SCENE II-A room in Sandal Castle, near Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me ;- R. Brother, though I be youngest, give me With powerful policy strengthen themselves, leave. And trust not simple Henry, nor his oaths. * Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not⚫ And thus most humbly I do take my leave. [Ea. Enter Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer. York. Sir John, and sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles! You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; The army of the queen mean to besiege us. Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men in And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. Many a battle have I won in France, When as the enemy hath been ten to one; beWhy should I not now have the like success? [Alarum. Exeunt. York. I shall be, if I claim by open war. York. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took 'Before a true and lawful magistrate, 'That hath authority over him that swears: Henry had none, but did usurp the place; Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, Your oath, my lord, vain and frivolous. "Therefore, to arms. * And, father, do but think, How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; *Within whose circuit is Elysium, * And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. *Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest, * Until the white rose, that I wear, be died * Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. Brother, thou shalt to London presently, " And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.Thou, Richard, shalt unto the duke of Norfolk, And tell him privily of our intent.You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham, With whom the Kentish-men will willingly rise: 'In them I trust; for they are soldiers, Witty' and courteous, liberal, full of spirit.While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, But that I seek occasion how to rise; And yet the king not privy to my drift, 'Nor any of the house of Lancaster? SCENE III-Plains near Sandal Castle. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Rutland, and his Tutor. 'Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape the hands? Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes! Enter Clifford, and Soldiers. Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. As for the brat of this accursed duke, Whose father slew my father, he shall die. · Tut. Ah, Clifford murder not this innocent child, Lest thou be hated both of God and man. [Exit, forced off by Soldiers Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes?--I'll open them. 'Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws: And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey; And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat'ning look. Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die ;I am too mean a subject for thy wrath, Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. Chf. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge sufficient for me; X And till I root out their accursed line, And leave not one alive, I live in hell. Therefore [Lifting his hand. Clif. Thy father hath. Ah, let me live in prison all my days; Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. Clif. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! [Exit. SCENE IV.-The same. Alarum. Enter York. York. The army of the queen hath got the field: 'My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; And all my followers to the eager foe "Turn back, and fly, like ships before the wind, 'Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves. 'My sons-God knows, what hath bechanced them: But this I know, they have demean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life, or death. 'Three times did Richard make a lane to me; And thrice cried,-Courage, father! fight it out! 'And full as oft came Edward to my side, With purple falchion, painted to the hilt In blood of those that had encounter'd him: 'And cried,-A crown, or else a glorious tomb! 'Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland, 'Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? Clif. So cowards fight, when they can fly no further ; 'So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. York. O, Clifford, but bethink thee once again, 'And in thy thought o'er-run my former time: *And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face; And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice, 'Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this. Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word; But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. [Draws. Q. Mar. Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand much, To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: [They lay hands on York, who struggles. York. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; So true mens yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. him now? Q. Mar. Brave warriors, Clifford, and Northum- Come, make him stand upon this mole-hill here; 6 I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York: [Putting a paper crown on his head. Since. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? York. She-wolf of France, but worse than "Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex, To triumph like an Amazonian trull, Upon their woes, whom fortune captivates? But that thy face is, visor-like, unchanging, Made impudent with use of evil deeds, I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush: Thy father bears the type of king of Naples, That beggars, mounted, run their horse to death. 'Tis beauty, that doth oft make women proud; But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: 'Tis virtue, that doth make them most admir'd; The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: 'Tis government, that makes them seem divine; The want thereof makes thee abominable: Thou art as opposite to every good, As the Antipodes are unto us, Or as the south to the septentrion." O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! How could'st thou drain the life-blood of the child, To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; 'Thou, stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. Bid'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: 'Would'st have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: 'For raging wind blows up incessant showers, And, when the rage allays, the rain begins. These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies; And every drop cries vengeance for his death,"Gainst thee, fell Clifford,-and thee, false French woman. North. Beshrew me, but his passions move me so, But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,- curse; And, in thy need, such comfort came to thee, Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord Northumberland? Think but upon the wrong he did us all, And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. Clif. Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. [Stabbing him. Q. Mar. And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. [Stabbing him. York. Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God! 'My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee. [Dies. Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set it on York gates; So York may overlook the town of York. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I-A plain near Mortimer's Cross, in Herefordshire. Drums. Enter Edward, and Richard, with their forces, marching. *Edw. I wonder, how our princely father 'scap'd; *Or whether he be 'scap'd away, or no, *From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit; Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; Or, had he 'scap'd, methinks, we should have heard *The happy tidings of his good escape.- Rich. I cannot joy, until I be resolv'd *Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs; How well resembles it the prime of youth, sun; Not separated with the racking clouds,1o (7) Demeaned himself. (s) Neat cattle; cows, oxen, &c. (9) Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the sun, (1) Impale, encircle with a crown. (2) Kill him. (3) The distinguishing mark. (4) Government, in the language of the time, sigained evenness of temper, and decency of manners.when she dismisses him to his diurnal course. (5) The north. (6) Sufferings. (10) i. e. The clouds in rapid tumultuary motion. 62 THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI. Bat sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky, I think it cites us, brother, to the field Rich, Nay, bear three daughters;-by your You love the breeder better than the male. But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretel Rich, Say how he died, for I will hear it all. "Mess. Environed he was with many foes; And stood against them as the hope of Troy2 Against the Greeks, that would have enter'd Troy. But Hercules himself must yield to odds; * And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. By many hands your father was subdu'd; But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm "Of unrelenting Clifford, and the queen: "Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite; 'Laugh'd in his face; and, when with grief he The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks, 'A napkin steeped in the harmless blood His dukedom and his chair with me is left. Enter Warwick and Montague, with War. How now, fair lords? What fare? what news abroad? 'Rich. Great lord of Warwick, if we should Our baleful news, and, at each word's deliverance, wounds. O valiant lord, the duke of York is slain. Edw. O Warwick! Warwick! that Plantagenet, War. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears: And now, to add more measure to your woes, March'd towards Saint Albans, to intercept the queen, Bearing the king in my behalf along: For by my scouts I was advertised, That she was coming with a full intent To dash our late decree in parliament, sion. wept,Touching king Henry's oath, and your succes Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: And, after many scorns, many foul taunts, They took his head, and on the gates of York "They set the same; and there it doth remain, 'The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. Edw. Sweet duke of York, our prop to lean upon; 'Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay! *O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford, thou hast slain *The flower of Europe for his chivalry; *And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, For, hand to hand, he would have vanquish'd thee! Now my soul's palace is become a prison: Short tale to make,-we at Saint Albans met, Ah, would she break from hence! that this my body With promise of high pay, and great rewards; 'Might in the ground be closed up in rest: Rich. I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture For self-same wind, that I should speak withal, quench. To weep, is to make less the depth of grief: 'Richard, I bear thy name, I'll venge thy death, (1) Merit. (2) Hector, (3) Killed, But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, Edw. Where is the duke of Norfolk, gentle land? 'War. Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers: And for your brother, he was lately sent From your kind aunt, duchess of Burgundy, "With aid of soldiers to this needful war. Rich. "Twas odds, belike, when valiant War- Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, War. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine 'Tis love, I bear thy glories, makes me speak. you out; SCENE II.-Before York. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, the Prince of Wales, Clifford, and Northumberland, with forces. Q. Mar. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy, To see this sight, it irks my very soul.- Cliff. My gracious liege, this too much lenity, And therefore comes my brother Montague. Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, Rich. Ay, now, methinks, I hear great Warwick Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, lean; I And when thou fall'st (as God forbid the hour!) 'The next degree is, England's royal throne: (As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,) Enter a Messenger. War. How now? what news? Not his, that spoils her young before her face. Who hath not seen them (even with those wings Should lose his birthright by his father's fault; Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy! But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,- As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep, 'Q. Mar. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh, 'And this soft courage makes your followers faint, 'You promis'd knighthood to our forward son; Unsheath your sword, and dub him presently. Mess. The duke of Norfolk sends you word by Edward, kneel down. me, The queen is coming with a puissant host? And craves your company for speedy counsel. (1) Lofty. [Exeunt. (2) Why then things are as they should be. K. Hen. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; |