againe For yet there 's hope inough to win the daie Then let vs backe to cheere our fainting Troupes Lest they retire now we haue left the field War How now my lords what hap what hope of good Enter Richard running Rich. Ah Warwike why haste thou withdrawne thy selfe Thy noble father in the thickest thronges Cride still for Warwike his thrise valiant son Vntill with thousand swords he was beset And manie wounds made in hâ—s aged brest And as he tottering sate vpon his sleede He waâ—t his hand to me and cride aloud Richard commend me to my valiant sonne And stâ—ll he cride Warwike reuenge my death And with those words he tumbled off his horse And so the noble Salsbury gaue vp the ghost War â—hen let the earth be drunken with his bloud I le kill my horse because I wiâ—l not she And here to God of heauen I make a vow Neuer to passe from fâ—rth this bloudy field Till I am full reuenged for his death Edw. Lord Warwike Idâ—e bend my knees with thine And in that vow now ioine my soule to thee Thou setter vp and puller downe of kings vouchsafe a gentle victorie to vs Or let vs die before we loose the daie George Then let vs haste to cheere the souldiers hâ—rts And call them pillers that will stand to vs And hiely promise to remunerate Their trustie seruice in these dangerous warres Rich. Come come awaie and stand not to debate For yet is hope of fortune good enough Brothers giue me your hands and let vs part And take our leaues vntill we meet againe Where ere it be in heauen or in earth Now I that neuer wept now melt in wo To see these dire mishaps continue so Warwike farewel War Awaie awaie once more sweet Lords farewell Exeunt Omnes Alarmes and then enter Richard at one dore and Clifford at the other Rich. A Clifford a Clifford Clif. A Richard a Richard Rich. Now Clifford for Yorke young Rutlands death This thirsty sword that longs to drinke thy bloud Shall lop thy limmes and slise thy cursed hart For to reuenge the murders thou hast made Clif. Now Richard I am with thee here alone This is the hand that stabd thy father Yorke And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland And here 's the heart that triumphs in theâ—â— dâ—â—thes And cheeres these hands that slew thy 〈◊〉 and brother To execute the like vpon thy selfe And so haue at thee Alarmes They fight and then enters Warwike and rescues Richard then exeunt omnes Alarmes still and then enter Henry solus Hen. Oh gratious God of heauen looke downe on vs And set some endes to these incessant griefes How like a mastlesse ship vpon the seas This woful battaile doth continue still Now leaning this way now to that side driue And none doth know to whom the daie will fall O would my death might staie these ciuilliars Would I had neuer raind nor nere bin king Margret and Clifford chide me from the fielde Swearing they had best successe when I was thence Would God that I were dead so all were well Or would my crowne suffice I were content To yeeld it them and liue a priuate life Enter a souldier with a dead man in his armes Sould Il blowes the wind that profits no bodie This man that I haue slaine in fight to daie Maie be possessed of some store of crownes And I will search to find them if I can But stay Me thinkes it is my fathers face Oh I t is he whom I haue slaine in fight From London was I prest out by the king My father he came on the part of Yorke And in this conflict I haue slaine my father Oh pardon God I knew not what I did And pardon father for I knew thee not Enter an other souldier with a dead man 2. Soul Lie there thou that foughtst with me so stoutly Now let me see what store of gold thou haste But staie me thinkes this is no famous face Oh no it is my sonne that I haue slaine in sight O monstrous times begetting such euents How cruel bloudy and ironious This deadlie quarrell dailie doth beget Poore boy thy fâ—ther gaue thee lif too late And hath bâ—reau'de thee of thy life too sone King Wo aboue wo griefe more then common griese Whilst Lyons warre and battaile for their dens Poore lambs do feele the rigor of their wraths The red rose and the white are on his face The fatall colours of our striuing houses Wither one rose and let the other flourish For if you striue ten thousand liues must perish 1. Sould. How will my mother for my fathers death Take on with me and nere be satisfide 2. Sol. How will my wife for slaughter of my son Take on with me and nere be satisfide King How will the people now misdeeme their king Oh would my death their mindes could satisfie 1. Sould. Was euer son so rude his fathers bloud to spil 2 Soul Was euer father so vnnaturall his son to kill King Was euer king thus greeud and vexed still 1. Sould. I le beare thee hence from this accursed place For wo is me to see my fathers face Exit with his father 2. Soul I le beare thee hence let them fight that wil For I haue murdered where I should not kill Exit with his sonne K. Hen. Weepe wretched man I le lay thee teare for tear Here sits a king as woe begone as thee Alarmes and enter the Queene Queen Awaie my Lord to Barwicke presentlie The daie 〈…〉 our friends are murdered No hope is left for vs therefore awaie Enter prince Edward Prince Oh father flie our men haue left the field Take horse sweet father let vs saue our selues Enter Exeter Exet. Awaie my Lord for vengance comes along with him Nay stand not to expostulate make hast Or else come after I le awaie before K