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
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
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
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
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