* His body couched in a curious bed,

* When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.

Alarum.

Enter a Son that has killed his Father, dragging in the dead body.

Son. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, May be possessed with some store of crowns; * And I, that haply take them from him now, * May yet ere night yield both my life and them *To some man else, as this dead man doth me. 'Who's this?-O God! it is my father's face,

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• Whom in this conflict I unawares have killed.

O heavy time, begetting such events!

• From London by the king was I pressed forth;

My father, being the earl of Warwick's man,

• Came on the part of York, pressed by his master;

And I, who at his hands received my life,

Have by my hands of life bereaved him.

Pardon me, God; I knew not what I did!

And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!—

* My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks;
* And no more words, till they have flowed their fill.
· K. Hen. O piteous spectacle! O bloody times!
Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens,

• Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.—
*Weep, wretched man; I'll aid thee tear for tear;
*And let our hearts, and eyes, like civil war,

* Be blind with tears and break, o'ercharged with grief.

Enter a Father, who has killed his Son, with the body in his arms.

· Fath. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me,

• Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold;
For I have bought it with a hundred blows.—
But let me see:-is this our foeman's face?

Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son!

* Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,

* Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise, *Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, *Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart!—

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O, pity, God, this miserable age!—

1

'What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, '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! 2

K. Hen. Woe above woe! grief more than common

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 colors 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!

3

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,

4

'Misthink the king, and not be satisfied!

'Son. Was ever son, so rued a father's death?

· Fath. Was ever father, so bemoaned a son? K. Hen. Was ever king, so grieved for subjects' woe ?

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

fill.

1 Stratagems here means direful events.

2 of these obscure lines the following explanation by Henley is the most probable which has been offered:-Had the son been younger, he would have been precluded from the levy which brought him to the field; and had the father recognized him before their mortal encounter, it would not have been too late to have saved him from death.

3 To take on is a phrase still in use in common parlance, and signifies to persist in clamorous lamentations.

4 Think unfavorably of.

*Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy winding

sheet;

* 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 obsequious1 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 murdered where I should not kill.

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[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 grasped 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.

1 Obsequious is here careful of obsequies or funeral rites.

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SCENE VI. The same. A loud Alarum.

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 glued many friends to thee;

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And, now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt. Impairing Henry, strengthening 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, Phoebus! hadst thou never given consent. That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds, Thy burning car never had scorched the earth : And, Henry, hadst thou swayed 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:

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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 deserved 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 rest ;
'I stabbed your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.

[He faints.

1 In the old play the stage direction adds, with an arrow in his neck. It is thought that Beaumont and Fletcher ridiculed this, by introducing Ralph, the grocer's prentice, in the Knight of the Burning Pestle, with a forked arrow through his head. The circumstance is related by Holinshed, p. 664:-"The lord Clifford, either for heat or paine, putting off his gorget suddenlie, with an arrow (as some saie) without a head, was stricken into the throte, and immediately rendered his spirit."

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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.— * Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen,

That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
As doth a sail, filled with a fretting gust,

• Command an argosy to stem the waves.
'But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape;
For, though before his face I speak the words,
Your brother Richard marked him for the grave ;
'And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead.

[CLIFFORD groans, and dies. Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy

leave?

Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's de

parting.1

Edw. See who it is; and now the battle's ended, If friend or foe, let him be gently used.

Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; 'Who not contented that he lopped the branch In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, 'But set his murdering knife unto the root

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• 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.

1 Departing for separation.