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And tam'd the king, and made the Dauphin stoop;
And, had he match'd according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day :
But, when he took a beggar to his bed,
And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day;
Even then that sun-shine brew'd a shower for him,
That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France,
And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
For what hath broach'd this tumult, but thy pride?
Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
And we, in pity of the gentle king,
Had slipt our claim until another age.

Cla. But, when we saw our sun-shine made
thy spring,

And that thy summer bred us no increase,
We set the axe to thy usurping root:
And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
Yet know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave, 'till we have hewn thee down,
Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.
Edo. And, in this resolution, I defy thee;
Not willing any further conference,
Since thou deny'st the gentle king to speak.-
Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave!-
And either victory, or else a grave.

Queen. Stay, Edward.

Edw. No, wrangling wonian, I'll no longer


Thy words will cost ten thousand lives to-day.


A Field of Battle, near Towton in Yorkshire.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Warwick.





So underneath the belly of their steeds,
That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.

War. Then let the earth be drunken with our

I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.
Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage:
And look upon, as if the tragedy

Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
Here on my knee I vow to God above,
I'll never pause again, never stand still,
'Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine,
Or fortune given me measure of revenge.
Edw. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with


And, in this vow, do chain my soul to thine.-
And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face,
20 Thou setter up, and plucker down of kings!
I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee,
Beseeching thee,-if with thy will it stands,
That to my foes this body must be prey,—
Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope,
And give sweet passage to my sinful soul!-
25 Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
Where-e'er it be, in heaven, or on earth.

Rich. Brother, give me thy hand :—and, gentle

Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:-
30, that did never weep, now melt with woe,
That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
War. Away, away! Once more, sweet lords,

Cla. Yet let us all together to our troops;

War. Forspent with toil, as runners with a 35 And give them leave to fly that will not stay;


I lay me down a little while to breathe:
For strokes receiv'd, and many blows repaid,
Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their


And, spight of spight, needs must I rest awhile.
Enter Edward, running.

Edw. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle


And call them pillars, that will stand to us; And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards As victors wear at the Olympian games: This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; 40 For yet is hope of life, and victory.Fore-slow no longer, make we hence amain. [Exeunt.

For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. 45
War. How now, my lord? what hap? what

hope of good?

Enter Clarence.

Cla. Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair;
Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us:
What counsel give you? whither shall we fly?
Edw. Bootless is flight, they follow us with

And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit.
Enter Richard.

Rich. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn

Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance:
And, in the very pangs of death, he cry'd,-
Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,-
"Warwick,revenge! brother,revenge my death!"

i. e. wasted, tired.



Another Part of the Field.
Excursions. Enter Richard, and Clifford.
Rich. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone:
Suppose, this arm is for the duke of York,
And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
50 Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.

Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone:
This is the hand, that stabb'd thy father York;
And this the hand, that slew thy brother Rutland;
And here's the heart, that triumphs in their death,
55 And cheers these hands, that slew thy sire and bro-
To execute the like upon thyself;
And so, have at thee.

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Another Part of the Field.

Alarum. Enter King Henry.

K. Henry. This battle fares like to the morn-
ing's war,

When dying clouds contend with growing light;
What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
Can neither call it perfect day, nor night.
Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea,
Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind:
Now sways it that way, like the self-same sea
Forc'd to retire by fury of the wind:
Sometime, the flood prevails; and then the wind;
Now, one the better; then, another best:
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
Yet neither conqueror, nor conquered:
So is the equal poise of this fell war.
Here on this mole-hill will I sit me down.
To whom God will, there be the victory!
For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
Have chid me from the battle; swearing both,
They prosper best of all when I am thence.
'Would I were dead! if God's good will were so:
For what is in this world, but grief and woe?
O God! methinks it were a happy life,
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,

To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run:
How many make the hour full complete,
How many hours bring about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the time:
So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my rest;
So many hours must I contemplate;
So many hours must I sport myself;

So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean;
So many months ere I shall sheer the fleece:
So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years,
Past over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how

Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep,
'I han doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery?
O, yes, it doth; a thousand fold it doth.
And to conclude,-the shepherd's homely curds,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,

When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.


Alarum. Enter a Son that had killed his Father.
Son. Ill blows the wind, that profits no-body.
This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight,
May be possessed of some store of crowns:
And I, that haply take them from him now,
May yet ere night yield both my life and them
To some man else, as this dead man doth me.-
Who's this?-Oh God! it is my father's face,
Whom in this conflict I unawares have kill'd.
10Oh heavy times, begetting such events!
From London by the king was I press'd forth;
My father, being the earl of Warwick's man,
Came on the part of York, press'd by his master;
And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life,
15 Have by my hands of life bereaved him.—
Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did!——
And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!—
My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks;
And no more words, 'till they have flow'd their
K. Henry. O piteous spectacle! O bloody
Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens,
Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.—
Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear;
25 And let our hearts, and eyes, like civil war,
Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharg'd with


Enter a Father, bearing his Son.

