University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter King Henry, Prince Edward, Warwick, George, Queen, Lady Elizabeth, Lady Anne, and Attendants.
War.
Gracious Henry, lend Ear unto my Speech,
Since Heav'n approves your Reign in our Success,
I think, my Liege, that it is more than needful,
Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a Traytor,
And all his Lands and Goods confiscated.
And with your royal Leave, I speak it, Henry,
That Clarence well deserves those forfeit Lands.

K. Hen.
I think
There's not a Thing I would deny Warwick,
Though Clarence's Merit did not prompt me to it.

War. Geo.
Accept our hearty Thanks, my royal Liege.

Geo.
And noble Warwick too accept my Thanks,
For the great Blessings you have given me.

Prince.
And take my Thanks, who wish I had more,
To give brave Warwick for my beauteous Bride.

War.
I wish her Merit were equal to your Love.

Prince.
She deserves more than I can ever pay.

Queen.
Heaven grant your Loves may ever prove successful.

Enter a Messenger.
War.
What News, my Friend?

Mess.
Edward is escaped from your Brother,
And fled (as he hears since) to Burgundy.

War.
Unsavoury News! but how made he his Escape?

Mess.
He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloster,
And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
In secret Ambush on the Forest Side,
And from the Bishop's Huntsmen rescu'd him:
For hunting was his daily Exercise.

War.
My Brother was too careless of his Charge.
But let us hasten in, and call a Council,
And so determine quickly what's to do.

[Exeunt.
Geo.
So please you, Sir, I'll follow presently.
Now I'm secure of Warwick's beauteous Daughter,
Why let the Devil take him with his Treason.
Perhaps he will object my sacred Oath:
To keep that Oath were more Impiety,
Than Jephthah's when he sacrific'd his Daughter.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, fare thee well.
Be it your Care, Sir, on the first Opportunity,
To seize my lovely Bride, and follow me;
For I in private (left I should meet Prevention)
Will hasten hence, to joyn my Brother Edward.
And in each Town, as I do pass along,
I'll see and muster Soldiers for his Service.

Gent.
Sir, I with Care will your Commands obey,
And if I fail, then take my forfeit Life.

Geo.
If you succeed, doubt not of great Reward.

[Exeunt.
Enter Edward, Richard, Gentlemen, and Attendants.
Edw.
Now, Brother Richard, and my noble Followers,
Yet thus far Fortune maketh us Amends,
And says, That once more I shall interchange
My wained State, for Henry's regal Crown.
Well have we pass'd, and now repass'd the Seas,
And brought desir'd Help from Burgundy.
Now say, How fares my faithful Brother?

Rich.
Why much the better for that faithful Title,
And if I Richard ever prove untrue,
May Heaven's Vengeance follow me to my Grave.

Edw.
Thanks, my dear Brother; and Thanks to all my Friends,
If Fortune serve me, I'll requite this Kindness.
Now for this Night our Tents shall here be pitch'd,
And when the Morning Sun shall raise his Carr
Above the Border of this Horizon,
We'll forward towards Warwick and his Mates:
For well I wot, that Henry is no Soldier.
Ah! froward Clarence, how ill doth it become thee,
To flatter Henry, and forsake thy Brother?
Yet as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.
Come on, brave Soldiers, doubt not of the Day,
And that once gotten, doubt not of large Pay.

[Exeunt.
Enter Henry, Queen, Warwick, Lady Anne, and Attendants.
War.
What Counsel, Lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans, and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in Safety through the narrow Seas,
And with his Troops doth march amain to London,
And many giddy People flock to him.

K. Hen.
Let's muster Men, and beat him back again.

War.
My Liege speaks well—I will about it strait:
A little Fire is quickly trodden out,
Which being suffer'd, Rivers cannot quench.
I wonder what is now become of Clarence,
His Aid would be most needful at this Time.

K. Hen.
No doubt he's gone to do us special Service,
For he most solemnly hath sworn me Friendship.

Queen.
Pray Heaven his Actions shall declare him so.
Enter Prince.
Whence come you, my Ned?

Prince.
I have been viewing
Our well-disposed Troops, their chearful Looks
Promise no less than glorious Victory.
Their Arms all shining bright appear a Sun;
Their piercing Eyes, that sparkle thro' their Helmets,
With a quick Motion spread a Fire around 'em,
And show like Stars twinkling i'th' Firmament.
The Plumes and Colours waving o'er their Heads,
Do fan the Fire that has possess'd their Hearts.
Each prancing Horse neighs Courage to his Rider,
And with their horned Hoofs they paw the Ground,
As they'd dig Graves for all our Enemies.
I am transported with the gallant Sight,
And my Breast burns, I so much long for War.

