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Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege!

[Rises. Enter QUEEN and SOMERSET. King. Sce, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the

queen: Go bid her liide him quickly from the duke.

Queen. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head, But boldly stand and front him to his face.

York. How now! is Somerset at liberty ?
Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts,
And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?

False king! why hast thou broken faith with me,
Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
King did I call thee? no, thou art not king,
Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
Which darest not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
That head of thine doth not become a crown;
Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.
That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear, 100
Is able with the change to kill and cure.
Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up
And with the same to act controlling laws.
Give place: by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.

Som. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York, Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown: Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.

York. Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these, If they can brook I bow a knee to man.

Sirrah, call in iny sons to be my bail: [Exit Attendant.
I know, cre they will have me go to ward,
They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.

Dileen. Call bither Clifford; bid him come amain,
To say if that the bastard boys of York
Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

[Exit Buckingham.
York. O blood-besotted Neopolitan,
Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
The sons of York, tlıy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those

120 That for my surety will refuse the boys!


See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good.

Enter old CLIFFORD and his Son.
Queen. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king!

York. I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news wiil thee?
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look:
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake; But ihou mistakest me much to think I do:

130 To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?

King. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against his king.

Clif. Ile is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his.

Queen. He is arrested, but will not obey;
His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.

York. Will you not, sons?
Eilir. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.
Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! 141

York. Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
I am thy king, and ihou n false-leari traitor.
Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
That with the very shaking of their chains
They may astonish these fell-lurking curs:
Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death,
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the baiting place.

150 Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur Run back and bite, because he was withheld; Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw, Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cricd: And such a piece of service will you do, If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.

Clif. Ilence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

York. Nay, we shall beat you thoroughly anon.
Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.

King. Why, Warwick, bath thy knee forgot io bow? 101
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!

What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
(), where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourabie age with blood ?

Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me
That bows unto the grave with mnickle age.

Su!. My lord, I have consider'd with myself
The title of this most renowned duke;
And in my conscience do repute his grace
The rightful heir to England's royal seat.

King. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
Sul. I have.

180 King. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an

Sil. It is great sin to swear unto a sin,
But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from lier custom’d right,
And have no other reason for this wrong
But that he was bound by a solemn oathi?

190 Queen. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. King. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.

York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, I am resolved for deatlı or dignity.

Cif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.

Wier. You were best to go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

Clf. I am resolved to hear a greater storm
Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet.

200 Might I but know thee by thy household badge.

War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,
The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
As on a mountain top the cedar shows
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
And tread it under foot with all contempt,

Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.

210 Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father, To quell the rebels and their complices.

Rich. Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. Y: Clif. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst

tell. Rich. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.

[Exeunt scrcrally

SCENE II. Saint Alban's.

Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK.
War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls:
And if thou dost not lide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,
Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me:
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is lioarse with calling thee to arms.

Enter York.
How now, my nobile lord! what, all afoot?

York. The leadly-banded Clifford slew my steed,
But match to match I have encounter'd bim

10 And made a prey for carrion kites and crow's Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.

Enter old CLIFFORD.
War. Of one or both of us the time is come.

York. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase, For I myself must hunt this deer to death.

War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st, As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day, It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.

[Erit. Clif. What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou


York. With thy brave bearing should I be in love, 20 But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

Chif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.

York. So let it help me now against thy sword
As I in justice and true right express it.

Clif. My soul and body on the action both!
York. Å dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.

[They fight, and Clifford falls. Clif. La fin couronne les æuvres.

[Dies. York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art

Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!


[Exit. Enter


Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout;
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
He that is truly dedicate to war
Hath no self-love, nor le that loves himself
Hath not essentially but by circumstance
The name of valour.

[Seeing his dead father. 0, let the vile world end,

And the premised flames of the last day
Knit earth and heaven together!
Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty sounds
To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
The silver livery of advised age,
And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus
To die in ruflian battle? Even at this sight
My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine,
It shall be stony.

York not our old men spares;
No more will I their babes: tears virginal
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire,
And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax,
Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:
Meet I an infant of the house of York,
Into as many gobbets will I cut it
As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
In cruelty will I seek out my fame.

Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
As did Æneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Æneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

[Exit, bearing off his father. Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed.

Rich. So, lie thou there;


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