man of worship too. Therefore, let's to it, even when

and where ye will.

King. Tanner, attend! Not only do we pardon thee,
But in all princely kindness welcome thee;

And thy son's trespass do we pardon too.
One go and see that forthwith it be drawn
Under our seal of England, as it ought.
And forty pounds we give thee, to defray
Thy charges in thy coming up to London.
Now, tanner, what say'st thou to us?

Hobs. Marry, you speak like an honest man, mean what you say.

if

you

King. We mean it, tanner, on our royal word.
Now, Master of St. Katharine's, what would you?
Master. My gracious lord, the great benevolence
(Though small to that your subjects could afford)
Of poor St. Katharine's do I bring your grace.
Five hundred pounds here have they sent by me,
For the easier portage, all in angel gold.
What this good widow, mistress Norton, will,
She comes herself, and brings her gift with her.

Widow. Pardon me, gracious lord! Presumption,
Nor overweening in mine own conceit,

Makes me thus bold to come before your grace;
But love and duty to your majesty,

And great desire to see my lord the King.
Our Master, here, spake of benevolence,
And said my twenty nobles was enough.

I thought not so; but at your highness' feet,

A widow's mite, a token of her zeal,

In humble duty, gives you twenty pound.

King. Now, by my crown, a gallant lusty girl! Of all the exhibition yet bestowed,

This woman's liberality likes me best.

Is thy name Norton?

Widow.

Ay, my gracious liege.

а

92

FIRST PART OF EDWARD IV.

ACT V.

King. How long hast thou been a widow?
Widow.

Since I did bury Wilkin, my good man,

It is, my lord,

At Shrovetide next, ev'n just a dozen years.

King. In all which space, could'st thou not find a man,
On whom thou might'st bestow thyself again?

Widow. Not any like my Wilkin, whose dear love
I know is matchless in respect of whom

I think not any worthy of a kiss.

King. No, widow? that I'll try. How like you this?

[Kisses her. Widow. Beshrew my heart, it was a honey kiss,

Able to make an aged woman young;

And for the same, most sweet and lovely prince,
See what the widow gives you from her store!
Forty old angels but for one kiss more.

King. Marry, widow, and thou shalt have it. John
Hobs, thou art a widower: lack'st thou such a wife!

Hobs. 'Snails! twenty pound a kiss! Had she as many twenty pound bags as I have knobs of bark in my tan-fat, she might kiss them away in a quarter of a year. I'll no Saint Katharine's widows, if kisses be so dear.

Widow. Clubs and clouted shoes! there's none enamoured here.

King. Lord Mayor, we thank you, and entreat withal
To recommend us to our citizens.

We must for France. We bid you all farewell.
Come, tanħer, thou shalt go with us to Court;
To-morrow you shall dine with my lord Mayor,
And afterward set homeward when ye please.
God and our right that only fights for us!
Adieu! pray that our toil prove prosperous.

[Exeunt omnes.

THE SECOND

PART OF KING EDWARD THE

FOURTH.

Containing

his iourney into France, for obtaining of his right there:

The trecherous falshood of the Duke of Burgundie and the Constable of France vsed against him, and his

returne home

againe.

Likewise the prosecution of the historie of M.
Shoare and his faire wife.

Concluding with the lamentable death of them

both.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

ENGLISH.

KING EDWARD THE FOURTH.

Lord HowARD.

Sir THOMAS SELLINGER.

Lord SCALES.

Marquis of Dorset.

Sir ROBERT BRACKENBURY.
Duke of CLARENCE.

Duke of GLOCESTER (afterwards K. R. III) The King's

}

Prince EDWARD. The King's Sons.
Prince RICHARD. S
Duke of BUCKINGHAM.
Captain STRANGUIDGE.

Lord LovELL.

CATESBY.

ST. PIERRE.

MUGEROUN.

FRENCH.

CHARLES, Duke of BURGUNDY.

Count ST. PAUL, Constable of FRANCE.
LORD of CONTÉ.

Messengers, Apparitors, Officers, &c.

Scene-FRANCE and ENGLAND.

THE SECOND PART

OF

KING EDWARD IV.

ACT I, SCENE I.

France.

Enter King EDWARD, HOWARD, SELLINGER, and
Soldiers, marching.

King. Is this the aid our cousin Burgundy
And the great Constable of France assur'd us?
Have we march'd thus far through the heart of France,

And with the terror of our English drums

Rous'd the poor trembling French, which leave their

towns,

That now the wolves affrighted from the fields
Do get their prey, and kennel in the streets?
Our thund'ring cannons, now this fortnight space,
Like common bellmen in some market town,
Have cried the Constable and Burgundy;
But yet I see they come not to our aid.
We'll bring them in; or, by the blessed light!
We'll search the ground-sills of their city's walls.
Since you have brought me hither, I will make
The proudest tower that stands in France to quake.

Szabored very

*