Henry VI Part 3/Source

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):


 * KING HENRY the Sixth.
 * EDWARD, Prince of Wales, his son.
 * LEWIS XI, King of France.
 * DUKE OF SOMERSET.
 * DUKE OF EXETER.
 * EARL OF OXFORD.
 * EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * EARL OF WESTMORELAND.
 * LORD CLIFFORD.
 * RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Duke of York.
 * EDWARD, Earl of March, afterwards King Edward IV., his son.
 * EDMUND, Earl of Rutland, his son.
 * GEORGE, afterwards Duke of Clarence, his son.
 * RICHARD, afterwards Duke of Gloster, his son.
 * DUKE OF NORFOLK.
 * MARQUESS OF MONTAGUE.
 * EARL OF WARWICK.
 * EARL OF PEMBROKE.
 * LORD HASTINGS.
 * LORD STAFFORD.
 * SIR JOHN MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York.
 * SIR HUGH MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York.
 * HENRY, Earl of Richmond, a youth.
 * LORD RIVERS, brother to Lady Grey.
 * SIR WILLIAM STANLEY.
 * SIR JOHN MONTGOMERY.
 * SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE.
 * Tutor to Rutland.
 * Mayor of York.


 * Lieutenant of the Tower.
 * A Nobleman. Two Keepers.  A Huntsman.
 * A Son that has killed his father.
 * A Father that has killed his son.


 * QUEEN MARGARET.
 * LADY GREY, afterwards Queen to Edward IV.
 * BONA, sister to the French Queen.


 * Soldiers, Attendants, Messengers, Watchmen, etc.

SCENE: England and France.

SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house
[Alarum. Enter DUKE of YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers.]

WARWICK.
 * I wonder how the king escap'd our hands.

YORK.
 * While we pursued the horsemen of the North,
 * He slyly stole away and left his men,
 * Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,
 * Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat,
 * Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself,
 * Lord Clifford, and Lord Stafford, all abreast,
 * Charg'd our main battle's front, and breaking in,
 * Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.

EDWARD.
 * Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham,
 * Is either slain or wounded dangerously;
 * I cleft his beaver with a downright blow.
 * That this is true, father, behold his blood.

[Showing his bloody sword.]

MONTAGUE.
 * And, brother, here 's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood,

[To York, showing his.]


 * Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd.

RICHARD.
 * Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.

[Throwing down the Duke of Somerset's head.]

YORK.
 * Richard hath best deserv'd of all my sons.—
 * But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?

NORFOLK.
 * Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!

RICHARD.
 * Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.

WARWICK.
 * And so do I.—Victorious Prince of York,
 * Before I see thee seated in that throne
 * Which now the house of Lancaster usurps,
 * I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close.
 * This is the palace of the fearful king,
 * And this the regal seat; possess it, York,
 * For this is thine, and not King Henry's heirs'.

YORK.
 * Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will;
 * For hither we have broken in by force.

NORFOLK.
 * We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die.

YORK.
 * Thanks, gentle Norfolk.—Stay by me, my lords;—
 * And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.

WARWICK.
 * And when the king comes, offer him no violence,
 * Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.

[They retire.]

YORK.
 * The queen this day here holds her parliament,
 * But little thinks we shall be of her council.
 * By words or blows here let us win our right.

RICHARD.
 * Arm'd as we are, let 's stay within this house.

WARWICK.
 * The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
 * Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king,
 * And bashful Henry depos'd, whose cowardice
 * Hath made us bywords to our enemies.

YORK.
 * Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute.
 * I mean to take possession of my right.

WARWICK.
 * Neither the king, nor he that loves him best,
 * The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
 * Dares stir a wing if Warwick shake his bells.
 * I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares.—
 * Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.

[Warwick leads York to the throne, who seats himself.]

[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest.]

KING HENRY.
 * My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
 * Even in the chair of state! belike he means,
 * Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
 * To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.—
 * Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father;
 * And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge
 * On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * If I be not, heavens be reveng'd on me!

CLIFFORD.
 * The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.

WESTMORELAND.
 * What! shall we suffer this? let 's pluck him down;
 * My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.

KING HENRY.
 * Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.

CLIFFORD.
 * Patience is for poltroons, such as he;
 * He durst not sit there had your father liv'd.
 * My gracious lord, here in the parliament
 * Let us assail the family of York.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Well hast thou spoken, cousin; be it so.

KING HENRY.
 * Ah, know you not the city favours them,
 * And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?

EXETER.
 * But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly.

KING HENRY.
 * Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart,
 * To make a shambles of the parliament-house!
 * Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats
 * Shall be the war that Henry means to use.—

[They advance to the duke.]


 * Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne,
 * And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet;
 * I am thy sovereign.

YORK.
 * I am thine.

EXETER.
 * For shame, come down; he made thee Duke of York.

YORK.
 * 'T was my inheritance, as the earldom was.

EXETER.
 * Thy father was a traitor to the crown.

WARWICK.
 * Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown
 * In following this usurping Henry.

CLIFFORD.
 * Whom should he follow, but his natural king?

WARWICK.
 * True, Clifford; and that 's Richard, Duke of York.

KING HENRY.
 * And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?

YORK.
 * It must and shall be so.
 * Content thyself.

WARWICK.
 * Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king.

WESTMORELAND.
 * He is both king and Duke of Lancaster;
 * And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.

WARWICK.
 * And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget
 * That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
 * And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
 * March'd through the city to the palace gates.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief;
 * And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.

WESTMORELAND.
 * Plantagenet, of thee, and these thy sons,
 * Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives
 * Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.

CLIFFORD.
 * Urge it no more; lest that instead of words
 * I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger
 * As shall revenge his death before I stir.

WARWICK.
 * Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats!

YORK.
 * Will you we show our title to the crown?
 * If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.

KING HENRY.
 * What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
 * Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
 * Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March.
 * I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
 * Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop,
 * And seiz'd upon their towns and provinces.

WARWICK.
 * Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.

KING HENRY.
 * The lord protector lost it, and not I;
 * When I was crown'd I was but nine months old.

RICHARD.
 * You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.—
 * Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.

EDWARD.
 * Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.

MONTAGUE.
 * Good brother, as thou lov'st and honourest arms,
 * Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.

RICHARD.
 * Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly.

YORK.
 * Sons, peace!

KING HENRY.
 * Peace thou, and give King Henry leave to speak.

WARWICK.
 * Plantagenet shall speak first; hear him, lords,
 * And be you silent and attentive too,
 * For he that interrupts him shall not live.

KING HENRY.
 * Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
 * Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
 * No! first shall war unpeople this my realm;
 * Ay, and their colours—often borne in France,
 * And now in England, to our heart's great sorrow—
 * Shall be my winding sheet.—Why faint you, lords?
 * My title's good, and better far than his.

WARWICK.
 * Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.

KING HENRY.
 * Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.

YORK.
 * 'T was by rebellion against his king.

KING HENRY.
 * [Aside.] I know not what to say; my title's weak.—
 * Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?

YORK.
 * What then?

KING HENRY.
 * An if he may, then am I lawful king;
 * For Richard, in the view of many lords,
 * Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
 * Whose heir my father was, and I am his.

YORK.
 * He rose against him, being his sovereign,
 * And made him to resign his crown perforce.

WARWICK.
 * Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd,
 * Think you 't were prejudicial to his crown?

EXETER.
 * No; for he could not so resign his crown
 * But that the next heir should succeed and reign.

KING HENRY.
 * Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?

EXETER.
 * His is the right, and therefore pardon me.

YORK.
 * Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?

EXETER.
 * My conscience tells me he is lawful king.

KING HENRY.
 * [Aside.] All will revolt from me and turn to him.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st,
 * Think not that Henry shall be so depos'd.

WARWICK.
 * Depos'd he shall be, in despite of all.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Thou art deceiv'd; 't is not thy southern power,
 * Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
 * Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,
 * Can set the duke up in despite of me.

CLIFFORD.
 * King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
 * Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence.
 * May that ground gape and swallow me alive,
 * Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!

KING HENRY.
 * O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!

YORK.
 * Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.—
 * What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?

WARWICK.
 * Do right unto this princely Duke of York,
 * Or I will fill the house with armed men,
 * And over the chair of state where now he sits
 * Write up his title with usurping blood.

[He stamps, and the soldiers show themselves.]

KING HENRY.
 * My Lord of Warwick, hear but one word:
 * Let me for this my lifetime reign as king.

YORK.
 * Confirm the crown to me, and to mine heirs,
 * And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv'st.

KING HENRY.
 * I am content; Richard Plantagenet,
 * Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.

CLIFFORD.
 * What wrong is this unto the prince your son!

WARWICK.
 * What good is this to England and himself!

WESTMORELAND.
 * Base, fearful, and despairing Henry!

CLIFFORD.
 * How hast thou injur'd both thyself and us!

WESTMORELAND.
 * I cannot stay to hear these articles.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Nor I.

CLIFFORD.
 * Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news.

WESTMORELAND.
 * Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
 * In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Be thou a prey unto the house of York,
 * And die in bands for this unmanly deed!

CLIFFORD.
 * In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
 * Or live in peace abandon'd and despis'd!

[Exeunt Northumberland, Clifford, and Westmoreland.]

WARWICK.
 * Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.

EXETER.
 * They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield.

KING HENRY.
 * Ah, Exeter!

WARWICK.
 * Why should you sigh, my lord?

KING HENRY.
 * Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
 * Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.—
 * But be it as it may, I here entail
 * The crown to thee, and to thine heirs for ever;
 * Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
 * To cease this civil war, and whilst I live
 * To honour me as thy king and sovereign,
 * And neither by treason nor hostility
 * To seek to put me down and reign thyself.

YORK.
 * This oath I willingly take and will perform.

[Coming from the throne.]

WARWICK.
 * Long live King Henry!—Plantagenet, embrace him.

KING HENRY.
 * And long live thou, and these thy forward sons!

YORK.
 * Now York and Lancaster are reconcil'd.

EXETER.
 * Accurs'd be he that seeks to make them foes!

[Sennet. The Lords come forward.]

YORK. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle.

WARWICK.
 * And I'll keep London with my soldiers.

NORFOLK.
 * And I to Norfolk with my followers.


 * MONTAGUE.
 * And I unto the sea from whence I came.

[Exeunt York and his Sons, Warwick, Norfolk, Montague, Soldiers, and Attendants.]

KING HENRY.
 * And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE OF WALES.]

EXETER.
 * Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger.
 * I'll steal away.

KING HENRY.
 * Exeter, so will I.
 * [Going.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.

KING HENRY.
 * Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Who can be patient in such extremes?
 * Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid,
 * And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
 * Seeing thou hast prov'd so unnatural a father!
 * Hath he deserv'd to lose his birthright thus?
 * Hadst thou but lov'd him half so well as I,
 * Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
 * Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood,
 * Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there
 * Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir
 * And disinherited thine only son.

PRINCE.
 * Father, you cannot disinherit me.
 * If you be king, why should not I succeed?

KING HENRY.
 * Pardon me, Margaret;—pardon me, sweet son;
 * The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforc'd me.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Enforc'd thee! art thou king, and wilt be
 * forc'd?
 * I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
 * Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me,
 * And given unto the house of York such head
 * As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
 * To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
 * What is it but to make thy sepulchre
 * And creep into it far before thy time?
 * Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais;

Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
 * The duke is made protector of the realm;
 * And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds
 * The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
 * Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
 * The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes
 * Before I would have granted to that act.
 * But thou prefer'st thy life before thine honour;
 * And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself,
 * Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
 * Until that act of parliament be repeal'd
 * Whereby my son is disinherited.
 * The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
 * Will follow mine if once they see them spread;
 * And spread they shall be to thy foul disgrace
 * And utter ruin of the house of York.
 * Thus do I leave thee.—Come, son, let's away:
 * Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.

KING HENRY.
 * Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Thou hast spoke too much already; get thee gone.

KING HENRY.
 * Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ay, to be murther'd by his enemies.

PRINCE.
 * When I return with victory from the field
 * I'll see your grace; till then I'll follow her.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Come, son, away! we may not linger thus.

[Exeunt Queen Margaret and the Prince.]

KING HENRY.
 * Poor queen! how love to me and to her son
 * Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
 * Reveng'd may she be on that hateful duke
 * Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
 * Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle
 * Tire on the flesh of me and of my son.
 * The loss of those three lords torments my heart;
 * I'll write unto them, and entreat them fair.—
 * Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger.

EXETER.
 * And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Sandal Castle
[Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE.]

RICHARD.
 * Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

EDWARD.
 * No; I can better play the orator.

MONTAGUE.
 * But I have reasons strong and forcible.

[Enter YORK.]

YORK.
 * Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
 * What is your quarrel? how began it first?

EDWARD.
 * No quarrel, but a slight contention.

YORK.
 * About what?

RICHARD.
 * About that which concerns your grace and us—
 * The crown of England, father, which is yours.

YORK.
 * Mine, boy? not till King Henry be dead.

RICHARD.
 * Your right depends not on his life or death.

EDWARD.
 * Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now;
 * By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
 * It will outrun you, father, in the end.

YORK.
 * I took an oath that he should quietly reign.

EDWARD.
 * But for a kingdom any oath may be broken;
 * I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.

RICHARD.
 * No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn.

YORK.
 * I shall be, if I claim by open war.

RICHARD.
 * I'll prove the contrary if you'll hear me speak.

YORK.
 * Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.

