The true Tragedie of Richard Duke of Yorke and the death of good King Henrie the Sixt with the whole contention betweene the two Houses Lancaster and Yorke as it was sundrie times acted by the Right Honourable the Earle of Pembrooke his seruants Printed at London by P. S. for Thomas Millington and are to be sold at his shoppe vnder Saint Peters Church in Cornival 1595. The true Tragedie of Richard Duke of Yorke and the good King Henry the Sixt. Enter Richard Duke of Yorke The Earle of Warwicke The Duke of Norffolke Marquis Montague Edward Earle of March Crookeback Richard and the yong Earle of Rutland with Drumme and Souldiers with white Roses in their hats Warwike I Wonder how the king escapt our hands Yorke Whilst we pursude the horsemen of the North He slilie stole awaie and left his men Whereat the great Lord of Northumland Whose warlike eares could neuer brooke retrait Chargde our maine battels front and therewith him Lord Stafford and Lord Clifford all abrâ—st 〈…〉 Brake in and were by the hands oâ— common Souldiers slain Edw. Lord Staffords father Duke of Buckhingham Is either slaine or wounded dangerouslie I cleft his Beuer with a downe right blow Father that this is true behold his bloud Mont And brother heere 's the Earle of Wiltshires Bloud whom I encountred as the battailes ioâ—â—d Rich. Speake thou for me and tell them what I did York What is your grace dead my L of Summerset Norf. Such hope haue all the line of Iohn of Gaâ—â—â— Rich. Thus doe I hope to shape king Henries head War And so do I victoriâ—us prince of Yorke Before I see thee seated in that throne Which now the house of Lancaster vsurpes I vow by heauens these eies shal neuer close This is the pallace of that fearefull king And that the regall chaire Possesse it Yorke For this is thine and not king Henries heires York Assist me then sweet Warwike and I wil For hither are we broken in by force Norf. Wee le all assist thee and he that flies shall die York Thanks gentle Norffolke Staie by me my Lords and souldiers staie you heere and lodge this night War And when the king comes offer him no Violence vnlesse he seek to put vs out by force Rich Armde as we be le ts staie within this house War The bloudie parlement shall this be calde Vnlâ—â—â—e Plantagenet Duke of Yorke be king And bashfull Henrie be deposde whose cowardise Hath made vs by words to our enemies York Then leaue me not my Lords for now I meane To take possession of my right War Neither the king nor him that loues him best The proudest burd that holds vp Lancaster Dares stirre a wing if Warwike shake his bels I le plant Plantagenet and root him out who dares Resolue thee Richard Claime the English crowne Enter king Henrie the sixt with the Duke of Excester The Earle of Northumberland the Earle of Westmerland and Clifford the Earle of Cumberland withred Roses in their hats King Looke Lordings where the sturdy rebel sits Euen in the chaire of state belike he meanes Backt by the power of Warwike that false peere To aspire vnto the crowne and raigne as king Earle of Northumberland he slew thy father And thine Clifford and you both haue vow'd reuenge On him his sonnes his fauorites and his friends Northu And if I be not heauens be reuengd on me Clif. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel West What shall we suffer this le ts pull him downe My hart for anger breakes I cannot speake King Be patient gentle Earle of Westmerland Clif. Patience is for pultrouns such as he He durst not sit there had your father liu'd My gratious Lord here in the Parlement Let vs assaile the familie of Yorke North. Well hast thou spoken cosen be it so King O know you not the Cittie fauours them And they haue troopes of soldiers at their becke Exet. But when the D. is slaine thei le quicklie slie King Far be it from the thoughtes of Henries hart To make a shambles of the parlement house Cosâ—â— of Exeter words frownes and threats Shall be the warres that Henrie meanes to vse Thou facâ—tious duke of Yorke descend my throne I am thy soueraigne York Thou art deceiu'd I am thine Exet. For shame come downe he made thee D. of York York T was mine inheritance as the kingdome is Exet. Thy father was a traytor to the crowne War Exeter thou art a traitor to the crowne In following this vsurping Henry Clif. Whom should he follow but his naturall king War Tâ—ue Clif and that is Richard Duke of Yorke King And shall I stande while thou