SCENE I. The Tower.

Enter WARWICK.

War. 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 join'd me to Elizabeth
In nuptial bonds :-O cruel memory,
Do not torment me-if there be a crime
Of deeper die than all the guilty train
Of human vices, 'tis ingratitude.

"Tis now two years since Henry lost the crown,
And here he is, ev'u in this very prison

A fellow captive now: disgraceful thought!
How will he smile to meet his conqu'ror 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-O that thought distracts me:

It is, I fear, as Marg❜ret said; she's false.
But when I look on these, can I expect
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.

Pem. My friend!

War. My Pembroke, welcome :

Thee I have ever found most just and kind;
But, in the darkness of adversity

The jewel friendship shines with double lustre.
Pem. I am not of the insect train that bask
In fortune's sunshine, and when ev'ning damps
Arise, are seen no more: no, Warwick, what
I speak, I mean: you have been hardly treated.
War. O! Pembroke, didst thou know but half the
wrongs

That I have suffer'd, thou wouldst pity me.

Pem. 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 inj'ries as my own, And will revenge them too.

War. How kind thou art

To feel for Warwick!

Pem. Ev'ry honest breast

Must feel the inj'ries that a good man suffers:
Thine is the common cause of all: adieu

To English freedom, when our liberty
Shall be dependent on a sov'reign's nod,
When years of honest servive shall be paid
With infamy and chains.

War. I've not deserv'd them.

Pem. Nor shalt thou wear them long: for thou hast

great

And pow'rful friends-the noble duke of ClarenceBehold his signet-this, my Warwick, gain'd me Admission here- -we must be secret.

War. Then I am not forsaken: Clarence!-Ha!
Pem. Yes:

The gallant youth, with honest zeal, declar'd
He lov'd his brother much, but justice more.

War. Then, Edward, I defy thee: gen'rous Clarence! Thou know'st, the man who thus could treat a friend, Would soon forget a brother-but say, Pembroke, How stands the duke of Buckingham?

Pem. Fast bound

To Edward; he and that smooth courtier, Suffolk,
Are the two rotten pillars that support
His tott'ring throne: but Marg’ret--

War. Ay: how fares

My new ally? has she escaped the tyrant?

Pem. She has: and by some wondrous means contriv'd To free her captive son.

War. 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.

Pem. Aready she has rais'd

A pow'rful army; all the secret foes

Of York's ambitious line rush forth in crowds,
And join her standard: e'er to-morrow's sun

Shall dawn upon us, she will set thee free.

War. O! Pembroke, nothing wounds the gen'rous mind

So deep as obligations to a foe.

Is there no way to liberty, my friend,

But through the bloody paths of civil war?

Pem. I fear there is not.

War. Then it must be so:

I could have wish'd-but freedom and revenge

On any terins are welcome.

Pem. Here then join we

Our hands

War. Our hearts.

Pem. 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.

War. No: by my wrongs it shall not: once, thon
know'st,

I lov'd him but too well, and these vile chains
Are my reward.-O give me but the use

Of this once pow'rful arm, and thou shalt see
How it shall punish falsehood.-Are thy forces
Prepar❜d?

Pem. 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.

War. Redeem her, ba!
Is she a captive too?

Pem. A willing slave;

A gay state pris'ner, left to roam at large
O'er the young monarch's palace.
War. Ay, my Pembroke,

That's more inviting than a prison :-O
She's false, she's false-who sent her there?
Pem. 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-
War. Of Edward's hand-distraction! fly, my friend,
Haste thee to Margret, tell her if she hopes
For Warwick's aid, she must release him now,
Ere Edward's ill-tim'd mercy shall prevent her.
Pem. I go; my friend, adieu! when next we meet,
I hope to bring thee liberty.

War. Farewell.

[Exit.

She's lost: she's gone: that base seducer, Edward,
Hath wrought on her weak mind, it must be so.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, the lady Elizabeth.

War. Amazement! sure

It cannot be! admit her, sir-why, what [Exit Mess.
Could bring her here? Edward has sent her hither,
To see if I will crouch to him for pardon;
Be still, my jealous heart.

Enter ELIZABETH.

Eliz. My Warwick!

War. "Tis a grace I look'd not for,
That a fair fav'rite, who so late had tasted
The pleasures of a court, should condescend
To visit thus a poor abandon'd 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-

War. 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.

War. 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 blust'ring 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 heav'n, I'd rather lose
A thousand lives, than owe one to his bounty.

Eliz. Either my Warwick is much chang'd, 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 suffer'd to preserve it.

The gallant Edward, won by my entreaties

War. Entreaties! didst thou then descend so low, As to entreat him for me?