War.
Then your Desires shall be satisfy'd,
For we will march to meet Edward this instant.
But hear you ought of Clarence, noble Prince?

Prince.
'Twas Part of what I would have told to you,
Had not your Words so soon cut off my Tale.
Clarence is fled to his Brother—he left Orders
With one (whom Threats and Gold has caus'd discover it)
To bring your Daughter Lady Elizabeth after.

War.
I will not waste the Time in idle Words,
But speedy Action shall declare my Rage.
Soon as I have giv'n some Orders to my Daughter,
I'll mount my Horse, and with what Speed I may,
I'll hasten to chastise this perjur'd Clarence.
My Sovereign with the loving Citizens,
Like to his Island, girt with the Ocean,
Shall rest in London, 'till we return.

K. Hen.
Farewel my Hector, and my Troy's true Hope,
Well-minded Warwick, be thou fortunate.

War.
In Sign of Truth, I kiss your Highness' Hand,
Comfort, my Lord, and so I take my Leave.

K. Hen.
What, my young Edward, Wilt thou to these Wars?

Prince.
Why, who is he, whose Chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing Hair, that will not follow
These choice and gallant Cavaliers to War.

K. Hen.
Why then I'll in, to pray for thy Success,
My Prayers, and Blessing, ever shall attend thee:
Yet much I fear we ne'er shall meet again.

Queen.
Fear as you will, he shall unto the Field.
Be speedy, Boy, for I'm resolv'd to see thee,
Sure of a Crown, or dying at my Feet.

Prince.
My Heart has here a little Leave to take,
And then I follow.
[Exeunt. Manent Prince and Anne.
Oh, my beauteous Anne!
The Battle bids me leave thee for a while,
But flush'd with Conquest soon I will return,
And lay my dear bought Laurels at thy Feet.
By Heav'n, I think I cou'd perswade my Father
To resign his Crown for ever to proud York,
So I might rest within thy lovely Fold,
Secure of Peace, and undisturb'd by War.
But that the Thoughts of making thee a Queen,
Awakes my Soul, and summons it to Arms:
Yet if I fall, which gracious Heav'n forbid,
For now, methinks, I am ev'n fond of Life,
(Having tasted of the Bliss of thy sweet Love)
Tho' I before thought of it as a Trifle.
The Loss of Life seems but of little Moment
When I reflect upon the Loss of thee.
And when the horrid Thought comes in my Mind.
I leave behind my Soul's dearest Treasure
For other happy Men, perhaps, to enjoy.
Then Sweet, I beg of thee this once to swear,
Thou never wilt have thought of other Man.

L. A.
Why, my dear Lord, do you then doubt my Truth?

Prince.
Oh no, by Heaven—but I wou'd have my Ear
Blest with the Musick of thy melting Voice,
In Words of Comfort, e'er I do depart,
That if the Almighty Power's gracious Will
Is so determin'd, I must fall in Battle,
I may have Hopes our spotless Souls, through Love
And Constancy, may meet in Heav'n hereafter,
And spite of War we may again be Happy.

L. A.
Then hear me, gracious Heav'n, and assist me,
To keep the Vow I solemnly do make.
If it seems fitting in the Eye of Heav'n,
My precious Edward in this War should fall,
May Heav'n forsake me at my latest Hour,
If I e'er taste of Joy, or Comfort more.
And if my Heart shou'd e'er swerve from Truth,
May all the bitter Pangs of a rack'd Conscience
Pursue me here, and in the World to come:
And oh! ye mighty Guardians of the Just,
Protect his Youth i'th' deadly brunt of War,
And send my Yew home adorn'd in Triumph.
Edward, my Love, be careful of thy Life,
For if thou dy'st, thy loving Anne falls with thee.

Prince.
This is too much for Mortal to support,
How shall I bear this vast Excess of Bliss?
Surely I cannot have long time to live,
My Joys flow in so fast this present Hour.
But let Fate do its worst, this pays for all.
Oh, my Heart's Joy, if Edward e'er prove false,
May Heav'n inflict its deadliest Vengeance on me.
Hark, my Love,
[Trumpets sound.
The cheerful Trumpet calls me to the Field,
My Heart e'en dances to its spritely Notes;
This one Embrace, and then farewel my Anne.
Adieu thou dearest, thou excelling Creature,
Now I am certain Fate it self can't part us.
Let Death stand in its worst Form array'd,
I will not entertain a Thought of Fear,
But warm'd by thee, my Life, bravely I'll on,
To assert my lawful Title to the Crown.
By this Day's Feats in Battle I will prove,
What Youth dare do for Empire, and for Love.