sittest in my throne York Content thy selfe it must and shall be so War Be Duke of Lancaster let him be king West Why he is both king Duke of Lancaster And that the Earle of Westmerland shall mainetaine War And Warwike shall disproue it You forget That we are those that chaste you from the field And slew your father and with colours spred Marcht through the Cittie to the pallas gates Nor. No Warwike I remember it to my griefe And by his soule thou and thy house shall rew it West Plantagenet of thee and of thy sonnes Thy kinsmen and thy friendes I le haue more liues Then drops of bloud were in my fathers vaines Clif. Vrge it no more least in reuenge thereof I send thee Warwike such a messenger As shall reueng his death before I stirre War Poore Clifford how I skorn thy worthles threats York Wil ye we shew our title to the crowne Or else our swords shall plead it in the field King What title haste thou traitor to the Crowne Thy father was as thou art Duke of Yorke Thy grandfather Roger Mortâ—mer earle of March I am the sonne of Henrie the Fift who tamde the French And made the Dolphin stoope and seazd vpon their Townes and prouinces War Talke not of France since thou hast lost it all King â—he Lord protector lost it and not I When I was crownd I was but nine months old Rich. You are olde enough now and yet me thinkes you lose Father teare the Crowne from the Vsurpers head Edw. Do so sweet father set it on your head Mont. Good brother as thou lou'st honorst armes Le ts fight it out and not stand cauilling thus Rich. Sound drums and trumpets the king will sly York Peace sonnes Nâ—rthum Peace thou and giue king Henry leaue to speake King Ah Plantagenet why seekest thou to depose me Are we not both both Plantagenets by birth And from two brothers line allie discent Suppose by right and equitie thou be king Thinkst thou that I will leaue my kinglie seate Whereâ—n my father and my grandsire sat No first shall warre vnpeople this my realme I and our colours often borne in France And now in England to our harts great sorrow Shall be my winding sheete why saint you Lords My titles better farre than his
War Proue it Henrie and thou shalt be king King Why Henrie the fourth by conquest got the Crowne York T' was by rebellion gainst his soueraigne King I know not what to saie my titles weake Tell me maie not a king adopt an heire War What then King Then am I lawfull king For Richard The second in the view of maine Lords Resignde the Crowne to Henrie the fourth Whose heire my Father was and I am his York I tell thee he rose against him being his Soueraigne made him to resigne the crown perforce War Suppose my Lord he did it vnconstrainde Thinke you that were preiudiciall to the Crowne Exet. No for he could not so resigne the Crowne But that the next heire must succeed and raigne King Art thou against vs Duke of Exceter Exet. His is the right and therefore pardon me King All will reuolt from me and turne to him Northum Plantagenet for all the claime thou laist Thinke not king Henry shall be thus deposde War Deposde he shall be in despight of thee North. Tush Warwike Thou art deceiued t is not thy Southerne powers of Essex Suffolke Norffolke and of Kent that makes thee thus presumptuous and proud Can set the Duke vp in despight of me Cliff King Henrie be thy title right or wrong Lord Clifford vowes to fight in thy defence Maie that ground gape and swallow me aliue Where I do kneele to him that slew my father King O Clifford how thy words reâ—iue my soule York Henry of Lancaster resigne thy crowne What mutter you or what conspire you Lords War Doe right vnto this princelie Duke of Yorke Or I will fill the house with armed men Enter Souldiers And ouer the chaire of state where now he sits Wright vp his title with thy vsurping bloud King O Warwike heare me speake Let me but raigne in quiet whilst I liue York Confirme the crowne to me and to mine heires And thou shalt raigne in quiet whilst thou hu'st King Conuey the souldiers hence and then I will War Captaine conduct them into Tâ—â—hill fieldes Clif. What wrong is this vnto the Prince your son War What good is this for England and himselfe Northum Base fearefull and despairing Henry Clif. How hast thou wronged both thy selfe and vs West I cannot staie to heare these Articles Exit Clif. Nor I Come cosen le ts go tell the Queene Northum Be thou a praie vnto the house of Yorke And die in bands for this vnkingly deed Exit