Hen. Naie staie good Exeter for I le along with thee Enter Clissord wounded with an arrow in his necke Clif. Heere burnes my candell ouâ— That whilst it lasted gaue king Henry light Ah Lancaster I feare thine ouerthrow More then my bodies parting from my soule My loue and feare glude manie friendes to thee And now I die that tough commixture melts Impairing Henry strengthened misproud Yorke The common people swarme like summer flies And whither flies the Gnats but to the sun And who shines now but Henries enemie Oh Phâ—â—bus hadst thou neuer giuen consent That Phâ—â—â—on should checke thy fierie steedes Thy burning carre had neuer scorcht the earth And Henry hadst thou liu'd as kings should doe And as thy father and his father did Giuing no foot vnto the house of Yorke I and ten thousand in this wofull land Had left no mourning Widdowes for our deathes And thou this daie hadst kept thy throne in peace For what doth cherish weedes but gentle aire And what makes robbers bold but lenitie Bootlesse are plaintes and curelesse are my woundes No waie
of Lancaster are marching towards Wakefield To besiedge you in your castell heere Enter sir Iohn and sir Hugh Mortimer Yorke A Gods name let them come Cosen Montague post you hence and boies staie you with me Sir Iohn and sir Hugh Mortemers mine vncles Your welcome to Sandall in an happie houre The armie of the Queene meanes to besiedge vs. Sir Iohn Shee shall not neede my Lorde wee le meete her in the field York What with fiue thousand souldiers vncle Rich. I father with fiue hundred for a need A womans generall what should you feare York Indeed manie braue battels haue I woon In Normandie when as the enimie Hath bin ten to one and why should I now doubt Of the like successe I am resolu'd Come lets goe Edw. Le ts martch awaie I heare their drums Exit Alarmes and then Enter the yong Earle of Rutland and his Tutor Tutor Oh flie my Lord le ts leaue the Castell And flie to Wakefield straight Enter Clifford Rut. O Tutor looke where bloudie Clifford comes Clif. Chaplin awaie thy Priesthood saues thy life As for the brat of that accursed Duke Whose father slew my father he shall die Tutor Oh Clifford spare this tender Lord least Heauen reuenge it on thy head Oh saue his life Clif Soldiers awaie and drag him hence perforce Awaie with the villaine Exit the Chaplein How now what dead alreadie or is it feare that Makes him close his eies I le open them Rut. So lookes the pent vp Lion on the lambe And so he walkes insulting ouer his praie And so he turnes againe to rend his limmes in sunder Oh Clifford kill me with thy sword and Not with such a cruell threatning looke I am too meane a subiect for thy wrath Be thou reuengde on men and let me liue Clif. In vaine thou speakest poore boy my fathers Bloud hath stopt the passage where thy wordes shoulde enter Rut. Then let my fathers blood ope it againe he is a Man and Clifford cope with him Clif. Had I thy brethren here their liues and thine Were not reuenge sufficient for me Or should I dig vp thy forefathers graues And hang their rotten coffins vp in chaines It could not slake mine ire nor case my hart The sight of anie of the house of Yorke Is as a furie to torment my soule Therefore till I root out that curssed line And leaue not one on earth I le liue in hell therefore Rut. Oh let me praie before I take my death To thee I praie Sweet Clifford pittie me Clif. I such pittiâ—â—s my rapiers point affords Rut. I neuer did thee hurt wherefore wilt thou kill mee Clif. Thy father hath Rut. But t was ere I was borne Thou hast one sonne for his sake pittie me Least in reuenge thereof 〈◊〉 God is iust He be as miserablie slaine as I. Oh let me liue in prison all my daies And when I giue occasion of offence Then let me die for now thou hast no cause Clif. No cause Thy Father slew my father therefore Die Plantagenet I come Plantagenet And this thy sonnes bloud cleauing to my blade Shall rust vpon my weapon till thy bloud Congeald with his doe make me wipe off both Exit Alarmes Enter the Duke of Yorke solus Yorke Ah Yorke post to thy castell saue thy life The goale is lost thou house of Lancaster Thrise happie chance is it for thee and thine That heauen abridgde my daies and cals me hence But God knowes what chance hath betide my sonnes But this I know they haue demeand themselues Like men borne to renowne by life or death Three times this daie came Richard to my sight And cried courage Father Victorie or death And twise so oft came Edward to my view With purple Faulchen painted to the hilts In bloud of those whom he had slaâ—ghtered Oh harke I heare the drums No waie to flie No waie to saue my life And heere I staie And heere my life must end Enter the Queene Clifford Northumberland and souldiers Come bloudie Clifford rough Northumberland I dare your quenchlesse â—â—rie to more bloud This is the But and this abides your shot Northum Yeeld to our mercies proud Plantagenet Clif. I to such mercie as his ruthfull arme With downe right paiment lent vnto my father Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his carre And made an euening at the noone tide pricke York My ashes like the Phoenix maie bring forth A bird that will reuenge it on you all And in that hope I cast mine eies to heauen Skorning what ere you can afflict me with Why staie you Lords what multitudes and feare Clif. So cowards fight when they can flie no longer So Doues doe