Had I once listened to him; had these eyes
Been dazzled with the splendour of a court,
I need not thus have changed it for a dungeon.
But, since I am suspected, witness Heaven,
And witness Warwick to my vows! henceforth,
Dear as thou art, I cast thee from my love;
Elizabeth will never wed-a traitor.

Warw. Am I awake, and did Elizabeth
Say she would never wed her faithful Warwick?
Then bear me witness too, all-judging Heaven!
Here yield I up all visionary dreams
Of future bliss, of liberty, or life.

Even the sweet hope of vengeance, that alone
Sustained my spirit, loses all its charins;
I wished for freedom but to purchase thine:
For life, but to enjoy it with my love,
And she disclaims me.

Eliz. Heaven forbid! O Warwick,
Let not the tide of passion thus o'erwhelm
Thy reason.

Warw. Canst thou pardon me? thou know'st The unguarded warmth, the weakness of my na

ture.

I would not wrong thee, but I've been so oft, So cruelly deceived!

Eliz. I know thou hast; But never by Elizabeth.

Warw. O no!

It is impossible, that perfidy

Should wear a form like thine. [Looking at her.
I wonder not,

That Edward loved; no; when I look on thee,
All beauteous, all enchanting as thou art,
By Heaven! I think I could almost forgive him.
Eliz. Then, wherefore not be reconciled?
Warw. To whom?

The author of my wrongs? It cannot be :
Know, I have promised Margaret to destroy him.
Eliz. Destroy thy friend! ungenerous, cruel
Warwick!

Is't not enough, that thou hast triumphed here?
Already we have pierced his noble heart
With the keen pangs of disappointed love:
And would'st thou wound his breast with added

Warw. Stay, I charge thee.

Eliz. What is this phantom, Honour, this proed
idol,

That tramples thus on every humble virtue?
This cruel, bloody Moloch, that delights
In human sacrifice! O! would to Heaven
I were its only victim! but, with me,
You offer up your country and your king,
Warw. Think on my vow, think on my promise
given.

Eliz. Thy league with Margaret must be fatal:
grant

We should succeed, and Lancaster once more Assume the throne; how dear the victory, That's purchased with our fellow-subjects' blood Alas! such triumphs make the conqueror weep But if we fail!

Offi. Madam, the king demands your presence: I

Have orders to convey you to the palace.
Warw. And wilt thou leave me?
Eliz. This, my Warwick, this
Is the decisive moment; now determine,
Accept of mercy, ere it be too late;
Ere hasty Edward--Shall I say thou wilt
Return to thy obedience, and receive
Thy pardon? Shall I? Speak, my love.
Warw. Perhaps

I may accept it, if 'tis brought by thee.
Eliz. Then we shall meet in happiness--
Warw. Farewell!
[Erit Et
Warw. Now to those worst companions in at

fliction,

My own sad thoughts again; they're gloomy a
And, like my habitation, full of horror.
I like not Edward's message-if he hears
My league with Margaret, he still has power
To make me feel his rage: I have deserved -
[A trampling heard wathu'.
Methought I heard a noise-this way they come.
Perhaps it is the messenger of death-
Enter PEMBROKE.
Pemb. The messenger of vengeance—see her
sword;
Accept it, and be free.

Warw. First let me know,
To whom I am indebted for it.

Pemb. To me.

[Offers the m

Soon as the rumour of thy foul disgrace

Had reached the public ear, the impatient people, Uncertain of thy fate, tumultuous thronged Around the palace, and demanded thee; 'Give us our Warwick! give us back,' they cried, "Our hero, our deliverer!--I stepped forth, And bade them, instant, if they wished to save The best of men from infamy and death, To follow me: transported they obeyed: I led them hither: forced the prison gates, And brought thee this-direct it as thou wilt. [Gives the sword. Warw. Welcome, once more, thou dearest gift of Heaven,

Immortal liberty! my friend, I thank thee. O Pembroke, would thou hadst been here! my love,

My dear Elizabeth is true.

Pemb. At least

You think so.

Warw. She has told me such sweet truths! Edward repents him sorely, he is grieved At his ingratitude.

Pemb. And well he may;

I fear thou art betrayed: alas, my Warwick, Thy open, generous, unsuspecting virtue, Thinks every heart as honest as thy own. Thou know'st not Edward--nor Elizabeth. The kingdom is in arms, and every hour,

SCENE I.

Enter ELIZABETH.

| It is expected France will join the queen : England will want its great protector's aid. Edward and Rivers have conspired to cheat Thy credulous ear, and who so fit to spread The flimsy web as thy Elizabeth,

Their fair ambassadress? I see thou'rt caught.
Warw. By Heaven, it may be so! I am the
sport
Of fortune and of fraud.

