And set thy diadem upon my head;
Or bide the mortal fortune of the field ?

Q. Mar. Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy!

Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms,
Before thy sovereign, and thy lawful king?
Edw. I am his king, and he should bow his
knee;

I was adopted heir by his consent;

Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, You-that are king, though he do wear the

crown,

Have caus'd him, by new act of parliament,
To blot out me, and put his own son in.
Clif. And reason too;

Who should succeed the father, but the son? Rich. Are you there, butcher?-O, I cannot speak!

Clif. Ay, crookback; here I stand to answer thee,

Or any he the proudest of thy sort.

Rich. "Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?

Clif Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

Q. Mar. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick ? dare you speak?

When you and I met at St. Albans last,
Your legs did better service than your hands.
War. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis
thine.

Clif. You said so much before, and yet you fled. War. "Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.

North. No, nor your manhood, that durst make you stay.

Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently

Break off the parle; for scarce I can refrain
The execution of my big-swoln heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
Clif. I slew thy father: Call'st thou him a
child?

Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous coward,

As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; But, ere sunset, I'll make thee curse the deed. K. Hen. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

Q. Mar. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.

K. Hen. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue;

I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.

Clif. My liege, the wound, that bred this meeting here,

Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.
Rich. Then, executioner, unsheath thy sword:
By him that made us all, I am resolv'd,
That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.
Edw. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day,
That ne'er shall dine, unless thou yield the

crown.

War. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; For York in justice puts his armour on. Prince. If that be right, which Warwick says is right,

There is no wrong, but every thing is right. Rich. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;

For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue.

Mar. But thou art neither like thy sire, nor
dam;

But like a foul misshapen stigmatick,
Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings.
Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king,

(As if a channel should be call'd the sea,) Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,

To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? Edw. A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns,

To make this shameless callet know herself-
Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus:
And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd
By that false woman, as this king by thee.
His father revell'd in the heart of France,
And tam'd the king, and made the Dauphin
stoop;

And, had he match'd according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day:
But, when he took a beggar to his bed,
And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day:
Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him,
That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France,
And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
For what hath broach'd this tumult, but thy
pride?

Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
And we, in pity of the gentle king,
Had slipp'd our claim until another age.
Geo. But, when we saw our sunshine made thy
spring,

And that thy summer bred us no increase,
We set the axe to thy usurping root:
And though the edge hath something hit our.
selves,

Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave, till we have hewn thee down,
Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.
Edw. And, in this resolution, I defy thee;
Not willing any longer conference,
Since thou deny'st the gentle king to speak.-
Sound trumpets 1-let our bloody colours

wave!

And either victory, or else a grave.
Q. Mar. Stay, Edward.

Edw. No, wrangling woman; we'll no longer

stay;

These words will cost ten thousand lives to-day. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Field of Battle between Towton and Saxton, in Yorkshire.

Alarums: Excursions. Enter Warwick. War. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, I lay me down a little while to breathe: For strokes receiv'd, and many blows repaid, Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,

And spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile.

Enter Edward, running.

Edw. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death!

For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.

War. How now, my lord ? what hap? what hope of good 7

Enter George.

Geo. Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: What counsel give you, whither shall we fly? Edw. Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit. Enter Richard.

Rich. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?

Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance: And, in the very pangs of death, he cried,Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!

Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural,
This deadly quarrel daily doth beget -
O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
And hath bereft thee of thy life too late l'
K. Hen. Wo above wo! grief more than com-
mon grief!

O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds!

O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity!

The red rose and the white are on his face,
The fatal colours of our striving houses:
The one, his purple blood right well resembles;
The other, his pale cheeks, methinks, present!"
Wither one rose, and let the other flourish !
If you contend, a thousand lives must wither.
Son. How will my mother, for a father's death,
Take on with me, and ne'er be satisfied?
Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son,
Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied?
K. Hen. How will the country, for these woful
chances,

Misthink the king, and not be satisfied?

Son. Was ever son, so ru'd a father's death?
Fath. Was ever father, so bemoan'd a son ?
K. Hen. Was ever king so griev'd for subjects'
wo?

Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much.
Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep
my fill.
[Exit with the Body.

And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,

Or as thy father, and his father did,
Giving no ground unto the house of York,
They never then had sprung like summer flies;
I, and ten thousand in this luckless realm,
Had left no mourning widows for our death,
And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.
For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
And what makes robbers bold, but too much
lenity?

Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:
The foe is merciless, and will not pity;
For at their hands I'have deserv'd no pity.
The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
And much effuse of blood doth make me faint:-
Come, York, and Richard, Warwick, and the
I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.
[He faints.

rest:

Alarum and retreat. Enter Edward, George, Richard, Montague, Warwick, and Soldiers. Edw. Now breathe we, lords; good fortune bids us pause,

And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.

My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre ;
For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go.
My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
And so obsequious will thy father be,
Sad for the loss of thee, having no more,
As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
I'll bear thee hence: and let them fight that will,
For I have murder'd where I should not kill.
[Exit, with the Body.
K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with
care,

Here sits a king more woful than you are.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter Queen Margaret,
Prince of Wales, and Exeter.
Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends
are fled,

And Warwick rages like a chafed bull:
Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit.

Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord, towards Berwick post amain,

Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds
Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,
And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain.
Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with

them;

Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed:
Or else come after, I'll away before."

K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet
Exeter;

Not that I fear to stay, but love to go Whither the queen intends. Forward: away! [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The same.

A loud Alarum. Enter Clifford, wounded. Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies, Which, while it lasted, gave King Henry light. O, Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow, More than my body's parting with my soul. My love, and fear, glew'd many friends to thee; And, now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt. Impairing Henry, strength'ning mis-proud York, The common people swarm like summer flies: And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun? And who shines now but Henry's enemies? O Phœbus! hadst thon never given consent That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds, Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth:

[Clifford groans and dies. Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave ?

Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death departing.

Edw. See who it is; and now the battle's ended, Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis ClifIf friend, or foe, let him be gently us❜d.

ford;

Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
But set his murdering knifeunto the root
From whence that tender spray did sweetly
spring,

I

mean our princely father, duke of York.
War. From off the gates of York fetch down
the head,

Your father's head, which Clifford placed there:
Instead whereof, let this supply the room;
Measure for measure must be answered.
Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our
house,

That nothing sung but death to us and ours: Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,

And his ill boding tongue no more shall speak.
[Attendants bring the Body forward.
War. I think his understanding is bereft :-
Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to
thee ?-

Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say.
Rich. O, 'would he did! and, so, perhaps he
doth;

"Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
Because he would avoid such bitter taunts,
Which in the time of death he gave our father.
Geo. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager
words.

Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace. Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. Geo. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. Rich Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.

Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee. Ged. Where's Captain Margaret to fence you

now?

War. They mock thee, Clifford ! swear as thou

was wont.

Rich. What, not an oath ? nay, then the world goes hard,

When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath:
I know by that he's dead; And by my soul,
If this right hand would buy two hours' life,
That I in all despite might rail at him,

This hand should chop it off: and with the issuing blood

Stifle the villain, whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's
head,

And rear it in the place your father's stands.-
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king.
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to
France,

And ask the lady Bona for thy queen:

So shalt thou sinew both these lands together: And having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread

The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again:
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buzz, to offend thine ears.
First, will I see the coronation;

Aud then to Britany I'll cross the sea,
To eflect this marriage, so it please my lord.
Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let
it be:

For on thy shoulder do I build my seat;
And never will I undertake the thing,
Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster ;-
And George, of Clarence-Warwick, as ourself,
Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.
Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George, of
Gloster;

For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.
War. Tut, that's a foolish observation;
Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London,
To see these honours in possession.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

1 Keep. Under this thick grown brake we'll shroad ourselves;

For through this laund anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, Culling the principal of all the deer.

2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may

shoot.

For how can I help them, and not myself? 1 Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee:

This is the quondam king: let's seize upon him. K. Hen. Let me embrace these sour adversities; For wise men say, it is the wisest course.

2 Keep. Why linger we 7 let us lay hands upon him.

1 Keep. Forbear awhile: we'll hear a little more. K. Hen. My queen, and son, are gone to France for aid;

And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister
To wife for Edward: If this news be true,
Poor queen, and son, your labour is but lost;
For Warwick is a subtle orator,

And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.

By this account, then, Margaret may win him;
For she's a woman to be pitied much :
Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tiger will be mild while she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,
To hear, and see, her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but she's come to beg; Warwick to give:
She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry;
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and says--her Henry is depos'd;
He smiles, and says-his Edward is enstall'd;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no

more:

Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,

Inferreth arguments of mighty strength;
And, in conclusion, wins the king from her,
With promise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thon went'st fortorn.
2 Keep. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings
and queens?

K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was born to:

A man at least, for less I should not be ; And men may talk of kings, and why not I? 2 Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.

K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough.

2 Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy

crown?

K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head;

Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen my crown is call'd content; A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.

2 Keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd with

content,

bow

You are the king, King Edward hath depos'd; And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance, Will apprehend you as his enemy.

K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an oath?

2 Keep. No, never such an oath, nor will not

And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,"
Commanded always by the greater gust;
Such is the lightness of you common men.
But do not break your oaths; for, of that sin
My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
And be you kings; command, and I'll obey.
1 Keep. We are true subjects to the king, King
Edward.

K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry,
If he were seated as King Edward is.

1 Keep. We charge you, in God's name, and in the king's,

To go with us unto the officers.

K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd:

And what God will, then let your king per

form;

And what he will, I humbly yield unto.

[Exeunt. SCENE II. London. A room in the Palace. Enter King Edward, Gloster, Clarence, and Lady Grey.

K. Edw. Brother of Gloster, at Saint Albans' field

This lady's husband, Sir John Grey, was slain,
His lands then seiz'd on by the conqueror :
Her suit is now, to repossess those lands;
Which we in justice cannot well deny.
Because in quarrel of the house of York
The worthy gentleman did lose his life.

K. Edw. Why then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.

suit:

It were dishonour to deny it her.

K. Edw. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.

Glo. Yea! is it so ?

I see, the lady hath a thing to grant,
Before the king will grant her humble suit.
Clar. He knows the game; How true he keeps
the wind 7

[Aside. Glo. Silence! [Aside. K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit; And come some other time to know our mind. L. Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay:

May it please your highness to resolve me now; And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me.

Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all your lands,

And if what pleases him, shall pleasure you. Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. Clar. I fear her not, unless she chance to fall. [Aside. Glo. God forbid that! for he'll take vantages. [Aside. K. Edw. How many children hast thou, widow ? tell me.

Clar. I think, he means to beg a child of her.

two.

[Aside.

Glo. Nay, whip me then; he'll rather give her Aside. L. Grey. Three, my most gracious lord. Glo. You shall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him. [Aside.

K. Edu. "Twere pity, they should lose their father's land.

L. Grey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it them.

K. Edw. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.

Glo. Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave,

Till youth take leave, and leave you to the crutch.

[Glo. and Clar. retire to the other side. K. Edw. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

L. Grey. Av, full as dearly as I love myself.

L. Grey. The fruits of love, I mean, my loving liege. K. Edu. Ay, but I fear me, in another sense. What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?

L. Grey. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;

That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants. K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.

L. Grey. Why then you mean not as I thought you did.

K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my mind.

L. Grey. My mind will never grant what 1 perceive Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. K. Edw. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.