William Shakespeare

“ A Persecutor I am sure thou art,
If murthering Innocents be Executing,
Why then thou art an Executioner
Rich. Thy Son I kill'd for his presumption
Hen. Hadst thou bin kill'd, when first y didst presume,
Thou had'st not liu'd to kill a Sonne of mine:
And thus I prophesie, that many a thousand,
Which now mistrust no parcell of my feare,
And many an old mans sighe, and many a Widdowes,
And many an Orphans water-standing-eye,
Men for their Sonnes, Wiues for their Husbands,
Orphans, for their Parents timeles death,
Shall rue the houre that euer thou was't borne. ”

“ True Clifford, that's Richard Duke of Yorke
Henry. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my Throne?
Yorke. It must and shall be so, content thy selfe
Warw. Be Duke of Lancaster, let him be King
Westm. He is both King, and Duke of Lancaster,
And that the Lord of Westmerland shall maintaine
Warw. And Warwick shall disproue it. You forget,
That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
And slew your Fathers, and with Colours spread
Marcht through the Citie to the Pallace Gates
Northumb. Yes Warwicke, I remember it to my griefe,
And by his Soule, thou and thy House shall rue it
Westm. ”

“ Call thee Mother.
Thou art a Widow, and thou hast some Children,
And by Gods Mother, I being but a Batchelor,
Haue other-some. Why, 'tis a happy thing,
To be the Father vnto many Sonnes:
Answer no more, for thou shalt be my Queene
Rich. The Ghostly Father now hath done his Shrift
Clarence. When hee was made a Shriuer, 'twas for shift
King. Brothers, you muse what Chat wee two haue
had
Rich. The Widow likes it not, for shee lookes very
sad
King. You'ld thinke it strange, if I should marrie
her
Clarence. To who, my Lord?
King. Why Clarence, to my selfe
Rich. ”

“ Yorke. I shall be, if I clayme by open Warre
Richard. Ile proue the contrary, if you'le heare mee speake
Yorke. Thou canst not, Sonne: it is impossible
Richard. An Oath is of no moment, being not tooke
Before a true and lawfull Magistrate,
That hath authoritie ouer him that sweares.
Henry had none, but did vsurpe the place.
Then seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Your Oath, my Lord, is vaine and friuolous.
Therefore to Armes: and Father doe but thinke,
How sweet a thing it is to weare a Crowne,
Within whose Circuit is Elizium,
And all that Poets faine of Blisse and Ioy. ”

“ King. Why? Am I dead? Do I not breath a Man?
Ah simple men, you know not what you sweare:
Looke, as I blow this Feather from my Face,
And as the Ayre blowes it to me againe,
Obeying with my winde when I do blow,
And yeelding to another, when it blowes,
Commanded alwayes by the greater gust:
Such is the lightnesse of you, common men.
But do not breake your Oathes, for of that sinne,
My milde intreatie shall not make you guiltie.
Go where you will, the king shall be commanded,
And be you kings, command, and Ile obey
Sinklo. We are true Subiects to the king,
King Edward
King. ”

“ Some Troopes pursue the bloody-minded Queene,
That led calme Henry, though he were a King,
As doth a Saile, fill'd with a fretting Gust
Command an Argosie to stemme the Waues.
But thinke you (Lords) that Clifford fled with them?
War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape:
(For though before his face I speake the words)
Your Brother Richard markt him for the Graue.
And wheresoere he is, hee's surely dead.
Clifford grones
Rich. Whose soule is that which takes hir heauy leaue?
A deadly grone, like life and deaths departing.
See who it is
Ed. ”

“ My Crowne is in my heart, not on my head:
Not deck'd with Diamonds, and Indian stones:
Nor to be seene: my Crowne, is call'd Content,
A Crowne it is, that sildome Kings enioy
Hum. ”

“ From Scotland am I stolne euen of pure loue,
To greet mine owne Land with my wishfull sight:
No Harry, Harry, 'tis no Land of thine,
Thy place is fill'd, thy Scepter wrung from thee,
Thy Balme washt off, wherewith thou was Annointed:
No bending knee will call thee Cæsar now,
No humble suters prease to speake for right:
No, not a man comes for redresse of thee:
For how can I helpe them, and not my selfe?
Sink. I, heere's a Deere, whose skin's a Keepers Fee:
This is the quondam King; Let's seize vpon him
Hen. ”

