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KING HENRY THE SIXTH.
on King Henry's EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND,
LIAM STANLEY. Sir John MONTGOMERY. SIR
Two Keepers. A Huntsman. A Son that has killed his Father. A Father that has killed his Son.
Soldiers, and other Attendants on King Henry
and King Edward, Messengers, Watchmen, &c.
SCENE, during part of the Third Act, in France;
during the rest of the Play in England.
KING HENRY VI.
SCENE I.-London. The Parliament-House. Drums. Some Soldiers of York's party break in. Then,
enter the Duke of York, EDWARD, Richard, Nor-
York. While we pursued the horsemen of the north,
Edw. Lord Stafford's father, duke of Buckingham, Is either slai or wounded dangerously :: I cleft his beaver with a downright blow; That this is true, father, behold his blood.
(Showing his bloody Sword. Mont. And, brother, here's the earl of Wiltshire's blood.
[To York, showing his. Whom I encounter'd as the battles joined. Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.
[Throwing down the Duke of SOMERSET's Head. York. Richard hath best deserv'd of all my sons.But, is your grace dead, my lord of Somerset ?
Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
1 Dangerous: in f. e.
Rich. Thus do I hope to shake king Henry's head.
War. And so do I.–Victorious prince of York,
York. Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will ; For hither we have broken in by force.
Norf. We'll all assist you : he, that flies, shall die. York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk.–Stay by me, my
lords :And, soldiers, stay, and lodge by me this night. War. And, when the king comes, offer him no
violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out by force. [They retire. York. The queen this day here holds her parlia
War. The bloody parliament shall this be call’d,
York. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute,
War. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells.” I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares.Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. [WARWICK leads York to the Throne, who seats himself. [Flourish. Enter King HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUM
BERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and others, with red Roses in their Hats.
K. Hen. My lords, look where the stúrdy rebel sits, Even in the chair of state ! belike, he means, Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, To aspire unto the crown, and reign as king Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father ;And thine, lord Clifford : you have vow'd revenge
1 An allusion to the falcon.
On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends.
North. If I be not, heavens be reveng'd on me!
K. Hen. Be patient, gentle earl of Westmoreland.
Clif. Patience is for poltroons, such as he :
North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin : be it so.
K. Hen. Ah! know you not, the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck ?
Exe. But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly.
[They advance to the Duke.
I am thine. Exe. For shame! come down : he made thee duke
of York. York. ’T was my inheritance, as the earldom' was. Exe. Thy father was a traitor to the crown.
War. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown In following this usurping Henry.
Clif. Whom should he follow, but his natural king ? War. True, Clifford ; that is Richard, duke of York. K. Hen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my
throne ? York. It must and shall be so. Content thyself. War. Be duke of Lancaster: let him be king.
West. He is both king and duke of Lancaster; And that the lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget, That we are those which chas'd you from the field, And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
The "Tre Tragedy of Richard, Duke of York,” the old play on which this drama was founded, has kingdom.
March'd through the city to the palace gates.
North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.
West. Plantagenet, of thee, and these thy sons, Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives, Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.
Clif. Urge it no more ; lest that instead of words I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger, As shall revenge his death before I stir. War. Poor Clifford ! how I scorn his worthless
threats. York. Will you, we show our title to the crown ? If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
K. Hen. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? Thy father was, as thou art, duke of York ; Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, earl of March. I am the son of Henry the fifth, Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop, And seiz'd upon their towns and provinces.
War. Talk not France, sith thou hast lost it all.
K. Hen. The lord protector lost it, and not I: When I was crown'd, I was but nine months old.
Rich. You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.
Edw. Sweet father, do so : set it on your head.
honour'st arms, Let's fight it out, and not stand cavilling thus. [fly.
Rich. Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will
throne, Wherein my grandsire, and my father, sat ? No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; Ay, and their colours-often borne in France, And now in England, to our heart's great sorrow,Shall be my winding sheet.-Why faint you, lords ? My title 's good, and better far than his.