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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

Page 95

by William Shakespeare


  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  My lord and father, I have sought for you.

  My mother and the peers importune you

  To keep in presence of his majesty,

  And do your best to make his highness merry.

  EARL OF WARWICK (aside)

  How shall I enter in this graceless errand?

  I must not call her child, for where’s the father

  That will in such a suit seduce his child?

  Then ‘wife of Salisbury’—shall I so begin?

  No, he’s my friend, and where is found the friend

  That will do friendship such endamagement?

  (To the Countess) Neither my daughter, nor my dear friend’s wife,

  I am not Warwick, as thou think‘st I am,

  But an attorney from the court of hell,

  That thus have housed my spirit in his form

  To do a message to thee from the King:

  ‘The mighty King of England dotes on thee:

  He that hath power to take away thy life

  Hath power to take thy honour. Then consent

  To pawn thine honour rather than thy life;

  Honour is often lost and got again,

  But life, once gone, hath no recovery.

  The sun that withers hay doth nourish grass,

  The King that would distain thee, will advance thee.

  The poets write that great Achilles’ spear

  Could heal the wound it made; the moral is,

  What mighty men misdo they can amend.

  The lion doth become his bloody jaws

  And grace his foragement by being mild

  When vassal fear lies trembling at his feet.

  The King will, in his glory, hide thy shame,

  And those that gaze on him, to find out thee,

  Will lose their eyesight looking in the sun.

  What can one drop of poison harm the sea

  Whose hugy vastures can digest the ill

  And make it lose his operation?

  The King’s great name will temper thy misdeeds,

  And give the bitter potion of reproach

  A sugared, sweet and most delicious taste.

  Besides, it is no harm to do the thing

  Which, without shame, could not be left undone.’

  Thus have I, in his majesty’s behalf,

  Apparelled sin in virtuous sentences,

  And dwell upon thy answer in his suit.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  Unnatural besiege! Woe me unhappy,

  To have escaped the danger of my foes

  And to be ten times worse envir‘ned by friends!

  Hath he no means to stain my honest blood

  But to corrupt the author of my blood

  To be his scandalous and vile solicitor?

  No marvel though the branch be then infected,

  When poison hath encompassed the root;

  No marvel though the leprous infant die,

  When the stern dame envenometh the dug.

  Why then, give sin a passport to offend,

  And youth the dangerous rein of liberty.

  Blot out the strict forbidding of the law,

  And cancel every canon that prescribes

  A shame for shame, or penance for offence.

  No, let me die if his too boist’rous will

  Will have it so, before I will consent

  To be an actor in his graceless lust.

  EARL OF WARWICK

  Why, now thou speak‘st as I would have thee speak!

  And mark how I unsay my words again:

  An honourable grave is more esteemed

  Than the polluted closet of a king.

  The greater man, the greater is the thing,

  Be it good or bad, that he shall undertake.

  An unreputed mote flying in the sun

  Presents a greater substance than it is.

  The freshest summer’s day doth soonest taint

  The loathed carrion that it seems to kiss.

  Deep are the blows made with a mighty axe.

  That sin doth ten times aggravate itself

  That is committed in a holy place.

  An evil deed done by authority

  Is sin and subornation. Deck an ape

  In tissue, and the beauty of the robe

  Adds but the greater scorn unto the beast.

  A spacious field of reasons could I urge

  Between his glory, daughter, and thy shame:

  That poison shows worst in a golden cup;

  Dark night seems darker by the lightning flash;

  Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds;

  And every glory that inclines to sin,

  The shame is treble by the opposite.

  So leave I with my blessing in thy bosom,

  Which then convert to a most heavy curse

  When thou convert’st from honour’s golden name

  To the black faction of bed-blotting shame.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  I’ll follow thee, and when my mind turns so,

  My body sink my soul in endless woe. Exeunt

  Sc. 3 Enter at one door the Earl of Derby from France. At another door, enter Lord Audley with a drummer

  EARL OF DERBY

  Thrice-noble Audley, well encountered here.

  How is it with our sovereign and his peers?

  AUDLEY

  ‘Tis full a fortnight since I saw his highness,

  What time he sent me forth to muster men,

  Which I accordingly have done, and bring them hither,

  In fair array, before his majesty.

  What news, my lord of Derby, from the Emperor?

  EARL OF DERBY

  As good as we desire. The Emperor

  Hath yielded to his highness friendly aid,

  And makes our king lieutenant-general

  In all his lands and large dominions.

  Then via for the spacious bounds of France!

  AUDLEY

  What, doth his highness leap to hear these news?

  EARL OF DERBY

  I have not yet found time to open them.

  The King is in his closet, malcontent.

  For what I know not, but he gave in charge

  Till after dinner none should interrupt him.

  The Countess Salisbury and her father Warwick,

  Artois, and all, look underneath the brows.

