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Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took king Henry’s chair;
And this is he was his adopted heir.—
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crowned so soon, and broke his solemn oath P
As I bethink me, you should not be king,
Till our king Henry had shook hands with death.
And will you pale” your head in Henry’s glory,
And rob his temples of the diadem,
Now in his life, against your holy oath P
O, 'tis a fault too, too unpardonable !—
Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head;
And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.
Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake.
Q. Mar. Nay, stay; let’s hear the orisons he makes.
York. She wolf of France, but worse than wolves of
France, .
‘Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth !
How ill-beseeming is it, in thy sex,
To triumph like an Amazonian trull,
* Upon their woes, whom fortune captivates
But that thy face is, visorlike, unchanging,
Made impudent with use of evil deeds,
I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.
To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom derived,
Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not
shameless. -
Thy father bears the type” of king of Naples,
Of both the Sicils, and Jerusalem;
Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;
Unless the adage must be verified,—
That beggars, mounted, run their horse to death.
'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;

possessions. And, at length having thus scorned hym with these and

diverse other the like despitefull woordes, they strooke off his heade,

which (as ye have heard) they presented to the queen.”
1 Impale, encircle with a crown.
2 i. e. the crown, the emblem or symbol of royalty.

But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small.
'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired ;
The contrary doth make thee wondered at.
'Tis government,' that makes them seem divine;
The want thereof makes thee abominable.
Thou art as opposite to every good,
As the antipodes are unto us,
Or as the south to the septentrion.
O, tiger's heart, wrapped in a woman’s hide
How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
And yet be seen to bear a woman’s face 2
Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible;
* Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
‘Bidd'st thou me rage P why, now thou hast thy wish:
* Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy
will; -
* For raging wind blows up incessant showers.
And, when the rage allays, the rain begins.
These tears are my sweet Rutland’s obsequies;
‘And every drop cries vengeance for his death,
‘’Gainst thee, fell, Clifford, and thee, false French-
WOIOla Il.
North. Beshrew me, but his passions” move me so,
That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.
York. That face of his the hungry cannibals
Would not have touched, would not have stained with
blood;
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,
O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
See, ruthless queen, a hapless father’s tears;
This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet boy,
And I with tears do wash the blood away.
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this;
[He gives back the handkerchief.
And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;

1 Government, in the language of the time, signified evenness of temper, and decency of manners. 2 Passions for griefs.

Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears,
And say,+Alas, it was a piteous deed!—
There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my
curse ;
And, in thy need, such comfort come to thee,
As now I reap at thy too cruel hand
Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world;
My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
North. Had he been slaughterman to all my kin,
* I should not for my life but weep with him,
To see how inly-sorrow gripes his soul.
Q. Mar. What, weeping-ripe, my lord Northum-
berland P
Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. .
Clif. Here’s for my oath, here's for my father's

death. [Stabbing him. Q. Mar. And here’s to right our gentle-hearted king. [Stabbing him.

York. Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God! ‘My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee. . [Dies. Q. Mar. Off with his head, and set it on York gates; So York may overlook the town of York." [Ea.eunt.

1 This gallant prince fell by his own imprudence, in consequence of leading an army of only five thousand men to engage with twenty thousand, and not waiting for the arrival of his son, the earl of March, with a large body of Welshmen. He and Cecily his wife, with his son Edmund, earl of Rutland, were originally buried in the chancel of Fotheringay church. Peacham, in his Complete Gentleman, 1627, p. 153, gives an account of the destruction of their monuments, of the disinterment, &c., and of their reinterment in the church, by command of queen Elizabeth, under a mean monument of plaster.

ACT II.

fordshire. Drums. * ,

SCENE I. A Plain near Mortimer's Cross in Here.

Enter EDWARD and RICHARD, with their Forces, - - marching. * Edw. I wonder how our princely father 'scaped; * Or whether he be 'scaped away, or no, *From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit. * Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; * Or, had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard * The happy tidings of his good escape. ‘How fares my brother P why is he so sad? Rich. I cannot joy, until I be resolved Where our right valiant father is become. * I saw him in the battle range about; ‘And watched him how he singled Clifford forth. * Methought he bore him in the thickest troop, As doth a lion in a herd of meat; * Or as a bear encompassed round with dogs; *Who having pinched a few, and made them cry, * The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. * So fared our father with his enemies; * So fled his enemies my warlike father; * Methinks 'tis prize enough to be his son. See how the morning opes her golden gates, And takes her farewell of the glorious sun * How well resembles it the prime of youth, * Trimmed like a younker, prancing to his love Edw. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns f Rich. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;” Not separated with the racking clouds," But severed in a pale, clear-shining sky. See, see they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, As if they vowed some league inviolable; Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. In this the heaven figures some event. * Edw. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. I think it cites us, brother, to the field; That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, * Each one already blazing by our meeds,” Should, notwithstanding, join our lights together, ‘And overshine the earth, as this the world. * Whate’er it bodes, henceforward will I bear Upon my target three fair-shining suns. * Rich. Nay, bear three daughters;–by your leave I speak it; *You love the breeder better than the male.

1 Prize is here again used for estimation.

2 This circumstance is mentioned both by Hall and Holinshed. “At which tyme the sun (as some write) appeared to the earl of March like three summes, and sodainely joyned altogether in one; upon whiche sight hee tooke such courage, that he fiercely setting on his enemyes put them to flight; and for this cause menne ymagined that he gave the sun in his full bryghtnesse for his badge or cognizance.—Holinshed. 1. i. e. the clouds floating before the wind like a reek or vapor. This verb, though now obsolete, was formerly in common use; and it is now orovincially common to speak of the rack of the weather. 2 Meed anciently signified merit as well as reward.

Enter a Messenger.

* But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell * Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? Mess. Ah, one that was a woful looker on, When as the noble duke of York was slain, * Your princely father, and my loving lord. * Edw. O, speak no more 1 for I have heard too . much. * Rich. Say how he died, for I will hear it all. * Mess. Environed he was with many foes; * And stood against them as the hope of Troy * Against the Greeks, that would have entered Troy. *But Hercules himself must yield to odds; *And many strokes, though with a little axe,

VOL. IV.

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