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Must Edward fall, which peril heaven fore-Should lose his birthright by his father's fault? ferd!
And long hereafter say unto his child,War. No longer earl of March, but duke of What my great-grundfather and grand-sire got,
My careless father fondly* gave away? The next degree is, England's royal throne: Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; For king of England shalt thou be proclaim'd And let his manly face, which promiseth, In every borough as we pass along;
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart, And he, that throws not up his cap for joy, To hold thine own, and leave thine own with Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
him. King Edward,-valiant Richard,-Monta- K. Hen. Full well bath Clifford play'd the gue,
orator, Stay we no longer dreaming of renown, Inferring arguments of mighty force. But sound the trumpets, and about our task. But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard That things ill got had ever bad success? as steel,
And happy always was it for that son, (As thou hast shown it flipty by thy deeds,) Whose father for his hoarding went to hell ? come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; Edw. Then strike up, drums;-God, and And 'would my father had left me no more! Saint George, for us!
For all the rest is held at such a rate,
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep, Enter a MessENGER.
Than in possession any jot of pleasure. War. How. now? What news?
Ah, cousin York! 'would thy best friends did Mess. The duke of Norfolk sends you word
How it doth grieve me that thy head is here ! The queen is coming with a puissant host;
Q. Mar. My lord, cheer up your spirits! Our And craves your company for speedy counsel.
foes are nigh,
[fairt. War. Why then it sorts, * brave warriors : | And this soft courage makes your followers
[Exeunt. You promised knighthood to our forward son;
Unsheath your sword, and dub him present-
K. Hen. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; Enter King Henry, Queen MARGARET, the And learn this lesson, --Draw thy sword in Prince of WALES, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUM
right. BERLAND, with Forces,
Prince. My gracious father, by your kingly
I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, (leave Q. Mar. Welcome, my lord, to this brave And in that quarrel use it to the death.
town of York:Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy,
Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward
Enter a MesSENGER.
Mess. Royal commanders, be in readiness; fear their wreck; To see this sight, it irks my very soul.-
Comes Warwick, backing of the duke of York; Withhold revenge, dear God! 'uis not my fault, And, in the towns as they do march along, Not wittingly have I infringed my vow.
Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: Clif. My gracious liege, this too much lenity Darraign your battlet for they are at hand. And harmful pity, must be laid aside.
Clif. I would, your highness would depart To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
(sent. Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
The queen hath best success when you are abWhose band is that the forest bear doth lick?
Q. Mar. Ay, good, my lord, and leave us to Not his, that spoils her young before her face.
our fortune. Who’scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
K. Hen. Why, that's my fortune too; thereNot he, that sets his foot upon her back.
fore I'll stay. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on;
North. Be it with resolution then to fight. And doves will peck, in safeguard of their
Prince. My royal father, cheer these noble brood.
lords, Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
And hearten those that fight in your defence: Thou smiling, while he kuit bis angry brows:
Unsheath your sword, good father; cry St. He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
March.-Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
WARWICK, NORFOLK, Montague, and Sole
diers. Which argued thee a most unloving father. Unreasonable creatures feed their young:
Edw. Now, perjured Henry! Wilt thou kneel And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, and set thy diadem upon my head; Yet, in protection of their tender ones, Who hath not seen them (even with those Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? wings
Q. Mar. Go rate thy minions, proud insultWhich sometime they have used with fearful
ing boy! Make war with him that climb'd unto their Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms, nest,
(fence? Before thy sovereign, and thy lawful king ? Offering their own lives in their young's de
Edw. I am his king, and he should bow his For shame, my liege, make them your prece.
I was adopted heir by his consent: [knee; Were it not pity, that this goodly boy dent! Since when, his oath'is broke; for, as I hear,
You-that are king, though he do wear the Whose father bears the title of a king,
(As if a channel* should be callid the sea,) Have caused him, by new act of parliament, Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art To blot out me, and put his own son in.
extraught, Clif. And reason too;
To let thy tongue detect+ thy base-born heart? Who should succeed the father, but the son? Edw. A wisp of straw were worth a thouRich. Are you there, butcher?-0, I cannot
sand crowns, speak.
To make this shameless callett know herself.Clif. Ay, crook-back; here I stand, to an- Helen pf Greece was fairer far than thou, swer thee,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus :S Or any he the proudcst of thy sort.
And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd Rich. "Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, By that false woman, as this king by thee. was it not?
His father revell’d in the heart of France, Clif. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. And tamed the king, and made the dauphin Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to
stoop; the fight.