pecke the Rauens piersing tallents So desperate theeues all hopelesse of their liues Breath out inuectiues gainst the officers York Oh Clifford yet bethinke thee once againe And in thy minde orerun my former time And bite thy toung that slaunderst him with cowardise Whose verie looke hath made thee quake â—re this Clif. I will not bandie with thee word for word But buckle with thee blowes twise two for one Queene Hold valiant Clifford for a thousand causes I would prolong the traitors life a while Wrath makes him death speake thou Northumberland Nor. Hold Clifford doe not honour him to much To pricke thy finger though to wound his hart What valure were it when a curre doth grin For one to thrust his hand betweene his teeth When he might spurne him with his foote awaie T is warres prise to take all aduantages And ten to one is no impeach in wanes Fight and take him Cliff I I so striues the Woodcocke with the gin North. So doth the cunnâ—e struggle with the net York So triumphs theeues vpon their conquered Bootie So true men yeeld by robbers ouermatcht North. What will your grace haue done with him Queen Braue warriors Clifford Northumberland Come make him stand vpon thâ—s molehill here That aâ—mde at mountaines with outstâ—etched arme And parted but the shaddow with his hand Was it you that reuelde in our Parlement And made a prechment of your high descent Where are your messe of sonnes to backe you now The wanton Edward and the lâ—stie George Or where is that valiant Crookbackt prodegie Dickey your boy that with his grumbling voice Was wont to cheare his Dad in mutinâ—es Or amongst the rest where is your daâ—â—ing Rutland Looke Yorke I dipt this napkin in the bloud That valiant Clifford with his rapiers point Made isâ—ue from the bosome of thy boy And if thine eâ—es can water for his death I giue thee this to drie thy cheeks with all Alas poore Yorke But that I hate thee much I should lament thy miserable state I prethee greeue to make me merrie Yorke Stamp raue and fret that I maie sing and dance What hath thy fierie hart so parcht thine entrailes That not a teare can fall for Rutlands death Thou wouldst be feede I see to make me sport Yorke cannot speake vnlesle he
weare a crowne A crowne for Yorke and Lords bow low to him So hold you his hands whilst I doe set it on I now lookes he like a king This is he that tooke king Henries chaire And this is he was his adopted aire But how is it that great Plantagenet Is crownd so soone and broke his holie oath As I bethinke me you should not be king Till our Henry had shooke hands with death And will you impale your head with Henries glorie And rob his temples of the Diadem Now in his life against your holie oath Oh t is a fault too too vnpardonable Off with the crowne and with the crowne his head And whilst we breath taâ—e time to doe him dead Clif. That 's my office for my fathers death Queen Yet stay le ts here the Orisons he makes York She wolfe of France but worse than Wolues of France Whose tongue more poison'd than the Adders tooth How ill beseeming is it in thy sexe To triumph like an Amazonian trull Vpon his woes whom Fortune captiuates But that thy face is visard like vnchanging Made impudent by vse of euill deeds I would assaie proud Queene to make thee blush To tell thee of whence thou art from whom deriâ—de T were shame enough to shame thee wert thou not shamelesse Thy father beares the type of king of Naples Of both the Sissâ—les and Ierusalem Yet not so wealthie as an English yeoman Hath that poore Monarch taught thee to insult It needes not or it bootes thee not proud Queene Vnlesse the Adage must be verâ—â—â—de That beggers mâ—unted run their horse to death T is beautie that oft makes women proud But God he wots thy sâ—are thereof is small T is gouernmâ—nt that makes them most admirde The contrarie doth make thee wondred at T is vertue that makes them seeme deuine The want thereof makes thee abhominable Thou art as opposite to euerie good As the Antipodes are vnto vs Or as the south to the Septentrion Oh Tygers hart wrapt in a womans hide Hovv couldst thou draine the life bloud of the childe To bid the father wiâ—e his eies withall And yet be seene to beare a womans face Women are milde pittifull and flexible Thou indurate sterne rough râ—morcelesse Bids thou me rage why novv thou hast thy vvill Wouldst haue me weepe vvhy so thou hast thy vvish For raging windes blowes vp a storme of teares And when the rage alâ—ieâ— the raine begins These teares are my sweet Rutlands obsequies And euerie drop bâ—gs vengeance as it fals On thee fell Clifford and the false French woman North. Beshrevv me but his passions moue me so As hardlie can I checke mine eies from teares York That facâ— of his the hungrie Cannibals Could not haue tucht would not haue staind with bloud But you are more inhumaine more inexorable O ten times more then Tvgers of Arcadia See ruthlesse Queene a haplesse fathers teares This cloth thou dipts in bloud of my sweet boy And loe with teares I wash the bloud awaie Keepe thou the napkin and go boast of that And if thou tell the heauie storie well Vpon my soule the hearers will shee l teares I euen my soes will shee l fast falling teares And saie alas it was a pitteous deed Here take the crowne and with the crowne my curse And in thy need such comfort come to thee As now I reape at thy tvvo cruell hands Hard-harted Clifford take me from