Clif. Come, cousin, let us teil the quees these news.
West. Farewell, faint-hearted and degene rate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. North. Be thou a prey unto the house of York,
And die in bands for this unmanly deed! Clif. In dreadful war may'st thou be overcome!
Or live in peace, abandon'd, and despis'd! [Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND.
War. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.
Exe. They seek revenge, and therefore wil not yield.
War. Why should you sigh, my lord?
K. Hen. Not for myself, lord Warwick, but
Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
But, be it as it may :-I here entail
The crown to thee, and to thine heirs for ever;
Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
To honour me as thy king and sovereign;
And neither by treason, nor hostility,
To seek to put me down, and reign thyself.
York. This oath I willingly take, and will
perform. [Coming from the Throne.
War. Long live king Henry!-Plantagenet,
Prince. Father, you cannot disinherit me:
If you be king, why should not I succeed?
K. Hen. Pardon me, Margaret ;-pardon me,
[me.
The earl of Warwick, and the duke, enforc'd
Q. Mar. Enforc'd thee! art thou king, and
wilt be forc'd?
[wretch!
I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous
Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me;
And given unto the house of York such head,
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
What is it, but to make thy sepulchre,
And creep into it far before thy time?
Warwick is chancellor, and the lord of Calais;
Stern Faulconbridge commands the narrow
seas;
The duke is made protector of the realm;
And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds
The trembling lamb, environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
The soldiers should have toss'd me on their
pikes,
Before I would have granted to that act.
But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour:
And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself,
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
Until that act of parliament be repeal'd,
Whereby my son is disinherited.
The northern lords, that have forsworn thy colours,
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread:
And spread they shall be; to thy foul disgrace,
And utter ruin of the house of York.
Thus do I leave thee:-Come, son, let's away;
Our army's ready; come, we'll after them.
K. Hen. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me
speak.
Q. Mar. Thou hast spoke too much already; get thee gone.
K. Hen. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?
Q. Mar. Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. Prince. When I return with victory from the field,
I'll see your grace: till then, I'll follow her. Q. Mar. Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.
[Exeunt Queen MARGARET, and the PRINCE. K. Hen. Poor queen! how love to me, and
Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
Reveng'd may she be on that hateful duke;
Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
Will cost my crown, and, like an empty eagle,
Tire on the flesh of me, and of my son!
The loss of those three lords torments my
I'd break a thousand oaths, to reign one year. Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should be forsworn.
York. I shall be, if I claim by open war. Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.
York. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not 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, is 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 dyed Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or
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 Kentishmen 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
But that I seek occasion how to rise; [more
And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
Enter a MESSENGER.
But, stay; What news? Why com'st thou in such post?
Mess. The queen, with all the northern earls Intend here to besiege you in your castle: and lords, She is hard by with twenty thousand men ; And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.
York. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou, that we fear them?My brother Montague shall post to London: Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, Whom we have left protectors of the king, With powerful policy strengthen themselves, And trust not simple Henry, nor his oaths. Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it And thus most humbly I do take my leave.
Enter Sir JOHN and Sir HUGH MORTIMER. York. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortime 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 the field.
York. What, with five thousand men?
Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a
need.
A woman's general; What should we fear?
[A March afar off.
Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men
in order;
And issue forth, and bid them battle straight.
York. Five men to twenty-though the odds
be great,
I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
Many a battle have I won in France,
When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
Why should I not now have the like success?
[Alarum. Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Plains near Sandal Castle.
Alurums: Excursions. Enter RUTLAND, and
Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands!
Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes!
Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers.
Thou hast one son, for his sake pity me;
Lest, in revenge thereof,-sith* God is just,—
He be as miserably slain as 1.
Ah, let me live in prison all my days;
And when I give occasion of offence,
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
Clif. No cause?
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
[CLIFFORD stabs him.
Rut. Dii faciant, laudis summa sit ista tuæ!‡
[Dies.
Clif. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!
And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade,
Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,
Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.
[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 ine;
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:
[selves
But this I know,-they have demean'd them-
Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves Like men born to renown, by life, or death.
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Clif. Soldiers, away with him.
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,
[them.
That makes him close his eyes?-I'll open
Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the
Were not revenge sufficient for me;
No, if I digg'd up thy forefather's graves,
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire, nor case my heart.
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul;
And till I root out their accursed line,
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore
[Lifting his hand. Rut. O, let me pray before I take my death:To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me!
Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. Rut. I never did thee harm; Why wilt thou slay me?
Clif. Thy father hath.
Rut. But 'twas ere I was born.
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,
In blood of those that had encounter'd him:
With purple faulchion, painted to the hilt
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cried,-Charge! and give no foot of
ground!
