War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for de-
fence:

I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.
K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and
leads the way :-

Lords to the field; Saint George, and victory. [March. Exeunt. SCENE II.-A Field of Battle near Barnet. Alarums, and Excursions. Enter King EDWARD, bringing in WARWICK wounded.

K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear;

For Warwick was a bug, that fear'd+ us all.-
Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
That Warwick's bones may keep thine com-
pany.
War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend,
[Exit.
or foe,

And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart
shows,

That I must yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept?
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading
tree,
[wind.
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful
These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's
black veil,

Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with
blood,

Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;
For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his

brow?

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood! My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands, Is nothing left me, but my body's length! Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are,

We might recover all our loss again! The queen from France hath brought a puissant power;

Even now we heard the news: Ah, could'st 'thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Montague,

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul a while!
Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed
blood,

That glews my lips, and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd
his last;

| Which sounded like a cannon in a vault, That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last, I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,— O, farewell, Warwick!

And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick, And said-Commend me to my valiant brother. And more he would have said; and more he spoke,

War. Sweet rest to his soul![bids You all farewell, to meet again in heaven. Fly, lords, and save yourselves; for Warwick

[Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt, bearing off WARWICK's Body. SCENE III-Another part of the Field. Flourish.-Enter King EDWARD in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest.

K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,

And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
That will encounter with our glorious sun,

I mean, my lords,-those powers, that the queen

cloud,

Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that
And blow it to the source from whence it came:
For every cloud engenders not a storm.
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up;

Glo. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand

strong,

And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd,
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

friends,

K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving [bury; That they do hold their course toward TewksWill thither straight, For willingness rids way; We having now the best at Barnet field, And, as we march, our strength will be augmented,

In every county as we go along.Strike up the drum; cry--Courage! and away. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Plains near Tewksbury. March. Enter Queen MARGARET, Prince EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers. Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,

But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. What though the mast be now blown over

board,

The cable broke, the holding anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still: Is't meet, that he
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea.
And give more strength to that which hath to
much;

Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say, Warwick was our anchor; What of that?
And Montague our top-mast; What of him?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; What of
these?

[lings.

Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
And Somerset another goodly mast;
The friends of France our shrouds and tack-
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep;

And what is Edward, but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence, but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while:
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly
sink:

Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish, that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the bro-
thers,

More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.

Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,

"Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear. Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit [words, Should, if a coward heard her speak these Infuse his breast with magnanimity,

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms,
I speak not this, as doubting any here:
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as God forbid !
Let him depart, before we need his help.
Orf. Women and children of so high a
courage!
[shame.-
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual
O, brave young prince! thy famous grand-
father
[live,
Doth live again in thee; Long may'st thou
To bear his image, and renew his glories!
Som. And he, that will not fight for such a
hope,

Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset ;-sweet
Oxford, thanks.

Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath
nothing else.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes. Therefore, no more but this:-Henry, your sovereign,

Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
His realm a slaughterhouse, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spol.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name,
lords,

Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies,

SCENE V.-Another part of the same. Alarums: Excursions: und afterwards a Retreat Then Enter King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, Prisoners.

K. Edu. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.

Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle* straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them
speak.

Orf. For my part, I will not trouble thee with words.

Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded. Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world,

To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem. K. Edw. Is proclamation made,-that, who finds Edward,

Shall have a high reward, and he his life? Glo. It is: and, lo, where youthful Edward

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick? Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to? Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambi tious York!

Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou,

hand,

Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less it is his policy, To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness. Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.

Orf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not budge.

March. Enter at a distance, King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces.

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,

Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your strength,

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For well I wot,* ye blaze to burn them out:
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen,
what, I should say,

My tears gainsay ;t for every word I speak, + Unsay, deny.

* Know.

Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer

Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's To wit, an indigest deformed lump, [hope; Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. [born, Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast To signify,-thou cam'st to bite the world: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st.

Glo. I'll hear no more;-Die, prophet, in thy
speech;
[Stabs him.

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter

after this.

O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee!

[Dies. Glo. What, will the aspiring blood of Lan

caster

mounted.

Sink in the ground? I thought it would have [death! See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's O, may such purple tears be always shed From those that wish the downfal of our house!

If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say-I sent thee
thither,
[Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.-
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of;
For I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!
And so I was; which plainly signified-
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the
dog.

[so, Then since the heavens have shap'd my body Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother: And this word-love, which greybeards call divine,

[light;

Be resident in men like one another,
And not in me; I am myself alone.
Clarence beware; thou keep'st me from the
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:
For I will buz abroad such prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone:
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
Counting myself but bad, till I be best.—
I'll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

[Exit.

Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
What valiant foe-men, like to autumn's corn,
Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their
pride?

Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
For hardy and undoubted champions:
Two Cliffords, as the father and the son,
And two Northumberlands; two braver men
Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's
sound:

With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,

That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat,
And made our footstool of security.-
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy:-
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles, and my-
self,
[night;
Have in our armours watch'd the winter's
Went all a foot in summer's scalding heat,
That thou might'st repossess the crown in
peace;

And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain. Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;

For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
This shoulder was ordain'd so thick, to heave;
And heave it shall some weight, or break my
back:-

Work thou the way,—and thou shalt execute. [Aside. K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my

lovely queen;

And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
Clar. The duty that I owe unto your majesty,
I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy
brother, thanks.

Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit:To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master;

And cried-all hail! when as he meant -all harm.

Aside.

K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul de. lights,

Having my country's peace, and brothers loves.

Clar. What will your grace have done with
Margaret?

Reignier, her father, to the king of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence

to France. [time And now what rests, but that we spend the With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows, Such as befit the pleasures of the court?Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell, sour annoy!

For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

* Public showE.

Exennte

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London.-A Street.
Enter GLOSter.

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds, that lowr'd upon our house,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious
wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.*
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled
front;

And now, instead of mounting barbedt steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,-
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I,—that am not shap❜d for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's
majesty,

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time † Armed.

* Dances.

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them;-
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity;
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,--
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions* dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence, and the king,
In deadly hate the one against the other:"
And, if king Edward be as true and just,
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up;
About a prophecy, which says-that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Cla-

rence comes.

Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY
Brother, good day: What means this armed
guard,
That waits upon your grace?

* Preparations for mischief.