RICHARD.
 * An oath is of no moment, being not took
 * Before a true and lawful magistrate
 * That hath authority over him that swears.
 * Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
 * Then, seeing 't was he that made you to depose,
 * Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
 * Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
 * How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
 * Within whose circuit is Elysium
 * And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
 * Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
 * Until the white rose that I wear be dyed
 * Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.

YORK.
 * Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.—
 * Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
 * And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.—
 * Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk,
 * And tell him privily of our intent.—
 * You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
 * With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise.
 * In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
 * Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.—
 * While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more
 * But that I seek occasion how to rise,
 * And yet the king not privy to my drift,
 * Nor any of the house of Lancaster?

[Enter a Messenger.]


 * But stay.—What news? Why com'st thou in such post?

MESSENGER.
 * The queen, with all the northern earls and lords,
 * Intend here to besiege you in your castle.
 * She is hard by with twenty thousand men,
 * And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.

YORK.
 * Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear
 * them?—
 * Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
 * My brother Montague shall post to London.
 * Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
 * Whom we have left protectors of the king,

With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
 * And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.

MONTAGUE.
 * Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not:
 * And thus most humbly I do take my leave.

[Exit.]

[Enter SIR JOHN and SIR HUGH MORTIMER.]

YORK.
 * Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles,
 * You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
 * The army of the queen mean to besiege us.

SIR JOHN.
 * She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field.

YORK.
 * What, with five thousand men?

RICHARD.
 * Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
 * A woman-general! what should we fear?

[A march afar off.]

EDWARD.
 * I hear their drums; let's set our men in order,
 * And issue forth and bid them battle straight.

YORK.
 * Five men to twenty!—though the odds be great,
 * I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
 * Many a battle have I won in France
 * Whenas the enemy hath been ten to one;
 * Why should I not now have the like success?

[Alarum. Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Plains near Sandal Castle.
[Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR]

RUTLAND.
 * Ah! whither shall I fly to scape their hands?
 * Ah, tutor! look where bloody Clifford comes.

[Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers.]

CLIFFORD.
 * Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
 * As for the brat of this accursed duke
 * Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

TUTOR.
 * And I, my lord, will bear him company.

CLIFFORD.
 * Soldiers, away with him!

TUTOR.
 * Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
 * Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

[Exit, forced off by Soldiers.]

CLIFFORD.
 * How now! is he dead already? Or is it fear
 * That makes him close his eyes?—I'll open them.

RUTLAND.
 * So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
 * That trembles under his devouring paws;
 * And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,
 * And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.—
 * Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
 * And not with such a cruel threat'ning look.
 * Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die:
 * I am too mean a subject for thy wrath;
 * Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live.

CLIFFORD.
 * In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
 * Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.

RUTLAND.
 * Then let my father's blood open it again;
 * He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

CLIFFORD.
 * Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine
 * Were not revenge sufficient for me.
 * No; if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves
 * And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
 * It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart.
 * The sight of any of the house of York
 * Is as a fury to torment my soul;
 * And till I root out their accursed line
 * And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
 * Therefore—

RUTLAND.
 * O, let me pray before I take my death!—
 * To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!


 * CLIFFORD.
 * Such pity as my rapier's point affords.

RUTLAND.
 * I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me?

CLIFFORD.
 * Thy father hath.

RUTLAND.
 * But 't was ere I was born.
 * Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,
 * Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,
 * He be as miserably slain as I.
 * Ah, let me live in prison all my days,
 * And when I give occasion of offence,
 * Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.

CLIFFORD.
 * No cause?
 * Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Clifford stabs him.]

RUTLAND.
 * Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! [Dies.]

CLIFFORD.
 * Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!
 * And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade
 * Shall rust upon my weapon till thy blood
 * Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.

[Exit.]

SCENE IV. The Same
[Alarum. Enter YORK.]

YORK.
 * The army of the queen hath got the field.
 * My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
 * And all my followers to the eager foe
 * Turn back and fly like ships before the wind,
 * Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves.
 * My sons—God knows what hath bechanced them;
 * But this I know,—they have demean'd themselves
 * Like men born to renown by life or death.
 * Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
 * And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!'
 * And full as oft came Edward to my side
 * With purple falchion painted to the hilt
 * In blood of those that had encount'red him;
 * And when the hardiest warriors did retire
 * Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!'
 * And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
 * A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
 * With this, we charg'd again; but, out, alas!
 * We budg'd again, as I have seen a swan
 * With bootless labour swim against the tide
 * And spend her strength with overmatching waves.

[A short alarum within.]


 * Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue,
 * And I am faint and cannot fly their fury;
 * And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.
 * The sands are number'd that make up my life;
 * Here must I stay, and here my life must end.—

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers]


 * Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
 * I dare your quenchless fury to more rage.
 * I am your butt, and I abide your shot.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.

CLIFFORD.
 * Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm
 * With downright payment show'd unto my father.
 * Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,
 * And made an evening at the noontide prick.

YORK.
 * My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
 * A bird that will revenge upon you all;
 * And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven
 * Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
 * Why come you not?—what! multitudes, and fear?

CLIFFORD.
 * So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
 * So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
 * So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
 * Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.

YORK.
 * O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
 * And in thy thought o'errun my former time;

And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face,
 * And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice
 * Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this.

CLIFFORD.
 * I will not bandy with thee word for word,
 * But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes
 * I would prolong awhile the traitor's life.—
 * Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much
 * To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.
 * What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
 * For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
 * When he might spurn him with his foot away?
 * It is war's prize to take all vantages,
 * And ten to one is no impeach of valour.

[They lay hands on York, who struggles.]

CLIFFORD.
 * Ay, ay; so strives the woodcock with the gin.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * So doth the cony struggle in the net.

[York is taken prisoner.]

YORK.
 * So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;
 * So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * What would your grace have done unto him now?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
 * Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,
 * That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
 * Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.—
 * What! was it you that would be England's king?
 * Was 't you that revell'd in our Parliament,
 * And made a preachment of your high descent?
 * Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
 * The wanton Edward and the lusty George?
 * And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
 * Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
 * Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
 * Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
 * Look, York; I stain'd this napkin with the blood
 * That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point
 * Made issue from the bosom of the boy,
 * And, if thine eyes can water for his death,
 * I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
 * Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly
 * I should lament thy miserable state.
 * I prithee, grieve to make me merry, York;
 * Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
 * What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails
 * That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
 * Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad;
 * And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
 * Thou wouldst be feed, I see, to make me sport;
 * York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.—
 * A crown for York!—and, lords, bow low to him.—
 * Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on.—

[Putting a paper crown on his head.]


 * Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king.
 * Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair;
 * And this is he was his adopted heir.—
 * But how is it that great Plantagenet
 * Is crown'd so soon and broke his solemn oath?
 * As I bethink me, you should not be king
 * Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death.
 * And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,
 * And rob his temples of the diadem,
 * Now in his life, against your holy oath?
 * O, 't is a fault too too unpardonable.—
 * Off with the crown, and with the crown his head!
 * And whilst we breathe take time to do him dead.

CLIFFORD.
 * That is my office, for my father's sake.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes.

YORK.
 * She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
 * Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth,
 * How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex
 * To triumph, like an Amazonian trull,
 * Upon their woes whom fortune captivates!
 * But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging,
 * Made impudent with use of evil deeds,

I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.
 * To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom deriv'd,
 * Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.
 * Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,
 * Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem,
 * Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
 * Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
 * It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;
 * Unless the adage must be verified,
 * That beggars mounted run their horse to death.
 * 'T is beauty that doth oft make women proud;
 * But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small.
 * 'T is virtue that doth make them most admir'd;
 * The contrary doth make thee wond'red at.
 * 'T is government that makes them seem divine;
 * The want thereof makes thee abominable.
 * Thou art as opposite to every good
 * As the Antipodes are unto us,
 * Or as the south to the Septentrion.
 * O tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!
 * How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
 * To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
 * And yet be seen to bear a woman's face?
 * Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible;
 * Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
 * Bid'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish:
 * Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will;
 * For raging wind blows up incessant showers,
 * And when the rage allays the rain begins.
 * These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies,
 * And every drop cries vengeance for his death,
 * 'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false Frenchwoman.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so
 * That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.

YORK.
 * That face of his the hungry cannibals
 * Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood;
 * But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,
 * O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
 * See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears;
 * This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet boy,
 * And I with tears do wash the blood away.
 * Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this;
 * And if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
 * Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears,
 * Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears
 * And say 'Alas! it was a piteous deed!'—
 * There, take the crown, and with the crown my curse;
 * And in thy need such comfort come to thee
 * As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!—
 * Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world;
 * My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin,
 * I should not, for my life, but weep with him,
 * To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * What! weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
 * Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
 * And that will quickly dry thy melting tears.

CLIFFORD.
 * Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death.

[Stabbing him.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * And here's to right our gentle-hearted king.

[Stabbing him.]

YORK.
 * Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
 * My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.

[Dies.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Off with his head, and set it on York gates;
 * So York may overlook the town of York.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire.
[A march. Enter EDWARD and RICHARD, with their Power.]

EDWARD.
 * I wonder how our princely father scap'd,
 * Or whether he be scap'd away or no
 * From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit.
 * Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;
 * Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;
 * Or had he scap'd, methinks we should have heard
 * The happy tidings of his good escape.—
 * How fares my brother? why is he so sad?

RICHARD.
 * I cannot joy until I be resolv'd
 * Where our right valiant father is become.
 * I saw him in the battle range about,
 * And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
 * Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
 * As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
 * Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,
 * Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
 * The rest stand all aloof and bark at him.
 * So far'd our father with his enemies;
 * So fled his enemies my warlike father.
 * Methinks 'tis pride enough to be his son.—
 * See how the morning opes her golden gates
 * And takes her farewell of the glorious sun.
 * How well resembles it the prime of youth,
 * Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!

EDWARD.
 * Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?

RICHARD.
 * Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
 * Not separated with the racking clouds,
 * But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
 * See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
 * As if they vow'd some league inviolable;
 * Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
 * In this the heaven figures some event.

EDWARD.
 * 'T is wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
 * I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
 * That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
 * Each one already blazing by our meeds,
 * Should, notwithstanding, join our lights together,
 * And overshine the earth, as this the world.
 * Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
 * Upon my target three fair shining suns.

RICHARD.
 * Nay, bear three daughters; by your leave I speak it,
 * You love the breeder better than the male.—

[Enter a Messenger.]


 * But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
 * Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?

MESSENGER.
 * Ah, one that was a woeful looker-on
 * When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
 * Your princely father and my loving lord.

EDWARD.
 * O, speak no more, for I have heard too much!

RICHARD.
 * Say how he died, for I will hear it all.

MESSENGER.
 * Environed he was with many foes,
 * And stood against them as the hope of Troy
 * Against the Greeks that would have ent'red Troy.
 * But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
 * And many strokes, though with a little axe,
 * Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
 * By many hands your father was subdu'd,
 * But only slaught'red by the ireful arm
 * Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen,
 * Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite,
 * Laugh'd in his face, and when with grief he wept
 * The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks,
 * A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
 * Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain.
 * And, after many scorns, many foul taunts,
 * They took his head, and on the gates of York
 * They set the same; and there it doth remain,
 * The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.

EDWARD.
 * Sweet Duke of York! our prop to lean upon,
 * Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
 * O Clifford! boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain
 * The flower of Europe for his chivalry;
 * And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
 * For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.
 * Now my soul's palace is become a prison.
 * Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
 * Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
 * For never henceforth shall I joy again,
 * Never, O, never, shall I see more joy!

RICHARD.
 * I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture
 * Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
 * Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen,
 * For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
 * Is kindling coals that fires all my breast
 * And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
 * To weep is to make less the depth of grief;
 * Tears, then, for babes, blows and revenge for me!—
 * Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
 * Or die renowned by attempting it.

EDWARD.
 * His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
 * His dukedom and his chair with me is left.

RICHARD.
 * Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
 * Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun;
 * For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say:
 * Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.

[March. Enter WARWICK and MONTAGUE, with their Army.]

WARWICK.
 * How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad?

RICHARD.
 * Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
 * Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance
 * Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
 * The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
 * O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!

EDWARD.
 * O, Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet
 * Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption
 * Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.

WARWICK.
 * Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears,
 * And now, to add more measure to your woes,
 * I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
 * After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
 * Where your brave father breath'd his latest gasp,
 * Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
 * Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
 * I, then in London, keeper of the king,
 * Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends,
 * And very well appointed, as I thought,
 * March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen,
 * Bearing the king in my behalf along;
 * For by my scouts I was advertised
 * That she was coming with a full intent
 * To dash our late decree in parliament
 * Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
 * Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met,
 * Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought;
 * But, whether 't was the coldness of the king,
 * Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
 * That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen,
 * Or whether 't was report of her success,
 * Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
 * Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
 * I cannot judge; but, to conclude with truth,
 * Their weapons like to lightning came and went,
 * Our soldiers',—like the night-owl's lazy flight,
 * Or like an idle thrasher with a flail—
 * Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
 * I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause,
 * With promise of high pay and great rewards,
 * But all in vain; they had no heart to fight,
 * And we in them no hope to win the day;
 * So that we fled: the king unto the queen;
 * Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself,
 * In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you;
 * For in the marches here, we heard, you were
 * Making another head to fight again.

EDWARD.
 * Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
 * And when came George from Burgundy to England?

WARWICK.
 * Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers;
 * And for your brother, he was lately sent
 * From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
 * With aid of soldiers to this needful war.

