Admission here.

Edw. There was a time, perhaps,

When Warwick more desir'd and more- -deserv'd

it.

War. Never; I've been a foolish, faithful slave; All my best years, the morning of my life, Hath been devoted to your service: what Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy! My spotless name, which never yet the breath Of calumny had tainted, made the mock For foreign fools to carp at: but 'tis fit

Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded. Edw. I thought, my lord, I had full well repay'd

Your services with honours, wealth, and pow'r
Unlimited; thy all-directing hand
Guided in secret ev'ry latent wheel

Of government, and mov'd the whole machine :
Warwick was all in all, and pow'rless Edward
Stood like a cypher in the great account.

War. Who gave that cypher worth, and seated

thee

On England's throne? Thy undistinguish'd name
Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang,
And moulder'd in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore
And stamp'd it with a diadem. Thou know'st
This wretched country, doom'd, perhaps, like
Rome,

and steer'd

To fall by its own self-destroying hand
Tost for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil discord, but for me had perish'd.
In that distressful hour I seiz'd the helm,
Bade the rough waves subside in peace,
Your shatter'd vessel safe into the harbour.
You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid
Which you no longer want; but know, proud
youth!

He who forgets a friend, deserves a foe.

Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits receiv'd Pays ev'ry debt, and cancels obligation.

War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty, A thrifty saving knowledge: when the debt, Grows burthensome an i cannot be discharg'd, A sponge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing. Edw. When you have counted o'er the num❜rous

train

Of mighty gifts your bounty lavish'd on me,
You may remember next the injuries,

Which I have done you : let me know them all,
And I will make you ample satisfaction.
War. Thou canst not; thou hast rob'd me of a
jewel

It is not in thy power to restore :

I was the first, shall future annals say,
That broke the sacred bond of public trust
~And mutual confidence ; ambassadors,
In after-times, mere instruments, perhaps,
Of venal statesmen shall recal my name
To witness, that they want not an example,
And plead my guilt, to sanctify their own.
Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves

That haunt your court, could none be found but
Warwick

To be the shameless herald of a lie?

Edw. And would'st thou turn the vile reproach
on me ?

If I have broke my faith, and stain'd the name
Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels
That urged me to it, and extorted from me
A cold consent to what my heart abhor'd.
War. I have been abus'd, insulted, and be
tray'd;

My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance
Her wounds will never close!

Edw. These gusts of passion

Will but inflame them: if I have been right Inform'd my lord, besides these dangerous scars Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds As deep, tho' not so fatal: such perhaps

As none but fair Elizabeth can cure.

War. Elizabeth!

Edw. Nay, start not; I have cause

To wonder most: I little thought, indeed,
When Warwick fold me I might learn to love,
He was himself so able to instruct me:

War. And so have I;

Too well I know thy breach of friendship there, Thy fruitless base endeavours to supplant me.

Edw. I scorn it, Sir,-Elizabeth hath charms, And I have equal right with you to admire them; Nor see I aught so godlike in the form,

So all commanding in the name of Warwick,
That he alone should revel in the charms
Of beauty, and monopolize perfection.
I knew not of your love.

War. By Heav'n 'tis false !

You knew it all, and meanly took occasion,
Whilst I was busy'd in the noble office
Your grace thought fit to honour me withal,
To tamper with a weak unguarded woman
To bribe her passions high, and basely steal
A treasure which your kingdom could not pur◄
chase.

Edw. How know you that? But be it as it may, I had a right; nor will I tamely yield

My claim to happiness, the privilege

To choose the partner of my throne and bed;
It is a branch of my prerogative.

War. Prerogative! what's that? the boast of
tyrants;

A borrow'd jewel, glitt'ring in the crown
With specious lustre, lent but to betray:
You had it, Sir, and hold it—from the people.
Edw. And therefore do I prize it; I would
guard

Their liberties, and they shall strengthen mine;
But when proud Faction and her rebel crew
Insult their sov'reign, trample on his laws,
And bid defiance to his pow'r, the people,
In justice to themselves, will then defend
His cause, and vindicate the rights they gave.

War. Go to your darling people, then; for soon, If I mistake not, 'twill be needful; try

Their boasted zeal, and see if one of them
Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause,
If I forbid them.

Edw. Is it so my lord?

Then mark my words: I've been your slave tool long,

And you have rul'd me with a rod of iron;
But henceforth know, proud peer, I am thy master,
And will be so: the king who delegates

His pow'r to other's hands, but ill deservs
The crown he wears.

War. Look well then to your own;

It sits but loosely on your head; for know,
The man who injur'd Warwick never pass'd
Unpunish'd yet.

Edw. Nor he who threaten'd Edward

You may repent it, Sir,my guards there-sieze
This traitor, and convey him to the Tow'r;
There let him learn obedience.

EARL OF WARWICE.

CHAP. XII

Orlando and Adam.

Orla.
W no's there?

Adam. What, my young master? Oh, my gentle master,

Oh, my sweet master, Oh you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what makes you here?
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and va-
liant?

Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bony priser of the humorous Duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you,
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?

No more do your's: your virtues, gentle master

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it!

Orla. Why what's the matter!

Adam. Q unhappy youth,

Come not within these doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:

Your brother- (no; no brother; yet the son
Yet not the son; I will not call him son
Of him I was about to call his father,)
Hath heard your praises, and this night he means.
To burn the lodging where you us'd to lie,
And you within it if he fail of that,

He will have other means to cut you off;
I overheard him, and his practices:

This is no palace; this house is but a butchery;
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither Adam wouldst thou have me go?

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here..

Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?

Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce
A thievish living on the common road?
This must I do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
I rather will subject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.
Adam. But do not so; I have five hundred
crowns,

The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown:
Take that; and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! here is the gold;
All this I give you, let me be your servant:
Tho' I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ;
For in my youth I never did apply