Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave,
And there cut off thy most ungracious head,
Which I will bear in triumph to the King,
Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. Exit
Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours
YORK. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right
And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
Ring bells aloud, burn bonfires clear and bright,
To entertain great England's lawful king.
Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?
Let them obey that knows not how to rule;
This hand was made to handle nought but gold.
I cannot give due action to my words
Except a sword or sceptre balance it.
A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul
On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.
Enter BUCKINGHAM
[Aside] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
The King hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.
BUCKINGHAM. York, if thou meanest well I greet thee well.
YORK. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?
BUCKINGHAM. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
To know the reason of these arms in peace;
Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
Should raise so great a power without his leave,
Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.
YORK. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great.
O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
I am so angry at these abject terms;
And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
I am far better born than is the King,
More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts;
But I must make fair weather yet awhile,
Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.-
Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me
That I have given no answer all this while;
My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
The cause why I have brought this army hither
Is to remove proud Somerset from the King,
Seditious to his Grace and to the state.
BUCKINGHAM. That is too much presumption on thy part;
But if thy arms be to no other end,
The King hath yielded unto thy demand:
The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
YORK. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
BUCKINGHAM. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
YORK. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my pow'rs.
Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
You shall have pay and everything you wish.
And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
As pledges of my fealty and love.
I'll send them all as willing as I live:
Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have,
Is his to use, so Somerset may die.
BUCKINGHAM. York, I commend this kind submission.
We twain will go into his Highness' tent.
Enter the KING, and attendants
KING HENRY. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
YORK. In all submission and humility
York doth present himself unto your Highness.
KING HENRY. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?
YORK. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
Who since I heard to be discomfited.
Enter IDEN, with CADE's head
IDEN. If one so rude and of so mean condition
May pass into the presence of a king,
Lo, I present your Grace a traitor's head,
The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
KING HENRY. The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!
O, let me view his visage, being dead,
That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?
IDEN. I was, an't like your Majesty.
KING HENRY. How art thou call'd? And what is thy degree?
IDEN. Alexander Iden, that's my name;
A poor esquire of Kent that loves his king.
BUCKINGHAM. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
He were created knight for his good service.
KING HENRY. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels] Rise up a knight.
We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
And will that thou thenceforth attend on us.
IDEN. May Iden live to merit such a bounty,
And never live but true unto his liege!
Enter the QUEEN and SOMERSET
KING HENRY. See, Buckingham! Somerset comes with th' Queen:
Go, bid her hide 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-imprisoned 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 dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.

That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
Is able with the change to kill and cure.

Give place. By heaven, thou shalt rule no more
O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.
SOMERSET. 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.

QUEEN.
Exit BUCKINGHAM
YORK.
The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those
That for my surety will refuse the boys!
Enter EDWARD and RICHARD PLANTAGENET
See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good.
Enter CLIFFORD and his SON
QUEEN. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
CLIFFORD. Health and all happiness to my lord the King!
[Kneels]
YORK. I thank thee, Clifford. Say, what news with thee?
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look.
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
CLIFFORD. This is my King, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistakes me much to think I do.
To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad?
KING HENRY. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
Makes him oppose himself against his king.
CLIFFORD. He 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?
EDWARD. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
RICHARD. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.
CLIFFORD. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!
YORK. Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
I am thy king, and thou a false-heart 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.
Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALISBURY
CLIFFORD. Are these thy bears? We'll bait thy bears to death,
And manacle the berard in their chains,
If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.
RICHARD. Oft have I seen a hot o'er weening 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 cried;
And such a piece of service will you do,
If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.
CLIFFORD. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
YORK. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
CLIFFORD.
KING HENRY. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son!
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
O, 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 honourable 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 mickle age.
SALISBURY. My lord, I have considered with myself
The tide of this most renowned duke,
And in my conscience do repute his Grace
The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
KING HENRY. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
SALISBURY. I have.
KING HENRY. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?
SALISBURY. 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 murd'rous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
And have no other reason for this wrong
But that he was bound by a solemn oath?
QUEEN. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
KING HENRY. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
YORK. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
I am resolv'd for death or dignity.
CLIFFORD. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.
WARWICK. You were best to go to bed and dream again
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
CLIFFORD. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm
Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
WARWICK. 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.
CLIFFORD. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despite the berard that protects the bear.
YOUNG CLIFFORD. And so to arms, victorious father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.
RICHARD. Fie! charity, for shame! Speak not in spite,
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.
YOUNG CLIFFORD. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.
RICHARD. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.
Exeunt severally
Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK
WARWICK. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls;
And if thou dost not hide 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 hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter YORK
How now, my noble lord! what, all a-foot?
YORK. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed;
But match to match I have encount'red him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.
Enter OLD CLIFFORD
WARWICK. 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.
WARWICK. 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. Exit
CLIFFORD. What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?
YORK. With thy brave bearing should I be in love
But that thou art so fast mine enemy.
CLIFFORD. 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!
CLIFFORD. My soul and body on the action both!
YORK. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.
[They fight and CLIFFORD falls]
CLIFFORD. La fin couronne les oeuvres. [Dies]
YORK. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! Exit
Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
YOUNG CLIFFORD. Shame and confusion! All is on the rout;
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard.  Let no soldier fly.
He that is truly dedicate to war
Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself
Hath not essentially, but by circumstance,
The name of valour. [Sees his father's body]
O, 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 ruffian 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 Aeneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Aeneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.
Exit with the body
Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed
RICHARD. So, lie thou there;
For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset
Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:
Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. Exit
Fight. Excursions. Enter KING, QUEEN, and others
QUEEN. Away, my lord! You are slow; for shame, away!
KING HENRY. Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay.
QUEEN. What are you made of? You'll nor fight nor fly.
Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
To give the enemy way, and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.
[Alarum afar off]
If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape-
As well we may, if not through your neglect-
We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopp'd.
Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
YOUNG CLIFFORD. But that my heart's on future mischief set,
I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly;
But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
Away, for your relief! and we will live
To see their day and them our fortune give.
Away, my lord, away! Exeunt
Alarum. Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and soldiers, with drum and colours
YORK. Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
That winter lion, who in rage forgets
Aged contusions and all brush of time
And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
Repairs him with occasion? This happy day
Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,
If Salisbury be lost.
RICHARD. My noble father,
Three times to-day I holp him to his horse,
Three times bestrid him, thrice I led him off,
Persuaded him from any further act;
But still where danger was, still there I met him;
And like rich hangings in a homely house,
So was his will in his old feeble body.
But, noble as he is, look where he comes.
Enter SALISBURY
SALISBURY. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day!
By th' mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard:
God knows how long it is I have to live,
And it hath pleas'd Him that three times to-day
You have defended me from imminent death.
Well, lords, we have not got that which we have;
'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
Being opposites of such repairing nature.
YORK. I know our safety is to follow them;
For, as I hear, the King is fled to London
To call a present court of Parliament.
Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.
What says Lord Warwick? Shall we after them?
WARWICK. After them? Nay, before them, if we can.
Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day:
Saint Albans' battle, won by famous York,
Shall be eterniz'd in all age to come.
Sound drum and trumpets and to London all;
And more such days as these to us befall! Exeunt
1591
KING HENRY THE SIXTH
EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, his son
LEWIS XI, King of France DUKE OF SOMERSET
DUKE OF EXETER EARL OF OXFORD
EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND EARL OF WESTMORELAND
LORD CLIFFORD
RICHARD PLANTAGENET, DUKE OF YORK
EDWARD, EARL OF MARCH, afterwards KING EDWARD IV, his son
EDMUND, EARL OF RUTLAND, his son
GEORGE, afterwards DUKE OF CLARENCE, his son
RICHARD, afterwards DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, his son
DUKE OF NORFOLK MARQUIS OF MONTAGUE
EARL OF WARWICK EARL OF PEMBROKE
LORD HASTINGS LORD STAFFORD
SIR JOHN MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York
SIR HUGH MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York
HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, a youth
LORD RIVERS, brother to Lady Grey
SIR WILLIAM STANLEY SIR JOHN MONTGOMERY
SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE TUTOR, to Rutland
MAYOR OF YORK LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER
A NOBLEMAN TWO KEEPERS
A HUNTSMAN
A SON that has killed his father
A FATHER that has killed his son
QUEEN MARGARET
LADY GREY, afterwards QUEEN to Edward IV
BONA, sister to the French Queen
Soldiers, Attendants, Messengers, Watchmen, etc.
Alarum. Enter DUKE OF YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and soldiers, with white roses in their hats
WARWICK. I wonder how the King escap'd our hands.
YORK. While we pursu'd the horsemen of the north,
He slily stole away and left his men;
Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,
Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat,
Cheer'd up the drooping army, and himself,
Lord Clifford, and Lord Stafford, all abreast,
Charg'd our main battle's front, and, breaking in,
Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.
EDWARD. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either slain or wounded dangerous;
I cleft his beaver with a downright blow.
That this is true, father, behold his blood.
MONTAGUE. And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood,
Whom I encount'red as the battles join'd.
RICHARD. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.
[Throwing down SOMERSET'S head]
YORK. Richard hath best deserv'd of all my sons.
But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
NORFOLK. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
RICHARD. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.
WARWICK. And so do I. Victorious Prince of York,
Before I see thee seated in that throne
Which now the house of Lancaster usurps,
I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close.
This is the palace of the fearful King,
And this the regal seat. Possess it, York;
For this is thine, and not King Henry's heirs'.
YORK. Assist me then, sweet Warwick, and I will;
For hither we have broken in by force.
NORFOLK. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die.
YORK. Thanks, gentle Norfolk.
[They go up]
WARWICK. And when the King comes, offer him no violence.
Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.
YORK. The Queen this day here holds her parliament,
But little thinks we shall be of her council.
By words or blows here let us win our right.
RICHARD. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.
WARWICK. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be King,
And bashful Henry depos'd, whose cowardice
Hath made us by-words to our enemies.
YORK. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute:
I mean to take possession of my right.
WARWICK. Neither the King, nor he that loves him best,
The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
Dares stir a wing if Warwick shake his bells.
I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares.
Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
[YORK occupies the throne]
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,
WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and others, with red roses in
their hats
KING HENRY. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
Even in the chair of state! Belike he means,
Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.
Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father;
And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge
On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends.
NORTHUMBERLAND. If I be not, heavens be reveng'd on me!
CLIFFORD. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.
WESTMORELAND. What, shall we suffer this? Let's pluck him down;
My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
KING HENRY. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
CLIFFORD.
My gracious lord, here in the parliament
Let us assail the family of York.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Well hast thou spoken, cousin; be it so.
KING HENRY. Ah, know you not the city favours them,
And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?
EXETER. But when the Duke is slain they'll quickly fly.
KING HENRY. Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart,
To make a shambles of the parliament house!
Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats,
Shall be the war that Henry means to use.
Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne
And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet;
I am thy sovereign.
YORK. I am thine.
EXETER. For shame, come down; he made thee Duke of York.
YORK. 'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was.
EXETER. Thy father was a traitor to the crown.
WARWICK. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown
In following this usurping Henry.
CLIFFORD. Whom should he follow but his natural king?
WARWICK. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York.
KING HENRY. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?
YORK. It must and shall be so; content thyself.
WARWICK. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be King.
WESTMORELAND. He is both King and Duke of Lancaster;
And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
WARWICK. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget
That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
March'd through the city to the palace gates.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief;
And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.
WESTMORELAND. Plantagenet, of thee, and these thy sons,
Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives
Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.
CLIFFORD. Urge it no more; lest that instead of words
I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger
As shall revenge his death before I stir.
WARWICK.
YORK. Will you we show our title to the crown?
If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
KING HENRY. What title hast 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 seiz'd upon their towns and provinces.
WARWICK. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.
KING HENRY. The Lord Protector lost it, and not I:
When I was crown'd, I was but nine months old.
RICHARD.
Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.
EDWARD. Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.
MONTAGUE. Good brother, as thou lov'st and honourest arms,
Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.
RICHARD. Sound drums and trumpets, and the King will fly.
YORK. Sons, peace!
KING HENRY. Peace thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.
WARWICK. Plantagenet shall speak first. Hear him, lords;
And be you silent and attentive too,
For he that interrupts him shall not live.
KING HENRY. Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
No; first shall war unpeople this my realm;
Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
My title's good, and better far than his.
WARWICK. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be King.
KING HENRY. Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.
YORK. 'Twas by rebellion against his king.
KING HENRY. [Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-
Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
YORK. What then?
KING HENRY. An if he may, then am I lawful King;
For Richard, in the view of many lords,
Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
YORK. He rose against him, being his sovereign,
And made him to resign his crown perforce.
WARWICK.
EXETER. No; for he could not so resign his crown
But that the next heir should succeed and reign.
KING HENRY. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?
EXETER. His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
YORK. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?
EXETER. My conscience tells me he is lawful King.
KING HENRY. [Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st,
Think not that Henry shall be so depos'd.
WARWICK. Depos'd he shall be, in despite of all.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Thou art deceiv'd. 'Tis not thy southern power
Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,
Can set the Duke up in despite of me.
CLIFFORD. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence.
May that ground gape, and swallow me alive,
Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!
KING HENRY. O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!
YORK. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.

