And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful,
Forthwith that Edward be pronounced a traitor,
And all his lands and goods be confiscate.

Clar. What else? and that succession be determined.
War. Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.
K. Hen. But, with the first of all your chief affairs,
Let me entreat (for I command no more)
That Margaret your queen, and my son Edward,
Be sent for, to return from France with speed;
For, till I see them here, by doubtful fear
My joy of liberty is half eclipsed.

Clar. It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed. K. Hen. My lord of Somerset, what youth is that, Of whom you seem to have so tender care?

Som. My liege, it is young Henry, earl of Richmond. K. Hen. Come hither, England's hope. [Lays his hand on his head.] If secret powers Suggest but truth to my divíning thoughts, This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss. His looks are full of peaceful majesty; His head by nature framed to wear a crown, His hand to wield a sceptre; and himself Likely in time to bless à regal throne. Make much of him, my lords; for this is he Must help you more than you are hurt by me.

Enter a Messenger.

War. What news, my friend?

Mess. That Edward is escaped from your brother, And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.

War. Unsavoury news! but how made he escape? Mess. He was convey'd by Richard duke of Gloster, And the lord Hastings, who attended him

In secret ambush on the forest side,

And from the bishop's huntsmen rescued him;

For hunting was his daily exercise.

War. My brother was too careless of his charge.But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide A salve for any sore that may betide.

[Exeunt KING HENRY, WARWICK, CLARENCE, Lieutenant, and Attendants.

Som. My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's;
For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help,
And we shall have more wars before 't be long.
As Henry's late presaging prophecy

Did glad my heart with hope of this young Richmond,
So doth my heart misgive me, in these conflicts
What may befall him, to his harm and ours:
Therefore, lord Oxford, to prevent the worst,
Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany,
Till storms be past of civil enmity.

Orf. Ay, for if Edward repossess the crown,
'Tis like that Richmond with the rest shall down.

Som. It shall be so; he shall to Brittany. Come, therefore, let's about it speedily.

SCENE VII.-Before YORK.

[Exeunt.

[rest,

Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and forces.
K. Edw. Now, brother Richard, lord Hastings, and the
Yet thus far fortune maketh us amends,
And says, that once more I shall interchange
My waned state for Henry's regal crown.
Well have we pass'd, and now repass'd the seas,
And brought desirèd help from Burgundy:
What then remains, we being thus arrived
From Ravenspurg haven before the gates of York,
But that we enter, as into our dukedom?

Glo. The gates made fast!-Brother, I like not this;
For many men that stumble at the threshold,
Are well foretold that danger lurks within.

K. Edw. Tush, man! abodements must not now By fair or foul means we must enter in, For hither will our friends repair to us.

[affright us: [them.

Hast. My liege, I'll knock once more to summon Enter, on the walls, the Mayor of York and his Brethren. May. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming, And shut the gates for safety of ourselves; For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.

K. Edw. But, master mayor, if Henry be your king, Yet Edward, at the least, is duke of York.

May. True, my good lord; I know you for no less. K. Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukeAs being well content with that alone.

[dom,

Glo. [Aside.] But when the fox hath once got in his He'll soon find means to make the body follow. [nose, Hast. Why, master mayor, why stand you in a doubt? Open the gates, we are king Henry's friends. May. Ay, say you so? the gates shall then be open'd. [Exeunt from above. Glo. A wise stout captain, and persuaded soon.

Hast. The good old man would fain that all were So 'twere not 'long of him; but, being enter'd, [well, I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade Both him and all his brothers unto reason.

Re-enter the Mayor and two Aldermen, below. K. Edw. So, master mayor: these gates must not be But in the night, or in the time of war. [shut What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys; [Takes his keys.

For Edward will defend the town and thee,
And all those friends that deign to follow me.
Drum. Enter MONTGOMERY and forces, marching.
Glo. Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,

Our trusty friend, unless I be deceived.

[arms?

K. Edw. Welcome, Sir John! but why come you in Mont. To help king Edward in his time of storm,

As every loyal subject ought to do.

K. Edw. Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now
Our title to the crown, and only claim
[forget
Our dukedom, till God please to send the rest.
Mont. Then fare you well, for I will hence again:

I came to serve a king, and not a duke.-
Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.

[A march begun.

