THE MISERY OF CIVIL-WAR A TRAGEDY As it is Acted at the DUKE's Theatre By His Royal Highnesses Servants Written by Mr. CROWN LONDON Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes in Russel-Street in Covent-Garden 1680. PROLOGUE REligious Broyles to such a height are grown All the sweet sound of Poetry they drown Were Orpheus here his Lute might charm our Beasts Our Mastiffs not our Robble or our Priests Good Heaven Sirs are there no other ways To damn the Pope but damning all our Plays To our Religion 't is no Praise at all That if our Wit must stand our Faith must fall All parties in a Play-House may agree The Stage is priviledg'd from Piety 'T is pleasant Sirs to see you fight and brawl About Religion but have none at all Most fiercely for the Road to Heav'n contend But never care to reach the Journeys end Though you lose Heaven you will keep the Way The Pope sha'n't have you though the Devil may These things such business for the Criticks find They 're not at leasure Poetry to mind Well for the Poet 't is they 're so employ'd Else this poor Work of his wou'd be destroy'd For by his feeble Skill 't is built alone The Divine Shakespear did not lay one Stone Besides this Tragedy a Rod will prove To whip us for a Fault we too much Love And have for ages liv'd call'd Civil Strife The English Nation like a Russian Wife Is to a gentle Husband always curst And loves him best who uses her the worst This Poet though perhaps in Colours faint Those scurvy Joys does in all Postures Paint Fools take in pelting out each others Brains A joy for which this Nation oft takes pains If any like the Ills he shews to day Let them be damn'd and let them damn the Play The Persons Represented in the Tragedy KIng Henry the Sixth Prince Edward King Henry's Son By Mr. Joseph Williams Richard Plantagenet Duke of York By Mr. David Williams Edward eldest Son of Richard Plantagenet and after his Fathers death King of England By Mr. Smith George Duke of Clarence second Son of the Duke of York By Mr. Bowman Richard the third Son called Crook-back By Mr. Gillow Rutland a Child the youngest Son  The Great Earl of Warwick By Mr. Batterton Old Lord Clifford By Mr. Pearcival Young Clifford his Son By Mr. Wiltshire Queen Margaret Wife of King Henry Mrs. Leigh Lady Grey the Widow of Sir John Grey belov'd and at length married by King Edward the fourth By Mrs. Batterton Lady Elianor Butler a young Lady of great quality that was one of King Edward's Mistresses By Mrs. Currer SCENE ENGLAND THE MISERIES OF Civil-War ACT. I. SCENE I. A Noise of Fighting a Shout for Victory Enter Cade and his Rabble Cade FLing all my dead Subjects into the Thames Now say what place is this Butch 'T is London-Stone Cade Then am I Mortimer Lord of this City And here I sitting upon London-Stone Declare this is the first day of our Reign So I command the Conduits all Piss Claret And I proclaim it Treason now for any man To call me other than Lord Mortimer Enter a Souldier running Sould. Jack Cade Jack Jack Cade Knock down that sawcy Fellow A Butcher kill 's him Butch If he has wit he 'll never call thy Honour Jack Cade again Cade I think he has fair warning Enter a Cobler with a Scrivener Cob. My Lord my Lord Cade Well said a mannerly Fellow Cob. I have catch'd a Scrivener here setting Boyes Copies Cade Oh! there 's a Villain a corrupter of Youth Cob. He has a Book in 's pocket with red Letters in 't Cade Then he 's a Conjurer Cob. He can write Bills and Bonds and Obligations to bind People to undo themselves and pay Money whether they Can or no such a Rogue is enough to undo a Nation Cade I 'm sorry for it for on my honour he 's a proper fellow He shall not dye unless I find him Guilty Cob. He shall die Guilty or not Guilty I brought him to be Hang'd and I will not lose my labour I love hanging there 's Never any hanging but I leave my Stall to go see it Hanging-day is my holy-day and I will keep Coblers holy-day Cade We 'll hang him but we 'll examine him first Cob. No hang him first for now no man will confess Till after he 's hang'd Cade I will examine him Sirrah what 's thy Name Scriv. Emanuel Cob. Emanuel That 's a strange Name Friend 't will go very hard with you Cade Let me alone Friend dost thou write thy Name Or use a mark like a plain honest man Scriv. Sir I thank Heaven I have been so well bred That I can write my name All. He has confest He 's a stranger and a Villain hang him Cade Hang him with his Pen and Ink about his Neck Enter others with the Lord Say Prisoner My Lord my Lord a prize an 't like thy Honour