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to France ? [He defcends. She arifeth.
War. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
Queen. If that go forward, Henry's hope is done!
[Speaking te Bona.
Queen, King Lewis, and Lady Bona, hear me speak, Before you answer Warrvick, His demand difturbid the text here, I cannot smother an ingenious conjecture of my friend's on this pallage.- How does impatience wait mowe parsicas
lurly on true forrow? On the contrary, those forrows, such as ti.is Queen's, which came gradually, by a long course of misfortunes,
are generally less impatient than that of those, who, having been “ unacquainted with misfortunes, fall into sudden miseries, Perhaps, w the true reading might be;
0, but impatience, waiting, rues to-morrow :
And see, wbere comes the breeder of my sorrow. “ j. e. When impatience waits and follicits for redress, there is no.
thin the so much dreads as being put off" till to-morrow ; (a pro“ verb al expression for procrastination) and a very proper reply to the
King. Besides, a rhyme is hereby added, in which custom the
poet so much delighted; and a sentiment is convey'd truly worthy ~ of him,"
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
him tyrant this reason fuffice,
War. Injurious Margaret !
War. Because thy father Henry did usurp,
Oxf. Then Warwick disanuls great John of Gaunt,
War. Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse, You cold not, how Henry the fixth hath lost All that which Henry the fifth hath gotten ? Methinks, these Peers of France should smile at that. But, for the rest ; you tell a pedigree Of threescore and two years, a filly time To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.
Oxf. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy Liege,
War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Oxf. Call him my King, by whose injurious doom
No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
War. And I the house of York.
K. Lew. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford, Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside, While I use farther conference with Warwick. Queen. Heav'ns grant, that Warwick’s words bewitch him not!
[T bey fand aloof K. Lev. Now, Warwick, tell me even upon thy conIs Edward your true King ? for I were loth [science, To link with him, that were not lawful chosen.
War. Thereon / pawn my credit and mine honour.
K. Lew. Then further; all dissembling fet afide,
War. Such it feenis,
envy, but not from disdain, Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
K. Lew. Now, fifter, let us hear your firm resolve.
Bona. Your grant, or your denial, hall be mine. Yet I confess, that often ere this day,
[Speaks to War. When I have heard your King's desert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.
K.Lew. Then, Warwick, this: our sister Mall 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 Nsargaret, and be a witness, That Buna shall be wife to th’ English King,
Prince. To Edward, but not to the English King.
Queen. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device
K. Lew. And still is friend to him and Margaret;
War. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Queen. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace!
[Post, blozving a horn within. For both of you are birds of self- same feather. K. Lew. Warwick, this is some poit to us, or thee.
Enter a Poft. Poft. My Lord Ambassador, these letters are for you ;
[To Warwick. Sent from your brother, Marquis Montague. These from our King unto your Majesty. [T. K. Lew. And, Madam, these for you; from whom I know not.
[To the Queen. They all read their letters. Oxf. I like it well, that our fair Queen and mistress Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.
Prince. Nay, mark, how Lewis stamps as he were nettled. I hope, all's for the best.
[Queen ? K. Lew. Warwick, what are thy news? and yours,
fair Queen. Mine fuch, as fills my heart with unhop'd joys. War. Mine full of sorrow and heart's discontent.
K. Lew. What! has your King marry'd the Lady Gray? And now, to sooth your forgery and his, Sends me a paper to persuade me patience ? Is this th' alliance, that he feeks with France ? Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner ?