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The storm is gath'ring on thee, and will burst
With tenfold vengeance on thy guilty head.

King E. I am not to be talk'd into submission, Nor dread the menace of a clam'rous woman.

Marg. Thou may'st have cause to dread a woman's pow'r.

The time may come-mark my prophetic word—
When wayward beauty shall repay, with scorn,
Thy fruitless vows, and vindicate my wrongs:
The friend thou lean'st on, like a broken reed,
Shall pierce thy side, and fill thy soul with anguish,
Keen as the pangs I feel: York's perjur'd house
Shall sink to rise no more; and Lancaster,
With added lustre, reassume the throne.

Hear this, and tremble-give me back my son-
Or dread the vengeance of a desp'rate mother. [Exit.
King E. Imperious woman! but the voice of woe
Is ever clam'rous: 'tis the privilege,

The charter of affliction, to complain.-
This tardy Suffolk! how I long to know,
Yet dread to hear, my fate! Elizabeth,
On thee the colour of my future life

Depends! for thou alone canst make me bless'd,
Or curs'd, for ever!--O! this cruel doubt
Is worse than all my tortures;-but he comes,
Th' ambassador of love!

Enter the EARL OF SUFFOLK.

What news, my Suffolk ?

Shall I be happy ?-O! I'm on the rack
Of expectation-Didst thou tell my tale
As if it were thy own-and may I hope---
Suf. My royal liege--

King E. Good Suffolk, lay aside

The forms of dull respect; he brief, and tell me— Speak, hast thou seen her?-Will she be my queen?

Quick! tell me ev'ry circumstance—each word,

Each look, each gesture:-Didst thou mark them, Suffolk?

Suf. I did; and will recount it all.—Last night,
By your command, in secret I repair'd
To Grafton's tufted bow'r, the happy seat
Of innocence and beauty; there I found
Thy soul's best hope, the fair Elizabeth:
Neer did these eyes behold such sweet perfection:
I found her busy'd in the pious office
Of filial duty, tending her sick father.

King E. That was a lucky moment to prefer
My humble suit: touch but the tender string
Of soft compassion in the heart, and love
Will quickly vibrate to its kindred passion.
You urg'd our royal purpose, then?

Suf. I did,

With all the warmth of friendship; dwelt with plea

sure

On ev'ry princely virtue that adorns

Your noble heart: she listen'd with attention,
And echo'd back your praises.

King E. Was not that

A kind propitious omen?

Suf. Such, indeed,

Hoping to find it, I call'd in the pow'rs

Of flattery to my aid, and gaz'd upon her,

As if confounded by her dazzling beauties:-
Conscious she smil'd; but when, at length, I spake
Of England's monarch sighing at her feet,
The crimson glow of modesty o'erspread
Her cheek, and gave new lustre to her charms :
She turn'd aside; and as she silent bow'd
Her doubtful thanks, I mark'd the pearly tear
Steal down its secret track; and from her breast
Heard a deep sigh, she struggled to conceal.
If I have any judgment, or can trace
The hidden feelings of a woman's heart,
Her's is already fix'd: I fear, my liege,

With all that England, all that thou couldst give,
The crown would sit but heavy on her brow.

King E. Not heavier, Suffolk, than it sits on mine:

My throne is irksome to me; who would wish
To be a sov'reign, when Elizabeth

Prefers a subject?-Then th' impetuous Warwick—
His awful virtue shall chastise my weakness.
I've promis'd Lewis to espouse his daughter,
To strengthen our alliance: would to Heaven
I had not! If I seek this coy refuser,

And break with France, Warwick will take th' alarm;
If once offended, he's inexorable.

Suf. I know him well.--Believe me, sir, the high And haughty spirit, when it meets rebuke, Is easiest check'd, and sinks into submission. Let him, my liege, who ventures to arraign His master's conduct, look into his own: There ever is a corner in the heart Open to folly; Warwick is not free From human frailties.

King E. No; ambition fires

His noble breast; love triumphs over mine:
But well thou know'st I dread his keen reproach.
We seldom pity woes we ne'er experienc'd,
Or pardon weakness which we do not feel:
He is a hero.

Suf. Heroes are but men ;

I have some cause to think so-but of that
We'll talk another time: meanwhile, my liege,
I think Lord Warwick is a useful friend.

King E. Ay, and a dangerous foe; the people love, To adoration love him: if he falls

From his allegiance, crowds will follow him.
England has long been rent by civil broils,
And fain would rest her in the arms of peace;
Her wounds scarce clos'd, shall Edward open them,
And bid them bleed afresh? believe me, Suffolk,

I would not be the cause of new divisions

Amongst my people, for a thousand kingdoms.

Suf. Tis nobly said, and may thy grateful subjects Revere thy virtues, and reward thy love!

King E. O, Suffolk! did they know but half the

cares

That wait on royalty, they would not grudge
Their wretched master a few private hours
Of social happiness.-If France consents,
I am undone; and Warwick hath, ere this,
Enslav'd me; curse on this state policy,
That binds us thus to love at second hand!
Who knows but he may link me to a wretch;
Wed me to folly, ignorance, and pride,
Illnature, sickness, or deformity;

And, when I'm chain'd to misery, coldly tell me,
To sooth my griefs, 'twas for the public good.
Suf. How far you have commission'd him, I know
not;

But were I worthy to advise, my liege,

I would not be the dupe of his ambition,
But follow Nature's dictates, and be happy.
England has charms besides Elizabeth's,
And beauties that-

King E. No more; my heart is fix'd
On her alone; find out this pow'rful rival,
I charge thee, Suffolk: yet why wish to find,
What found, will make me wretched? were he bound
In cords of tenderest friendship round my heart,
Dearer than Warwick, dearer than thyself,
Forgive me, but I fear I should abhor him.
O! think on something that may yet be done,
To win her to my heart ere Warwick comes.
Suf. I hear he is expected every hour.

King E. Grant, Heaven! some friendly wind may yet retard him.—

I dread his presence here.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. My liege, the Earl

Of Warwick is arriv'd.

King E. Ha! when ?-How?—Where ? Would he were bury'd in the rapid waves

That brought him hither! Comes he here to night? Mess. My liege, ere now he might have reach'd the palace,

But that the shouting multitudes press hard,

On ev'ry side, and seem to worship him.

[Exit.

King E. What's to be done? I cannot, must not, see him,

Till all is fix'd once more, my best lov'd Suffolk,
Try the soft arts of thy persuasive tongue:

What method canst thou think on, to evade
This promis'd marriage with ambitious France?
Suf. Summon your council-lay your thoughts

before them:

Meet Warwick there, and urge a sov'reign's right,
To please himself in that which should concern
Himself alone. Firm Buckingham and I

Will plead your cause against the haughty Warwick;
Whom I would treat with cold civility,

And distant state, which ever angers more
Resentful spirits, than the warmth of passion.
King E. 'Tis well advis'd: mean time, if possible,
I will compose my troubled thoughts to rest.
Suffolk, adieu: if Warwick asks for me,
I am not well-I'm hunting in the forest-
I'm busy-stay-remember what I told you,
Touching the earldom which I meant to give
Her father; that may bring her to the court;
You understand me, Suffolk-fare thee well.-
[Exit SUFFOLK,

Why should I dread to see the man I love-
The man I rev'rence?-Warwick is not chang'd,

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