the world My soule to heauen my bloud vpon your heads North. Had he bin slaughterman of all my kin I could not chuse but weepe with him to see How inlie anger gripes his hart Quee. What weeping ripe my Lorde Northumberland Thinke but vpon the wrong he did vs all And that will quicklie drie your melting tears Clif. Thear 's for my oath thear 's for my fathers death Queene And thear 's to right our gentle harted kind York Open thy gates of mercie gratious God My soule flies foorth to meet with thee Queene Off with his head and set it on Yorke Gates So Yorke maie ouerlooke the towne of Yorke Exeunt omnes Enter Edward and Richard with drum and Souldiers Edw. After this dangerous fight and haplesse warre Hoâ— doth my noble brother Richard fare Rich. I cannot ioy vnâ—il I be resolu'de Where our â—â—ght valiant father is become Hâ—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I see him beare himselfe As 〈…〉 â—idst a heard of neat So 〈…〉 our valiant father Me thinkes t is 〈◊〉 enough to be his sonne Three 〈…〉 in the aire Edw. 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 opes her golden gates And takes her farewell of the glorious sun Daâ—â—◠〈…〉 doe I see three suns Rich Three glorious suns 〈◊〉 seperated by a racking Cloud but 〈◊〉 in a pale cleere shining skie 〈…〉 they ioine embrace and seeme to kisâ—e 〈…〉 vowde some league inuiolate 〈…〉 are they but one lampe one light one sun In this the heauens doth figure some euent Edw. I thinke it cites vs brother to the field That we the sonnes of braue Plantagenet Alreadie each one shining by his meed May ioine in one and ouerpeere the world As this the earth and therefore hence forward I le beare vpon my Target three faire shining suns But what art thou that lookest so heauilie Mes Oh one that was a wofull looker on When as the noble Duke of Yorke was slaine Edw. O speake no more for I can heare no more Rich. Tell on thy tale for I will heare it all Mes When as the noble Duke was put to slight And then pursu'de by Clifford and the Queene And manie souldiers mâ—â— who all at once Let driue at him and forst the Duke to yeeld And then they set him on a molehill there And crownd the gratious Duke in high despite Who then with â—â—ares began to waile his fall The 〈◊〉 Queene â—â—â—â—euing he did weepe Gaue hâ—m a handkercher to wipe his eies Dâ—pt in the bloud of sweet young Rutland By rough Clifford slâ—ine who weeping tooke it vp Then through hâ—s brest they thrust their bloudy swordes Who like a lâ—mbe fell at the butchers feete Then on the gates of Yorke they set his head And there it doth remaine the piteous spectacle That ere mine eies beheld Edw. Sweet Duke of Yorke our prop to leane vpon Now thou art gone there is no hope for vs Now my soules pallace is become a prison Oh would she breake from compasâ—e of my breast For neuer shall I haue more ioie Rich. I cannot weepe for all my breasts moisture Scarse serues to quench my furnacâ— burning hart I cannot ioie till this white rose be dide Euen in the hart bloud of the house of Lancaster Richard I bare thy name and I le reuenge thy death Or die my selfe in seeking of reuenge Edw. His name that valiant Duke hath lâ—ft with thee His chaire and Dukedome that remaines for me Rich. Nay if thou be that princely Eagles bird Shew thy descent by gazing gainst the sunne For chaire and dukedome Throne and
to flie no strength to hold our flight The foe is mercilesse and will not pittie me And at their hands I haue deserude no pittie The aire is got into my bleeding wounds And much effuse of bloud doth make me faint Come Yorke and Richard Warwike and the rest I stabde your fathers now come split my brest Enter Edward Richard and Warwike and Souldiers Edw. Thus farre our fortunes keepes an vpward Course and we are grast with wreathes of victorie Some troopes pursue the bloudie minded Queene That now towards Barwike 〈…〉 amaâ—â—e But thinke you that Clifford is sled awaie with them War No t is impossible he should escape For though before his face I speake the words Your brother Richard markt him for the graue And where so ere he be I warrant him dead Clifford grones and then dies Edw. Harke what soule is this that takes his heauy leaue Rich. A deadlie grone like life and deaths departure Edw. See who it is and now the battailes ended Friend or foe let him be friendlie vsed Rich. Reuerse that doome of mercie for t is Clifford Who kild our tender brother Rutland And stabd our princelie father Duke of Yorke War From off the gates of Yorke fetch downe the Head Your fathers head which Clifford placed there Insteed of that let his supplie the roome Measure for measure must be answered Edw. Bring forth that fatall skrichowle to our house That nothing sung to vs but bloud and death Now his euill boding tongue no more shall speake War I thinke his vnderstanding is berest Say Clifford doest thou know who speakes to thee Darke cloudie death oreshades his beames of life And he nor sees nor heares vs what we saie Rich. Oh would he did and so perhaps he doth And t is his policie that in the time of death He might auoid such bitter stormes as he In his houre of death did giue vnto our father George Richard if thou thinkest so vex him with eagâ—r words Rich. Clifford aske mercie and obtaine no grace Edw. Clifford repent in bootlesse penitence War Clifford deuise excuses for thy fault George Whilst we deuise fell tortures for thy fault