[Exit.
Enter Lady Elizabeth.
L. E.
Oh Anne! now show thy self a loving Sister,
And send Elizabeth Supply of Tears,
For mine will ne'er suffice for my great Sorrow.

L. A.
Alas, from whence proceeds this sudden Grief!

L. E.
Is not our Father Warwick gone to fight
Against King Edward, and my Husband Clarence,
And can'st thou ask the Occasion of these Tears;
Let who will conquer, still thy Sister mourns,
Or for her murder'd Father, or her Husband.

L. A.
Why, let his Treason wipe away his Love.

L. E.
Oh, he's too deeply rooted in my Heart!
Be witness Heav'n, I had never lov'd him,
Had not my noble Father first commanded.
I plainly saw, when he did leave King Edward,
It was his Love for me did prompt him on.
Why have I not the Power to keep him here?
Oh, now he has got Possession of my Person,
He, like a Tyrant, gives his Will free way!
My Father does command that I shou'd hate him,
I, out of Duty to my worthy Father,
Wou'd hate him much, but that my Heart pleads hard,
And will not turn him forth from out my Bosom.

L. A.
Why then, indulge thy Sorrows, dear Eliza,
For I will be thy very faithful Friend,
And send forth Sigh for Sigh, and Tear for Tear.
Thy State, indeed, deserves extremest Pity,
Since thy great Sorrow is past hope of Cure,
Unless the Saints, in pity to thy Woes,
Shou'd send some Miracle to end thy Grief.

L. E.
The only Way to prove thy self my Friend,
Is to contrive how to increase my Sorrow;
For when I find that 'tis in Human Nature
To suffer more, it may avail a little
To stop the Torrent of my flowing Tears,
But I am sure that is impossible.
Whene'er I strive to press a rising Sigh,
My Heart e'en bursts to give it a free Passage.

L. A.
Let them have Scope, tho' what they do impart
Help nothing else, yet do they ease the Heart.

[Exit.
Enter Queen, Prince, Warwick, and Soldiers.
Queen.
Thus far with Speed, and easy March, we are come,
Now let us doff our silken Robes of Peace,
And arm our Minds and Bodies for fell War;
Stiffen the Sinews, summon up the Blood,
Disguise fair Nature with hard favour'd Rage,
And lend the Eye a terrible Aspect;
Now set the Teeth, and stretch the Nostril wide;
Hold hard the Breath, and rouze up e'ery Spirit
To its full Height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose Blood is fetch'd from Fathers of War Proof,
Fathers, that like so many Alexanders,
Have in these Parts from Morn till Evening fought,
And sheath'd their Swords for lack of Argument.
Dishonour not your Mothers; now attest,
That those whom you call'd Fathers did beget you.
Be Copy now, to Men of grosser Blood,
And teach 'em how to War. And you, good Yeomen,
Whose Limbs were made in England, shew us now
The Mettle of your Pasture. Let us swear
That you are worth your Breeding, which I doubt not,
For there is none of you so Mean and Base,
That hath not noble Lustre in your Eyes.
I see you stand like Grey-Hounds in the Slips,
Straining upon the Start, the Games o' Foot,
Follow your Spirit, and upon 'em Charge.
Oh, were I but a Man, that I by Deeds
Might stir your Hearts more than my poor Words can!

Prince.
Methinks a Woman of this valiant Spirit,
Shou'd, 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 shou'd have leave to go away betimes,
Lest in our Need he might infect another,
And make him of base Spirit, like himself.
If any such be here, which Heav'n forbid,
Let him depart before we need his Help.

War.
Women and Children of so high a Courage,
And Warriors faint, why, 'twere perpetual Shame.
Oh brave young Prince—thy famous Grandfather
Doth live again in thee: Long may'st thou live
To bear his Image, and renew his Glories.
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.
Thanks noble General, brave Warwick Thanks.

Prince.
And take his Thanks, that yet hath nothing else.

Enter Messenger.
Mess.
Prepare you Chiefs, for Edward is at Hand,
Ready to fight, therefore be resolute.

