The Dramatic Works and Poems of William Shakespeare

"And when thou fall'st, (as God forbid the hour!)
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forefend!
War. No longer earl of March, but duke of York;
'The next degree is, England's royal throne:
For king of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
In every borough as we pass along ;
And he that throws not up his cap for joy,
• Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
King Edward,-valiant Richard,—Montague,—
Stay we no longer dreaming of renown,

But sound the trumpets, and about our task.
* Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as
steel,

* (As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,)
* I come to pierce it,-or to give thee mine.

* Edw. Then strike up, drums ;—God, and Saint George, for us!

Enter a Messenger.

War. How now? what news?

| My careless father fondly2 gave away?
Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy ;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart,

To hold thine own, and leave thine own with him.
K. Hen. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
Inferring arguments of mighty force.

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,-
That things ill got had ever bad success?
And happy always was it for that son,
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?3
I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
And 'would, my father had left me no more!
For all the rest is held at such a rate,

As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep,
Than in possession any jot of pleasure.
Ah, cousin York! 'would thy best friends did know
• How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!
'Q. Mar. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our
foes are nigh,

Mess. The duke of Norfolk sends you word by And this soft courage makes your followers faint.

me,

The queen is coming with a puissant host;
And craves your company for speedy counsel.
War. Why then it sorts,' brave warriors: Let's

away.

[Exeunt. SCENE II. Before York. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE of WALES, CLIFFORD and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces. Q. Mar. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.

yonder's the head of that arch enemy,
That sought to be encompass'd with your crown:
'Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
K. Hen. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear
their wreck ;-

l'o see this sight, it irks my very soul.-
Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault,
Not wittingly have I infring'd my vow.

Clif. My gracious liege, this too much lenity
And harmful pity, must be laid aside.
To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
Not his, that spoils her young before her face.
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
Not he, that sets his foot upon her back.

The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on;
'And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood.
Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
Thou smiling, while he knit his angry brows:
He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
And raise his issue, like a loving sire;
Thou, being a king, bless'd with a goodly son,
Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
'Which argued thee a most unloving father.
Unreasonable creatures feed their young:
And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,

Who hath not seen them (even with those wings
Which sometime they have used with fearful flight,)
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
Were it not pity that this goodly boy

Should lose his birthright by his father's fault;
And long hereafter say unto his child,-
What my great grandfather and grandsire got,

'You promis'd knighthood to our forward son;
' Unsheath your sword, and dub him presently,-
Edward, kneel down.

K. Hen. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
And learn this lesson,-Draw thy sword in right.
Prince. My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,
And in that quarrel use it to the death.
Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.
Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Royal commanders, be in readiness :
'For, with a band of thirty thousand men,
And, in the towns as they do march along,
Comes Warwick, backing of the duke of York;
Proclaims him king, and many fly to him:
'Darraign your battle,4 for they are at hand.

Clif. I would, your highness would depart the
field:

The queen hath best success when you are absent.'
Q. Mar. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our

fortune.

K. Hen. Why, that's my fortune too; therefore
I'll stay.

North. Be it with resolution then to fight.
Prince. My royal father, cheer these noble lords
And hearten those that fight in your defence:
Unsheath your sword,
your sword, good father; cry, Saint
George!

March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD,
WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Sol
diers.

'Edw. Now, perjur'd Henry! wilt thou kneei for grace,

And set thy diadem upon my head;

* Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
Q. Mar. Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting
boy!

Before thy sovereign, and thy lawful king?
Edw. I am his king, and he should bow his knee;
I was adopted heir by his consent ;

'Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms,

Since when, his oath is broke ; for, as I hear,
You that are king, though he do wear the crown,-
Have caus'd him, by new act of parliament,
To blot out me, and put his own son in.

VI. fol. c. Drayton has enlarged upon this superstitious belief in his Miseries of Queen Margaret.

1 Why, then, things are as they should be; it falls from him to the other parte.'-Hall's Chronicle. Henry out right. 2 Foolishly. 3 The king quotes two proverbs; the one-' Ill-gotten goods never prosper;' the other- Happy the child whose father went to the devil.' This last he must be supposed to use interrogatively, as disputing the truth of it: Was it always happy for that son?' &c. This interpretation sets the king's reasoning right.

