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Mont. And whosoe'er gainsays king Edward's By this I challenge him to single fight. [right, [Throws down his Gauntlet. All. Long live king Edward the fourth! K. Edw. Thanks, brave Montgomery ;-and thanks unto you all.

If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
Now, for this night, let's harbour here in York:
And when the morning sun shall raise his car
Above the border of this horizon, [mates;
We'll forward towards Warwick, and his
For, well I wot, that Henry is no soldier.-
Ah, froward Clarence!-how evil it beseems

To flatter Henry, and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and

Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day; And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. [Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.-London.-A Room in the Palace.


War. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,

With hasty Germans, and blunt Hollanders, Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas, And with his troops doth march amain to London;

And many giddy people flock to him.

Oxf. Let's levy men, and beat him back again.

Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out; Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,

Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; Those will I muster up-and thou, son Cla

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Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well inclin'd to hear what thou com-

And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well be:
In Oxfordshire shall muster up thy friends.-
My sovereign, with the loving citizens,-
Like to his island, girt in with the ocean,
Or modest Dian, circled with her nymphs,-
Shall rest in London, till we come to him.-
Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply.-
Farewell, my sovereign.

K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my
Troy's true hope.

Clar. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand.

K. Hen. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate!

Mont. Comfort, my lord;—and so I take my


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Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship? Methinks, the power, that Edward hath in field, Should not be able to encounter mine.

Exe. The doubt is, that he will seduce the


K. Hen. That's not my fear, my meed* hath got me fame.

I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
My mercy dry'd their water-flowing tears:
I have not been desirous of their wealth,
Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
Nor forward of revenge, though they much
Then why should they love Edward more than
No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace:
And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
The lamb will never cease to follow him.
[Shout within. A Lancaster! A Lancaster!
Exe. Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are

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ACT V. SCENE I.-Coventry.

Enter, upon the Walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of
Coventry, two MESSENGERS, and others.
War. Where is the post, that came from
valiant Oxford!

How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

War. How far off is our brother Montague?Where is the post that came from Montague? 2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVILLE. War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving And, by the guess, how nigh is Clarence now?


Som. At Southam I did leave him with his

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War. Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-
for friends.

Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly

Drums. Enter King EDWARD, GLOSTER, and
Forces, marching.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound
a parle.

Glo. See, how the surly Warwick mans the

War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward


Where slept our scouts, or how are they se-
That we could hear no news of his repair?
K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the
city gates,
Speak gentle words, and humbly, bend thy
Call Edward-king, and at his hands beg

And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces
Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee
Call Warwick-patron, and be penitent,
And thou shalt still remain the duke of York.
Glo. I thought, at least, he would have
said the king;

Or did he make the jest against his will?

War. Is not a dukedom, Sir, a goodly gift? Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give? I'll do thee service for so good a gift.*

War. 'Twas I, that gave the kingdom to thy

K. Edw. Why, then 'tis mine, if but by
Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a

And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.
K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's


And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,
What is the body, when the head is off?
Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more fore-


But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily finger'd from the deck!t
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.
K. Edw. "Tis even so; yet you are War-

wick still.

Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel down, kneel down: Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools. War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,

K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our
Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt,
If not, the city, being but of small defence,
Will issue out again, and bid us battle:
We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.
War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want
thy help.

Enter MONTAGUE, with Drum and Colours.
Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
[He and his Forces enter the City.
Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy

this treason

Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater
My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest.

Enter SOMERSET, with Drum und Colours.
Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!
[He and his Forces enter the City.
Glo. Two of thy name, both dukes of So-


Have sold their lives unto the house of York; And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with Drum and Colours.

War. And lo, where George of Clarence

sweeps along,

With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick
More than the nature of a brother's love:-


Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what
this means;

I will not ruinate my father's house, [gether,
[Taking the red Rose out of his Cap.
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:
And set up Lancaster, Why, trow'st thou,
Who gave his blood to lime* the stones to-

That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt,† unnafural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war

Against his brother, and his lawful king?
Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath:
I am so sorry for my tresspass made,
To keep that oath, were more impiety
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrific'd his daugh-
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
With resolution, whereso er I meet thee,
That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
(As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad,)
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.-
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
blood,- K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times
Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.
more belov❜d,
Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is bro-

And with the other fling it at thy face,
Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.
K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind
and tide thy friend;
This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black
Shall, whiles the head is warm, and new cut

Write in the dust this sentence with thy
Wind-changing Warwick now can change no


Enter OXFORD, with Drum and Colours. War. O cheerful colours! see, where Oxford comes!

Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[OXFORD and his Forces enter the City. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too.

* 1. e. Enroll myself among thy dependents.

† A pack of cards was anciently terined a deck of cards.

War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust!

K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? the town, and fight?

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War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for de- | Which sounded like a cannon in a vault,


I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.
K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and
leads the way:-

Lords to the field; Saint George, and victory.
[March. Exeunt.
SCENE II-A Field of Battle near Barnet.
Alarums, and Excursions. Enter King EDWARD,
bringing in WARWICK wounded.

K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die
our fear;

For Warwick was a bug, that fear'dt us all.—
Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
That Warwick's bones may keep thine com-
War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend,
or foe,

And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart

That I must yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept?
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful
These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's
black veil,

Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with

Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;
For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his


Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length!
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.


Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as
we are,

We might recover all our loss again!
The queen from France hath brought a puis-
sant power;

Even now we heard the news: Ah, could'st
thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Mon-

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul a while!
Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed

That glews my lips, and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd
his last;

And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick,
And said-Commend me to my valiant brother.
And more he would have said; and more he

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That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last,
I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,—
O, farewell, Warwick!