Here 's the Lord Say who sold the Townes in France And made us pay one and twenty Fifteens And a shilling to the pound last Subsidy Cade I will behead him one and twenty times Come scurvy Lord what canst thou say To our Mightiness for giving up our Towns To Monsieur Basimecu the Dolphin of France Be it known unto thee Traytor by these presents Even by the presence of my self Lord Mortimer That I will sweep the world clean of such filth Thou Trayterously hast built a Grammar-School To debauch all the youth and whereas formerly Our Grandsiers us'd no Book but Score and Tally Thou hast caus'd wicked Printing to be us'd And contrary to the King his Crown and Dignity Hast built a Paper-Mill It will be prov'd That thou hast Servants talk of Nouns and Verbs And such vile Words no Christian er'e can here Thou hast appointed Justices of Peace To call poor men before 'em about matters They cou'd not answer yes and thou hast hang'd 'em Because they cou'd not read Cob. There was a Villain Cade Thou rid'st upon a foot-cloth dost thou not Say Well what of that Cade Why is it not a shame Thy Horse shou'd weare a Cloak when honest men Go in their Hose and Doublets Say Well I find You men of Kent All. What of us men of Kent Say That Kent is bona terra mala gens Cade Bold Traytor he speaks Latin in my presence Go hang him hang him Say Hear me Country-men Cade Hear Latin Villain hang him All. Hang him hang him They drag him away Butch We 'll hang up every man that can speak-Latin Cade Well counsel'd Butcher counsel'd like a Butcher We will and more for they are but few Tay. We 'll hang up any man that can speak French For I 'm a Taylour and there is no man That can speak French will let me work a stitch for ' em Cob. We 'll hang up all the Lords and Gentlemen Spare none but such as go in clouted shoes For I 'm a Cobler
much already Why wou'd you cruelly kill the poor Boy I struck him in my Choler but I meant him No farther harm Ric. Who cou'd forbear besides Shou'd we have let him live to cut our Throats Geo. What wou'd have grown up with him but Rebelion Why shou'd a Sprig grow up to be a Tree That wou'd breed nothing else but Caterpillars Ed. His Mother Swoon's use means for her recovery Qu. Oh my dear Son is kill'd my Son is kill'd Speak to thy Mother Son can'st thou not speak Oh murd'rers Butchers Traytors Cannibals Ric. Hence with this rayling Woman Qu. Ay hence with me Out of the world I prithee Richard kill me Murder is all the Almes thou givest the miserable Bestow thy bloudy Charity upon me Have pity on a Queen that begs it of thee Ric. We pity not those that are born to beggery If thou dost beg 't is but thy native poverty Ed. Insult not o're a miserable Woman Madam I pray go hence you shall be us'd With all respect Qu. All the respect of Murderers Is death Oh! bloudy George do thou bestow it Geo. I swear I will not do thee so much kindness Qu. Ay but thou usest to for swear thy self Ed. Madam pray go Qu. Oh! Edward Richard George Be it to you and yours as to this Prince For 't were a shame the Sons of Executioners Shou'd e're be Kings Ric. Away with her away with her The Guard lead out the Qu. and carry out the Pr. Now I will to the Tower to dispatch Henry Aside Till he be kill'd our work is done by halves Ex. Geo. Sir If you please I 'll visit my young Bride Ex. Ed. I have a Beautious Bride to visit too Ex. Scene a Room in the Tower Henry Sleeping Enter the Ghost of Richard the Second Gh. Wake Henry wake to weep then sleep for ever Thy Kingdom 's gone thy only son is kill'd A Dagger is preparing for thy Bosom And when thy bloud is shed my bloud will sleep I 'm that King Richard whom thy Grandfather Depos'd and murder'd and both long and loud My bloud for vengeance call'd and vengeance had First in the wounded Conscience of thy Grandfather Whom all the Royal Oyntment cou'd not heal He liv'd in trouble and he dy'd with horror And next on the short life of thy great Father Who liv'd no longer than to beget thee Who hast lost all the glories of thy Father And dost inherit nothing but the curses Due to thy Grand-father nor doe's the storm Of vengeance only fall on the Usurpers But on the Souls and miserable Race Of all the Traytors and the Fools that Flatter'd Thy Grandfather's successful Villany Who did not know Kings cannot dye alone And now their names are rotting Children dying Their Houses burnt on Earth their Souls in Hell Grin at your Grandfathers you dying wretches Cover'd all o're with shame and dust and bloud For this Estate their Villany conveigh'd you Th' ascending