Fath. Thou that so stoutly bast resisted me,
30 Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold;
For I have bought it with an hundred blows.—
But let me see:-Is this our foeman's face?
Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son!—
Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,

35 Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise,
Blown with the windy tempest of my heart
Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart!-
O, pity, God, this miserable age!-
What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
0 Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural,
This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!-
O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
And hath bereft thee of thy life too late 2!


K. Henry. Woe above woe! grief more than
common grief!
O,that my death would stay these rueful deeds!—
O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity!

The red rose and the white are on his face,
The fatal colours of our striving houses:
50 The one, his purple blood right well resembles;
The other, his pale cheek, methinks, presenteth:
Wither one rose, and let the other flourish!
If you contend, a thousand lives must wither.

Son. How will my mother, for a father's death, 5 Take on with me, and ne'er be satisfy'd!

Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfy'd!

K. Henry. How will the country, for these woeful chances,

Co Mis-think the king, and not be satisfy'd!

The meaning of the king is, that the state of their hearts and eyes shall be like that of the kingdom in a civil war, all shall be destroyed by a power formed within themselves. 2 i. e. He should have Stone it by not bringing thee into being, to make both father and son thus miserable. To mis-think is to thank ill, unfavourably.


Son. Was ever son, so ru'd a father's death?
Fath. Was ever father, so bemoan'd his son?
K. Henry. Was ever king, so griev'd for sub-
jects' woe?

Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much.
Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep
my fill.
[Exit, with the body.
Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy wind-


My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre;
For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go.
My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
And so obsequious will thy father be,
Sad for the loss of thee, having no more,
As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
For I have murder'd where I should not kill.
[Exit, with the body.
K. Henry. Sad-hearted men, much overgone
with care,

Here sits a king more woeful than you are.
Alarums. Excursions. Enter the Queen, Prince
of Wales, and Exeter.


Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. Queen. Mount you, my lord, towards Berwick

post anain:

Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds
Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,
And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain.
Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with

Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed;
Or else come after, I'll away before. [Exeter.
K. Henry. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet
Not that I fear to stay, but love to go
Whither the queen intends. Forward; away!


A loud Alarum. Enter Clifford, wounded. Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies, Which, while it lasted, gave king Henry light. Ah, Lancaster! I fear thine overthrow, More than my body's parting with my soul. My love and fear glew'd many friends to thee; And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts, Impairing Henry, strength'ning mis-proud York. The common people swarm like summer flies: And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun? And who shines now, but Henry's enemy? O Phœbus! hadst thou never given consent That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds, Thy burning car had never scorch'd the earth: And, Henry,hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, And as thy father, and his father, did, Giving no ground unto the house of York, They never then had sprung like summer fliesI, and ten thousand in this luckless realm, Had left no mourning widows for our deaths,



And thou this day had'st kept thy throne in peace. For what doth cherish weeds, but gentle air? And what makes robbers bold, but too much lenity? Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: The foe is merciless, and will not pity; And, at their hands, I have deserv'd no pity. The air hath got into my deadly wounds, And much effuse of blood doth make me faint:10 Come, York, and Richard, Warwick, and the rest; I stabb'd your father's bosoms, split my breast. He faints. Alarum and Retreat. Enter Edward, Clarence, Richard, Montague, Warwick, and Soldiers. Edw. Now breathe we, lords; good fortune bids us pause, [looks.And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen ;That led calin Henry, though he were a king, 20 As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, Command an argosy to stem the waves. But think you, lords, that Clifford flew with them? War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape: For, though before his face I speak the word, Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave; And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. [Clifford groans, and dies. Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy [parting. Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's deEdw. See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, friend, or foe, let him be gently us'd. Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford :





35 Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, But set his murdering knife unto the root From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, I mean, our princely father, duke of York. War. Froin off the gates of York fetch down the head,


Your father's head, which Clifford placed there: Instead whereof, let his supply the room: Measure for measure must be answered. [house, 15 Edw. Bring forth that fatal scritch-owl to our That nothing sung but death to us and ours: Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. [Attendants bring the boy forward. War. I think his understanding is bereft:Say, Clifford,dost thou know who speaks to thee?— Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say.


Rich. O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; 55Tis but his policy to counterfeit,


Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
As in the time of death he gave our father.
Cla. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager

Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace.
Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
Cla. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.

! Obsequious here implies careful of obsequies, or of funeral rites. Rr 4

?i. e. Sour, harsh words.


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Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee.
Cla. Where's captain Margaret, to fence you
[wast wont.
War. They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou
Rich. What, not an oath nay, then the world
goes hard,


And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again;
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears.
First, will I see the coronation;

And then to Britany I'll cross the sea,

To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. [be;
Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it
For on thy shoulder do I build my seat;

10 And never will I undertake the thing,
Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.-
Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster;-
And George, of Clarence;-Warwick, as ourself,
Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.
Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George,
of Gloster;

When Chitford cannot spare his friends an oath:-
I know by that, he's dead; And, by my soul,
Would this right hand buy but an hour's life,
That I in all despight might rail at him,
I'd chop it off; and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain, whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy. [head,
War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's 15
And rear it in the place your father's stands.-
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king.
From thence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
And ask the lady Bona for thy queen:
So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;

For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous'.
War. Tut, that's a foolish observation:
Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London,
.0 To see these honours in possession.