“ Rich. I cannot weepe: for all my bodies moysture
Scarse serues to quench my Furnace-burning hart:
Nor can my tongue vnloade my hearts great burthen,
For selfe-same winde that I should speake withall,
Is kindling coales that fires all my brest,
And burnes me vp with flames, that tears would quench.
To weepe, is to make lesse the depth of greefe:
Teares then for Babes; Blowes, and Reuenge for mee.
Richard, I beare thy name, Ile venge thy death,
Or dye renowned by attempting it
Ed. His name that valiant Duke hath left with thee:
His Dukedome, and his Chaire with me is left
Rich. ”

“ The scattred Foe, that hopes to rise againe:
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet looke to haue them buz to offend thine eares:
First, will I see the Coronation,
And then to Britanny Ile crosse the Sea,
To effect this marriage, so it please my Lord
Ed. Euen as thou wilt sweet Warwicke, let it bee:
For in thy shoulder do I builde my Seate;
And neuer will I vndertake the thing
Wherein thy counsaile and consent is wanting:
Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester,
And George of Clarence; Warwicke as our Selfe,
Shall do, and vndo as him pleaseth best
Rich. ”

“ This Ladyes Husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slaine,
His Land then seiz'd on by the Conqueror,
Her suit is now, to repossesse those Lands,
Which wee in Iustice cannot well deny,
Because in Quarrell of the House of Yorke,
The worthy Gentleman did lose his Life
Rich. Your Highnesse shall doe well to graunt her suit:
It were dishonor to deny it her
King. It were no lesse, but yet Ile make a pawse
Rich. Yea, is it so:
I see the Lady hath a thing to graunt,
Before the King will graunt her humble suit
Clarence. Hee knowes the Game, how true hee keepes
the winde?
Rich. Silence
King. ”

“ Our People, and our Peeres, are both mis-led,
Our Treasure seiz'd, our Souldiors put to flight,
And (as thou seest) our selues in heauie plight
Lewis. Renowned Queene,
With patience calme the Storme,
While we bethinke a meanes to breake it off
Marg. The more wee stay, the stronger growes our
Foe
Lewis. The more I stay, the more Ile succour thee
Marg. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow.
Enter Warwicke.
Lewis. What's hee approacheth boldly to our presence?
Marg. Our Earle of Warwicke, Edwards greatest
Friend
Lewis. ”

“ And yet be seene to beare a Womans face?
Women are soft, milde, pittifull, and flexible;
Thou, sterne, obdurate, flintie, rough, remorselesse.
Bidst thou me rage? why now thou hast thy wish.
Would'st haue me weepe? why now thou hast thy will.
For raging Wind blowes vp incessant showers,
And when the Rage allayes, the Raine begins.
These Teares are my sweet Rutlands Obsequies,
And euery drop cryes vengeance for his death,
'Gainst thee fell Clifford, and thee false French-woman
Northumb. Beshrew me, but his passions moues me so,
That hardly can I check my eyes from Teares
Yorke. ”

“ But stay, what Newes? Why comm'st thou in such
poste?
Gabriel. The Queene,
With all the Northerne Earles and Lords,
Intend here to besiege you in your Castle.
She is hard by, with twentie thousand men:
And therefore fortifie your Hold, my Lord
Yorke. I, with my Sword.
What? think'st thou, that we feare them?
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me,
My Brother Mountague shall poste to London.
Let Noble Warwicke, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we haue left Protectors of the King,
With powrefull Pollicie strengthen themselues,
And trust not simple Henry, nor his Oathes
Mount. ”

“ And so obsequious will thy Father be,
Men for the losse of thee, hauing no more,
As Priam was for all his Valiant Sonnes,
Ile beare thee hence, and let them fight that will,
For I haue murthered where I should not kill. ”

“ By what safe meanes the Crowne may be recouer'd
Mount. What talke you of debating? in few words,
If you'le not here proclaime your selfe our King,
Ile leaue you to your fortune, and be gone,
To keepe them back, that come to succour you.
Why shall we fight, if you pretend no Title?
Rich. Why Brother, wherefore stand you on nice
points?
Edw. When wee grow stronger,
Then wee'le make our Clayme:
Till then, 'tis wisdome to conceale our meaning
Hast. Away with scrupulous Wit, now Armes must
rule
Rich. ”

“ That Edward shall be fearefull of his life,
And then to purge his feare, Ile be thy death.
King Henry, and the Prince his Son are gone,
Clarence thy turne is next, and then the rest,
Counting my selfe but bad, till I be best.
Ile throw thy body in another roome,
And Triumph Henry, in thy day of Doome.
Enter.
Flourish. Enter King, Queene, Clarence, Richard, Hastings, Nurse,
and
Attendants.
King. Once more we sit in Englands Royall Throne,
Re-purchac'd with the Blood of Enemies:
What valiant Foe-men, like to Autumnes Corne,
Haue we mow'd downe in tops of all their pride? ”

