It is unnecessary for us here to enter upon the disputed question as to whether Richard Duke of Gloster were the actual murderer of Henry VI. The following is Holinshed's account of this event:

"Poor King Henry VI., a little before deprived (as we have heard) of his realm and imperial crown, was now in the Tower spoiled of his life by Richard Duke of Gloster (as the constant fame ran), who, to the intent that his brother King Edward might reign in more surety, murdered the said King Henry with a dagger, although some writers of that time, favouring altogether the house of York, have recorded that, after he understood what losses had chanced to his friends, aud how not only his son

but also all other his chief partakers were dead and despatched, he took it so to heart, that of pure displeasure, indignation, and melancholy, he died the three-and-twentieth of May. The dead corpse, on the Ascension even (the 29th), was conveyed with bills and glaives pompously (if you will call that a funeral pomp) from the Tower to the church of St. Paul, and there laid on a bier, where it rested the space of one whole day, and, on the next day after, it was conveyed, without priest or clerk, torch or taper, singing or saying, unto the monastery of Chertsey, distant from London fifteen miles, and there was it first buried; but after, it was removed to Windsor, and there in a new vault newly inhumulate."

(SCENE I.)

Enter RICHARD Duke of York, the EARL OF WAR-
WICK, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, MARQUIS MON-
TAGUE, EDWARD EARL OF MARCH, Crook-back
RICHARD, and the young EARL OF RUTLAND, with
drum and Soldiers, with white roses in their hats.
War. I wonder how the king escap'd our hands.
York. Whilst we pursued the horsemen of the
north,

He slily stole away, and left his men :
Whereat the great lord of Northumberland,
Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat,
Charg'd our main battle's front, and there with a
him

Lord Stafford and lord Clifford, all abreast,
Brake in, and were by the hands of common soldiers
slain.

Edw. Lord Stafford's father, duke of Buckingham, Is either slain or wounded dangerously: I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: Father, that this is true, behold his blood.

Mont. And, brother, here's the earl of Wiltshire's blood,

Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd.

Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.b

York. What, is your grace dead, my lord of Somerset ?

Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of

Gaunt !

Rich. Thus do I hope to shape king Henry's head. War. And so do I. Victorious prince of York, Before I see thee seated in that throne, Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, I vow by Heaven these eyes shall never close: This is the palace of that fearful king, And that the regal chair: possess it, York, For this is thine, and not king Henry's heirs'.

York. Assist me then, sweet Warwick, and I will: For hither are we broken in by force.

a

Norf. We'll all assist thee, and he that flies shall die.

There with. In the unique edition of 1595, therewith.

b It is evident that Richard here either points to the body of Somerset or throws down his head.

York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk. Stay by me, my lords;

And, soldiers, stay you here, and lodge this night. War. And when the king comes, offer him no violence,

Unless he seek to put us out by force.

Rich. Arm'd as we be, let's stay within this house. War. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, Unless Plantagenet, duke of York, be king, And bashful Henry be depos'd, whose cowardice Hath made us by-words to our enemies.

York. Then leave me not, my lords: for now I mean To take possession of my right.

War. Neither the king,nor him that loves him best, The proudest bird that holds up Lancaster, Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. I'll plant Plantagenet, and root him out who dares ! Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. Enter KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with the DUKE OF EXETER, the EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND, the EARL OF WESTMORELAND, and CLIFFORD, the EARL OF CUMBERLAND, with red roses in their hats. King. Look, lordings, where the sturdy rebel sits, Even in the chair of state! belike, he means (Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer) To aspire unto the crown, and reign as king. Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father, And thine, Clifford and you both have vow'd re

My heart for anger breaks, I cannot speak.
King. Be patient, gentle earl of Westmoreland.
Clif. Patience is for poltroons, such as he;
He durst not sit there had your father liv'd.
My gracious lord, here in the parliament
Let us assail the family of York.

North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin; be it so. King. O, know you not the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?

And that the earl of Westmoreland shall maintain. War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget That we are those that chas'd you from the field, And slew your father, and with colours spread March'd through the city to the palace gates.

North. No, Warwick, I remember it to my grief: And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. West. Plantagenet, of thee, and of thy sons, Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives, Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.

Clif. Urge it no more, lest, in revenge thereof, I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir.

War. Poor Clifford, how I scorn thy worthless threats !

York. Will ye we show our title to the crown, Or else our swords shall plead it in the field?

King. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
Thy father was, as thou art, duke of York;
Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, earl of March:
I am the son of Henry the fifth, who tam'd the
French,

And made the dauphin stoop, and seiz'd upon
Their towns and provinces.

War. Talk not of France, since thou hast lost it all. King. The lord protector lost it, and not I; When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. Rich. You're old enough now, and yet methinks you lose :

Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Edw. Do so, sweet father; set it on your head. Mont. Good brother, as thou lov'st and honour'st

King. Ah, Plantagenet, why seekest thou to depose me?

Are we not both Plantagenets by birth,
And from two brothers lineally descent?
Suppose by right and equity thou be king;
Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly seat,
Wherein my father and my grandsire sate!