Rich. Thou pittiedst Yorke and I am sonne to Yorke Edw. Thou pittiedst Rutland and I will pittie thee George Where 's captaine Margaret to â—ence you now War They mocke thee Clifford sweare as thou wast wont Rich. What not an oth Nay then I know hee s dead T is hard when Clifford cannot foord his friend an oath By this I know hee s dead and by my soule Would this right hand buy but an howres life That I in all contempt might raile at him I de cut it off and with the issuing bloud Stifle the villaine whose inst inched thirst Yorke and young Rutland could not satisfie War I but he is dead off with the traitors head And reare it in the place your fathers stands And now to London with triumphant march There to be crowned Englands lawfull king From thence shall Warwike crosse the seas to France And aske the ladie Bona for thy Queene So shalt thou sinew both these landes togither And hauing France thy friend thou needst not dread The scattered foe that hopes to rise againe And though they cannot greatly sting to hurt Yet looke to haue them busie to offend thine eares First I le see the coronation done And afterward I le crosse the seas to France To effect this marriage if it please my Lord. Edw. Euen as thou wilt good Warwike let it be But first before we goe George kneele downe We here create thee Duke of Clarence and girt thee with the sword Our younger brother Richard Duke of Glocester Warwike as my selfe shal do vndo as him pleaseth best Rich. Let me be Duke of Clarenco George of Gloster For Glosters Duke dome is too ominous War Tush that 's a childish obseruation Richard be Duke of Gloster Now to London To see these honors in possession Exeunt Omnes Enter two keepers with bow and arrowes Keeper Come le ts take our stands vpon this hill And by and by the deere will come this waie But staie heere comeâ— a man le ts listen him a while Enter king Henrie disguisde Hen. From Scotland am I stolne euen of pure loue And thus disguisde to greet my natiue land No Henrie no It is no land of thine No bending knee will call thee Caesar now No humble suâ—â—â—s sues to thee for right For how canst thou helpe them and not thy selfe Keeper I marrie sir here is a deere his skin is a Keepers fee Sirra stand close for as I thinke This is the king king Edward hath deposde Hen. My Queene and sonne poore soules are gone to France and as I heare the great commanding Warwike To intreat a marriage with the ladie Bona If this be true poore Queene and sonne Your labour is but spent in vaine For Lewis is a prince soone wun with words And Warwike is a subtill Orator He laughes and saies his Edward is instalde She weepes and saies her Henry is deposde He on his right hand asking a wise for Edward She on his left side crauing aide for Henry Keeper What art thou that talkes of kings and queens Hen. More then I seeme for lesse I should not be A man at least and more I cannot be And men maie talke of kings and why not I Keeper I but thou talkest as if thou wert a king thy selfe Hen. Why so I am in mind though not in shew Keeper And if thou be a king where is thy crowne Hen. My crowne is in my hart not on my head My crowne is calde content a crowne that Kings doe seldome times enioy Keeper And if thou be a king crownd with content Your crowne content and you must be content To go with vs vnto the officer for as we thinke You are our quondam king K. Edward hath deposde And therefore we charge you in Gods name the kings To go along with vs vnto the officers Hen. Gods name be fulfild your kings name be Obaide and be you kings command and I le obay Exeunt Omnes Enter king Edward Clarence and Gloster Montague Hastings and the Lady Gray K Edw. Brothers of Clarence and of Glocester This ladies husband heere sir Râ—chard Gray At the battaile of saint Alkones did lose his life His lands then were seazed on by the conqueror Her sute is now to repossesse those lands And sith in quarrell of the house of Yorke The noble gentleman did lose his life In honor we cannot denie her â—â—te Glo. Your highnesse shall doe well to grant it then K Edw I so I will but yet I le make a pause Glo. I is the wind in that doore Clarence I see the Lady hath some thing to grant Before the king will grant her humble lute Cla. He knows the game how well he keepes the wind K Ed. Widow come some other time to know our mind La. May it please your grace I cannot brooke
your loue and fauour Humblie to kisse your hand and with my tongue To tell the passions of my soueraines hart Where same late entring at his heedfull cares Hath plast thy glorious image and thy vertues Queen King Lewes and Lady Bona heare me speake Before you answere Warwike or his words For hee it is hath done vs all these wrongs War Iniurious Margaret Prince Ed. And why not Queene War Because thy father Henry did vsurpe And thou no more art Prince then shee is Queene Ox. Then Warwike disanuls great Ioha of Gaunt That did subdue the greatest part of Spaine And after Iohn of Gaunt wise Henry the fourth Whose wisedome was a mirrour to the world And after this wise prince Henry the fift Who with his prowesse conquered all France From these our Henries lincallie discent War Oxford how haps that in this smooth discourse You told not how Henry the sixt had lost All that Henry the fift had gotten Me thinkes these peeres of France should smile at that But for the rest you tell a pettigree Of three score and two yeares a sillie