RICHARD.
 * 'T was odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled;
 * Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
 * But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.

WARWICK.
 * Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
 * For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine
 * Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head
 * And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
 * Were he as famous and as bold in war
 * As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer.


 * RICHARD.
 * I know it well, Lord Warwick, blame me not;
 * 'T is love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
 * But in this troublous time what's to be done?
 * Shall we go throw away our coats of steel
 * And wrap our bodies in black mourning-gowns,
 * Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
 * Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
 * Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
 * If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.

WARWICK.
 * Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out,
 * And therefore comes my brother Montague.
 * Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
 * With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
 * And of their feather many moe proud birds,
 * Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax.
 * He swore consent to your succession,
 * His oath enrolled in the parliament;
 * And now to London all the crew are gone,
 * To frustrate both his oath and what beside
 * May make against the house of Lancaster.
 * Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong;
 * Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
 * With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
 * Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
 * Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
 * Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
 * And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
 * And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
 * But never once again turn back and fly.

RICHARD.
 * Ay, now, methinks, I hear great Warwick speak.
 * Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day
 * That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay.

EDWARD.
 * Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
 * And when thou fail'st—as God forbid the hour!—
 * Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!

WARWICK.
 * No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York.
 * The next degree is England's royal throne;
 * For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
 * In every borough as we pass along,
 * And he that throws not up his cap for joy
 * Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
 * King Edward,—valiant Richard,— Montague,—
 * Stay we no longer dreaming of renown,
 * But sound the trumpets and about our task.

RICHARD.
 * Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
 * As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
 * I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.

EDWARD.
 * Then strike up, drums!—God and Saint George for us!

[Enter a Messenger.]

WARWICK.
 * How now! what news?

MESSENGER.
 * The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
 * The queen is coming with a puissant host,
 * And craves your company for speedy counsel.

WARWICK.
 * Why then it sorts; brave warriors, let's away.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Before York
[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE OF WALES, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drums and trumpets.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
 * Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy
 * That sought to be encompass'd with your crown;
 * Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?

KING HENRY.
 * Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck;
 * To see this sight, it irks my very soul.—
 * Withhold revenge, dear God! 't is not my fault,
 * Nor wittingly have I infring'd my vow.

CLIFFORD.
 * My gracious liege, this too much lenity
 * And harmful pity must be laid aside.
 * To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
 * Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
 * Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
 * Not his that spoils her young before her face.
 * Who scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
 * Not he that sets his foot upon her back.
 * The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
 * And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
 * Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
 * Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows.
 * He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
 * And raise his issue like a loving sire;
 * Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son,
 * Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
 * Which argu'd thee a most unloving father.
 * Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
 * And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
 * Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
 * Who hath not seen them, even with those wings
 * Which sometime they have us'd with fearful flight,
 * Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
 * Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
 * For shame, my liege! make them your precedent.
 * Were it not pity that this goodly boy
 * Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
 * And long hereafter say unto his child,
 * 'What my great-grandfather and grandsire got,
 * My careless father fondly gave away?'
 * Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy,
 * And let his manly face, which promiseth
 * Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
 * To hold thine own, and leave thine own with him.

KING HENRY.
 * Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
 * Inferring arguments of mighty force.
 * But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
 * That things ill got had ever bad success?
 * And happy always was it for that son
 * Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
 * I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind,
 * And would my father had left me no more;
 * For all the rest is held at such a rate
 * As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep
 * Than in possession any jot of pleasure.—
 * Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know
 * How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * My lord, cheer up your spirits;
 * our foes are nigh,
 * And this soft courage makes your followers faint.
 * You promis'd knighthood to our forward son;
 * Unsheathe your sword and dub him presently.—
 * Edward, kneel down.

KING HENRY.
 * Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
 * And learn this lesson,—draw thy sword in right.

PRINCE.
 * My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
 * I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,
 * And in that quarrel use it to the death.

CLIFFORD.
 * Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * Royal commanders, be in readiness;
 * For with a band of thirty thousand men
 * Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York,
 * And in the towns, as they do march along,
 * Proclaims him king, and many fly to him.
 * Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.

CLIFFORD.
 * I would your highness would depart the field;
 * The queen hath best success when you are absent.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.

KING HENRY.
 * Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * Be it with resolution then to fight.

PRINCE.
 * My royal father, cheer these noble lords,
 * And hearten those that fight in your defence.
 * Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry'saint George!'

[March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers.]

EDWARD.
 * Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace
 * And set thy diadem upon my head,
 * Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy!
 * Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
 * Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?

EDWARD.
 * I am his king, and he should bow his knee.
 * I was adopted heir by his consent;
 * Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
 * You, that are king, though he do wear the crown,
 * Have caus'd him by new act of parliament
 * To blot out me and put his own son in.

CLIFFORD.
 * And reason, too;
 * Who should succeed the father but the son?

RICHARD.
 * Are you there, butcher?—O, I cannot speak!

CLIFFORD.
 * Ay, crook-back; here I stand, to answer thee,
 * Or any he the proudest of thy sort.

RICHARD.
 * 'T was you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?

CLIFFORD.
 * Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.

RICHARD.
 * For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

WARWICK.
 * What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak?
 * When you and I met at Saint Alban's last,
 * Your legs did better service than your hands.

WARWICK.
 * Then 't was my turn to fly, and now 't is thine.

CLIFFORD.
 * You said so much before, and yet you fled.

WARWICK.
 * 'T was not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
 * No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.

RICHARD.
 * Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
 * Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
 * The execution of my big-swoln heart
 * Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.


 * CLIFFORD.
 * I slew thy father; call'st thou him a child?

RICHARD.
 * Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
 * As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland,
 * But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed.

KING HENRY.
 * Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.

KING HENRY.
 * I prithee, give no limits to my tongue;
 * I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.

CLIFFORD.
 * My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
 * Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.

RICHARD.
 * Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
 * By him that made us all, I am resolv'd
 * That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.

EDWARD.
 * Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
 * A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day
 * That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.

WARWICK.
 * If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
 * For York in justice puts his armour on.

PRINCE.
 * If that be right which Warwick says is right,
 * There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

RICHARD.
 * Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
 * For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam,
 * But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,
 * Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
 * As venom toads or lizards' dreadful stings.

RICHARD.
 * Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
 * Whose father bears the title of a king,—
 * As if a channel should be call'd the sea,—
 * Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
 * To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?

EDWARD.
 * A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns
 * To make this shameless callat know herself.—
 * Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
 * Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
 * And ne'er was Agamemmon's brother wrong'd
 * By that false woman as this king by thee.
 * His father revell'd in the heart of France,
 * And tam'd the king, and made the dauphin stoop;
 * And, had he match'd according to his state,
 * He might have kept that glory to this day;
 * But when he took a beggar to his bed,
 * And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day,
 * Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him
 * That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France
 * And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
 * For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?
 * Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
 * And we, in pity of the gentle king,
 * Had slipp'd our claim until another age.

GEORGE.
 * But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,
 * And that thy summer bred us no increase,
 * We set the axe to thy usurping root;
 * And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
 * Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike,
 * We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down
 * Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.

EDWARD.
 * And in this resolution I defy thee;
 * Not willing any longer conference,
 * Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak.—
 * Sound trumpets;—let our bloody colours wave,
 * And either victory or else a grave!

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Stay, Edward.

EDWARD.
 * No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay;
 * These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton.
[Alarums. Excursions. Enter WARWICK.]

WARWICK.
 * Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,
 * I lay me down a little while to breathe;
 * For strokes receiv'd, and many blows repaid,
 * Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
 * And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile.

[Enter EDWARD, running.]

EDWARD.
 * Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death!
 * For this world frowns and Edward's sun is clouded.

WARWICK.
 * How now, my lord? what hap? what hope of good?

[Enter GEORGE.]

GEORGE.
 * Our hap is lost, our hope but sad despair;
 * Our ranks are broke and ruin follows us.
 * What counsel give you? whither shall we fly?

EDWARD.
 * Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings;
 * And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit.

[Enter RICHARD.]

RICHARD.
 * Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
 * Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
 * Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
 * And in the very pangs of death he cried,
 * Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
 * 'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!'
 * So, underneath the belly of their steeds
 * That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
 * The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.

WARWICK.
 * Then let the earth be drunken with our blood;
 * I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.
 * Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
 * Wailing our losses whiles the foe doth rage,
 * And look upon, as if the tragedy
 * Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
 * Here on my knee I vow to God above,
 * I'll never pause again, never stand still,
 * Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine,
 * Or fortune given me measure of revenge.

EDWARD.
 * O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine,
 * And in this vow do chain my soul to thine!—
 * And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face,
 * I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee,
 * Thou setter-up and plucker-down of kings,
 * Beseeching thee, if with thy will it stands
 * That to my foes this body must be prey,
 * Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope,
 * And give sweet passage to my sinful soul.—
 * Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
 * Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth.

RICHARD.
 * Brother, give me thy hand;—and, gentle Warwick,
 * Let me embrace thee in my weary arms.
 * I, that did never weep, now melt with woe,
 * That winter should cut off our spring-time so.

WARWICK.
 * Away, away! Once more, sweet lords, farewell.

GEORGE.
 * Yet let us all together to our troops,
 * And give them leave to fly that will not stay,
 * And call them pillars that will stand to us;
 * And if we thrive, promise them such rewards
 * As victors wear at the Olympian games.
 * This may plant courage in their quailing breasts,
 * For yet is hope of life and victory.—
 * Forslow no longer; make we hence amain.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field.
[Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD.]

RICHARD.
 * Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone.
 * Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
 * And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
 * Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.

CLIFFORD.
 * Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone.
 * This is the hand that stabbed thy father York,
 * And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
 * And here's the heart that triumphs in their death,
 * And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother
 * To execute the like upon thyself;
 * And so have at thee!

[They fight. Warwick enters; Clifford flies.]

RICHARD.
 * Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;
 * For I myself will hunt this wolf to death.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field.
[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY.]

KING HENRY.
 * This battle fares like to the morning's war,
 * When dying clouds contend with growing light,
 * What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
 * Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
 * Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea
 * Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind;
 * Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea
 * Forc'd to retire by fury of the wind.
 * Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind,
 * Now one the better, then another best,
 * Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
 * Yet neither conqueror nor conquered;
 * So is the equal poise of this fell war.
 * Here on this molehill will I sit me down.
 * To whom God will, there be the victory!
 * For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
 * Have chid me from the battle, swearing both
 * They prosper best of all when I am thence.
 * Would I were dead! if God's good will were so;
 * For what is in this world but grief and woe?
 * O God! methinks it were a happy life,
 * To be no better than a homely swain;
 * To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
 * To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
 * Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
 * How many make the hour full complete,
 * How many hours brings about the day,

How many days will finish up the year,
 * How many years a mortal man may live.
 * When this is known, then to divide the times;
 * So many hours must I tend my flock;
 * So many hours must I take my rest;
 * So many hours must I contemplate;
 * So many hours must I sport myself;
 * So many days my ewes have been with young;
 * So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean;
 * So many years ere I shall shear the fleece.
 * So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
 * Pass'd over to the end they were created,
 * Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
 * Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely!
 * Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
 * To shepherds looking on their silly sheep
 * Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
 * To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
 * O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth!
 * And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds,
 * His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
 * His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
 * All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
 * Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
 * His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
 * His body couched in a curious bed,
 * When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.

[Alarum. Enter a Son that hath killed his father, bringing in the dead body.]

SON.
 * Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.
 * This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight,
 * May be possessed with some store of crowns;
 * And I, that haply take them from him now,
 * May yet ere night yield both my life and them
 * To some man else, as this dead man doth me.—
 * Who's this?—O God! it is my father's face,
 * Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd.
 * O heavy times, begetting such events!
 * From London by the king was I press'd forth;
 * My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man,
 * Came on the part of York, press'd by his master;
 * And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life,
 * Have by my hands of life bereaved him.—
 * Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did;—
 * And pardon, father, for I knew not thee.—
 * My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks,
 * And no more words till they have flow'd their fill.

KING HENRY.
 * O piteous spectacle! O bloody times!
 * Whiles lions war and battle for their dens,
 * Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.
 * Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear;
 * And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war,
 * Be blind with tears and break o'ercharg'd with grief.

[Enter a Father who has killed his son, with the body in his arms.]

FATHER.
 * Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me,
 * Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold,
 * For I have bought it with an hundred blows.—
 * But let me see;—is this our foeman's face?
 * Ah, no, no, no! it is mine only son!—
 * Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,
 * Throw up thine eye; see, see what showers arise,
 * Blown with the windy tempest of my heart,
 * Upon thy wounds that kill mine eye and heart!—
 * O, pity, God, this miserable age!—
 * What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
 * Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural,
 * This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!—
 * O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
 * And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!

KING HENRY.
 * Woe above woe! grief more than common grief!
 * O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds!—
 * O pity, pity! gentle heaven, pity!—
 * The red rose and the white are on his face,
 * The fatal colours of our striving houses;
 * The one his purple blood right well resembles,
 * The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth.
 * Wither one rose, and let the other flourish!
 * If you contend, a thousand lives must wither.

SON.
 * How will my mother, for a father's death,
 * Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied!

FATHER.
 * How will my wife, for slaughter of my son,
 * Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied!

KING HENRY.
 * How will the country, for these woeful chances,
 * Misthink the king and not be satisfied!

SON.
 * Was ever son so rued a father's death?

FATHER.
 * Was ever father so bemoan'd his son?