And, had he match'd according to his state, War. What say'st thou, Heary, wilt thou He might have kept that glory to this day: yield the crown?
But, when he took a beggar to his bed, Q. Mar. Why, bow now long-tongued War- And graced thy poor sire with his bridal day; wick? Dare you speak?
Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for When you and I met at St. Albans last,
[France, Your legs did better service than your hands. That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of War. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis Ard heap'd sedition on his crown at home. thine.
For what broach'd this tumult, but thy pride? Clif. You said so much before, and yet you Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; fied.
And we, in pity of the gentle king, War. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove Had slipp'd our claim until another age. me thence.
Geo. But, when we saw our sunshine made North. No, nor your manhood, that durst
thy spring, make you stay.
And that thy summer bred us no increase, Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reve- We set the axe to thy usurping root: (selves, rently !
And though the edge hath something hit our: Break off the parle; for scarce I can refrain Yet, know thou since we have begun to strike, The execution of my big-swollen heart We'll never leave, till we have hewn theé Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
down, *Clif. I slew thy father: call'st thou him a Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. child?
Edw. And, in this resolution, I defy thee; Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous Not willing any longer conference, coward,
Since thou deny'st the gentle king to speak.As thou didst kill onr tender brother Rutland; Sound trumpeis !—Let our bloody colours But, ere sun-set, I'll make thee curse the deed.
wave! K. Hen. Have done with words, my lords, And either victory, or else a grave. and hear me speak.
Q. Mar. Stay, Edward. Q. Mar. Defy them then, or else hold close Edw. No, wrangling woman; we'll no longthy lips.
er stay: K. Hen. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my These words will cost ten thousand lives to I am a king, and privileged to speak. (tongue; day.
(Ereunt. Clif. My liege, the wound, that bred this meeting here,
SCENE III.--A Field of Battle between TouCannot be cured by words; therefore be still.
ton and Saxton in Yorkshire. Rich. Then executioner, unsheath thy sword: By him that made us all, I am resolved,
Alarums: Excursions.Enter WARWICK. That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. War. Forspent with toil, as runners with a Edw. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or
I lay me down a little while to breathe: A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, For strokes received, and many blows repaid, That ne'er shall dine, unless thou yield the Have robb’d my strong-knit sinews of their
strength, War. If thou deny, their blood upon thy And, spite of spite, needs must I rest a while.
head; For York in justice puts his armour on.
Enter EDWARD, running. Prince. If that be right, which Warwick says is right,
Edw. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, unThere is no wrong, but every thing is right.
(clouded. Rich. Whoever got thee, there thy mother For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is stands;
War. How now, my lord? What hap? What For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue.
hope of good ? Q. Mar. But thou art neither like thy sire,
Enter GEORGE. nor dam; But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,
Geo. Our hap is loss, our hope but sad des: Mark'd by the destiniest to be avoided,
pair; As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. Our ranks are broke, and rujn follows us:
Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,+ | What counsel give you, whither shall we fy? * It is my firm persuasion.
* Kennel was then pronounced channel. + One branded by nature.
+ To show thy meanness of birth by thy indecent rail. Gilt is a superficial covering of gold.
Tic. A cuckold.
ing. 1 Drab.
Edw. Bootless is flight, they follow us with | And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and wings;
And so, have at thee.
[They fight,WARWICK enters; CLIFFORD Fies. Rich. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou with- Rich. Nay, Warwick, single out some other drawn thyself?
chase; Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. drunk, [lance:
(Ereunt. Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's And, in the very pangs of death, he cried,- SCENE V.-Another part of the Field. Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
Alarum.- Enter King HENRY. Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death!
K. Hen. This battle fares like to the mornSo underneath the belly of their steeds, That stain’d their fetlocks in his smoking When dying clouds contend with growing
[ligbi; blood, The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.
What time the shepherd, blowing of his Dails, War. Then let the earth be drunken with Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea,
Can neither call it perfect day, or night. our blood :
Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. Why stand we like soft hearted women here,
Now sways it that way, like the self-same sea, Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage;
Forced to retire by fury of the wind : [wind; And look upon, as if the tragedy
Sometime, the flood prevails; and then, the
Now, one the better; then, another best; Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, Here on my knee I vow to God above,
Yet neither conqueror, nor conquered: I'll never pause again, never stand still, Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine, Here on this molehill will I sit me down.
So is the equal poise of the fell war. Or fortune given me measure of revenge. Edw. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with To whom God will, there be the vietory!