dirty Vapours of the Earth Breed all the storms i th' Ayr. When e're Oh! England Thou hast a mind to see thy Cities fir'd Thy people slaughter'd and thy Country desolate Send-all the dirty Traytours in the Kingdom To climb the Royal Rights and Throne invade Then a high road for vast destruction's made The Ghost goes out and enters with soft Musick one clad in a white Robe Spir. Let not this frightful Vision pious Henry Disturb thy gentle Soul it is not rais'd To breed a storm now thou art near thy Haven Rather to calm the Tempest in thy mind By pointing to thee on what dismal Rock Thy Kingdom and thy life are cast away The bloudy usurpation of thy Grandfather The Crown of England is not made of Clay The Common people so can ne're be crumbled Into that dirt 't is not compos'd if it Nor made of Iron the Sword so cannot rust But of unmingled solid lasting Gold Of Antient Rights and 't is the gift of Heav'n Therefore to Heaven only can be forfeited Therefore 't is call'd Imperial and Sacred And therefore carefully rail'd in by Laws And torn will be his sacrilegious hand Who has no Right to it and yet dares reach it And dares presumptuously pretend a Right Because he stands upon the peoples heads Such was the bold Ambition of thy Grandfather And heav'n frowns upon his Sins not thee Then do not think thy self unkindly us'd Religious Henry that Heaven takes away What is not thine all that is truly thine Thou shalt not part with but for great advantages Thy Son is taken from thee here to live with thee Above for ever thou shalt lose thy life Only to exchange it for Eternity Lose humble quiet for exalted Joy A taste of which wafted in Heavenly Harmony Pure as this lower drossy air admits I bring thee down to raise thy Spirits high A SONG Sung by Spirits to King Henry as he lies asleep COme Heavenly Spirits comforts bring To the most miserable thing Can be on Earth a Ruin'd King As all the Joyes on Earth Vnite To make his prosp'rous Fortune bright So every woe to shade his Night He has but one poor Joy the Grave A thing that 's free to every Slave And that with ease he cannot have For Daggers Swords and Poyson lye To guard his Tomb and make him buy With pain the wretched ease to dye But comfort Prince thy death is near For Dead thou hast no more to fear A fallen Monarchs Hell is here To Fortune he can nothing owe For all that e're she did bestow He payes again in heavy woe They Vanish and Henry wakes Hen. What have I seen and heard Oh! come my murderers And set me forwards on my way to Heaven Whilst I 've such rich provisions for my journey Enter Richard and the Keeper Here comes my murderer less horrid to me In bringing Death than bringing to my sight The horrid Author of my sweet Son's death For so in dream it was reveal'd to me My bloudy Grandfather destroy'd King Richard And now a bloudy Richard destroys me Ric. Go leave us to our selves we must confer Hen. What bloudy Scene has Roscius now to Act Ric. Do you suspect me fear haunt's guilty minds The Thief thinks every bush an Officer Hen. The Bird that sees the Bush where once it self Was lim'd and it 's sweet young lim'd caught and kill'd Cannot but hover round it with misdoubt Ric. What an aspiring Fool was he of Creet VVho taught his Son the office of a Fowl And drown'd the Boy by teaching him to fly Hen. Indeed my Boy was Icarus thy Brother Edward the Sun that did dissolve his wings And thou the gulph that swallowed up his life But many a thousand wretched Father more And many an Orphans water-standing-eye And many a Widows Groan and old man's Sigh Shall rue the Hour that ever thou wast born When thou wast born nature by horrid signes Gave notice to the world of coming Mischief The Birds of night did shrieke and cry to tell
I have Bail Lord Clifford in whose name do you Arrest me Old Cl. In the Kings Name Pl. Then I 'll unfold my self Know hitherto I 've been like a dark Cloud Where scorching heat has been ingendring Thunder The grumbling and the rowling you have heard But now the deadly bolt shall light among you I am your King Hen. Ha! Pl. Yes I am Your King I 'm sprung out of the Royal house of Clarence Whom three usurpers of the house of Lancaster Successively have trodden under feet Whilst they have glittered in our Royal Glory Shone like false Diamonds in our royal Robes Q. Now Sir are we convinc'd we told you truth Pl. And my next Title is the only Claim Duke Henry for I 'll call him now no otherwise Duke Henry borrows from his bloody Grand Father Henry the Fourth I 've twenty thousand men But with this difference Henry's Troops were Villains Deposers of their lawful Sov'reign Richard Mine are defenders of their true King Richard I mean my self Hen. Was ever such Ambitious Frenzy as this Y. Cl. Did not we tell you this Ed. And we will tell you more obey your King I mean my Royal Father or our Swords Shall turn the Arrest of Treason on your selves Old Cl. Surely you think you are among your Beauties Amorous Edward there your Vigour lies Q. Let them admire thy boasts here thou art scorn'd Ed. 