I come to tell you things sith106 then befall'n.
After the bloody fray at Wakefield107 fought,
Where your brave father breathed his latest108 gasp,
Tidings, as swiftly as the posts109 could run,
Were brought me of your loss and his depart110.
I, then in London, keeper111 of the king,
Mustered my soldiers, gathered flocks of friends,
Marched toward St Albans113 to intercept the queen,
Bearing the king in my behalf114 along.
For by my scouts I was advertised115
That she was coming with a full intent
To dash our late117 decree in parliament
Touching118 King Henry's oath and your succession.
Short tale to make, we at St Albans met
Our battles120 joined, and both sides fiercely fought.
But whether 'twas the coldness121 of the king,
Who looked full122 gently on his warlike queen,
That robbed my soldiers of their heated spleen123,
Or whether 'twas report of her success,
Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour125,
Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth,
Their weapons like to128 lightning came and went,
Our soldiers' like the night-owl's lazy flight,
Or like an idle thresher with a flail130,
Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
I cheered them up with justice of our cause,
With promise of high pay and great rewards,
But all in vain: they had no heart to fight,
And we in them no hope to win the day,
So that we fled. The king unto the queen,
Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself,
In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you,
For in the marches139 here we heard you were,
Making another head140 to fight again.
EDWARD Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
And when came George from Burgundy to England?
WARWICK Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers,
And for your brother, he was lately sent
From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,145
With aid of soldiers to this needful146 war.
RICHARD 'Twas odds, belike147, when valiant Warwick fled;
Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit148,
But ne'er till now his scandal of retire149.
WARWICK Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear,
For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head,
And wring the awful153 sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war
As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer.
RICHARD I know it well, Lord Warwick, blame me not.
'Tis love I bear thy glories make me speak.
But in this troublous time, what's to be done?
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numb'ring our Ave Maries with our beads161?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell163 our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.
WARWICK Why, therefore165 Warwick came to seek you out,
And therefore comes my brother Montague.
Attend167 me, lords: the proud insulting queen,
With Clifford and the haught168 Northumberland,
And of their feather many more proud birds,
Have wrought170 the easy-melting king like wax.
He swore consent to your succession,
His oath enrolled172 in the parliament.
And now to London all the crew173 are gone,
To frustrate both his oath and what beside174
May make175 against the house of Lancaster.
Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong.
Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
Will but amount to five-and-twenty thousand,
Why, via181, to London will we march,
And once again bestride182 our foaming steeds,
And once again cry 'Charge!' upon our foes,
But never once again turn back and fly.
RICHARD Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak;
Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,
That cries 'Retire!'187 if Warwick bid him stay.
EDWARD Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean,
And when thou fail'st -- as God forbid the hour --
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend190!
WARWICK No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York:
The next degree192 is England's royal throne.
For King of England shalt thou be proclaimed
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.
RICHARD 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.
EDWARD Then strike up drums. God and Saint George203 for us!
Enter a Messenger
WARWICK How now? What news?
MESSENGER The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
The queen is coming with a puissant host206,
And craves207 your company for speedy counsel.
WARWICK Why then it sorts208, brave warriors, let's away.
Exeunt
[Act 2 Scene 2]
running scene 5
Flourish. Enter the King, the Queen, Clifford, Northum[berland]. and young Prince, with Drum and Trumpets York's head is set above the city gates
QUEEN MARGARET Welcome, my lord, to this brave1 town of York.
Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy
That sought to be encompassed with your crown:
Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
KING HENRY VI Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck5:
To see this sight, it irks6 my very soul.
Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault,
Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow.
CLIFFORD My gracious liege, this too much lenity9
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 spoils14 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 doth level19 at thy crown,
Thou smiling while he knit20 his angry brows:
He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
And raise his issue, like a loving sire22;
Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly23 son,
Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
Which argued thee25 a most unloving father.
Unreasonable26 creatures feed their young;
And though man's face be fearful27 to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender28 ones,
Who hath not seen them, even with those wings
Which sometime they have used with fearful flight,
Make war with him that climbed unto their nest,
/>
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent33!
Were it not pity34 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 his grandsire got
My careless father fondly38 gave away'?
Ah, what a shame39 were this! Look on the boy;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting41 heart
To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
KING HENRY VI Full well hath Clifford played the orator,
Inferring44 arguments of mighty force:
But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
That things ill-got had ever bad success46?
And happy47 always was it for that son
Whose father for his hoarding48 went to hell?
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 rate51
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep52
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!
QUEEN MARGARET My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh56,
And this soft courage makes your followers faint57.
You promised knighthood to our forward58 son:
Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently59.
Edward, kneel down.
KING HENRY VI Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right62.
PRINCE EDWARD My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
I'll draw it as apparent64 to the crown,
And in that quarrel use it to the death.
CLIFFORD Why, that is spoken like a toward66 prince.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER Royal commanders, be in readiness:
For with a band of thirty thousand men
Comes Warwick, backing of69 the Duke of York;
And in the towns, as they do march along,
Proclaims him king, and many fly to him.