KING HENRY.
 * Was ever king so griev'd for subjects' woe?
 * Much is your sorrow, mine ten times so much.

SON.
 * I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.

[Exit with the body.]

FATHER.
 * These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet;
 * My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre,
 * For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go;
 * My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
 * And so obsequious will thy father be,
 * Even for the loss of thee, having no more,
 * As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
 * I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
 * For I have murder'd where I should not kill.

[Exit with the body.]

KING HENRY.
 * Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care,
 * Here sits a king more woeful than you are.

[Alarums. Excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE OF WALES, and EXETER.]

PRINCE.
 * Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled,
 * And Warwick rages like a chafed bull.
 * Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain.
 * Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds,
 * Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
 * With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,
 * And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
 * Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain.

EXETER.
 * Away! for vengeance comes along with them.
 * Nay, stay not to expostulate; make speed,
 * Or else come after; I'll away before.

KING HENRY.
 * Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter;
 * Not that I fear to stay, but love to go
 * Whither the queen intends. Forward! away!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VI. Another Part of the Field
[A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded.]

CLIFFORD.
 * Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies,
 * Which whiles it lasted gave King Henry light.
 * O Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow
 * More than my body's parting with my soul!
 * My love and fear glued many friends to thee;
 * And, now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt,
 * Impairing Henry, strengthening mis-proud York.
 * The common people swarm like summer flies;
 * And whither fly the gnats but to the sun?
 * And who shines now but Henry's enemies?
 * O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent
 * That Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds,
 * Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!
 * And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
 * Or as thy father and his father did,
 * Giving no ground unto the house of York,
 * They never then had sprung like summer flies;
 * I, and ten thousand in this luckless realm,
 * Had left no mourning widows for our death,
 * And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.
 * For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
 * And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
 * Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
 * No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight.
 * The foe is merciless and will not pity,
 * For at their hands I have deserv'd no pity.
 * The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
 * And much effuse of blood doth make me faint.—
 * Come, York and Richard, Warwick, and the rest;
 * I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.

[He faints.]

[Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers.]

EDWARD.
 * Now breathe we, lords; good fortune bids us pause,
 * And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.—
 * Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen
 * That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
 * As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
 * Command an argosy to stem the waves.
 * But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?

WARWICK.
 * No, 't is impossible he should escape;
 * For, though before his face I speak the words,
 * Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave,
 * And whereso'er he is he's surely dead.

[Clifford groans and dies.]

EDWARD.
 * Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?

RICHARD.
 * A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.

EDWARD.
 * See who it is; and, now the battle's ended,
 * If friend or foe, let him be gently us'd.

RICHARD.
 * Revoke that doom of mercy, for 't is Clifford,
 * Who, not contented that he lopp'd the branch,
 * In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
 * But set his murthering knife unto the root
 * From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring;
 * I mean our princely father, Duke of York.

WARWICK.
 * From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
 * Your father's head, which Clifford placed there;
 * Instead whereof, let this supply the room.
 * Measure for measure must be answered.

EDWARD.
 * Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
 * That nothing sung but death to us and ours;
 * Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
 * And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.

[Soldiers bring the body forward.]

WARWICK.
 * I think his understanding is bereft.—
 * Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?—
 * Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
 * And he nor sees nor hears us, what we say.

RICHARD.
 * O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth;
 * 'T is but his policy to counterfeit,
 * Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
 * Which in the time of death he gave our father.

GEORGE.
 * If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.

RICHARD.
 * Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace.

EDWARD.
 * Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.

WARWICK.
 * Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.

GEORGE.
 * While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.

RICHARD.
 * Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.

EDWARD.
 * Thou pitiedst Rutland, I will pity thee.

GEORGE.
 * Where's Captain Margaret to fence you now?

WARWICK.
 * They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast wont.

RICHARD.
 * What! not an oath? nay then, the world goes hard
 * When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.—
 * I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul,
 * If this right hand would buy two hours' life,
 * That I in all despite might rail at him,
 * This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
 * Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
 * York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

WARWICK.
 * Ay, but he's dead. Off with the traitor's head,
 * And rear it in the place your father's stands.—
 * And now to London with triumphant march,
 * There to be crowned England's royal king;
 * From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
 * And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen.
 * So shalt thou sinew both these lands together,
 * And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
 * The scatt'red foe that hopes to rise again;
 * For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
 * Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears.
 * First will I see the coronation,
 * And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea
 * To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.

EDWARD.
 * Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be;
 * For in thy shoulder do I build my seat,
 * And never will I undertake the thing
 * Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.—
 * Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloster;—
 * And George, of Clarence.—Warwick, as ourself,
 * Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best.

RICHARD.
 * Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloster,
 * For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.

WARWICK.
 * Tut! that's a foolish observation;
 * Richard, be Duke of Gloster. Now to London,
 * To see these honours in possession.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. A Forest in the North of England.
[Enter two Keepers, with crossbows in their hands.]

1 KEEPER.
 * Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves,
 * For through this laund anon the deer will come;
 * And in this covert will we make our stand,
 * Culling the principal of all the deer.

2 KEEPER.
 * I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.

1 KEEPER.
 * That cannot be; the noise of thy crossbow
 * Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
 * Here stand we both, and aim we at the best;
 * And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
 * I'll tell thee what befell me on a day
 * In this self place where now we mean to stand.

2 KEEPER.
 * Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.

[Enter KING HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book.]

KING HENRY.
 * From Scotland am I stolen, even of pure love,
 * To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
 * No, Harry, Harry, 't is no land of thine;
 * Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
 * Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed.
 * No bending knee will call thee Caesar now,
 * No humble suitors press to speak for right;
 * No, not a man comes for redress of thee,
 * For how can I help them, and not myself?

1 KEEPER.
 * Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee.
 * This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him.

KING HENRY.
 * Let me embrace thee, sour adversity;
 * For wise men say it is the wisest course.

2 KEEPER.
 * Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.

1 KEEPER.
 * Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.

KING HENRY.
 * My queen and son are gone to France for aid;
 * And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
 * Is thither gone to crave the French king's sister
 * To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
 * Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost,
 * For Warwick is a subtle orator,
 * And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
 * By this account then Margaret may win him,
 * For she's a woman to be pitied much.
 * Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast,
 * Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
 * The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn,
 * And Nero will be tainted with remorse
 * To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
 * Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give;
 * She on his left side craving aid for Henry,
 * He on his right asking a wife for Edward.
 * She weeps and says her Henry is depos'd,
 * He smiles and says his Edward is install'd;
 * That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
 * Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
 * Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
 * And, in conclusion, wins the king from her,
 * With promise of his sister, and what else,
 * To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
 * O Margaret, thus 't will be! and thou, poor soul,
 * Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn!

2 KEEPER.
 * Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings and queens?

KING HENRY.
 * More than I seem, and less than I was born to;
 * A man at least, for less I should not be;
 * And men may talk of kings, and why not I?

2 KEEPER.
 * Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.

KING HENRY.
 * Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough.

2 KEEPER.
 * But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?

KING HENRY.
 * My crown is in my heart, not on my head,
 * Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones,
 * Not to be seen; my crown is call'd content,
 * A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

2 KEEPER.
 * Well, if you be a king crown'd with content,
 * Your crown content and you must be contented
 * To go along with us; for, as we think,
 * You are the king King Edward hath depos'd,
 * And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
 * Will apprehend you as his enemy.

KING HENRY.
 * But did you never swear, and break an oath?

2 KEEPER.
 * No, never such an oath; nor will not now.

KING HENRY.
 * Where did you dwell when I was King of England?

2 KEEPER.
 * Here in this country, where we now remain.

KING HENRY.
 * I was anointed king at nine months old,
 * My father and my grandfather were kings,
 * And you were sworn true subjects unto me;
 * And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?

1 KEEPER.
 * No;
 * For we were subjects but while you were king.

KING HENRY.
 * Why, am I dead? do I not breathe, a man?
 * Ah, simple men! you know not what you swear.
 * Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
 * And as the air blows it to me again,
 * Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
 * And yielding to another when it blows,
 * Commanded always by the greater gust,
 * Such is the lightness of you common men.
 * But do not break your oaths; for of that sin
 * My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
 * Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
 * And be you kings, command, and I'll obey.

1 KEEPER.
 * We are true subjects to the king,—King Edward.

KING HENRY.
 * So would you be again to Henry
 * If he were seated as King Edward is.

1 KEEPER.
 * We charge you, in God's name and the king's
 * To go with us unto the officers.

KING HENRY.
 * In God's name lead; your king's name be obey'd;
 * And what God will, that let your king perform;
 * And what he will, I humbly yield unto.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. The palace.
[Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Brother of Gloster, at Saint Alban's field
 * This lady's husband, Sir John Grey, was slain,
 * His land then seiz'd on by the conqueror;
 * Her suit is now to repossess those lands,
 * Which we in justice cannot well deny,
 * Because in quarrel of the house of York
 * The worthy gentleman did lose his life.

GLOSTER.
 * Your highness shall do well to grant her suit;
 * It were dishonour to deny it her.

KING EDWARD.
 * It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] Yea; is it so?
 * I see the lady hath a thing to grant
 * Before the king will grant her humble suit.

CLARENCE.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] He knows the game;
 * how true he keeps the wind!

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] Silence!

KING EDWARD.
 * Widow, we will consider of your suit,
 * And come some other time to know our mind.

LADY GREY.
 * Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay;
 * May it please your highness to resolve me now,
 * And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] Ay, widow?
 * then I'll warrant you all your lands,
 * An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.
 * Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.

CLARENCE.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] I fear her not, unless she chance to fall.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to CLARENCE.] God forbid that, for he'll take vantages.

KING EDWARD.
 * How many children hast thou, widow? tell me.

CLARENCE.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] I think he means to beg a child of her.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] Nay, whip me then; he'll rather
 * give her two.

LADY GREY.
 * Three, my most gracious lord.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] You shall have four if you'll be
 * rul'd by him.

KING EDWARD.
 * 'T were pity they should lose their father's lands.


 * LADY GREY.
 * Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.

KING EDWARD.
 * Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Clarence.] Ay, good leave have you;
 * for you will have leave
 * Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.

[Gloster and Clarence stand apart.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

LADY GREY.
 * Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.

KING EDWARD.
 * And would you not do much to do them good?

LADY GREY.
 * To do them good I would sustain some harm.

KING EDWARD.
 * Then get your husband's lands to do them good.

LADY GREY.
 * Therefore I came unto your majesty.

KING EDWARD.
 * I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.

LADY GREY.
 * So shall you bind me to your highness' service.

KING EDWARD.
 * What service wilt thou do me if I give them?

LADY GREY.
 * What you command that rests in me to do.

KING EDWARD.
 * But you will take exceptions to my boon.

LADY GREY.
 * No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.

KING EDWARD.
 * Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.

LADY GREY.
 * Why, then, I will do what your grace commands.

GLOSTER.
 * He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.

CLARENCE.
 * As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt.

LADY GREY.
 * Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my task?

KING EDWARD.
 * An easy task; 't is but to love a king.

LADY GREY.
 * That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.

LADY GREY.
 * I take my leave with many thousand thanks.

GLOSTER.
 * The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.

KING EDWARD.
 * But stay thee; 't is the fruits of love I mean.

LADY GREY.
 * The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

KING EDWARD.
 * Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
 * What love, thinkst thou, I sue so much to get?

LADY GREY.
 * My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;
 * That love which virtue begs, and virtue grants.

KING EDWARD.
 * No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.

LADY GREY.
 * Why, then, you mean not as I thought you did.

KING EDWARD.
 * But now you partly may perceive my mind.

LADY GREY.
 * My mind will never grant what I perceive
 * Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright.

KING EDWARD.
 * To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.

LADY GREY.
 * To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.

LADY GREY.
 * Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower,
 * For by that loss I will not purchase them.

KING EDWARD.
 * Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.

LADY GREY.
 * Herein your highness wrongs both them and me.
 * But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
 * Accords not with the sadness of my suit;
 * Please you dismiss me either with ay or no.

KING EDWARD.
 * Ay, if thou wilt say ay to my request.
 * No, if thou dost say no to my demand.

LADY GREY.
 * Then no, my lord. My suit is at an end.

GLOSTER.
 * The widow likes him not, she knits her brows.

CLARENCE.
 * He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.

KING EDWARD.
 * [Aside.] Her looks doth argue her replete with
 * modesty,
 * Her words doth show her wit incomparable,
 * All her perfections challenge sovereignty;
 * One way or other she is for a king,
 * And she shall be my love, or else my queen.—
 * Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?

LADY GREY.
 * 'T is better said than done, my gracious lord;
 * I am a subject fit to jest withal,
 * But far unfit to be a sovereign.

KING EDWARD.
 * Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee,
 * I speak no more than what my soul intends;
 * And that is to enjoy thee for my love.

LADY GREY.
 * And that is more than I will yield unto.
 * I know I am too mean to be your queen,
 * And yet too good to be your concubine.

KING EDWARD.
 * You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.

LADY GREY.
 * 'T will grieve your grace my sons should call you
 * father.

KING EDWARD.
 * No more than when my daughters call thee mother.
 * Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children;
 * And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor,
 * Have other some; why, 't is a happy thing
 * To be the father unto many sons.
 * Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.

GLOSTER.
 * The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

CLARENCE.
 * When he was made a shriver, 't was for shift.

KING EDWARD.
 * Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.

[Gloster and Clarence come forward.]

