SCENE II-A room in Sandal Castle, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire. Enter Edward, Richard, 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. 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 be forsworn. '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; * Until the white rose, that I wear, be died 'Brother, thou shalt to London presently, Enter a Messenger. 'But, stay; What news? Why com'st thou in such post? 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? (1) Of sound judgment 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. [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 order; And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. SCENE III.-Plains near Sandal Castle. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Rutland, and his Tutor. 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 And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.- Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should ⚫ 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. 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 inake 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; In blood of those that had encounter'd him: 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; 'Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, Northumberland, and Soldiers. 'Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland,- (1) Since. (2) Heaven grant this may be your greatest boast. Ovid. Epist. 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. [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; Come, make him stand upon this mole-hill here; And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York: Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails, That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? *Why art thou patient, man? thou should'st be mad; Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport; *And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.— A crown for York; and, lords, bow low to him. Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. [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. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? And I with tears do wash the blood away. He gives back the handkerchief. And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right, curse; And, in thy need, such comfort come to thee, Q. Mar. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons heI should not for my life but weep with him, York. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! Upon their woes, whom fortune captivates? I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush: Thy father bears the type of king of Naples, That beggars, mounted, run their horse to death. Thou, stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. 'Bid'st thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: 'Would'st have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord Northum- Think but upon the wrong he did us all, Q. Mar. And here's to right our gentle-hearted thee. Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set it on York gates; So York may overlook the town of York. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I-A plain near Mortimer's Cross, in * From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit ; news; Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; *The happy tidings of his good escape.— Where our right valiant father is become. For raging wind blows up incessant showers, North. Beshrew me, but his passions move me so, But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,- (1) Impale, encircle with a crown. So fled his enemies my warlike father; sun; Not separated with the racking clouds,10 (7) Demeaned himself. (2) Kill him. (3) The distinguishing mark. (4) Government, in the language of the time, sig- (9) Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the sun, nified evenness of temper, and decency of manners.when she dismisses him to his diurnal course. (5) The north. (6) Sufferings. (10) i. e. The clouds in rapid tumultuary motion. And now, to add more measure to your woes, Were brought me of your loss, and his depart. 'Rich. Say how he died, for I will hear it all. Mess. Environed he was with many foes; And stood against them as the hope of Troy2 Against the Greeks, that would have enter'd *But Hercules himself must yield to odds; * And many strokes, though with a little axe, *Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. 'By many hands your father was subdu'd; 'But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm 'Of unrelenting Clifford, and the queen: 'Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite; 'Laugh'd in his face; and, when with grief he wept, 'The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks, 'A napkin steeped in the harmless blood 'Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: And, after many scorns, many foul taunts, They took his head, and on the gates of York "They set the same; and there it doth remain, The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. Edw. Sweet duke of York, our prop to lean upon; Now thou art gone, we have no staff no stay! *O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford, thou hast slain The flower of Europe for his chivalry; And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, *For, hand to hand, he would have vanquish'd thee ! Now my soul's palace is become a prison: Rich. I cannot weep: for all my body's moisture Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: *Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden; *For self-same wind, that I should speak withal, *Is kindling coals, that fire all my breast, And burn me up with flames, that tears would Short tale to make, we at Saint Albans met, Edw. Where is the duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? And when came George from Burgundy to England? 'War. Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers : And for your brother, he was lately sent your kind aunt, duchess of Burgundy, With aid of soldiers to this needful war. Rich. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant War wick fled: Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, War. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear: For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine 'Tis love, I bear thy glories, makes me speak. you out; And therefore comes my brother Montague. Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: Rich. Ay, now, methinks, I hear great Warwick speak: Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, That cries-Retire, if Warwick bid him stay. Edw. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; And when thou fall'st (as God forbid the hour!) Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forefend! War. No longer earl of March, but duke of York; The next degree is, England's royal throne: For king of England shalt thou be proclaim'd In every borough as we pass along; And he that throws not up his cap for joy, Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. King Edward,-valiant Richard,-Montague,Stay we no longer dreaming of renown, But sound the trumpets, and about our task. * Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel *(As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,) Edw. Then strike up, drums ;-God, and Saint Enter a Messenger. War. How now? what news? SCENE II-Before York. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, the Prince of Wales, Clifford, and Northumberland, with forces. Q. Mar. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy, K. Hen. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear To see this sight, it irks my very soul.- Clif. My gracious liege, this too much lenity, The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on; Which argued thee a most unloving father. Who hath not seen them (even with those wings Which sometime they have us'd with fearful flight,) Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, Offering their own lives in their young's defence? For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! Were it not pity that this goodly boy Should lose his birthright by his father's fault; But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,- As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep, Than in possession any jot of pleasure. Ah, cousin York! 'would thy best friends did know, How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! Q. Mar. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh, And this soft courage makes your followers faint. You promis'd knighthood to our forward son; Unsheath your sword, and dub him presently. Mess. The duke of Norfolk sends you word by Edward, kneel down. K. Hen. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; And learn this lesson,-Draw thy sword in right. Prince. My gracions father, by your kingly leave, I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, And in that quarrel use it to the death. Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. (3) Foolishly. |