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K. Hen. Call Buckingbam, and bid him arm York. Thus war hath given thee peace," for himself.

thou art still. York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will ! thou hast,

[Erit. I am resolv'd for death or dignity. Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams

Enter young CLIFFORD. prove true,

Y. Clif. Sbame and confusion ! all is on the War. You were best to go to bed, and dream

rout 1 again,

Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

Where it should guard. O war, thou son of Clif. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm,

hell, Than any thou canst conjure up to-day ; Whom angry heavens do make their minister, And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,

Throw in the frozen bosomns of our part Might I but know thee by thy housebold badge. Hot coals of vengeance I-Let no soldier fy: War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's He that is truly dedicate to war, crest.

Hath no self-love ; nor he, that loves himself, The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,

Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,

The vame of valour.-0 let the vile world end, (As on a mountain-top the cedar shows,

[Seeing his dead Father. That keeps bis leaves in spite of any storm,) And the premised • names of the last day Even to affright thee with the view thereof. Knit earth and heaven together!

Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear, Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
And tread it under foot with all contempt, Particularities and petty sounds
Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear. To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,

Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father, To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve i
To quell the rebels, and their 'complices. The silver livery of advised § age ;
Rich. Fie ! charity, for sbame I speak not in And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days

thus For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. To die in ruffian battle 1-Even at this sight, Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic, t that's more than My heart is turn'd to stone ; and, wbile, 'tis thou canst tell.

mine, Rich. If not in beaven, you'll surely sup in it shall be stony. York not our old men hell. (Exeunt severally.

spares ;

No more will I their babes : tears virginal
SCENE II.-Saint Albans..

Shall be to me even as the dew to fire ;

And beauty, that the tyrant ont reclaims, Alarums : Excursions. Enter WARWICK.

Shall to my faming wrath be vil and fax. War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick Henceforth, I will not have to do with pity : calls !

Meet I an infant of the bouse of York, And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, luto as many gobbets will i cat it, Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm, As wild Medea young Absyrtus did : And dead men's cries do oll the empty air, In cruelty will I seek out my fame. Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me! Come, thou new roin of old Clifford's house ; Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,

[Taking up the Body. Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. As did Æneas old Anchises bear, Enter YORK.

So bear I thee upon my manly shonlders ;

But then Æneas bare a living load, How now, my noble lord ? what, all a-foot ?

Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. York. "The deadly-handed Clifford slew my

[Erit. steed ; Bat match to match I have encounter'd him, Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET and SOYERAnd made a prey for carrion kites and crows SET, fighting, and SOMERSET is killed. Even of the bonny beast be lov'd so well.

Rich. So, lie thou there ;-

For, widerneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
War. Of one or both of us the time is come.

The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset

Hath made the wizard famous in his death. York. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wratbful other chase,

still ; For I myself must hunt this deer to death. War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a

Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.

crown thou ñght'st.

(Exit. As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,

Alarums : Ercursions. Enter King HENKY, It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.

Queen MARGARET, and others, retreating.

(Evit WARWICK. Clif. What seest thou in me, York? why dost Q. Mar. Away, my lord ! you are slow; for thou pause ?

shame away! York. With thy brave bearing should I be in K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens? good love,

Margaret, stay. But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

Q. Mar. What are you made of ? you'll not Clif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and

figbt nor fly ; esteem,

Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence, But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason. To give the enemy way; and to secure vs York. So let it help me now against thy By what we can, which can no more but fly. sword,

(Alarum afar off. As I in justice and true right express it ! If you be ta’en, we then should see the bottom Clif. My soul

and body

on the action of all our fortunes : but if we haply scape, both!

(As well we may, if not through your neglect,) York. A dreadful lay! 1-address thee in. We shall to London get; where you are lor'd; stantly.

And where this breach, now in our fortunes (They fight, and Clifford falls.

made, Clif. La fin couronne les auvres. [ Dies. May readily be stopp'd.

• Helmet. + One on whom mature hath set a mark of deformity, stigma, + A dreadful wager; a tremendous stake.

• Sent before their time.
* Obtain

Stop Considerate

Enter young CLIFFORD.

But still, where danger was, still there I met hiin ; Y. Cuif. Bat that my beart's on future mis. And like rich hangings in a bomely house, chief set,

So was his will in his old feeble body, I wonld speak blaspbemy ere bid you fly;

But, uoble as he is, look wbere he comes. But fly you must ; uncurable discomfit

Enter SALISBURY. Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.