GLOSTER.
 * The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.

KING EDWARD.
 * You'd think it strange if I should marry her.

CLARENCE.
 * To whom, my lord?

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, Clarence, to myself.

GLOSTER.
 * That would be ten days' wonder, at the least.

CLARENCE.
 * That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.

GLOSTER.
 * By so much is the wonder in extremes.

KING EDWARD.
 * Well, jest on, brothers; I can tell you both,
 * Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.

[Enter a Nobleman.]

NOBLEMAN.
 * My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken,
 * And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.

KING EDWARD.
 * See that he be convey'd unto the Tower.—
 * And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
 * To question of his apprehension.—
 * Widow, go you along.—Lords, use her honourably.

[Exeunt King Edward, Lady Grey, Clarence, and Nobleman.]

GLOSTER.
 * Ay, Edward will use women honourably.
 * Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
 * That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring,
 * To cross me from the golden time I look for!
 * And yet, between my soul's desire and me—
 * The lustful Edward's title buried—
 * Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
 * And all the unlook'd-for issue of their bodies,
 * To take their rooms ere I can place myself;
 * A cold premeditation for my purpose!
 * Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty,
 * Like one that stands upon a promontory,
 * And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
 * Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,
 * And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
 * Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way.
 * So do I wish the crown, being so far off,
 * And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
 * And so I say I'll cut the causes off,
 * Flattering me with impossibilities.—
 * My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
 * Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
 * Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard,
 * What other pleasure can the world afford?
 * I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
 * And deck my body in gay ornaments,
 * And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
 * O miserable thought! and more unlikely
 * Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns.
 * Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb;
 * And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
 * She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
 * To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
 * To make an envious mountain on my back,
 * Where sits deformity to mock my body;
 * To shape my legs of an unequal size;
 * To disproportion me in every part,
 * Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
 * That carries no impression like the dam.
 * And am I then a man to be belov'd?
 * O, monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
 * Then, since this earth affords no joy to me
 * But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
 * As are of better person than myself,
 * I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
 * And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell
 * Until my mis-shap'd trunk that bear this head
 * Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
 * And yet I know not how to get the crown,
 * For many lives stand between me and home,
 * And I, like one lost in a thorny wood,
 * That rends the thorns, and is rent with the thorns,
 * Seeking a way, and straying from the way,
 * Not knowing how to find the open air,
 * But toiling desperately to find it out,
 * Torment myself to catch the English crown;
 * And from that torment I will free myself,
 * Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.
 * Why, I can smile, and murther while I smile,
 * And cry 'Content!' to that which grieves my heart,
 * And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
 * And frame my face to all occasions.
 * I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall,
 * I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
 * I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
 * Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could,
 * And like a Sinon take another Troy.
 * I can add colours to the chameleon,
 * Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,
 * And set the murtherous Machiavel to school.
 * Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
 * Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.

[Exit.]

SCENE III. France. The King's Palace.
[Flourish. Enter LEWIS, the French King, and LADY BONA, attended: the King takes his state. Then enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and the EARL OF OXFORD; LEWIS rising as she enters.]

KING LEWIS.
 * Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
 * Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state
 * And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * No, mighty King of France; now Margaret
 * Must strike her sail and learn a while to serve
 * Where kings command. I was, I must confess,
 * Great Albion's queen in former golden days;
 * But now mischance hath trod my title down
 * And with dishonour laid me on the ground,
 * Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,
 * And to my humble seat conform myself.

KING LEWIS.
 * Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep
 * despair?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
 * And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.

KING LEWIS.
 * Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
 * And sit thee by our side; yield not thy neck

[Seats her by him.]


 * To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
 * Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
 * Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
 * It shall be eas'd if France can yield relief.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Those gracious words revive my drooping
 * thoughts,
 * And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
 * Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis
 * That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
 * Is of a king become a banish'd man
 * And forc'd to live in Scotland a forlorn,
 * While proud ambitious Edward, Duke of York,
 * Usurps the regal title and the seat
 * Of England's true-anointed lawful king.
 * This is the cause that I, poor Margaret,
 * With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir,
 * Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid;
 * And if thou fail us, all our hope is done.
 * Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
 * Our people and our peers are both misled,
 * Our treasure seiz'd, our soldiers put to flight,
 * And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.

KING LEWIS.
 * Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm
 * While we bethink a means to break it off.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.

KING LEWIS.
 * The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow!—
 * And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow.

[Enter WARWICK, attended.]

KING LEWIS.
 * What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.

KING LEWIS.
 * Welcome, brave Warwick. What brings thee to France?

[He descends. Queen Margaret rises.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ay, now begins a second storm to rise,
 * For this is he that moves both wind and tide.

WARWICK.
 * From worthy Edward, king of Albion,
 * My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
 * I come, in kindness and unfeigned love,
 * First, to do greetings to thy royal person;
 * And then, to crave a league of amity;
 * And lastly, to confirm that amity
 * With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
 * That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister,
 * To England's king in lawful marriage.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * [Aside.] If that go forward, Henry's hope is
 * done.

WARWICK.
 * [To BONA.] And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf,
 * I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
 * Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
 * To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart,
 * Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears,
 * Hath plac'd thy beauty's image and thy virtue.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * King Lewis,—and Lady Bona,—hear me speak
 * Before you answer Warwick. His demand
 * Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
 * But from deceit, bred by necessity;
 * For how can tyrants safely govern home
 * Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
 * To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,—
 * That Henry liveth still; but were he dead,
 * Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son.
 * Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
 * Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;
 * For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,
 * Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

WARWICK.
 * Injurious Margaret!

PRINCE.
 * And why not queen?

WARWICK.
 * Because thy father Henry did usurp,
 * And thou no more art prince than she is queen.

OXFORD.
 * Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
 * Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
 * And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
 * Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
 * And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
 * Who by his prowess conquered all France.
 * From these our Henry lineally descends.

WARWICK.
 * Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse,
 * You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost
 * All that which Henry the Fifth had gotten?
 * Methinks these peers of France should smile at that.
 * But for the rest, you tell a pedigree
 * Of threescore and two years,—a silly time
 * To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.

OXFORD.
 * Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
 * Whom thou obeyedst thirty and six years,
 * And not bewray thy treason with a blush?

WARWICK.
 * Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
 * Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
 * For shame Leave Henry, and call Edward king.

OXFORD.
 * Call him my king by whose injurious doom
 * My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere,
 * Was done to death? and more than so, my father,
 * Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
 * When nature brought him to the door of death?
 * No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
 * This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.

WARWICK.
 * And I the house of York.

KING LEWIS.
 * Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,
 * Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside
 * While I use further conference with Warwick.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not!

[They stand aloof.]

KING LEWIS.
 * Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
 * Is Edward your true king? for I were loath
 * To link with him that were not lawful chosen.

WARWICK.
 * Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.

KING LEWIS.
 * But is he gracious in the people's eye?

WARWICK.
 * The more that Henry was unfortunate.

LEWIS.
 * Then further, all dissembling set aside,
 * Tell me for truth the measure of his love
 * Unto our sister Bona.

WARWICK.
 * Such it seems
 * As may beseem a monarch like himself.
 * Myself have often heard him say and swear
 * That this his love was an eternal plant,
 * Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
 * The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun,
 * Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
 * Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

LEWIS.
 * Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

BONA.
 * Your grant or your denial shall be mine.
 * Yet I confess [to Warwick] that often ere this day,
 * When I have heard your king's desert recounted,
 * Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.

KING LEWIS.
 * Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's;
 * And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
 * Touching the jointure that your king must make,
 * Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd.—
 * Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness
 * That Bona shall be wife to the English king.

PRINCE.
 * To Edward, but not to the English king.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device
 * By this alliance to make void my suit.
 * Before thy coming Lewis was Henry's friend.

KING LEWIS.
 * And still is friend to him and Margaret;
 * But if your title to the crown be weak,
 * As may appear by Edward's good success,
 * Then 't is but reason that I be releas'd
 * From giving aid which late I promised.
 * Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand
 * That your estate requires and mine can yield.

WARWICK.
 * Henry now lives in Scotland, at his ease,
 * Where, having nothing, nothing can he lose.
 * And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
 * You have a father able to maintain you,
 * And better 't were you troubled him than France.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick,
 * Proud setter-up and puller-down of kings!
 * I will not hence, till, with my talk and tears,
 * Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold
 * Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;
 * For both of you are birds of selfsame feather.

[A horn sounded within.]

KING LEWIS.
 * Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.

[Enter the Post.]

POST.
 * My lord ambassador, these letters are for you.
 * Sent from your brother Marquess Montague.—
 * These from our king unto your majesty.—
 * And, madam, these for you, from whom I know not.

[They all read their letters.]

OXFORD.
 * I like it well that our fair queen and mistress
 * Smiles at her news while Warwick frowns at his.

PRINCE.
 * Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled;
 * I hope all's for the best.

KING LEWIS.
 * Warwick, what are thy news?—and yours, fair queen?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Mine, such as fill my heart with unhop'd joys.

WARWICK.
 * Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.

KING LEWIS.
 * What! has your king married the Lady Grey,
 * And now, to soothe your forgery and his,
 * Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
 * Is this the alliance that he seeks with France?
 * Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * I told your majesty as much before;

This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.

WARWICK.
 * King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven,
 * And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,
 * That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's;
 * No more my king, for he dishonours me,
 * But most himself, if he could see his shame.
 * Did I forget that by the house of York
 * My father came untimely to his death?
 * Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece?
 * Did I impale him with the regal crown?
 * Did I put Henry from his native right?
 * And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame?
 * Shame on himself! for my desert is honour;
 * And to repair my honour lost for him,
 * I here renounce him and return to Henry.—
 * My noble queen, let former grudges pass,
 * And henceforth I am thy true servitor.
 * I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
 * And replant Henry in his former state.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to
 * love;
 * And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
 * And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's friend.

WARWICK.
 * So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
 * That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
 * With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
 * I'll undertake to land them on our coast
 * And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
 * 'T is not his new-made bride shall succour him;
 * And as for Clarence,—as my letters tell me,—
 * He's very likely now to fall from him,
 * For matching more for wanton lust than honour,
 * Or than for strength and safety of our country.

BONA.
 * Dear brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd
 * But by thy help to this distressed queen?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Renowned prince, how shall poor Henry live
 * Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?

BONA.
 * My quarrel and this English queen's are one.

WARWICK.
 * And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours.

KING LEWIS.
 * And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
 * Therefore, at last, I firmly am resolv'd
 * You shall have aid.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Let me give humble thanks for all at once.

KING LEWIS.
 * Then, England's messenger, return in post
 * And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
 * That Lewis of France is sending over maskers
 * To revel it with him and his new bride.
 * Thou seest what's past; go fear thy king withal.

BONA.
 * Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
 * I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Tell him my mourning weeds are laid aside,
 * And I am ready to put armour on.

WARWICK.
 * Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
 * And therefore I'll uncrown him ere 't be long.
 * There's thy reward; be gone.

[Exit Post.]

KING LEWIS.
 * But, Warwick,
 * Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men,
 * Shall cross the seas and bid false Edward battle;
 * And, as occasion serves, this noble queen
 * And prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
 * Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt:
 * What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?

WARWICK.
 * This shall assure my constant loyalty,—
 * That if our queen and this young prince agree,
 * I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy
 * To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion.—
 * Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous;
 * Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick,
 * And with thy hand thy faith irrevocable
 * That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.

PRINCE.
 * Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;
 * And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.

[He gives his hand to Warwick.]

KING LEWIS.
 * Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,
 * And thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral,
 * Shall waft them over with our royal fleet.—
 * I long till Edward fall by war's mischance
 * For mocking marriage with a dame of France.

[Exeunt all but Warwick.]

WARWICK.
 * I came from Edward as ambassador,
 * But I return his sworn and mortal foe;
 * Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
 * But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
 * Had he none else to make a stale but me?
 * Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
 * I was the chief that rais'd him to the crown,
 * And I'll be chief to bring him down again;
 * Not that I pity Henry's misery,
 * But seek revenge on Edward's mockery.

[Exit.]

SCENE I. London. The Palace
[Enter GLOSTER, CLARENCE, SOMERSET, and MONTAGUE.]

GLOSTER.
 * Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you
 * Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey?
 * Hath not our brother made a worthy choice?

CLARENCE.
 * Alas! you know 't is far from hence to France;
 * How could he stay till Warwick made return?

SOMERSET.
 * My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the King.

[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, attended; LADY GREY, as Queen; PEMBROKE, STAFFORD, HASTINGS, and others.]

GLOSTER.
 * And his well-chosen bride.

CLARENCE.
 * I mind to tell him plainly what I think.

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, brother Clarence, how like you our choice
 * That you stand pensive as half malcontent?

CLARENCE.
 * As well as Lewis of France, or the Earl of Warwick,
 * Which are so weak of courage and in judgment
 * That they'll take no offence at our abuse.

KING EDWARD.
 * Suppose they take offence without a cause,
 * They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward,
 * Your King and Warwick's, and must have my will.

GLOSTER.
 * And shall have your will, because our King;
 * Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.

KING EDWARD.
 * Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?

GLOSTER.
 * Not I.
 * No; God forbid that I should wish them sever'd
 * Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 't were pity
 * To sunder them that yoke so well together.

KING EDWARD.
 * Setting your scorns and your mislike aside,
 * Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey
 * Should not become my wife and England's queen.—
 * And you too, Somerset and Montague,
 * Speak freely what you think.