For Margaret, my queen, and Clifford too, thine; And, in this vow, do chain my soul to thine.- Have chid me from the battle; swearing bour, And ere iny buee rise from the earth's cold 'Would I were dead! if God's good will were
They prosper best of all when I am thence. face,
[thee, I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to For what is in this world, but grief and wee! Thou setter up and plucker down of kings!
() God! metbinks, it were a happy life, Beseeching thee,--if with thy will it stands, That to my foes this body must be prey,
To be no better than a homely swain; Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope,
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point by poin', And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run: Where'er it be, in heaven, or on earth.
How many make the hour full complete, Rich. Brother, give me thy hand;-and gen- How many days will finish up the year,
How many hours bring about the day, tle Warwick, Let me embrace thee in my weary arms :
How many years a mortal man may lire.
When this is known, then to divide the times: I, that did never weep, now melt with woe, That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
So many hours must I tend my flock; War. Away, away! Once more, sweet lords, So many hours must I cou template;
So many hours must I take my rest; farewell. Geo. Yet let us all together to our troops,
So many hours must I sport myself; And give them leave to fly that will not stay;
So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; And call them pillars, that will stand to us; And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and
So many years ere I shall sheer the fleece: As victors wear at the Olympian games : This may plant courage in their quailingt Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. For yet is hope of life, and victory.
Ah, what a life were this! How sweei! How Fore-slowt no longer, make we hence amain.
Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade SCENE IV.—The same.-- Another part of the To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep,
Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? Excursions.- Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD.
O, yes, it doth; a thousand fold it doth. Rich. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee And to conclude,- The shepherd's bomely alone :
curds, Suppose, this arm is for the duke of York,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here Is far beyond a prince's delicates. alone :
His viands sparkling in a golden cup, This is the hand, that stabb'd thy father York: His body couched in a curious bed, [him And this the hand, that slew thy brother Rut. When care, mistrust, and treason wait on land:
[death, And here's the heart, that triumphs in their
Alaruin.-Enter a Son that has killed his Fit
ther, dragging in the dead Body. * And are mere spectators. + Sinking into dejection
Son. Ill blows the wind, that profits no To fore-slow is to be dilatory, to loiter,
This man, whom hand in hand I slew in fight, Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep May be possessed with some store of crowns:
(Esrit with the Body. And I, that haply take them from him now, Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy windMay yet ere night, yield both iny life and them
ing sheet; To some man else, as this dead inan doth to My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre ;
For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go. Who's this ?-0 God! it is my father's face, My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; Whom in this conflict I unawares have kill'd. And so obsequious will thy father be, O beavy times, begetting such events! Sad for the loss of thee, having no more, From London by the king was I press'd forth; As Priam was for all his valiant sons. [will, My father, being the earl of Warwick's man, I'li bear thee hence; and let them fight that Came on the part of York, press'd by his For I have murder'd where I should not kill. master;
(Exit with the Body. And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life, K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone Have by my hands of life bereaved him.Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did !- Here sits a king more woeful than you are. And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; Alarums: Excursions.--Enter Queen MARGAAnd no more words till they have flow'd their
RET, Prince of Wales, and Exeter. fill. K. Hen, 0 piteous spectacle! O bloody
Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends times !
are fled, Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens,
And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.
Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thce tear for
Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord, towards Ber
wick post amain; tear:
[hounds, And let our hearts, and eyes, like civil war,
Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyBe blind with tears, and break o'ercharged Having the fearful flying hare in sight, with grief.
With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,
And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, Enter a Father who hath killed his Son, with Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain!
Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along the Body in his Arms.
with them: Fath. Thou that so stoutly had resisted me,
Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; Give me thy gold, if thon hast any gold;
Or else come after, P'll away before. For I have bought it with a hundred blows.
K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet But let me see:- Is this our foeman's face?
Not that I fear to stay, but love to go
Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers
[Exeunt. arise, Blown with the windy tempest of my heart,
SCENE VI.-The same. Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and A loud Alarum.-Enter CLIFFORD, wounded.
heart! 0, pity, God, this miserable age!
Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it What stratagems,* how fell, how butcherly,
dies, Erroneous, mutinons, and unnatural,
Which, while it lasted, gave king Henry light. This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!
0, Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow, O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
More than my body's parting with my soul. And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!
My love, and fear, glew'd many friends to K. Hen. Woe above woe! Grief more than
thee; common grief!