WARWICK. Do right unto this princely Duke of York;
Or I will fill the house with armed men,
And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
Write up his title with usurping blood.
[He stamps with his foot and the
soldiers show themselves]
KING HENRY. My Lord of Warwick, hear but one word:
Let me for this my life-time reign as king.
YORK. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,
And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv'st.
KING HENRY. I am content. Richard Plantagenet,
Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.
CLIFFORD. What wrong is this unto the Prince your son!
WARWICK. What good is this to England and himself!
WESTMORELAND. Base, fearful, and despairing Henry!
CLIFFORD. How hast thou injur'd both thyself and or us!
WESTMORELAND. I cannot stay to hear these articles.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Nor I.
CLIFFORD. Come, cousin, let us tell the Queen these news.
WESTMORELAND. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Be thou a prey unto the house of York
And die in bands for this unmanly deed!
CLIFFORD. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
Or live in peace abandon'd and despis'd!
Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD,
and WESTMORELAND
WARWICK. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.
EXETER. They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield.
KING HENRY. Ah, Exeter!
WARWICK. Why should you sigh, my lord?
KING HENRY. Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
But be it as it may. [To YORK] I here entail
The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever;
Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
To honour me as thy king and sovereign,
And neither by treason nor hostility
To seek to put me down and reign thyself.
YORK. This oath I willingly take, and will perform.
[Coming from the throne]
WARWICK. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him.
KING HENRY. And long live thou, and these thy forward sons!
YORK. Now York and Lancaster are reconcil'd.
EXETER. Accurs'd be he that seeks to make them foes!
[Sennet. Here they come down]
YORK. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle.
WARWICK. And I'll keep London with my soldiers.
NORFOLK. And I to Norfolk with my followers.
MONTAGUE. And I unto the sea, from whence I came.
Exeunt the YORKISTS
KING HENRY. And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.
Enter QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE OF WALES
EXETER. Here comes the Queen, whose looks bewray her anger.
I'll steal away.
KING HENRY. Exeter, so will I.
QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.
KING HENRY. Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.
QUEEN MARGARET. Who can be patient in such extremes?
Ah, wretched man! Would I had died a maid,
And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
Seeing thou hast prov'd so unnatural a father!
Hath he deserv'd to lose his birthright thus?
Hadst thou but lov'd him half so well as I,
Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood,
Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there
Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir,
And disinherited thine only son.
PRINCE OF WALES. Father, you cannot disinherit me.
If you be King, why should not I succeed?
KING HENRY. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son.
The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforc'd me.
QUEEN MARGARET. Enforc'd thee! Art thou King and wilt be
forc'd?
I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me;
And giv'n unto the house of York such head
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
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 Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
The Duke is made Protector of the realm;
And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds
The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes
Before I would have granted to that act.
But thou prefer'st thy life before thine honour;
And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself,
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
Until that act of parliament be repeal'd
Whereby my son is disinherited.
The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace
And utter ruin of the house of York.
Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away;
Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.
KING HENRY. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.
QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hast spoke too much already; get thee gone.
KING HENRY. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?
QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies.
PRINCE OF WALES. When I return with victory from the field
I'll see your Grace; till then I'll follow her.
QUEEN MARGARET. Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.
Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE
KING HENRY. Poor queen! How love to me and to her son
Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
Reveng'd may she be on that hateful Duke,
Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle
Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!
The loss of those three lords torments my heart.
I'll write unto them, and entreat them fair;
Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger.
EXETER. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. Exeunt
Flourish. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE
RICHARD. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.
EDWARD. No, I can better play the orator.
MONTAGUE. But I have reasons strong and forcible.
Enter the DUKE OF YORK
YORK. Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
What is your quarrel? How began it first?
EDWARD. No quarrel, but a slight contention.
YORK. About what?
RICHARD. About that which concerns your Grace and us-
The crown of England, father, which is yours.
YORK. Mine, boy? Not till King Henry be dead.
RICHARD. Your right depends not on his life or death.
EDWARD. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now.
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
It will outrun you, father, in the end.
YORK. I took an oath that he should quietly reign.
EDWARD. But for a kingdom any oath may be broken:
I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.
RICHARD.
YORK. I shall be, if I claim by open war.
RICHARD. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.
YORK. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.
RICHARD. An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate
That hath authority over him that swears.
Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms. And, father, do but think
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
Within whose circuit is Elysium
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
Until the white rose that I wear be dy'd
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
YORK. Richard, enough; I will be King, or die.
Brother, thou shalt to London presently
And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk
And tell him privily of our intent.

While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more
But that I seek occasion how to rise,
And yet the King not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
Enter a MESSENGER
But, stay. What news? Why com'st thou in such post?
MESSENGER.
She is hard by with twenty thousand men;
And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.
YORK. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them?
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
My brother Montague shall post to London.
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we have left protectors of the King,
With pow'rful policy strengthen themselves
And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.
MONTAGUE. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not.
And thus most humbly I do take my leave. Exit
Enter SIR JOHN and SIR HUGH MORTIMER
YORK. Sir john and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles!
You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
The army of the Queen mean to besiege us.
SIR JOHN. She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field.
YORK. What, with five thousand men?
RICHARD. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
A woman's general; what should we fear?
[A march afar off]
EDWARD. I hear their drums. Let's set our men in order,
And issue forth and bid them battle straight.
YORK. Five men to twenty! Though the odds be great,
I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
Many a battle have I won in France,
When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
Why should I not now have the like success? Exeunt
Alarum. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR
RUTLAND. Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands?

