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Clar. As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt.
K. Edw. Ay, but I fear me, in another sense. What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get ? L. Grey. My love till death, my humble thanks, my
prayers; That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants.
K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. L. Grey. Why, then you mean not as I thought you
did. K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my mind.
L. Grey. My mind will never grant what I perceive Your bighness aims at, if I aim aright.
K. Edw. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
lands. L. Grey. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; For by that loss I will not purchase them.
K. Edw. Therein thou wrong’st thy children mightily. L. Grey. Herein your highness wrongs both them and
Byt, mighty lord, this merry inclination
Accords not with the sadness of my suit;
K. Edw. Ay; if thou wilt say ay, to my request :
L. Grey. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. Glo. The widow likes him not, she knits her brows.
[Aside. Clar. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.
[Aside. K. Edw. [Aside.] Her looks do argue her replete with
L. Grey. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord:
K. Edw. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee,
L. Grey. And that is more than I will yield unto :
K. Edw. You cavil, widow ; I did mean, my queen.
mother. Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children ; And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor,
Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing
[ Aside. Clar. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift.
[Aside. K. Edw. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have
had. Glo. The widow likes it not, for she looks sad. K. Edw. You'd think it strange if I should marry her. Clar. To whom, my lord ? K. Edw. Why, Clarence, to myself. Glo. That would be ten days' wonder, at the least. Clar. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. Glo. By so much is the wonder in extremes.
K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers : I can tell you both, Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.
Enter a Nobleman.
K. Edw. See, that he be convey'd unto the Tower :-
and Lord. Glo. Ay, Edward will use women honourably. 'Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all, That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, To cross me from the golden time I look for!
And yet, between my soul's desire and me,
The lustful Edward's title buried, Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, And all the unlook’d-for issue of their bodies, To take their rooms, ere I can place myself : A cold premeditation for my purpose ! Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty ; Like one that stands upon a promontory, And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye; And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, Saying-he'll lade it dry to have his way: So do I wish the crown, being so far off; And so I chide the means that keep me from it; And so I say—I'll cut the causes off ; Flattering me with impossibilities.My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, Unless my hand and strength could equal them. Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard ; 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,