CLARENCE.
 * Then this is mine opinion,—that King Lewis
 * Becomes your enemy, for mocking him
 * About the marriage of the Lady Bona.

GLOSTER.
 * And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,
 * Is now dishonoured by this new marriage.

KING EDWARD.
 * What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeas'd
 * By such invention as I can devise?

MONTAGUE.
 * Yet to have join'd with France in such alliance
 * Would more have strength'ned this our commonwealth
 * 'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage.

HASTINGS.
 * Why, knows not Montague that of itself
 * England is safe if true within itself?

MONTAGUE.
 * But the safer when 't is back'd with France.

HASTINGS.
 * 'T is better using France than trusting France.
 * Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas
 * Which he hath giv'n for fence impregnable,
 * And with their helps only defend ourselves;
 * In them and in ourselves our safety lies.

CLARENCE.
 * For this one speech Lord Hastings well deserves
 * To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.

KING EDWARD.
 * Ay, what of that? it was my will and grant;
 * And for this once my will shall stand for law.

GLOSTER.
 * And yet, methinks, your grace hath not done well
 * To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
 * Unto the brother of your loving bride.
 * She better would have fitted me or Clarence;
 * But in your bride you bury brotherhood.

CLARENCE.
 * Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir
 * Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
 * And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.

KING EDWARD.
 * Alas, poor Clarence! is it for a wife
 * That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.

CLARENCE.
 * In choosing for yourself you show'd your judgment,
 * Which being shallow you shall give me leave
 * To play the broker in mine own behalf;
 * And to that end I shortly mind to leave you.

KING EDWARD.
 * Leave me or tarry, Edward will be king,
 * And not be tied unto his brother's will.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * My lords, before it pleas'd his majesty
 * To raise my state to title of a queen,
 * Do me but right, and you must all confess
 * That I was not ignoble of descent,
 * And meaner than myself have had like fortune.
 * But as this title honours me and mine,
 * So your dislikes, to whom I would be pleasing,
 * Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow.

KING EDWARD.
 * My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns.
 * What danger or what sorrow can befall thee
 * So long as Edward is thy constant friend
 * And their true sovereign, whom they must obey?
 * Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
 * Unless they seek for hatred at my hands;
 * Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
 * And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside.] I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.

[Enter a Messenger.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, messenger, what letters or what news
 * From France?

MESSENGER.
 * My sovereign liege, no letters, and few words,
 * But such as I, without your special pardon,
 * Dare not relate.

KING EDWARD.
 * Go to, we pardon thee; therefore, in brief,
 * Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them.
 * What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters?

MESSENGER.
 * At my depart these were his very words:
 * 'Go tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
 * That Lewis of France is sending over maskers
 * To revel it with him and his new bride.'

KING EDWARD.
 * Is Lewis so brave? belike he thinks me Henry.
 * But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?

MESSENGER.
 * These were her words, utt'red with mild disdain:
 * 'Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
 * I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.'

KING EDWARD.
 * I blame not her, she could say little less,
 * She had the wrong; but what said Henry's queen?
 * For I have heard that she was there in place.

MESSENGER.
 * 'Tell him' quoth she 'my mourning weeds are done,
 * And I am ready to put armour on.'

KING EDWARD.
 * Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
 * But what said Warwick to these injuries?

MESSENGER.
 * He, more incens'd against your majesty
 * Than all the rest, discharg'd me with these words:
 * 'Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
 * And therefore I'll uncrown him ere 't be long.'

KING EDWARD.
 * Ha! durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?
 * Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarn'd;
 * They shall have wars, and pay for their presumption.
 * But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?

MESSENGER.
 * Ay, gracious sovereign; they are so link'd in
 * friendship
 * That young Prince Edward marries Warwick's daughter.

CLARENCE.
 * Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.
 * Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast,
 * For I will hence to Warwick's other daughter;
 * That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage
 * I may not prove inferior to yourself.—
 * You that love me and Warwick, follow me.

[Exit Clarence, and Somerset follows.]

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside.] Not I.
 * My thoughts aim at a further matter; I
 * Stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown.

KING EDWARD.
 * Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick!
 * Yet am I arm'd against the worst can happen,
 * And haste is needful in this desperate case.—
 * Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
 * Go levy men and make prepare for war;
 * They are already, or quickly will be landed.
 * Myself in person will straight follow you.—

[Exeunt Pembroke and Stafford.]


 * But, ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
 * Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
 * Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance;
 * Tell me if you love Warwick more than me?
 * If it be so, then both depart to him.
 * I rather wish you foes than hollow friends;
 * But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
 * Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
 * That I may never have you in suspect.

MONTAGUE.
 * So God help Montague as he proves true!

HASTINGS.
 * And Hastings as he favours Edward's cause!

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us?

GLOSTER.
 * Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you.

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
 * Now, therefore, let us hence; and lose no hour
 * Till we meet Warwick with his foreign pow'r.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. A Plain in Warwickshire
[Enter WARWICK and OXFORD with French and other Forces.]

WARWICK.
 * Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
 * The common people by numbers swarm to us.
 * But see where Somerset and Clarence comes!—

[Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET.]


 * Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends?

CLARENCE.
 * Fear not that, my lord.

WARWICK.
 * Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;—
 * And welcome, Somerset.—I hold it cowardice
 * To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
 * Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
 * Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother,
 * Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings.
 * But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
 * And now what rests but, in night's coverture,
 * Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
 * His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
 * And but attended by a simple guard,
 * We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
 * Our scouts have found the adventure very easy;
 * That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
 * With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
 * And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
 * So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,
 * At unawares may beat down Edward's guard,
 * And seize himself,—I say not slaughter him,
 * For I intend but only to surprise him.—
 * You that will follow me to this attempt,
 * Applaud the name of Henry with your leader.

[They all cry, 'Henry!']


 * Why then, let's on our way in silent sort;
 * For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Edward's Camp near Warwick.
[Enter certain Watchmen, to guard the KING'S tent.]

1 WATCHMAN.
 * Come on, my masters, each man take his stand;
 * The king by this is set him down to sleep.

2 WATCHMAN.
 * What, will he not to bed?

1 WATCHMAN.
 * Why, no; for he hath made a solemn vow
 * Never to lie and take his natural rest
 * Till Warwick or himself be quite suppress'd.

2 WATCHMAN.
 * To-morrow, then, belike shall be the day,
 * If Warwick be so near as men report.

3 WATCHMAN.
 * But say, I pray, what nobleman is that
 * That with the king here resteth in his tent?

1 WATCHMAN.
 * 'T is the Lord Hastings, the king's chiefest friend.

3 WATCHMAN.
 * O, is it So? But why commands the king
 * That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
 * While he himself keeps in the cold field?

2 WATCHMAN.
 * 'T is the more honour, because more dangerous.

3 WATCHMAN.
 * Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
 * I like it better than dangerous honour.
 * If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
 * 'T is to be doubted he would waken him.

1 WATCHMAN.
 * Unless our halberds did shut up his passage.

2 WATCHMAN.
 * Ay; wherefore else guard we his royal tent
 * But to defend his person from night-foes?

[Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET, and Forces silently.]

WARWICK.
 * This is his tent; and see where, stand his guard.
 * Courage, my masters! honour now or never!
 * But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.

1 WATCHMAN.
 * Who goes there?

2 WATCHMAN.
 * Stay, or thou diest.

[Warwick and the rest cry all, 'Warwick! Warwick!' and set upon the guard, who fly, crying 'Arm! Arm!' Warwick and the rest following them.]

[Drum beating and trumpet sounding; enter WARWICK and the rest, bringing the KING out in his gown sitting in a chair. GLOSTER and HASTINGS fly over the stage.]

SOMERSET.
 * What are they that fly there?

WARWICK.
 * Richard and Hastings. Let them go; here is the duke.

KING EDWARD.
 * The duke! why, Warwick, when we parted,
 * Thou call'dst me king?

WARWICK.
 * Ay, but the case is alter'd;
 * When you disgrac'd me in my embassade,
 * Then I degraded you from being king,
 * And come now to create you Duke of York.
 * Alas! how should you govern any kingdom
 * That know not how to use ambassadors,
 * Nor how to be contented with one wife,
 * Nor how to use your brothers brotherly,
 * Nor how to study for the people's welfare,
 * Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?

KING EDWARD.
 * Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too?
 * Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down.—
 * Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance
 * Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
 * Edward will always bear himself as king;
 * Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
 * My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.

WARWICK.
 * Then for his mind be Edward England's king;

[Takes off his crown.]


 * But Henry now shall wear the English crown
 * And be true king indeed, thou but the shadow.—
 * My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
 * See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
 * Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
 * When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
 * I'll follow you and tell what answer
 * Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.—
 * Now, for a while farewell, good Duke of York.

KING EDWARD.
 * What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
 * It boots not to resist both wind and tide.

[Exit King Edward, led out; Somerset with him.]

OXFORD.
 * What now remains, my lords, for us to do,
 * But march to London with our soldiers?

WARWICK.
 * Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do,—
 * To free King Henry from imprisonment
 * And see him seated in the regal throne.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. London. The Palace
[Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RIVERS.]

RIVERS.
 * Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * Why, brother Rivers, are you yet to learn
 * What late misfortune is befallen King Edward?

RIVERS.
 * What! loss of some pitch'd battle against Warwick?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * No, but the loss of his own royal person.

RIVERS.
 * Then is my sovereign slain?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner,
 * Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard
 * Or by his foe surpris'd at unawares,
 * And, as I further have to understand,
 * Is new committed to the Bishop of York,
 * Fell Warwick's brother and by that our foe.

RIVERS.
 * These news, I must confess, are full of grief;
 * Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may.
 * Warwick may lose, that now hath won the day.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * Till then, fair hope must hinder life's decay;
 * And I the rather wean me from despair,
 * For love of Edward's offspring in my womb.
 * This is it that makes me bridle passion
 * And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross;
 * Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear,
 * And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs,
 * Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown
 * King Edward's fruit, true heir to the English crown.

RIVERS.
 * But, madam, where is Warwick then become?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * I am inform'd that he comes towards London,
 * To set the crown once more on Henry's head.
 * Guess thou the rest: King Edward's friends must down;
 * But to prevent the tyrant's violence,—
 * For trust not him that hath once broken faith,—
 * I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary,
 * To save at least the heir of Edward's right.
 * There shall I rest secure from force and fraud.
 * Come therefore, let us fly while we may fly;
 * If Warwick take us, we are sure to die.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE V. A park near Middleham Castle in Yorkshire
[Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, SIR WILLIAM STANLEY, and others.]

GLOSTER.
 * Now, my Lord Hastings, and Sir William Stanley,
 * Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither
 * Into this chiefest thicket of the park.
 * Thus stands the case: you know our King, my brother,
 * Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands
 * He hath good usage and great liberty,
 * And often, but attended with weak guard,
 * Comes hunting this way to disport himself.
 * I have advertis'd him by secret means
 * That if about this hour he make this way,
 * Under the colour of his usual game,
 * He shall here find his friends, with horse and men,
 * To set him free from his captivity.

[Enter KING EDWARD and a Huntsman.]

HUNTSMAN.
 * This way, my lord, for this way lies the game.

KING EDWARD.
 * Nay, this way, man; see, where the huntsmen
 * stand.—
 * Now, brother of Gloster, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
 * Stand you thus close to steal the bishop's deer?

GLOSTER.
 * Brother, the time and case requireth haste;
 * Your horse stands ready at the park corner.

KING EDWARD.
 * But whither shall we then?

HASTINGS.
 * To Lynn, my lord, and shipt from thence to Flanders.

GLOSTER.
 * Well guess'd, believe me, for that was my meaning.

KING EDWARD.
 * Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness.

GLOSTER.
 * But wherefore stay we? 't is no time to talk.

KING EDWARD.
 * Huntsman, what say'st thou? wilt thou go along?

HUNTSMAN.
 * Better do so than tarry and be hang'd.

GLOSTER.
 * Come then; away! let's have no more ado.

KING EDWARD.
 * Bishop, farewell; shield thee from Warwick's frown,
 * And pray that I may repossess the crown.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VI. London. The Tower
[Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, WARWICK, SOMERSET, Young RICHMOND, OXFORD, MONTAGUE, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Attendants.]

KING HENRY.
 * Master Lieutenant, now that God and friends
 * Have shaken Edward from the regal seat
 * And turn'd my captive state to liberty,
 * My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys,
 * At our enlargement what are thy due fees?

LIEUTENANT.
 * Subjects may challenge nothing of their sovereigns;
 * But if an humble prayer may prevail,
 * I then crave pardon of your Majesty.

KING HENRY.
 * For what, lieutenant? for well using me?
 * Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness,
 * For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure;
 * Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds
 * Conceive when, after many moody thoughts,
 * At last by notes of household harmony
 * They quite forget their loss of liberty.—
 * But, Warwick, after God thou sett'st me free,
 * And chiefly therefore I thank God and thee;
 * He was the author, thou the instrument.
 * Therefore, that I may conquer fortune's spite,
 * By living low where fortune cannot hurt me,
 * And that the people of this blessed land
 * May not be punish'd with my thwarting stars,
 * Warwick, although my head still wear the crown,
 * I here resign my government to thee,
 * For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.

