Page images

The Third PART of


ACT 1.


Alarum. Enter Duke of York, Edward, Richard, Norfolk, Mountague, Warwick, and Soldiers.


Wonder how the King efcap'd our Hands? York. While we purfu'd the Horsemen of the North,

He flily ftole away, and left his Men: Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, Whose warlike Ears could never brook ReChear'd up the drooping Army, and himself, (treat, Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all a-breaft, Charg'd our main Battel's Front; and breaking in, Were by the Swords of common Soldiers flain.

Edw. Lord Stafford's Father, Duke of Buckingham, Is either flain or wounded dangerous.

I cleft his Beaver with a down-ight blow:
That this is true, Father, behold his Blood.

Mount. And, Brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's Blood, Whom I encountred as the Battels join'd.

Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did. VOL. IV.

B 2


Tork. Richard hath beft deferv'd of all my Sons:
But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerfet?
Norf. Such hope have all the Line of John of Gaunt.
Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's Head.
War. And fo do I, victorious Prince of Tork.
Before I fee thee feated in the Throne,
Which now the Houfe of Lancaster ufurps,
I vow by Heav'n, thefe Eyes fhall never clofe.
This is the Palace of the fearful King,
And this the Regal Seat; poffefs it York,
For this is thine, and not King Henry's Heirs.

York. Affift me then, fweet Warwick, and I will;
For hither we have broken in by force.

Norf. We'll all affift you; he that flies fhall die.
York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk; stay by me my Lords,
And Soldiers ftay and lodge by me this Night. [They go up.
War. And when the King comes, offer him no violence,
Unless he feek to thrust you out by force.

Tork. The Queen this day here holds her Parliament,
But little thinks we fhall be of her Counfel;
By Words or Blows here let us win our right.

Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's ftay within this House.
War. The bloody Parliament fhall this be call'd,
Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be King,
Ard bashful Henry depos'd, whofe Cowardife
Hath made us by-words to our Enemies.

Tork. Then leave me not, my Lords, be refolute,
I mean to take poffeffion of my Right.

War. Neither the King, nor he that loves him best,
The proudest He that holds up Lancaster.
Dares ftir a Wing, if Warwick thake his Bells.
I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dare:
Refolve thee Richard, claim the English Crown.
Enter King Henry, Clifford, Northumberland, Weftmor-
land, Exeter, and others.

K. Henry. My Lords, look where the sturdy Rebel fits, Even in the Chair of State; belike he means,

Back'd by the Power of Warwick, that falfe Peer,
To afpire unto the Crown, and Reign as King.
Earl of Northumberland, he flew thy Father,


[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]

And thine, Lord Clifford, and you have both vow'd revenge On him, his Sons, his Favourites, and his Friends.

North. If I be not, Heav'ns be reveng'd on me.

Clif. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in Steel. Weft. What, fhall we fuffer this? Let's pluck him down. My Heart for anger burns, I cannot brook it.

K. Henry. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmorland.
Clif. Patience is for Poltroons, and fuch is he:
He durft not fit there had your Father liv'd.
My gracious Lord, here in the Parliament
Let us affail the Family of York

North. Well haft thou fpoken, Coufin be it fo.
K. Henry. Ah, know you not the City favours them,
And they have Troops of Soldiers at their beck?

Weft. But when the Duke is flain, they'll quickly fly.
K. Henry. Far be the thought of this from Henry's Heart,
To make a Shambles of the Parliament Houfe.
Coufin of Exeter, Frowns, Words, and Threats,
Shall be the War that Henry means to use.

Thou factious Duke of York, defcend my Throne,
And kneel for Grace and Mercy at my Feet,
I am thy Soveraign.

York. Henry I am thine.

Exe. For fhame come down, he made thee Duke of York.

York. It was my Inheritance, as the Earldom was.
Exe. Thy Father was a Traitor to the Crown.
War. Exeter thou art a Traitor to the Crown,
In following this ufurping Henry.

Clif. Whom should he follow, but his natural King?
War. True, Clifford, and that's Richard Duke of York.
K. Henry. And fhall I ftand, and thou fit in my Throne?
York. It must and shall be fo, content thy felf.
War. Be Duke of Lancaster, let him be King.
Weft. He is both King and Duke of Lancaster,
And that the Lord of Westmorland fhall maintain.