[deeds! - And, now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt. o, that my death would stay these ruthful Impairing Henry, strength’ning mis-proud O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity ;
York, 'I he red rose and the white are on his face,
The common people swarın like summer flies: The fatal colours of our striving houses :
And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun ? The one his purple blood right well resembles; And who shines now, but Henry's enemies ? The other, his pale cheek, methinks, present : That Phaëton should check thy fiery steeds,
( Phoebus! hadst thou never given consent Wither one rose, and let the other flourish! If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth : Šon. How will my mother, for a father's And, Henry,, hadst thou sway'd as kings
should do, death, Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied !
Or as thy father, and his father, did, Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of Giving no ground unto the house of York,
They never then had sprung like summer flies; my son, Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied ?
1, and ten thousand in this luckless realm, K. Hen. How will the country, for these Had left no mourning widows for our deaih, woeful chances,
And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in Misthink the king, and not be satisfied ?
peace. Son. Was ever son, so rued a father's death? For what doth cherish weeds, but gentle air? Fath. Was ever father, so bemoan'd a son ?
And what make robbers bold, but too much K. Hen. Was ever king, so grieved for sub-Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my
(wounds; jects' woe? Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much. No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:
The foe is merciless, and will not pity; * This word here means dreadful events.
For, at their hands, I have deserved no pity; Think unfavourably of,
The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
And much effuse of blood doth make me Rich. Wbat, not an oath? Nay, then the faint:
[oath:Come, York, and Richard, Warwick, and the When Clifford cannot spare his friends an I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. I know by that, he's dead; and, by my soul,
[He faints. If this right hand would buy two hours' lite,
That I in all despite might rail at him, Alarum and Retreat.—Enter Edward, George, This hand should chop it off; and with the isRICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Sol
suing blood diers.
Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy. Edw. Now breathe we, lords; good fortune War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traibids us pause,
tor's head, And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful And rear it in the place your father's stands.Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen; And now to London with triumphant march, That led calm Henry, though he were a king, There to be crowned England's royal king. As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to Command an argosy to stem the waves.
France, But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with | And ask the lady Bona for thy queen: them?
So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape; And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not For, though before his face I speak the words,
dread Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave; The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again; And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
[CLIFFORD groans und dies. Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears. Edw. Whose sout is that which takes her First, will I see the coronation; heavy leave?
And then to Britanny I'll cross the sea, Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. departing
Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, le Edw. See who it is: and now the battle's
it be: ended,
For on thy shoulder do I build my seat; If friend, or foe, let him be gently used. And never will I undertake the thing, Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.Clifford;
Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster;Who, not contented that he lopp'd the branch, And George, of Clarence;-Warwick, as our. In hewiog Rutland when his leaves put forth,
selt, But set his murdering knife unto the root Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best. From whence that tender spray did sweetly Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence, George spring,
of Gloster; I mean our princely father, duke of York. For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous. War. From off the gates of York fetch down War. Tut, that's a foolish observation; the head,
Richard be duke of Gloster: now to London, Your father's head, which Clifford placed there: To see these honours in possession. [Exeunt. Instead whereof, let this supply the room; Measure for measure must be answered.
ACT NI. Edw. Bring forth this fatal screech-owl to
SCENE 1.- A Chase in the North of England. our house, That nothing sung but death to us and ours : Enter Twu KEEPERS, with Cross-bows in their Now death shall stop his dismal threatening
1 Keep. Under this thick-grown brake* we'll And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. shroud ourselves;
(come; [Attendants bring the Body forward. For through this laundt'anon the deer will War. I think bis understanding is bereft:- And in this covert will we make our stand, Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to Culling the principal of all the deer. thee?
2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
shoot, And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say. Rich. O, 'would he did! And so, perhaps, he
1 Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy
cross-bow "Tis but his policy to counterfeit, (doth; Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
Here stand we both and aim we at the best: Which in the time of death he gave our father. And, for the time shall not seem tedious, Geo. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager I'll tell thee what besell me on a day, words.*
Iu this self-place where now we mean to stand. Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no
2 Keep. Here comes a man, let's stay till be gráce. Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. Enter King HENRY, disguised, with a PrayerGeo. While we devise fell tortures for thy
book. faults. Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to
K. Hen. From Scotland am I stolen, even of York.
pure love, Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee. To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. Geo. Where's captain Margaret to fence you No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; now?
Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, War. They mock thee, Clifford! Swear as Thy balm wash'd off, wherewith thou wast thou wast wont.
anointed: Sour words, words of asperity,
* Thicket. † A plain extendai betweet woods