War. Sweet rest to his soul!-
You all farewell, to meet again in heaven.
Fly, lords, and save yourselves; for Warwick

[Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt, bearing off WARWICK's Body. SCENE III.-Another part of the Field. Flourish.-Enter King EDWARD in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest.


K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an up-
ward course,

And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
That will encounter with our glorious sun,

I mean, my lords,-those powers, that the


Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that
And blow it to the source from whence it came :
For every cloud engenders not a storm.
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up;

Glo. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd,
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.


K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving
That they do hold their course toward Tewks-
Will thither straight, For willingness rids way;
We having now the best at Barnet field,
And, as we march, our strength will be aug-

In every county as we go along.-
Strike up the drum; cry-Courage! and away.

SCENE IV.-Plains near Tewksbury.
March. Enter Queen MARGARET, Prince ED-
Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and
wail their loss,

But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown over-

The cable broke, the holding anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still: Is't meet, that he
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea.
And give more strength to that which hath too

Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say, Warwick was our anchor; What of that?
And Montague our top-mast; What of him?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; What of

Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
And Somerset another goodly mast;
The friends of France our shrouds and tack-
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep;


But keep our course, though the rough wind | Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this:-Henry, your

From shelves and rocks that threaten us with
As good to chide the waves, as speak them

And what is Edward, but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence, but a quicksand of deceit!
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while:
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly

Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish, that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the bro-

More than with ruthless waves, with sands,
and rocks.

Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,

'Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.
Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant
Should, if a coward heard her speak these
Infuse his breast with magnanimity,
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms,
I speak not this, as doubting any here:
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as God forbid !
Let him depart, before we need his help.
Oxf. Women and children of so high a
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual
O, brave young prince! thy famous grand-
Doth live again in thee; Long may'st thou
To bear his image, and renew his glories!
Som. And he, that will not fight for such a

Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.
Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset ;-sweet
Oxford, thanks.

Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath
nothing else.


Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand,

Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less it is his policy, To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness. Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.

Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will
not budge.

March. Enter at a distance, King EDWARD,

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the
thorny wood,

Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out:
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen,
what, I should say,

My tears gainsay;t for every word I speak,
* Know.
+ Unsay, deny.

Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
His realm a slaughterhouse, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name,

Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies.

SCENE V.-Another part of the same.
Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat.
TER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET,
OXFORD, and SOMERSET, Prisoners.

Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle* straight:
K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.

Orf. For my part, I will not trouble thee
with words.

Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded. Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world,

To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
K. Edw. Is proclamation made,—that, who
finds Edward,

Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Glo. It is and, lo, where youthful Edward


Enter Soldiers, with Prince EDWARD.
K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear
him speak:

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make,
And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,

Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth;
Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambi-
tious York!
Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel

Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee,
Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer

Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so re


Glo. That you might still have worn the


And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lan


Prince. Let Æsopt fable in a winter's night;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for
that word.

Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague

to men.

Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold.

Prince. Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.

K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.

Clar. Untutor'a lad, thou art too malapert,

A castle in Picardy.

+ The Prince calls Kichard, for his crookedness, Esop 11. e. I will compel you to be as silent as if you were deprived of speech by enchantment.

Prince. I know my duty, you are all undu-
Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd
And thou misshapen Dick,-I tell you all,
I am your better, traitors as ye are ;-
And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.
K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer
[Stabs him.
Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy
[GLO. stabs him.
Clar. And there's for twitting me with per-
[CLAR. stubs him.
[Offers to kill her.
hold, for we have

Q. Mar. O, kill me too!
Glo. Marry, and shall.
K. Edw. Hold, Richard,
done too much.

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world

with words?*

K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my

I'll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!


Now march we hence: discharge the common
With pay and thanks, and let's away to Lon-
And see our gentle queen how well she fares;
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.

SCENE VI.—London.-A Room in the Tower.
King HENRY is discovered sitting with a Book
in his Hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter

Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your
book so hard?

K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: My lord, I
should say rather;

Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike,
'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better:
And both preposterous; therefore, not good

Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must
[Exit Lieutenant.
K. 'Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
the wolf:
And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.-
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty
thief doth fear each bush an officer.
K. Hen. The bird, that hath been limed in a
With trembling wings misdoubteth every
Have now the fatal object in my eye,
And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught,
and kill'd.

Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy
mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak?--O traitors! mur-The
They, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equal it.
He was a man; this, in respect, a child;
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. [it?
What's worse than murderer, that I may name
No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak :-
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr'd up re-


But, if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off,
As, deathsmen! you have rid this sweet young

K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence

Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here; [death: Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it thou.

Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much


Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it.

Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thy'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. [self;

What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher,

Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art [thou? Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back. K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.

Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to this prince! [Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone? Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower. K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.

* Dispute, contention.

+ She alludes to the desertion of Clarence

Glo. Why, what a peevish‡ fool was that of
That taught his son the office of a fowl?
And yet, for all his wings, the fool was

K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus
Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea,
The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
Than can my ears that tragic history.-
My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?

Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner ?
K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
Why, then thou art an executioner.
If murdering innocents be executing,

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.
K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first
Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine.
thou didst presume,
Which now mistrust no parcels of my fear;
And thus I prophesy,-that many a thousand,
And many an old man's sigh, and many a wi-

Men for their sons, wives for their husbands'
And many an orphan's water-standing eye.--

Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
And orphans for their parents' timeless death,--
The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down

The raven rook'd|| her on the chimney's top,
And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
*Careless. + To misdoubt is to suspect danger, to fear.
t Childish. No part of what my fears presage.
To rook, signified to squat down or lodge on any

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