Pemb. Away, my friend:

It is not now a time to think of her:
Margaret, supported by thy powerful name,
And joined by Clarence, waits us, at the head
Of fifteen thousand men, who, eager all
To crush a tyrant, and pull down oppression,
Attend thy wished-for presence; not a soldier
Will act or move, till Warwick shall direct them.
Edward and England's fate depend on thee.
Warw. Away, my friend, I'll follow thee.
[Exit Pembroke.

Yet stop

A moment-let not passion hurry me
To base dishonour--if my country calls
For Warwick's aid, shall I not hear her voice,
And save her? Pembroke may have private views,
And subtle Margaret too---Elizabeth!

I must not lose thee--O! direct me, Heaven!

Eliz. THE royal pardon came too late, and
Pembroke

Álready has released him; he is gone-
Elizabeth may never see him more.

A thousand terrors haunt me; a fond father,
A guiltless sovereign, a distracted lover,
Fame, fortune, friends, and country, all depend
On one eventful moment-hark! the sound
Of distant groans; perhaps the king-perhaps
My Warwick bleeds. O agonizing thought!
Great God of armies, whose all-guiding hand
Directs the fate of nations, O! look down
On thy own image! let not cruel discord
Divide their kindred souls! in pity hear,
Pour thy benignant spirit o'er their hearts,
And once more knit them in the bonds of peace!
Enter SUFFOLK.

Suff. The prayer of innocence is always heard. Eliz. Ha! Suffolk, whither hast'st thou? art thou come--

Suff. I come to heal thy sorrows, lovely fair

[Exit.

My joy's too great for utterance: tell me, Suffolk, How was it? Speak, is Warwick safe? O Heaven!

Suff. A moment's patience, and I'll tell thee

all.

Margaret, thou know'st, had raised a powerful force,

That doubled Edward's troops; elate with pride,
And almost sure of victory, she urged
The tardy spearmen; on they rushed, as if
Secure of conquest: the unhappy king
Stood nobly firm, and seemed to brave his fate,
When Warwick, like a guardian god, appeared:
His noble mien, and all commanding look,
Struck deep attention; every eye was bent
Upon him, and an awful silence reigned

O'er either host. He raised his voice on high, And stop,' he cried,' your sacrilegious hands, 'Nor touch my friend: who pierces Edward's breast,

Must pass through mine: I raised him to the throne,

And will support him there: to you I gave, "From you, my fellow soldiers, I expect him : Howe'er the cruel wrongs have wounded me, "He never injured you, and I forgive him.' He spake, and instant through the gazing crowd A murmur ran; down dropped their nerveless

tion,

I looked on Warwick with a jealous eye:
But this last noble deed hath won my heart,
And I am now a convert to his virtues;
But see, the king approaches.

Enter KING EDWARD.

Edw. Health and peace,

And happiness to fair Elizabeth!

Thou art no stranger to the joyful news;
The lustre of those speaking eyes declares it.
Eliz. Suffolk, even now, hath blessed me with
the tidings.

Edw. Oh! 'tis amazement all: Elizabeth, When last we met, thou wert the suppliant; now 'Tis I must ask forgiveness; I, who injured The dearest, best of men. Oh! thou hast saved Edward from shame, and England from destruction.

Eliz. Did I not say my Warwick would be just?

Edw. Thou didst, and on those beauteous lips fair truth

And soft persuasion dwell; long time he stood
Inflexible, and, deaf to friendship's voice,
Listened to nought but all-subduing love.
In after-times, thy name shall be enrolled
Amongst the great deliverers of their country,

Eliz. I have no title to the lavish praise Thy generous heart bestows; I only said What duty prompted, and what love inspired; Indulgent Heaven has crowned it with success. Edw. Thou hast done all: I am indebted to

thee

For more, much more, than I can e'er repay. Long time, with shame, I own hath Warwick soared

Above me, but I will not be cutdone
For ever by this proud aspiring rival:
Poor as I am, there yet is one way left
Το pay the debt of gratitude I owe him,
One great reward for such exalted virtues;
Thyself, Elizabeth.

Eliz. What means my lord,
My royal master?

Edw. Yes; when next we meet,

I will bestow it on him, will resign

All my fond claim to happiness and thee; Though thy dear image ne'er can be effaced From Edward's breast, though still I doat upos thee,

Though I could hang for ever on thy beauties, Yet will I yield them to their rightful lord; Warwick has earned, Warwick alone deserves them.

Eliz. Would he were here to thank thee for

Marg. That monster, that perfidious slave, Who broke his faith to Margaret, and to thee! Thy coward soul, unable to defend

The treasure thou hadst stolen, could meanly stoop

To court the traitor whom thou dar'st not punish.
Not so the injured Margaret-she repelled
The wrongs she felt, and the deceiver met
The fate he merited.

Edw. What fate? Even now,

Crowned with immortal wreaths, the hero comes To bless his friends, and punish guilt like thine. Marg. Proud and deluded wretches! I look

down

With pity on you: captive as I am,

'Tis mine to judge and punish; be it yours

To hear and tremble.

Edw. Ha!

Eliz. What can this mean?

