A Chase in the North of England. |
| |
Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands. |
| First Keep. Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; |
| For through this laund anon the deer will come; |
| And in this covert will we make our stand, |
| Culling the principal of all the deer. |
| Sec. Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. |
| First Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow |
| Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. |
| Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: |
| And, for the time shall not seem tedious, |
| I'll tell thee what befell me on a day |
| In this self place where now we mean to stand. |
| Sec. Keep. Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. |
| |
Enter KING HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book. |
| K. Hen. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, |
| To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. |
| No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; |
| Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, |
| Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: |
| No bending knee will call thee Cæsar now, |
| No humble suitors press to speak for right, |
| No, not a man comes for redress of thee; |
| For how can I help them, and not myself? |
| First Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: |
| This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. |
| K. Hen. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, |
| For wise men say it is the wisest course. |
| Sec. Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. |
| First Keep. Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. |
| K. Hen. My queen and son are gone to France for aid; |
| And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick |
| Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister |
| To wife for Edward. If this news be true, |
| Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; |
| For Warwick is a subtle orator, |
| And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. |
| By this account then Margaret may win him, |
| For she's a woman to be pitied much: |
| Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; |
| Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; |
| The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; |
| And Nero will be tainted with remorse, |
| To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. |
| Ay, but she's come to beg; Warwick, to give: |
| She on his left side craving aid for Henry; |
| He on his right asking a wife for Edward. |
| She weeps, and says her Henry is depos'd; |
| He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; |
| That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more: |
| Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, |
| Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, |
| And in conclusion wins the king from her, |
| With promise of his sister, and what else, |
| To strengthen and support King Edward's place. |
| O Margaret! thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, |
| Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn. |
| Sec. Keep. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings and queens? |
| K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was born to: |
| A man at least, for less I should not be; |
| And men may talk of kings, and why not I? |
| Sec. Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. |
| K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. |
| Sec. Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? |
| K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head; |
| Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, |
| Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd content; |
| A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. |
| Sec. Keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, |
| Your crown content and you must be contented |
| To go along with us; for, as we think, |
| You are the king King Edward hath depos'd; |
| And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance, |
| Will apprehend you as his enemy. |
| K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an oath? |
| Sec. Keep. No, never such an oath; nor will not now. |
| K. Hen. Where did you dwell when I was King of England? |
| Sec. Keep. Here in this country, where we now remain. |
| K. Hen. I was anointed king at nine months old; |
| My father and my grandfather were kings, |
| And you were sworn true subjects unto me: |
| And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? |
| First Keep. No; |
| For we were subjects but while you were king. |
| K. Hen. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? |
| Ah! simple men, you know not what you swear. |
| Look, as I blow this feather from my face, |
| And as the air blows it to me again, |
| Obeying with my wind when I do blow, |
| And yielding to another when it blows, |
| Commanded always by the greater gust; |
| Such is the lightness of you common men. |
| But do not break your oaths; for of that sin |
| My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. |
| Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; |
| And be you kings: command, and I'll obey. |
| First Keep. We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. |
| K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry, |
| If he were seated as King Edward is. |
| First Keep. We charge you, in God's name, and in the king's, |
| To go with us unto the officers. |
| K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: |
| And what God will, that let your king perform; |
| And what he will, I humbly yield unto. [Exeunt. |
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