War.
I thought no less; it is his Policy,
To haste thus fast to find us unprovided,
But he's deceiv'd, we are in Readiness.

Queen.
This cheers my Heart to see your Forwardness.

Mess.
I am sorry, but I have more News to tell,
Royal Henry, by a Party of Duke Edward's,
In London was surpriz'd, and now is kept
Close Prisoner in the Tower.

Queen.
Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I should say
My Tears gainsay, for e'ery Word I speak
Ye see I drink the Water of my Eye.
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 Heav'n's Name, Lords,
Be valiant, and give signal to the Fight.

War.
Follow me all, for I will lead you on
To glorious Deeds of War in Justice's Cause.

[Exeunt, Alarm, &c.
Re-enter Warwick and Prince Edward.
War.
Oh young Prince Edward, I had pleasing Hope
To tutor thee in Stratagems of War;
But now thou'rt come unto a Feast of Death,
A terrible and unavoided Danger!
Therefore, dear Prince, mount on thy swiftest Horse,
And I'll direct thee how thou may'st escape,
For I have snatch'd thee from the Jaws of Death.

Prince.
The Swords of Rebels have not made me smart;
These Words of yours draw Life-blood from my Heart.
Before young Edward (of great Henry's Race,
Who conquer'd France, and made her Chiefs to tremble)
Relinquish Warwick in the Heat of War,
I'll slay each Horse I have within the Field,
Then, worthy Chief, lose not a Thought on me,
But to thy Sword-hack'd Soldiers strait return,
And with thy wond'rous Deeds (too great for Words)
Animate thy Troops. I pray you, haste away,
Thy Presence only makes 'em win the Day.

War.
Consult thy Safety, Prince, and leave the Field.

[Exit.
Prince.
I shall consult my honourable Fame.
Fell Havock now rages through all the Hosts;
The nodding Plumes that grac'd our Soldiers Helms,
Are shiver'd all; and all besmear'd with Blood:
Their Arms and Armour hack'd with lusty Blows,
And the whole Fight displays a general Terror.
The Sight is dreadful! but 'tis glorious too!
Shall I now basely shrink? No, Heaven forbid.
Love draws my Sword, Revenge shall steel its Point;
A Crown and Royalty shall man my Breast.
I'm resolute to die, or to return
A Conqueror worthy of my Anna's Bed:
And when succeeding Ages read my Deeds,
They shall not say they sham'd our British Annals.
Ha! Richard here! Nay, then rouse up my Soul.

Enter Richard opposite to the Prince.
Rich.
Hence Stripling, for I am loth to stain my Sword
Dishonourably in the Blood of Boys.
Tho' cursed Clifford cou'd dip both his Hands
In the more precious Heart's Blood of young Rutland,
I'm above those poor Deeds—yet now I think
It were great Folly shou'd I let thee go:
Since if thy usurping Father's Friends shou'd conquer,
Thou art his Heir—tho' I will not kill thee,
But whip thee, thou rash Boy, into Submission.

Prince.
These Words provoke me—no Richard, tho' I'm a Youth,
The Blood of English Kings runs in these Veins,
And I am a Stranger to all Sorts of Fear.
E'er I will yield I'll split my Breast with Courage,
And I'll strain hard each Sinew and each Nerve,
That I may be an equal Match to meet
This mighty Bugbear Richard, so come on.

Rich.
Now, by my Life, brave Youth, thou'rt worth my Sword,
And since thou art so fond of Death, receive it.

[They approach to fight. Enter a Party on both Sides. Richard's beats off the others.
Enter Edward and Warwick, fighting. He falls.
Edw.
So, lie thou there—die thou, and die our Fear;
Now I am King of England, and I owe
My Crown to my own Sword, and not to thine.
Now Montague, sit fast, I seek for thee,
That Warwick's Bones may keep thine Company.

[Exit.
War.
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 shews
My Blood, my want of Strength, and my sick Heart,
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 dim'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 of my Brows now fill'd with Blood,
Were lik'ned oft to kingly Sepulchres,
For who liv'd King, but I could dig his Grave;
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his Brow?
Lo, now my Glory smear'd in Dust and Blood!
My Parks, my Walks, my Mannors, that I had,
E'en 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.

[Dies.
Enter Edward, George, Richard, and Soldiers.
Edw.
Thus far our Fortune keeps an upward Course,
And we are grac'd with Wreaths of Victory.

Geo.
Now, Sir, I hope you will forgive my Errors,
For you your self have felt the Power of Love.

