Complete Plays, The (271 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

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Warwick

Do right unto this princely Duke of York,
Or I will fill the house with armed men,
And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
Write up his title with usurping blood.

He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves

King Henry VI

My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word:
Let me for this my life-time reign as king.

York

Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,
And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest.

King Henry VI

I am content: Richard Plantagenet,
Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.

Clifford

What wrong is this unto the prince your son!

Warwick

What good is this to England and himself!

Westmoreland

Base, fearful and despairing Henry!

Clifford

How hast thou injured both thyself and us!

Westmoreland

I cannot stay to hear these articles.

Northumberland

Nor I.

Clifford

Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news.

Westmoreland

Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.

Northumberland

Be thou a prey unto the house of York,
And die in bands for this unmanly deed!

Clifford

In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
Or live in peace abandon’d and despised!

Exeunt Northumberland, Clifford, and Westmoreland

Warwick

Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.

Exeter

They seek revenge and therefore will not yield.

King Henry VI

Ah, Exeter!

Warwick

 
Why should you sigh, my lord?

King Henry VI

Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
But be it as it may: I here entail
The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever;
Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
To honour me as thy king and sovereign,
And neither by treason nor hostility
To seek to put me down and reign thyself.

York

This oath I willingly take and will perform.

Warwick

Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him.

King Henry VI

And long live thou and these thy forward sons!

York

Now York and Lancaster are reconciled.

Exeter

Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes!

Sennet. Here they come down

York

Farewell, my gracious lord; I’ll to my castle.

Warwick

And I’ll keep London with my soldiers.

Norfolk

And I to Norfolk with my followers.

Montague

And I unto the sea from whence I came.

Exeunt York, Edward, Edmund, George, Richard, Warwick, Norfolk, Montague, their Soldiers, and Attendants

King Henry VI

And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.

Enter Queen Margaret and Prince Edward

Exeter

Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger:
I’ll steal away.

King Henry VI

 
Exeter, so will I.

Queen Margaret

Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.

King Henry VI

Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.

Queen Margaret

Who can be patient in such extremes?
Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid
And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father
Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus?
Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I,
Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
Or nourish’d him as I did with my blood,
Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there,
Rather than have that savage duke thine heir
And disinherited thine only son.

Prince Edward

Father, you cannot disinherit me:
If you be king, why should not I succeed?

King Henry VI

Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son:
The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me.

Queen Margaret

Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced?
I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me;
And given unto the house of York such head
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
What is it, but to make thy sepulchre
And creep into it far before thy time?
Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais;
Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
The duke is made protector of the realm;
And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds
The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
The soldiers should have toss’d me on their pikes
Before I would have granted to that act.
But thou preferr’st thy life before thine honour:
And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
Until that act of parliament be repeal’d
Whereby my son is disinherited.
The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace
And utter ruin of the house of York.
Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let’s away;
Our army is ready; come, we’ll after them.

King Henry VI

Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.

Queen Margaret

Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone.

King Henry VI

Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?

Queen Margaret

Ay, to be murder’d by his enemies.

Prince Edward

When I return with victory from the field
I’ll see your grace: till then I’ll follow her.

Queen Margaret

Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.

Exeunt Queen Margaret and Prince Edward

King Henry VI

Poor queen! how love to me and to her son
Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
Revenged may she be on that hateful duke,
Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle
Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!
The loss of those three lords torments my heart:
I’ll write unto them and entreat them fair.
Come, cousin you shall be the messenger.

Exeter

And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all.

Exeunt

S
CENE
II. S
ANDAL
C
ASTLE
.

Enter Richard, Edward, and Montague

Richard

Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

Edward

No, I can better play the orator.

Montague

But I have reasons strong and forcible.

Enter York

York

Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
What is your quarrel? how began it first?

Edward

No quarrel, but a slight contention.

York

About what?

Richard

About that which concerns your grace and us;
The crown of England, father, which is yours.

York

Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead.

Richard

Your right depends not on his life or death.

Edward

Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now:
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
It will outrun you, father, in the end.

York

I took an oath that he should quietly reign.

Edward

But for a kingdom any oath may be broken:
I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.

Richard

No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn.

York

I shall be, if I claim by open war.

Richard

I’ll prove the contrary, if you’ll hear me speak.

York

Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.

Richard

An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate,
That hath authority over him that swears:
Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
Then, seeing ’twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Within whose circuit is Elysium
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest
Until the white rose that I wear be dyed
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart.

York

Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.
Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk,
And tell him privily of our intent.
You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.
While you are thus employ’d, what resteth more,
But that I seek occasion how to rise,
And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster?

Enter a Messenger

But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post?

Messenger

The queen with all the northern earls and lords
Intend here to besiege you in your castle:
She is hard by with twenty thousand men;
And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.

York

Ay, with my sword. What! think’st thou that we fear them?
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
My brother Montague shall post to London:
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we have left protectors of the king,
With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.

Montague

Brother, I go; I’ll win them, fear it not:
And thus most humbly I do take my leave.

Exit

Enter John Mortimer and Hugh Mortimer

Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles,
You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
The army of the queen mean to besiege us.

John Mortimer

She shall not need; we’ll meet her in the field.

York

What, with five thousand men?

Richard

Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need:
A woman’s general; what should we fear?

A march afar off

Edward

I hear their drums: let’s set our men in order,
And issue forth and bid them battle straight.

York

Five men to twenty! though the odds be great,
I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
Many a battle have I won in France,
When as the enemy hath been ten to one:
Why should I not now have the like success?

Alarum. Exeunt

S
CENE
III. F
IELD
OF
BATTLE
BETWIXT
S
ANDAL
C
ASTLE
AND
W
AKEFIELD
.

Alarums. Enter Rutland and his Tutor

Rutland

Ah, whither shall I fly to ’scape their hands?
Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!

Enter Clifford and Soldiers

Clifford

Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

Tutor

And I, my lord, will bear him company.

Clifford

Soldiers, away with him!

Tutor

Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
Lest thou be hated both of God and man!

Exit, dragged off by Soldiers

Clifford

How now! is he dead already? or is it fear
That makes him close his eyes? I’ll open them.

Rutland

So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch
That trembles under his devouring paws;
And so he walks, insulting o’er his prey,
And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
And not with such a cruel threatening look.
Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.
I am too mean a subject for thy wrath:
Be thou revenged on men, and let me live.

Clifford

In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; my father’s blood
Hath stopp’d the passage where thy words should enter.

Rutland

Then let my father’s blood open it again:
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Clifford

Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine
Were not revenge sufficient for me;
No, if I digg’d up thy forefathers’ graves
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul;
And till I root out their accursed line
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore —

Lifting his hand

Rutland

O, let me pray before I take my death!
To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!

Clifford

Such pity as my rapier’s point affords.

Rutland

I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?

Clifford

Thy father hath.

Rutland

 
But ’twas ere I was born.
Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,
Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,
He be as miserably slain as I.
Ah, let me live in prison all my days;
And when I give occasion of offence,
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.

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