Enter CLIFFORD and soldiers
CLIFFORD. Chaplain, away! Thy priesthood saves thy life.
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
TUTOR. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
CLIFFORD. Soldiers, away with him!
TUTOR. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
Lest thou be hated both of God and man.
Exit, forced off by soldiers
CLIFFORD.  Or is it fear
That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
RUTLAND. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
That trembles under his devouring paws;
And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,
And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.

I am too mean a subject for thy wrath;
Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live.
CLIFFORD. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
RUTLAND. Then let my father's blood open it again:
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
CLIFFORD. Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine
Were not revenge sufficient for me;
No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart.
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul;
And till I root out their accursed line
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore-
RUTLAND. O, let me pray before I take my death!
To thee I pray: sweet Clifford, pity me.
CLIFFORD. Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
RUTLAND. I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me?
CLIFFORD. Thy father hath.
RUTLAND. But 'twas ere I was born.
Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,
Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,
He be as miserably slain as I.
Ah, let me live in prison all my days;
And when I give occasion of offence
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
CLIFFORD. No cause!
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Stabs him]
RUTLAND. Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! [Dies]
CLIFFORD.  Exit
Alarum. Enter the DUKE OF YORK
YORK. The army of the Queen hath got the field.
My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
And all my followers to the eager foe
Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind,
Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves.
My sons- God knows what hath bechanced them;
But this I know- they have demean'd themselves
Like men born to renown by life or death.
Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out.'
And full as oft came Edward to my side
With purple falchion, painted to the hilt
In blood of those that had encount'red him.
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cried 'Charge, and give no foot of ground!'
And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
With this we charg'd again; but out alas!
We bodg'd again; as I have seen a swan
With bootless labour swim against the tide
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
[A short alarum within]
Ah, hark! The fatal followers do pursue,
And I am faint and cannot fly their fury;
And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.
The sands are numb'red that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
CLIFFORD. Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm
With downright payment show'd unto my father.
Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,
And made an evening at the noontide prick.
YORK. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
A bird that will revenge upon you all;
And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,
Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
Why come you not? What! multitudes, and fear?
CLIFFORD. So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.
YORK. O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
And in thy thought o'errun my former time;
And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face,
And bite thy tongue that slanders him with cowardice
Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this!
CLIFFORD. I will not bandy with thee word for word,
But buckler with thee blows, twice two for one.
QUEEN MARGARET. Hold, valiant Clifford; for a thousand causes
I would prolong awhile the traitor's life.
Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much
To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.
What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
When he might spurn him with his foot away?
It is war's prize to take all vantages;
And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
[They lay hands on YORK, who struggles]
CLIFFORD. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin.
NORTHUMBERLAND. So doth the cony struggle in the net.
YORK. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;
So true men yield, with robbers so o'er-match'd.
NORTHUMBERLAND. What would your Grace have done unto him now?
QUEEN MARGARET. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
Come, make him stand upon this molehill here
That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
What, was it you that would be England's king?
Was't you that revell'd in our parliament
And made a preachment of your high descent?
Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
The wanton Edward and the lusty George?
And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood
That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point
Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
And if thine eyes can water for his death,
I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.

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.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport;
York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.
A crown for York!-and, lords, bow low to him.
Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on.
[Putting a paper crown on his head]
Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair,
And this is he was his adopted heir.
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crown'd so soon and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be King
Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.

CLIFFORD. That is my office, for my father's sake.
QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes.
YORK. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth!

To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom deriv'd,
Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.
Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,
Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem,
Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;
Unless the adage must be verified,
That beggars mounted run their horse to death.
'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;
But, God He knows, thy share thereof is small.
'Tis virtue that doth make them most admir'd;
The contrary doth make thee wond'red at.
'Tis government that makes them seem divine;
The want thereof makes thee abominable.
Thou art as opposite to every good
As the Antipodes are unto us,
Or as the south to the septentrion.
O tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!
How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
And yet be seen to bear a woman's face?
Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible:
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 Frenchwoman.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Beshrew me, but his passions 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-
O, ten times more- than tigers of Hyrcania.
See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears.
This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet boy,
And I with tears do wash the blood away.
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this;
And if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;
Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears
And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!'
There, take the crown, and with the crown my curse;
And in thy need such comfort come to thee
As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!
Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world;
My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
NORTHUMBERLAND. Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin,
I should not for my life but weep with him,
To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.
QUEEN MARGARET. What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
And that will quickly dry thy melting tears.
CLIFFORD. Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death.
[Stabbing him]
QUEEN MARGARET. 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]
QUEEN MARGARET. Off with his head, and set it on York gates;
So York may overlook the town of York.
Flourish. Exeunt
A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power
EDWARD. I wonder how our princely father scap'd,
Or whether he be scap'd 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 scap'd, methinks we should have heard
The happy tidings of his good escape.
How fares my brother? Why is he so sad?
RICHARD. I cannot joy until I be resolv'd
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;
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.
So far'd our father with his enemies;
So fled his enemies my warlike father.
Methinks 'tis prize enough to be his son.
See how the morning opes her golden gates
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun.
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!
EDWARD. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
RICHARD. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
Not separated with the racking clouds,
But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
As if they vow'd some league inviolable.
Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
In this the heaven figures some event.
EDWARD. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
Each one already blazing by our meeds,
Should notwithstanding join our lights together
And overshine the earth, as this the world.
Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
Upon my target three fair shining suns.
RICHARD. Nay, bear three daughters- by your leave I speak it,
You love the breeder better than the male.
Enter a MESSENGER, blowing
But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?
MESSENGER. Ah, one that was a woeful looker-on
When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
Your princely father and my loving lord!
EDWARD. O, speak no more! for I have heard too much.
RICHARD. Say how he died, for I will hear it all.
MESSENGER. Environed he was with many foes,
And stood against them as the hope of Troy
Against the Greeks that would have ent'red Troy.
But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hews down and fells the hardest-timber'd oak.
By many hands your father was subdu'd;
But only slaught'red by the ireful arm
Of unrelenting Clifford and the Queen,
Who crown'd the gracious Duke in high despite,
Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept,
The ruthless Queen gave him to dry his cheeks
A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain;
And after many scorns, many foul taunts,
They took his head, and on the gates of York
They set the same; and there it doth remain,
The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.
EDWARD. Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,
Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford, thou hast slain
The flow'r of Europe for his chivalry;
And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.

Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
For never henceforth shall I joy again;
Never, O never, shall I see more joy.
RICHARD. I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden,
For self-same wind that I should speak withal
Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me!
Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
Or die renowned by attempting it.
EDWARD. His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
RICHARD. Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun;
For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom, say:
Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.
March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army
WARWICK. How now, fair lords! What fare? What news abroad?
RICHARD. Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
Our baleful news and at each word's deliverance
Stab poinards in our flesh till all were told,
The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!
EDWARD. O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet
Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption
Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.
WARWICK. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
I come to tell you things sith then befall'n.
After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
Where your brave father breath'd his latest gasp,
Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
I, then in London, keeper of the King,
Muster'd my soldiers, gathered flocks of friends,
And very well appointed, as I thought,
March'd toward Saint Albans to intercept the Queen,
Bearing the King in my behalf along;
For by my scouts I was advertised
That she was coming with a full intent
To dash our late decree in parliament
Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
Short tale to make- we at Saint Albans met,
Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought;
But whether 'twas the coldness of the King,
Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen,
Or whether 'twas report of her success,
Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
I cannot judge; but, to conclude with truth,
Their weapons like to lightning came and went:
Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight
Or like an idle thresher with a flail,
Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause,
With promise of high pay and great rewards,
But all in vain; they had no heart to fight,
And we in them no hope to win the day;
So that we fled: the King unto the Queen;
Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself,
In haste post-haste are come to join with you;
For in the marches here we heard you were
Making another head to fight again.
EDWARD. Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
And when came George from Burgundy to England?
WARWICK. Some six miles off the Duke is with the soldiers;
And for your brother, he was lately sent
From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
With aid of soldiers to this needful war.
RICHARD. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled.
Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.
WARWICK. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head
And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war
As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer.
RICHARD. I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not.
'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
But in this troublous time what's to be done?

Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say 'Ay,' and to it, lords.
WARWICK. Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out;
And therefore comes my brother Montague.
Attend me, lords. The proud insulting Queen,
With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
And of their feather many moe proud birds,
Have wrought the easy-melting King like wax.
He swore consent to your succession,
His oath enrolled in the parliament;
And now to London all the crew are gone
To frustrate both his oath and what beside
May make against the house of Lancaster.
Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong.
Now if the help of Norfolk and myself,
With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
But never once again turn back and fly.
RICHARD. Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak.
Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day
That cries 'Retire!' if Warwick bid him stay.
EDWARD. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
And when thou fail'st- as God forbid the hour!-
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend.
WARWICK. No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York;
The next degree is England's royal throne,
For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
In every borough as we pass along;
And he that throws not up his cap for joy
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown,
But sound the trumpets and about our task.
RICHARD. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it or to give thee mine.
EDWARD. Then strike up drums. God and Saint George for us!
Enter a MESSENGER
WARWICK. How now! what news?
MESSENGER. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me
The Queen is coming with a puissant host,
And craves your company for speedy counsel.
WARWICK. Why, then it sorts; brave warriors, let's away.
Exeunt
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE OF WALES, CLIFFORD,
NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets
QUEEN MARGARET. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy
That sought to be encompass'd with your crown.
Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
KING HENRY. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck-
To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
Withhold revenge, dear God; 'tis not my fault,
Nor wittingly have I infring'd my vow.
CLIFFORD. My gracious liege, this too much lenity
And harmful pity must be laid aside.
To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
Not his that spoils her young before her face.
Who scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?

Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows.

Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
Who hath not seen them- even with those wings
Which sometime they have us'd with fearful flight-
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
Were it not pity that this goodly boy
Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
And long hereafter say unto his child
'What my great-grandfather and grandsire got
My careless father fondly gave away'?
Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
KING HENRY. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
Inferring arguments of mighty force.
But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
That things ill got had ever bad success?
And happy always was it for that son
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
And would my father had left me no more!
For all the rest is held at such a rate
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep
Than in possession any jot of pleasure.
Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know
How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!
QUEEN MARGARET.

Edward, kneel down.
KING HENRY. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
And learn this lesson: Draw thy sword in right.
PRINCE OF WALES. My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,
And in that quarrel use it to the death.
CLIFFORD. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.
Enter a MESSENGER
MESSENGER. Royal commanders, be in readiness;
For with a band of thirty thousand men
Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York,
And in the towns, as they do march along,
Proclaims him king, and many fly to him.
Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.
CLIFFORD. I would your Highness would depart the field:
The Queen hath best success when you are absent.
QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.
KING HENRY. Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay.
NORTHUMBERLAND. Be it with resolution, then, to fight.
PRINCE OF WALES. My royal father, cheer these noble lords,
And hearten those that fight in your defence.

March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK,
NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and soldiers
EDWARD. Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace
And set thy diadem upon my head,
Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
QUEEN MARGARET.
Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?
EDWARD. I am his king, and he should bow his knee.
I was adopted heir by his consent:
Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
You that are King, though he do wear the crown,
Have caus'd him by new act of parliament
To blot out me and put his own son in.
CLIFFORD. And reason too:
Who should succeed the father but the son?
RICHARD. Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!
CLIFFORD. Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,
Or any he, the proudest of thy sort.
RICHARD. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?
CLIFFORD. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.
RICHARD. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
WARWICK. What say'st thou, Henry? Wilt thou yield the crown?
QUEEN MARGARET. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick! Dare you speak?
When you and I met at Saint Albans last
Your legs did better service than your hands.
WARWICK. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.
CLIFFORD. You said so much before, and yet you fled.
WARWICK. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
NORTHUMBERLAND. No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.
RICHARD. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
The execution of my big-swol'n heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
CLIFFORD. I slew thy father; call'st thou him a child?
RICHARD.
KING HENRY. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
QUEEN MARGARET. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.
KING HENRY. I prithee give no limits to my tongue:
I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.
CLIFFORD. My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.
RICHARD. Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
By Him that made us all, I am resolv'd
That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.
EDWARD. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day
That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.
WARWICK. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
For York in justice puts his armour on.
PRINCE OF WALES. If that be right which Warwick says is right,
There is no wrong, but every thing is right.
RICHARD. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.
QUEEN MARGARET. But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam;
But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,
Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
As venom toads or lizards' dreadful stings.
RICHARD. Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king-
As if a channel should be call'd the sea-
Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?
EDWARD. A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns
To make this shameless callet know herself.
Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
And ne'er was Agamemmon's brother wrong'd
By that false woman as this king by thee.
His father revell'd in the heart of France,
And tam'd the King, and made the Dauphin stoop;
And had he match'd according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day;
But when he took a beggar to his bed
And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day,
Even then that sunshine brew'd a show'r for him
That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France
And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?
Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
And we, in pity of the gentle King,
Had slipp'd our claim until another age.
GEORGE. But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,
And that thy summer bred us no increase,
We set the axe to thy usurping root;
And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
Yet know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down,
Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.
EDWARD. And in this resolution I defy thee;
Not willing any longer conference,
Since thou deniest the gentle King to speak.

QUEEN MARGARET. Stay, Edward.
EDWARD. No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay;
These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.
Exeunt
Alarum; excursions. Enter WARWICK
WARWICK. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,
I lay me down a little while to breathe;
For strokes receiv'd and many blows repaid
Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile.
Enter EDWARD, running
EDWARD. Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death;
For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.
WARWICK. How now, my lord. What hap? What hope of good?
Enter GEORGE
GEORGE. Our hap is lost, our hope but sad despair;
Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us.
What counsel give you? Whither shall we fly?
EDWARD. Bootless is flight: they follow us with wings;
And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit.
Enter RICHARD
RICHARD. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
And in the very pangs of death he cried,
Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
'Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death.'
So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.
WARWICK. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood.

Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage,
And look upon, as if the tragedy
Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
Here on my knee I vow to God above
I'll never pause again, never stand still,
Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine
Or fortune given me measure of revenge.
EDWARD. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine,
And in this vow do chain my soul to thine!
And ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face
I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee,
Thou setter-up and plucker-down of kings,
Beseeching Thee, if with Thy will it stands
That to my foes this body must be prey,
Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope
And give sweet passage to my sinful soul.
Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth.
RICHARD. Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick,
Let me embrace thee in my weary arms.
I that did never weep now melt with woe
That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
WARWICK. Away, away! Once more, sweet lords, farewell.
GEORGE. Yet let us all together to our troops,
And give them leave to fly that will not stay,
And call them pillars that will stand to us;
And if we thrive, promise them such rewards
As victors wear at the Olympian games.
This may plant courage in their quailing breasts,
For yet is hope of life and victory.
Forslow no longer; make we hence amain. Exeunt
Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD
RICHARD. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone.
Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.
CLIFFORD. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone.
This is the hand that stabbed thy father York;
And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
And here's the heart that triumphs in their death
And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother
To execute the like upon thyself;
And so, have at thee! [They fight]
Enter WARWICK; CLIFFORD flies
RICHARD. Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;
For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. Exeunt
Alarum. Enter KING HENRY alone
KING HENRY. This battle fares like to the morning's war,
When dying clouds contend with growing light,
What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea
Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind;
Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea
Forc'd to retire by fury of the wind.
Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind;
Now one the better, then another best;
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
Yet neither conqueror nor conquered.
So is the equal poise of this fell war.
Here on this molehill will I sit me down.
To whom God will, there be the victory!
For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
Have chid me from the battle, swearing both
They prosper best of all when I am thence.
Would I were dead, if God's good will were so!
For what is in this world but grief and woe?
O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run-
How many makes the hour full complete,
How many hours brings about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the times-
So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my rest;
So many hours must I contemplate;
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will can;
So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely!
Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds looking on their silly sheep,
Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
O yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth.
And to conclude: the shepherd's homely curds,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
Is far beyond a prince's delicates-
His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,
When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.
Alarum. Enter a son that hath kill'd his Father, at
one door; and a FATHER that hath kill'd his Son, at
another door
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,
Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd.
O heavy times, begetting such events!
From London by the King was I press'd forth;
My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man,
Came on the part of York, press'd by his master;
And I, who at his hands receiv'd 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.

KING HENRY. O piteous spectacle!
Whiles 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'ercharg'd with grief.
Enter FATHER, bearing of his SON
FATHER. Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me,
Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold;
For I have bought it with an hundred blows.
But let me see. Is this our foeman's face?
Ah, no, no, no, no, it is mine only son!
Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,
Throw up thine eye! See, see what show'rs arise,
Blown with the windy tempest of my heart
Upon thy wounds, that kills mine eye and heart!
O, pity, God, this miserable age!
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!
KING HENRY. 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 colours of our striving houses:
The one his purple blood right well resembles;
The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth.
Wither one rose, and let the other flourish!
If you contend, a thousand lives must perish.
SON.
FATHER. How will my wife for slaughter of my son
Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied!
KING HENRY. How will the country for these woeful chances
Misthink the King, and not be satisfied!
SON. Was ever son so rued a father's death?
FATHER. Was ever father so bemoan'd his son?
KING HENRY. Was ever king so griev'd for subjects' woe?
Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much.
SON. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.
Exit with the body
FATHER. 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 obsequious will thy father be,
Even 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.
Exit with the body
KING HENRY. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care,
Here sits a king more woeful than you are.
Alarums, excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET,
PRINCE OF WALES, and EXETER
PRINCE OF WALES. Fly, father, fly; for all your friends are fled,
And Warwick rages like a chafed bull.
Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit.
QUEEN MARGARET. Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain.

EXETER. Away! for vengeance comes along with them.
Nay, stay not to expostulate; make speed;
Or else come after. I'll away before.
KING HENRY. 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
A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded
CLIFFORD. Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies,
Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light.

My love and fear glu'd many friends to thee;
And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts,
Impairing Henry, strength'ning misproud 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 Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds,
Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!
And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd 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;
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 deserv'd 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 stabb'd your fathers' bosoms: split my breast.
[He faints]
Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD
MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and soldiers
EDWARD. 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, fill'd with a fretting gust,
Command an argosy to stern the waves.
But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
WARWICK. No, 'tis impossible he should escape;
For, though before his face I speak the words,
Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave;
And, whereso'er he is, he's surely dead.
[CLIFFORD groans, and dies]
RICHARD. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?
A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.
See who it is.
EDWARD. And now the battle's ended,
If friend or foe, let him be gently used.
RICHARD. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
But set his murd'ring knife unto the root
From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring-
I mean our princely father, Duke of York.
WARWICK. 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.
EDWARD. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
That nothing sung but death to us and ours.