WARWICK.
 * Your grace hath still been fam'd for virtuous,
 * And now may seem as wise as virtuous
 * By spying and avoiding fortune's malice,
 * For few men rightly temper with the stars;
 * Yet in this one thing let me blame your grace,
 * For choosing me when Clarence is in place.

CLARENCE.
 * No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway,
 * To whom the heavens in thy nativity
 * Adjudg'd an olive branch and laurel crown,
 * As likely to be blest in peace and war;
 * And therefore, I yield thee my free consent.

WARWICK.
 * And I choose Clarence only for protector.

KING HENRY.
 * Warwick and Clarence, give me both your hands.
 * Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
 * That no dissension hinder government.
 * I make you both protectors of this land,
 * While I myself will lead a private life
 * And in devotion spend my latter days,
 * To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise.

WARWICK.
 * What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will?

CLARENCE.
 * That he consents if Warwick yield consent,
 * For on thy fortune I repose myself.

WARWICK.
 * Why, then, though loath, yet I must be content.
 * We'll yoke together, like a double shadow
 * To Henry's body, and supply his place,—
 * I mean in bearing weight of government
 * While he enjoys the honour and his ease.
 * And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful
 * Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a traitor,
 * And all his lands and goods confiscated.

CLARENCE.
 * What else? and that succession be determin'd.

WARWICK.
 * Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.

KING HENRY.
 * But with the first of all your chief affairs,
 * Let me entreat—for I command no more—
 * That Margaret your queen, and my son Edward,
 * Be sent for to return from France with speed;
 * For, till I see them here, by doubtful fear
 * My joy of liberty is half eclips'd.

CLARENCE.
 * It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed.

KING HENRY.
 * My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that
 * Of whom you seem to have so tender care?

SOMERSET.
 * My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Richmond.

KING HENRY.
 * Come hither, England's hope.—If secret powers

[Lays his hand on his head.]


 * Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
 * This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.
 * His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
 * His head by nature fram'd to wear a crown,
 * His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself
 * Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
 * Make much of him, my lords; for this is he
 * Must help you more than you are hurt by me.

[Enter a Messenger.]

WARWICK.
 * What news, my friend?

MESSENGER.
 * That Edward is escaped from your brother,
 * And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.

WARWICK.
 * Unsavoury news! but how made he escape?

MESSENGER.
 * He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloster
 * And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
 * In secret ambush on the forest side,
 * And from the bishop's huntsmen rescued him,
 * For hunting was his daily exercise.

WARWICK.
 * My brother was too careless of his charge.—
 * But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide
 * A salve for any sore that may betide.

[Exeunt King Henry, Warwick, Clarence, Lieutenant, and attendants.]

SOMERSET.
 * My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's,
 * For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help,
 * And we shall have more wars before 't be long.
 * As Henry's late presaging prophecy
 * Did glad my heart with hope of this young Richmond,
 * So doth my heart misgive me, in these conflicts
 * What may befall him, to his harm and ours;
 * Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worst,
 * Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany
 * Till storms be past of civil enmity.

OXFORD.
 * Ay; for if Edward repossess the crown,
 * 'T is like that Richmond with the rest shall down.

SOMERSET.
 * It shall be so; he shall to Brittany.
 * Come therefore, let's about it speedily.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VII. Before York
[Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and Forces.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
 * Yet thus far fortune maketh us amends,
 * And says that once more I shall interchange
 * My waned state for Henry's regal crown.
 * Well have we pass'd and now repass'd the seas,
 * And brought desired help from Burgundy.
 * What then remains, we being thus arriv'd
 * From Ravenspurg haven before the gates of York,
 * But that we enter as into our dukedom?

GLOSTER.
 * The gates made fast!—Brother, I like not this;
 * For many men that stumble at the threshold
 * Are well foretold that danger lurks within.

KING EDWARD.
 * Tush, man! abodements must not now affright us;
 * By fair or foul means we must enter in,
 * For hither will our friends repair to us.

HASTINGS.
 * My liege, I'll knock once more to summon them.

[Enter on the walls, the Mayor of York and his Brethren.]

MAYOR.
 * My lords, we were forewarned of your coming
 * And shut the gates for safety of ourselves,
 * For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.

KING EDWARD.
 * But master mayor, if Henry be your king,
 * Yet Edward, at the least, is Duke of York.

MAYOR.
 * True, my good lord; I know you for no less.

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom,
 * As being well content with that alone.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside.] But when the fox hath once got in his nose,
 * He'll soon find means to make the body follow.

HASTINGS.
 * Why, master mayor, why stand you in a doubt?
 * Open the gates; we are King Henry's friends.

MAYOR.
 * Ay, say you so? the gates shall then be open'd.

[Exeunt from above.]

GLOSTER.
 * A wise, stout captain, and soon persuaded.

HASTINGS.
 * The good old man would fain that all were well,
 * So 't were not long of him; but, being enter'd,
 * I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade
 * Both him and all his brothers unto reason.

[Enter the Mayor and two Aldermen, below.]

KING EDWARD.
 * So, master mayor; these gates must not be shut
 * But in the night or in the time of war.
 * What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;

[Takes his keys.]


 * For Edward will defend the town and thee,
 * And all those friends that deign to follow me.

[March. Enter MONTGOMERY and Forces.]

GLOSTER.
 * Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,
 * Our trusty friend unless I be deceiv'd.

KING EDWARD.
 * Welcome, Sir John; but why come you in arms?

MONTGOMERY.
 * To help King Edward in his time of storm,
 * As every loyal subject ought to do.

KING EDWARD.
 * Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now forget
 * Our title to the crown, and only claim
 * Our dukedom till God please to send the rest.

MONTGOMERY.
 * Then fare you well, for I will hence again;
 * I came to serve a king, and not a duke.—
 * Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.

[A march begun.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Nay, stay, Sir John, awhile, and we'll debate
 * By what safe means the crown may be recover'd.

MONTGOMERY.
 * What talk you of debating? in few words,
 * If you'll not here proclaim yourself our king,
 * I'll leave you to your fortune and begone
 * To keep them back that come to succour you.
 * Why shall we fight if you pretend no title?

GLOSTER.
 * Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points?

KING EDWARD.
 * When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim;
 * Till then 't is wisdom to conceal our meaning.

HASTINGS.
 * Away with scrupulous wit! now arms must rule.

GLOSTER.
 * And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.—
 * Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
 * The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.

KING EDWARD.
 * Then be it as you will; for 't is my right,
 * And Henry but usurps the diadem.

MONTGOMERY.
 * Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself,
 * And now will I be Edward's champion.

HASTINGS.
 * Sound, trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd.—
 * Come, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation.

[Gives him a paper. Flourish.]

SOLDIER.
 * [Reads.] 'Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God,
 * King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland,' etc.

MONTGOMERY.
 * And whoso'er gainsays King Edward's right,
 * By this I challenge him to single fight.

[Throws down gauntlet.]

ALL.
 * Long live Edward the Fourth!

KING EDWARD.
 * Thanks, brave Montgomery, and thanks unto you all;
 * If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
 * Now for this night let's harbour here in York;
 * And when the morning sun shall raise his car
 * Above the border of this horizon
 * We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates,
 * For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.—
 * Ah, froward Clarence! how evil it beseems thee
 * To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
 * Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.—
 * Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day,
 * And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VIII. London. The Palace.
[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, CLARENCE, MONTAGUE, EXETER, and OXFORD.]

WARWICK.
 * What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
 * With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
 * Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
 * And with his troops doth march amain to London;
 * And many giddy people flock to him.

KING HENRY.
 * Let's levy men and beat him back again.

CLARENCE.
 * A little fire is quickly trodden out,
 * Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

WARWICK.
 * In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
 * Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war.
 * Those will I muster up;—and thou, son Clarence,
 * Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent
 * The knights and gentlemen to come with thee.—
 * Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
 * Northampton, and in Leicestershire shalt find
 * Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st. —
 * And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov'd,
 * In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.—
 * My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
 * Like to his island girt in with the ocean,
 * Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
 * Shall rest in London till we come to him.—
 * Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.—
 * Farewell, my sovereign.

KING HENRY.
 * Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope.

CLARENCE.
 * In sign of truth I kiss your highness' hand.

KING HENRY.
 * Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate!

MONTAGUE.
 * Comfort, my lord;—and so I take my leave.

OXFORD.
 * And thus [kissing Henry's hand] I seal my truth, and bid
 * adieu.

KING HENRY.
 * Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague,
 * And all at once, once more a happy farewell.

WARWICK.
 * Farewell, sweet lords; let's meet at Coventry.

[Exeunt Warwick, Clarendon, Oxford, and Montague.]

KING HENRY.
 * Here at the palace will I rest a while.—
 * Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship?
 * Methinks the power that Edward hath in field
 * Should not be able to encounter mine.

EXETER.
 * The doubt is that he will seduce the rest.

KING HENRY.
 * That's not my fear; my meed hath got me fame.
 * I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
 * Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
 * My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
 * My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
 * My mercy dried their water-flowing tears.
 * I have not been desirous of their wealth
 * Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
 * Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd;
 * Then, why should they love Edward more than me?
 * No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace;
 * And when the lion fawns upon the lamb
 * The lamb will never cease to follow him.

[Shout within 'A Lancaster! A Lancaster!']

EXETER.
 * Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are these?

[Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Soldiers.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Seize on the shame-fac'd Henry! bear him hence,
 * And once again proclaim us king of England.—
 * You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow.
 * Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry
 * And swell so much the higher by their ebb.—
 * Hence with him to the Tower! let him not speak.—

[Exeunt some with King Henry.]


 * And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course,
 * Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
 * The sun shines hot, and, if we use delay,
 * Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.

GLOSTER.
 * Away betimes, before his forces join,
 * And take the great-grown traitor unawares.
 * Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. Coventry.
[Enter, upon the walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others.]

WARWICK.
 * Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?—
 * How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?

1 MESSENGER.
 * By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

WARWICK.
 * How far off is our brother Montague?
 * Where is the post that came from Montague?

2 MESSENGER.
 * By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

[Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE.]

WARWICK.
 * Say, Somerville, what says my loving son?
 * And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now?

SOMERVILLE.
 * At Southam I did leave him with his forces
 * And do expect him here some two hours hence.

[Drum heard.]

WARWICK.
 * Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum.

SOMERVILLE.
 * It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies.
 * The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.

WARWICK.
 * Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends.

SOMERVILLE.
 * They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.

[March. Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Go, trumpet, to the walls and sound a parle.

GLOSTER.
 * See how the surly Warwick mans the wall.

WARWICK.
 * O, unbid spite! Is sportful Edward come?
 * Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc'd,
 * That we could hear no news of his repair?

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates?
 * Speak gentle words and humbly bend thy knee,
 * Call Edward king and at his hands beg mercy?
 * And he shall pardon thee these outrages.

WARWICK.
 * Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
 * Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down?
 * Call Warwick patron and be penitent,
 * And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.

GLOSTER.
 * I thought, at least, he would have said the king;
 * Or did he make the jest against his will?

WARWICK.
 * Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?

GLOSTER.
 * Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give;
 * I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

WARWICK.
 * 'T was I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.

KING EDWARD.
 * Why, then, 't is mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

WARWICK.
 * Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight,
 * And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
 * And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

KING EDWARD.
 * But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner;
 * And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
 * What is the body when the head is off?

GLOSTER.
 * Alas! that Warwick had no more forecast,
 * But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
 * The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
 * You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace,
 * And ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.

KING EDWARD.
 * 'T is even so; yet you are Warwick still.

GLOSTER.
 * Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.
 * Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.

WARWICK.
 * I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
 * And with the other fling it at thy face,
 * Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.

KING EDWARD.
 * Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend,
 * This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair,
 * Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off,
 * Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,
 * 'Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.'

[Enter OXFORD, with Forces.]

WARWICK.
 * O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes.

OXFORD.
 * Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city.]

GLOSTER.
 * The gates are open; let us enter too.

KING EDWARD.
 * So other foes may set upon our backs.
 * Stand we in good array, for they no doubt
 * Will issue out again and bid us battle;
 * If not, the city being but of small defence,
 * We'll quietly rouse the traitors in the same.

WARWICK.
 * O, welcome, Oxford, for we want thy help.

[Enter MONTAGUE, with Forces.]

MONTAGUE.
 * Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city.]

GLOSTER.
 * Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason,
 * Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.

KING EDWARD.
 * The harder match'd, the greater victory;
 * My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.

[Enter SOMERSET, with forces.]

SOMERSET.
 * Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city.]

GLOSTER.
 * Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
 * Have sold their lives unto the House of York;
 * And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold.

[Enter CLARENCE, with Forces.]

WARWICK.
 * And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,
 * Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
 * With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
 * More than the nature of a brother's love!—

[Gloster and Clarence whisper.]


 * Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt if Warwick call.

CLARENCE.
 * Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

[Taking the red rose out of his hat.]


 * Look here, I throw my infamy at thee;
 * I will not ruinate my father's house,
 * Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
 * And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,
 * That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
 * To bend the fatal instruments of war
 * Against his brother and his lawful king?
 * Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath;
 * To keep that oath were more impiety
 * Than Jephtha's when he sacrific'd his daughter.
 * I am so sorry for my trespass made
 * That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
 * I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,
 * With resolution, whereso'er I meet thee—
 * As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad—
 * To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
 * And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
 * And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.—
 * Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;—
 * And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
 * For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, welcome more, and ten times more belov'd,
 * Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.

GLOSTER.
 * Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.

