 | The Earl of Warwick |  |
SCENE IV.
EDWARD, Earl of SUFFOLK.EDWARD.
What news, my Suffolk?
Shall I be happy? O! I'm on the rack
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As if it were thy own, and may I hope—
SUFFOLK.
My royal liege.
EDWARD.
Good Suffolk, lay aside
The forms of dull respect, be 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?
SUFFOLK.
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,
Ne'er did these eyes behold such sweet perfection:
I found her busy'd in the pious office
Of filial duty, tending her sick father.
EDWARD.
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?
SUFFOLK.
I did,
With all the warmth of friendship, dwelt with pleasure
On ev'ry princely virtue that adorns
Your noble heart; she listen'd with attention,
And echo'd back your praises.
EDWARD.
Was not that
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SUFFOLK.
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 dazling beauties—
Conscious she smil'd; but when, at length, I spake
Of England's monarch sighing at her feet—
The blush of virgin modesty o'erspread
Her cheek, and gave new lustre to her charms:
She turned 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 coud'st give,
The crown wou'd fit but heavy on her brow.
EDWARD.
Not heavier, Suffolk, than it fits on mine:
My throne is irksome to me; who wou'd wish
To be a sov'reign, when Elizabeth
Prefers a subject?—Then th'impetuous Warwick,
His awful virtue will chastise my weakness.
I dread his censure, dread his keen reproaches,
And dread them more because they will be just.
I've promis'd Lewis to espouse his daughter,
To strengthen our alliance: wou'd to heav'n
I had not! If I seek this coy refuser,
And break with France, Warwick will take th'alarm;
If once offended, he's inexorable.
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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.
EDWARD.
No: ambition fires
His noble breast, love triumphs over mine:
But well thou know'st, our eyes are ever open
To other's faults, and shut against our own.
We seldom pity woes we ne'er experienc'd,
Or pardon weakness which we do not feel:
He is a hero.
SUFFOLK.
Hero's are but men;
I have some cause to think so—but of that
We'll talk another time: mean while my liege,
I think lord Warwick is a useful friend.
EDWARD.
Aye, and a dangerous foe; the people love,
To adoration love him; if he falls
From his allegiance, crouds will follow him.
England has long been rent by civil broils,
And fain wou'd rest her in the arms of peace:
Her wounds scarce clos'd, shall Edward open them,
And bid them bleed a-fresh? believe me, Suffolk,
I wou'd not be the cause of new divisions
Amongst my people, for a thousand kingdoms.
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'Tis nobly said, and may thy grateful subjects,
Revere thy virtues, and reward thy love!
EDWARD.
O! Suffolk, did they know but half the cares
That wait on royalty, they wou'd not grudge
Their wretched master a few private hours
Of social happiness.—If France consents,
I am undone: and Warwick hath e'er 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,
Ill-nature, sickness, or deformity;
And when I'm chain'd to mis'ry, coldly tell me;
To sooth my griefs, 'twas for the public good.
SUFFOLK.
How far you have commission'd him, I know not,
But were I worthy to advise, my liege,
I wou'd not be the dupe of his ambition,
But follow natures dictates, and be happy.
England has charms besides Elizabeth's,
And beauties that—
EDWARD.
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 tend'rest friendship round my heart,
Dearer than Warwick, dearer than thyself,
Forgive me, but I fear I shou'd abhor him.
O think on something that may yet be done,
To win her to my heart e'er Warwick comes.
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I hear he is expected every hour.
EDWARD.
Grant heav'n some friendly storm may yet retard him!
I dread his presence here.
| The Earl of Warwick | |