Sal. Now, by my sword, well bast thou fought Away, for your relief! and we will live

to-day; To see their day, and them our fortune give :

By the mass, so did we all.- I thank you, Richard : Away, my lord, away!

(Exeunt. God knows how long it is I have to live ; SCENE III.-Fields near Saint Albans.

And it hath pleas'd him, that three times to-day

You have defended me from imminent death. Alarum: Retreat. Flourish ; then enter York, Well, lords, we have not got that which we have :

RICHARD PLANTAGENET, WARWICK, and Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, Soldiers, with Drum and Colours.

Being opposites of such repairing nature. +

York. I know our safety is to follow them; York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him ;

for, as I hear, the king is fled to London, That winter lion, who in rage forgets

To call a present court of parliament. Aged contusions and all brush of time ; +

Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth :And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,

Wbat says lord Warwick ; shall we after them! Repairs him with occasion ? this happy day

War. After them I nay, before them, if we can. Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,

Now by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day : If Salisbury be lost.

Saint Alban's battle, won by famous York, Rich. My noble father,

Shall be eterniz'd in all age to come.Three times to-day I holp him to his horse,

Sound, drums and trumpets ;-and to London all : Three times bestrid bim, thrice I led him off, Persuaded bi from any further act :

And more such days as these to us befall!

(Ereunt. • For parties.

• 1. e. We have not secured that which we have som 1. e. The gradual detrition of time.

quired. * I. c. The height of youth i cho brow of a bill is its 1. e. Being enemies that are likely no soon to relle

and recover themselres from this defeat




LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. THE action of this play comprehends a period of sixteen years. It commences with the events immediately me

ceeding the disastrous battle of St. Alban's, 1455, and concludes with the murder of King Henry VI. and the birth of Prince Edward, (afterwards Edward V.) 1471. Dr. Johnson says, “ of these three plays, I tisk the second the best. The truth is, they have not sufficient variety of action, for the incidents are toe often of the same kind : yet many of the characters are well discriminated. King Henry and his quezo, Kins P.dward, the Duke of Gloucester, and the Earl of Warwick, are very strongly and distinctly painted."


SIR JOAN MORTIXER, Uncles to the Duke EDWARD, Prince of Wales, his Son.

SIR HUGH MORTIMER, of York. LEWIS XI. King of France.

HENRY, Earl of Richmond, a Youth. DUKE OF SOMERSET,

LORD RIVERS, Brother to Lady Grey. DUKB or EXETER,



TUTOR to Rutland.

MAYOR of York.
EDWARD Earl of March, after.

wards King Eduard IV.

Two KEEPERS.-A HUNTSMAN.-A Son that EOXUND, Earl of Rutland,

has killed his Father.-A Father that has GEORGE, afteruurds Duke of His Sons. killed his Son.

RICHARD, afterwards Duke of


LADY GREY, afterwards Quien to Ed. DUKE OF NORFOLK,


BONA, Sister to the French Queen.
LARL OF WARWICK, Of the Duke of

York's Party. Soldiers, and other attendants on King Her. LORD HASTINGS,

ry and King Eduard, Messengers, watchLORD STAFFORD,

men, 4c. SCEN&, during part of the third Act, in rance ; during all the rest of the Play, in England.


SCENE I-London --The Parliament.

Drums. Some Soldiers of York's party

break in. Then, enter the Duke of York,
WARWICK, and others with White Roses in
their Hats.
War. I wonder how the king escap'd our hands.

York. While we pursued the horsemen of the
He slily stole away, and left his men : (north,
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,
Chaig'd our main battle's front, and, break

ing in, Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.

Edw. Lord Stafford's father, duke of Buck

ingham ;
Is either slain, or wounded Jingerous :
I cleft his beaver with a downright blow;
That this is true, father, behold bis blood.

(Shoring his bloody Stará. Mont. And, brother, here's the earl of Willshire's blood,

(To YORK, shoring his Whom I encour:ter'd as the battles join'd. Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what

I did,
[Throwing down the duke of SOVERSET'S

York. Richard hath best deserv'd of all my
What, is your grace dead, my lord of Somer.

Norf. Such hope bave all the line of John of



Gaunt ;

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