They crown the young man at Westminster, and as Edward the Fourth he takes up the sceptre. It is Warwick who has made him king. Now comes the story of a great quarrel and its dramatic sequel. Edward has fallen in love with beautiful Elizabeth Woodville, the daughter of a Red Rose father, and the widow of a Red Rose husband. He marries her secretly, and all the while Warwick is negotiating a foreign marriage for him with the French king’s sister. When Edward’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville is announced, Warwick’s annoyance and disgust know no bounds. He dissembles, however, though day by day he grows angrier and angrier as he sees power slipping from him and passing to the “upstart” relatives of the new queen. Edward, instigated by his new domestic circle, is bent on throwing off the Neville yoke. So he heaps honours, high offices, lands, and wealth on the Greys and the Woodvilles, and Warwick is furious. Such treatment he will not brook. He who has set up the king can pull him down again. So he seeks “false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,” who is now jealous of his brother, the king, and eager for a throne. Clarence marries Warwick’s daughter, and the strings of insurrection are vigorously pulled by the wily earl. Edward rouses himself at last and hastens northward, where his cannon soon put the rebels to flight, and their captured leader reveals Warwick’s plot to make Clarence king. At once the pair of conspirators flee to France. Warwick and that crafty intriguer, Louis the Eleventh, now concoct a plan for driving their common enemy, King Edward, off the throne, and restoring Henry the Sixth. Queen Margaret at first indignantly refuses to accept the support of the man who has driven her into exile, and cast foul aspersions on her character; but Warwick goes on bended knee to her, and withdraws every charge. The queen keeps him in this humiliating position for a quarter of an hour, and then relents. She agrees that her son shall marry Warwick’s daughter, but only when he has restored Henry to his throne. Then the king-maker, who has broken so many solemn oaths, swears on a piece of the true cross to remain faithful to the Lancastrian cause. A fleet is fitted out, Warwick lands at Dartmouth, proclaims King Henry, and summons the national levies to his banner. As Edward lies in bed at Doncaster, two friends burst into his chamber and bid him rise and flee, for his foes are within an hour’s march. He flings on his clothes, and without armour or money rides at breakneck speed to Lynn, where he sets sail for Holland. Once more the king-maker has made and unmade a king.