Marg. If I mistake not, Warwick is your friend,

Your lover too, I think.

Eliz. My lord, my husband.

Marg. Know then, that friend, that lover, perjured Warwick,

Hath not an hour to live.

Edw. What murtherous hand

Marg. Mine, tyrant, mine: think not I mean
to hide

The noble deed; it is my happiness,
It is my glory: thou wilt call me base,
Blood-thirsty, cruel, savage, and revengeful.
But here I stand acquitted to myself,

And every feeling heart that knows my wrongs.
To late posterity dethroned queens,

And weeping mothers, shall applaud my justice. Edw. Justice! on whom?

Marg. Can Edward ask me? Who Imprisoned Henry, robbed me of a crown, And placed it on a proud usurper's head? Who gave his sacred promise to a queen, And broke it? Who-for which indignant Hea

ven

Chastised him-basely murthered my sweet boy?
Bereft of honour, fortune, husband, child,
Deprived of every comfort, what remained
For me but vengeance, what for him but death?
Edw. What hast thou done? When? Where !
Speak, murtheress, speak!

A

Marg. Pressed by surrounding multitudes, and made

slave, they dragged me to the conqueror's tent;

There the first horrid object I beheld,

Was the pale corpse of my poor bleeding child: There, as the insulting Warwick stood, and seemed

To triumph o'er him-from my breast I drew
A poniard forth, and plunged it in his heart.
The astonished soldiers thronged around him,
seized

And brought me here--now to your prayers
again.
[Elizabeth faints.
Edw. She faints, good Suffolk; help there!
help! support!

Assist her. Lead her in.
If it be true,

[Exit Elizabeth.

As much I fear it is, a thousand deaths
Were punishment too little for thy guilt:
Thou shalt be tortured.

Marg. Tyrant, I defy thee!

Thy threats appal not me: prepare your tortures!

Let them be sharp and cruel as thyself,
All that ingenious malice can suggest,
Or power inflict, 'twill be my comfort still,
They cannot be so great as those you feel.

Edw. Guards, take the monster hence! let her
be chained

In some deep dungeon, dark as her own thoughts; There let her perish-hence, away with her! Marg. Despair and horror visit thee-farewell

He comes, my triumph is complete; look there! [Exit.

Enter WARWICK, leaning on two soldiers. Warw. Where is he? Lead me, lead me to my king.

Edw. My Warwick! my preserver! she shall bleed For this in every vein.

Warw. Think not of her,

She has no power to hurt thee! and with guilt
Like her's, 'tis punishment enough to live:
This is no time for vengeance; death comes on
With hasty strides 'tis but a little while-
A few short moments, and we part for ever.
My friend-

Edw. I am not worthy of the name,
For I disgraced, dishonoured, murdered thee;
Edward's unkindness was the cause of all:
Canst thou forgive me?

Warw. O! may Warwick's crimes

Ne'cr meet forgiveness from offended IIcaven,

O! I will guard her with a parent's care
From every ill, watch over and protect her;
And, when the memory of thee shall awake,
As oft it will, her poignant griefs, repel
The rising sigh, wipe off the flowing tear,
And strive to charm her to forgetfulness.
Warw. Wilt thou indeed? Then I shall die in
peace.

Eliz. Yet thou mayst live.

Warw. Impossible: I feel

The hand of death press cold upon my heart, And all will soon be o'er; I have lived to save My falling country, to repent my crimes, Redeem my honour, and restore my king.

Edw. Alas! my friend, the memory of thee Will poison every bliss.

Warw. All healing time,

And bade her weeping maidens bear her hence: This would have been a dreadful sight indeed. Eliz. [Without.] I can, I will support it. Warw. Ha! that voice

I gave my word to Margaret, and broke it;
Heaven is not to be mocked, it soon o'ertakes us,
And in our crime we meet our punishment.
O, Edward! if thou hop'st that length of days,
And fair prosperity, shall crown thy wishes,
Beware of passion and resentment; make
Thy people's good and happiness thy own;
Discourage faction, banish flatterers, keep
Thy faith inviolate, and reign in peace.

I can no more-My love! Have mercy, Heaven!
Edw. He's gone!-

[Dies

Eliz. And with him all my hopes of bliss. Edw. Let every honour, to a soldier due, Attend the hero to his tomb-meanwhile, Deep in the living tablet of my heart, Will I engrave thy words-illustrious shade! Living, thou wert my counsellor and friend, And, dead, I will remember and obey thee.

Eliz. Warwick, farewell! I shall not long survive thee.

Edw. I hope thou wilt-Elizabeth, remember His dying charge, think on thy promise given. Thou shalt remain with me, with me lament Our common benefactor; we will sit And talk together of my Warwick's virtues, For I will try to emulate them all, And learn, by copying him, to merit thee. His great example shall inspire my breast With patriot zeal, shall teach me to subdue The power of faction, vanquish party rage, And make me, what alone I wish to be, The happy king of an united people.

[Exeunt omnes