SCENE II.

Sandal-Castle, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE.

Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

Edw. No, I can better play the orator.

Mont. But I have reasons strong and forcible.

Enter the Duke of YORK.

York. Why, how now, sons, and brother, at a

strife?

What is your quarrel? how began it first?

Edw. No quarrel, but a sweet contention.

York. About what?

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Rich. About that which concerns your grace, and

us;

The crown of England, father, which is your's.
York. Mine, boy? not 'till king Henry be dead.
Rich. Your right depends not on his life, or death.
Edw. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now:
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
It will out-run you, father, in the end.

290

York. I took an oath, that he should quietly reign. Edw. But, for a kingdom, any oath may be broken:

I'd break a thousand oaths to reign one year.

Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should be for

sworn.

York.

York. I shall be, if I claim by open war.

Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.

York. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.

Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took

Before a true and lawful magistrate,

That hath authority over him that swears:

Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms: And, father, do but think,
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Within whose circuit is Elysium,

And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest,
Until the white rose, that I wear, be dy'd
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.

300

310

York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.

Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
And whet on Warwick to this enterprize.-
Thou, Richard, shalt to the duke of Norfolk,
And tell him privily of our intent.-

You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
Witty, and courteous, liberal, full of spirit.-
While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more,
But that I seek occasion how to rise;
And yet the king not privy to my drift,

Nor any of the house of Lancaster?

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Enter

Enter a Messenger.

But, stay; What news? Why com'st thou in such post?

Gab. The queen with all the northern earls and

lords,

Intend here to besiege you in your castle :

She is hard by with twenty thousand men ;
And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.

York. Ay, with my sword.

that we fear them?

What! think'st thou,

Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me ;- 330
My brother Montague shall post to London :
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we have left protectors of the king,
With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
And trust not simple Henry, nor his oaths.
Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not:
And thus most humbly I do take my leave.

1

[Exit MONTAGUE.

Enter Sir JOHN and Sir HUGH Mortimer.

York. Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine

uncles!

You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;

The army of the queen means to besiege us.

340

Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in the

field.

York. What, with five thousand men ?

Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.

A woman's general; What should we fear!

[A March afar off.

Edw. I hear their drums; Let's set our men in

order;

And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. York. Five men to twenty-though the odds be great,

I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.

Many a battle have I won in France,

When as the enemy hath been ten to one;

Why should I not now have the like success?

350

{Alarum. Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Field of Battle, betwixt Sandal-Castle and Wakefield. Enter RUTLAND, and his Tutor.

Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly, to 'scape their hands ! Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes !

Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers.

Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. As for the brat of this accursed duke

Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

Tutor. And I, my lord, will bear him company. Clif. Soldiers, away, and drag him hence per

force.

Tutor. Ah, Clifford murder not this innocent child,

Lest

Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

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[Exit, dragged off.

Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes I'll open them. Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws: And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey; And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat'ning look. Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die;~ I am too mean a subject for thy wrath, Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's

blood

370

Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should

enter.

Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again;

He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Clif Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine,

Were not revenge sufficient for me:

No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves,

And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,

It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. 380
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul;
And 'till I root out their accursed line,
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore

"[Lifting his Hand.