K. Edw. Nay, stay, Sir John, a white; and we'll deBy what safe means the crown may be recover'd. [bate Mont. What talk you of debating? in few words, If you'll not here proclaim yourself our king, I'll leave you to your fortune, and be gone

our claim:

To keep them back that come to succour you:
Why should we fight, if you pretend no title? [points:
Glo. Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice
K. Edw. When we grow stronger, then we'll make
Till then, 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning. [rule
Hast. Away with scrupulous wit! now arms must
Glo. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.

K. Edw. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right, And Henry but usurps the diadem.

Mont. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself; And now will I be Edward's champion. [claim'd.Hast. Sound, trumpet; Edward shall be here proCome, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation. [Gives him a paper. Flourish. Sold. [Reads.] "Edward the fourth, by the grace of God, king of England and France, and lord of Ireland," &c.

Mont. And whosoe'er gainsays king Edward's right, By this I challenge him to single fight.

[Throws down his gauntle!. All. Long live Edward the fourth! K. Edw. Thanks, brave Montgomery;-and thanks unto you all.

If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
Now, for this night, let's harbour here in York:
And when the morning sun shall raise his car
Above the border of this horizon,

We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.-
Ah, froward Clarence! how evil it beseems thee,
To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.-
Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day;
And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. [Excunt

SCENE VIII.-LONDON. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, CLARENCE, MONTAGUE, EXETER, and OXFORD.

War. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia, With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders, Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas, And with his troops doth march amain to London; And many giddy people flock to him.

Orf. Let's levy men, and beat him back again. Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out; Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; Those will I muster up-and thou, son Clarence, Shalt stir, in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st:And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved, In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends. My sovereign, with the loving citizens,

Like to his island girt in with the ocean,
Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,-
Shall rest in London, till we come to him.-
Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply.-
Farewell, my sovereign.

[hope. K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector and my Troy's true Clar. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand. K. Hen. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate! Mont. Comfort, my lord--and so I take my leave. Oxf. [Kissing HENRY's hand.] And thus I seal my truth, and bid adieu.

K. Hen. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague, And all at once, once more a happy farewell.

War. Farewell, sweet lords; let's meet at Coventry. [Exeunt WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, and MONTAGUE.

K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest a while. Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship? Methinks the power that Edward hath in field Should not be able to encounter mine.

Exe. The doubt is, that he will seduce the rest.
K. Hen That's not my fear, my meed hath got me
I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands, fame.
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;

My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,

My mercy dried their water-flowing tears:

I have not been desirous of their wealth,

Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidles,
Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd;
Then why should they love Edward more than me?
No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace;
And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
The lamb will never cease to follow him.

[Shout within. "A Lancaster! A Lancaster!" Exe. Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are these? Enter KING Edward, GLOSTER, and Soldiers.

K. Edw. Seize on the shame-faced Henry, bear him And once again proclaim us king of England. (hence, You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow: Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry, And swell so much the higher by their ebb.-Hence with him to the Tower; let him not speak. [Exeunt some with KING HENRY. And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course, Where peremptory Warwick now remains. The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay, Cold biting winter mars our hoped-for hay. Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join, And take the great grown-traitor unawares: Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-COVENTRY.

[Exeunt.

Enter, upon the walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others.

War. Where is the post that came from valiant OxHow far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? [ford? 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. War. How far off is our brother Montague?— Where is the post that came from Montague?

2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVILLE.

War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now? Som. At Southam I did leave him with his forces, And do expect him here some two hours hence. [Drum heard. War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum. Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies: The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick. War. Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for

friends.

Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. Drums. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and forces, marching.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle. Glo. See how the surly Warwick mans the walls. War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come? Where slept our scouts, or how they are seduced, That we could hear no news of his repair?

K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates, Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee? Call Edward king, and at his hands beg inercy, And he shall pardon thee these outrages.

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence, Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down? Call Warwick patron, and be penitent,

And thou shalt still remain the duke of York.

Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said the king; Or did he make the jest against his will?

War. Is not a dukedom, Sir, a goodly gift? Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give: I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

War. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother. K. Edw. Why, then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight: And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,-
What is the body, when the head is off?

Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.

K. Edw. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel down, knee!
Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools. [down:
War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other fling it at thy face,

Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.

K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, [friend; Shall, whiles the head is warm and new cut of, Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,"Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more."

Enter OXFORD, with drum and colours. War. O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes! Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too. K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs. Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt, Will issue out again and bid us battle: If not, the city being but of small defence, We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same. War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.

Enter MONTAGUE, with drum and colours. Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city. Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason. Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory; My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.

Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours. Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the eity Glo. Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset, Have sold their lives unto the house of York; And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colours.
War. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along.
Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
More than the nature of a brother's love!-
Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick calls.
Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means?
[Taking the red rose out of his cap.
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:

I will not ruinate my father's house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, annatural,

To bend the fatal instruments of war
Against his brother and his lawful king?
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath:
To keep that oath were more impiety
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrificed his daughter

I am so sorry for my trespass made,
That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
With resolution, where oder I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad.)
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing checks.-
Pardon me, Edward. I will make ariends;
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will licnesiorth be no more unconstant.

K. Edu. Now welcome more, and ten times more Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate. [beloved,

Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.
War. O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!
K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town
and fight?

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence!

I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the Lords, to the field; St George, and victory. [way.

[March. Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Field of Battle near BARNET. Alarums and Ercursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing in WARWICK wounded.

K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.- [fear; Now, Moutague, sit fast; I seek for thee, That Warwick's bones may keep thine company. [Exit. War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe, And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick? Why ask I that? my mangled body shews,

My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shews, That I must yield my body to the earth,

And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.

Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,

[veil,

Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept;
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.
These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black
Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood.
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;
For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his brow?
Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length!
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET.

Som. 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, couldst thou fly!

War. 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 a while!
Thou lov'st 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.

Som. 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 cannon in a vault,
That might not be distinguish'd; but at last
I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,-

"0, farewell Warwick!"

Flourish.

Enter KING EDWARD in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest.

K. Edw. 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, threat'ning 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.

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

Glo. 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.

K. Edw. 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. SCENE IV.-Plains near Tewksbury.

March. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers.

Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. [their loss,
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 topmast; 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 a 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,
In 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. 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.

Orf. 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!
Som. 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.

[thinks.

Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset ;-sweet Oxford, Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing

else.

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

Oxf. I thought no less: it is his policy
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
Som. But he's deceived; we are in readiness. [ness.
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your forward-
Oxf. Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.
March. Enter, at a distance, KING EDWARD, CLARENCE,
GLOSTER, and forces.

K. Edw. 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.

[should say.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I

SCENE V.-Another Part of the same. Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat. Then enter KING EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and forces; with QUEEN MARGARET, OXFORD, and SoMERSET, prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.

Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
Orf. For my part, I will not trouble thee with words.
Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.
[Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded.
Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

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

Glo. It is: and lo, where youthful Edward comes.

Enter Soldiers with PRINCE EDWARD.

[speak.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him 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. 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 self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.

Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolved! Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stolen the breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let Æsop fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place.

Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word. Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men. Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold. Prince. Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather. K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.'

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. Prince. I know my duty; you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George,And thou misshapen Dick,-I tell ye all,

Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak?-O traitors! murderers!-
They that stabb'd Cæsar 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, an 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, deathsmen! you have rid this sweet young prince!
K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here;
Here sheathe thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death.
What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it thou.
Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou
do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to for wear 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 putt'st back.

K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence. Q. Mar. So come to you and yours, as to this prince! [Exit, led out forcibly.

K. Edw. Where's Richard gone?
Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess,

To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

K. Edw. 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.

SCENE VI.-LONDON. A Room in the Tower, KING HENRY is discovered sitting with a book in his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard? K. Hen. Ay, my good lord:-my lord, I should say 'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better: [rather, Good Gloster and good devil were alike, And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord. Glo. Sirral, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant.

K. Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf. So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece, And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.What scene of death hath Roscius now to act? Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

K. Hen. The bird that hath been limèd in a bush, With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush; And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye, [kill'd Where my poor young was limed, was caught, and Glo. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete, That taught his son the office of a fowl! And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd. K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus; Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy, Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea, Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, Than can my ears that tragic history.But wherefore dost thou come? is 't for my life? Glo. Think'st thou I am an executioner? K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art; If murd'ring innocents be executing, Why, then thou art an executioner.

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.

K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first thou didst Thou hadst not lived to kill a son of mine. [presume, And thus I prophesy,-that many a thousand, Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear; And many an old man's sigh and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye,-Men for their sons', wives for their husbands' fate, And orphans for their parents' timeless death,Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees; The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,

And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.

Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,

And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope;

To wit, an indigest deformed lump,

Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
To signify thou cam'st to bite the world:
And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
Thou cam'st-

Glo. I'll hear no more:-Die, prophet, in thy speech, [Stais him.

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.