Anne. With all my Heart, and much it joys me too, To fee you are become fo penitent.

Treffel and Barkley, go along with me.

Glo. Bid me farewel.

Anne. 'Tis more than you deferve:

But fince you teach me how to flatter you,

Imagine I have faid farewel already. [Exeunt two with Anne.

Gent. Towards Chertsey, Noble Lord?

Glo. Now to White-Friars, there attend my coming.

Was ever Woman in this humour woo'd?

Was ever Woman in this humour won?

I'll have her

[Exit Coarfe.

but I will not keep her long.

What! I that kill'd her Husband, and his Father!
To take her in her Heart's extreameft hate,

With Curfes in her Mouth, Tears in her Eyes,

The bleeding witness of my hatred by,

Having God, her Conscience, and these Bars against me,
And I no Friends to back my fuit withal,

But the plain Devil and diffembling Looks:
And yet to win her All the World to nothing!
Ha!

Hath the forgot already that brave Prince,

Edward, her Lord, whom I, fome three Months fince,
Stab'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?

A fweeter and a lovelier Gentleman,
Fram'd in the prodigality of Nature,

Young, Valiant, Wife, and, no doubt, right Royal,
The fpacious World cannot again afford:
And will the thus abafe her Eyes on me,

That cropt the Golden prime of this fweet Prince,
And made her Widow to a woful Bed?

On me, whofe All not equals Edward's Moiety?
On me, that halts, and am mifhapen thus?
My Dukedom to a beggarly Denier,
I do miftake my Perfon all this while:
Upon my Life fhe finds, although I cannot,
My felf to be a marv'ious proper Man.
I'll be at charges for a Looking glass,
And entertain a fcore or two of Tailors,
To ftudy Fashions to adorn my Body:

Since I am crept in favour of my felf,

I will maintain it with fome little Coft.

But first I'll turn yon Fellow in his Grave,
And then return lamenting to my Love.

Shine out, fair Sun, 'till I have bought a Glass,
That I may fee my Shadow as I pass.

Enter the Queen, Lord Rivers, and Lord Gray.

[Exit.

Riv. Have patience, Madam, there is no doubt, his Majefty Will foon recover his accuftom'd Health.

Gray. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse,
Therefore for God's fake entertain good Comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry Eyes.
Queen. If he were dead, what would betide on me?
Gray. No other harm, but lofs of fuch a Lord.
Queen. The lofs of fuch a Lord includes all harms.
Gray. The Heavens have bleft you with a goodly Son
To be your Comforter when he is gone.

Queen. Ah! he is young, and his Minority
Is put unto the truft of Richard Glofter,
A Man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Rim. Is it concluded, he fhall be Protector?
Queen. It is determin'd, not concluded yet:
But fo it must be, if the King miscarry.

Enter Buckingham and Derby.

Gray. Here comes the Lords of Buckingham and Derby. Buck. Good time of Day unto your Royal Grace. Derby. God make your Majefty joyful, as you have been. Queen. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby, To your good Prayer will fcarcely fay, Amen; Yet Derby, notwithstanding fhe's your Wife, And loves not me, be you, good Lord, affur'd, I hate not you for her proud Arrogance. Derby. I do befeech you, either not believe The envious Slanders of her falfe Accufers: Or if the be accus'd on true report, Bear with her weakness; which I think proceeds

From

From wayward Sickness, and no grounded Malice.
Queen. Saw you the King to Day, my Lord of Derby?
Derby. But now, the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from vifiting his Majefty.

Queen. What likelihood of his Amendment, Lords?
Buck. Madam, good hope, his Grace fpeaks chearfully.
Queen. God grant him Health; did you confer with him?
Buck, Ay, Madam, he defires to make Atonement,
Between the Duke of Glofter and your Brothers,
And between them and my Lord Chamberlain ;
And fent to warn them to his Royal Prefence.

Queen. Would all were well-but that will never be.... I fear our Happiness is at the height.

Enter Gloucester.

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it,
Who is it that complains unto the King,

That I, forfooth, am ftern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That fill his Ears with fuch diffentious Rumors.
Because I cannot flatter, and look fair,
Smile in Mens Faces, fmooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods, and Apith Courtefie,
I must be held a rancorous Enemy.

