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Edw. No quarrel, but a slight contention. Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it
York. About what? (grace and us; Rich. About that which concerns your And thus most humbly I do take my leave. The crown of England, father, which is yours.
(Exit. York. Mine, boy? not cill king Henry be Enter Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortinier. dead.
[death. York. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, Rich. Your right depends not on his life, or
mine uncles ! Edw. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it You are come to Sandal in a happy hour ;
[breathe, The army of the queen niean to besiege us. By giving the house of Lancaster leave to Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet It will outrun you, father, in the end. (reign. her in the field.
York. I took an oath that he should quietly York. What, with five thousand men? Edw. But, for a kingdom, any oath may be Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a broken :
need : I would break a thousand oaths to reign one A woman's general ; what should we fear? Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should
(A march afar off. be forsworn.
Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men York. I shall be, if I claim by open war.
in order, Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. me speak.
York. Five men to twenty! though the odds York. Thou canst not, son ; it is impossible. I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. (be great,
Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not Many a battle have I won in France, Before a true and lawful magistrate, (took Whenas the enemy hath been ten to one : That hath authority over him that swears: Why should I not now have the like success ? Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
[Alarum. Exeunt. Then, seeing 'twas nat made you to de
SCENE III.-Plains near Sandal Castle. pose, Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter Rutland and
his Tutor. Therefore, to arms. And, father, do but think How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their Within whose circuit is Elysium,
hands? And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. Ah, tutor, look, where bloody Clifford comes ! Why do we linger thus ? I cannot rest
Enter Clifford and Soldiers. Until the white rose, that I wear, be dy'd Clif. Chaplain, away : thy priesthood saves Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. thy life.
York. Richard, enough, I will be king, or As for the brat of this accursèd duke, Brother, thou shalt to London presently, (die. Whose father slew my father, he shall die. And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him com• Thou, Richard, shalt unto the duke of Nor- Clif. Soldiers, away with him. (pany: And tell him privily of our intent. [fo Tut. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent You, Edward, shall unto my lord of Cobham, child, With whom the Kentish men will willingly Lest thou be hated both of God and man! In them I trust; for they are soldiers, (rise :
[Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.
Clif. How now! is he dead already ? Or is While you are thus employ'd, what resteth it fear But that I seek occasion how to rise, (more, That makes him close his eyes ?-I'll open And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the Nor any of the house of Lancaster ?
wretch Enter a Messenger.
That trembles under his devouring paws ; But, stay : what news? Why com'st thou in And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, such post?
And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.Mess. The queen with all the northern earls Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, and lords
And not with such a cruel threatening look! Intend here to besiege you in your castle : Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die ! She is hard by with twenty thousand men ; I am too mean a subject for thy wrath : And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. York. Ay, with my sword. What ! think'st Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my thou that we fear them?
father's blood Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;— Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words My brother Montague shall post to London : should enter.
(again : Let noble Warwick, Cobhim, and the rest, Rut. Then let my father's blood open it Whom we have left protectors of the king, He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. With powerful policy strengthen themselves, Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives And trust not simple Henry, nor his oaths. Were not revenge sufficient for me : (and thine
No; if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves, The sands are number'd that make up my life ; And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, Here must I stay, and here my life must end. It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, NorthumThe sight of any of the house of York
berland, and Soldiers. Is as a fury to torment my soul ;
Come, bloody Clifford, -rough NorthumberAnd till I root out their accursed line,
land, And leave not one alive, I live in hell. I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: Therefore
(Lifting his hand. I am your butt, and I abide your shot. (net. Rut. 0. let me pray before s take my North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagedeath!
Clif. Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! With downright payment, show'd unto my Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. father. Rút. I never did thee harm : why wilt thou Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car, Clif. Thy father hath.
[slay me? And made an evening at the noontide prick.
But 'twas ere I was born. York. My ashes, as the phenix, may bring Thou hast one son, for his sake pity me ; A bird that will revenge upon you all : [forth Lest in revenge thereof, --sith God is just,- And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, He be as miserably slain as I.
Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. Ah, let me live in prison all my days ;
Why come you not? what! multitudes, and And when I give occasion of offence,
[further ; 'Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause ! Clif. So cowards fight when they can fly no Clif. No cause?
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons ; Thy father slew my father ; therefore, die. So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
[Stabs him. Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers, Rut. Dii faciant, laudis summa sit ista tuæ ! York. O Clifford, but bethink thee once
[Dies. again, Clif. Plantagenet ! I come, Plantagenet ! And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade, And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face, Shall rust upon my weapon, till
thy blood, And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with Congeald with this, do make me wipe off both. cowardice,
[this. [Exit. Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere SCENE IV.-Another part of the plains.
Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for
word, Alarum. Enter York.
But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. York. The army of the queen hath got the
(Draws. field :
Q. Mar. Hold, valiant Clifford! for a My uncles both are slain in rescuing me ;
thousand causes And all my followers to the eager foe
I would prolong a while the traitor's life.Turn back, and fly, like ships before the wind, Wrath makes him deaf : speak thou, NorthOr lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves. umberland.
