ment. Queen. Call hither Clifford bid him come amain, To say if that the bastard boys of York Shall be the surety for their traitor father. [Exit Buckingham. York. O blood-besotted Neapolitan, Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge ! The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those That for my surety will refuse the boys! 121 Enter EDWARD and RICHARD. See where they come I'll warrant they'll make it good. Enter old CLIFFORD and his Son. Queen. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. Clif Health and all happiness to my lord the king! [Kneels. York. I thank thee, Clifford say, what news with thee? Nay, do not fright us with an angry look ; We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again; For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee. Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake; But thou mistakest me much to think I do : 130 To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad? King. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambi tious humor Makes him oppose himself against his king. Clif. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower, And chop away that factious pate of his. Queen. He is arrested, but will not obey; His sons, he says, shall give their words for him. York. Will you not, sons? Edw. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons shall. 140 Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! [so: York. Look in a glass, and call thy image I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor. Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, That with the very shaking of their chains They may astonish these fell-lurking curs Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me. Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALIS BURY. Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death. Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves. 160 King. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles? self Sal. It is great sin to swear unto a sin, But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. Who can be bound by any solemn vow To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, To force a spotless virgin's chastity, To reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her custom'd right, And have no other reason for this wrong But that he was bound by a solemn oath ? 19 Queen. A subtle traitor needs no sophister King. Call Buckingham, and bid him arı himself. York. Call Buckingham, and all the friend thou hast, I am resolved for death or dignity. Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dream [agai prove true. War You were best to go to bed and drea To keep thee from the tempest of the field. Clif. I am resolved to bear a greater stor Than any thou canst conjure up to-day; And that I'll write upon thy burgonet. Might I but know thee by thy household badge. War. Now, by my father's badge, old The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff, And tread it under foot with all contempt, Rich. Fie charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. Rich. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in SCENE II. Saint Alban's. And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me: Proad northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. Enter YORK. How now, my noble lord! what, all afoot? York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, Bat match to match I have encounter'd him 10 And made a prey for carrion kites and crows Even of the bonny beast he loved so well. Enter old CLIFFORD. War. Of one or both of us the time is come. York, Hold. Warwick, seek thee out some other chase, For I myself must hunt this deer to death. War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st. As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day, [Exit. Whom angry heavens do make their minister, O, let the vile world end, To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, 40 And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight My heart is turn'd to stone and while 'tis mine, 50 It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; 60 [Exit, bearing off his father. Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed. Rich. So, lie thou there; For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset Hath made the wizard famous in his death. Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still: 70 Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [Exit. Fight: excursions. Enter KING, QUEEN, and others. Queen. Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away! King. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay. Queen. What are you made of? you'll nor fight nor fly: Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence, By what we can, which can no more but fly. May leadily be stopp'd. Re-enter young CLIFFORD. Y. Clif. But that my heart's on future mischief set, I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly : SCENE III. Fields near St. Alban's. Rich. My noble father, Three times to-day I holp him to his horse God knows how long it is I have to live; And it hath pleased him that three times to-day You have defended me from imminent death. Well, lords, we have not got that which we have: 20 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, Being opposites of such repairing nature. York. I know our safety is to follow them; For, as I hear, the king is fled to London, To call a present court of parliament. Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth. What says Lord Warwick ? shall we after them ? [can. 30 War. After them! nay, before them, if we Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day: Saint Alban's battle won by famcus York Shall be eternized in all age to come. Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all: Ar more such days as these to us befall! [Exeunt SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. Alarum. Enter the DUKE OF YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers. War. I wonder how the king escaped our hands. York. While we pursued the horsemen of the north, He slily stole away and left his men: Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. Edw. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Puckingham, 10 Is either slain or wounded dangerously; Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. [Throwing down the Duke of Somerset's head York. Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset ? Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. 20 War. And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, Before I see thee seated in that throne For hither we have broken in by force. Norf We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. 30 York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. [They go up. War. And when the king comes, offer him no violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. 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. Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. War. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, 40 And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice Hath made us by-words to our enemies. York. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; I mean to take possession of my right. War. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, Ere. Thy father was a traitor to the crown. War. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown In following this usurping Henry. 81 Clif. Whom should he follow but his natural king? War. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. K. Ilen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in iny throne? York. It must and shall be so: content thyself. War. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. West. He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget That we are those which chased you from the field 90 And slew your fathers, and with colors spread March'd through the city to the palace gates. North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. West. 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 Clif. Ürge it no more; lest that, instead of words, I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir. 10 War. Poor Clifford ! how I scorn his worth less threats! |