ACT V-SCENE I.

A Field of Battle near Barnet.

Alarm.-Fight.

Enter WARWICK.

EDWARD Plantagenet !- 'tis Warwick calls!

Now-if thou dost not hide thee from my sword,
Now when the angry trumpet sounds alarm-
And cries of dying warriors fill the air,
Edward, I say, come forth, and fight with me!
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms!

[Exit.

Alarm.Enter EDWARD and WARWICK.

Edward. Now, Warwick, shall our country's wounds be heal'd.

Thy death or mine will end these deadly feuds.————— Why dost thou faulter?

Warwick.

Thou wast once my friend, Thou hast been in my pow'r-I spar'd thy life. It grieves my soul, that I must take it now, Or lose my own in loyalty's defence.

I hold my duty, and I risk my life,

To serve my God, my country, and my king,

Edward. So may the God of battles speed my

sword,

As it is drawn in justice and in right.

[They fight-WARWICK falls.

Edward. So, lie thou there-die thou, and die our fear

O may'st thou meet that peace in heav'n, which earth Ever denied thee!

Warwick.

[Exit.

Thus end all

my

toils !

Thus I must yield my body to the earth,
And by my fall, the conquest to the foe !
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the rampant lion slept!

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 oft compar'd to sepulcres of kings;

For who was king, but I could dig his grave?

And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his brow

Lo-all my glory smear'd in dust and blood!-

All now forsakes me--and of all my lands
Is nothing left me, but my body's length.
Ah, what is pomp and rule, but dust and earth?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET.

Oxford. Ah, Warwick, Warwick, raise thyself

and live

We may recover all our loss again.

The Queen from France has brought a mighty force.
E'en now we heard the news-ah, couldst thou fly?
Warwick. Why then I would not fly!-Alas, my
friends,-

The works of ages,—and the fate of nations;
And all the glories of a bustling world,-
Are vanish'd from my sight-all earthly objects-
Lose their importance now-all, all is darkness.-
My friends-be happy-till we meet-in heav'n.

[Dies. Somerset. Warwick, are all thy glories come to this!

A braver soldier never couch'd his lance,

A nobler heart ne'er bore the sway in council-
But mightiest potentates must come to this.
This is the end of human misery!

Oxford. Come noble Somerset, this bloody scene. Imprints thy mind with fearful images.

Turn to a brighter prospect.

Somerset.

To this mind

Fear is a stranger; but 'tis more than fancy,
That fills the nation with portentous signs.
The bay-trees in the country are all wither'd:
And burning meteors fright the stars of heav'n.
The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
And ghastly prophets whisper'd fearful change.

Alas poor Henry! with a heavy mind,
I see thy glory, like a shooting star,

Fall to the base earth from the firmament!
Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
And fortune shuts the melancholy scene.

Oxford. Let not vain terrors blast our rising hopes!
Come, let us lead our forces to the Queen,
And try once more our fortune in the field!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Another part of the field.

Enter EDWARD, CLARENCE, RICHARD,
HASTINGS, &c.

Edward. Still on our arms smiles laurell'd victory

The high aspiring Warwick sleeps in dust.

But in the midst of this clear shining day,

I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
That rises to encounter with our sun,

Ere he attain his western seat of glory.

Those forces, that the Queen has rais'd in France, Are marching, as we hear, to give us battle.

Clarence. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud ; Thy beams will dry those vapors ere they rise; And ev'ry cloud engenders not a storm.

Richard. The Queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong,

1

And she is join'd by Somerset and Oxford.

If she have time to breathe, such is the force

Of her persuasion, she will raise a host.

Edward. Our friends have shap'd their course to
Tewksbury.

Thither success directs our conqu❜ring troops.
Now on, my friends and brothers, once again.

God and St. George! fair England's right and Ed

ward's

Prosper our arms in this decisive fight!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Country near Tewksbury.

March-Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE
EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD,
and SOLDIERS."

Margaret. Great Lords, wise men ne'er sit and

wail their woes;

But cheerly seek how to redress their wrongs.
What tho' the mast be now blown over-board,
The cable broke, our 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 child
With tearful eyes add water to the sea;
And leave the ship to split upon a rock,