WARWICK.
 * O passing traitor, perjur'd and unjust!

KING EDWARD.
 * What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight,
 * Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

WARWICK.
 * Alas! I am not coop'd here for defence;
 * I will away towards Barnet presently,
 * And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

KING EDWARD.
 * Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.—
 * Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory!

[March. Exeunt.]

SCENE II. A Field of Battle near Barnet.
[Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing in WARWICK wounded.]

KING EDWARD.
 * So, lie thou there; die thou, and die our fear,
 * For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.—
 * Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
 * That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

[Exit.]

WARWICK.
 * Ah! who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe,
 * And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick.
 * Why ask I that? my mangled body shows;
 * My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows
 * That I must yield my body to the earth
 * And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
 * Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
 * Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
 * Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
 * Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,
 * And kept low shrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.
 * These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,
 * Have been as piercing as the midday sun,
 * To search the secret treasons of the world;
 * The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,
 * Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres,
 * For who liv'd king but I could dig his grave?
 * And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?
 * Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
 * My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
 * Even now forsake me, and of all my lands
 * Is nothing left me but my body's length.
 * Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
 * And live we how we can, yet die we must.

[Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET.]

SOMERSET.
 * Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are,
 * We might recover all our loss again.
 * The queen from France hath brought a puissant power;
 * Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!

WARWICK.
 * Why, then I would not fly.—Ah, Montague!
 * If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand
 * And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile.
 * Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou did'st,
 * Thy tears would wash this cold, congealed blood
 * That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
 * Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

SOMERSET.
 * Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his last,
 * And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
 * And said 'Commend me to my valiant brother.'
 * And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
 * Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
 * That might not be distinguish'd; but at last
 * I well might hear, delivered with a groan,—
 * 'O farewell, Warwick!'

WARWICK.
 * Sweet rest his soul!—Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
 * For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.

[Dies.]

OXFORD.
 * Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt bearing off Warwick's body.]

SCENE III. Another Part of the Field
[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
 * And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
 * But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
 * I spy a black, suspicious, threatEning cloud,
 * That will encounter with our glorious sun
 * Ere he attain his easeful western bed.
 * I mean, my lords, those powers that the Queen
 * Hath rais'd in Gallia have arriv'd our coast
 * And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

CLARENCE.
 * A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
 * And blow it to the source from whence it came;
 * Thy very beams will dry those vapours up,
 * For every cloud engenders not a storm.

GLOSTER.
 * The queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
 * And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
 * If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd,
 * Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

KING EDWARD.
 * We are advertis'd by our loving friends
 * That they do hold their course toward Tewkesbury.
 * We, having now the best at Barnet field,
 * Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
 * And, as we march, our strength will be augmented
 * In every county as we go along.—
 * Strike up the drum! cry 'Courage!' and away.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Plains wear Tewkesbury
[March. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
 * But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
 * What though the mast be now blown overboard,
 * The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
 * And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood?
 * Yet lives our pilot still. Is 't meet that he
 * Should leave the helm, and like a fearful lad
 * With tearful eyes add water to the sea,
 * And give more strength to that which hath too much,
 * Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock,
 * Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
 * Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
 * Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
 * And Montague our topmast; what of him?
 * Our slaught'red friends the tackles; what of these?
 * Why, is not Oxford here another anchor,
 * And Somerset another goodly mast?
 * The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
 * And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
 * For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
 * We will not from the helm to sit and weep,
 * But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,
 * From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack,
 * As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
 * And what is Edward but a ruthless sea?
 * What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
 * And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
 * All these the enemies to our poor bark?
 * Say you can swim; alas, 't is but a while!
 * Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink;
 * Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
 * Or else you famish,—that's a threefold death.
 * This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
 * If case some one of you would fly from us,
 * That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers
 * More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.
 * Why, courage then! what cannot be avoided
 * 'T were childish weakness to lament or fear.

PRINCE.
 * Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit
 * Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
 * Infuse his breast with magnanimity,
 * And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
 * I speak not this as doubting any here;
 * For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
 * He should have leave to go away betimes,
 * Lest in our need he might infect another
 * And make him of the like spirit to himself.
 * If any such be here—as God forbid!—
 * Let him depart before we need his help.

OXFORD.
 * Women and children of so high a courage,
 * And warriors faint! why, 't were perpetual shame.—
 * O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
 * Doth live again in thee; long mayst thou live
 * To bear his image and renew his glories!

SOMERSET.
 * And he that will not fight for such a hope,
 * Go home to bed, and like the owl by day,
 * If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Thanks, gentle Somerset.—Sweet Oxford, thanks.

PRINCE.
 * And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand
 * Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

OXFORD.
 * I thought no less; it is his policy
 * To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

SOMERSET.
 * But he's deceiv'd; we are in readiness.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.

OXFORD.
 * Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.

[Flourish and march. Enter KING EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood
 * Which, by the heaven's assistance and your strength,
 * Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
 * I need not add more fuel to your fire,
 * For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out.
 * Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say,
 * My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
 * Ye see I drink the water of my eyes.
 * Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,
 * Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurp'd,
 * His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
 * His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
 * And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
 * You fight in justice; then, in God's name, lords,
 * Be valiant and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both armies.]

SCENE V. Another part of the Field.
[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; With QUEEN MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, as prisoners.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.
 * Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight;
 * For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
 * Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.

OXFORD.
 * For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.

SOMERSET.
 * Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * So part we sadly in this troublous world,
 * To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

KING EDWARD.
 * Is proclamation made that who finds Edward
 * Shall have a high reward, and he his life?

GLOSTER.
 * It is; and lo, where youthful Edward comes!

[Enter soldiers with PRINCE EDWARD.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Bring forth the gallant; let us hear him speak.
 * What! can so young a man begin to prick?—
 * Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
 * For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
 * And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?

PRINCE.
 * Speak like a subject, proud, ambitious York!
 * Suppose that I am now my father's mouth;
 * Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
 * Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee
 * Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ah, thy father had been so resolv'd!

GLOSTER.
 * That you might still have worn the petticoat,
 * And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.

PRINCE.
 * Let Aesop fable in a winter's night;
 * His currish riddle sorts not with this place.

GLOSTER.
 * By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.

GLOSTER.
 * For God's sake, take away this captive scold.

PRINCE.
 * Nay, take away this scolding crook-back rather.

KING EDWARD.
 * Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.

CLARENCE.
 * Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.

PRINCE.
 * I know my duty; you are all undutiful.
 * Lascivious Edward,—and thou perjur'd George,—
 * And thou misshapen Dick,—I tell ye all,
 * I am your better, traitors as ye are;—
 * And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.

KING EDWARD.
 * Take that, the likeness of this railer here.

[Stabs him.]

GLOSTER.
 * Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy agony.

[Stabs him.]

CLARENCE.
 * And there's for twitting me with perjury.

[Stabs him.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * O, kill me too!

GLOSTER.
 * Marry, and shall.

[Offers to kill her.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Hold, Richard, hold! for we have done to much.

GLOSTER.
 * Why should she live to fill the world with words?

KING EDWARD.
 * What! doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.

GLOSTER.
 * Clarence, excuse me to the king, my brother.
 * I'll hence to London on a serious matter;
 * Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.

CLARENCE.
 * What? what?

GLOSTER.
 * The Tower! the Tower!

[Exit.]

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * O Ned! sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy.
 * Canst thou not speak?—O traitors! murtherers!
 * They that stabb'd Caesar shed no blood at all,
 * Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
 * If this foul deed were by to equal it.
 * He was a man: this, in respect, a child,
 * And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
 * What's worse than murtherer, that I may name it?
 * No, no, my heart will burst, an if I speak;
 * And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.—
 * Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals!
 * How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
 * You have no children, butchers! if you had,
 * The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse;
 * But, if you ever chance to have a child,
 * Look in his youth to have him so cut off
 * As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!

KING EDWARD.
 * Away with her! go, bear her hence perforce.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here;
 * Here sheathe thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death.
 * What! wilt thou not?—then, Clarence, do it thou.

CLARENCE.
 * By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do
 * it.

CLARENCE.
 * Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself;
 * 'T was sin before, but now 't is charity.
 * What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher,
 * Hard-favour'd Richard?—Richard, where art thou?
 * Thou art not here; murther is thy alms-deed,
 * Petitioners for blood thou ne'er putt'st back.

KING EDWARD.
 * Away, I say! I charge ye, bear her hence.

QUEEN MARGARET.
 * So come to you and yours as to this prince!

[She is taken out.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Where's Richard gone?

CLARENCE.
 * To London, all in post, and, as I guess,
 * To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

KING EDWARD.
 * He's sudden if a thing comes in his head.
 * Now march we hence; discharge the common sort
 * With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
 * And see our gentle queen how well she fares.
 * By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VI. London. The Tower.
[KING HENRY is discovered sitting with a book in his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER.]

GLOSTER.
 * Good day, my lord. What! at your book so hard?

KING HENRY.
 * Ay, my good lord;—my lord, I should say rather.
 * 'T is sin to flatter; 'good' was little better.
 * Good Gloster and good devil were alike,
 * And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord.

GLOSTER.
 * Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer.

[Exit Lieutenant.]

KING HENRY.
 * So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
 * So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
 * And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.—
 * What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?

GLOSTER.
 * Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
 * The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

KING HENRY.
 * The bird that hath been limed in a bush
 * With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;
 * And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
 * Have now the fatal object in my eye
 * Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.

GLOSTER.
 * Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete
 * That taught his son the office of a fowl!
 * And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.

KING HENRY.
 * I, Daedalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
 * Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
 * The sun that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
 * Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea
 * Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
 * Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
 * My breast can better brook thy dagger's point
 * Than can my ears that tragic history.
 * But wherefore dost thou come? is 't for my life?

GLOSTER.
 * Think'st thou I am an executioner?

KING HENRY.
 * A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
 * If murdering innocents be executing,
 * Why, then thou are an executioner.

GLOSTER.
 * Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.

KING HENRY.
 * Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume,
 * Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine.
 * And thus I prophesy,—that many a thousand,
 * Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear,
 * And many an old man's sigh and many a widow's,
 * And many an orphan's water-standing eye,—
 * Men for their sons', wives for their husbands' fate,
 * And orphans for their parents' timeless death,—
 * Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
 * The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
 * The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
 * Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees;
 * The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
 * And chatt'ring pies in dismal discord sung.
 * Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
 * And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope,
 * An indigested and deformed lump,
 * Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
 * Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
 * To signify thou cam'st to bite the world;
 * And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
 * Thou cam'st—

GLOSTER.
 * I'll hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy speech.

[Stabs him.]

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.

KING HENRY.
 * Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
 * O, God forgive my sins, and pardon thee!

[Dies.]

GLOSTER.
 * What! will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
 * Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
 * See, how my sword weeps for the poor King's death!
 * O, may such purple tears be always shed
 * From those that wish the downfall of our house!—
 * If any spark of life be yet remaining,
 * Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither,

[Stabs him again.]


 * I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
 * Indeed, 't is true that Henry told me of;
 * For I have often heard my mother say
 * I came into the world with my legs forward.
 * Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste
 * And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
 * The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried
 * 'O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'
 * And so I was, which plainly signified
 * That I should snarl and bite and play the dog.
 * Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so,
 * Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
 * I have no brother, I am like no brother,
 * And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine,
 * Be resident in men like one another,
 * And not in me! I am myself alone.—
 * Clarence, beware! thou keep'st me from the light;
 * But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
 * For I will buzz abroad such prophecies
 * That Edward shall be fearful of his life,
 * And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
 * King Henry and the prince his son are gone;
 * Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest,
 * Counting myself but bad till I be best.
 * I'll throw thy body in another room,
 * And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

[Exit with the body.]

SCENE VII. London. The Palace.
[KING EDWARD is discovered sitting on his throne; QUEEN ELIZABETH with the infant Prince, CLARENCE, Gloster, HASTINGS, and others, near him.]

KING EDWARD.
 * Once more we sit in England's royal throne,
 * Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
 * What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn,
 * Have we mow'd down in tops of all their pride!
 * Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
 * For hardy and undoubted champions;
 * Two Cliffords, as the father and the son;
 * And two Northumberlands,—two braver men
 * Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound;
 * With them the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,
 * That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion
 * And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
 * Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat
 * And made our footstool of security.—
 * Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.—
 * Young Ned, for thee thine uncles and myself
 * Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night,
 * Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat,
 * That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace;
 * And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.

Gloster.
 * [Aside.] I'll blast his harvest if your head were laid;
 * For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
 * This shoulder was ordain'd so thick to heave;
 * And heave it shall some weight or break my back.—
 * Work thou the way,—and that shall execute.

KING EDWARD.
 * Clarence and Gloster, love my lovely queen;
 * And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.

CLARENCE.
 * The duty that I owe unto your Majesty
 * I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
 * Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.

Gloster.
 * And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st,
 * Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.—
 * [Aside.] To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his Master,
 * And cried, all hail! when as he meant all harm.

KING EDWARD.
 * Now am I seated as my soul delights;
 * Having my country's peace and brothers' loves.

CLARENCE.
 * What will your Grace have done with Margaret?
 * Reignier, her father, to the King of France
 * Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
 * And hither have they sent it for her ransom.

KING EDWARD.
 * Away with her and waft her hence to France.—
 * And now what rests but that we spend the time
 * With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
 * Such as befits the pleasure of the court?
 * Sound drums and trumpets!—farewell sour annoy!
 * For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

[Exeunt.]