Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women:
'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower;
My Lady Gray his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
That tempers him to this extremity. (1.1.4)
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Were best to do it secretly alone.
What one, my lord?
Her husband, knave! Wouldst thou betray me? (1.1.7)
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
The readiest way to make the wench amends
Is to become her husband and her father;
The which will I-not all so much for love
As for another secret close intent
By marrying her which I must reach unto. (1.1.16)