(so much My sons, -God knows what hath bechanced North. Hold, Clifford ; do not honour him them,
(selves To prick thy finger, though to wound his But this I know,--they have demean'd them- heart : Like men born to renown by life or death. What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, Three times did Richard make a lane to me; For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, And thrice cried, -" Courage, father! fight it when he might spurn him with his foot away? out!"
It is war's prize to take all vantages ; And full as oft came Edward to my side, And ten to one is no impeach of valour. With purple faulchion, painted to the hilt
[They lay hands on York, who struggles. In blood of those that had encounter'd him : Clif. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with And when the hardiest warriors did retire, Richard cried, -" Charge! and give no foot North. So doth the coney struggle in the of ground !"
[York is taken prisoner. " A crown, or eise a glorious tomb! York. So triumph thieves upon their conA sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!"
match'd. With this, we charg'd again : but, out, alas ! So true men yield, with robbers so o'erWe body'd again : as I have seen a swan North. What would your grace have done With bootless labour swim against the tide,
unto him now. And spend her strength with over-matching Q. Mar. Brave warriors, Clifford and North
(d short alarum within. umberland, Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue ; Come, make him stand upon this molehill And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury :
[arnis, And were I strong, I would not shun their That raught at mountains with outstretched fury.
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
What! was it you that would be England's Of both the Sicils, and Jerusalem ; king ?
Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult! And made a preachment of your high descent? It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud Where are your mess of sons to back you now ? Unless the adage must be verified,
queen; The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? That beggars mounted run their horse to death. And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, 'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud ; Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small : Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies ? 'Tis virtue that doth make them most admir'd ; Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rut. The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: land ?
(blood "Tis government that makes them seem divine ; Look, York : I stain'd this napkin with the The want thereof makes thee abominable : That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, Thou art as opposite to every good, Made issue from the bosom of the boy ; As the Antipodes are unto us, And if thine eyes can water for his death, Or as the south to the septentrion. I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. O tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the I should lament thy miserable state.
To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, (child, I pr’ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York. And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; entrails,
Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseThat not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
[thy wish: Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be Bidd'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast mad ;
Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. thy will ; Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and For raging wind blows up incessant showers, dance.
[sport : And when the rage allays, the rain begins. Thou wouldst be seed, I see, to make me These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies; York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. And every drop cries vengeance for his death, A crown for York !-and, lords, bow low to 'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false him :
(me so, Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. North. Beshrew me, but his passions move
[Putting a paper crown on his head. That hardly can I check my eyes from tears. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! York. That face of his the hungry cannibals Ay, this is he that took king Henry's chair ; Would not have touch'd, would not have And this is he was his adopted heir.
stain'd with blood : But how is it that great Plantagenet
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, — Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn cath? O, ten times more, -than tigers of Hyrcania. As I hethink me, you should not be king See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: Till our king Henry had shook hands with | This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet death.
boy, And will you pale your head in Henry's glory. And I with tears do wash the blood away. And rob his temples of the diadem,
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: Now in his life, against your holy oath?
[Giving back the handkerchuf. o'tis a fault too, too unpardonable.
And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, Off with the crown ; and, with the crown, his Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears ; head;
(dead. Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him And say,-" Alas, it was a piteous deed!" -
Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake. There, take the crown, and, with the crown, Q. Mar. Nay, stay ; let's hear the orisons
my curse : he makes.
(wolves of France, And, in thy need, such comfort come to thee, York. She-wolf of France, but worse than As now I reap at thy too cruel hand ! Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex [tooth ! My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! To triumph, like an Amazonian trull,
North. Had he been slaughter-man to all Upon their woes whom fortune captivates ! But that thy face is, visor-like, unchanging, I should not, for my life, but weep with him, Made impudent with use of evil deeds, To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. I would assay, proud queen, to make thee e Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord blush !
(riv'd, Northumberland ? To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom de- Think but upon the wrong he did us all, Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. not shameless.
Clif. Here's for my oath, here's for my Thy father bears the type of king of Naples, father's death.
Q. Mar. And here's to right our gentle-U pon my target three fair shining suns. hearted king.
(Stabbing him. Rich. Nay, bear three daughters : by your York. Open thy gate of mercy, gracious
leave I speak it, God!
You love the breeder better than the male. My soul flies through these wounds to seek out
Enter a Messenger. thee.
[Dies. But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set in on Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? York gates;
Mess, Ah, one that was a woful looker-on, So York may overlook the town of York. When as the noble duke of York was slain, [Flourish. Exeunt. Your princely father, and my loving lord.
Edw. O, speak no more! for I have heard too much.
(all. Rich. Say, how he died, for I will hear it ACT II.
Mess. Environèd he was with many foes ; SCENE I.-A Plain near Mortimer's Cross in And stood against them, as the hope of Trov Herefordshire.
Against the Greeks that would have enter d
Troy. Drums. Enter Edward and Richard, with But Hercules himself must yield to odds ; their forces, marching.