'T is said when the brave Duke of Suffolk liv'd Queen Margaret would not contemn a Lover I 'm young and love but yet I am not stricken So blind with beauty but I can discern Both the fair Kingdom and the fair Queen lye Sick of the impotence of a Weak King Qu. Ill manner'd insolence Rich. Why do you talk To this poor wretched Neapolitan She and her Husband are fit for each other He has no heart and she no heart for him Fortune loathed him as soon as e're she saw him Nor from his Cradle never wou'd endure him And her she never did think worth her care Qu. Why well said ugly Crook-back spoken like Thy hideous horrid self I will not do thee so much good to kill thee Thy Soul cannot be worse than where it is Hen. He bears about him what is more deform'd Than humane shape can be his wickedness Pl. I 've shewed my right and here are my three Sons To plead it with their Swords now I 'll produce My last and strongest Title to the Crown The sword of the victorious Earl of Warwick Call in the Earl of Warwick Enter VVarwick War I am here Pl. Inform the ignorant world who is King of England War Whom my sword pleases Hen. Thou against me Warwick What did'st thou never swear Allegiance to me War ' Cause I adored an idol once in ignorance Must I still do so now I see my error Know Duke of Lancaster for you are no more Henry your Grand Father murdered his King Richard the second not content with that He trampled on the rights of the next heirs Your Father warlick Henry I confess Had in desert what he did want in Title But merit makes no lawful claim to Crowns For if it did I wou'd be King of England But I will tell you to your face Duke Henry That you have neither Title nor Desert Qu. Most impudent of Traytours Old Cl. Most impudent of Traytours Y. Cl. Most impudent of Traytours War I 'll speak truth And value not the fury of you all Your Father Henry was a Wall of steel Through which there was no passing to the throne But you are only a soft silken Curtain Which with my hand or breath I 'll put aside And seat your self King Richard in the Throne For it is empty though the Duke be there The Duke is nothing or such poor thin soft stuff The Crown sinks down in him and is not seen Yo. Cl. What have these Traytours conquer'd us already They talk at this bold rare Thou Traytour Warwick Warwick no! when thou didst unking thy King Thou mad'st thy self a Groom by the same law Thou tramplest on thy King a sawcy Groom May set his dirty foot upon thy jaws And tell thee they were made both of one Clay War The duke of Lancaster's no King of mine Y. Cl. VVhence hast thou this from Lawyers and from Scriblers Say the King's Grand-father Murther'd his King And damn'd his Soul for it what 's that to thee Say our prosterity shou'd wrong each other VVhat must their Servants cudgel 'em to honesty Oh! But old stories censure the King's Title Are royal Robes made of such raggs as Pamphlets Yes when a beggar feign wou'd put 'em on One that wou'd beg the Kingdom from the people And such a beggar is Plantagenet Oh! but the lawyers like not the Kings Title VVhat shall the lawyers be the Kingdoms Oracles And judge their Kings who speak but as inspir'd By the Kings Image stampt upon his Gold Let the King give 'em store of golden Pictures And they will give him a substantial title And then the Noble-men must be the Bayliffs To execute the sentence of the Coyfe Damn thy pedantick Treason thou art as far From wit as honour and that 's far enough VVho stopps a River's head up drie's the stream Thou hast divided thy self from thy King The spring of honour so thou hast no honour But art a heap of dirty pesantry Fit only to manure a brave mans fortune A straying Beast with the Devil's mark upon thee Rebellion and I 'll send thee to thy owner Ed. What a fierce talker's this War I laugh at him All this loud noise and fury you have heard Is but the crackling of some burning thorns That hedge the Duke and they will soon be ashes Pl. No more Duke Henry will you yield my Crown Or shall we fall upon you Hen. Must it be so Let us not bloodily