  AUDLEY

  Undoubtedly, then, something is amiss.

  Sound trumpets within

  EARL OF DERBY

  The trumpets sound. The King is now abroad.

  Enter King Edward

  COMTE D’ARTOIS Here comes his highness.

  EARL OF DERBY (to the King)

  Befall my sovereign all my sovereign’s wish.

  KING EDWARD ⌈aside⌉

  Ah, that thou wert a witch to make it so.

  EARL OF DERBY

  The Emperor greeteth you—

  KING EDWARD ⌈aside⌉ Would it were the Countess.

  EARL OF DERBY

  —And hath accorded to your highness’ suit.

  KING EDWARD ⌈aside⌉

  Thou liest. She hath not, but I would she had.

  AUDLEY

  All love and duty to my lord the King.

  KING EDWARD ⌈aside⌉

  Well, all but one is none. (To Audley) What news with you?

  AUDLEY

  I have, my liege, levied those horse and foot,

  According as your charge, and brought them hither.

  KING EDWARD

  Then let those foot trudge hence upon those horse,

  According to our discharge, and be gone.

  Derby, I’ll look upon the Countess’ mind anon.

  EARL OF DERBY The Countess’ mind, my liege?

  KING EDWARD

  I mean the Emperor. Leave me alone.

  AUDLEY (to Derby)

  What is his mind?

  EARL OF DERBY Let’s leave h
im to his humour.

  Exeunt Derby and Audley

  KING EDWARD

  Thus from the heart’s abundance speaks the tongue:

  ‘Countess’ for ‘Emperor’—and indeed why not?

  She is as imperator over me, and I to her

  Am as a kneeling vassal that observes

  The pleasure or displeasure of her eye.

  Enter Lodowick

  (To Lodowick) What says the more-than-Cleopatra’s

  match

  To Caesar now?

  LODOWICK That yet, my liege, ere night

  She will resolve your majesty.

  Sound drum within

  KING EDWARD

  What drum is this that thunders forth this march

  To start the tender Cupid in my bosom?

  Poor sheepskin, how it brawls with him that beateth it!

  Go, break the thund’ring parchment-bottom out

  And I will teach it to conduct sweet lines

  Unto the bosom of a heavenly nymph;

  For I will use it as my writing paper,

  And so reduce him from a scolding drum

  To be the herald, and dear counsel-bearer,

  Betwixt a goddess and a mighty king.

  Go, bid the drummer learn to touch the lute,

  Or hang him in the braces of his drum;

  For now we think it an uncivil thing

  To trouble heaven with such harsh resounds. Away!

  Exit Lodowick

  The quarrel that I have requires no arms

  But these of mine, and these shall meet my foe

  In a deep march of penetrable groans.

  My eyes shall be my arrows, and my sighs

  Shall serve me as the vantage of the wind

  To whirl away my sweet’st artillery.

  Ah, but alas, she wins the sun of me,

  For that is she herself, and thence it comes

  That poets term the wanton warrior blind.

  But love hath eyes as judgement to his steps,

  Till too much loved glory dazzles them—

  Enter Lodowick

  How now?

  LODOWICK

  My liege, the drum that struck the lusty march

  Stands with Prince Edward, your thrice-valiant son.

  ⌈Exit⌉

  Enter Edward, Prince of Wales

  KING EDWARD

  I see the boy. ⌈Aside⌉ O, how his mother’s face,

  Modelled in his, corrects my strayed desire,

  And rates my heart, and chides my thievish eye,

  Who, being rich enough in seeing her,

  Yet seek elsewhere; and basest theft is that

  Which cannot cloak itself in poverty.

  (To the Prince) Now, boy, what news?

  PRINCE OF WALES

  I have assembled, my dear lord and father,

  The choicest buds of all our English blood

  For our affairs to France, and here we come

  To take direction from your majesty.

  KING EDWARD (aside)

  Still do I see in him delineate

  His mother’s visage. Those his eyes are hers,

  Who looking wistly on me make me blush.

  For faults against themselves give evidence;

  Lust is a fire, and men, like lanterns, show

  Light lust within themselves, even through themselves.

  Away, loose silks o’er wavering vanity!

  Shall the large limit of fair Brittany

  By me be overthrown, and shall I not

  Master this little mansion of myself?

  Give me an armour of eternal steel:

  I go to conquer kings; and shall I not then

  Subdue myself and be my enemy’s friend?

  It must not be. (To the Prince) Come, boy! Forward!

  Advance!

  Let’s with our colours sweet the air of France.

  Enter Lodowick

  LODOWICK (to the King)

  My liege, the Countess, with a smiling cheer,

  Desires access unto your majesty.

  KING EDWARD (aside)

  Why there it goes. That very smile of hers

  Hath ransomed captive France and set the King,

  The Dauphin and the peers at liberty.

