Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
Not his, that spoils her young before her face.
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
Not he, that sets his foot upon her back.

The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on;
And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood.
Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
Thou smiling, while he knit his angry brows:
He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
And raise his issue, like a loving sire;
Thou, being a king, bless'd with a goodly son,
Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
'Which argued thee a most unloving father.
Unreasonable creatures feed their young:
And though man's face be fearful to their
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
Who hath not seen them (even with those wings
"Which sometime they have us'd with fearful flight),
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
Were it not pity that this goodly boy

eyes,

Should lose his birthright by his father's fault;
And long hereafter say unto his child,—
What my great grandfather and grandsire got,
My careless father fondly1 gave away?

Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart,

To hold thine own, and leave thine own with him. K. Hen. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, Inferring arguments of mighty force.

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,That things ill got had ever bad success?

1 Foolishly.

And happy always was it for that son,
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell??
I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
And 'would, my father had left me no more!
For all the rest is held at such a rate,

'As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep,
'Than in possession any jot of pleasure.

Ah, cousin York! 'would thy best friends did know, 'How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! 'Q. Mar. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh,

And this soft courage makes your followers faint. You promis'd knighthood to our forward son; Unsheath your sword, and dub him presently.Edward, kneel down.

K. Hen. 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,

6

And in that quarrel use it to the death.

Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Royal commanders, be in readiness: For, with a band of thirty thousand men, Comes Warwick, backing of the duke of York; And, in the towns as they do march along, Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: Darraign your battle3, for they are at hand.

2 The king quotes two proverbs; the one- Ill gotten goods never prosper;' the other Happy the child whose father went to the devil.' This last he must be supposed to use interrogatively, as disputing the truth of it: Was it always happy for that son?' &c. This interpretation sets the king's reasoning right.

3 i. e. arrange your host, put your host in order. Darraign is used by Chaucer, Skelton, and Spenser. Thus also in Guy Earl of Warwick, a Tragical History, 1661:

Clif. I would, your highness would depart the

field:

The queen hath best success when you are absent. Q. Mar. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our

fortune.

K. Hen. 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, GEORGE, 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?

Q. Mar. 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 5; for, as I hear,

4 Happy was the queene in her two battayls, but unfortunate was the king in all his enterprises; for where his person was present the victorie fledde ever from him to the other parte.'Hall's Chronicle. Henry VI. fol. c. Drayton has enlarged upon this superstitious belief in his Miseries of Queen Margaret.

5 Edward's argument is founded on an article said to have been in the compact between Henry and the duke of York: That if the king did closely or apertly studye or go about to compass or imagine the death or destruction of the sayde duke or his blood, then he to forfet the crowne, and the duke of Yorke to take it.'-Hall. If this had been one of the articles of the

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?

Rich. Are you there, butcher?-O, I cannot speak!

Clif. Ay, crookback; here I stand to answer thee,

'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 satisfied. Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

Q. Mar. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick? dare you speak?

When you and I met at St. Albans 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.

Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently;Break off the parle; for scarce I can refrain The execution of my big-swoln heart Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

Clif. I slew thy father: Call'st thou him a child?

compact, the duke having been killed at Wakefield, his eldest son would now have a title to the crown; but Malone doubts whether it ever made part of that agreement. The poet followed Hall.

Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous coward, As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; But, ere sunset, I'll make thee curse the deed.

K. Hen. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

Q. Mar. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. K. Hen. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue; I am a king, and privileg❜d to speak.

Clif. My liege, the wound, that bred this meeting here,

Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.

Rich. Then, executioner, unsheath thy sword: By him that made us all, I am resolv❜d, "That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.

'Edw. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, That ne'er shall dine, unless thou yield the crown. War. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; For York in justice puts his armour on.

• Prince. If that be right, which Warwick says is right,

There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

Rich. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. Q.Mar. But thou art neither like thy sire, nor dam; But like a foul misshapen stigmatick,

Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings.
Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king,
(As if a channel9 should be call'd the sea),

6 It is my firm persuasion.

7 See the Second Part of King Henry VI. Act v. Sc. 1, p. 255, 8 Gilt is a superficial covering of gold.

9 A channel in the poet's time signified what we now call a kennel; which word is still pronounced channel in the north.