And many strokes, though with a little axe, Edw. I wonder how our princely father Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. 'scap'd,
By many hands your father was subdu'd ; Or whether he be 'scap'd away, or no, But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: Of unrelenting Clifford, and the queen, Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the Who crown'd the gracious duke in high de[news; spite;
(wept, Had he been slain, we should have heard the Laugh'd in his face ; and when with grief he Or had he 'scap'd, methinks we should have The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks, heard
A napkin steeped in the harmless blood The happy tidings of his good escape.--- Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford How fares my brother? why is he so sad ?
slain : Rich. I cannot joy, until I be resolvid And after many scorns, many foul taunts, Where our right valiant father is become. They took his head, and on the gates of York I saw him in the battle range about ;
They set the same; and there it doth remain, And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. Methought he bore him in the thickest troop, Edw. Sweet duke of York, our prop to lean As doth a lion in a herd of neat ;
upon, Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay! Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford ! thou hast slain The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. The flower of Europe for his chivalry : So far'd our father with his enemies ;
And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, So fied his enemies my warlike father : For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son.
thee! See how the morning opes her golden gates, Now my soul's palace is become a prison : And takes her farewell of the glorious sun ! Ah, would she break from hence, that this my How well resembles it the prime of youth,
body Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love! Might in the ground be closed up in rest; Edw. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three For never henceforth shall I joy again, suns?
(fect sun; Never, O never, shall I see more joy. Rich. Three glorious suns, each one a per- Rich. I cannot weep, for all my body's Not separated with the racking clouds,
(heart : But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great As if they vow'd some league inviolable :
burden ; Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. For self-same wind, that I should speak withal, In this the heaven figures some event.
Is kindling coals that fire all my breast, Edw. 'l'is wondrous strange, the like yet And burn me up with flames, that tears would never heard of.
quench. I think it cites us, brother, to the field; To weep is to make less the depth of grief : That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, Tears, then, for babes ; blows and revenge for Each one already blazing by our meeds,
me ! Should, notwithstanding, join our lights to- Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, gether,
Or die renowned by attempting it. And over-shine the earth, as this the world. Edw. His name that valiant duke hath left Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
His dukedom and his chair with me is left. Edw. Where is the duke of Norfolk, gentle Rich, Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's Warwick ?
And when came George from Burgundy to Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun : War. Some six miles off the duke is with For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom the soldiers ; say ;
And for your brother, he was lately sent Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. From your kind aunt, duchess of Burgundy, March. Enter Warwick and Montague, With aid of soldiers to this needful war. with forces.
Rich. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant War. How now, fair lords! What fare? Warwick fled : what news abroad?
(recount Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, Rich. Great lord of Warwick, if we should But e'er, till now, his scandal of retire. Our baleful news, and at each word's deliv'r- War. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost ance,
thou hear ;
of mine Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, For thou shalt know, this strong right hand The words would add more anguish than the Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, wounds.
And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, O valiant lord, the duke of York is slain. Were he as famous, and as bold in war, Edw. O Warwick, Warwick! that Planta- As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer. genet,
(tion, Rich. I know it well, Lord Warwick; Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemp- blame me not: Is by the stern lord Clifford done to death. "Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. War. Ten days ago I drown'd these news But, in this troublous time, what's to be done? in tears;
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, And now, to add more measure to your woes, And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, I come to tell you things sith then befallen. Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads? After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, Or shall we on the helmets of our foes Where your brave father breath'd his latest Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? gasp,
If for the last, say--Ay, and to it, lords. Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, War. Why, therefore Warwick came to Were brought me of your loss, and his depart. seek you out; I, then in London, keeper of the king, And therefore comes my brother Montague. Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, And very well appointed, as I thought, With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, March'd towards St. Albans to intercept the And of their feather many more proud binds, Bearing the king in my behalf along ; [queen, Have wrought the easy-melting king like war. For by my scouts I was advertisėd,
He swore consent to your succession, That she was coming with a full intent His oath enrolled in the parliament; To dash our late decree in parliament, [sion. And now to London all the crew are gone, Touching king Henry's oath, and your succes. To frustrate both his oath, and what beside Short tale to make, -we at St. Albans met, May make against the house of Lancaster. Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: fought :
Now, if the help of Norfolk, and myself, But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, With all the friends, that thou, brave earl of Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, March, That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, Or whether 'twas report of her success ; Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, Why, Via! to London will we márch amain : Who thunders to his captives -- blood and And once again bestride our foaming steeds, death,
And once again cry-Charge upon our foes! I cannot judge: but, to conclude with truth, But never once again turn back and fly. Their weapons like to lightning came and went; Rich. Ay, now methinks I hear great WarOur soldiers'-like the night-owl's lazy flight,
wick speak : Or like a lazy thresher with a flail,
Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. That cries—Retire, if Warwick bid him stay. I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, Edw. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will With promise of high pay, and great rewards: I lean :
hour!) But all in vain ; they had no heart to fight, And when thou fail'st, (as God forbid the And we, in them, no hope to win the day ; Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! So that we fled ; the king unto the queen ; War. No longer earl of March, but duke Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself, of York : In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you; The next degree is, England's royal throne ; For in the marches here, we heard, you were, For king of England shalt thou be proclaim'd Making another head to fight again.
In every borough as we pass alongi