6 Edward's argument is founded on an article said to have been in the compact between Henry and the duke of York: That if the king did closely or apertly studye or go about to compass or imagine the death or destruction of the sayde duke or his blood, then he to forfet the crowne, and the duke of Yorke to take it.'-Dar-Hall. If this had been one of the articles of the com pact, the duke having been killed at Wakefield, his eldest son would now have a title to the crown; but Malone doubts whether it ever made part of that agree The poet followed Hall

4 i. e. arrange your host, put your host in order. raign is used by Chaucer, Skelton, and Spenser. 5Happy was the queene in her two battayls, but unfortunate was the king in all his enterprises; for where his person was present the victorie fledde ever

ment.

• Clif. And reason too; Who should succeed the father, but the son? 'Rich. Are you there, butcher?-O, I cannot speak!

Clif. Ay, crookback; here I stand to answer thee,

any he the proudest of thy sort.

Rich. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?

Clif. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

Q. Mar. Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick? dare you speak?

your

When you and I met at St. Albans last,
Your legs did better service than hands.
War. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis
thine.

Clif. You said so much before, and yet you fled. IVar. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.

'North. No, nor your manhood, that durst make you stay.

Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently ;Break off the parle; for scarce I can refrain The execution of my big-swoln heart Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

Clif. I slew thy father: Call'st thou him a child? Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous coward,

As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland ;
But, ere sunset, I'll make thee curse the deed.
K. Hen. Have done with words, my lords, and
hear me speak.

Q. Mar. Defy them then,or else hold close thy lips. K. Hen. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue; I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.

Clif. My liege, the wound, that bred this meeting here,

Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still. Rich. Then, executioner, unsheath thy sword:

By him that made us all, I am resolv'd,1

That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.

Edw. A wisp of straw were worth a thousand

crowns,

To make this shameless callet know herself.— *Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, * Although thy husband may be Menelaus;" * And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd * By that false woman, as this king by thee. 'His father revell'd in the heart of France, And tam'd the king, and made the Dauphin stoop, And, had he match'd according to his state, He might have kept that glory to this day: But, when he took a beggar to his bed, And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day, Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. For what hath broach'd this tumult, but thy pride? Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; And we, in pity of the gentle king,

Had slipp'd our claim until another age.

"Geo. But, when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,

And that thy summer bred us no increase, We set the axe to thy usurping root: And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, 'Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, 'We'll never leave, till we have hewn thee down Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.

Edw. And, in this resolution, I defy thee; Not willing any longer conference, Since thou deny'st the gentle king to speak.— Sound trumpets!-let our bloody colours wave !And either victory, or else a grave.

Q. Mar. Stay, Edward.

Edw. No, wrangling woman; we'll no longer stay. These words will cost ten thousand lives to-day. [Exeunt

SCENE III. A Field of Battle between Towton and Saxton, in Yorkshire. Alarums: Excursions. Enter WARWICK.

'War. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,

I lay me down a little while to breathe :

For strokes receiv'd, and many blows repaid,
Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength;

'Edw. Say, Henry, shall I have my right or no?' And spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile.

A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day,
That ne'er shall dine, unless thou yield the crown.
War. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head
For York in justice puts his armour on.

• Prince. If that be right, which Warwick says is right,

There is no wrong, but every thing is right.
Rich. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue.
Q. Mar. But thou art neither like thy sire, nor

dam;

But like a foul misshapen stigmatic, Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,2 'As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings.

Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,3 Whose father bears the title of a king, (As if a channel' should be call'd the sea,) Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,

To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart ?5

1 It is my firm persuasion.

2 See the Second Part of King Henry VI. Act v. Sc. 1. Gilt is a superficial covering of gold.

A channel in the poet's time signified what we now call a kennel; which word is still pronounced channel in the north.

5 To show thy meanness of birth by thy indecent railing.

6 A wisp of straw was often applied as a mark of opprobrium to an immodest woman, a scold, or similar offenders; even showing it to a woman was, therefore, considered as a grievous affront. A cullet was a lewd woman; but a term often given to a scold.

7 i. e. a cuckold. In Troilus and Cressida, Thersites, speaking of Menelaus, calls him 'The goodly transformation of Jupiter there,-the primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds.'

Enter EDWARD, running.

Edw. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death!

'For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. War. How now, my lord? what hap? what hope of good?

Enter GEOrge.

* Geo. Our hapis loss, our hope but sad despair, Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us : 'What counsel give you, whither shall we fly? 'Edw. Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings;

And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit.

Enter RICHard.

Rich. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?

Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,10 'Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance : And, in the very pangs of death, he cried,—

8 Shakspeare has here, perhaps, intentionally thrown three different actions into one. The principal action took place on the eve of Palm Sunday, 1461. This battle (says Carte) decided the fate of the house of Lan caster, overturning in one day an usurpation strength ened by sixty-two years' continuance, and established Edward on the throne of England.' Thus repulsed, our final hope Is flat despair. 10 The brother here mentioned is no persʊn in the drama, but a natural son of Salisbury. Holinshed, relating the death of Lord Clifford in this action at Ferrybridge, on the 28th of March, 1461, says, 'He was slaine, and with him the bastard of Salisbury, brother to the earl of Warwick, a valiant young gentleman, and of great audacitie '

Milton

I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.

* Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, *Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; * And look upon, as if the tragedy

*Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
'Here on my knee I vow to God above,
'I'll never pause again, never stand still,
'Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine,
'Or fortune given me measure of revenge.

Edw. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine ;
'And, in this vow, do chain my soul to thine.-
* And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face,
* I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee,
Thou setter up and plucker down of kings!
'Beseeching thee,-if with thy will it stands,
That to my foes this body must be prey,-
'Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope,
'Ana give sweet passage to my sinful soul!-
'Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
Where'er it be, in heaven, or on earth.

• Rich. Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle
Warwick,

'Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:
'I, that did never weep, now melt with woe,
'That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
War. Away, away! Once more sweet lords,
farewell.

• Geo. Yet let us all together to our troops,
And give them leave to fly that will not stay;
And call them pillars, that will stand to us;
And, if they thrive, promise them such rewards
'As victors wear at the Olympian games:
* This may plant courage in their quailing2 breasts;
*For yet is hope of life, and victory.

* Fore-slow3 no longer, make we hence amain.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field. Aiarum,
Enter KING Henry.

*K. Hen. This battle fares like to the morning'

war,6

What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, * When dying clouds contend with growing light, * Can neither call it perfect day, nor night. Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea, 'Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind; • Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea 'Forc❜d to retire by fury of the wind ; 'Sometime, the flood prevails; and then the wind Now, one the better; then, another best ; 'Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, 'Yet neither conqueror, nor conquered:

;

* Here on this molehill will I sit me down,
So is the equal poise of this fell war.
For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
*To whom God will, there be the victory!
'Have chid me from the battle; swearing both,
'They prosper best of all when I am thence.
''Would, I were dead! if God's good will were so :
For what is in this world, but grief and woe?
*O God! methinks, it were a happy life,"
To be no better than a homely swain;
*To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run:
*To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
* How many make the hour full complete,
* How many hours bring about the day,
* How many days will finish up the year,
When this is known, then to divide the times:
*How many years a mortal man may live.
* So many hours must I tend my flock;
* So many hours must I take my rest;
*So many hours must I contemplate;
*So many hours must I sport myself;
*So many days my ewes have been with young,
So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
* So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean;

[Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. * Another Part of the Field. Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIF

FORD.

Rich. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone :
Suppose, this arm is for the duke of York,
And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
'Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.4
Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone:
This is the hand, that stabb'd thy father York;
And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
And here's the heart that triumphs in their death,
And cheers these hands, that slew thy sire and
brother,

To execute the like upon thyself;
And So, have at thee.

[They fight. FORD flies. Rich. Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;

WARWICK enters; CLIF

For I myself will hunt this wolf to death."

[Exeunt.

Statius, Theb. ii. v. 453.

5 Two very similar lines in the preceding play are spoken of Richard's father by Clifford's father:'Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase, For I myself must hunt this deer to death.'

6 The leading thought in both these soliloquies is bor"owed from Holinshed, p. 665. This deadly conflict continued ten hours in doubtful state of victorie, uncertainlie heaving and setting on both sides,' &c. Steevens points out a similar comparison in Virgil, Æn. lib. x. ver. 354, which originates with Homer, Iliad xiv.

7 This speech is mournful and soft, exquisitely suited o the character of the king, and makes a pleasing inter

* So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years,
* Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely.
* Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
*To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep,
*Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
*To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery?
* O, yes it doth; a thousand fold it doth.
* And to conclude,-the shepherd's homely curds,
* His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
*His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade
* All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,

* Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His body couched in a curious bed,
* His viands sparkling in a golden cup,

* When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his Father,a
dragging in the dead Body.

Son. Ill blows the wind, that profits nobody.This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, change, by affording, amidst the tumult and horror of the battle, an unexpected glimpse of rural innocence and pastoral tranquillity.-Johnson. There are some verses preserved of Henry VI. which are in a strain of the same pensive moralizing character. The reader may not be displeased to have them here subjoined, that he may compare them with the congenial thoughts the poet has attributed to him:

'Kingdoins are but cares;
State is devoid of stay;
Riches are ready snares,
And hasten to decay.
Pleasure is a privy [game],
Which vice doth still provoke ;
Pomp unprompt; and fame a flame;
Power & smouldering smoke.