Butcher one another But fairly to the field and there in Battle Make an Appeal to Heaven Pl. With all my heart Y. Cl. Then royal Henry fixt on loyal Clifford Stand like a Cedar on a Mountain top Securely rooted and despise all storms Hen. My cause is sixt on Heav'n for it is just War Then sound to Armes All. To Armes to Armes to Armes Exit ACT. II. An Alarm Enter Warwick and Souldiers chasing others over the Stage Enter Plantagent and Old Clifford fighting Old Clifford falls P FArewell old valiant Clifford I shou'd now Be sorry for thee wer 't thou not my Enemy Ex. Old Cl. Be sorry for thy self thou art a Traytour And I for loyalty die honourably Enter Young Clifford Y. Cl. Shame and Confusion all is on the rout My men are fled or kill'd and I alone Stand like a lofty Mast shewing my head Above the Waves when all the Ship is sunk I cannot find my Father not my King Old Cl. Son Yo. Cl. I heard a voice resembling much My Fathers very weak and faint it seemed As he were far from me or near to death Old Cl. Son
As I wou'd do a Toad or a young Serpent Rut. Hear me but one word more dear brave Lord Clifford You have a Son for his sake pity me Lest as you kill me for my Father's faults Just Heaven shou'd destroy your Son for yours And he be miserably kill'd as I am Then Oh! for your Son's sake give me my life And for my Father's faults keep me in Prison And kill me whensoever I offend you Cl. Thou wilt be an offence to me in living Whilst any of thy cursed Fathers race Live upon Earth I live on Earth then dye Rut. Oh! shall I have no pity at your hands Cl. Such pity as my Rapiers point affords Wounds him Rut. May'st thou ne're get more same than by this deed Oh my poor Father Oh! my death will kill him Dyes Cl. Ho! take the body up and carry it after me I 'll make a present of it to his Father Exit Enter Plantagenet Pl. All 's lost my men by numbers are devour'd Or fly like Ships before the stormy wind My Sons have bravely fought but all in vain They only swim like Swans against the Tide And are born down by over-matching Waves And I am very faint and cannot flie But had I strength I 'm on all sides enclos'd The Sands are numbred that make up my life See! the bloody Clifford comes then here I fall Enter Clifford and Souldiers Cl. Ha! have I found thee proud Plantagenet What tumbled Phaethon from thy shining Chariot And made an Evening at thy highest Noon Oh Father from the joys above descend And share with me the pleasure of Revenge Or else by high revenge I 'll climb to thee Pl. Thou bloody raging Clifford do thy worst I 'd scorn to ask thee mercy hadst thou any But thou hast none then come with all thy Multitudes Cl. So Cowards sight when they can fly no farther So Pigeons peck the Falcon's piercing Talons So desperate Thieves breathe curses at the Officers Pl. Hast thou the impudence to charge a Prince With cowardize who made thee basely fly Call to thy memory S. Albans Battel Cl. I do then didst thou kill my brave old Father Pl. And now wou'd thee wert thou not back't with multitudes Cl. I will try that stand of and do not touch him Unless I fall then cut him all to pieces I will not lose revenge yet I will give him So much revenge to kill me if he can Pl. I thank thee for the kindness 't is a great one They Fight Plantagenet is disarm'd and thrown Cl. Now wilt thou yield that I have fairly conquer'd thee As Cl. is lifting up his arm to kill him Enter the Queen Q. Hold valiant Clifford hold I wou'd prolong The Traytors life to scorn him trample on him Are you the man that wou'd be King of England Are you the man that revell'd in the Parliament Sat in your Sovereign's Throne and did believe Your breath cou'd blow his Crown from off his head Where are your Mess o'Sons to back you now Your wanton Edward and your lusty George Your ugly valiant Dick that crookback Prodigy And with the rest where is your darling Rutland Pl. My heart misgives me where is he indeed Qu. Ask Clifford Pl. Oh! thou hast not butcher'd Clifford The innocent Boy Cl. On that young tender morsell My greedy vengeance staid a while it 's stomach Till it cou'd dine on thee and all thy Sons Qu. See! I have stain'd a Napkin in the blood That valiant Clifford with his Rapier's point Made issue from the bosome of thy darling And bring it thee to wipe away thy tears Pl. She-wolf of France or rather cruel Tygress For woman thou art none women are soft Gentle and pitiful but thou art cruel Oh! ten times more than an Hyrcanian Tygress There is a Boy that thinks thou art his Mother But surely thou didst never bear