King Edward the Third | Page 9

If thou speakst true, then have I my redress: Engage thy power to redeem my Joys, And I am joyful, Countess; else I die.
COUNTESS. I will, my Liege.
KING EDWARD. Swear, Countess, that thou wilt.
COUNTESS. By heaven, I will.
KING EDWARD. Then take thy self a little way a side, And tell thy self, a King doth dote on thee; Say that within thy power it doth lie To make him happy, and that thou hast sworn To give him all the Joy within thy power: Do this, and tell me when I shall be happy.
COUNTESS. All this is done, my thrice dread sovereign: That power of love, that I have power to give, Thou hast with all devout obedience; Employ me how thou wilt in proof thereof.
KING EDWARD. Thou hearst me say that I do dote on thee.
COUNTESS. If on my beauty, take it if thou canst; Though little, I do prize it ten times less; If on my virtue, take it if thou canst, For virtue's store by giving doth augment; Be it on what it will, that I can give And thou canst take away, inherit it.
KING EDWARD. It is thy beauty that I would enjoy.
COUNTESS. O, were it painted, I would wipe it off And dispossess my self, to give it thee. But, sovereign, it is soldered to my life: Take one and both; for, like an humble shadow, It haunts the sunshine of my summer's life.
KING EDWARD. But thou maist lend it me to sport with all.
COUNTESS. As easy may my intellectual soul Be lent away, and yet my body live, As lend my body, palace to my soul, Away from her, and yet retain my soul. My body is her bower, her Court, her abbey, And she an Angel, pure, divine, unspotted: If I should leave her house, my Lord, to thee, I kill my poor soul and my poor soul me.
KING EDWARD. Didst thou not swear to give me what I would?
COUNTESS. I did, my liege, so what you would I could.
KING EDWARD. I wish no more of thee than thou maist give:-- Nor beg I do not, but I rather buy-- That is, thy love; and for that love of thine In rich exchange I tender to thee mine.
COUNTESS. But that your lips were sacred, my Lord, You would profane the holy name of love. That love you offer me you cannot give, For Caesar owes that tribute to his Queen; That love you beg of me I cannot give, For Sara owes that duty to her Lord. He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp Shall die, my Lord; and will your sacred self Commit high treason against the King of heaven, To stamp his Image in forbidden metal, Forgetting your allegiance and your oath? In violating marriage sacred law, You break a greater honor than your self: To be a King is of a younger house Than to be married; your progenitour, Sole reigning Adam on the universe, By God was honored for a married man, But not by him anointed for a king. It is a penalty to break your statutes, Though not enacted with your highness' hand: How much more, to infringe the holy act, Made by the mouth of God, sealed with his hand? I know, my sovereign, in my husband's love, Who now doth loyal service in his wars, Doth but so try the wife of Salisbury, Whither she will hear a wanton's tale or no, Lest being therein guilty by my stay, >From that, not from my liege, I turn away.
[Exit.]
KING EDWARD. Whether is her beauty by her words dying, Or are her words sweet chaplains to her beauty? Like as the wind doth beautify a sail, And as a sail becomes the unseen wind, So do her words her beauties, beauties words. O, that I were a honey gathering bee, To bear the comb of virtue from this flower, And not a poison sucking envious spider, To turn the juice I take to deadly venom! Religion is austere and beauty gentle; Too strict a guardian for so fair a ward! O, that she were, as is the air, to me! Why, so she is, for when I would embrace her, This do I, and catch nothing but my self. I must enjoy her; for I cannot beat With reason and reproof fond love a way.
[Enter Warwick.]
Here comes her father: I will work with him, To bear my colours in this field of love.
WARWICK. How is it that my sovereign is so sad? May I with pardon know your highness grief; And that my old endeavor will remove it, It shall not cumber long your majesty.
KING EDWARD. A kind and voluntary gift thou proferest, That I was forward to have begged of thee. But, O thou world,