we will consider of your suit;
And come some other time to know our mind.
10Lady GreyRight gracious lord, I cannot brook delay:
May it please your highness to resolve me now;
And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me.
11GloucesterAside to Clarence. Ay, widow? then I’ll warrant you all your lands,
An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.
Fight closer, or, good faith, you’ll catch a blow.
12ClarenceAside to Gloucester. I fear her not, unless she chance to fall.
13GloucesterAside to Clarence. God forbid that! for he’ll take vantages.
14King EdwardHow many children hast thou, widow? tell me.
15ClarenceAside to Gloucester. I think he means to beg a child of her.
16GloucesterAside to Clarence. Nay, whip me then: he’ll rather give her two.
17Lady GreyThree, my most gracious lord.
18GloucesterAside to Clarence. You shall have four, if you’ll be ruled by him.
19King Edward’Twere pity they should lose their father’s lands.
20Lady GreyBe pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.
21King EdwardLords, give us leave: I’ll try this widow’s wit.
22GloucesterAside to Clarence. Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave,
Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. Gloucester and Clarence retire.
23King EdwardNow tell me, madam, do you love your children?
24Lady GreyAy, full as dearly as I love myself.
25King EdwardAnd would you not do much to do them good?
26Lady GreyTo do them good, I would sustain some harm.
27King EdwardThen get your husband’s lands, to do them good.
28Lady GreyTherefore I came unto your majesty.
29King EdwardI’ll tell you how these lands are to be got.
30Lady GreySo shall you bind me to your highness’ service.
31King EdwardWhat service wilt thou do me, if I give them?
32Lady GreyWhat you command, that rests in me to do.
33King EdwardBut you will take exceptions to my boon.
34Lady GreyNo, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.
35King EdwardAy, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
36Lady GreyWhy, then I will do what your grace commands.
37GloucesterAside to Clarence. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.
38ClarenceAside to Gloucester. As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt.
39Lady GreyWhy stops my lord, shall I not hear my task?
40King EdwardAn easy task; ’tis but to love a king.
41Lady GreyThat’s soon perform’d, because I am a subject.
42King EdwardWhy, then, thy husband’s lands I freely give thee.
43Lady GreyI take my leave with many thousand thanks.
44GloucesterAside to Clarence. The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.
45King EdwardBut stay thee, ’tis the fruits of love I mean.
46Lady GreyThe fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.
47King EdwardAy, but, I fear me, in another sense.
What love, think’st thou, I sue so much to get?
48Lady GreyMy love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;
That love which virtue begs and virtue grants.
49King EdwardNo, by my troth, I did not mean such love.
50Lady GreyWhy, then you mean not as I thought you did.
51King EdwardBut now you partly may perceive my mind.
52Lady GreyMy mind will never grant what I perceive
Your highness aims at, if I aim aright.
53King EdwardTo tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
54Lady GreyTo tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.
55King EdwardWhy, then thou shalt not have thy husband’s lands.
56Lady GreyWhy, then mine honesty shall be my dower;
For by that loss I will not purchase them.
57King EdwardTherein thou wrong’st thy children mightily.
58Lady GreyHerein 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.”
59King EdwardAy, if thou wilt say “ay” to my request;
No, if thou dost say “no” to my demand.
60Lady GreyThen, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.
61GloucesterAside to Clarence. The widow likes him not, she knits her brows.
62ClarenceAside to Gloucester. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.
63King EdwardAside. Her looks do argue her replete with modesty;
Her words do show her wit incomparable;
All her perfections challenge sovereignty:
One way or other, she is for a king;
And she shall be my love, or else my queen.—
Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?
64Lady Grey’Tis better said than done, my gracious lord:
I am a subject fit to jest withal,
But far unfit to be a sovereign.
65King EdwardSweet 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.
66Lady GreyAnd 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.
67King EdwardYou cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen.
68Lady Grey’Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father.
69King EdwardNo more than when my daughters call thee 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.
70GloucesterAside to Clarence. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.
71ClarenceAside to Gloucester. When he was made a shriver, ’twas for shift.
72King EdwardBrothers, you muse what chat we two have had.
73GloucesterThe widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.
74King EdwardYou’ll think it strange if I should marry her.
75ClarenceTo whom, my lord?
76King EdwardWhy, Clarence, to myself.
77GloucesterThat would be ten days’ wonder at the least.
78ClarenceThat’s a day longer than a wonder lasts.
79GloucesterBy so much is the wonder in extremes.
80King EdwardWell, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both
Her suit is granted for her husband’s lands.
81Enter a Nobleman.
82NoblemanMy gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken,
And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
83King EdwardSee 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.
84GloucesterAy, 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 me—
The 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 beloved?
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, to account this world but hell,
Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears 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 rends 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 slyly than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add colours to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Proteus 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.