Clif. In dreadfull warre maist thou be ouercome Or liue in peace abandon'd and despisde Exit Exet. They seeke reuenge and therefore will not yeeld my Lord. King Ah Exeter War Why should you sigh my Lord King Not for my selfe Lord Warwike but my soone Whom I vnnaturallie shall disinherit But be it as it maie I heere intaile the Crowne To thee and to thine heires conditionallie That here thou take thine oath to cease these ciuill Broiles and whilst I liue to honour me as thy king and Soueraigne York That oath I willinglie take and will performe War Long liue king Henry Plantagenet embrace him King And long liue thou and all thy forward sonnes York Now Yorke and Lancaster are reconcilde Exet. Accuist be he that seekes to make them soes Sound Irumpets York My Lord I le take my leaue for I le to Wakefield To my castell Exit Yorke and his sonnes War And I le keepe London with my souldiers Exit Norf And I le to Norffolke with my followers Exit Mont. And I to the sea from whence I came Exit Enter the Queene and the Prince Exet. My Lord here comes the Queen I le steale away King And so will I. Queene Naie staie or else I follow thee King Be patient gentle Queene and then I le staie Quee. What patience can there ah timerous man Thou hast vndoone thy selfe thy sonne and me And giuen our rights vnto the house of Yorke Art thou a king and wilt be â—orst to yeeld Had I beene there the souldiers should haue tost Me on their launces points before I would haue Granted to their wils The Duke is made Protector of the land Sterne Fawconbridge Commands the narrow seas And thinkst thou then To sleepe secure I heere diuorce me Henry From thy bed vntâ—ll that Act of Parlement Be recalde wherein thou yeeldest to the house of Yorke The Northen Lords that haue forsworne thy colours Will follow mine if once they see them spred And spread they shall vnto thy deepe disgrace Come sonne le ts awaie and leaue him heere alone King Staie gentle Margaret and here me speake Queene Thou hast spoke too much alreadie therefore be still King Gentle sonne Edwarde wilt thou staie with me Quee I to be murdred by his enemies Exit Prin. When I returne with victorie from the field I le see your Grace till then I le follow her Exit King Poore Queene her loue to me and to the prince Her sonne Makes hir in 〈…〉 thus forget hir selfe Reuenged maie shâ—e be on that accursed Duke Come cosen of Exeter staie thou here For Clifford and those Northern Lords be gone I feare towards Wakefield to disturbe the Duke Enter Edward and Richard and Montague Edw. Brother and cosen Montague giue mee leaue to speake Rich. Nay I can better plaie the Orator Mont. But I haue reasons strong and forceable Enter the Duke of Yorke York Howe nowe sonnes what at a iarre amongst your selues Rich. No father but a sweete contention about that which concernes your selfe and vs The crowne of England father York The crowne boy why Henries yet aliue And I haue sworne that he shall raigne in quiet till His death Edw. But I would breake an hundred othes to raigne one yeare Rich. And if it please your grace to giue me leaue I le shew your grace the waie to saue your oath And dispossesse king Henrie from the crowne Yorke I prethe Dicke let me heare thy deuise Rich. Then thus my Lord. An oath is of no moment Being not sworne before a lawfull magistrate Henry is none but doth vsurpe your right And yet your grace stands bound to him by oath Then noble father resolue your selfe And once more claime the crowne Yorke I saist thou so boie why then it shall be so I am resolude to win the crowne or die Edward thou shalt to Edmund Brooke Lord Cobham With vvhom the Kentishmen vvill vvillinglie rise Thou cosen Montague shalt to Norffolke straight And bid the Duke to muster vppe his souldiers And come to me to Wakefield presentlie And Richard thou to London strait shalt post And bid Richard Neuill Earle of Warwike To leaue the cittie and with his men of warre To meete me at Saint Albons ten daies hence My selfe heere in Sandall castell will prouide Both men and monie to furder our attempts Now what newes Enter a Messenger Mes My Lord the Queene with thirtie thousand men Accompanied with the Earles of Cumberland Nâ—rthumberland and Westmerland and others of the House
