For I have murder'd where I should not kill. [Exit with the body. K. Hen. 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. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, And Warwick rages like a chafed bull; Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord, towards Berwick post amain: Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds, K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter; [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-The same. A loud Alarum. Enter Clifford, wounded. Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies, Which, while it lasted, gave king Henry light. O, Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow, More than my body's parting with my soul: My love, and fear, glew'd many friends to thee; And, now, I fall, thy tough commixtures melt. Impairing Henry, strength'ning mis-proud 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 Phœbus! hadst thou never given consent That Phaeton 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. Edw. Now breathe we, lords; good fortune bids us pause, And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.- And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. [Clifford groans, and dies. Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. Edw. See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, If friend, or foe, let him be gently us'd. Rich. 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 murdering knife unto the root From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, I mean, our princely father, duke of York. War. 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. Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, That nothing sung but death to us and ours: Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. [Attendants bring the Body forward. War. 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. Rich. O, 'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth ; "Tis but his policy to counterfeit, Because he would avoid such bitter taunts wont. Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard, When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath :- This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head, And then to Britany I'll cross the sea, To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be: For on 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 Gloster ;And George, of Clarence ;-Warwick, as ourself, SCENE I-A Chace in the north of England. Enter two Keepers, with Crossbows in their Hands. 1 Keeper. UNDER this thick-grown brake we'll shroud our- For through this laund anon the deer will come; 2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. 1 Keep. 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 befel me on a day, In this self-place where now we mean to stand. 2 Keep. Here com's a man, let's stay till he be past. Enter King Henry, disguised, with a Prayer-book. K. Hen. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, 1 Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. K. Hen. Let me embrace these sour adversities; For wise men say, it is the wisest course. 2 Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. With promise of his sister, and what else, To strengthen and support king Edward's place. 2 Keep. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings and queens ? K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was born to: A man at least, for less I should not be; 2 Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. 2 Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head. Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd, content; A crown it is, that seldom king's enjoy. 2 Keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, Your crown content, and you, must be contented To go along with us: for, as we think, You are the king, king Edward hath depos'd; And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance, Will apprehend you as his enemy. K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an oath? 2 Keep. No, never such an oath, nor will not now. K. Hen. Where did you dwell, when I was king of England? 2 Keep. Here in this country, where we now remain. K. Hen. I was anointed king at nine months old; My father and and my grandfather were kings; And you were sworn true subjects unto me: And, tell me then, have you not broke your oaths? 1 Keep. No; For we were subjects, but while you were king. K. Hen. 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. 1 Keep. We are true subjects to the king, king Ed SCENE II.-London. A Room in the Palace. En K. Edw. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause, K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit; L. Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay; Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all An if what pleases him, shall pleasure you. Cla. I fear her not, unless she chance to fall. [Aside. me. Cla. I think, he means to beg a child of her. [Aside. [Aside. L. Grey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. K. Edw. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit. Gle. Ay, good leave have you; for you will have Till youth take leave, and leave you to the crutch. L. Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. K. Edw. And would you not do much, to do them good. L. Grey. To do them good, I would sustain some harm. K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands, to do them L. Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty. K. Edw. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants. K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love L. Grey. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my mind. K. Edw. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. L.Grey. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; K. Edw. Therein thou wrong'st thy children migh tily. L. Grey. Herein your highness wrongs both them But, mighty lord, this merry inclination K. Edw. Ay; if thou wilt say Ay, to my request: K. Edw. [Aside.] Her looks do argue her replete Her words do shew her wit incomparable; And she shall be my love, or else my queen.- I am a subject fit to jest withal, K. Edw. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee, L. Grey. And that is more than I will yield unto : K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give I know, I am too mean to be your queen; L. Grey. What you command, that rests in me to do. Glo. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the Cla. As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt. L. Grey. Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my K. Edw. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. K. Edw. Why then, thy husband's lands I freely L. Grey. I take my leave with many thousand thanks. Glo. The match is made; she seals it with a curt'sy. K. Edw. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. 4. Grey. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. And yet too good to be your concubine. K. Edw. You cavil, widow; I did mean, my queen: L. Grey. "Twill grieve your grace, my sons should call you-father. E. Edw. No more, than when thy daughters call Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; [Aside. Cla. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift. [Aside. K. Edw. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have Glo. The widow likes it not, for she looks sad. Cla. To whom, my lord? Cla. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. Glo. By so much is the wonder in extremes. Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both, And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart; Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. Enter a Nobleman. Nob. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. K. Edw. 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 honourable. [Exeunt King Edward, Lady Grey, Clarence, and Lord. Glo. 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, My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, O, monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! That rents the thorns, and is rent with the thorns; And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; K. Lew. Fair queen of England, worthy Margaret, Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state, [Rising. And birth, that thou shouldst stand, while Lewis doth sit. Q. Mar. 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. K. Lew. Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair? Q. Mar. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Q. Mar. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts, And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. storm, While we bethink a means to break it off. Q. Mar. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foc. K. Lew. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee 2. Mar. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow And see, where comes the breeder of my sorrow. Enter Warwick, attended. K. Lew. What's he, approacheth boldly to our presence? Q. Mar. Our earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend. K. Lew. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France? [Descending from his state. Queen Margaret rises. Q. Mar. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise; War. From worthy Edward. king of Albion, With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant Q. Mar. If that go forward, Henry's hope is done. king's behalf, I am comnianded, with your leave and favour, Before you answer Warwick. His demand Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, For how can tyrants safely govern home, 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: And why not queen? War. Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse, Of threescore and two years; a silly time Qaf. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years, War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right, Oxf. 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. War. And I the house of York. K. Lew. Queen Margaret, prince Edward, and Oxford, Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside, While I use further conference with Warwick. 2. Mar. Heaven grant, that Warwick's words bewitch him not! [Retiring with the Prince and Oxford. K. Lew. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience, Is Edward your true king? for I were loath As may beseem a monarch like himself. K. Lew. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. Bona. Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine:Yet I confess, [To War.] that often ere this day, When I have heard your king's desert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgement to desire. K. Lew. Then, Warwick, thus,-Our sister shall be And now forthwith shall articles be drawn Prince. To Edward, but not to the English king, K. Lew. 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. War. Henry now lives in Scotland, at his ease; Where having nothing, nothing he can lose. And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,— You have a father able to maintain you; And better 'twere, you troubled him than France. Q. Mar. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace; Proud setter-up and puller-down of kings; I will not hence, till with my talk and tears. [A horn sounded within. K. Lew. Warwick, this is some pust to us, or thee. |