3 KING HENRY VI 2.1

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3 KING HENRY VI 2.1

A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire.

[A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power]

EDWARD I wonder how our princely father 'scaped,

Or whether he be 'scaped away or no

From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit:

Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;

Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; 5

Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard

The happy tidings of his good escape.

How fares my brother? why is he so sad?

RICHARD I cannot joy, until I be resolved

Where our right valiant father is become. 10

I saw him in the battle range about;

And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.

Methought he bore him in the thickest troop

As doth a lion in a herd of neat;

Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, 15

Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,

The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.

So fared our father with his enemies;

So fled his enemies my warlike father:

Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. 20

See how the morning opes her golden gates,

And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!

How well resembles it the prime of youth,

Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!

EDWARD Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? 25

RICHARD Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;

Not separated with the racking clouds,

But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.

See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,

As if they vow'd some league inviolable: 30

Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.

In this the heaven figures some event.

EDWARD 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.

I think it cites us, brother, to the field,

That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, 35

Each one already blazing by our meeds,

Should notwithstanding join our lights together

And over-shine the earth as this the world.

Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear

Upon my target three fair-shining suns. 40

RICHARD Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it,

You love the breeder better than the male.

[Enter a Messenger]

But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell

Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?

Messenger Ah, one that was a woful looker-on 45

When as the noble Duke of York was slain,

Your princely father and my loving lord!

EDWARD O, speak no more, for I have heard too much.

RICHARD Say how he died, for I will hear it all.

Messenger Environed he was with many foes, 50

And stood against them, as the hope of Troy

Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy.

But Hercules himself must yield to odds;

And many strokes, though with a little axe,

Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. 55

By many hands your father was subdued;

But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm

Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen,

Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite,

Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, 60

The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks

A napkin steeped in the harmless blood

Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain:

And after many scorns, many foul taunts,

They took his head, and on the gates of York 65

They set the same; and there it doth remain,

The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.

EDWARD Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,

Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.

O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain 70

The flower of Europe for his chivalry;

And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,

For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.

Now my soul's palace is become a prison:

Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body 75

Might in the ground be closed up in rest!

For never henceforth shall I joy again,

Never, O never shall I see more joy!

RICHARD I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture

Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:

Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; 80

For selfsame wind that I should speak withal

Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,

And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.

To weep is to make less the depth of grief:

Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me 85

Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,

Or die renowned by attempting it.

EDWARD His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;

His dukedom and his chair with me is left.

RICHARD Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, 90

Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun:

For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say;

Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.

[March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army]

WARWICK How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad?

RICHARD Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount 95

Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance

Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,

The words would add more anguish than the wounds.

O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!

EDWARD O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, 100

Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption,

Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.

WARWICK Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;

And now, to add more measure to your woes,

I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. 105

After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,

Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp,

Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,

Were brought me of your loss and his depart.

I, then in London keeper of the king, 110

Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends,

And very well appointed, as I thought,

March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen,

Bearing the king in my behalf along;

For by my scouts I was advertised 115

That she was coming with a full intent

To dash our late decree in parliament

Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.

Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met

Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: 120

But whether 'twas the coldness of the king,

Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,

That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen;

Or whether 'twas report of her success;

Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, 125

Who thunders to his captives blood and death,

I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth,

Their weapons like to lightning came and went;

Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight,

Or like an idle thresher with a flail, 130

Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.

I cheer'd 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; 135

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 marches here we heard you were,

Making another head to fight again. 140

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 needful war.

RICHARD 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:

Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,

But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.

WARWICK Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; 150

For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine

Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head,

And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,

Were he as famous and as bold in war

As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. 155

RICHARD I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:

'Tis love I bear thy glories makes 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, 160

Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?

Or shall we on the helmets of our foes

Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?

If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.

WARWICK Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; 165

And therefore comes my brother Montague.

Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,

With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,

And of their feather many more proud birds,

Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. 170

He swore consent to your succession,

His oath enrolled in the parliament;

And now to London all the crew are gone,

To frustrate both his oath and what beside

May make against the house of Lancaster. 175

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, 180

Why, Via! to London will we march amain,

And once again bestride 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: 185

Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,

That cries 'Retire,' 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 forfend! 190

WARWICK No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York:

The next degree is England's royal throne;

For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd

In every borough as we pass along;

And he that throws not up his cap for joy 195

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, 200

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 George for us!

[Enter a Messenger]

WARWICK How now! what news?