WARWICK. I think his understanding is bereft.
Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?
Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
And he nor sees nor hears us what we say.
RICHARD. O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth.
'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
Which in the time of death he gave our father.
GEORGE. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
RICHARD. Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace.
EDWARD. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
WARWICK. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
GEORGE. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
RICHARD. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
EDWARD. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee.
GEORGE. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?
WARWICK. They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast wont.
RICHARD. What, not an oath? Nay, then the world goes hard
When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
I know by that he's dead; and by my soul,
If this right hand would buy two hours' life,
That I in all despite might rail at him,
This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
WARWICK. Ay, but he's dead. Off with the traitor's head,
And rear it in the place your father's stands.
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal King;
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen.
So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatt'red foe that hopes to rise again;
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears.
First will I see the coronation;
And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea
To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.
EDWARD. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be;
For in thy shoulder do I build my seat,
And never will I undertake the thing
Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester;
And George, of Clarence; Warwick, as ourself,
Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best.
RICHARD. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester;
For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.
WARWICK. Tut, that's a foolish observation.
Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London
To see these honours in possession. Exeunt
Enter two KEEPERS, with cross-bows in their hands
FIRST KEEPER. Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves,
For through this laund anon the deer will come;
And in this covert will we make our stand,
Culling the principal of all the deer.
SECOND KEEPER. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
FIRST KEEPER. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best;
And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
I'll tell thee what befell me on a day
In this self-place where now we mean to stand.
SECOND KEEPER. Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.
Enter KING HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book
KING HENRY. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love,
To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;
Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed.
No bending knee will call thee Caesar now,
No humble suitors press to speak for right,
No, not a man comes for redress of thee;
For how can I help them and not myself?
FIRST KEEPER. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee.
This is the quondam King; let's seize upon him.
KING HENRY. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity,
For wise men say it is the wisest course.
SECOND KEEPER. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.
FIRST KEEPER. Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.
KING HENRY. My Queen and son are gone to France for aid;
And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone to crave the French King's sister
To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost;
For Warwick is a subtle orator,
And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
By this account, then, Margaret may win him;
For she's a woman to be pitied much.
Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse
To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but she's come to beg: Warwick, to give.
She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry:
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and says her Henry is depos'd:
He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
And in conclusion wins the King from her
With promise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn!
SECOND KEEPER. Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens?
KING HENRY. More than I seem, and less than I was born to:
A man at least, for less I should not be;
And men may talk of kings, and why not I?
SECOND KEEPER. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.
KING HENRY. Why, so I am- in mind; and that's enough.
SECOND KEEPER. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?
KING HENRY. My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones,
Not to be seen. My crown is call'd content;
A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
SECOND KEEPER.
KING HENRY. But did you never swear, and break an oath?
SECOND KEEPER. No, never such an oath; nor will not now.
KING HENRY. Where did you dwell when I was King of England?
SECOND KEEPER. Here in this country, where we now remain.
KING HENRY. I was anointed king at nine months old;
My father and my grandfather were kings;
And you were sworn true subjects unto me;
And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?
FIRST KEEPER. No;
For we were subjects but while you were king.
KING HENRY. Why, am I dead? Do I not breathe a man?
Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear!
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Commanded always by the greater gust,
Such is the lightness of you common men.
But do not break your oaths; for of that sin
My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the King shall be commanded;
And be you kings: command, and I'll obey.
FIRST KEEPER. We are true subjects to the King, King Edward.
KING HENRY. So would you be again to Henry,
If he were seated as King Edward is.
FIRST KEEPER. We charge you, in God's name and the King's,
To go with us unto the officers.
KING HENRY. In God's name, lead; your King's name be obey'd;
And what God will, that let your King perform;
And what he will, I humbly yield unto. Exeunt
Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY
KING EDWARD. Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans' field
This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,
His land then seiz'd on by the conqueror.
Her suit is now to repossess those lands;
Which we in justice cannot well deny,
Because in quarrel of the house of York
The worthy gentleman did lose his life.
GLOUCESTER. Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit;
It were dishonour to deny it her.
KING EDWARD. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so?
I see the lady hath a thing to grant,
Before the King will grant her humble suit.
CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game; how true he
keeps the wind!
GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Silence!
KING EDWARD. Widow, we will consider of your suit;
And come some other time to know our mind.
LADY GREY. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay.
May it please your Highness to resolve me now;
And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Ay, widow?
Fight closer or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.
CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she chance
to fall.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that, for he'll take
vantages.
KING EDWARD. How many children hast thou, widow, tell me.
CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a child of
her.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, then whip me; he'll rather
give her two.
LADY GREY. Three, my most gracious lord.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside] You shall have four if you'll be rul'd by him.
KING EDWARD. 'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands.
LADY GREY. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it, then.
KING EDWARD. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.
GLOUCESTER.
[GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE withdraw]
KING EDWARD. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
LADY GREY. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
KING EDWARD. And would you not do much to do them good?
LADY GREY. To do them good I would sustain some harm.
KING EDWARD. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.
LADY GREY. Therefore I came unto your Majesty.
KING EDWARD. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.
LADY GREY. So shall you bind me to your Highness' service.
KING EDWARD. What service wilt thou do me if I give them?
LADY GREY. What you command that rests in me to do.
KING EDWARD. But you will take exceptions to my boon.
LADY GREY. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.
KING EDWARD. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
LADY GREY. Why, then I will do what your Grace commands.
GLOUCESTER. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.
CLARENCE. As red as fire! Nay, then her wax must melt.
LADY GREY. Why stops my lord? Shall I not hear my task?
KING EDWARD. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.
LADY GREY. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.
KING EDWARD. Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.
LADY GREY. I take my leave with many thousand thanks.
GLOUCESTER. The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.
KING EDWARD. But stay thee- 'tis the fruits of love I mean.
LADY GREY. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.
KING EDWARD. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
What love, thinkst thou, I sue so much to get?
LADY GREY. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;
That love which virtue begs and virtue grants.
KING EDWARD. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.
LADY GREY. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.
KING EDWARD. But now you partly may perceive my mind.
LADY GREY. My mind will never grant what I perceive
Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright.
KING EDWARD. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
LADY GREY. To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.
KING EDWARD. Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.
LADY GREY. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower;
For by that loss I will not purchase them.
KING EDWARD. Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.
LADY GREY. Herein your Highness wrongs both them and me.
But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
Accords not with the sadness of my suit.
Please you dismiss me, either with ay or no.
KING EDWARD. Ay, if thou wilt say ay to my request;
No, if thou dost say no to my demand.
LADY GREY. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.
GLOUCESTER. The widow likes him not; she knits her brows.
CLARENCE. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.
KING EDWARD. [Aside] Her looks doth argue her replete with modesty;
Her words doth show her wit incomparable;
All her perfections challenge sovereignty.
One way or other, she is for a king;
And she shall be my love, or else my queen.
Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?
LADY GREY. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord.
I am a subject fit to jest withal,
But far unfit to be a sovereign.
KING EDWARD. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee
I speak no more than what my soul intends;
And that is to enjoy thee for my love.
LADY GREY. And that is more than I will yield unto.
I know I am too mean to be your queen,
And yet too good to be your concubine.
KING EDWARD. You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.
LADY GREY.
KING EDWARD.No more than when my daughters call thee mother.
Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children;
And, by God's Mother, I, being but a bachelor,
Have other some. Why, 'tis a happy thing
To be the father unto many sons.
Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.
GLOUCESTER. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.
CLARENCE. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shrift.
KING EDWARD. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.
GLOUCESTER. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.
KING EDWARD. You'd think it strange if I should marry her.
CLARENCE. To who, my lord?
KING EDWARD. Why, Clarence, to myself.
GLOUCESTER. That would be ten days' wonder at the least.
CLARENCE. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.
GLOUCESTER. By so much is the wonder in extremes.
KING EDWARD. Well, jest on, brothers; I can tell you both
Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.
Enter a NOBLEMAN
NOBLEMAN. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken
And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
KING EDWARD. See that he be convey'd unto the Tower.
And go we, brothers, to the man that took him
To question of his apprehension.
Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably.
Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER
GLOUCESTER. Ay, Edward will use women honourably.
Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring
To cross me from the golden time I look for!
And yet, between my soul's desire and me-
The lustful Edward's title buried-
Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies,
To take their rooms ere I can place myself.
A cold premeditation for my purpose!
Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty;
Like one that stands upon a promontory
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye;
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way-
So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
And so I say I'll cut the causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities.
My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard;
What other pleasure can the world afford?

O miserable thought! and more unlikely
Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns.

And am I, then, a man to be belov'd?

Then, since this earth affords no joy to me
But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
And whiles I live t' account this world but hell,
Until my misshap'd trunk that bear this head
Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
And yet I know not how to get the crown,
For many lives stand between me and home;
And I- like one lost in a thorny wood
That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out-
Torment myself to catch the English crown;
And from that torment I will free myself
Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.

I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add colours to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,
And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. Exit
Flourish. Enter LEWIS the French King, his sister BONA, his Admiral call'd BOURBON; PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN MARGARET, and the EARL of OXFORD. LEWIS sits, and riseth up again
LEWIS. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state
And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.
QUEEN MARGARET. No, mighty King of France. Now Margaret
Must strike her sail and learn a while to serve
Where kings command. I was, I must confess,
Great Albion's Queen in former golden days;
But now mischance hath trod my title down
And with dishonour laid me on the ground,
Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,
And to my humble seat conform myself.
LEWIS. Why, say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?
QUEEN MARGARET. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.
LEWIS. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him] Yield not thy neck
To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.
QUEEN MARGARET. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts
And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
Now therefore be it known to noble Lewis
That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
Is, of a king, become a banish'd man,
And forc'd to live in Scotland a forlorn;
While proud ambitious Edward Duke of York
Usurps the regal title and the seat
Of England's true-anointed lawful King.

Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
Our people and our peers are both misled,
Our treasure seiz'd, our soldiers put to flight,
And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.
LEWIS. Renowned Queen, with patience calm the storm,
While we bethink a means to break it off.
QUEEN MARGARET. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.
LEWIS. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.
QUEEN MARGARET. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!
Enter WARWICK
LEWIS. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?
QUEEN MARGARET. Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.
LEWIS. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?
[He descends. She ariseth]
QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;
For this is he that moves both wind and tide.
WARWICK. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
I come, in kindness and unfeigned love,
First to do greetings to thy royal person,
And then to crave a league of amity,
And lastly to confirm that amity
With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister,
To England's King in lawful marriage.
QUEEN MARGARET. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.
WARWICK.
QUEEN MARGARET. King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak
Before you answer Warwick. His demand
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
But from deceit bred by necessity;
For how can tyrants safely govern home
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,
That Henry liveth still; but were he dead,
Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son.
Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;
For though usurpers sway the rule a while
Yet heav'ns are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.
WARWICK. Injurious Margaret!
PRINCE OF WALES. And why not Queen?
WARWICK. Because thy father Henry did usurp;
And thou no more art prince than she is queen.
OXFORD. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
Who by his prowess conquered all France.
From these our Henry lineally descends.
WARWICK. Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse
You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost
All that which Henry the Fifth had gotten?
Methinks these peers of France should smile at that.
But for the rest: you tell a pedigree
Of threescore and two years- a silly time
To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.
OXFORD. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years,
And not betray thy treason with a blush?
WARWICK. Can Oxford that did ever fence the right
Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
For shame! Leave Henry, and call Edward king.
OXFORD. Call him my king by whose injurious doom
My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere,
Was done to death; and more than so, my father,
Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
When nature brought him to the door of death?
No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.
WARWICK. And I the house of York.
LEWIS. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,
Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside
While I use further conference with Warwick.
[They stand aloof]
QUEEN MARGARET. Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not!
LEWIS. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
Is Edward your true king? for I were loath
To link with him that were not lawful chosen.
WARWICK. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.
LEWIS. But is he gracious in the people's eye?
WARWICK. The more that Henry was unfortunate.
LEWIS. Then further: all dissembling set aside,
Tell me for truth the measure of his love
Unto our sister Bona.
WARWICK. Such it seems
As may beseem a monarch like himself.
Myself have often heard him say and swear
That this his love was an eternal plant
Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun,
Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
LEWIS. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
BONA.
[To WARWICK] Yet I confess that often ere this day,
When I have heard your king's desert recounted,
Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.
LEWIS. Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's.
And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
Touching the jointure that your king must make,
Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd.
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness
That Bona shall be wife to the English king.
PRINCE OF WALES. To Edward, but not to the English king.
QUEEN MARGARET. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device
By this alliance to make void my suit.
Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.
LEWIS. And still is friend to him and Margaret.
But if your title to the crown be weak,
As may appear by Edward's good success,
Then 'tis but reason that I be releas'd
From giving aid which late I promised.
Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand
That your estate requires and mine can yield.
WARWICK. Henry now lives in Scotland at his case,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.

QUEEN MARGARET. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick,
Proud setter up and puller down of kings!
I will not hence till with my talk and tears,
Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold
Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;
For both of you are birds of self-same feather.
[POST blowing a horn within]
LEWIS. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
Enter the POST
POST. My lord ambassador, these letters are for you,
Sent from your brother, Marquis Montague.
These from our King unto your Majesty.
And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not.
[They all read their letters]
OXFORD. I like it well that our fair Queen and mistress
Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.
PRINCE OF WALES. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled.
I hope all's for the best.
LEWIS. Warwick, what are thy news? And yours, fair Queen?
QUEEN MARGARET. Mine such as fill my heart with unhop'd joys.
WARWICK. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.
LEWIS. What, has your king married the Lady Grey?
And now, to soothe your forgery and his,
Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
Is this th' alliance that he seeks with France?
Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?
QUEEN MARGARET. I told your Majesty as much before.
This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.
WARWICK. King Lewis, I here protest in sight of heaven,
And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,
That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's-
No more my king, for he dishonours me,
But most himself, if he could see his shame.
Did I forget that by the house of York
My father came untimely to his death?
Did I let pass th' abuse done to my niece?
Did I impale him with the regal crown?
Did I put Henry from his native right?
And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame?