And cried,-A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
4 sceptre! or an earthly sepulchre!
With this, we charg'd again: but, out, alas!
We bodg'd; again; as I have seen a swan
With bootless labour swim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching
[A short Alurum within.
Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue;
And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury:
And, were I strong, I would not shun their
fury:
The sands are number'd, that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end."
Enter Queen MARGARET, CLIFFORD, Northum-
BERLAND, and Soldiers.
Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumber-
land,-
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage;
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantage-
Clif. So cowards fight, when they can fly no farther;
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, [this. Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word;
But buckle with thee blows, twice two for [Draws.
I would prolong awhile the traitor's life :Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland.
Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on.-
[Putting a paper Crown on his Head.
Ay, marry, Sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took king Henry's chair:
And this is he was his adopted heir.-
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be king,
Till our king Henry had shook hands with
death.
And will you pale* your head in Henry's glory,
And rob his temples of the diadem,
Now in his life, against your holy oath?
Q. Mar. Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thou-O, 'tis a fault too, too unpardonable!Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head; And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him [dead.t Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake. Q. Mar. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes.
North. Hold, Clifford; do not honour him so much,
To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart:
What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
When he might spurn him with his foot away?
It is war's prize to take all vantages;
And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
[They lay hands on YORK, who struggles. Clif. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. North. So doth the coney struggle in the net. [YORK is taken prisoner. York. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;
So true men yield, with robbers so match'd.
York. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's
How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex, [tooth!
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:
[riv'd,
To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom de-
Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou
o'er-Thy father bears the type of king of Naples,
Of both the Sicils, and Jerusalem;
Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud
North. What would your grace have done
Q. Mur. Brave warriors, Clifford, and Nor-It
thumberland,
Come make him stand upon this molehill here;
That raught at mountains with outstretched
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.What! was it you, that would be England's king?
Was't you that revell'd in our parliament,
And made a preachment of your high descent?
Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
The wanton Edward, and the lusty George?
And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky your boy, that, with his grumbling
voice,
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rut-
land?
[blood
Look, York; I stain'd this napkin with the
That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point,
Made issue from the bosom of the boy:
And, if thine eyes can water for his death,
I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly,
I should lament thy miserable state.
I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York;
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and
dance.
[entrails,
What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine
That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
Why art thou patient, man? thou should'st be
mad;
And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Unless the adage must be verified,- [death.
That beggars, mounted, run their horse to
'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 di-
vine;
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, remorse-
Bid'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy 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 ;
* Impale, cncircle with a crown. + Kill him. The distinguishing mark. Government, in the language of the time, signified evenness of temper, and decency of manners. The North.
And every drop cries vengeance for his death,
'Gainst thee, fell Clifford,-and thee, false French-woman.
North. Beshrew me, but his passions* move
That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.
York. That face of his the hungry cannibals
Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd
with blood:
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,-
O, ten times more,-than tigers of Hyrcania.
See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears:
This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet
boy,
And I with tears do wash the blood away.
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this:
[He gives back the Handkerchief.
And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;
Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears;
And say,-Alas, it was a piteous deed!-
There, take the crown, and with the crown, my
And, in thy need, such comfort come to thee,
As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!—
Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world;
My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
North. Had he been slaughter-man to all my
kin,
I should not for my life but weep with him,
To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.
Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord North-
umberland?
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 fa-
ther's death.
[Stabbing him.
Q. Mar. And here's to right our gentle-heart-
ed king.
[Stabbing him.
York. Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
My soul flies through these wounds to seek out
[Dies.
Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set it on York
gates;
So York may overlook the town of York.
The rest stand all aloof, and bark at nim.
So fared our father with his enemies;
So fled his enemies my warlike father;
Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son.
See, how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!*
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love?
Edw. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three
Rica. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect
Not separated with the racking clouds.+
But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
As if they vow'd some league inviolable:
Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
In this the heaven figures some event.
Edw. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet
never heard of.
I think, it cites us, brother, to the field;
That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
Each one already blazing by our meeds,
Should, notwithstanding, join our lights to
gether,
And over-shine the earth, as this the world.
Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
Upon my target three fair shining suns.
Rich. Nay, bear three daughters;-By your
leave I speak it,
You love the breeder better than the male.
But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?
Mess. Ah, one that was a woeful looker on,
When as the noble duke of York was slain,
Your princely father, and my loving lord.
Edw. O, speak no more for I have heard
too much.
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 Troy
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 subdued;
SCENE I-A plain near MORTIMER'S Cross in But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm
Of unrelenting Clifford, and the queen:
Who crown'd the gracious duke, in high de.
spight;
[wept,
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
Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifforc
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
|