Complete Plays, The
Page 225
Than Jephthah’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, wheresoe’er 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 cheeks.
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends:
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
King Edward IV
Now welcome more, and ten times more beloved,
Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.
Gloucester
Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike.
Warwick
O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!
King Edward IV
What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
Warwick
Alas, I am not coop’d here for defence!
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest.
King Edward IV
Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.
Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!
Exeunt King Edward and his company. March. Warwick and his company follow
SCENE II. A FIELD OF BATTLE NEAR BARNET.
Alarum and excursions. Enter King Edward IV, bringing forth Warwick wounded
King Edward IV
So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear;
For Warwick was a bug that fear’d us all.
Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
That Warwick’s bones may keep thine company.
Exit
Warwick
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 shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows.
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,
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 veil,
Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood,
Were liken’d oft to kingly sepulchres;
For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst mine 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
Somerset
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, could’st thou fly!
Warwick
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 awhile!
Thou lovest 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.
Somerset
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 clamour in a vault,
That mought not be distinguished; but at last
I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
‘O, farewell, Warwick!’
Warwick
Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
For Warwick bids you all farewell to meet in heaven.
Dies
Oxford
Away, away, to meet the queen’s great power!
Here they bear away his body. Exeunt
SCENE III. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.
Flourish. Enter King Edward IV in triumph; with Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest
King Edward IV
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, threatening 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.
Clarence
A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came:
The very beams will dry those vapours up,
For every cloud engenders not a storm.
Gloucester
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.
King Edward IV
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
Queen Margaret
Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
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 topmost; 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 fai
r.
And what is Edward but 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,
If 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 Edward
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.
Oxford
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!
Somerset
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.
Queen Margaret
Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet Oxford, thanks.
Prince Edward
And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.
Enter a Messenger
Messenger
Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand.
Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.
Oxford
I thought no less: it is his policy
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
Somerset
But he’s deceived; we are in readiness.
Queen Margaret
This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.
Oxford
Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.
Flourish and march. Enter King Edward IV, Gloucester, Clarence, and soldiers
King Edward IV
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!
Queen Margaret
Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say
My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,
Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp’d,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell’d and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God’s name, lords,
Be valiant and give signal to the fight.
Alarum. Retreat. Excursions. Exeunt
SCENE V. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.
Flourish. Enter King Edward IV, Gloucester, Clarence, and soldiers; with Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, prisoners
King Edward IV
Now here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
Oxford
For my part, I’ll not trouble thee with words.
Somerset
Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.
Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded
Queen Margaret
So part we sadly in this troublous world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
King Edward IV
Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward
Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Gloucester
It is: and lo, where youthful Edward comes!
Enter soldiers, with Prince Edward
King Edward IV
Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak.
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 Edward
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 selfsame words to thee,
Which traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
Queen Margaret
Ah, that thy father had been so resolved!
Gloucester
That you might still have worn the petticoat,
And ne’er have stol’n the breech from Lancaster.
Prince Edward
Let Aesop fable in a winter’s night;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Gloucester
By heaven, brat, I’ll plague ye for that word.
Queen Margaret
Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
Gloucester
For God’s sake, take away this captive scold.
Prince Edward
Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.
King Edward IV
Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
Clarence
Untutor’d lad, thou art too malapert.
Prince Edward
I know my duty; you are all undutiful:
Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George,
And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all
I am your better, traitors as ye are:
And thou usurp’st my father’s right and mine.
King Edward IV
Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.
Stabs him
Gloucester
Sprawl’st thou? take that, to end thy agony.
Stabs him
Clarence
And there’s for twitting me with perjury.
Stabs him
Queen Margaret
O, kill me too!
Gloucester
Marry, and shall.
Offers to kill her
King Edward IV
Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done too much.
Gloucester
Why should she live, to fill the world with words?
King Edward IV
What, doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.
Gloucester
Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother;
I’ll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clarence
What? what?
Gloucester
The Tower, the Tower.
Exit
Queen Margaret
O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!
They that stabb’d Caesar 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, and 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, deathmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
King Edward IV
Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
Queen Margaret
Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here,
Here sheathe thy sword, I’ll pardon thee my death:
What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.
Clarence
By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
Queen Margaret
Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
Clarence
Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
Queen Margaret
Ay, but thou usest to forswear 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 put’st back.
King Edward IV
Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.
Queen Margaret
So come to you and yours, as to this Prince!
Exit, led out forcibly
King Edward IV
Where’s Richard gone?
Clarence
To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
King Edward IV
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. THE TOWER.
Enter King Henry VI and Gloucester, with the Lieutenant, on the walls
Gloucester
Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?
King Henry VI
Ay, my good lord:— my lord, I should say rather;
’Tis sin to flatter; ‘good’ was little better:
‘Good Gloucester’ and ‘good devil’ were alike,
And both preposterous; therefore, not ‘good lord.’
Gloucester
Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer.
Exit Lieutenant