Scene I. THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI. 'Ill plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares :- Flourish. Enter King Henry, Clifford, Northum- K. Hen. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends. steel. West. What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: 'My heart for anger burns, I cannot brook it. K. Hen. Be patient, gentle earl of Westmoreland. North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin; be it so. heart, To make a shambles of the parliament-house! Fork. 'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. Clif. Whom should he follow, but his natural 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, I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger, (1) Since. 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 crown? Thy father was, as thou art, duke of York; War. Talk not of France, sith' thou hast lost it all. you lose : Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Let's fight it out, and not stand cavilling thus. 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. Wherein my grandsire, and my father, sat? War. But prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. crown. York. 'Twas by rebellion against his king. K. Hen. An if he may, then am I lawful king: York. He rose against him, being his sovereign, Exe. No; for he could not so resign his crown, 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,- Clif. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, (2) i. e. Detrimental to the general rights of hereditary royalty. '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. [He stamps, 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, And thou shalt reign in quiet whilst thou liv'st. K. Hen. I am content: Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. 'Q. Mar. Nay, go not from me, I will follow thee. K. Hen. Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. Q. Mar. Who can be patient in such extremes? Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid, And never seen thee, never born 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 wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, * Rather than made that savage duke thine heir, * And disinherited thine only son. 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 injured both thyself and us! West. I cannot stay to hear these articles. North. Nor I. Clif. Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these 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 perform. [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! [Senet. 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. Ånd I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. *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? The northern lords, that have forsworn thy colours, 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 Enter Queen Margaret and the Prince of Wales. Exe. Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray'* her anger; I'll steal away. Exeter, so will I. (1) Betray, discover. [Going. (2) Peck. 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, Tire2 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. [Exeunt. * SCENE II-A room in Sandal Castle, near Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me ;Wakefield, in Yorkshire. Enter Edward, Rich-My brother Montague shall post to London: ard, and Montague. Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me Edw. No, I can better play the orator. '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 death. 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'd break a thousand oaths, to reign one year. 'Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should forsworn. *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. [Ex. 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 And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. "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: Henry had none, but did usurp the place; Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, 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, *And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. * Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest, *Until the white rose, that I wear, be died * Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. 'York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. Brother, thou shalt to London presently, "And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.Thou, Richard, shalt unto the duke of Norfolk, 'And tell him privily of our intent.'You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham, With whom the Kentish-men will willingly rise: 'In them I trust; for they are soldiers, "Witty' and courteous, liberal, full of spirit."While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, 'But that I seek occasion how to rise; And yet the king not privy to my drift, 'Nor any of the house of Lancaster? SCENE III.-Plains near Sandal Castle. 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, Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company. 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 threat'ning 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; X 'And till I root out their accursed line, 'And leave not one alive, I live in hell. Therefore [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. Rut. But 'twas ere I was born. Ah, let me live in prison all my days; Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. Clif. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade, Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. [Exit. SCENE IV.-The same. Alarum. Enter York. 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 ground! of 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, And spend her strength with over-matching waves. 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; 'Herc must I stay, and here my life must end. Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, Northumberland, and Soldiers. "Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? Clif. So cowards fight, when they can fly no further; So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. York. O, Clifford, but bethink thee once again, And in thy thought o'er-run my former time: And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face; And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice, "Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this. Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word; But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. I would prolong a while the traitor's life :— Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. North. Hold, Clifford; do not honour him so much, To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: [They lay hands on York, who struggles. Clif. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. North. So doth the coney struggle in the net. [York is taken prisoner. York. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. North. What would your grace have done unto him now? Q. Mar. Brave warriors, Clifford, and Northumberland, Come, make him stand upon this mole-hill here; "That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. What! was it you, that would be England's king? Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, And made a preachment of your high descent? Where are your mess of sons to back you now; The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? 'And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, Dicky your boy, that, with his grumbling voice, Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? Look, York; I stain'd this napkin' with the blood That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, Made issue from the bosom of the boy: And, if thine eyes can water for his death, I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, I should lament thy miserable state. 6 'Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland,I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York: 'I dare your quenchless fury to more rage; "I am your butt, and I abide your shot. North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. Clif. Ay, to such mercy, as his ruthless arm, With downright payment, show'd unto my father. Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car, And made an evening at the noontide prick.4 York. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth A bird that will revenge upon you all: 'And, in that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven, Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. (1) Since. (2) Heaven grant this may be your greatest boast. Ovid. Epist. Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. [Putting a paper crown on his head. (3) i. e. We boggled, made bad or bungling work of our attempt to rally. (4) Noontide point on the dial. (5) Honest men. (6) Reached. (7) Handkerchief. |