Cannot a plain Man live and think no harm,
But thus his fimple Truth must be abus'd
With filken, fly, infinuating Jacks?

Gray. To whom in all this prefence speaks your Grace?
Glo. To thee, that haft not Honesty nor Grace:
When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your Faction?
A Plague upon you all. His Royal Grace,
Whom God preferve, better than you would wish,
Cannot be quiet fcarce a breathing while,

But you must trouble him with lewd Complaints.
Queen. Brother of Glofter, you mistake the Matter:
The King on his own Royal Difpofition,

And not provok'd by any Suitor elfe,
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
Tht in your outward Action fhews it felf
Against my Children, Brothers, and my Self,
Makes him to fend, that he may learn the ground.

Glo.

Glo. I cannot tell the World is grown fo bad,

That Wrens make prey, where Eagles dare not perch.
Since every Jack became a Gentleman,

There's many a gentle Perfon made a Jack.

[Glofter, Queen. Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother

You envy my Advancement, and my Friends:

God grant we never may have need of you.

Glo. Mean time God grants that I have need of you. Our Brother is imprifon'd by your means,

My felf disgrac'd, and the Nobility

Held in Contempt, while great Promotions
Are daily given to enoble those,

That scarce, fome two Days fince, were worth a Noble.
Queen. By him that rais'd me to this careful height,
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,

I never did incenfe his Majefty

Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest Advocate to plead for him.
My Lord, you do me fhameful Injury,
Falfely to draw me in thefe vile Sufpects.

Glo. You may deny, that you were not the mean
Of my Lord Haftings late Imprifonment.

She

Riv. She may, my Lord, for

Glo. She may, Lord Rivers, why who knows not fo? may do more, Sir, than denying that:

She may help you to many fair Preferments,

And then deny her aiding Hand therein,
And lay thofe Honours on your high desert.

What may the not? fhe mayay marry may she-.-
Riv. What marry may she?

Glo. What marry may fhe? marry with a King,
A Batchelor, and a handfom Stripling too:

I wis your Grandam had a worfer match.

Queen. My Lord of Glofter, I have too long born
Your blunt Upbraidings, and your bitter Scoffs:
By Heav'n I will acquaint his Majesty,
Of thofe grofs taunts, that oft I have endur'd.
I had rather be a Country Servant Maid
Than a great Queen with this Condition,
To be fo baited, fcorn'd, and ftormed at;
Small joy have I in being England's Queen.
VOL. IV.

H

1

Enter

Enter Queen Margaret.

Q. Mar. And leffen'd be that fmall, God I befeech him: Thy Honour, State and Seat, is due to me.

Glo. What! threat you me with telling of the King? I will avouch't in prefence of the King:

I dare adventure to be fent to th' Tower. 'Tis time to fpeak,

My Pains are quite forgot.

Q. Mar. Out Devil!

I do remember them too well:

Thou kill'dft my Husband Henry in the Tower,
And Edward, my poor Son, at Tewksbury.

Glo. E'er you were Queen,
Ay, or your Husband King,

I was a pack-Horfe in his great Affairs;
A weeder out of his proud Adverfaries,
A liberal Rewarder of his Friends;
To Royalize his Blood I fpent mine own.
Q. Mar. Ay, and much better Blood
Than his or thine.

Glo. In all which time, you and your Husband Gray
Were factious for the House of Lancaster ;
And Rivers, fo were you; was not your Husband,
In Margaret's Battel, at Saint Albans flain?
Let me put in your Minds, if you forget,
What you have been e'er this, and what you are;
Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

Q. Mar. A murth'rous Villain, and fo ftill thou art.
Glo. Poor Clarence did forfake his Father Warwick,
Ay, and forfwore himself, which Jefu pardon-
Q. Mar. Which God revenge.

Glo. To fight on Edward's party for the Crown,
And for his meed, poor Lord, he is mewed up:

I would to God my Heart were Flint, like Edward's,
Or Edward's foft and pitiful, like mine;

I am too childish foolish for this World.

Q. Mar. Hie thee to Hell for fhame, and leave this World, Thou Cacodæmon, there thy Kingdom is.

Riv. My Lord of Glo'fter, in those bufie Days,
Which here you urge, to prove us Enemies,
We follow'd then our Lord, our Sovereign King;
So fhould we you, if you fhould be our King.

Glo.