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SCENE I--The same. Fields between Dartford and Blackheath. The King's camp on one side. On the other, enter York attended, with drum and colours: his forces at some distance.

York. From Ireland thus comes York, to claim his right,

And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head: Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright, 'To entertain great England's lawful king. Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear? Let them obey, that know not how to rule;


This hand was made to handle nought but gold:

'I cannot give due action to my words,

Except a sword or sceptre balance it,i

A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul; 'On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.

Enter Buckingham.

'Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble. 'Buck. York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well.

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York. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting. Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure? Buck. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, 'To know the reason of these arms in peace; 'Or why, thou-being a subject as I am,—


Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, 'Should'st raise so great a power without his leave, 'Or dare to bring thy force so near the court. York. Scarce can I speak, my choler) is so great.

'O, I could hew up rocks, and fight with flint,

I am so angry at these abject terms; And now, like Ajax Telamonius, 'On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury! 'I am far better born than is the king; 'More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts:

But I must make fair weather yet a while, Till Henry be more weak, and I more strong.


'O Buckingham, I pr'ythee, pardon me,
'That I have given no answer all this while;


My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. 'The cause why I have brought this army hither, Is-to remove proud Somerset from the king, 'Seditious to his grace, and to the state.

Buck. That is too much presumption on thy


But if thy arms be to no other end,
The king hath yielded unto thy demand;
The duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
York. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
Buck, Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
'York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my


Soldiers, I thank you all: disperse yourselves; Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field, You shall have pay, and every thing you wish. *And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, *Command my eldest son,-nay, all my sons, *As pledges of my fealty and love, *I'll send them all as willing as I live; *Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have *Is his to use, so Somerset may die. 'Buck. York, I commend this kind submission: We twain will go into his highness' tent.

(1) i. e. Balance my hand.

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Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege!

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O, let me view his visage, being dead,


That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him? Iden. I was, an't like your majesty.

'K. Hen. How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?

Iden. Alexander Iden, that's my name; A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king. *Buck. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not


'K. Hen. See, Buckingham! Somerset comes with the queen ;

'Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke. Enter Queen Margaret and Somerset.

'Q. Mar. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,

But boldly stand, and front him to his face. 'York. How now! Is Somerset at liberty? Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts, And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart. Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?False king! why hast thou broken faith with me, Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse? 'King did I call thee? no, thou art not king; 'Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,

'Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor. That head of thine doth not become a crown;

Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,

And not to grace an awful princely sceptre. That gold must round engirt these brows of mine; Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear, Is able with the change to kill and cure. 'Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up,

And with the same to act controlling laws. Give place; by heaven, thou shalt rule no more 'O'er him, whom heaven created for thy ruler.

'Som. O monstrous traitor!-I arrest thee, York,. Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown: *Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.

*York. Would'st have me kneel? first let me ask of these,

*If they can brook I bow a knee to man.— *Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail; [Exit an attendant. *I know, ere they will have me go to ward,2 (2) Custody, confinement.


They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchise-||* Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!* What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian, * And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles? *O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty? * If it be banish'd from the frosty head,

'Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain,

*To say, if that the bastard boys of York *Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

* York. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan, *Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge ! The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, 'Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those That for my surety will refuse the boys.

Enter Edward and Richard Plantagenet, with forces, at one side; at the other, with forces also,

Old Clifford and his son.

*See, where they come; I'll warrant they'll make it good.

*Q. Mar. And here comes Clifford, to deny their bail.

Makes him oppose himself against his king.


Clif. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his.

Q. Mar. He is arrested, but will not obey;
His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.
York. Will you not, sons?

Edw. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons

'Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the
York. I thank thee, Clifford: Say, what news
with thee?


Nay, do not fright us with an angry look:

We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.


Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistak'st me much, to think I do :-
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
K. Hen. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious*

*Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!

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And manacle the bear-ward2 in their chains, "If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.

*Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur * Run back and bite, because he was withheld; *Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw, *Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs, and cry'd: *And such a piece of service will you do, If you oppose yourselves to match lord Warwick. *Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,

* As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
*York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
*Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn

*K. Hen. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?

* Old Salisbury,-shame to thy silver hair,

(1) The Nevils, earls of Warwick, had a bear and ragged staff for their crest,

(2) Bear-keeper.

* Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?-
*Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
* And shame thine honourable age with blood?
*Why art thou old, and want'st experience
*Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
* For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me,
*That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

*Sal. My lord, I have considered with myself The title of this most renowned duke; *And in my conscience do repute his grace * The rightful heir to England's royal seat. *K. Hen. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?

* Sal. I have.

*K. Hen. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

*Sal. It is great sin, to swear unto a sin; * But greater sin, to keep a sinful oath. *Who can be bound by any solemn vow *To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, *To force a spotless virgin's chastity, * To reave the orphan of his patrimony, * To wring the widow from her custom'd right; * And have no other reason for this wrong, But that he was bound by a solemn oath? Q. Mar. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. K. Hen. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.

'York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,

'I am resolv'd for death, or dignity.

