ACT

SCENE I.-Coventry.

Enter upon the Walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others.

War. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?

How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

War. How far off is our brother Montague?Where is the post that came from Montague? 2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVILLE.

War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now! Som. At Southam I did leave him with his forces, And do expect him here some two hours hence. [Drum heard.

War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.

Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies: The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.

War. Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends.

Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly

know.

March. Flourish. Enter King EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.

Glo. See, how the surly Warwick mans the wall.

War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come? Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc'd, That we could hear no news of his repair?

K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates?

Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee, Call Edward king, and at his hands beg mercy, And he shall pardon thee these outrages.

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,

Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down?
Call Warwick patron, and be penitent,
And thou shalt still remain the duke of York.
Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said the
king;

Or did he make the jest against his will?

War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift? Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give : I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

War. 'Twas I, that gave the kingdom to thy brother.

K. Edw. Why then, 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight: And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:

And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this;
What is the body, when the head is off?

Glo. Alas! that Warwick had no more forecast,
But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.
K. Edw. 'Tis even so: yet you are Warwick

still.

Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.

Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.
War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other fling it at thy face,
Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee.
K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and

tide thy friend,

This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, Shall, whiles thy head is warm, and new cut off, Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,"Wind-changing Warwick now can change no

more."

Enter OXFORD, with drum and colours. War. O cheerful colours! see, where Oxford

comes.

Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[OXFORD and his Forces enter the City. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too. K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs. Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt, Will issue out again, and bid us battle: If not, the city being but of small defence, We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same. War. O! welcome Oxford, for we want thy help. Enter MONTAGUE, with drum and colours. Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster! [He and his Forces enter the City.

Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this

treason,

Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.

K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory:

My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest.
Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours.
Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the City.
Glo. Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset,
Have sold their lives unto the house of York;
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colours. War. And lo! where George of Clarence sweeps along,

Of force enough to bid his brother battle:
With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
More than the nature of a brother's love.-

[GLOSTER and CLARENCE whisper. Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick calls. Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? [Taking the red Rose out of his hat. Look here, I throw my infamy at thee: I will not ruinate my father's house, Who gave his blood to lime the stones together, And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,

That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war

44

Against his brother, and his lawful king?
Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath :
To keep that oath, were more impiety
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrific'd his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made,
That to deserve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad,)
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.-
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times
more belov'd,

Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.
Glo. Welcome, good Clarence: this is brother-
like.

War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust!
K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the
town, and fight,

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
War. Alas! I am not coop'd here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.

Lords, to the field! Saint George, and victory! [March. Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Field of Battle near Barnet. Alarums, and excursions. Enter King EDWARD, bringing in WARWICK wounded.

K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear,

For Warwick was a bug, that fear'd us all.-
Now, Montague, sit fast: I seek for thee,
That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.
[Exit.
War. Ah! who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe,
And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart
shows,

That I must yield my body to the earth,

And by my fall the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept;
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading

tree,

And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,

Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;

For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile when Warwick bent his
brow?

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length.
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and
dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
Enter OXFORD, and SOMERSET.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are,

We might recover all our loss again.

The queen from France hath brought a puissant power;

Even now we heard the news. Ah, could'st thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Montague!

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile.

Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst, Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood, That glues my lips, and will not let me speak. Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Som. Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breath'd

his last;

And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick,
And said- Commend me to my valiant brother."
And more he would have said; and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a cannon in a vault,
That might not be distinguish'd: but, at last,
I well might hear, deliver'd with a groan,-
"O, farewell Warwick!"

War. Sweet rest his soul!-Fly, lords, and save yourselves;

For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven. [Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt, bearing off WARWICK's body.

SCENE III.-Another part of the Field. Flourish. Enter King EDWARD in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest.

K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward

course,

And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:

I mean, my lords, those powers, that the queen
Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud, And blow it to the source from whence it came: Thy very beams will dry those vapours up, For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Glo. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong, And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her : If she have time to. breathe, be well assur'd, Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving friends, That they do hold their course toward Tewkesbury,

We, having now the best at Barnet field,

Will thither straight, for willingness rids way; And, as we march, our strength will be augmented

In every county as we go along.— Strike up the drum! cry-Courage! and away. [Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Plains near Tewkesbury.

March. Enter Queen MARGARET, Prince EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers.

Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,

But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown over-board,
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood;
Yet lives our pilot still: is't meet that he
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea,

And give more strength to that which hath too much;

Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
Ah! what a shame, ah! what a fault were this.
Say, Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Montague our top-mast; what of him?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; what of these?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor,
And Somerset another goodly mast?

The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm to sit and weep,

But keep our course, though the rough wind say

no,

From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.

As good to chide the waves, as speak them fair.
And what is Edward but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim; alas! 'tis but a while :

Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink:

Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish; that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
If case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and
rocks.

Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
'Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.

Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, Infuse his breast with magnanimity,

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this, as doubting any here;
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes,
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as God forbid !
Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage,
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.—
O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee: long may'st thou live,
To bear his image, and renew his glories!

Som. And he, that will not fight for such a hope,

Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset :-sweet
Oxford, thanks.

Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand,

Ready to fight: therefore, be resolute.

Orf. I thought no less: it is his policy, To haste thus fast to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd: we are in readiness. Q. Mar. This cheers my heart to see your forwardness.

Oxf. Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.

Flourish and march. Enter King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces.

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,

Which, by the heavens' assistance and your strength,

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.

I need not add more fuel to your fire,

For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out.

Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say,

My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of my eye.
Therefore, no more but this:-Henry, your sove-
reign,

Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
His realm a slaughterhouse, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent ;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies.

SCENE V.-Another part of the Same. Alarums: excursions: and afterwards a retreat. Then enter King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET, OxFORD, and SOMERSET, Prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.

Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.

Go, bear them hence: I will not hear them speak. Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.

Som. Nor I; but stoop with patience to my for

tune.

[Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded. Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world, To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

K. Edw. Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward

Shall have a high reward, and he his life?

Glo. It is: and, lo! where youthful Edward

comes.

Enter Soldiers, with Prince EDWARD.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant: let us hear him speak.

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make,
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?

Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious
York.

Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth:
Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee,
Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd!
Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat,
And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.
161*

Prince. Let Esop fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place. Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word.

Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to

men.

Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold. Prince. Nay, take away this scolding crook-back, rather.

K. Edw. Peace! wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. Prince. I know my duty: you are all undutiful. Lascivious Edward,-and thou perjur'd George, And thou mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all, I am your better, trajtors as ye are ;And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer here.

[Stabs him. Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy agony. [GLOSTER stabs him. Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury. [CLARENCE stabs him.

Q. Mar. O, kill me too!
Glo. Marry, and shall.

[Offers to kill her. K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold! for we have done too much.

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with words?

K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king, my brother.

I'll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower! the Tower!

[Exit.