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North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief.
And by his Soul, thou and thy Houfe fhall rue it.
Weft. Plantagenet, of thee and thefe thy Sons,
Thy Kinfmen, and thy Friends, I'll have more lies
Than drops of Blood were in my Father's Veins.
Clif. Urge it no more, left that inftead of words
I fend thee, Warwick, fuch a Messenger,
As fhall revenge his Death, before I ftir.
War. Poor Clifford! how I fcorn his worthlefs Threats.
Tork, Will you, we fhew our Title to the Crown?
If not, our Swords fhall plead it in the Field.
K. Henry. What Title haft thou, Traitor, to the Crown?
Thy Father was, as thou art, Duke of York,
Thy Grandfather Roger Mortimer, Earl of March.
I am the Son of Henry the Fifth,
Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop,
And feiz'd upon their Towns and Provinces.
War. Talk not of France, fith thou haft loft it all.
K. Henry. The Lord Protector loft it, and not I;
When I was Crown'd I was but nine Months old.
Rich. You are old enough now,
And yet methinks you lofe:
Father, tear the Crown from the Ufurper's Head.
Edw. Sweet Father do fo, fet it on your Head.
Mount. Good Brother,
As thou lov'ft and honoureft Arms,
Let's fight it out, and not ftand cavelling thus.
Rich. Sound Drums and Trumpet, and the King will
Tork. Sons, Peace.
K. Henry. Peace thou, and give King Henry leave to speak.
War. Plantagenet shall speak firft: Here him Lords,
And be you filent and attentive too,
For he that interrupts him, thall not live.
K. Henry. Think'ft thou that I will leave my Kingly Throne,
Wherein my Grandfire and my Father fat?
No; firft fhall War unpeople this my Realm;
Ay, and their Colours often born in France,
And now in England, to our Hearts great Sorrow,
Shall be my Winding-fheet: Why faint you, Lords?
My Title's good, and better far than his.
War. But prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be King.
K. Henry. Henry the Fourth by Conqueft got the Crown.
York. 'Twas by Rebellion against his King.
K. Henry. I know not what to fay, my Title's weak: Tell me, may not a King adopt an Heir?
York. What then?
K. Henry. And if he may, then am I lawful King:
For Richard, in the view of many Lords,
Refign'd the Crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whole Heir my Father was, and I am his.
York. He rofe against him, being his Soveraign,
And made him to refign his Crown perforce.
War. Suppofe, my Lords, he did it unconstrain'd,
Think you 'cwere prejudicial to his Crown?
Exe. No; for he could not fo refign his Crown,
But that the next Heir fhould fucceed and reign.
K. Henry. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?
Exe. His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
York. Why whifper you, my Lords, and anfwer not?
Exe. My Confcience tells me, he is lawful King.
K. Henry. All will revolt from me, and turn to him,
North. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'ft,
Think not, that Henry fhall be depos'd.
War. Depos'd he fall be, in defpite of all.
North. Thou art deceiv'd:
'Tis not thy Southern Power
Of Effex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
Which makes thee thus prefumptuous and proud,
Can fet the Duke up in defpight of me.
Clif. King Henry, be thy Title right or wrong,
Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence;
May that ground gape, and fwallow me alive,
Where I shall kneel to him that flew my Father.
K. Henry. Oh Clifford, how thy words revive my Heart.
Tork. Henry of Lancaster, refign thy Crown:
What mutter you, or what confpire you, Lords?
War. Do right unto this Princely Duke of York,
Or I will fill the Houfe with armed Men,
And o'er the Chair of State, where now he fits,
Write up his Title with ufurping Blood.
[He ftamps with his foot, and the Soldiers fhew themselves.
K. Henry. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word;
Let me for this time reign as King.
York. Confirm the Crown to me, and to mine Heirs,
And thou shalt Reign in quiet while thou liv'ft,
K. Henry. I am content: Richard Plantagenet,
Enjoy the Kingdom after my decease.
Clif. What wrong is this unto the Prince, your Son?
War. What good is this to England, and himself?
Weft. Bafe, fearful, and defpairing Henry!
Clif. How haft thou injur'd both thy felf and us!
Weft. I cannot ftay to hear thefe Articles.
North. Nor I.
Clif. Come Coufin, let us tell the Queen thefe News.
Weft. Farewel, faint-hearted and degenerate King,
In whofe cold Blood no spark of Honour bides.
North. Be thou a prey unto the House of York,
And die in Bands, for this unmanly deed.
Clif. In dreadful War, may'ft thou be overcome, Or live in Peace abandon'd and defpis'd.