King. Then am I lawful king. For Richard The second, in the view of many lords, Resign'd the crown to Henry the fourth; Whose heir my father was, and I am his. York. I tell thee, he rose against him, being his sovereign,

And made him to resign the crown perforce.

War. Suppose, my lord, he did it unconstrain'd, Think you that were prejudicial to the crown?

Exet. No; for he could not so resign the crown But that the next heir must succeed and reign. King. Art thou against us, duke of Exeter? Eret. His is the right, and therefore pardon me. King. All will revolt from me, and turn to him. North. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, Think not king Henry shall be thus depos'd.

War. Depos'd he shall be, in despite of thee. North. Tush, Warwick, thou art deceiv'd: 'Tis not thy southern powers of Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk,

And of Kent, that makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,

Can set the duke up in despite of me.

Clif. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence. May that ground gape and swallow me alive, Where I do kneel to him that slew my father.

King. O, Clifford, how thy words revive my soul ! York. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? War. Do right unto this princely duke of York, Or I will fill the house with armed men.

Enter Soldiers.

And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
Write up his title with thy usurping blood.
King. O, Warwick, hear me speak :
Let me but reign in quiet while I live.

York. Confirm the crown to me, and to mine heirs, And thou shall reign in quiet whilst thou liv'st. King. Convey the soldiers hence, and then I will. War. Captain, conduct them into Tuthill fields. Clif. What wrong is this unto the prince your son! War. What good is this for England and himself! North. Base, fearful, and despairing Henry ! Clif. How hast thou wronged both thyself and us! West. I cannot stay to hear these articles. [Exit. Clif. Nor I. Come, cousin, let's go tell the queen. North. Be thou a prey unto the house of York, And die in bands for this unkingly deed." [Exit. Clif. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, Or live in peace, abandon'd and despis'd. [Exit. Exet. They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield, my lord.

King. Ah, Exeter !

War. Why should you sigh, my lord?

a Unkingly, in the quarto of 1595; afterwards changed to unkindly.

Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me,
And given our rights unto the house of York.
Art thou a king, and wilt be forc'd to yield?
Had I been there, the soldiers should have toss'd
Me on their lances' points before I would have
Granted to their wills. The duke is made
Protector of the land stern Faulconbridge
Commands the narrow seas: and think'st thou then

To sleep secure? I here divorce me, Henry,
From thy bed, until that act of parliament
Be recall'd, wherein thou yieldest to the house of
York.

The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
And spread they shall unto thy deep disgrace.
Come, son, let's away, and leave him here alone.
King. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.
Queen. Thou hast spoke too much already,
therefore be still.

King. Gentle son Edward,wilt thou stay with me? Queen. Ay, to be murther'd by his enemies. [Exit. Prince. When I return withvictory from the field, I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. [Exit. King. Poor queen, her love to me and to the prince her son

Makes her in fury thus forget herself.
Revenged may she be on that accursed duke.
Come, cousin of Exeter, stay thou here,
For Clifford and those northern lords be gone,
I fear towards Wakefield, to disturb the duke,

Mont. But I have reasons strong and forcible.

Enter the DUKE OF YORK.

York. How now, sons! what, at a jar amongst yourselves?

Rich. No, father, but a sweet contention, about that which concerns yourself and us: the crown of England, father.a

York. The crown, boy! Why, Henry's yet alive; And I have sworn that he shall reigu in quiet Till his death.

Edw. But I would break an hundred oaths to

reign one year.

Rich. An if it please your grace to give me leave, I'll show your grace the way to save your oath, And dispossess king Henry from the crown.

York. I prithee, Dick, let me hear thy device. Rich. Then thus, my lord. An oath is of no moment,

Being not sworn before a lawful magistrate.
Henry is none,
but doth usurp your right,
And yet your grace stands bound to him by oath.
Then, noble father, resolve yourself,
And once more claim the crown.

York. Ay, say'st thou so, boy? Why, then it shall be so.

I am resolv'd to win the crown, or die.
Edward, thou shalt to Edmund Brooke, lord Cob-
ham,

With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise.
Thou, cousin Montague, shalt to Norfolk straight,
And bid the duke to muster up his soldiers,
And come to me to Wakefield presently.
And Richard, thou to London straight shall post,
And bid Richard Nevill, earl of Warwick,
To leave the city, and with his men of war
To meet me at St. Albans ten days hence.
Myself here, in Sandal castle, will provide
Both men and money to further our attempts.
Now, what news?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, the queen with thirty thousand men, accompanied with the earls of Cumberland, Northumberland, and Westmoreland, and others of the house of Lancaster, are marching towards Wakefield, to besiege you in your castle here.

Cousin

Enter Sir JOHN and Sir HUGH MORTIMER. York. A God's name let them come. Montague, post you hence. And, boys, stay you with me.

Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles,
You're welcome to Sandal in a happy hour.
The army of the queen means to besiege us.
Sir John. She shall not need, my lord; we'll
meet her in the field.

York. What! with five thousand soldiers, uncle?
Rich. Ay, father, with five hundred for a need.
A woman's general! what should you fear?
York. Indeed, many brave battles have I won

in Normandy,

a Printed as prose in the edition of 1595.