'Clif. The first, I warrant thee, if dreams prove


'War. You were best to go to bed, and dream

To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
Clif. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm,
Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's

The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
(As on a mountain-top the cedar shows,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,3
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,)
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear,
And tread it under foot with contempt,
'Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.

Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father, To quell the rebels, and their 'complices. Rich. Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. 'Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic,4 that's more than thou canst tell.

'Rich. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II-Saint Albans. Alarums: Excur

sions. Enter Warwick.

War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls!
And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm,
And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,-

(3) Helmet.

(4) One on whom nature has set a mark of deformity, a stigma.

Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me!
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter York.

"How now, my noble lord? what, all a-foot?
'York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my

'But match to match I have encountered him, 'And made a prey for carrion kites and crows 'Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.

Enter Clifford.

'War. Of one or both of us the time is come. York. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chace,

'As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,
It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.
[Exit Warwick.
Clif. What seest thou in me, York? Why dost
thou pause?

Rich. So, lie thou there;

For, underneath an ale-house' paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset
Hath made the wizard famous in his death.-

For I myself must hunt this deer to death.

War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou* Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still : *Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [Exit. Alarums: Excursions. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, and others, retreating.


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"York. With thy brave bearing should I be in love, 'But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

'Clif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and

'But that 'tis shown ignobly, and in treason.
'York. So let it help me now against thy sword,*
As I in justice and true right express it!

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*Meet I an infant of the house of York,
*Into as many gobbets will I cut it,
*As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house;
[Taking up the body.

'As did Æneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
* But then Æneas bare a living load,
*Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. [Exit.
Enter Richard Plantagenet and Somerset, fight-
ing, and Somerset is killed.

Clif. My soul and body on the action both!

York. A dreadful lay !I-address thee instantly.
[They fight, and Clifford falls.
Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres. [Dies.
York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for*
thou art still.

'Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!* May readily be stopp'd.


Enter Young Clifford.

*Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout; *Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds * Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell, *Whom angry heavens do make their minister, *Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part *Hot coals of vengeance!-Let no soldier fly: *He that is truly dedicate to war, *Hath no self-love; nor he, that loves himself, * Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, *The name of valour.-O, let the vile world end, [Seeing his dead father. *And the premised2 flames of the last day *Knit earth and heaven together! *Now let the general trumpet blow his blast, * Particularities and petty sounds *To cease!3---Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, *To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve4 *The silver livery of advised5 age; *And, in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus *To die in ruffian battle?-Even at this sight, *My heart is turn'd to stone: and, while 'tis mine, *It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; *No more will I their babes: tears virginal *Shall be to me even as the dew to fire; *And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims, * Shall to my flarning wrath oil and flax. * Henceforth, I will not have to do with pity:

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(1) A dreadful wager; a tremendous stake.
(2) Sent before their time. (3) Stop.
(4) Obtain.
(5) Considerate.

'Q. Mar. Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away!

*K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.

*Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll not fight, nor fly :

Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence, To give the enemy way and to secure us By what we can, which can no more but fly. [Alarum afar off. If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom Of all our fortunes: but if we haply 'scape (As well we may, if not through your neglect,) We shall to London get; where you are lov'd; *And where this breach, now in our fortunes made,

Enter Young Clifford.

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*Y. Clif. But that my heart's on future mis-
chief set,

*I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly;
Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.6
*But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
*Away, for your relief! and we will live
*To see their day, and them our fortune give:
*Away, my lord, away!
SCENE III.-Fields near Saint Albans. Alar-
um: Retreat. Flourish; then enter York, Rich-
ard Plantagenet, Warwick, and Soldiers, with
drum and colours.

'York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him; *That winter lion, who, in rage, forgets *Aged contusions and all brush of time;7 *And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,8 *Repairs him with occasion? this happy day *Is not itself, nor have we won one foot, * If Salisbury be lost. Rich. My noble father, Three times to-day I holp him to his horse, Three times bestrid him, thrice I led him off, 'Persuaded him from any further act:

But still, where danger was, still there I met him; *And like rich hangings in a homely house, So was his will in his old feeble body.

* But, noble as he is, look where he comes

(6) For parties.

(7) i. e. The gradual detrition of time.

(8) i. e. The height of youth: the brow of a hill is its summit.


For, as I hear, the king is fled to London,
To call a present court of parliament.
Let us pursue him, ere the writs go forth :-
What says lord Warwick? shail we after them?
War. After them! nay, before them, if we can.
Saint Albans' battle, won by famous York,
Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day :
Shall be eterniz'd in all to come.-
Sound, drums and trumpets;-and to London all:
And more such days as these to us befall!


(3) i. e. Being enemies that are likely so soon to (2) i. e. We have not secured that which we rally and recover themselves from this defeat. bave acquired.

Enter Salisbury.

Sal. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day;


By the mass, so did we all.-I thank you, Richard: God knows, how long it is I have to live; And it hath pleas'd him, that three times to-day You have defended me from imminent death. * Well, lords, we have not got that which we have:2 * 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, * Being opposites of such repairing nature.3

'York. I know, our safety is to follow them:

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