SCENE II. A Room in Sandal Castle, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE. Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.' Edw. No, I can better play the orator. Mont. 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? Edw. No quarrel, but a slight contention.2 York. About what? Rich. 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. York. I took an oath, that he should quietly reign. Edw. But, for a kingdom, any oath may be broken : I'd break a thousand oaths, to reign one year. Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should be forsworn. York. I shall be, if I claim by open war. Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. That hath authority over him that swears: Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. [1] Montague was brother to Warwick; Warwick's daughter was married to a son of York: therefore York and Montague were brothers. TOLLET. [2] In the old quarto sweet contention, i. e. the argument of their dispute was on a grateful topic; the question of their father's immediate right to the crown. THEOBALD [3] The obligation of an oath is here eluded by very despicable sophistry. A lawful magistrate alone has the power to exact an oath, but the oath derives no part of its force from the magistrate. The plea against the obligation of an oath obliging to maintain a usurper, taken from the unlawfulness of the oath itself in the foregoing play, was rational and just. JOHNS Until the white rose, that I wear, be dy'd York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.- And whet on Warwick to this enterprize. You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham, Enter a Messenger. But, stay; what news? why com'st thou in such post: Mess. 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 ; York. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou, that we fear them ?— Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me ;- [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 means to besiege us. Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in the field. York. What, with five thousand men ? Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. [4] I know not whether the author intended any moral instruction, but he that reads this has a striking admonition against that precipitancy by which men often use unlawful means to do that which a little delay would put honestly in their power. Had York staid but a few moments, he had saved his ease from the stain of perjury. JOHNS A woman's general; what should we fear? [A march afar off. Edw. 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, When as the enemy hath been ten to one; Why should I not now have the like success? Plains near SCENE III. [Alarum. Exeunt. Sandal Castle. Alarums: Excursions. Enter ☛ Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands ! Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes ! Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers. Clif. 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. Tutor. Ah, Clifford ! murder not this innocent child, Lest thou be hated both of God and man. [Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes ?-I'll open them. Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws :5 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 threatening 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. Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge sufficient for me; [5] That is, the lion that hath been long confined without food, and is let out to devour a man condemued. JOHNS. No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves, [Lifting his hand. Rut. O let me pray before I take my death:— To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. Rut. I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me? Clif. Thy father hath. (Rut. But 'twas ere I was born. Thou hast one son, for his sake pity me; Lest, in revenge thereof, sith God is just, 7 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. Clif. No cause? cause. Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [CLIFFORD stabs him. Rut. Dii faciant, laudis summa sit ista tuæ!8 [Dies. Clif. 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. 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, My sons- -God knows what hath bechanced them ; Like men born to renown, by life, or death. [6] Rutland is under a mistake. The battle of St. Albans, in which old Clifford was slain, happened in 1455; that of Wakefield in 1460. He ap pears to have been at this time about seventeen years old, [7] i. e. since, STEEV. RITSON. [8] This line is in Ovid's Epistle from Phillis to Demophoon. STEEV. And thrice cry'd,-Courage, father! fight it out! With this, we charg'd again: but, out, alas! And spend her strength with over-matching waves. [A short alarum within. Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue ; And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury : Enter Queen MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers. Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland,— North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. York. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth And, in that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven, Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? Clif. 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'er-run my former time: And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face ; And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice, MAL. [9] To bodge might mean, (as to botch does now) to do a thing imperfectly and awkwardly; and thence to fail or miscarry in an attempt. [1] Or, noontide point on the dial. JOHNS. |