Who meaneth to remove the rock
Out of his slimy mud,

Shall mire himself, and hardly scape
The swelling of the flood.'

8 These two horrible instances are selected to show

• May be possessed with some store of crowns:
*And I, that haply take them from him now,
*May yet ere night yield both my life and them
*To some man else, as this dead man doth me.—
'Who's this?-O God! it is my father's face,
'Whom in this conflict I unawares have kill'd.
O heavy time, begetting such events!
From London by the king was I press'd forth;
'My father, being the earl of Warwick's man,
'Came on the part of York, press'd by his master ;
And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life,
'Have by my hands of life bereaved him.-
Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did!-
And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!
* My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks;
* And no more words, till they have flow'd their fill.
'K. Hen. O piteous spectacle! O bloody times!
Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens,
'Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.-
* Weep, wretched I'll aid thee tear for tear
*And let our hearts, and eyes, like civil war,
* Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharg'd with
grief.1

man,

*My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre ;
*For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go.
*My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
* And so obsequious will thy father be,
* Sad for the loss of thee, having no more,
As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
For I have murder'd where I should not kill.
[Exit, with the Body.
'K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with

Enter a Father, who has killed his Son, with the‹
Body in his arms.

'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.-
'But let me see:-is this our foeman's face?
Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son!-
*Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,

*Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise,
* Blown with the windy tempest of my heart,
* Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart!—
'O, pity, God, this miserable age
'What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
'Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural,

This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!-O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, 'And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!3 K. Hen. Woe above woe! grief more than common grief!

O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! *O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity!— The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colours of our striving houses: *The one, his purple blood right well resembles ; *The other, his pale cheeks, methinks, present! Wither one rose, and let the other flourish! 'If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. Son. How will my mother, for a father's death, Take on with me, and ne'er be satisfied! Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, 'Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied!

K. Hen. How will the country, for these woful chances,

'Misthink the king, and not be satisfied!

Son. Was ever son, so rued a father's death?
'Fath. Was ever father, so bemoan'd a son?
'K. Hen. Was ever king, so griev'd for subjects'
woe ?

'Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much.
Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep
my fill.
Exit with the Body.
* Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy winding-

sheet;

the innumerable calamities of civil war. Raphael has introduced the second of these incidents in his picture of the battle of Constantine and Maxentius.

1 The king intends to say that the state of their hearts and eyes shall be like that of the kingdom in a civil war; all shall be destroyed by power formed within themselves.

2 Stratagems here means direful events.

post amain,

Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds 'Having the fearful flying hare in sight, • With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,

And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
'Are at our backs; and therefore, hence amain.
'Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with
them;

Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed;
Or else come after, I'll away before.

'K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet
Exeter;

Not that I fear to stay, but love to go 'Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The same. A loud Alarum. Enter

CLIFFORD, wounded.”

'Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies,
Which, while it lasted, gave King Henry light.
O, Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow,
More than my body's parting with my soul.
My love, and fear, glew'd many friends to thee

And, now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt.
Impairing Henry, strength'ning mis-proud York,
The common people swarm like summer flies ·
And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun?8
And who shines now but Henry's enemies?
O Phœbus! hadst thou never given consent
That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds,
Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth:
And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
Or as thy father, and his father did,
Giving no ground unto the house of York,
*They never then had sprung like summer flies
I, and ten thousand in this luckless realm,
Had left no mourning widows for our death,
And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in
For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
'And what makes robbers bold, but too much
lenity?

• No

peace.

Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight •
The foe is merciless, and will not pity;
For at their hands I have deserv'd no pity.

The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
And much effuse of blood doth make me faint:-

5 Think unfavourably of.

6 Obsequious is here careful of obsequies or funeral rites. See Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1.

7 In the old play the stage direction adds, with an arIt is thought that Beaumont and row in his neck. Fletcher ridiculed this, by introducing Ralph, the gro cer's prentice, in the Knight of the Burning Pestle, with 3 of these obscure lines the following explanation by a forked arrow through his head. The circumstance is Henley is the most probable which has been offered:- related by Holinshed, p. 664 - The Lord Clifford, ei Had the son been younger he would have been preclud-ther for heat or paine, putting off his gorget suddenlie, ed from the levy which brought him to the field; and had the father recognized him before their mortal encounter, it would not have been too late to have saved bim from death.

