Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: This is the hand, that stabb'd thy father York; And this the hand, that slew thy brother Rutland ; And here's the heart, that triumphs in their death, And cheers these hands, that slew thy sire and brother, To execute the like upon thyself; And so, have at thee. 451 [They fight. WARWICK enters, CLIFFORD flies. Rich. Nay, Warwick, single out some other chace; For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Alarum. Enter King HENRY. Another Part of the Field. K. Henry. This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, 460 Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind: Yet Yet neither conqueror, nor conquered. Here on this mole-hill will I sit me down. To whom God will, there be the victory! 470 For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the time:.. So many hours must I take my rest; So many days my ewes have been with young; 480 490 So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, Past over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! Gives Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. 500 512 Alarum. Enter a Son that had killed his Father. Son. Ill blows the wind, that profits nobody.→ This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, May be possessed of some store of crowns? And I, that haply take them from him now, May yet ere night yield both my life and them To some man else, as this dead man doth me.Who's this?-Oh God! it is my father's face, Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. Oh heavy times, begetting such events ! From London by the king was I press'd forth; My father, being the earl of Warwick's man, 520 Came on the part of York, press'd by his master ; And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life, Have by my hands of life bereaved him,→ Pardon ine, God, I knew not what I did! And And pardon, father, for I knew not thee !→→→ Enter a Father, bearing his Son. Fath. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, 530 Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise, Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, 541 Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart!— What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, K. Henry. Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds →→→ O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! -551 The The red rose and the white are on his face, 561 K. Henry. How will the country, for these woful chances, Mis-think the king, and not be satisfy'd ? Son. Was ever son, so ru'd a father's death? woe? Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much. Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. [Exit, with the Body. Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy winding sheet; My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre ; 570 My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; As Priam was for all his valiant sons. I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, [Exit, with the Body. K. Hendy. |