War. Why then it sorts, brave warriors: Let's away. SCENE II. [Exeunt. York. Enter King HENRY, the Queen, the Prince of WALES, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces. Queen. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy, That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: 210 K. Henry. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck ;— To see this sight, it irks my very soul. 220 Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, Ambitious York did level at thy crown, Thou smiling, while he knit his angry brows: Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, 230 Who hath not seen them (even with those wings Should lose his birth-right by his father's fault; Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart, 250* To hold thine own, and leave thine own with him. But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; As brings a thousand fold more care to keep, 260 Ah, cousin York! 'would thy best friends did know, How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! Queen. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh, And this soft courage makes your followers faint. 269 K. Henry. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; And learn this lesson-Draw thy sword in right.— Prince. My gracious father, by your kingly leave, I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, And in that quarrel use it to the death. Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince, Enter a Messenger. Mes. Royal commanders, be in readiness: 280 Clif. I would, your highness would depart the field; The queen hath best success when you are absent. Queen. Queen. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our for tune. K. Henry. Why, that's my fortune too ; therefore I'll stay. North. Be it with resolution then to fight. Prince. My royal father, cheer these noble lords, And hearten those that fight in your defence: Unsheath your sword, good father; cry, Saint George! March. Enter EDWARD, CLARENCE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers. Edw. Now, perjur'd Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, And set thy diadem upon my head; Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? 290 Queen. Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms, Before thy sovereign, and thy lawful king? Edw. I am his king, and he should bow his knee; I was adopted heir by his consent Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, You that are king, though he do wear the crown→→ Have caus'd him, by new act of parliament, To blot out me, and put his own son in. Clif. And reason too; Who should succeed the father, but the son? 300 Rich. Art thou there, butcher?-O, I cannot speak! Clif. Ay, crook-back; here I stand, to answer thee, Or Or any he the proudest of thy sort. Rich. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? Clif. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfy'd. Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? 310 Queen. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick? dare you speak? When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, Your legs did better service than your hands. War. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. Clif. You said so much before, and yet you fled. War. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. North. No, nor your manhood, that durst make you stay. 320 Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently ;— Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain The execution of my big-swoln heart Upon that Clifford there, that cruel child-killer. Clif. I slew thy father; Call'st thou him a child? Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous coward, As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; But, ere sun-set, I'll make thee curse the deed. K. Henry. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. Queen. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. K. Henry. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue; |