Messenger The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, 205

The queen is coming with a puissant host;

And craves your company for speedy counsel.

WARWICK Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away.

[Exeunt]

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EDWARD	I wonder how our princely father 'scaped,
	Or whether he be 'scaped away or no
	From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit:
	Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;
	Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;	5
	Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard
	The happy tidings of his good escape.
	How fares my brother? why is he so sad?

RICHARD	I cannot joy, until I be resolved
	Where our right valiant father is become.	10
	I saw him in the battle range about;
	And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
	Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
	As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
	Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,	15
	Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
	The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.
	So fared our father with his enemies;
	So fled his enemies my warlike father:
	Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son.	20
	See how the morning opes her golden gates,
	And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
	How well resembles it the prime of youth,
	Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!

RICHARD	Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
	Not separated with the racking clouds,
	But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
	See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
	As if they vow'd some league inviolable:	30
	Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
	In this the heaven figures some event.

EDWARD	'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
	I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
	That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,	35
	Each one already blazing by our meeds,
	Should notwithstanding join our lights together
	And over-shine the earth as this the world.
	Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
	Upon my target three fair-shining suns.	40

RICHARD		Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it,
		You love the breeder better than the male.
		[Enter a Messenger]
		But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
		Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?

Messenger	Ah, one that was a woful looker-on	45
	When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
	Your princely father and my loving lord!

Messenger	Environed he was with many foes,	50
	And stood against them, as the hope of Troy
	Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy.
	But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
	And many strokes, though with a little axe,
	Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.	55
	By many hands your father was subdued;
	But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm
	Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen,
	Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite,
	Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept,	60
	The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks
	A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
	Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain:
	And after many scorns, many foul taunts,
	They took his head, and on the gates of York	65
	They set the same; and there it doth remain,
	The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.

EDWARD	Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,
	Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
	O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain	70
	The flower of Europe for his chivalry;
	And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
	For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.
	Now my soul's palace is become a prison:
	Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body	75
	Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
	For never henceforth shall I joy again,
	Never, O never shall I see more joy!

RICHARD	I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture
	Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:
	Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen;	80
	For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
	Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
	And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
	To weep is to make less the depth of grief:
	Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me	85
	Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
	Or die renowned by attempting it.

EDWARD		His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
		His dukedom and his chair with me is left.

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RICHARD	Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,	90
	Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun:
	For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say;
	Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.
	[March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army]

RICHARD	Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount	95
	Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance
	Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
	The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
	O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!

EDWARD	O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet,	100
	Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption,
	Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.

WARWICK	Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;
	And now, to add more measure to your woes,
	I come to tell you things sith then befall'n.	105
	After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
	Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp,
	Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
	Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
	I, then in London keeper of the king,	110
	Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends,
	And very well appointed, as I thought,
	March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen,
	Bearing the king in my behalf along;
	For by my scouts I was advertised	115
	That she was coming with a full intent
	To dash our late decree in parliament
	Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
	Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met
	Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought:	120
	But whether 'twas the coldness of the king,
	Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
	That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen;
	Or whether 'twas report of her success;
	Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,	125
	Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
	I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth,
	Their weapons like to lightning came and went;
	Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight,
	Or like an idle thresher with a flail,	130
	Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
	I cheer'd 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;	135
	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 marches here we heard you were,
	Making another head to fight again.	140

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 needful war.

RICHARD		'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:
		Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
		But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.

WARWICK	Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;	150
	For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
	Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head,
	And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
	Were he as famous and as bold in war
	As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer.	155

RICHARD	I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:
	'Tis love I bear thy glories makes 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,	160
	Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
	Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
	Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
	If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.

WARWICK	Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out;	165
	And therefore comes my brother Montague.
	Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
	With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
	And of their feather many more proud birds,
	Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax.	170
	He swore consent to your succession,
	His oath enrolled in the parliament;
	And now to London all the crew are gone,
	To frustrate both his oath and what beside
	May make against the house of Lancaster.	175
	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,	180
	Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
	And once again bestride 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:	185
	Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,
	That cries 'Retire,' 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 forfend!	190

WARWICK	No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York:
	The next degree is England's royal throne;
	For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
	In every borough as we pass along;
	And he that throws not up his cap for joy	195
	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,	200
	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 George for us!
		[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,	205
	The queen is coming with a puissant host;
	And craves your company for speedy counsel.

WARWICK		Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away.
		[Exeunt]