Ay, this is he that took king Henry's chair; Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? Till our king Henry had shook hands with death. Now in his life, against your holy oath? O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable!— Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head, And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake. Q. Mar. 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! How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex, To triumph like an Amazonian trull, Upon their woes, whom fortune captivates? But that thy face is, visor-like, unchanging, Made impudent with use of evil deeds, I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush: 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? That beggars, mounted, run their horse to death. 'Tis beauty, that doth oft make women proud; As the Antipodes are unto us, Or as the south to the septentrion. O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! 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: Would'st 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 French woman. North. 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,- And I with tears do wash the blood away. [He gives back the handkerchief And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right, T'here, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!— Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world; North. 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. Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord Northumber- Think but upon the wrong he did us all, Clif. Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. [Stabbing him. Q. Mar. 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. Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set it on York gates; So York may overlook the town of York. [Exeunt. ACT II SCENE I-A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. Drums. Enter EDWARD, and RICHARD, with their Forces, marching. * Edw. 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 taken, 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? Rich. 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. * Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs; So fled his enemies my warlike father; Edw. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? Rich. 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, * Edw. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. I think, it cites us, brother, to the field; Rich. Nay, bear three daughters;-by your leave *You love the breeder better than the male. Enter a Messenger. 'But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretel • Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? Mess. Ah, one that was a woful looker on, When as the noble duke of York was slain, * Your princely father, and my loving lord. Edw. O, speak no more! for I have heard too much • Mess. Environed he was with many foes; * And stood against them as the hope of Troy* Against the Greeks, that would have enter'd Troy. * But Hercules himself must yield to odds; |