a Child For thou woud'st something know a Parents love And have some natural touch of pitie in thee And not have drain'd the life-blood of a Child To bid his Father wipe his eyes withal Qu. I therefore did it to increase thy sorrow I know a Parent 's love and thy fond love And all the mysteries of thy haughty heart I knew that thou woud'st Barricado it Against the losses of a Crown and Life With Iron-barrs of stubborness and pride But oh this blood like Oyl will sink into it These Crimson threads will lead tormenting grief Into the inmost lodgings of thy Soul And lest this Napkin be too soft a thing I have within an Engine that shall squeeze Thy soul into thy eyes Bring Rutland's Body Now thou hast drunk the liquour take the cup. Enter some with dead Rutland Pl. Oh! my sweet Boy Qu. Ah! this is Musick to me This is the part thou mean'st I shou'd have plaid If thy accursed Treasons had succeeded But that my Tragedy must have been deeper And bloodier far thou mean'st I shoud have wept For a lost Kingdom Husband and a Son Pl. Yes and I do not doubt but my three Sons Heaven's vengeance and the curses of all England Shortly will make thee weep for loss of all ' em Qu. I 'll spoil thy prophecying give me a sword Cl. I 'll pierce him first there 's for my Fathers blood Qu. There for the horrid ills thou threatnest to me Cl. There for the ills he brought upon the Kingdome Pl. Open thy gate of mercy gratious Heaven Dyes Qu. Now take his head once fill'd with lofty thoughts And set it on a lofty pinacle Ex. Scene the Field Enter Edward Ed. No tydings of my Father I am troubled Enter Richard Ric. Brother I 've news Ed. What of our valiant Father Ric. Oh no! I cannot hear what is become of him Ed. What are your news then Ric. They are not very good A Messenger is come from the Earl of Warwick Who tell 's us he is marching to our aid But leaving a strong party with Lord Cobham To guard the King and all the Southern parts They chanc'd to meet with some of the Queen's Troops And whether the Kings Coldness numm'd his keepers Or whether terror of the Warlike Queen Whose armies and success each hour encrease Or of the inexorable cruel Clifford It is not known but my Lord Cobham's men Look'd on the shining Valour of the Enemy Like sleepy Owles on day and fell beneath it That they were all destroyed and Henry fled With the Victorious Troops to joyn the Queen That the Earl of Warwick now wants strength to fight her Ed. This is ill news indeed what shall we do Ric. Hee desires you to haste away with speed To meet ten thousand men marching from Wales Rais'd by your interest there to whom he sent To joyn his Troops if possible to morrow Which they may do if you will hasten ' em Ed. They shall not want for that I 'll go this instant Ric. Pray do not fail for all our Lives and Fortunes Are set on this one cast Ed.
wou'd not have done the same War All of us wou'd and Sir I humbly beg you Think my wild passion was the Woman in me And I 've enjoy'd my Woman as you yours Ed. My Lord I know you wou'd enjoy your Woman I mean your Mistress for you have a Mistress And you who threatned to revolt from me Because some moments which were due to business I gave away to Beauty and to Love Had almost at S. Albans given away Our victory to a Woman that abhorr'd you War Ha! Ed. Yes my Lord I was inform'd the story You woo'd her over her dead Husband's Body Till you were almost taken by the Enemy I do not know her Name I never pry Into your pleasures though you censure mine But thou in Chastity wou'dst seem a Scipio Know that the Woman that thou saw'st me with Was thy own Whore Ric. Ha! Ed. Yes thy own poor Whore A Peasant's dirty Daughter whom thou keep'st By whom thou hast a little tawny Bastard Whom I o' purpose brought to shew thy Faults In th' eyes where thou hast often seen thy face This is the Lady Enter Woman Ric. Cursed treacherous jade Aside Ed. Now Sirs what think you Ge. Pray Sir give me leave To intercede for 'em I see shame covers 'em And to great minds no punishment like shame Rich. Sir not for mine but for my Father's sake Pardon my Errours and accept my Service Kneels both That I may aid you to revenge his Blood War Sir not for mine but for the Kingdoms sake Pardon my Errours and accept my service For I by placing you in the English Throne Shall place the English Throne above the World Ed. Rise both of you I freely pardon you And yet methinks it is unequal usage A King shou'd pardon all the faults of Subjects And Subjects pardon nothing in their King When a King 's crown'd he is not deifyed