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Who can be bound by any

folemn vow

To do a murdrous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotlefs 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 his wrong,
But that he was bound by a folemn oath?

Q. Mar. A fubtle traitor needs no fophifter.

K. Henry. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. York. Call Buckingham and all the friends thou hast, I am refolv'd for death or dignity.

Old Clif. The first I warrant thee; if dreams prove true,
War. You were best go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

Old Clif. I am refolv'd to bear a greater storm
Than any thou canft conjure up to-day:
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,

Might I but know thee by thy houfe's badge.

War. Now by my father's badge, old Nevil's creft,
The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
(As on a mountain top the cedar fhews,
That keeps his leaves in fpight of any storm)
Ev'n to affright thee with the view thereof.

Old Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear,
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Defpight the bear-ward, that protects the bear.
Y. Clif. And fo to arms, victorious noble father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.

R. Plan. Fy, charity for fhame, fpeak not in fpight,
For
you fhall fup with Jefu Chrift to night.

Y. Clif. Foul ftigmatick, that's more than thou canft tell.
R. Plan. If not in heav'n, you'll furely fup in hell.
[Exeunt, feverally.

SCENE changes to a Field of Battle at

St. Albans.

Enter Warwick.

War.CLifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls;
And if thou doft not hide thee from the bear,
(Now when the angry trumpet founds alarum,
And dying mens cries do fill the empty air,)
Clifford, I fay, come forth and fight with me;
Proud northern Lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarfe with calling thee to arms.

Enter York.

War. How now, my noble Lord? what all a-foot ?
York. The deadly-handed Clifford flew my fteed:
But match to match I have encountred him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Ev'n of the bonny beaft he lov'd fo well.

Enter Clifford.

War. Of one or both of us the time is come.

York. Hold, Warwick: feck thee out fome other chace, For I myself muft hunt this deer to death.

War. Then nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'it: As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,

It grieves my foul to leave thee unaffail'd.

[Exit War.

Clif. What feeft thou in me, York? why dost thou pause? York. With thy brave bearing fhould I be in love, But that thou art fo faft mine enemy.

Clif. Nor fhould thy prowefs want praise and efteem,

But that 'tis fhewn ignobly and in treafon.

York. So let it help me now against thy fword,

As I in juftice and true right exprefs it.

Clif. My foul and body on the action both!

York. A dreadful lay, addrefs thee inftantly.

[Fight.

Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres.

[Dies.

York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art ftill;

Peace with his foul, heav'n, if it be thy will!

[Exit.

I

Enter

Enter Young Clifford.

Y. Clif. Shame and confufion! all is on the rout:
Fear frames disorder; and disorder wounds,
Where it should guard. O war! thou fon of hell
Whom angry heavens do make their minifter,
Throw in the frozen bofoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance. Let no foldier fly.
He, that is truly dedicate to war,

Hath no felf-love; for he that loves himself,
Hath not effentially, but by circumftance,

The name of valour.-O let the vile world end, (22) [Seeing his dead Fatber And the premised flames of the last day

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Knit earth and heav'n together!

Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty founds

To ceafe! waft thou ordained, O dear father,
To lofe thy youth in peace, and to atchieve
The filver livery of advised age;

And in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus
To die in ruffian battle? Even at this fight
My heart is turn'd to stone; and while 'tis mine,
It fhall be ftony. York not our old men fpares :
No more will I their babes: tears virginal
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;
And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
Henceforth I will not have to do with pity.
Meet I an infant of the house of York,
Into as many gobbits will I cut it,
As wild Medea young Abfyrtus did.

(22)—Oh, let the vile world end, And the premifed flames of the last day

Knit earth and heav'n together!] i. e. Let the vile world end now; and let thofe flames which are referved for its deftruction hereafter, be fent now. Shakespeare is very peculiar in his adjectives; and it is much in his manner to use the words borrowed from the Latin, clofer to their original fignification than they were vulgarly used in. So here he ufes premised, in the fenfe of the word from which it is derived, præmiffus.

In

In cruelty will I feek out my fame.

Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
As did Æneas old Anchifes bear,

So bear I thee upon my manly fhoulders;
But then Eneas bare a living load,

Nothing fo heavy as thefe woes of mine.

[Exit, bearing off his Father.

Enter Richard Plantagenet and Somerset, to fight. R. Plan. So, lie thou there :

[Somerset is killed.

For underneath an ale-house paltry fign, (23)
The caftle in St. Alban's, Somerset

Hath made the wizard famous in his death;

Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful ftill:
Priefts pray for enemies, but Princes kill.

[Exit Richard Plantagenet.

Fight. Excurfions. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, and others.

Q. Mar. Away, my Lord, you are flow; for fhame,away. K. Henry. Can we out-run the heav'ns! good Margret,

ftay.

Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll not fight, nor fly: Now is it manhood, wifdom and defence,

To give the enemy way, and to fecure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.

[Alarum afar off.

If you bè ta'en, we then fhould fee the bottom
Of all our fortunes; but if we haply 'scape,
(As well we may, if not through your neglect)
We fhall to London get, where you are lov'd;

(23) For underneath an ale-house paltry fign,

The caftle in St. Albans, Somerset

Hath made the wizard famous in bis death.]

The death of Somerfet here accomplishes that equivocal prediction given by Jordan, the witch, concerning this Duke; which we met with at the clofe of the first A of this play :

Let him fhun caftles;

Safer shall he be upon the fandy plains,
Than where caftles, mounted, ftand.

i. e. the representation of a caftle, mounted for a figs.

I

And where this breach, now in our fortunes made,
May readily be stopt.

Enter Clifford.

Clif. But that my heart's on future mifchief fet,
I would fpeak blafphemy, ere bid you fly;
But fly you muft: incurable discomfit

Reigns in the hearts of all our prefent parts.
Away, for your relief; and we will live

To fee their day, and them our fortune give.
Away, my Lord, away!

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter York, Richard Plantagenet,
Warwick, and Soldiers, with Drum and Colours.

York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him?
That winter lion, who in rage forgets
Aged contufions and all bruth of time;
And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
Repairs him with occafion. This happy day
Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,"
If Salisbury be loft.

R. Plan. My noble father,

Three times to day I holp him to his horse,
Three times beftrid him; thrice I led him off,
Perfuaded him from any further act :

But ftill, where danger was, fill there I met him;
And, like rich hangings in an homely houfe,

So was his will in his old feeble body.

But noble as he is, look, where he comes.

Enter Salisbury.

Sal. Now, by my fword, well haft thou fought to-day; By th' mafs, fo did we all. I thank you, Richard.

God knows, how long it is I have to live;

And it hath pleas'd him, that three times to-day
You have defended me from imminent death.

Well, Lords, we have not got that which we have ;
'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
Being oppofites of fuch repairing nature.
York. I know our fafety is to follow them;
VOL. V.

E

For,

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