My noble Queen, let former grudges pass,
And henceforth I am thy true servitor.
I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former state.
QUEEN MARGARET. Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;
And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's friend.
WARWICK. So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
I'll undertake to land them on our coast
And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
'Tis not his new-made bride shall succour him;
And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him
For matching more for wanton lust than honour
Or than for strength and safety of our country.
BONA. Dear brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd
But by thy help to this distressed queen?
QUEEN MARGARET.
BONA. My quarrel and this English queen's are one.
WARWICK. And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours.
LEWIS. And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
Therefore, at last, I firmly am resolv'd
You shall have aid.
QUEEN MARGARET. Let me give humble thanks for all at once.
LEWIS. Then, England's messenger, return in post
And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
To revel it with him and his new bride.
Thou seest what's past; go fear thy king withal.
BONA. Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
I'll wear the willow-garland for his sake.
QUEEN MARGARET. Tell him my mourning weeds are laid aside,
And I am ready to put armour on.
WARWICK. Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.
There's thy reward; be gone. Exit POST
LEWIS. But, Warwick,
Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men,
Shall cross the seas and bid false Edward battle:
And, as occasion serves, this noble Queen
And Prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt:
What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?
WARWICK. This shall assure my constant loyalty:
That if our Queen and this young Prince agree,
I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy
To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.
QUEEN MARGARET. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion.
Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous,
Therefore delay not- give thy hand to Warwick;
And with thy hand thy faith irrevocable
That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.
PRINCE OF WALES. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;
And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.
[He gives his hand to WARWICK]
LEWIS. stay we now?
I long till Edward fall by war's mischance
For mocking marriage with a dame of France.
Exeunt all but WARWICK
WARWICK. I came from Edward as ambassador,
But I return his sworn and mortal foe.
Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a stale but me?
Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
I was the chief that rais'd him to the crown,
And I'll be chief to bring him down again;
Not that I pity Henry's misery,
But seek revenge on Edward's mockery. Exit
Enter GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, SOMERSET, and MONTAGUE
GLOUCESTER. Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you
Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey?
Hath not our brother made a worthy choice?
CLARENCE. Alas, you know 'tis far from hence to France!
How could he stay till Warwick made return?
SOMERSET. My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the King.
Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, attended; LADY
GREY, as Queen; PEMBROKE, STAFFORD, HASTINGS,
and others. Four stand on one side, and four on the other
GLOUCESTER. And his well-chosen bride.
CLARENCE. I mind to tell him plainly what I think.
KING EDWARD.
CLARENCE. As well as Lewis of France or the Earl of Warwick,
Which are so weak of courage and in judgment
That they'll take no offence at our abuse.
KING EDWARD. Suppose they take offence without a cause;
They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward,
Your King and Warwick's and must have my will.
GLOUCESTER. And shall have your will, because our King.
Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.
KING EDWARD. Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?
GLOUCESTER. Not I.
No, God forbid that I should wish them sever'd
Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 'twere pity
To sunder them that yoke so well together.
KING EDWARD.
And you too, Somerset and Montague,
Speak freely what you think.
CLARENCE. Then this is mine opinion: that King Lewis
Becomes your enemy for mocking him
About the marriage of the Lady Bona.
GLOUCESTER. And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,
Is now dishonoured by this new marriage.
KING EDWARD. What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeas'd
By such invention as I can devise?
MONTAGUE. Yet to have join'd with France in such alliance
Would more have strength'ned this our commonwealth
'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage.
HASTINGS. Why, knows not Montague that of itself
England is safe, if true within itself?
MONTAGUE. But the safer when 'tis back'd with France.
HASTINGS. 'Tis better using France than trusting France.
Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas
Which He hath giv'n for fence impregnable,
And with their helps only defend ourselves.
In them and in ourselves our safety lies.
CLARENCE. For this one speech Lord Hastings well deserves
To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.
KING EDWARD. Ay, what of that? it was my will and grant;
And for this once my will shall stand for law.
GLOUCESTER. And yet methinks your Grace hath not done well
To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
Unto the brother of your loving bride.
She better would have fitted me or Clarence;
But in your bride you bury brotherhood.
CLARENCE. Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir
Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.
KING EDWARD. Alas, poor Clarence! Is it for a wife
That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
CLARENCE. In choosing for yourself you show'd your judgment,
Which being shallow, you shall give me leave
To play the broker in mine own behalf;
And to that end I shortly mind to leave you.
KING EDWARD. Leave me or tarry, Edward will be King,
And not be tied unto his brother's will.
QUEEN ELIZABETH. My lords, before it pleas'd his Majesty
To raise my state to title of a queen,
Do me but right, and you must all confess
That I was not ignoble of descent:
And meaner than myself have had like fortune.
But as this title honours me and mine,
So your dislikes, to whom I would be pleasing,
Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow.
KING EDWARD. My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns.
What danger or what sorrow can befall thee,
So long as Edward is thy constant friend
And their true sovereign whom they must obey?
Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
Unless they seek for hatred at my hands;
Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside] I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.
Enter a POST
KING EDWARD. Now, messenger, what letters or what news
From France?
MESSENGER. My sovereign liege, no letters, and few words,
But such as I, without your special pardon,
Dare not relate.
KING EDWARD. Go to, we pardon thee; therefore, in brief,
Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them.
What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters?
MESSENGER. At my depart, these were his very words:
'Go tell false Edward, the supposed king,
That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
To revel it with him and his new bride.'
KING EDWARD. IS Lewis so brave? Belike he thinks me Henry.
But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?
MESSENGER. These were her words, utt'red with mild disdain:
'Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
I'll wear the willow-garland for his sake.'
KING EDWARD. I blame not her: she could say little less;
She had the wrong. But what said Henry's queen?
For I have heard that she was there in place.
MESSENGER. 'Tell him' quoth she 'my mourning weeds are done,
And I am ready to put armour on.'
KING EDWARD. Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
But what said Warwick to these injuries?
MESSENGER.
KING EDWARD.
Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarn'd.
They shall have wars and pay for their presumption.
But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?
MESSENGER. Ay, gracious sovereign; they are so link'd in friendship
That young Prince Edward marries Warwick's daughter.
CLARENCE. Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.
Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast,
For I will hence to Warwick's other daughter;
That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage
I may not prove inferior to yourself.
You that love me and Warwick, follow me.
Exit, and SOMERSET follows
GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Not I.
My thoughts aim at a further matter; I
Stay not for the love of Edward but the crown.
KING EDWARD. Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick!
Yet am I arm'd against the worst can happen;
And haste is needful in this desp'rate case.
Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
Go levy men and make prepare for war;
They are already, or quickly will be landed.
Myself in person will straight follow you.
Exeunt PEMBROKE and STAFFORD
But ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance.
Tell me if you love Warwick more than me?
If it be so, then both depart to him:
I rather wish you foes than hollow friends.
But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
That I may never have you in suspect.
MONTAGUE. So God help Montague as he proves true!
HASTINGS. And Hastings as he favours Edward's cause!
KING EDWARD. Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us?
GLOUCESTER. Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you.
KING EDWARD. Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
Now therefore let us hence, and lose no hour
Till we meet Warwick with his foreign pow'r. Exeunt
Enter WARWICK and OXFORD, with French soldiers
WARWICK. Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
The common people by numbers swarm to us.
Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET
But see where Somerset and Clarence comes.
Speak suddenly, my lords- are we all friends?
CLARENCE. Fear not that, my lord.
WARWICK. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
And welcome, Somerset. I hold it cowardice
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother,
Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings.
But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
And now what rests but, in night's coverture,
Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
And but attended by a simple guard,
We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
Our scouts have found the adventure very easy;
That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,
At unawares may beat down Edward's guard
And seize himself- I say not 'slaughter him,'
For I intend but only to surprise him.
You that will follow me to this attempt,
Applaud the name of Henry with your leader.
[They all cry 'Henry!']
Why then, let's on our way in silent sort.
For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! Exeunt
Enter three WATCHMEN, to guard the KING'S tent
FIRST WATCHMAN. Come on, my masters, each man take his stand;
The King by this is set him down to sleep.
SECOND WATCHMAN. What, will he not to bed?
FIRST WATCHMAN. Why, no; for he hath made a solemn vow
Never to lie and take his natural rest
Till Warwick or himself be quite suppress'd.
SECOND WATCHMAN. To-morrow then, belike, shall be the day,
If Warwick be so near as men report.
THIRD WATCHMAN. But say, I pray, what nobleman is that
That with the King here resteth in his tent?
FIRST WATCHMAN. 'Tis the Lord Hastings, the King's chiefest friend.
THIRD WATCHMAN. O, is it So? But why commands the King
That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
While he himself keeps in the cold field?
SECOND WATCHMAN. 'Tis the more honour, because more dangerous.
THIRD WATCHMAN. Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
I like it better than dangerous honour.
If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
'Tis to be doubted he would waken him.
FIRST WATCHMAN.
SECOND WATCHMAN. Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent
But to defend his person from night-foes?
Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET,
and French soldiers, silent all
WARWICK. This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
Courage, my masters! Honour now or never!
But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
FIRST WATCHMAN. Who goes there?
SECOND WATCHMAN. Stay, or thou diest.
 Warwick!' and
set upon the guard, who fly, crying 'Arm! Arm!' WARWICK
and the rest following them
The drum playing and trumpet sounding, re-enter WARWICK
and the rest, bringing the KING out in his gown,
sitting in a chair. GLOUCESTER and HASTINGS fly over the stage
SOMERSET. What are they that fly there?
WARWICK. Richard and Hastings. Let them go; here is the Duke.
KING EDWARD. The Duke! Why, Warwick, when we parted,
Thou call'dst me King?
WARWICK. Ay, but the case is alter'd.
When you disgrac'd me in my embassade,
Then I degraded you from being King,
And come now to create you Duke of York.
Alas, how should you govern any kingdom
That know not how to use ambassadors,
Nor how to be contented with one wife,
Nor how to use your brothers brotherly,
Nor how to study for the people's welfare,
Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?
KING EDWARD. Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too?
Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down.
Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
Edward will always bear himself as King.
Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
WARWICK. Then, for his mind, be Edward England's king;
[Takes off his crown]
But Henry now shall wear the English crown
And be true King indeed; thou but the shadow.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
I'll follow you and tell what answer
Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
Now for a while farewell, good Duke of York.
KING EDWARD. What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
[They lead him out forcibly]
OXFORD. What now remains, my lords, for us to do
But march to London with our soldiers?
WARWICK. Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do;
To free King Henry from imprisonment,
And see him seated in the regal throne. Exeunt
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RIVERS
RIVERS. Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?
QUEEN ELIZABETH. Why, brother Rivers, are you yet to learn
What late misfortune is befall'n King Edward?
RIVERS. What, loss of some pitch'd battle against Warwick?
QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, but the loss of his own royal person.
RIVERS. Then is my sovereign slain?
QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner;
Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard
Or by his foe surpris'd at unawares;
And, as I further have to understand,
Is new committed to the Bishop of York,
Fell Warwick's brother, and by that our foe.
RIVERS. These news, I must confess, are full of grief;
Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may:
Warwick may lose that now hath won the day.
QUEEN ELIZABETH. Till then, fair hope must hinder life's decay.
And I the rather wean me from despair
For love of Edward's offspring in my womb.
This is it that makes me bridle passion
And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross;
Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear
And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs,
Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown
King Edward's fruit, true heir to th' English crown.
RIVERS. But, madam, where is Warwick then become?
QUEEN ELIZABETH. I am inform'd that he comes towards London
To set the crown once more on Henry's head.
Guess thou the rest: King Edward's friends must down.
But to prevent the tyrant's violence-
For trust not him that hath once broken faith-
I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary
To save at least the heir of Edward's right.
There shall I rest secure from force and fraud.
Come, therefore, let us fly while we may fly:
If Warwick take us, we are sure to die. Exeunt
Enter GLOUCESTER, LORD HASTINGS, SIR WILLIAM STANLEY, and others
GLOUCESTER. Now, my Lord Hastings and Sir William Stanley,
Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither
Into this chiefest thicket of the park.
Thus stands the case: you know our King, my brother,
Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands
He hath good usage and great liberty;
And often but attended with weak guard
Comes hunting this way to disport himself.
I have advertis'd him by secret means
That if about this hour he make this way,
Under the colour of his usual game,
He shall here find his friends, with horse and men,
To set him free from his captivity.
Enter KING EDWARD and a HUNTSMAN with him
HUNTSMAN. This way, my lord; for this way lies the game.
KING EDWARD. Nay, this way, man. See where the huntsmen stand.
Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
Stand you thus close to steal the Bishop's deer?
GLOUCESTER. Brother, the time and case requireth haste;
Your horse stands ready at the park corner.
KING EDWARD. But whither shall we then?
HASTINGS. To Lynn, my lord; and shipt from thence to Flanders.
GLOUCESTER. Well guess'd, believe me; for that was my meaning.
KING EDWARD. Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness.
GLOUCESTER. But wherefore stay we? 'Tis no time to talk.
KING EDWARD. Huntsman, what say'st thou? Wilt thou go along?
HUNTSMAN. Better do so than tarry and be hang'd.
GLOUCESTER. Come then, away; let's ha' no more ado.
KING EDWARD. Bishop, farewell. Shield thee from Warwick's frown,
And pray that I may repossess the crown. Exeunt
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, WARWICK, SOMERSET, young HENRY,
EARL OF RICHMOND, OXFORD, MONTAGUE, LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER, and attendants
KING HENRY. Master Lieutenant, now that God and friends
Have shaken Edward from the regal seat
And turn'd my captive state to liberty,
My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys,
At our enlargement what are thy due fees?
LIEUTENANT. Subjects may challenge nothing of their sov'reigns;
But if an humble prayer may prevail,
I then crave pardon of your Majesty.
KING HENRY. For what, Lieutenant? For well using me?
Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness,
For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure;
Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds
Conceive when, after many moody thoughts,
At last by notes of household harmony
They quite forget their loss of liberty.
But, Warwick, after God, thou set'st me free,
And chiefly therefore I thank God and thee;
He was the author, thou the instrument.
Therefore, that I may conquer fortune's spite
By living low where fortune cannot hurt me,
And that the people of this blessed land
May not be punish'd with my thwarting stars,
Warwick, although my head still wear the crown,
I here resign my government to thee,
For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.
WARWICK. Your Grace hath still been fam'd for virtuous,
And now may seem as wise as virtuous
By spying and avoiding fortune's malice,
For few men rightly temper with the stars;
Yet in this one thing let me blame your Grace,
For choosing me when Clarence is in place.
CLARENCE. No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway,
To whom the heav'ns in thy nativity
Adjudg'd an olive branch and laurel crown,
As likely to be blest in peace and war;
And therefore I yield thee my free consent.
WARWICK. And I choose Clarence only for Protector.
KING HENRY. Warwick and Clarence, give me both your hands.
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
That no dissension hinder government.
I make you both Protectors of this land,
While I myself will lead a private life
And in devotion spend my latter days,
To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise.
WARWICK. What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will?
CLARENCE. That he consents, if Warwick yield consent,
For on thy fortune I repose myself.
WARWICK. Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content.
We'll yoke together, like a double shadow
To Henry's body, and supply his place;
I mean, in bearing weight of government,
While he enjoys the honour and his ease.
And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful
Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a traitor,
And all his lands and goods confiscated.
CLARENCE. What else? And that succession be determin'd.
WARWICK. Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.
KING HENRY. But, with the first of all your chief affairs,
Let me entreat- for I command no more-
That Margaret your Queen and my son Edward
Be sent for to return from France with speed;
For till I see them here, by doubtful fear
My joy of liberty is half eclips'd.
CLARENCE.
KING HENRY. My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that,
Of whom you seem to have so tender care?
SOMERSET. My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Richmond.
KING HENRY. Come hither, England's hope.
[Lays his hand on his head]
If secret powers
Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.

