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,

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260

I'll make my heaven-to dream upon the crown;
And, while I live, to account this world but hell, 270
Until my mis-shap'd 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,

280

Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.

Why, I can smile, and murder while 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 cameleon ;
Change shapes, with Proteus, for advantages,
And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school.

Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?

290

Tut! were it further off, I'll pluck it down. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Prince

France. Flourish. Enter LEWIS the French King, Lady BONA, BOURBON, Queen MARGARET, EDWARD her Son, and the Earl of OXFORD. LEWIS sits, and riseth up again.

K. Lewis. Fair queen of England, worthy Mar

garet,

Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state,

And

And birth, that thou shouldst stand, while Lewis doth

299

sit. 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 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.

K. Lewis. 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.

310

K. Lewis. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, And sit thee by our side: yield not thy neck

[Seats her by him. 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. Those gracious words revive my drooping

thoughts,

And give my tongue-ty'd 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;

Giij

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While

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 see'st, ourselves in heavy plight.
K. Lew. Renowned queen, with patience calm the
storm,

While we bethink a means to break it off.

330

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.

Enter WARWICK.

K. Lew. What's he, approacheth boldly to our presence? 840 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

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

3.59

With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant

That virtuous 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, in our king's behalf, [Speaking to Bona.

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 entering at his heedful ears,

Hath plac'd thy beauty's image, and thy virtue. 360
Queen. King Lewis - and lady Bona

speak,

Before you answer Warwick. His demand

hear me

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 mar

riage

370

Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour:

For though usurpers sway the rule a while,

Yet