Edw.
Brother, your Errors are all buried under
Heaps of my Enemies you have kill'd to Day.
I have dispatch'd my greatest Enemy.
Warwick will make and unmake no more Kings.

Rich.
And the bold Amazon Queen, and insolent Boy,
Her fierce Son Edward, are both taken Prisoners.
I've order'd, Sir, they shall attend you here;
And now behold where youthful Edward comes.

Enter Queen and Prince, Prisoners.
Edw.
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 giv'n me?

Prince.
Speak like a Subject, proud, ambitious York;
Suppose that I am now my Father's Mouth;
Resign thy Place, and where I stand, kneel thou,
Whilst I propose the self same Words to thee,
Which, Traytor, thou would'st have me answer to.

Queen.
Oh that thy Father had been so resolv'd!

Rich.
That so your Distaff might have been our Sceptre.

Prince.
Let Æsop fable in a Winter's Night,
His currish Riddles forth, not at this Time.

Rich.
By Heav'n, Brat, I'll plague you for that Word.

Queen.
Ay, thou wer't born to be the Plague of Men.

Rich.
Why take you not away this Captive Scold?

Prince.
Nay, take away this scolding Crook-back rather.

Edw.
Peace, wilful Boy, or I will charm thy Tongue.

Prince.
I know my Duty—you are all undutiful.
Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,
And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all,
I am your Betters, Traytors as you are,
And thou usurp'st my Father's Right and mine.

Edw.
Untutor'd Lad, thou art too malapert

[Edw. strikes him.
Rich.
Take that, thou Likeness of this Railer here.

Geo.
And there's for twitting me with Perjury.

They stab him.
Queen.
Oh, kill me too!

Rich.
Marry, with all my Heart.

Edw.
Hold Richard, we've done too much already.

Rich.
Why shou'd she live to fill the World with Strife?

Edw.
Behold she swoons, use Means for her Recovery.

Rich.
Clarence, excuse me to the King my Brother,
I'll hence to London on a serious Matter.
E'er you come there, be sure to hear some News.

Geo.
Why, whither go you?

Rich.
To the Tower, the Tower.

[Exit.
Queen.
Oh Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy Mother, Boy:
Canst thou not speak?—O Traytors! Murderers!
They that stabb'd Cæsar, 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.
Oh cruel Villains! bloody Cannibals!
How sweet a Plant have you untimely cropp'd?
You have no Children, Butchers, if you had,
The Thought of them wou'd have stir'd up Remorse;
But if you ever chance to have a Child,
Look in his Youth to have him so cut off.
As Death's Men you have rid this sweet young Prince.

Edw.
Away with her. Go, bear her hence by force.

Queen.
Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here,
Here sheath thy Sword, I'll pardon thee my Death.
What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.

Geo.
By Heav'n I will not give thee so much Ease.

Queen.
Good Clarence do, sweet Clarence do thou do it.

Geo.
Didst thou not hear me swear I wou'd not do it.

Queen.
Ay, but thou usest to forswear thy self.
'Twas Sin before, but now 'tis Charity.
What, wilt thou not; where is that Butcher Richard?
He is not here, or he wou'd grant my Suit,
And set me free from hated Light at once.

Edw.
Away, I say, I charge you bear her hence.

Queen.
So come to you and yours as to this Prince.

[Exit.
Edw.
Where's Richard gone.

Geo.
To London in great haste, and, as I guess,
To make a bloody Supper in the Tower.

Edw.
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 how well our gentle Queen does fare:
By this I hope she hath a Son for me.
Now here's a Period of tumultuous Broils
Once more we sit on England's Royal Throne,
Re-purchas'd with the Blood of Enemies.
What valiant Foe-Men, like to Autumn's Corn,
Have we mow'd down in top of all her Pride.
Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
For hardy and undoubted Champions.
Two Cliffords, as the Father and the Son.
And two Northumberlands; two braver Men,
Ne'er spur'd their Coursers at the Trumpet's Sound.
With them the two brave Bears, Warwick and Mountague,
That in their Chains fetter'd the kingly Lion,
And made the Forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept Suspicion from our Seat,
And made our Footstool of Security.

Geo.
What will your Grace have done with Margaret?

Edw.
Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
And then what rests, but that we spend the Time
With stately Triumphs, mirthful Comick Shews,
Such as befit the Pleasure of the Court,
So to divert our Subjects busy Minds,
From doing farther Mischief 'gainst the State.