When he puts on the Royal Robes he does not Therefore put of th' Infirmities of man I own I have my faults and so have you You see I have convinc'd you and I did it That you might leave your faults and pardon mine Or if you kept your faults to part with me For if my Lord of Warwick does design By all his Service only to enslave me I shall lose nothing by his leaving me I can but be a Slave when I am conquer'd And if my Brother Richard has worse ends Ric. Oh! Sir no more unless you do design I shou'd rip up my Breast to shew my heart War Sir I 'll desire no farther pardon of you Till I have writ it in your Enemies Blood And pawn'd my Life and Fortune for my Loyalty Ed. Our Friendship then is stronger for this breach Now let us bend our talk to our Affairs On the sad tidings of my Father's death Which I but lately heard I sent Commissioners To Henry to demand the Crown of him According to the Oath he made in Parliament They are here what tydings Peace or War Enter Commissioners Com. War All. War 1 Com. Th' Amazon Queen drags Henry to the Battel He fain would keep his Oath but she 'll not suffer him Ric. I 'm glad of it I would not for a Kingdom Peace shou'd chain up that Bloody Mastiff Clifford And keep him safe from the edge of our keen Swords War You wrong the Beast to give that name to Clifford An English Mastiff scorns to bite a Child Ed. Now let us march to meet the Enemy This day decides who shall be King of England The right is ours War And Justice will prevail Since Right and Merit both are in the Scale Exeunt ACT. IV. An Alarm Enter King Henry the Queen Prince Clifford Cl. DAmn your unlucky Planets pray Sir get you Out of the Battel 't is impossible For men to fight the malice of your Planets Qu. He tells you true Sir Victory will never Come where you are Hen. Victory will not come Where Perjury is you make me break my Oath Cl. You ought not to have sworn so ill an Oath Pr. Father you cannot give away my Right I 'll rather lose my life than my Inheritance Cl. Spoke like a Prince Hen. Oh! Boy if thou didst know What a Crown was thou wou'dst be more content If I shou'd leave thee no Inheritance But the Example of my vertuous deeds I wish my Father had left me no more Cl. Oh! damn all this come let us to the Battel Ex. Cl. Qu. Pr. Hen. Oh! how this Fellow curses he accuses My Stars for my misfortunes when his Curses Wound all my Men and poyson the Enemies shot Wou'd I were dead if it were Heav'ns good will Lyes down For I am very weary of this World Troublesome folly governs all this World Men live her Vassals and they dye her Martyrs Oh! happy he who in an humble state Only attends on Nature's easie business And brings white heirs down to a quiet Grave Falling to earth as gently as the Snow Alarm Enter a Son bearing his Father Here comes a wretch laden as he believes With happy Fortune 't is with bloudy folly And Heaven has carv'd Fool on his breast with wounds Son Who e're thou art thy life has cost me dear But I 'll repay my self out of thy Gold If thou hast any with the hopes of that I took such pains to kill thee And yet I Who plunder thee may be compel'd e're Night To give my life and plunder to another What 's this Oh! Heaven I have kill'd my Father Oh Father pardon me I did not know thee I was in London prest to serve the King And thou the Earl of Warwick's servant prest To fight on th' other side and so unknown We met and Fought and so unknown I kill'd thee Oh from thy Bosom I will wash away With tears the marks of this unnatural Crime Hen. Oh piteous spectacle Oh sad confusions What horrid errours and unnatural ills Our horrid and unnatural war produces Poor wretch didst thou want tears I cou'd supply thee Enter a Father bearing his Son Fath. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me Give me thy gold if thou hast any gold For I have bought it with a hundred blows Ha! let me see is this my Enemy Ah no my Son I 've kill'd my only Son Hen. Ah woe on woe Heaven stop these bloudy mischiefs Though by the Death of me and all my Race Son Oh I have ta'ne his life who gave me mine Fath. Oh! I 've kill'd him for whom I wou'd have dyed Son How will my Mother for my Fathers death Take on with me Fath. How will my mourning Wife Accuse me of the slaughter of my Son Hen. How will my people charge all this on me Son I 'll bear thee hence and weep but fight no more Ex. Fath. I 'll bear thee hence and weep but kill no more Except my self with sorrow Ex. Hen. Oh! poor men Here is a King more woful than you all For you grieve for your selves I for you all Oh