kingdome saie For eâ—ther that is thine or else thou wert not his Enter the Earle of Warwike Montague with drum ancient and souldiers War How now faire Lords what sare what newes abroad Rich. Ah Warwike should we report the balefull Nâ—â—â—◠〈◊〉 at each words deliuerance stab poinyardes In our flesh till all were told the words would adde More 〈◊〉 then the wounds Ah valiant Lord the Duke of Yorke is slaine Edw. Ah Warwike Warwike that Plantagenet Which held thee deere I euen an his soules redemption Is by the â—â—â—â—ne L. Clifford done to death War Ten daiâ—s a go I drownd those newes in teares And now to adde more measure to your woes I come to tell you things since then befalne After the bloudie fraie at Wakefield fought Where your braue father breath'd his latest gaspe Tidings as swiflie as the post could runne Was brought me of your losse and his departure I then in London keeper of the King Mustred my souldâ—ers gathered flockes of friends And verie vvell appointed as I thought Marcht to saint Albons to entercept the Queene Bearing the King in my behalfe along For by my scoutes I was aduertised That she was comming with a full intent To dash your late decree in parliament Touching king Henries heires and your succession Short tale to make we at Saint Albons met Our battel 's ioinde and both sides fiercelie fought But whether t was the coldnesse of the king He lookt full gentlie on his warlike Queene That robde my souldiers of their heated spleene Or whether t was report of his successe Or more then common feare of Cliffords rigor Who thunders to his captaines bloud and death I cannot tell But to conclude with truth Their weapons like to lightnings went and came Our souldiers like the might Owles lasie flight Or like an idle thresher with a â—laile Fel gentlie downe as if they smote their friends I cheerd them vp with iustice of the cause With promise of hie paie and great rewardes But all in vaine they had no harts to fight Nor we in them no hope to win the daie So that We fled The king vnto the Queene Lord George your brother Norffolke and my selfe In hast post hast are come to ioine with you For in the marches here we heard you were Making another head to fight againe Edw. Thankes gentle Warwike How farre hence is the Duke with his power And when came George from Burgundie to England War Some fiue miles off the Duke is with his power But as for your brother he was latelie sent From your kind Aunt Duches of Burgundie With aide of souldiers gainst this needfull warre Rich. T was ods belike when valiant Warwike fled Oft haue I heard thy praises in pursute But nere till now thy scandall of retire War Nor now my scandall Richard dost thou heare For thou shalt know that thâ—s right hand of mine Can plucke the Diadem from â—aint Henries head And wring the awefull scepter from his fist Were he as famous and as bold in warre As he is famde for mildnesse peace and praier Rich. I know it well Lord Warwike blame me not T was loue I bare thy glories made me speake But in this troublous time what 's to be done Shall we gothrow away our coates of steele And clad our bodies in blacke mourning gownes Numbring our Auemaries with our beades Or shall we on the helmets of our foes Tell our deuotion with reuengefull armes If for the last saie I and to it Lords War Why therefore Warwike came to find â— you out And therefore comes my brother Montague Attend me Lords the proud insulting Queene With Clifford and the haught Northumberland And of their feather manie mo proud birdes Haue wrought thâ— easie melting king like waxe He sware consent to your succession His oath inrolled in the Parliament But now to London all the crew are gone To frustrate his oath or what besides May make against the house of Lancaster Thâ—iâ— power I gesse them fifty thousand strong Now if the helpe of Norffolke and my selfe Can but amount to 48. thousand With all the friendes that thou braue earle of March Among the louing Welshmen canst procure Why via To London will we march amaine And once againe beâ—â—â—ide our foming steedes And once againe crie charge vpon the foe But neuer once againe turne backe and flâ—e Rich. I now me thinkes I heare great Warwike speake Nere maie he liue to see a sunshine daie That cries râ—tire when Warwike bids him stay Edw. Lord Warwike on thy shoulder will I leane And when thou faints must Edward fall Which perill heauen forefend War No longer Earle of March but Duke of Yorke The next degree is Englands royall king And king of England and shalt thou be proclaimde In euery burrough as we passe along And he that casts not vp his