Pemb. My lord of Suffolk, speak But for yourself; Warwick has too much cause Whate'er you courtiers think, the best support Buck. It becomes But ill the Earl of Pembroke King E. Good my lords, Let us have no dissensions here; we met [The Council breaks up, and disperses. King E. [Coming up to WARWICK.] Lord Warwick, keep In narrower bounds, that proud impetuous temper;— When time befits, we shall impart them to you; Warw. So "Tis well-'tis very well-I have descrv'd it; Ha! who's here? The captive queen! if she has aught to ask [Exit. Of me, she comes in luckless hour, for I Am pow'rless now. Enter MARGARET OF ANJOU. Warw. Will Margaret of Anjou, Marg. Whose name was-Edward; look As if the idol made by your own hands, Had fall'n upon, and crush'd you-is't not so ? Warw. Amazement! naught escapes thy piercing eye, And penetrating judgment: 'tis too true; I am a poor, disgrac'd, dishonour'd slave, Not worth thy seeking; leave me; for the tide Of court preferment flows another way. Marg. The feast, perhaps, you have provided, suits not With Edward's nicer palate; he disdains, How sweet soe'er, to taste a foreign banquet, Warw. Sure, thou deal'st With some all-knowing spirit, who imparts Each secret purpose to thee, else, how knew'st thou That Edward had refus'd to wed the princess?.. Marg. O, it requires no supernatural aid I could have told you this long since; for know, And, but for your return, as unexpected, I am return'd. Marg. Indeed, my lord, you came Warw. Margret, I thank thee-yes, it must be so; Marg. Wherefore? Is it so strange, a mind, unfraught with wisdom, Should follow pleasure, through the crooked paths Warw. No; but was it like a friend- Marg. Hold, hold, my lord, Be not too rash; who fights in darkness, oft Marg. But as fame reports, Of peerless beauty, and transcendent charms, D Warw. Of me? What virtues? Whose? Marg. Elizabeth's. Warw. Amazement? no, it must not, cannot be ! Elizabeth! he could not, dare not do it! Confusion! I shall soon discover all ! But what have I to do with Edward's choice, Whoe'er she be, if he refuses mine? [Aside. Marg. Dissimulation sits but ill, my lord, On minds like yours. I am a poor weak woman, And so, it seems, you think me; but suppose That same all-knowing spirit which you rais'd, Who condescends so kindly to instruct me, Should whisper-Warwick knows the pow'r of love, As well as Edward, that Elizabeth Was his first wish, the idol of his soul; What say you? Might I venture to believe it? Warw. Margret, you might; for, 'tis in vain to hide A thought from thee; it might have told you too, On earth as Warwick: give me but the proof Marg. Lord Suffolk was last night despatch'd to Grafton, To offer her a share in Edward's throne. Warw. Which she refus'd, did she not, Margret? say She did. Marg. I know not that, my lord, but crowns Have virtue to resist. Warw. Elizabeth Has ev'ry virtue. I'll not doubt her faith. Think'st thou, he knew my fond attachment there? urg'd 2 How deeply 'twould affect you, swore by Heav'n, Beyond his hope to wish for, or aspire to. Warw. But for that Warwick, Edward's self had been A subject still-and may be so hereafter.- When I behold a subtle statesman thus His country and himself.-It was, indeed, One should have thought, the reach of years so green As Edward's, to despatch the weeping lover, Of tamp'ring with his mistress here at home. Warw. Did Nevil, Rutland, Clifford, bleed for this? Are baubles, fit for children like himself, |