The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason

Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. K. E. The harder match'd, the greater victory; My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest. Enter Somerset, with Drum and Colours. Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the City. Glo. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset, Have sold their lives unto the house of York;

And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter Clarence, with Drum and Colours.

War. Andlo, where George of Clarencesweeps Of force enough to bid his brother battle; [along, With whom an upright zeal to right prevails, More than the nature of a brother's love:

Come, Clarence, come; thouwilt, if Warwickcalls. Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? [Taking the Red Rose out of his Cap.

Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:
I will not ruinate my father's house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou;
Warwick,

That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, 1 unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war
Against his brother, and his lawful king?
Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath:
To keep that oath, were more impiety,
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrificed his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made,
That to deserve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad,)
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me,
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.

K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times
more belov'd,

Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.
G. Welcome, good Clarence; thisisbrother-like.
War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust!
K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the

town, and fight?

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.
K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and
leads the way:-
Lords, to the field; saint George, and victory.
[March. Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A FIELD OF BATTLE NEAR BARNET. Alarums und Excursions. Enter King Edward, bringing in Warwick wounded.

K. E. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die ourfear; For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all. Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee, That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

[Exit.

1 Dull in feeling. 2 Egregious.

3 Bugbear. Terrified.

War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me friend, or foe, And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick? Why ask I that? my mangled body shows, My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart That I must yield my body to the earth, (shows, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; (tree, Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful [black veil, These eyes that now are dimm'd with death's Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun, To search the secret treasons of the world: The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood, Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres; For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave? And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his brow?

wind.

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood! My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, Even now forsake me: and, of all my lands, Is nothing left me, but my body's length ! Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and And, live we how wecan, yet die we must. [dust!

Enter Oxford and Somerset.

S. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are, We might recover all our loss again! [power; The queen from France hath brought a puissant Even now we heard the news: Ah, couldst thou

fly!

W. Why, then I would not fly. -Ah, Montague, If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, And with thy lips keep in my soul a while! Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst, Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood, That glues my lips, and will not let me speak. Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead. [last: Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick, And said-Commend me to my valiant brother. And more he would have said; and more he spoke, Which sounded like a cannon in a vault, That might not be distinguish'd; but at last, I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,O, farewell, Warwick!

War.

Sweet rest to his soul!Fly, lords, and save yourselves: for Warwick bids You all farewell, to meet again in heaven. [Dies. 0. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power. [Exeunt, bearing off Warwick's body. SCENE III. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD. Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph; with Clarence, Gloster, and the rest. K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an up

ward course,

And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
But in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud,

And blow it to the source from whence it came:
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up;
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

G. The queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
If she have time to breathe, be well assurd,
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

Lest, in our need, he might infect another
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as heaven forbid!
Let him depart, before we need his help.

0. Women and children of so high a courage! And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.

K. E. We are advertis'd by our loving friends,
That they do hold their course towards Tewks-
We, having now the best at Barnet field, [bury;
Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
And, as we march, our strength will be aug-
In every country as we go along.- [mented If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.
Strike up the drum; cry-Courage! and away.
[Exeunt.

O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee; Long mayst thou live,
To bear his image, and renew his glories!

SCENE IV. - PLAINS NEAR TEWKSBURY.
March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward,
Somerset, Oxford, and Soldiers.

Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and
wail their loss,

But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown over-board,
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still: Is't meet that he
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea, [much;
And give more strength to that which hath too
Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say, Warwick was our anchor; What of that?
And Montague our top-mast; What of him?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; What of
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? [these?
And Somerset another goodly mast; [lings?
The friends of France our shrouds and tack-
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep;
But keep our course, though the rough wind
say-no,
[wreck.

From shelves and rocks that threaten us with
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
And what is Edward, but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence, but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim, alas, 'tis but a while;
Tread on the sand, why there you quickly sink:
Bestride the rock, the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish, that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's nohop'd-formercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and
rocks.

Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

Pr. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity,
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this as doubting any here:
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,

He should have leave to go away betimes;

S. And he, that will not fight for such a hope,
Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,

Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset:-sweet
Oxford, thanks.
[else.
P. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing
Enter a Messenger.

M. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand,
Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less: it is his policy,
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness.
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your
[budge.

forwardness.

Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not
March. Enter, at a distance, King Edward,
Clarence, Gloster, and Forces.

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the
thorny wood,
[strength,
Which, by the heaven's assistance, and your
Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For, well I wot,1 ye blaze to burn them out:
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what

I should say,

My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this:--Henry, your sove-
Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd, [reign,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies.

SCENE V.- ANOTHER PART OF THE SAME.

Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Re-
treat. Then enter King Edward, Clarence,
Gloster, and Forces; with Queen Margaret,
Oxford, and Somerset, Prisoners.

K.E. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head. [speak.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them
O. For mypart, I'll not trouble thee with words.
S. Nor I; but stoop with patience to myfortune.

[Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded.
Q. M. So part we sadly in this troublous world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem. [Edward,
K. E. Is proclamation made,-that, who finds
Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
G. Itis: and, lo, where youthful Edward comes.

1 Know.

2 In Picardy.

Enter Soldiers, with Prince Edward. K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak:

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick? Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?

P. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York! Suppose that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the self same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answerto.

