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Soldiers, and other Attendants on King Henry and King Edward, Messengers, Watchmen, etc. SCENE.-During part of the Third Act, in France; during the rest of the Play,


in England.

SCENE I. London. The Parliament House.

Drums. Some Soldiers of YORK'S party break in. Then enter the Duke of YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Others, with white roses in their hats.

War. 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,

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Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd.
Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what
I did.
Throwing down the Duke of
SOMERSET's head.
York. Richard hath best deserv'd of all my sons.
But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset ?
Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of

Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.


War. 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.

Norf. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk. Stay by me, my lords;


And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. War. And when the king comes, offer him no violence,

Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.
The Soldiers retire.

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.
Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this


War. 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.

War. 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.
WARWICK leads YORK to the throne, who
seats himself.
Flourish. Enter King HENRY, CLIFFORD,
TER, and Others, with red roses in their hats.

K. Hen. 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. North. If I be not, heavens be reveng'd on me! Clif. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.

West. What shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down:

My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. 60 K. Hen. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.

Clif. Patience is for poltroons, such as he :

He durst not sit there had your father liv'd.
My gracious lord, here in the parliament
Let us assail the family of York.

North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin : be it so. K. Hen. Ah! know you not the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? Exe. But when the duke is slain they'll quickly fly.

K. Hen. 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.


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Clif. Whom should he follow but his natural king?

War. True, Clifford; and that's Richard, Duke of York.

K. Hen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?

York. It must and shall be so : content thyself. War. Be Duke of Lancaster: let him be king. West. He is both king and Duke of Lancaster: And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.

War. 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.

North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.

West. 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.

Clif. Urge it no more; lest that instead of words I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir. War. Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats.


York. Will you we show our title to the crown?
If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
K. Hen. What title hast thou, traitor, to the

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.

War. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.


K. Hen. The lord protector lost it, and not I: When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. Rich. You are old enough now, and yet, me

thinks, you lose.

Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Edw. Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. Mont. To YORK. Good brother, as thou lov'st and honour'st arms,

Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.

Rich. Sound drums and trumpets, and the And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv'st. king will fly.

York. Sons, peace!

K. Hen. Peace thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.


War. Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords;

And be you silent and attentive too,

For he that interrupts him shall not live.

K. Hlen. 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.


War. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. K. Hen. Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.

York. 'Twas by rebellion against his king. K. Hen. Aside. I know not what to say my title's weak.

Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?

York. What then?

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York. He rose against him, being his sovereign, And made him to resign his crown perforce. War. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd,

Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown?

Exc. No; for he could not so resign his crown But that the next heir should succeed and reign. K. Hen, Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? Exe. His is the right, and therefore pardon me. York. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?

Exe. My conscience tells me he is lawful king. K. Hen. All will revolt from me, and turn to him.


North. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, Think not that Henry shall be so depos'd.

War. Depos'd he shall be in despite of all. North. 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.


Clif. 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! K. Hen. O Clifford how thy words revive my heart.

York. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?

War. Do right unto this princely Duke of York, Or I will fill the house with armed men, And o'er the chair of state, where now he sits, Write up his title with usurping blood.

Ile stumps with his foot, and the Soldiers

show themselves. K. Hen. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word:


Let me for this my life-time reign as king. York. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,

K. Hen. I am content: Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.

Clif. What wrong is this unto the prince your son!

War. What good is this to England and himself!

West. Base, fearful, and despairing Henry! Clif. How hast thou injur'd both thyself and us! West. I cannot stay to hear these articles. 189 North. Nor I.

Clif. Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these

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my son,

Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
But be it as it may; 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 per-
Coming from the throne.
War. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet,
embrace him.


K. Hen. And long live thou and these thy forward sons!

York. Now York and Lancaster are reconcil'd. Exe. Accurs'd be he that seeks to make them foes! Sennet. The Lords come forward. York. Farewell, my gracious lord: I'll to my castle.

War. And I'll keep London with my soldiers. Norf. And I to Norfolk with my followers. Mont. And I unto the sea from whence I came. Exeunt YORK and his Sons, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, Soldiers, and Attendants.

K. Hen. And I, with grief and sorrow, to the

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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 would'st have left thy dearest heart-blood

Rather than have made that savage duke thine

And disinherited thine only son.

Prince. Father, you cannot disinherit me.
If you be king, why should not I succeed?

K. Hen. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me,
sweet son:

The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforc'd me.
Q. Mar. 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 given 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 Faulconbridge 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 preferr'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.
K. Hen. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me

Q. Mar. Thou hast spoke too much already:
get thee gone.

K. Hen. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay
with me?

Q. Mar. Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies.
Prince. When I return with victory from the



I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her.
Q. Mar. Come, son, away; we may not linger
thus. Excunt Queen MARGARET and the
K. Hen. Poor queen! how love to me and to
Prince of WALES.

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.
Exe. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all.



SCENE 11.-A Room in Sandal Castle, near

Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me

Edw. No, I can better play the orator.
Mont. But I have reasons strong and forcible.
Enter YORK.

York. Why, how now, sons and brother! at
a strife?

What is your quarrel? how began it first?
Edw. No quarrel, but a slight contention.
York. About what?

Rich. 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.
Rich. Your right depends not on his life or


Edw. 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.

Edw. But for a kingdom any oath may be broken :

I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.
Rich. No; God forbid your grace should be

York. I shall be, if I claim by open war.
Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear
me speak.

York. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.
Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate
That hath authority over him that swears:
Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
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,
Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
Until the white rose that I wear be dyed


Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
York. Richard, enough: I will be king, or die.
And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
And tell him privily of our intent.
Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk,
You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
Witty, courtiers, liberal, full of spirit.
But that I seek occasion how to rise,
While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more.
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

Mess. The queen with all the northern earls

and lords

Intend here to besiege you in your castle.
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 powerful policy strengthen themselves, And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. Mont. 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? Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. A woman's general; what should we fear? A march afar off Edw. I hear their drums: let's set our men in order,

And issue forth and bid them battle straight. 70 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?
Alarum. Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Field of Battle between Sandal
Castle and Wakefield.

Alarums. Excursions. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor.

Rut. Ah! whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?

Ah! tutor, look, where bloody Clifford comes.

Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers.

Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.

As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Clif. Soldiers, away with him!

Tut. Ah! Clifford, murder not this innocent child,

Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Clif. How now! is he dead already? or is it fear That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. Rut. 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. Ah! gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threatening look. Sweet Clifford ! hear me speak before I die : I am too mean a subject for thy wrath; Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood


Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words

should enter.

Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again: He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Clif. 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.


Lifting his hand. Rut. O let me pray before I take my death. To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. Rut. I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?

Clif. Thy father hath.
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.
Clif. No cause!

Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.


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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 encounter'd 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, 20
And spend her strength with over-matching
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 number'd that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.

BERLAND, the young PRINCE, and Soldiers. Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:

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