time To make prescription for a kingdomes worth Oxf. Why Warwike canst thou denâ—e thy king Whom thou obeyedst thirtie and eight yeeres And bewray thy treasons with a bluâ—h War Can Oxford that did euer fence the right Now buckler falshood with a pettigree For shâ—me leaue Henry and call Edward king Oxf. Call him my king by whom mine elder Brother the Lord Aubray Vere was done to death And more than so my father euen in the Downefall of his mellowed yeares When age did call him to the dore of deatâ— No Warwike no whilst life vpholds this arme This arme vpholds the house of Lancaster War And I the house of Yorke K Lewes Queene Margaret prince Edward and Oxford voâ—chsafe to forbeare a while Till I doe talke a word with Warwike Now Warwike euen vpon thy honor tell me true Is Edward lawfull king or no For I were loath to linke with him that is not lawful heir War Thereon I pawne mine honour and my credit Lew. What is he gratious in the peoples eies War The more that Henry is vnfortunate Lew. What is his loue to our sister Buna War Such it seemes As maie beseeme a monarke like himselfe My selfe haue often heard him sâ—â—e and sweare That this his loue was an eternall plant The roâ—t whereof was fixt in vertues ground The leaues and fruite maintainde with beautiâ—s sun Exempt from enuie but not from disdaine Vnlesse the ladie Bona quite his paine Lew. Then sister let vs heare your firme resolue Bona. Your grant or your denial shall be mine But ere this daie I must confesse when I Haue heard your kings deserts recounted Mine eares haue tempted iudgement to desire Lew. Then draw neere Queene Margaret and be a Witnesse that Bona shall be wife to the English king Prince Edw. To Edward but not the English king War Henry now liues in Scotland at his ease Where hauing nothing nothing can be lose And as for you your seife our quondun Queene You haue a father able to mainetaine your state And better t were to trouble him them France Sound for a post within Lew. Here comes some post Warwike to thee orvs Post My Lord ambassador this letter is for you Sent from your brother Marquis Montague This from our king vnto your Maiestie And these to you Madam from whom I know not Oxf. I like it well that our saire Queene and mistresse Smiles at her newes when Warwike frets as his P. Ed. And marke how Lewes stamps as he were nettled Lew. Now Margaret Warwike what are your news Queen Mine such as fils my hart full of ioie War Mine full of sorrow and harts discontent Lew. What hath your king married the Ladie Gray And now to excuse himselfe sends vs a post of papers How dares he presume to vse vs thus Quee. This proueth Edwards loue Warwiks honesty War King Lewis I here protest in sight of heauen And by the hope I haue of heauenlie blisle That I am cleare from this misdeed of Edwards No more my king for hâ— diâ—â—onours me And most himselfe if he could see his shâ—me Did I forget that by the house of Yorke My father came vntimelie to his death Did I let passe the abuse done to my neece Did I impale him with the regall Crowne And thrust king Henry from his natiue home And most vngratefull doth he vse me thus My gratious Queene pardon what is past And henceforth I am thy true sâ—ruâ—toâ—r I will reuenge the wrongs done to ladie Bona And replant Henry in his former state Queen Yes Warwike I doe quite forget thy former Faults if now thou wilt become king Henries friend War So much his friend I his vnfained friend That if king Lewes vouchsafe to furnish vs With some few bands of chosen souldiers I le vndertake to land them on our coast And force the Tyrant from his seate by warre T is not his new made bride shall succour him Lew. Then at the last I fiâ—mâ—lie am â—esolu'd You shall haue aide and English messenger returne In post and tell false Edward thy supposed kâ—ng That Lewis of France is sending ouer Maskers To reuell it with him and his new bride Bona Tell him in hope hee le be a Widower shortlie I le weare the willow garland for hâ—s sake Queen Tell him my mourning weedes be laidle aside And I am readie to put armour on War Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong And therefore I le vncrowne him er'e be long Thear 's thy reward begone Lew. But now tell me Warwike what assurance I shall haue of thy true loyaltie War This shall assure my constant loyaltie If that our Queene and this young prince agree I le ioine mine eldest daughter and my ioie To him forthwith in holie wedlockes bandes Queen Withall my hart that match I like full wel Loue her sonne Edward shee is faite and yong And giue thy hand to Warwike for thy loue Lew. It is enough and now we will prepare To leuie 〈…〉 for to go with you And you Lord Bourbon our high Admirall Shall waft them safelie to the English coast And chase proud Edward from his slumbring trance For mocking marriage with the name of France War I camâ— from Edward as I mbassadour But I returne his sworne and mortall foâ— Matter of marriage was the charge he gaue me But dreadfull warre shall answere his demand Had he none else to make a stale but me Then none but I shall turne his iest to sorrow I was the chiâ—fe that raisde him to the crowne And I le be chiefe to bring him downe againe Not that I pittie Henries miserie But seeke reuenge on Edwards mockerie Exit Enter king Edward the Queene and Clarence and Gloster and Montague and Hastings and Penbrooke with souldiers Edw. Brothers of Clarence and of Glocester What thinke you of our marriage with the ladie Gray