Deraign your battle72, for they are at hand.
[Exit]
CLIFFORD I would your highness would depart the field:
The queen hath best success when you are absent.
QUEEN MARGARET Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.
KING HENRY VI Why, that's my fortune too: therefore I'll stay.
NORTHUMBERLAND Be it with resolution then to fight.
PRINCE EDWARD My royal father, cheer these noble lords
And hearten those that fight in your defence.
Unsheathe your sword, good father, cry 'Saint George!'
March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, Clarence [George], Norfolk, Montague and Soldiers
EDWARD Now, perjured Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace,
And set thy diadem upon my head,
Or bide the mortal83 fortune of the field?
QUEEN MARGARET Go, rate thy minions84, proud insulting boy.
Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?
EDWARD I am his king, and he should bow his knee:
I was adopted heir by his consent.
Since when, his oath is broke, for as I hear,
You that are king, though he do wear the crown,
Have caused him, by new act of parliament,
To blot out me and put his own son in.
CLIFFORD And reason too:
Who should succeed the father but the son?
RICHARD Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!
CLIFFORD Ay, crookback, here I stand to answer thee,
Or any he, the proudest of thy sort97.
RICHARD 'Twas you that killed young Rutland, was it not?
CLIFFORD Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.
RICHARD For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
WARWICK What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?
QUEEN MARGARET Why, how now, long-tongued102
Warwick, dare you speak?
When you and I met at St Albans last,
Your legs did better service than your hands105.
WARWICK Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.
CLIFFORD You said so much before and yet you fled.
WARWICK 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
NORTHUMBERLAND No, nor your manhood that durst109 make you stay.
RICHARD Northumberland, I hold thee reverently110.
Break off the parley, for scarce I can refrain111
The execution of my big-swol'n112 heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
CLIFFORD I slew thy father. Call'st thou him a child?
RICHARD Ay, like a dastard115 and a treacherous coward,
As thou didst kill our tender116 brother Rutland.
But ere sunset, I'll make thee curse the deed.
KING HENRY VI Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
QUEEN MARGARET Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.
KING HENRY VI I prithee, give no limits to my tongue:
I am a king and privileged to speak.
CLIFFORD My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
Cannot be cured by words: therefore be still123.
RICHARD Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword:
By him that made us all, I am resolved125
That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue126.
EDWARD Say, Henry, shall I have my right or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts128 today,
That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.
WARWICK If thou deny130, their blood upon thy head,
For York in justice puts his armour on.
PRINCE EDWARD If that be right which Warwick says is right,
There is no wrong, but everything is right.
RICHARD Whoever got134 thee, there thy mother stands,
For well I wot135, thou hast thy mother's tongue.
QUEEN MARGARET But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam136,
But like a foul misshapen stigmatic137,
Marked by the destinies138 to be avoided,
As venom139 toads or lizards' dreadful stings.
RICHARD Iron of Naples140 hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king
As if a channel142 should be called the sea
Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught143,
To let thy tongue detect144 thy base-born heart?
EDWARD A wisp of straw145 were worth a thousand crowns,
To make this shameless callet146 know herself.
Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus;148
And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother149 wronged
By that false woman, as this king by thee.
His father revelled151 in the heart of France,
And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop.
And had he matched153 according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day.
But when he took a beggar to his bed,
And graced thy poor sire with his156 bridal-day.
Even then that sunshine brewed a shower for him,
That washed his father's fortunes forth158 of France,
And heaped sedition159 on his crown at home.
For what hath broached160 this tumult but thy pride?
Hadst thou been meek, our title still161 had slept,
And we, in pity of the gentle king,
Had slipped163 our claim until another age.
GEORGE But when we saw our sunshine made thy s
pring,164
And that thy summer bred us no increase165,
We set the axe to thy usurping root.
And though the edge hath something167 hit ourselves,
Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down,
Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods.
EDWARD And in this resolution, I defy thee,
Not willing any longer conference,
Since thou denied'st173 the gentle king to speak.
Sound trumpets, let our bloody colours wave,
And either victory or else a grave!
QUEEN MARGARET Stay, Edward.
EDWARD No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay.
These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.
Exeunt
[Act 2 Scene 3]
running scene 5 continues
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Warwick
WARWICK Forspent1 with toil, as runners with a race,
I lay me down a little while to breathe2,
For strokes received, and many blows repaid
Have robbed my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
And spite of spite5 needs must I rest awhile.
Enter Edward running
EDWARD Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death,
For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.
WARWICK How now, my lord, what hap8? What hope of good?
Enter Clarence [George]
GEORGE Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair,
Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us.
What counsel give you? Whither shall we fly?
EDWARD Bootless12 is flight, they follow us with wings,
And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit.
Enter Richard
RICHARD Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
Thy brother's15 blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
Broached with the steely point of Clifford's lance,
And in the very pangs of death he cried,
Like to a dismal clangour18 heard from far,
'Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death!'