cap for ioie Shall for the offence make forfeit of his head King Edward valiant Richard Montague Stay we no longer dreaming of renowne But forward to effect these resolutions Enâ—er a Messenger Mes The Duke of Norffolke sends you word by me The Queene is comming with a puissant power And craues your companie for speedie councell War Why then it sorts braue Lordes Le ts march away Exeunt Omnes Enter the King and Queene Prince Edward and the Northerne Earles with drum and Souldiers Quee. Welcome my Lord to this braue town of York Yonder 's the head of that ambitious enemie That sought to be impaled with your crowne Doth not the obiect please your eie my Lord King Euen as the rockes please them that feare their wracke Withhold reuenge deare God t is not my fault Nor wittinglie haue I infringde my vow Clif My gratious Lord this too much lenitie And harmefull pittie must be laid aside To whom do Lyons cast their gentle lookes Not to the beast that would vsurpe his den Whose hand is that the sauage Beare doth licke Not his that spoiles his young before his face Whose â—â—apâ—s the lurking serpentes mortall sting Not he that sets his foot vpon her backe The smallest worme will turne being troden on And Doues will pecke in rescue of their broode Ambitious Yorke did leuell at thy Crowne Thou smiling while he knit his angrie browes He but a Duke would haue his sonne a king And raise his issue like a louing sire Thou being a king blest with a goodlie sonne Didst giue consent to disinherit him Which argude thee a most vnnaturall father Vnreasonable creatures feed their yong And though mans face be fearefull to their eies Yet in protect on of their tender ones Who hath not seene them euen with those same wings Which they haue sometime vsde in fearefull flight Make warre with him that climes vnto their nest Offring their owne liues in their yongs defence For shame my Lord make them your president Were it not pittie that this goodlie boy should lose his birth right through his fathers fault And long hereafter saie vnto his child
What my great grandfather and grandfire got My carelesse father fondlie gaue awaie Looke on the boy and let his manlie face Which promiseth successefull fortune to vs all Steele thy melting thoughtes To keepe thine owne and leaue thine owne with him King Full wel hath Clifford plaid the Orator Inferring arguments of mighty force But tell me didst thou neuer yet heare tell That things euill got had euer bad successe And happie euer was it for that sonne Whose father for his hoording went to hell I leaue my sonne my vertuous deedes behind And would my father had left me no more For all the rest is held at such a rate As askes a thousand times more care to keepe Then maie the present profit counteruaile Ah cosen Yorke would thy best friendes did know How it doth greeue me that thy head stands there Quee. My Lord this harmefull pittie makes your followers faint You promisde knighthood to your princelie soâ—ne Vnsheath your sword and straight doe dub him knight Kneele downe Edward King Edward Plantagenet 〈…〉 knight And learne this lesson boy draw â—â—y sword in right Prince My gratâ—ous father by your kingly leaue I le draw it as apparant to the â—â—owne And in that 〈…〉 to the death Northum Why that is spoken like a toward prince Enter a Messenger Mes Royall commaunders be in readinesse For with a band of fiftie thousand men Comes Warwike backing of the Duke of Yorke And in the townes whereas they passe along Proclaimes him king and manie flies to him Prepare your battels for they be at hand Clif. I would your highnesse would depart the field The Queene hath best successe when you are absent Quee. Do good my Lord and leaue vs to our fortunes King Why that 's my fortune therefore I le stay still Clif. Be it with resolution then to fight Prince Good father cheere these noble Lords Vnsheath your sword sweet father crie Saint George Clif. Pitch we our battell heere for hence wee will not moue Enter the house of Yorke Edward Now peâ—â—uâ—â—e Henrie vvilt thou yeelde thy crovvne And kneele for mercie at thy soueraignes feete Queen Go rate thy minions proud insulting boy Becomes it thee to be thus malepert Before thy kâ—ng and lawfull soueraigne Edw. I am his king and he should bend his knee I was adopted heâ—â—e by his consent George Since when he hath broke his oath For as we heare you that are king Though he dâ—e weare the Crowne Haue causde