Complete Plays, The (281 page)

Somerset

Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are.
We might recover all our loss again;
The queen from France hath brought a puissant power:
Even now we heard the news: ah, could’st thou fly!

Warwick

Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand.
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile!
Thou lovest me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Somerset

Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breathed his last;
And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
And said ‘Commend me to my valiant brother.’
And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
That mought not be distinguished; but at last
I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
‘O, farewell, Warwick!’

Warwick

Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
For Warwick bids you all farewell to meet in heaven.

Dies

Oxford

Away, away, to meet the queen’s great power!

Here they bear away his body. Exeunt

S
CENE
III. A
NOTHER
PART
OF
THE
FIELD
.

Flourish. Enter King Edward IV in triumph; with Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest

King Edward IV

Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
And we are graced with wreaths of victory.
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threatening cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

Clarence

A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came:
The very beams will dry those vapours up,
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Gloucester

The queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford fled to her:
If she have time to breathe be well assured
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

King Edward IV

We are advertised by our loving friends
That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury:
We, having now the best at Barnet field,
Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
And, as we march, our strength will be augmented
In every county as we go along.
Strike up the drum; cry ‘Courage!’ and away.

Exeunt

S
CENE
IV. P
LAINS
NEAR
T
EWKSBURY
.

March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, Somerset, Oxford, and soldiers

Queen Margaret

Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown overboard,
The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow’d in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still. Is’t meet that he
Should leave the helm and like a fearful lad
With tearful eyes add water to the sea
And give more strength to that which hath too much,
Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have saved?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Montague our topmost; what of him?
Our slaughter’d friends the tackles; what of these?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
And Somerset another goodly mast?
The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow’d the skilful pilot’s charge?
We will not from the helm to sit and weep,
But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
And what is Edward but ruthless sea?
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say you can swim; alas, ’tis but a while!
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink:
Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish; that’s a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
If case some one of you would fly from us,
That there’s no hoped-for mercy with the brothers
More than with ruthless waves, with sands and rocks.
Why, courage then! what cannot be avoided
’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

Prince Edward

Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this as doubting any here
For did I but suspect a fearful man
He should have leave to go away betimes,
Lest in our need he might infect another
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here — as God forbid!—
Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxford

Women and children of so high a courage,
And warriors faint! why, ’twere perpetual shame.
O brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee: long mayst thou live
To bear his image and renew his glories!

Somerset

And he that will not fight for such a hope.
Go home to bed, and like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock’d and wonder’d at.

Queen Margaret

Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet Oxford, thanks.

Prince Edward

And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.

Enter a Messenger

Messenger

Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand.
Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxford

 
I thought no less: it is his policy
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

Somerset

But he’s deceived; we are in readiness.

Queen Margaret

This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.

Oxford

Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.

Flourish and march. Enter King Edward IV, Gloucester, Clarence, and soldiers

King Edward IV

Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,
Which, by the heavens’ assistance and your strength,
Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For well I wot ye blaze to burn them out
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!

Queen Margaret

Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say
My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,
Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp’d,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell’d and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God’s name, lords,
Be valiant and give signal to the fight.

Alarum. Retreat. Excursions. Exeunt

S
CENE
V. A
NOTHER
PART
OF
THE
FIELD
.

Flourish. Enter King Edward IV, Gloucester, Clarence, and soldiers; with Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, prisoners

King Edward IV

Now here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.

Oxford

For my part, I’ll not trouble thee with words.

Somerset

Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded

Queen Margaret

So part we sadly in this troublous world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

King Edward IV

Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward
Shall have a high reward, and he his life?

Gloucester

It is: and lo, where youthful Edward comes!

Enter soldiers, with Prince Edward

King Edward IV

Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak.
What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turn’d me to?

Prince Edward

Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York!
Suppose that I am now my father’s mouth;
Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee,
Which traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.

Queen Margaret

Ah, that thy father had been so resolved!

Gloucester

That you might still have worn the petticoat,
And ne’er have stol’n the breech from Lancaster.

Prince Edward

Let Aesop fable in a winter’s night;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.

Gloucester

By heaven, brat, I’ll plague ye for that word.

Queen Margaret

Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.

Gloucester

For God’s sake, take away this captive scold.

Prince Edward

Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.

King Edward IV

Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.

Clarence

Untutor’d lad, thou art too malapert.

Prince Edward

I know my duty; you are all undutiful:
Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George,
And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all
I am your better, traitors as ye are:
And thou usurp’st my father’s right and mine.

King Edward IV

Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.

Stabs him

Gloucester

Sprawl’st thou? take that, to end thy agony.

Stabs him

Clarence

And there’s for twitting me with perjury.

Stabs him

Queen Margaret

O, kill me too!

Gloucester

Marry, and shall.

Offers to kill her

King Edward IV

Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done too much.

Gloucester

Why should she live, to fill the world with words?

King Edward IV

What, doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.

Gloucester

Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother;
I’ll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.

Clarence

What? what?

Gloucester

The Tower, the Tower.

Exit

Queen Margaret

O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!
They that stabb’d Caesar shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by to equal it:
He was a man; this, in respect, a child:
And men ne’er spend their fury on a child.
What’s worse than murderer, that I may name it?
No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak:
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp’d!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr’d up remorse:
But if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off
As, deathmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!

King Edward IV

Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.

Queen Margaret

Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here,
Here sheathe thy sword, I’ll pardon thee my death:
What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.

Clarence

By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.

Queen Margaret

Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

Clarence

Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?

Queen Margaret

Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself:
’Twas sin before, but now ’tis charity.
What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil’s butcher,
Hard-favour’d Richard? Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed;
Petitioners for blood thou ne’er put’st back.

King Edward IV

Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.

Queen Margaret

So come to you and yours, as to this Prince!

Exit, led out forcibly

King Edward IV

Where’s Richard gone?

Clarence

To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

King Edward IV

He’s sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence: discharge the common sort
With pay and thanks, and let’s away to London
And see our gentle queen how well she fares:
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.

Exeunt

S
CENE
VI. L
ONDON
. T
HE
T
OWER
.

Enter King Henry VI and Gloucester, with the Lieutenant, on the walls

Gloucester

Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

King Henry VI

Ay, my good lord:— my lord, I should say rather;
’Tis sin to flatter; ‘good’ was little better:
‘Good Gloucester’ and ‘good devil’ were alike,
And both preposterous; therefore, not ‘good lord.’