Ah, Lancaster! I fear thine overthrow,

More than my body's parting with my soul.
My love, and fear, glew'd many friends to thee;
And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts, 600
Impairing Henry, strength'ning mis-proud York.
The common people swarm like summer flies:
And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun?
And who shines now, but Henry's enemy?
O Phoebus! hadst thou never given consent
That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds,
Thy burning car had never scorch'd the earth:
And Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
And as thy father, and his father, did,

610

Giving no ground unto the house of York,
They never then had sprung like summer flies-
I, and ten thousand in this luckless realm,
Had left no mourning widows for our deaths,
And thou this day hadst kept thy throne in peace.
For what doth cherish weeds, but gentle air?
And what makes robbers bold, but too much lenity ?
Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:
The foe is merciless, and will not pity;

And, at their hands, I have deserv'd no pity. 620
The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
And much effuse of blood doth make me faint:-
Come, York, and Richard, Warwick, and the rest;
I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.

[He faints.

Alarum,

Alarum, and Retreat. Enter EDWARD, CLARENCE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers.

Edw. Now breathe we, lords; good fortune bids us pause,

And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.-
Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen ;-
That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
Command an argosy to stem the waves.

630

But think you, lords, that Clifford flew with them?
War, No, 'tis impossible he should escape:
For, though before his face I speak the word,
Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave;
And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead.

[CLIFFORD groans, and dies, Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy

leave?

Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's depart

ing.

Edw. See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, If friend, or foe, let him be gently us'd.

641

Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, But set his murdering knife unto the root From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, I mean, our princely father, duke of York.

War. From off the gates of York fetch down the

head,

F

Your

Your father's head, which Clifford placed there:
Instead whereof, let his supply the room;
Measure for measure must be answered.

Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,

That nothing sung but death to us and ours:
Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.

650

[Attendants bring the Body forward.

War. I think his understanding is bereft :Say, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee ?Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say.

Rich. O, 'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth;

'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,

Because he would avoid such bitter taunts

As in the time of death he gave our father.

660

Cla. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace.
Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
Cla. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee.
Cla. Where's captain Margaret, to fence you now?
War. They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast

wont.

670

Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world

goes hard,

When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath :

I know by that, he's dead; and, by my soul,
Would this right hand buy but an hour's life,
That I in all despight might rail at him,
I'd chop it off; and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain, whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head, And rear it in the place your father's stands.- 680 And now to London with triumphant march,

There to be crowned England's royal king.
From thence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
And ask the lady Bona for thy queen :

So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again;

For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears.

First, will I see the coronation;

690

And then to Britany I'll cross the sea,

To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.

Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be : For on thy shoulder do I build my seat;

And never will I undertake the thing,

Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.—
Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster ;-

And George, of Clarence ;-Warwick, as ourself, Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.

Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George, of

Gloster ;

For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.

700

Fij

War.

War. Tut, that's a foolish observation;

Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London,
To see these honours in possession.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

A Wood in Lancashire. Enter SINKLO, and HUM-
PHREY, with Cross-Bows in their Hands.

Sinklo.

UNDER this thick-grown brake we'll shroud our

selves;

For through this laund anon the deer will come;
And in this covert will we make our stand,
Culling the principal of all the deer.

Hum. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
Sink. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best:
And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
I'll tell thee what befell me on a day,

10

In this self place where now we mean to stand.
Hum. Here comes a man, let's stay 'till he be past.

Enter King HENRY, with a Prayer-Book.

K. Henry. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure

love,

To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;

Thy