“ And who durst smile, when Warwicke bent his Brow?
Loe, now my Glory smear'd in dust and blood.
My Parkes, my Walkes, my Mannors that I had,
Euen now forsake me; and of all my Lands,
Is nothing left me, but my bodies length.
Why, what is Pompe, Rule, Reigne, but Earth and Dust?
And liue we how we can, yet dye we must.
Enter Oxford and Somerset.
Som. Ah Warwicke, Warwicke, wert thou as we are,
We might recouer all our Losse againe:
The Queene from France hath brought a puissant power.
Euen now we heard the newes: ah, could'st thou flye
Warw. ”

“ Then for his minde, be Edward Englands King,
Takes off his Crowne.
But Henry now shall weare the English Crowne,
And be true King indeede: thou but the shadow.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that forthwith Duke Edward be conuey'd
Vnto my Brother Arch-Bishop of Yorke:
When I haue fought with Pembrooke, and his fellowes,
Ile follow you, and tell what answer
Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
Now for a-while farewell good Duke of Yorke.
They leade him out forcibly.
K.Ed. What Fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both winde and tide. ”

“ The Crowne to thee and to thine Heires for euer,
Conditionally, that heere thou take an Oath,
To cease this Ciuill Warre: and whil'st I liue,
To honor me as thy King, and Soueraigne:
And neyther by Treason nor Hostilitie,
To seeke to put me downe, and reigne thy selfe
Plant. This Oath I willingly take, and will performe
Warw. Long liue King Henry: Plantagenet embrace
him
Henry. And long liue thou, and these thy forward
Sonnes
Plant. ”

“ Were by the Swords of common Souldiers slaine
Edw. Lord Staffords Father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either slaine or wounded dangerous.
I cleft his Beauer with a down-right blow:
That this is true (Father) behold his blood
Mount. And Brother, here's the Earle of Wiltshires blood,
Whom I encountred as the Battels ioyn'd
Rich. Speake thou for me, and tell them what I did
Plan. Richard hath best deseru'd of all my sonnes:
But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
Nor. Such hope haue all the line of Iohn of Gaunt
Rich. ”

“ Edward. No Quarrell, but a slight Contention
Yorke. About what?
Rich. About that which concernes your Grace and vs,
The Crowne of England, Father, which is yours
Yorke. Mine Boy? not till King Henry be dead
Richard. Your Right depends not on his life, or death
Edward. Now you are Heire, therefore enioy it now:
By giuing the House of Lancaster leaue to breathe,
It will out-runne you, Father, in the end
Yorke. I tooke an Oath, that hee should quietly
reigne
Edward. But for a Kingdome any Oath may be broken:
I would breake a thousand Oathes, to reigne one yeere
Richard. ”

“ Yet shall you haue all kindnesse at my hand,
That your Estate requires, and mine can yeeld
Warw. Henry now liues in Scotland, at his ease;
Where hauing nothing, nothing can he lose.
And as for you your selfe (our quondam Queene)
You haue a Father able to maintaine you,
And better 'twere, you troubled him, then France
Mar. Peace impudent, and shamelesse Warwicke,
Proud setter vp, and puller downe of Kings,
I will not hence, till with my Talke and Teares
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy slye conueyance, and thy Lords false loue,
Post blowing a horne Within. ”

“ Here sheath thy Sword, Ile pardon thee my death:
What? wilt thou not? Then Clarence do it thou
Cla. By heauen, I will not do thee so much ease
Qu. Good Clarence do: sweet Clarence do thou do it
Cla. Did'st thou not heare me sweare I would not do it?
Qu. I, but thou vsest to forsweare thy selfe.
'Twas Sin before, but now 'tis Charity
What wilt y not? Where is that diuels butcher Richard?
Hard fauor'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not heere; Murther is thy Almes-deed:
Petitioners for Blood, thou ne're put'st backe
Ed. ”

“ King. Let's leuie men, and beat him backe againe
Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
Which being suffer'd, Riuers cannot quench
War. In Warwickshire I haue true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in Warre,
Those will I muster vp: and thou Sonne Clarence
Shalt stirre vp in Suffolke, Norfolke, and in Kent,
The Knights and Gentlemen, to come with thee.
Thou Brother Mountague, in Buckingham,
Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well enclin'd to heare what thou command'st. ”