men, Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle; And, as occasion serves, this noble queen And prince shall follow with a fresh supply. Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt, What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty? This shall assure my constant loyalty, That if our queen and this young prince agree, I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion. Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous, Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick; And, with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable, That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it; And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand. Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied, And thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral, Shalt waft them over with our royal fleet. I long till Edward fall by war's mischance, For mocking marriage with a dame of France. I came from Edward as ambassador, But I return his sworn and mortal foe: Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me, But dreadful war shall answer his demand. Had he none else to make a stale but me? Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow. I was the chief that raised him to the crown, And I'll be chief to bring him down again: Not that I pity Henry's misery, But seek revenge on Edward's mockery. Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey? Hath not our brother made a worthy choice? Alas, you know, 'tis far from hence to France; How could he stay till Warwick made return? My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the king. And his well-chosen bride. I mind to tell him plainly what I think. Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice, That you stand pensive, as half malcontent? As well as Lewis of France, or the Earl of Warwick, Which are so weak of courage and in judgment That they'll take no offence at our abuse. Suppose they take offence without a cause, They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward, Your king and Warwick's, and must have my will. And shall have your will, because our king: Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well. Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too? Not I: No, God forbid that I should wish them sever'd Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 'twere pity To sunder them that yoke so well