What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails, 'That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? 'Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; "And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. [ putting a paper crown on his head. Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath ? Now in his life, against your holy oath? 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. Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake. Q. Mar. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes. Impale, encircle. York. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, '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 ? I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush: Thy father bears the type 1 of king of Naples, Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? As the Antipodes are unto us, 1 The distinguishing mark. A well-regulated mind. Or as the south to the septentrion.1 O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? 'Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. 'Bid'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish : 'Wouldst 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 2 move me so, 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,— Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: [he gives back the handkerchief. And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right, There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; And, in thy need, such comfort come to thee, Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world; Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord Northumberland ? Think but upon the wrong he did us all, 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. Enter EDWARD and RICHARD, with their forces, marching. Drums. "Ed. I wonder, how our princely father 'scaped; "Or whether he be 'scaped 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 'scaped, methinks, we should have heard "The happy tidings of his. good escape. Rich. I cannot joy, until I be resolved Where our right valiant father is become. I saw him in the battle range about; And watch'd him, how he singled Clifford forth. Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop, As doth a lion in a herd of neat ; 1 "Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs; Who, having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, "The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. 'Black cattle. |