War. And Warwick fhall difprove it. You forget, That we are thofe which chas'd you from the Field, And flew your Fathers, and with Colours spread March'd threw the City to the Palace Gates.

B 3


[ocr errors][ocr errors]

North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief.
And by his Soul, thou and thy Houfe fhall rue it.
Weft. Plantagenet, of thee and these thy Sons,
Thy Kinfmen, and thy Friends, I'll have more lives
Then drops of Blood were in my Father's Veins.

Clif. Urge it no more, left that inftead of words
I fend thee, Warwick, fuch a Meffenger,
As fhall revenge his Death, before I ftir.

War. Poor Clifford! how I fcorn his worthless Threats.
York, Will you, we fhew our Title to the Crown?
If not, our Swords fhall plead it in the Field.

K. Henry. What Title haft thou, Traitor, to the Crown?
Thy Father was, as thou art, Duke of York,
Thy Grandfather Roger Mortimer, Earl of March.
I am the Son of Henry the Fifth,

Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop,
And feiz'd upon their Towns and Provinces.

War. Talk not of France, fith thou haft loft it all.
K. Henry. The Lord Protector loft it, and not I;
When I was Crown'd I was but nine Months old.
Rich. You are old enough now,

And yet methinks you lofe:

Father, tear the Crown from the Ufurper's Head.
Edw. Sweet Father do fo, fet it on your Head.
Mount. Good Brother,

As thou lov't and honoureft Arms,

Let's fight it out, and not ftand cavelling thus.

Rich. Sound Drums and Trumpet, and the King will


Turk. Sons, Peace.

K. Henry. Peace thou, and give King Henry leave to speak.
War. Plantagenet shall speak firft: Here him Lords,
And be you filent and attentive too,

For he that interrupts him, fhall not live.

K. Henry. Think'ft thou that I will leave my Kingly Throne,
Wherein my Grandfire and my Father fat?
No; firft fhall War unpeople this my Realm;

Ay, and their Colours often born in France,

And now in England, to our Hearts great Sorrow,

Shall be my Winding-fheet: Why faint you, Lords?
My Title's good, and better far than his.


[ocr errors]

War. But prove it, Henry, and thou fhalt be King.
K. Henry. Henry the Fourth by Conqueft got the Crown.
York. 'Twas by Rebellion against his King.

K. Henry. I know not what to fay, my Title's weak:
Tell me, may not a King adopt an Heir?

York. What then?

K. Henry. And if he may, then am I lawful King:
For Richard, in the view of many Lords,
Refign'd the Crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whose Heir my Father was, and I am his.

Tork. He rofe against him, being his Soveraign, And made him to refign his Crown perforce.

War. Suppofe, my Lords, he did it unconstrain'd, Think you 'cwere prejudicial to his Crown?

Exe. No; for he could not fo refign his Crown, But that the next Heir fhould fucceed and reign.

K. Henry. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter ?
Exe. His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
York. Why whifper you, my Lords, and answer not?
Exe. My Confcience tells me, he is lawful King.
K. Henry. All will revolt from me, and turn to him,
North. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'ft,
Think not, that Henry fhall be depos'd.

War. Depos'd he fall be, in despite of all.
North. Thou art deceiv'd:

'Tis not thy Southern Power

Of Effex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
Which makes thee thus prefumptuous and proud,
Can fet the Duke up in defpight of me.

Clif. King Henry, be thy Title right or wrong,
Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence;
May that ground gape, and fwallow me alive,
Where I fhall kneel to him that flew my Father.

K. Henry. Oh Clifford, how thy words revive my Heart.
York. Henry of Lancaster, refign thy Crown:
What mutter you, or what confpire you, Lords?

War. Do right unto this Princely Duke of York,
Or I will fill the Houfe with armed Men,
And o'er the Chair of State, where now he fits,
Write up his Title with ufarping Blood.

[He stamps with his foot, and the Soldiers shew themselves.

B 4

K Henry.

« PreviousContinue »