[Exeunt Nor. Cliff. Westm. War. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. Exe. They feek revenge, and therefore will not yield. K. Henry. Ah Exeter !
War. Why fhould you figh, my Lord?
K. Henry. Not for my felf, Lord Warwick, but my Son,
Whom I unnaturally fhall difinherit.
But be it as it may; I here entail
The Crown to thee, and to thine Heirs for ever:
Conditionally, that here you take an Oath,
To ceafe this Civil War; and whilft I live,
To honour me as thy King and Soveraign:
Neither by Treafon nor Hoftility,
To feek to put me down, and Reign thy felf.
York This Oath I willingly take, and will perform.
War. Long live King Henry: Plantagenet, embrace him.
K. Henry. And long live thou, and thefe thy forward Sons.
York. Now York and Lancaster are reconcil'd.
Exe. Accurft be he that feeks to make them Foes.
Sonet. Here they come down.
York. Farewel, my gracious Lord, I'll to my Caftle.
War. And I'll keep London with my Soldiers.
Norf. And I to Norfolk with my Followers.
Mount. And I unto the Sea from whence I came. [Exe.
K. Henry. And I with grief and forrow to the Court.
Enter the Queen, and the Prince of Wales.
Exe. Here comes the Queen,
Whofe looks bewray her anger:
I'll feal away.
K. Henry. Exeter fo will I:
Queen. Nay, go not from me, I will follow thee-
K. Henry. Be patient, gentle Queen, and I will stay.
Queen. Who can be patient in fuch extreams?
Ah wretched Man! would I had dy'd a Maid,
And never feen thee, never born thee Son,
Seeing thou haft prov'd fo unnatural a Father.
Hath he deferv'd to lofe his Birth-right thus?
Hadft thou but lov'd him half fo much as I,
Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
Or nourisht him, as I did with my Blood;
Thou wouldst have left thy dearest Heart-blood there,
Rather than made that Savage Duke thine Heir,
And difinherited thine only Son.
Prince. Father, you cannot difinherit me: If you be King, why should not I fucceed?
K. Henry. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, fweet Son; The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforc'd me.
Queen. Enforc'd thee? art thou King,and wilt be forc'd? I fhame to hear thee speak; ah timorous Wretch! Thou haft undone thy felf, thy Son, and me, And given unto the House of York fuch head, As thou shalt Reign but by their fufferance. To entail him and his Heirs unto the Crown, What is it, but to make thy Sepulchre, And creep into it far before thy time? Warwick is Chancellor, and the Lord of Calais, Stern Faulconbridge commands the narrow Seas, The Duke is made Protector of the Realm, And yet fhalt thou be fafe? fuch fafety finds The trembling Lamb, invironed with Wolves. Had I been there, which am a filly Woman, The Soldiers fhould have tofs'd me on their Pikes, Before I would have granted to that A&.
But thou preferr'ft thy Life before thine honour.
And feeing thou doft, I here divorce my self,
Both from thy Table, Henry, and thy Bed,
Until that Act of Parliament be repealed,
Whereby my Son is difinherited.
The Northern Lords, that have forfworn thy Colours,
Will follow mine, if once they fee them fpread:
And spread they shall be, to thy foul difgrace,
And utter ruin of the Houfe of York,
Thus do I leave thee; come Son, let's away,
Our Army is ready, come, we'll after them.
K. Henry. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me fpeak. Queen. Thou haft fpoke too much already; get thee
K. Henry. Gentle Son Edward, thou wilt ftay with me? Queen. Ay, to be murther'd by his Enemies.
Prince. When I return with Victory from the Field, I'll fee your Grace; 'till then I'll follow her.
Queen. Come, Sor, away, we may not linger thus. [Exeunt Queen and Prince.
K. Henry. Poor Queen,
How love to me, and to her Sɔn,
Hath made her break out into terms of Rage.
Reveng'd may the be on that hateful Duke,
Whofe haughty Spirit, winged with defire,
Will coft my Crown, and like an empty Eagle,
Tire on the Flesh of me, and of
and of my Son.
The lofs of thofe three Lords torments my Heart;
I'll write unto them, and intreat them fair;
Come, Coufin, you fhall be the Meffenger.
Exe. And I hope fhall reconcile them all.
Enter Richard, Edward, and Mountague.
Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.
Edw. No, I can better play the Orator.
Mount. But I have reafons ftrong and forcible.
Enter the Duke of York,
York. Why, how now Sons and Brother, at a ftrife?
What is your Quarrel? how began it first?
Edw. No Quarrel, but a flight Contention.
York. About what?
Rich. About that which concerns your Grace and us,
The Crown of England, Father, which is yours