  (To the Prince) Go, leave me, Ned, and revel with thy friends.

  Exit the Prince of Wales

  (Aside) Thy mother is but black, and thou, like her,

  Dost put it in my mind how foul she is.

  (To Lodowick) Go, fetch the Countess hither in thy hand—

  Exit Lodowick

  And let her chase away these winter clouds,

  For she gives beauty both to heaven and earth.

  The sin is more to hack and hew poor men

  Than to embrace in an unlawful bed

  The register of all rarieties

  Since leathern Adam till this youngest hour.

  Enter Lodowick ⌈leading in by the hand⌉ the Countess of Salisbury

  Go, Lod’wick, put thy hand into my purse—

  Play, spend, give, riot, waste, do what thou wilt

  So thou wilt hence awhile and leave me here.

  Exit Lodowick

  (To the Countess) Now, my soul’s playfellow, art thou come

  To speak the more-than-heavenly word of ‘yea’

  To my objection in thy beauteous love?

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  My father on his blessing hath commanded—

  KING EDWARD

  That thou shalt yield to me.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  Ay, dear my liege, your due.

  KING EDWARD

  And that, my dearest love, can be no less

  Than right for right, and render love for love.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  Than wrong for wrong, and endless hate for hate.

  But sith I see your majesty so bent

  That my unwillingness, my husband’s love,

  Your high estate, nor no respect respected

  Can be my help, but that your mightiness

  Will overbear and awe these dear regards,

  I bind my discontent to thy content,

  And what I would not ill compel I will,

  Provided that yourself remove those lets

  That stand between your highness’ love and mine.

  KING EDWARD

  Name them, fair Countess, and by heaven I will.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  It is their lives that stand between our love

  That I would have choked up, my sovereign.

  KING EDWARD

  Whose lives, my lady?

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY My thrice-loving liege,

  Your Queen and Salisbury, my wedded husband,

  Who, living, have that title in our love

  That we cannot bestow but by their death.

  KING EDWARD

  Their opposition is beyond our law.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  So is your desire. If the law

  Can hinder you to execute the one,

  Let it forbid you to attempt the other.

  I cannot think you love me as you say

  Unless you do make good what you have sworn.

  KING EDWARD

  No more. Thy husband and the Queen shall die.

  Fairer thou art by far than Hero was;

  Beardless Leander not so strong as I.

  He swam an easy current for his love,

  But I will through a Hellespont of blood

  To arrive at Sestos, where my Hero lies.

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  Nay, you’ll do more. You’ll make the river too

  With their heart bloods that keep our love asunder,

  Of which my husband and your wife are twain.

  KING EDWARD

  Thy beauty makes them guilty of their death,

  And gives in evidence that they shall die—

  Upon which verdict I, their judge, condemn them.


  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  O, perjured beauty! More corrupted judge!

  When to the great star chamber o‘er our heads

  The universal sessions calls to ’count

  This packing evil, we both shall tremble for it.

  KING EDWARD

  What says my fair love? Is she resolute?

  COUNTESS OF SALISBURY

  Resolved to be dissolved, and therefore this:

  Keep but thy word, great King, and I am thine.

  Stand where thou dost—I’ll part a little from thee—

  She moves away from the King

  ⌈kneeling⌉ And see how I will yield me to thy hands.

  Here, by my side, doth hang my wedding knives.

  She reveals two knives

  Take thou the one,

  She offers a knife to the King

  and with it kill thy Queen,

  And learn by me to find her where she lies;

  And with this other

  She turns the other knife on herself

  I’ll dispatch my love,

  Which now lies fast asleep within my heart.

  When they are gone, then I’ll consent to love.

  Stir not, lascivious King, to hinder me.

  My resolution is more nimbler far

  Than thy prevention can be in my rescue.

  An if thou stir, I strike. Therefore stand still,

  And hear the choice that I will put thee to.

  Either swear to leave thy most unholy suit

  And never henceforth to solicit me,

  Or else, by heaven, this sharp-pointed knife

  Shall stain thy earth with that which thou wouldst stain—

  My poor, chaste blood. Swear, Edward, swear,

  Or I will strike and die before thee here.

  KING EDWARD

  Even by that power I swear, that gives me now

  The power to be ashamed of myself,

  I never mean to part my lips again

  In any words that tends to such a suit.

  Arise, true English lady, whom our isle

  May better boast of than ever Roman might

  Of her, whose ransacked treasury hath tasked

  The vain endeavour of so many pens.

  Arise, and be my fault thy honour’s fame

  Which after-ages shall enrich thee with.

  I am awakèd from this idle dream.

  ⌈The Countess stands⌉

  (Calling) Warwick, my son, Derby, Artois and Audley—

  Brave warriors all, where are you all this while?

  Enter all the peers: the Earl of Warwick, the

 

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