caster.

Marg. No matter- -he has marvellous good

skill

In making kings, and I have business for him.
Clif. And canst thou, then, forget the cruel

wrongs,

The deep-felt injuries of oppressive Warwick,
To join the hand, that forged thy husband's
chains,

And robbed thee of a crown?

Marg. But what—my Clifford,

If the same hand, that ravished, should restore
it!

'Tis a court friendship, and may last as long
As interest shall direct: I've not forgot,
No, nor forgiven; I hate, abhor, detest him;
But I will use him as my instrument,
My necessary tool; I will make him draw
His traitorous sword, to sheath it in the breast
Of him he loves, then point it to his own.
Yes, Clifford, I have twined me round his heart;
Like the fell serpent crept into his bosom,
That I might sting more surely: he shall perish;
I keep him for the last dear precious morsel,
To crown the glorious banquet of revenge.
Clif. 'Tis what he merits from us; yet the at-
tempt

Were dangerous; he is still the people's idol.
Marg. And so, perhaps, shall Margaret be;
applause

Waits on success; the fickle multitude,
Like the light straw, that floats along the stream,
Glide with the current still, and follow fortune.
Our prospect brightens every hour: the people
Are ripe for a revolt: by civil wars,
Long time inured to savage scenes of plunder
And desolation, they delight in war :

These English heroes, when once fleshed with
slaughter,

Like the keen mastiff, lose not soon the track
Of vengeance, nor forget the taste of blood.

Clif. What further succours have we to de-
pend on,

Beside earl Warwick's?

Marg. O, his name alone,
Will be an army to us.
Clif. If we have it:

Resentment is a short-lived passion-what
If Warwick should relent, and turn again
To Edward?

Marg. Then I have a bosom friend,
= That shall be ready to reward him for it."
But I have better hopes: without his aid,
We are not friendless: Scotland's hardy sons,
Who smile at danger, and defy the storm,
Will leave their barren mountains to defend
That liberty they love; add to the aid
Of gallant Pembroke, and the powers, which
France

Will send to vindicate her injured honour:
Ere Edward can collect his force and take

Clif. But what becomes of the young prince?
Marg. Aye; there

I am, indeed, unhappy! O my child!
How shall I set him free? hear, Nature, hear
A mother's prayer! O guide me with thy counsel,
And teach me how to save my darling boy!
Aye, now I have it: monitress divine,

I thank thee: yes; I wait but for the means
Of his escape, then fly this hated palace,
Nor will return till I can call it mine. [Exeunt.

Told her how much, how tenderly you loved her,
And pressed with eagerness to know the cause
Of her unkind refusal; till at length,
Reluctantly, with blushes, she confessed
There was a cause; she thanked you for your
goodness,

'Twas more, she said, much more than she deserved;

:

She ever should revere her king and if
She had a heart to give, it should be Edward's.
Edw. So kind, and yet so cruel! well, go on.
Suf. Then told ine all the story of her love,
That Warwick long had wooed her—that her
hand

Was promised; soon as he returned from France,
Though once her father cruelly opposed it,
They were, by his consent, to be united.

Edw. O never, Suffolk, may I live to see
That dreadful hour! designing hypocrite!
Are these his arts? is this the friend I loved?
By Heaven! she shall be mine; I will assert
A sovereign's right, and tear her from him; what
If he rebel? another civil war!

'Tis terrible! O that I could shake off
This cumbrous garb of majesty, that clings
So close around me, meet him man to man,
And try who best deserves her! but, when kings
Grow mad, their guiltless subjects pay the for-
feit.

Horrible thought! good Suffolk, for a while
I would be private; therefore wait without;
Let me have no intruders; above all,

Keep Warwick from my sight. [Exit Suffolk.

Enter WARWICK.

Warw. Behold him here;

No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask
My lord of Suffolk's leave; there was a time,
When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain
Admission here.

Edw. There was a time, perhaps, When Warwick more desired, and more ved it.

| On England's throne? thy undistinguished name
Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang,
And mouldered in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore,
| And stamped it with a diadem. Thou know'st
This wretched country, doomed, perhaps, like
Rome,

To fall by its own self-destroying hand,
Tost for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil discord, but for me had perished.
In that distressful hour I seized the helm,
Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and
steered

Your shattered vessel safe into the harbour.
You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid,
Which you no longer want; but know, proud
youth,

He, who forgets a friend, deserves a foe. Edw. Know, too, reproach, for benefits reces ved,

Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.

Warw. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty, A thrifty saving knowledge, when the debt Grows burthensome, and cannot be discharged, A spunge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing Edw. When you have counted o'er the nume

rous train

Too well I know thy breach of friendship there, Thy fruitless base endeavours to supplant me. Ewd. I scorn it, sir-Elizabeth hath charms, And I have equal right with you to admire them :

Nor see I aught so godlike in the form,

So all-commanding in the name of Warwick,
That he alone should revel in the charms
Of beauty, and monopolize perfection.
I knew not of your love.