hâ—m by new act of Parlement To blot our brother out and put his owne son in Clif. And reason George Who should succeede the father but the son Rich. Are you their butcher Clif. I Crookbacke here I stand to answere thee or any of your sort Rich. T was you that kild yong Rutland was it not Clif. Yes and old Yorke too and yet not satisfide Rich. For Gâ—ds sake Lords giue synald to the fight War What saiest thou Henry wilt thou yeelde thy crowne Queen What long tongde War dare you speake When you and I met at saint Albones last Your legs did better seruice than your hands War I then t was my turne to flee but now t is thine Clif. You said so much before and yet you fled War T was not your valour Clifford that droue mee thence Northum No nor your manhood Warwike that could make you staie Rich. Northumberland Northumberland wee holde Thee reuerentlie Breake off the paâ—â—â—e foâ— scarse I can refraine the execution of my big swolne Hart against that Clifford there that Cruell child-killer Clif Why I kild thy father calst thou him a child Rich. I like a villaine and a trecherous coward As thou didst kill our tâ—nder brother Rutland But ere sunne set I le make thee curse the dâ—ed King Haue doone with wordes great Lordes and Hear me speake Queen Defie them then or else hold close thy lips King I prethe giue no limits to my tongue I am a king and priuiledge to speake Clif. My Lord the wound that bred this meeting here Cannot be cru'd with words therefore be still Rich. Then executioner vnsheath thy sword By him that made vs all I am resolu'de That Cliffords manhood hangs vpon his tongue Edw. What saist thou Henry shall I hâ—ue my right or no A thousand men haue broke their fast to daie That nere shall dine vnlesse thou yeeld the crowne War If thou denie their blouds be on thy head For Yorke in iustice puts his armour on Prin. If all be right that Warwike saies is right There is no wrong but all things must be right Rich. Whosoeuer got thee there thy mother stands For well I wot thou hast thy mothers tongue Queen But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam But like a soule mishapen stygmaticke Markt by the destinies to be auoided As venome Todes or Lizards fainting lookes Rich. Iron of Naples hid with English gilt Thy father beares the tâ—tle of a king As if a channell should be calde the Sea Shames thou not knowing from whence thou art deRiu'de to parlie thus with Englands lawfull heires Edw. A wispe of straw were worth a thousand crowns To make that shamelesse câ—llet know her selfe Thy husbands father reueld in the hart of France And tam'de the French and made the Doiphin stoope And had he macht according to his state He might haue kept that glorie till this daie But when he tooke a begger to his bed And gracst thy poore sire with his bridall daie Then that sun-shine bred a showre for him Which washt his fathers fortunes out of France And heapt seditions on his crowne at home For what hath mou'd these tumults but thy pride Hadst thou beene meeke our title yet had slept And we in pittie of the gentle king Had slipt our claime vntill an other age George But when we saw our summer brought the gaine And that the haruest brought vs no increase We set the axe to thy vsurping root And though the edge haue something hit our selues Yet know thou we will neuer cease to strike Till we haue hewne thee downe Or bath'd thy growing with our heated blouds Edw. And in this resolution I defie thee Not willing anie longer conference Since thou deniest the gentle king to speake Sound trumpets let our bloudie colours waue And either victorie or else a graue Quee. Staie Edward staie Edw. Hence wrangling woman I le no longer staie Thy words will cost ten thousand liues to daie Exeunt Omnes Alarmes Enter Warwike War Sore spent with toile as runners with the race I laie me downe a little while to breath For strokes receiude and manie blowes repaide Hath robd my strong knit sinnews of their strength And force perforce needes must I rest my selfe Enter Edward Edw. Smile gentle heauens or strike vngentle death That we maie die vnlesse we gaine the daie What fatall starre malignant frownes from heauen Vpon the harmelesse line of Yorkes tâ—ue house Enter George George Come brother come le ts to the field
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
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
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