The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

YORK. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?

EXETER. My conscience tells me he is lawful King.

KING HENRY. [Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay’st, Think not that Henry shall be so depos’d.

WARWICK. Depos’d he shall be, in despite of all.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Thou art deceiv’d. ‘Tis not thy southern power Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, Can set the Duke up in despite of me.

CLIFFORD. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence.

May that ground gape, and swallow me alive, Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!

KING HENRY. O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!

YORK. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.

What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?

WARWICK. Do right unto this princely Duke of York; Or I will fill the house with armed men, And over the chair of state, where now he sits, Write up his title with usurping blood.

[He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves]

KING HENRY. My Lord of Warwick, hear but one word: Let me for this my life-time reign as king.

YORK. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv’st.

KING HENRY. I am content. Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.

CLIFFORD. What wrong is this unto the Prince your son!

WARWICK. What good is this to England and himself!

WESTMORELAND. Base, fearful, and despairing Henry!

CLIFFORD. How hast thou injur’d both thyself and or us!

WESTMORELAND. I cannot stay to hear these articles.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Nor I.

CLIFFORD. Come, cousin, let us tell the Queen these news.

WESTMORELAND. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Be thou a prey unto the house of York And die in bands for this unmanly deed!

CLIFFORD. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, Or live in peace abandon’d and despis’d!

Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND

WARWICK. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.

EXETER. They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield.

KING HENRY. Ah, Exeter!

WARWICK. Why should you sigh, my lord?

KING HENRY. Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.

But be it as it may. [To YORK] I here entail The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; Conditionally, that here thou take an oath To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, To honour me as thy king and sovereign, And neither by treason nor hostility

To seek to put me down and reign thyself.

YORK. This oath I willingly take, and will perform.

[Coming from the throne]

WARWICK. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him.

KING HENRY. And long live thou, and these thy forward sons!

YORK. Now York and Lancaster are reconcil’d.

EXETER. Accurs’d be he that seeks to make them foes!

[Sennet. Here they come down]

YORK. Farewell, my gracious lord; I’ll to my castle.

WARWICK. And I’ll keep London with my soldiers.

NORFOLK. And I to Norfolk with my followers.

MONTAGUE. And I unto the sea, from whence I came.

Exeunt the YORKISTS

KING HENRY. And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.

Enter QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE OF WALES

EXETER. Here comes the Queen, whose looks bewray her anger.

I’ll steal away.

KING HENRY. Exeter, so will I.

QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.

KING HENRY. Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.

QUEEN MARGARET. Who can be patient in such extremes?

Ah, wretched man! Would I had died a maid, And never seen thee, never borne thee son, Seeing thou hast prov’d so unnatural a father!

Hath he deserv’d to lose his birthright thus?

Hadst thou but lov’d him half so well as I, Or felt that pain which I did for him once, Or nourish’d him as I did with my blood, Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir, And disinherited thine only son.

PRINCE OF WALES. Father, you cannot disinherit me.

If you be King, why should not I succeed?

KING HENRY. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son.

The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforc’d me.

QUEEN MARGARET. Enforc’d thee! Art thou King and wilt be forc’d?

I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!

Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me; And giv’n unto the house of York such head As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.

To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, What is it but to make thy sepulchre

And creep into it far before thy time?

Warwick is Chancellor and the lord of Calais; Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; The Duke is made Protector of the realm; And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds The trembling lamb environed with wolves.

Had I been there, which am a silly woman, The soldiers should have toss’d me on their pikes Before I would have granted to that act.

But thou prefer’st thy life before thine honour; And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself, Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, Until that act of parliament be repeal’d Whereby my son is disinherited.

The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace And utter ruin of the house of York.

Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let’s away; Our army is ready; come, we’ll after them.

KING HENRY. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.

QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hast spoke too much already; get thee gone.

KING HENRY. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?

QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, to be murder’d by his enemies.

PRINCE OF WALES. When I return with victory from the field I’ll see your Grace; till then I’ll follow her.

QUEEN MARGARET. Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.

Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE

KING HENRY. Poor queen! How love to me and to her son Hath made her break out into terms of rage!

Reveng’d may she be on that hateful Duke, Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!

The loss of those three lords torments my heart.

I’ll write unto them, and entreat them fair; Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger.

EXETER. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. Exeunt

SCENE II.

Sandal Castle, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire Flourish. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE

RICHARD. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

EDWARD. No, I can better play the orator.

MONTAGUE. But I have reasons strong and forcible.

Enter the DUKE OF YORK

YORK. Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?

What is your quarrel? How began it first?

EDWARD. No quarrel, but a slight contention.

YORK. About what?

RICHARD. About that which concerns your Grace and us-The crown of England, father, which is yours.

YORK. Mine, boy? Not till King Henry be dead.

RICHARD. Your right depends not on his life or death.

EDWARD. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now.

By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, It will outrun you, father, in the end.

YORK. I took an oath that he should quietly reign.

EDWARD. But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.

RICHARD. No; God forbid your Grace should be forsworn.

YORK. I shall be, if I claim by open war.

RICHARD. I’ll prove the contrary, if you’ll hear me speak.

YORK. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.

RICHARD. An oath is of no moment, being not took Before a true and lawful magistrate

That hath authority over him that swears.

Henry had none, but did usurp the place; Then, seeing ‘twas he that made you to depose, Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.

Therefore, to arms. And, father, do but think How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium

And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.

Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest

Until the white rose that I wear be dy’d Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart.

YORK. Richard, enough; I will be King, or die.

Brother, thou shalt to London presently And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.

Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk And tell him privily of our intent.

You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise; In them I trust, for they are soldiers, Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.

While you are thus employ’d, what resteth more But that I seek occasion how to rise, And yet the King not privy to my drift, Nor any of the house of Lancaster?

Enter a MESSENGER

But, stay. What news? Why com’st thou in such post?

MESSENGER. The Queen with all the northern earls and lords Intend here to besiege you in your castle.

She is hard by with twenty thousand men; And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.

YORK. Ay, with my sword. What! think’st thou that we fear them?

Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; My brother Montague shall post to London.

Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, Whom we have left protectors of the King, With pow’rful policy strengthen themselves And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.

MONTAGUE. Brother, I go; I’ll win them, fear it not.

And thus most humbly I do take my leave. Exit Enter SIR JOHN and SIR HUGH MORTIMER

YORK. Sir john and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles!

You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; The army of the Queen mean to besiege us.

SIR JOHN. She shall not need; we’ll meet her in the field.

YORK. What, with five thousand men?

RICHARD. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.

A woman’s general; what should we fear?

[A march afar off]

EDWARD. I hear their drums. Let’s set our men in order, And issue forth and bid them battle straight.

YORK. Five men to twenty! Though the odds be great, I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.

Many a battle have I won in France,

When as the enemy hath been ten to one; Why should I not now have the like success? Exeunt

SCENE III.

Field of battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield Alarum. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR

RUTLAND. Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands?

Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!

Enter CLIFFORD and soldiers CLIFFORD. Chaplain, away! Thy priesthood saves thy life.

As for the brat of this accursed duke, Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

TUTOR. And I, my lord, will bear him company.

CLIFFORD. Soldiers, away with him!

TUTOR. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

Exit, forced off by soldiers CLIFFORD. How now, is he dead already? Or is it fear That makes him close his eyes? I’ll open them.

RUTLAND. So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws; And so he walks, insulting o’er his prey, And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.

Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat’ning look!

Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.

I am too mean a subject for thy wrath; Be thou reveng’d on men, and let me live.

CLIFFORD. In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; my father’s blood Hath stopp’d the passage where thy words should enter.