Q. M. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! G. That you might still haveworn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let Æsop fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place. G. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word. [men. Q. M. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to Glo. For heaven's sake, take away this captive scold. [rather. Pr. Nay, take away this scolding crook-back K. E. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your

tongue.

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. Pr. I know my duty; you are all undutiful; Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George, And thou mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all, I am your better, traitors as ye are ;And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. K. E. Take that, the likeness of this railer here. [Stabs him. Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that to end thy [Glo. stabs him. agony. Clar. And there's for twitting me with per[Clar, stabs him.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it?

Q. M. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself; 'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. [butcher, What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?

Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back. K. E. Away, I say; I charge ye bear her hence. Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to

this prince! [Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone? Clar. To London all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

K.E. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head. Now marchwe hence: discharge the common sort With pay and thanks, and let's away to London, And see our gentle queen how well she fares; By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-LONDON. A ROOMIN THE TOWER. King Henry is discovered sitting with a Book in his Hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter Gloster.

Glo. Good day, my lord? What, at your book so hard?

jury.

Q. Mar. O, kill me too! Glo. Marry, and shall.

[Offers to kill her.

K. E. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done

too much.

K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: Mylord, I should say rather;

G. Why should she live, to fill the world with words?

'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better; Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike, And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord. G. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant.

K. Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf:

[Exit.

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!
Q. M. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother,
boy!

Canst thou not speak?-O traitors! murderers!-
They, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equal it.
He was a man: this, in respect, a child;
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
What's worse than murderer, that I may name it?
No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak:-
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr'd up re-

So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece, And next his throat unto the butcher's knife. What scene of death hath Roscius now to act? Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

K. H. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush, With trembling wings misdoubteth1 every bush: And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye, [kill'd. Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and

G. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete, That taught his son the office of a fowl? And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd. K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus; Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy, Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea, Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!

1 Suspects.

2 Childish

My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
Than can my ears that tragick history.-
But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?
Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner?
K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
If murdering innocents be executing,
Why, then thou art an executioner.

Glo. Thy son I kill'd, for his presumption. K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first thou didst presume,

Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine. And thus I prophesy, that many a thousand, Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear; And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye, Men fortheir sons', wives for theirhusbands' fate, And orphans for their parents' timeless death, Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees;

The raven rook'd1 her on the chimney's top, And chattering pies2 in dismal discords sung. Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope; To wit, an indigest deformed lump,

Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. [born, Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast To signify, thou cam'st to bite the world: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st

Glo. I'll hear no more;-Die, prophet, in thy speech; [Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. H. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.

O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies.
Glo. What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
Sink in the ground? I thought it would have
mounted.
[death!
See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's
O, may such purple tears be always shed
From those that wish the downfal of our house!
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say-I sent thee thither.
[Stabs him again.

I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.-
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of;
As I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Heaven bless us, he is born with teeth!
And so I was; which plainly signified-
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.
Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so,
Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother:
And this word-love, which greybeards call
Be resident in men like one another, [divine,
And not in me; I am myself alone.-
Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light;
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:
For I will buz abroad such prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
1 Lodged.

2 Magpies.

3 Arrange.

And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone:
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
Counting myself but bad, till I be best.-
I'll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. [Exit.

SCENE VII.-A ROOM IN THE PALACE. King Edwardis discovered sittingonhis Throne; Queen Elizabeth with the infant Prince, Clarence, Gloster, Hastings, and others near him. K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal

throne,

Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn,
Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their pride?
Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
For hardy and undoubted champions:
Two Cliffords, as the father and the son,
And two Northumberlands; two braver men
Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's
sound:
[Montague,
With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and
That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat,
And made our footstool of security.-

Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy:-
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles, and myself,
Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night;
Went all a-foot in summer's scalding heat,
That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace;
And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.

Glo. [Aside.] I'll blast his harvest, if your
head were laid;

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

Work thou the way, and thou shalt execute. K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my lovely queen;

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

Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence
thou sprang'st,

Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit?[Aside.] To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master;

And cried--all hail! whenas he meant--all harm.
K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul delights,
Having my country's peace, and brothers' loves.
Clar. What will your grace have done with
Margaret?

Reignier, her father, to the king of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
And hither have they sent it for her ransome:

K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence

to France.

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

For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. [Exeunt.

Act First.

SIR JAMES BLOUNT.

SIR WALTER HERBERT,

SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower.

CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a Priest.

Another Priest.

Lord Mayor of London.

Sheriff of Wiltshire.

ELIZABETH, Queen of King Edward IV.
MARGARET, Widow of King Henry VI.
DUCHESS OF YORK, Mother to King Edward
IV., Clarence, and Gloster.
LADY ANNE, Widow of Edward, Prince of
Wales, Son to King Henry VI.; afterwards
married to the Duke of Gloster.

A young Daughter of Clarence.

Lords, and other Attendants; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c.

SCENE.- England.

SCENE I.-LONDON. A STREET.

Enter Gloster.

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds, that low'r'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. [wreaths; Now are our brows bound with victorious Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.1 Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;

And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, -
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's ma-
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; [jesty,
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them;-
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity;
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days, -
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.-
Plots have I laid, inductions1 dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence, and the king,
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And, if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up;
About a prophecy, which says-that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence

comes.

Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury.
Brother, good day: What means this armed
That waits upon your grace?
[guard
Clar.
His majesty,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

And that so lamely and unfashionable,

Glo. Upon what cause?

1 Dances.

1 Preparations for mischief.

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