Make much of him, my lords; for this is he
Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
Enter a POST
WARWICK. What news, my friend?
POST. That Edward is escaped from your brother
And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.
WARWICK. Unsavoury news! But how made he escape?
POST. He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloucester
And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
In secret ambush on the forest side
And from the Bishop's huntsmen rescu'd him;
For hunting was his daily exercise.
WARWICK. My brother was too careless of his charge.
But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide
A salve for any sore that may betide.
Exeunt all but SOMERSET, RICHMOND, and OXFORD
SOMERSET. My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's;
For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help,
And we shall have more wars befor't be long.
As Henry's late presaging prophecy
Did glad my heart with hope of this young Richmond,
So doth my heart misgive me, in these conflicts,
What may befall him to his harm and ours.
Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worst,
Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany,
Till storms be past of civil enmity.
OXFORD. Ay, for if Edward repossess the crown,
'Tis like that Richmond with the rest shall down.
SOMERSET. It shall be so; he shall to Brittany.
Come therefore, let's about it speedily. Exeunt
Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and soldiers
KING EDWARD. Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
Yet thus far fortune maketh us amends,
And says that once more I shall interchange
My waned state for Henry's regal crown.
Well have we pass'd and now repass'd the seas,
And brought desired help from Burgundy;
What then remains, we being thus arriv'd
From Ravenspurgh haven before the gates of York,
But that we enter, as into our dukedom?
GLOUCESTER. The gates made fast! Brother, I like not this;
For many men that stumble at the threshold
Are well foretold that danger lurks within.
KING EDWARD. Tush, man, abodements must not now affright us.
By fair or foul means we must enter in,
For hither will our friends repair to us.
HASTINGS. My liege, I'll knock once more to summon them.
Enter, on the walls, the MAYOR OF YORK and
his BRETHREN
MAYOR. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming
And shut the gates for safety of ourselves,
For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.
KING EDWARD. But, Master Mayor, if Henry be your King,
Yet Edward at the least is Duke of York.
MAYOR. True, my good lord; I know you for no less.
KING EDWARD. Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom,
As being well content with that alone.
GLOUCESTER. [Aside] But when the fox hath once got in his nose,
He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
HASTINGS. Why, Master Mayor, why stand you in a doubt?
Open the gates; we are King Henry's friends.
MAYOR. Ay, say you so? The gates shall then be open'd.
[He descends]
GLOUCESTER. A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded!
HASTINGS. The good old man would fain that all were well,
So 'twere not long of him; but being ent'red,
I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade
Both him and all his brothers unto reason.
Enter, below, the MAYOR and two ALDERMEN
KING EDWARD. So, Master Mayor. These gates must not be shut
But in the night or in the time of war.
What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;
[Takes his keys]
For Edward will defend the town and thee,
And all those friends that deign to follow me.
March. Enter MONTGOMERY with drum and soldiers
GLOUCESTER. Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,
Our trusty friend, unless I be deceiv'd.
KING EDWARD. Welcome, Sir john! But why come you in arms?
MONTGOMERY. To help King Edward in his time of storm,
As every loyal subject ought to do.
KING EDWARD. Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now forget
Our title to the crown, and only claim
Our dukedom till God please to send the rest.
MONTGOMERY. Then fare you well, for I will hence again.
I came to serve a king and not a duke.
Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.
[The drum begins to march]
KING EDWARD. Nay, stay, Sir John, a while, and we'll debate
By what safe means the crown may be recover'd.
MONTGOMERY. What talk you of debating?
Why shall we fight, if you pretend no title?
GLOUCESTER. Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points?
KING EDWARD. When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim;
Till then 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning.
HASTINGS. Away with scrupulous wit! Now arms must rule.
GLOUCESTER. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.
KING EDWARD. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right,
And Henry but usurps the diadem.
MONTGOMERY. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself;
And now will I be Edward's champion.
HASTINGS. Sound trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd.
Come, fellow soldier, make thou proclamation.
[Gives him a paper. Flourish]
SOLDIER. [Reads] 'Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God,
King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, &c.'
MONTGOMERY. And whoso'er gainsays King Edward's right,
By this I challenge him to single fight.
[Throws down gauntlet]
ALL. Long live Edward the Fourth!
KING EDWARD. Thanks, brave Montgomery, and thanks unto you all;
If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
Now for this night let's harbour here in York;
And when the morning sun shall raise his car
Above the border of this horizon,
We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
Ah, froward Clarence, how evil it beseems the
To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.
Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day,
And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. Exeunt
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, MONTAGUE, CLARENCE, OXFORD, and EXETER
WARWICK. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas
And with his troops doth march amain to London;
And many giddy people flock to him.
KING HENRY. Let's levy men and beat him back again.
CLARENCE. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
WARWICK. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
Those will I muster up, and thou, son Clarence,
Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent,
The knights and gentlemen to come with thee.
Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st.
And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov'd,
In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
Like to his island girt in with the ocean
Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
Shall rest in London till we come to him.
Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.
Farewell, my sovereign.
KING HENRY. Farewell, my Hector and my Troy's true hope.
CLARENCE. In sign of truth, I kiss your Highness' hand.
KING HENRY. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate!
MONTAGUE. Comfort, my lord; and so I take my leave.
OXFORD. [Kissing the KING'S band] And thus I seal my truth and bid
adieu.
KING HENRY. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague,
And all at once, once more a happy farewell.
WARWICK. Farewell, sweet lords; let's meet at Coventry.
Exeunt all but the KING and EXETER
KING HENRY. Here at the palace will I rest a while.
Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship?
Methinks the power that Edward hath in field
Should not be able to encounter mine.
EXETER. The doubt is that he will seduce the rest.
KING HENRY. That's not my fear; my meed hath got me fame:
I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
My mercy dried their water-flowing tears;
I have not been desirous of their wealth,
Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd.
Then why should they love Edward more than me?
No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace;
And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
The lamb will never cease to follow him.
[Shout within 'A Lancaster! A Lancaster!']
EXETER. Hark, hark, my lord! What shouts are these?
Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers
KING EDWARD. Seize on the shame-fac'd Henry, bear him hence;
And once again proclaim us King of England.

Hence with him to the Tower: let him not speak.
Exeunt some with KING HENRY
And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course,
Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay,
Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.
GLOUCESTER. Away betimes, before his forces join,
And take the great-grown traitor unawares.
Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. Exeunt
Enter WARWICK, the MAYOR OF COVENTRY, two MESSENGERS, and others upon the walls
WARWICK. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?
How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?
FIRST MESSENGER. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.
WARWICK. How far off is our brother Montague?
Where is the post that came from Montague?
SECOND MESSENGER. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.
Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE
WARWICK. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son?
And by thy guess how nigh is Clarence now?
SOMERVILLE.
[Drum heard]
WARWICK. Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum.
SOMERVILLE. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies.
The drum your Honour hears marcheth from Warwick.
WARWICK. Who should that be? Belike unlook'd for friends.
SOMERVILLE. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
March. Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER,
and soldiers
KING EDWARD. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
GLOUCESTER. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall.
WARWICK. O unbid spite! Is sportful Edward come?
Where slept our scouts or how are they seduc'd
That we could hear no news of his repair?
KING EDWARD. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates,
Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee,
Call Edward King, and at his hands beg mercy?
And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
WARWICK. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down,
Call Warwick patron, and be penitent?
And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.
GLOUCESTER. I thought, at least, he would have said the King;
Or did he make the jest against his will?
WARWICK. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
GLOUCESTER. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give.
I'll do thee service for so good a gift.
WARWICK. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.
KING EDWARD. Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.
WARWICK. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight;
And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
And Henry is my King, Warwick his subject.
KING EDWARD. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner.
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
What is the body when the head is off?
GLOUCESTER. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace,
And ten to one you'll meet him in the Tower.
KING EDWARD. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
GLOUCESTER. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.