Warw. By Heaven, 'tis false !

You knew it all, and meanly took occasion,
Whilst I was busied in the noble office,
Your grace thought fit to honour me withal,
To tamper with a weak unguarded woman,
To bribe her passions high, and basely steal
A treasure, which your kingdom could not pur-

chase.

Edw. How know you that? but be it as it

may,

I had a right, nor will I tamely yield
My claim to happiness, the privilege
To choose the partner of my throne and bed:
It is a branch of my prerogative.

Warw. Prerogative!-what's that? the boast
of tyrants:

A borrowed jewel, glittering in the crown
With specious lustre, lent but to betray.
You had it, sir, and hold it-from the people.
Ewd. And therefore do I prize it; I would
guard

Their liberties, and they shall strengthen mine:
But when proud faction and her rebel crew
Insult their sovereign, trample on his laws,
And bid defiance to his power, the people,
In justice to themselves, will then defend
His cause, and vindicate the rights they gave.
Warw. Go to your darling people, then; for

soon,

If I mistake not, 'twill be needful; try

Their boasted zeal, and see if one of them Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause, If I forbid them.

Edw. Is it so, my lord!

Then mark my words: I've been your slave too long,

And you have ruled me with a rod of iron;
But henceforth know, proud peer, I am thy

master,

And will be so: the king, who delegates His power to others' hands, but ill deserves The crown he wears.

Warw. Look well, then, to your own; It sits but loosely on your head; for know, The man, who injured Warwick, never passed Unpunished yet.

Edw. Nor he, who threatened EdwardYou may repent it, sir-my guards there-seize This traitor, and convey him to the tower! There let him learn obedience.

[Guards enter, seize WARWICK, and endeavour to disarm him.

Warw. Slaves, stand off!

If I must yield my sword, I'll give it him,
Whom it so long has served; there's not a part
In this old faithful steel, that is not stained
With English blood in grateful Edward's cause.
Give me my chains, they are the bands of friend-
ship,

Of a king's friendship; for his sake awhile
I'll wear them.

Edw. Hence! away with him

Warw. 'Tis well :

Enter the EARL OF SUFFOLK.

Suf. My liege, the duke of Clarence-
Edw. What of him?

Suf. Hath left the court; this moment I beheld him

In conference with Pembroke, who, it seems,
Is Margaret's firmest friend: 'tis whispered, both
Will join the queen.

Edw. Well: 'tis no matter; I
Have deeper cause for grief; he cannot feel
A brother's falsehood, who has lost a friend,
A friend like Warwick--Suffolk, thou behold'st me
Betrayed, deserted by the man I loved;
Treated with cold indifference by her,
Whom I adored; forsaken by my brother,
And threatened by the subjects I protect;
Oppressed on every side: but, thou shalt see,
I have a soul superior to misfortunes.
Though rebel Clarence wrings my tortured heart,

And faithless Warwick braves me, we will yet Maintain our right-Come on, my friend! thou know'st,

Without his boasted aid, I could have gained The crown; without him, now, I will preserve it.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The Tower.

Enter the EARL OF WARWICK.
Warw. MISTAKEN mortals plan delusive schemes
Of bliss, and call futurity their own,
Yet are not masters of a moment-This
Was the appointed time, the very day,
Which should have joined me to Elizabeth
In nuptial bonds. O cruel memory,

Do not torment me!-If there be a crime
Of deeper dye, than all the quilty train
Of human vices, 'tis ingratitude.
'Tis now two years since Henry lost the crown;
And here he is, even in this very prison,
A fellow captive now. Disgraceful thought!
How will he smile to meet his conqueror here!
O for that stoic apathy, which lulls
The drowsy soul to sweet forgetfulness!
But 'twill not be :-Elizabeth, where art thou?
Perhaps with Edward-Oh! that thought dis-

tracts me :

It is, I fear, as Margaret said; she's false.
But, when I look around me, can I hope
To find one virtue left in human kind?
My Pembroke, too! am I so soon forgotten?
O no; he comes-

Enter the EARL OF PEMBROKE,

Pemb, My friend!

Warw. My Pembroke, welcome! Thee I have found most just and kind; But, in the darkness of adversity,

The jewel, friendship, shines with double lustre.

Pemb. I am not of the insect train, that bask In fortune's sunshine, and when evening damps Arise, are seen no more: no, Warwick; what I speak, I mean: you have been hardly treated. Waru. Oh! Pembroke, didst thou know but

half the wrongs,

That I have suffered, thou wouldst pity me. Pemb. I would do more, much more, my Warwick: he,

Who only pities, but insults the wretched ;
I come with nobler views; I come to tell thee,
That I have felt thy injuries as my own,
And will revenge them too.

Warw. How kind thou art

To feel for Warwick!

Pemb. Every honest breast

Must feel the injuries, that a good man suffers :
Thine is the common cause of all: adieu
To English freedom, when our liberty
Shall be dependent on a sovereign's nod;
When years of honest service shall be paid
With infamy and chains!