A Wood in Lancashire.


Enter Sinklo, and Humphrey, with cross-bows in their hands.


130 K. Henry. Let me embrace these sour adversities;
For wise men say, it is the wisest course. [him.
Hum. Why linger we let us lay hands upon
Sink. Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.
K. Henry. My queen, and son, are gone to
France for aid;

Sink. UNDER this thick-grown brake we'll 35

shroud ourselves;


For through this laund anon the deer will come;
And in this covert will we make our stand,
Culling the principal of all the deer.

Hum. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
Sink. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best:
And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
I'll tell thee what befel me on a day,
In this self place where now we mean to stand.
Hum.Here comes a man, let's stay till he be past.

Enter King Henry, with a prayer-book.
K. Henry. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of
pure love,

To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;

And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister
To wife for Edward: If this news be true,
Poor queen, and son, your labour is but lost;
40 For Warwick is a subtle orator,

And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
By this account, then, Margaret may win him;
For she's a woman to be pity'd much:
Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;
45 Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tyger will be mild, while she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,

To hear, and see, her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ah, but she's come to beg; Warwick, to give:
50 She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry;
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and says-her Henry is depos'd;
He smiles, and says-his Edward is install'd;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength;
And, in conclusion, wins the king from her,
With promise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support king Edward's place.
Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn.

Thy place is fill'd, thy scepter wrung from thee,
Thy balm wash'd off, wherewith thou wast anoint-55
No bending knee will call thee Casar now, [ed:
No humble suitors press to speak for right,
No, not a man comes for redress to thee;
For how can I help them, and not myself? [fee:
Sink. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's
This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him.



Alluding, perhaps, (says Mr. Steevens,) to the deaths of Thomas of Woodstock, and Humphrey, dukes of Gloster. According to Hall and Holinshed, the name of the person who took King i. e. lawn.

Henry was Cantlowe.


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Hum. But, if thou be a king,where is thy crown: 10
K. Henry. My crown is in my heart, not on
my head;

Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd, content;
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.
Hum. Well, if you be a king crown'd with con-
Your crown content, and you, must be contented
To go along with us: for, as we think,
You are the king, king Edward hath depos'd;
And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy.

see the lady hath a thing to grant, Before the king will grant her humble suit. Clar, He knows the game; How true he keeps

the wind!

Glo. Silence!


K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit;
And come some other time, to know our mind.
Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay:
May it please your highness to resolve me now;
And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me.
Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you
all your lands,

[tent, 13
An if what pleases him, shall pleasure you.
Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.
Clar. [Aside.] I fear her not, unless she chance
Glo. [Aside.] God forbid that, for he'll take
K.Edw. How many children hast thou, widow?

[oath? K. Henry. But did you never swear, and break an Hum. No, never such an oath; nor will we now. K. Henry. Where did you dwell, when I was king of England?


[main. 25

Hum. Here in this country, where we now re-
K. Henry. I was anointed king at nine months
My father and my grandfather were kings; [old;
And you were sworn true subjects unto me:
And, tell me then, have you not broke your oaths: 30
Sink. No; for we were subjects but while you
[a man?

were king.


K. Henry. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe
Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear.
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Cominanded always by the greater gust;
Such is the lightness of you common men.
But do not break your oaths; for, of that sin
My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
And be you kings; command, and I'll obey.
Sink. We are true subjects to the king, king 45


K. Henry. So would you be again to Henry,
If he were seated as king Edward is. [the king's,
Sink. We charge you, in God's naine, and in
To go with us unto the officers. [be obey'd: 50
K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's name]
And what God will, that let your king perform;
And what he will, I humbly yield unto. [Exeunt.
London. The Palace.
Enter King Edward, Gloster, Clarence, and
Lady Grey.

K.Edw.Brother of Gloster, at Saint Alban's field
This lady's husband, Sir John Grey, was slain,
His land then seiz'd on by the conqueror:
Her suit is now, to repossess those lands;
Which we in justice cannot well deny,
Because in quarrel of the house of York
This noble gentleman did lose his life.


to fall.

tell me.

[of her. Clar. [Aside.] I think, he means to beg a child Glo. [Aside.] Nay, whip me then; he'll rather give her two.

Grey. Three, my most gracious lord. Glo. [Aside.] You shall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him. [ther's land. K. Edw. 'Twere pity they should lose their faGrey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. K. Edw. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit. [leave, Glo. Ay,good leave have you; for you will have Till youth take leave,and leave you to yourcrutch. [Gloster and Clarence retire to the other side. K. Edw. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

them good?

Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
K. Edw. And would you not do much to do
Grey. To do them good, I would sustain some
K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands to do
them good.

Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty.
K.Edw. I'lltell you how these lands are to be got.
Grey. So shall you bind me to your highness'



K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give
Grey. What you command, that rests in me to do.
K. Edw. But you will take exceptions to my


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Grey. Why stops my lord? shall I not hear

my task?

K. Edw. An casy task: 'tis but to love a king.
Grey. That's soon perform'd, because I am a


K. Edw.

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