King E. O never, Suffolk, may I live to see
That dreadful hour! designing hypocrite!
Are these his arts? is this the friend I lov'd?
By Heaven, she shall be mine! I will shake off
This cumb'rous garb of majesty that clings
So close around me, meet him man to man,
And try who best deserves her!
Good Suffolk, for a while
I would be private-therefore, wait, without;
Let me have no intruders; above all,
Keep Warwick from my sight.-
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.
King E. There was a time, perhaps,
When Warwick more desir'd, and more-deserv'd it.
Warw. Never; I've been a foolish faithful slave;
All my best years, the morning of my life,
Hath been devoted to your service: what
Are now the fruits? disgrace and infamy.
My spotless name, which never yet the breath
Of calumny had tainted, made the mock
For foreign fools to carp at: but 'tis fit
Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded.
King E. I thought, my lord, I had full well re-
pay'd
Your services, with honours, wealth, and power
Unlimited thy all directing hand
Guided in secret ev'ry latent wheel
Of government, and mov'd the whole machine;
Warwick was all in all, and pow'rless Edward
Stood like a cypher in a great account.
Warw. Who gave that cypher worth, and seated
On England's throne? Thy undistinguish'd name
Had moulder'd in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore,
And stamp'd it with a diadem. Thou know'st
This wretched country, doom'd, 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 perish'd.
In that distressful hour I seiz'd the helm,
Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steer'd
Your shatter'd 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.
King E. Know, too, reproach, for benefits receiv'd
Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.
Warw. Why, that, indeed, is frugal honesty,
A thrifty, saving knowledge; when the debt
Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharg'd,
A spunge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing.
King E. When you have counted o'er the num'rous
train
Of mighty gifts your bounty lavish'd on me,
You may remember next the inj'ries
Which I have done you: let me know them all,
And I will make you ample satisfaction.
Warw. Thou canst not; thou hast robb'd me of a jewel
It is not in thy power to restore:
I was the first, shall future annals say,
That broke the sacred bond of public trust
And mutual confidence; ambassadors,
In after times, mere instruments, perhaps,
Of venal statesmen, shall recal my name
To witness, that they want not an example,
And plead my guilt, to sanctify their own.
Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves
That haunt your court, could none be found but Warwick,
To be the shameless herald of a lie?
King E. And wouldst thou turn the vile reproach
If I have broke my faith, and stain'd the name
Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels
That urg'd me to it, and extorted from me
A cold consent to what my heart abhorr❜d.
Warw. I've been abus'd, insulted, and betray'd;
My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance;
Her wounds will never close!
King E. Ob, fear it not!
If I have been right
Inform'd, my lord, besides these dang'rous scars
Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds
As deep, though not so fatal: such, perhaps,
As none but fair Elizabeth can cure.
King E. Nay, start not! I have cause
To wonder most: I little thought, indeed,
When Warwick told me, I might learn to love,
He was, himself, so able to instruct me;
But I've discover'd all.
Too well I know thy breach of friendship there,
Thy fruitless, base endeavours to supplant me.
King E. I scorn it, sir.-Elizabeth hath charms,
And I have equal right with you t'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 Heav'n, 'tis false!
You knew it all, and meanly took occasion,
Whilst I was busy'd in the noble office,
Your grace thought fit to honour me withal,.
To tamper with a weak, unguarded woman,
To bribe her passion high, and basely steal
A treasure, which your kingdom could not purchase. King E. 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 chuse the partner of my throne and bed:
It is a branch of my prerogative.
Warw. Prerogative!-what's that? the boast of
A borrow'd jewel, glitt'ring in the crown
With specious lustre, lent but to betray:
You had it, sir, and hold it, from the people,
King E. 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 sov'reign, 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.
King E. Is it so, my lord!
Then mark my words: I've been your slave too long, And you have rul'd 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 injur'd Warwick never pass'd
Unpunish'd yet.
King E. Nor he who threaten'd Edward
You may repent it, sir.-My guards, there!-seize
This traitor, and convey him to the Tower;
There let him learn obedience.
Enter GUARDS, who seize WARWICK, and endeavour to disarm him.
If I must yield my sword, I'll give it him,
Whom it so long has serv'd; there's not a part
In this old faithful steel, that is not stain'd
With English blood in grateful Edward's cause.
Give me my chains! they are the bands of friendship,
Of a king's friendship; for his sake, a while
I'll wear them.
King E. Hence! away with him!
Exert your power, it may not last you long;
For know, though Edward may forget his friend,
That England will not.-Now, sir, I attend you.
[Exit, Pemb. Presumptuous rebel!-ah! who's here?
Queen Margret, with the prince, her son, are fled;
In a few hours she hopes, for so we learn
From those who have pursu'd her, to be join'd
By th' Earl of Warwick; in his name, it seems,
She has already rais'd three thousand men.
King E. Warwick in league with her! O, Heav'n! 'tis well
We've crush'd the serpent, ere his poison spread Throughout our kingdom-guard the palace gates, Keep double watch; summon my troops togetherWhere is my brother Clarence, Buckingham,
And Pembroke? we must check this foul rebellion. [Exit MESSENGER.
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