4 To take on is a phrase still in use in common par"Lance, and signifies to persist in clamorous lamentation.

with an arrow (as some saie) without a head, was strick. en into the throte, and immediately rendered his spirit.' 8 Hence perhaps originated the following passage in The Bard of Gray :

'The swarm that in thy noontide beam were harn Gone to salute the rising morn.'

* Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen ;'That led calm Henry, though he were a king, 'As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, 'Command an argosy to stem the waves. 'But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape : For, though before his face I speak the words, Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: 'And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. [CLIFFORD groans, and dies. Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?

Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.2

Edw. See who it is: and now the battle's ended, If friend, or foe, let him be gently us'd.

Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clif

ford;

'Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, 'But set his murdering knife unto the root

From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,

'I mean our princely father, duke of York.

War. From off the gates of York fetch down the head,

Your father's head, which Clifford placed there : • Instead whereof, let this supply the room; Measure for measure must be answered.

Edw. Bring forth that fatal screechowl to our house,

That nothing sung but death3 to us and ours: Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,

And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. [Attendants bring the Body forward. War. I think his understanding is bereft :Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to

thee?

Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say.

Rich. O, 'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; ''Tis but his policy to counterfeit, 'Because he would avoid such bitter taunts, • Which in the time of death he gave our father. Geo. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.4

Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace.
Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
Geo. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
'Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to
York.

Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thes. Geo. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?

War. They mock thee, Clifford! swear as thou

wast wont.

'Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath goes hard, If this right hand would buy two hours' life, I know by that, he's dead; And, by my soul, That I in all despite might rail at him,

This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood

Stifle the villain, whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's
head,

And rear it in the place your father's stands.-
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king.
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to
France,

So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen .
'And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not
dread

For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again:
Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears.
First, will I see the coronation;

And then to Britany I'll cross the sea,
To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.
Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let
it be:

* And never will I undertake the thing,
*For on thy shoulder do I build my seat;

* Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
'Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster ;-
;--
'And George, of Clarence ;-Warwick, as ourself,
'Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.
Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George, of
Gloster ;

For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.5
War. Tut, that's a foolish observation ;
Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London,
To see these honours in possession.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. A Chase in the North of England. Enter Two Keepers, with Crossbows in their Hands.

1 Keep. Under this thick-grown brake' we'l shroud ourselves;

For through this laundR anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, Culling the principal of all the deer.

* 2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may

shoot.

* 1 Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy crossbow

Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost * Here stand we both, and aim we at the best. * And, for the time shall not seem tedious,

presented these characters, Sincklo and Humphrey. Humphrey was probably Humphrey Jeaffes, mentioned

1 Thus in King Richard III. :— Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front.' 2 Departing for separation. To depart, in old lan-in Mr. Henslowe's manuscript; Sincklo we have before guage, is to part. Thus in the old marriage service: Till death us depart.'

3 We have this also in King Richard III. :

• Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death.' 4 Sour words; words of asperity. Verie eagre or sowre: peracerous.”—Baret.

5 Alluding to the deaths of Thomas of Woodstock and Humphrey, duke of Gloster. The author of the old play, in which this line is found, had a passage of Hall's Chronicle in his thoughts, in which the unfortunate ends of those who had borne the title is recounted: he thus concludes:- So that this name of Gloucester is taken for an unhappie and unfortunate stile, as the proverb speaks of Segane's horse, whose ryder was ever unhorsed, and whose possessor was ever brought

to miserie.'

6 In the folio copy, instead of two keepers, we have through negligence the names of the persons who re

mentioned, his name being prefixed to some speeches in the Induction to The Taming of the Shrew. Hall and Holinshed tell us that Henry VI. 'was no sooner entered into England but he was known and taken of one Cantlow, and brought to the king. It appears, however, from records in the duchy office, that King Edward granted a rent-charge of one hundred pound to Sir James Harington, in recompense of his great and labo. rious diligence about the capture and detention of the king's great traitor, rebel, and enemy, lately called Henry the Sixth, made by the said James and likewise annuities to Richard and Thomas Talbot, Esquires,-Talbot, and Levesey, for their services in the same capture. Henry had been for some time harboured by James Maychell of Crakenthorpe, Westmoreland. See Rymer's Fœdera, xi. 548, 575. 7 Thicket.

S A plain extended between woods, a lawn.

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The Dramatic Works and Poems of William Shakespeare: With Notes ..., Volumen2