[Exit Lodowick.]
COUNTESS.
Sorry I am to see my liege so sad:
What may thy subject do to drive from thee
Thy gloomy consort, sullome melancholy?
KING EDWARD.
Ah, Lady, I am blunt and cannot straw
The flowers of solace in a ground of shame:—
Since I came hither, Countess, I am wronged.
COUNTESS.
Now God forbid that any in my house
Should think my sovereign wrong! Thrice gentle King,
Acquaint me with your cause of discontent.
KING EDWARD.
How near then shall I be to remedy?
COUNTESS.
As near, my Liege, as all my woman’s power
Can pawn it self to buy thy remedy.
KING EDWARD.
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.