saie commend me to my valiant brother And more he would haue spoke and 〈◊〉 he said Which sounded like a 〈…〉 a vault That could not bâ— distinguisht for the sound And so the valâ—ant Montague gaue vp the ghost War What is pompe rule raâ—gâ—e but earth and dust And liue we how we can yet the wâ— mâ—st Sweet rest his soule she Lords and 〈◊〉 your selues For Warwike bids you all farewell to meeâ—â—n Hâ—auen He dies Oxf Come noble Summerset le ts take our horse And cause retrait be sounded through the campe That all our friends that yâ—t remaine aliue Maie be awarn'd and â—aue themselues by flight That done with them wee le post vnto the Queene And once moâ—euiâ— our fortune in thâ— fiâ—ld Ex ambo Enter Edward Clarence Gloster with souldiers Edw. Thus still our fortune 〈◊〉 vs victorie And gâ—â—ts our temples with trâ—umphant â—oies The bigboond traytor Warwike hath breathde his last An I heauen this daie hath smâ—â—de vâ—on vâ—â—all But in this cleere and brightsome â—aâ—e I see a blacke suspitious cloud appeare That will encâ—unter with our glorious sunne Before he gaine his â—asefull wâ— steâ—e be â—â—es I mean those powers which the Queen hath got in FraÌ„ce Are landed and meane once more to menace vs. Glo. Oxford and Summerset are sled to hiâ— And 〈◊〉 likelie if she haue time to breath Hâ—r fact on will be full as strong as ours Edw. We are aduertisde by our louing friends That they doe hold their course towards Towâ—burie Thâ—ther will we 〈◊〉 for willingnes rids waie And in euerie countie as we pasâ—e along Oâ—â— str engthes shall be augmented Come le ts goe for if we slacke this faire Bâ—â—ght Summers daie sharpe winters Shoâ—ers wâ—ll maâ—e our hope for haie Ex Omnes Enter the Queene Prince Edward Oxford and Summerset wiâ—h drum and souldiers Quee. Welcome to England my louing friends of FraÌ„ce And welcome Summerset and Oxford too Onâ—e more haue we spread our sailes abroad And though our tackling be almost consumde And Warwike as our maine mast ouerthrowne Yet waâ—like Lords raise you that sturdie post That beares the sâ—iles to bring vs vnto rest And Neâ— and I as willing Pâ—lots should For once with carefull mindes guide on the sterne To beare vs through that dangerous gulfe That heretofore hath swallowed vp our friends Prince And if there be as God forbid there should Amongst vs a timorous or fearefull man Let him depart before the battels ioine â—east he in time of need intise another And so withdraw the souldiers harts from vs. I will not stand aloofe and bid you fight But with my sword presse in the thickest thronges And single Edward from his strongest guard And hand to hand enforce him for to yeeld Or leaue my bodie as witnesse of my thoughts Oxf. Women and children of so high resolue And Warriors faint why t were perpetuall Shame Oh braue yong Prince thy Noble grandfather doth liue againe in thee Long maiest thou liue to beare his image And to renew his glories Sum. And he that turnes and flies when such do fight Let him to bed and like the Owle by daie Be hist and wondered at if he arise Enter a Messenger Mes My Lords Duke Edward with a mighty power Is maâ—ching hitherwards to fight with you Oxf. I thought it was his pollicie to take vs vnprouided But here will we stand and fight it to the death Enter king Edward Cla. Glo. Hast and Souldiers Edw. See brothers yonder stands the thornie wood Which by Gods assistance and your prowesse Shall with our swords yer night be cleane cut downe Queen Lords Knights gentlemen what I should say My teares gainesaie for as you see I drinke The water of mine eies Then no more But this Henry your king is prisoner In the tower his land and all our friends Are quite distrest and yonder standes The Wolfe that makes all this Then on Gods name Lords togither cry saint George All Saint George for Lancaster Alarmes to the battell Yorke flies then the chambers be discharged Then enter the king Cla Glo. the rest make a great shout and crie for Yorke for Yorke and then the Queene is taken the prince Oxf. Sum. and then sound and enter all againe Edw. Lo here a period of tumultuous broiles Awaie with Oxford to Hames castell straight For Summerset off with his guiltie head Awaie I wiâ—l not heare them speake Oxf. For my part I le not trouble thee with words Exit Oxford Sum. Not I but stoope with patience to my death Exit Sum. Edw. Now Edward what satisfaction canst thou make â—or stirring vp my subiects to rebellion Prin. Speake like a subiect proud ambitious Yorke Suppose that I am now my fathers mouth Resigne thy chaire and where I stand kneele thou Whilst I propose the selfesame words to thee Which traytor thou woudst haue me answere to Queen Oh that thy father had bin so resoluâ—d Glo. That you might still haue kept your Peticote and nere haue slolne the Brâ—â—â—h from Lancaster Prince Let Aesop fable in a winters night His câ—â—â—â—sh Riddles sorts not with this place Glo. By heauen brat I le plague you for that word Queen I thou wast borne to be a plague to men Glo. For Gods sake take a waie this captiue scold Prin Nay take away this skolding Crooktbacke rather Edw. Peace wilfull boy or I will tame your tongue Cla. Vntuterd lad thou art too malepert Prin. I know my dutie you are all vndutifull Lasciuious Edward and thou periurd George And thou mishapen Dicke I tell you all I am your better