To free her captive son.

Wara, Though I abhor,

I must admire that enterprising woman:
Her active mind is ever on the wing
In search of fresh expedients, to recover
The crown she lost.

Pemb. Already she has raised

A powerful army; all the secret foes
Of York's ambitious line rush forth in crowds,
And join her standard: ere to-morrow's sun
Shall dawn upon us, she will set thee free.

Warw. Oh! Pembroke, nothing wounds the
generous mind

So deep as obligations to a foe.

Is there no way to liberty, my friend,
But through the bloody paths of civil war?
Pemb. I fear there is not.

Warw. Then it must be so :

I could have wished--but freedom and revenge, On any terms, are welcome.

Pemb. Here, then, join we Our hands

Warw. Our hearts.

Pemb. Now, Warwick, be thou firm In thy resolves; let no unmanly fears, No foolish fond remembrance of past friendship Unnerve thy arm, or shake thy steady purpose. Warw. No; by my wrongs it shall not: anot thou know'st,

I loved him but too well, and this vile prison
Is my reward! O! give me but the use
Of this once powerful arm, and thou shalt see
How it shall punish falsehood.—Are thy forces
Prepared?

Pemb. They are, and wait but for my orders: Clarence will join us soon: our first great end Is to secure thy liberty; that done,

We haste to seize the palace, and redeem

The fair Elizabeth.

Warw. Redeem her, ha!

Is she a captive too?

Pemb. A willing slave;

A gay state prisoner, left to roam at large

O'er the young monarch's palace.
Warw. Aye, my Pembroke,

That's more inviting than a prison. Oh,

She's false, she's false !-Who sent her there?
Pemb. She came,

It seems, to thank him for his royal bounties
To her good father, the new earl of Rivers,
Who will, no doubt, persuade her to accept-
Warw. Of Edward's hand-distraction! fly,
my friend;

Haste thee to Margaret; tell her, if she hopes
For Warwick's aid, she must release him now,
Ere Edward's ill-timed mercy shall prevent her.
Pemb. I go: my friend, adieu! when next we
meet,

I hope to bring thee liberty.

Warw. Farewell.

[Exit.

Eliz. My Warwick!

Warw. 'Tis a grace I looked not for, That a fair favourite, who so late had tasted The pleasures of a court, should condescend To visit thus a poor abandoned captive.

Eliz. I come to take my portion of misfortune, To pour the balm of comfort in, and heal, If possible, the wounds, which I had made. Too well, I know, I was the fatal cause Of all thy sorrows---but the noble Edward, For so, indeed, he is

Warw. And art thou come,

To plead the cause of him, who sent me hither? Eliz. I came to be the messenger of peace, To calm thy troubled soul, and give thee rest, To teach my Warwick to forget his wrongs.

Warw. Forget my wrongs! was that thy errand here,

To teach me low submission to a tyrant?
To ask forgiveness, kneel, and deprecate
The wrath of blustering Edward? If thou com'st,
On terms like these, to bring me freedom, know
It will not be accepted: Now I see

Through all your arts; by Heaven! I'd rather lose

A thousand lives, than owe one to his bounty. Eliz. Either my Warwick is much changed, and so,

I fear, he is, or he would never talk
Thus coldly to me, never would despise
A life so precious, if he knew how much
Elizabeth had suffered to preserve it.
The gallant Edward, won by my entreaties-
Warw. Entreaties! didst thou, then, descend
so low,

As to entreat him for me?

Eliz. Hadst thou seen,

When I implored him to forgive my Warwick, How kind he looked, how his repenting heart Heaved with the pangs of agonizing friendship, Thou wouldst have pitied him.

Warw. Deceitful woman!

I see thy fasehood now; I am betrayed;
And thou art leagued with Edward to destroy me.
Go to your royal lover, and unite

Those only fit companions for each other,
A broken friendship, and a perjured love!
Give up discarded Warwick, and, to make
The compact firm, cement it with my
blood.
Eliz. I thought the soul of Warwick far above
Such mean suspicions. Shall the man, whose
truth,

Whose constancy, and love, have been so long
My bright example, shall he stoop so low,

As thus to listen to an idle tale,

Told by some prating courtier? if indeed
Thou couldst believe it, I should pity thee.
Warw. Where is your father, the new earl of
Rivers?

Why sends he not his forces to our aid?

Eliz. He cannot honour, gratitude, forbid, That he should lift up his rebellious arm Against his benefactor! well thou know'st, Of late, when civil discord reigned amongst us, He fought with Henry, and with Henry fell: When injured Edward generously forgave, Restored his forfeit lands, and late advanced him To rank and title.

Warw. Infamy and shame;

The common nets, which fearful knavery spreads To catch ambition's fools: mean sordid bribes. We know the treasure they were meant to purchase.

Eliz. Unkind suggestion! how have I deserved
it?

Have I for this refused a youthful monarch,
And spurned his offered sceptre at my feet,
To be reproached at last by cruel Warwick?