traytors as you be Edw. Take that the litnes of this railer heere Queen Oh kill me too Glo Marrie and shall Edw. Hold Richard hold for we haue doone too much alreadie Glo Why should she liue to fill the world with words Edw. What doth she swound make meanes for Her recouerie Glo Clarence excuse me to the king my brother I must to London on a serious matter Ere you come there you shall heare more newes Cla. About what prethe tell me Glo. The Towerman the Tower I le root them out Exit Gloster Queen Ah Ned speake to thy mother boy ah Thou canst not speake Traytors Tyrants bloudie Homicides They that stabd Caesar shed no bloud at all For he was a man this in respect a childe And men nere spend then furie on a child What 's worse then tyrant that I maie name You haue no children Deuils if you had The thought of them would then haue stopt your rage But if you euer hope to haue a sonne Looke in his youth to haue him so cut off As Traitors you haue doone this sweet young prinâ—e Edw. Awaie and beare her hence Queen Naie nere beare me hence dispatch Me heere heere sheath thy sword I le pardon thee my death Wilt thou not Then Clarence doe thou doe it Cla By Heauen I would not doe thee so much ease Queen Good Clarence
doe sweet Clarence kill me too Cla. Didst thou not heare me sweare I would not do it Queen I but thou vsest to forsweare thy selfe T was sinne before but now t is charitie Wheaâ—s the Diuels butcher hardfauored Richard Richard where art thou He is not heere Murder is his almes deed petitioners For bloud he nere put backe Edw. Awaie I saie and take her hence perforce Queen So come to you and yours as to this prince Ex. Edw. Clarence whither 's Gloster gone Cla Marrie my Lord to London and as I gesse to Make a bloudie supper in the Tower Edw. He is sudden if a thing come in his head Well discharge the common souldiers with paie And thankes and now let vs towards London To see our gentle Queene how shee doth fare For by this I hope shee hath a sonne for vs. Exeunt Omnes Enter Gloster to king Henry in the Tower Glo. Good day my Lord. What at your booke so hard Hen. I my good Lord. Lord I should saie rather T is sinne to flatter good was little better Good Gloster and good Diuell were all alike What scene of Death hath Rosius now to act Glo. Suspition alwaies haunts a guiltie mind Hen. The birde once limde doth feare the fatall bush And I the haplesse maile to one poore birde Haue now the fatall obiect in mine eie Where my poore young was limde was caught kild Glo. Why what a foole was that of Creeâ—e That taught his sonne the office Of a birde and yet for all that the poore Fowle was drownde Hen. I Dedalus my poore sonne Icarus Thy father Minos that denide our course Thy brother Edward the sunne that â—earde his wings And thou the enuioâ—s gulfe that swallowed him Oh better can my brest abide thy daggers point Then can mine cares that tragike historie Glo. Why dost thou thinke I am an executioner Hen. A persecutor I am sure thou art And if murdering innocents be executions Then I know thou art an executioner Glo. Thy sonne I kild for his presumption Hen. Hadst thou bin kild when first thou didst presume Thou hadst not liude to kill a sonne of mine And thus I prophesie of theo That manie a Widdow for her husbands death And many an infants water standing eie Widowes for their husbands children for their fathers Shall curse the time that euer thou wert borne The owle sâ—â—ikt at thy birth an euill signe The night Crow cride aboding lucklesse tune Dogs howld and hideous tempests shooke down trees The Rauen rookt her on the Chimnies top And chattering Piâ—s in dismall discord sung Thy mother felt more then a mothers paine And yet brought â—orth lesse then a mothers hope To wit an vndigest created lumpe Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast borne Thus haue we swept suspition from our seat And made our footstoole of securitie Come hither Besse and let me kisse my boie Young Ned for thee thine Vncles and my selfe Haue in our armors watcht the Winters night Marcht all a foote in summers skalding heat That thou mightst â—epossesse the crowne in peace And of out labours thou shalt reape the gaine Glo. I le blast his haruest and your head were laid For yet I am not lookt on in the world This shoulder was ordaind so thicke to heaue And heaue it shall some waight or breake my backe Worke thou the waie and thou shalt execute Edward Clarence and Gloster loue my louelie Queene And kisse your princely nephew brothers both Cla. The dutie that I owe vnto your Maiestie I seale vpon the rosiate lips of this sweet babe Queen Thankes noble Clarence worthie brother thankes Gloster And that I loue the fruit from whence thou Sprangst witnesse the louing kisse I giue the child To saie the truth so Iudas kist his maister And so he cride all haile and meant all haâ—â—e Edward Nowe am I seated as my soule delights Hauing my countries peace and brothers loues Cla. What will your grace haue done with Margaret Ranard her father to the king of France Hath pawnd the Cyssels and Ierusalem And hither haue they sent it for her ransome Edw. Awaie with her and waâ—te hir hence to France And now what rests but that we spend the time With stately Triumphs and mirthfull comickâ— shewes Such as befits the pleasures of the Court. Sound drums and Trumpets farewell to sower annoy For heere I hope begins our lasting ioie Exeunt Omnes FINIS