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* His body couched in a curious bed,
Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his Father, dragging in the dead body.
Son. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.— * This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, • May be possessed with some store of crowns; * And I, that haply take them from him now, *May yet ere night yield both my life and them *To some man else, as this dead man doth me.— : Who's this 2–0 God! it is my father's face, * Whom in this conflict I unawares have killed. ‘O heavy time, begetting such events! • From London by the king was I pressed forth ; * My father, being the earl of Warwick’s man, • Came on the part of York, pressed by his master; • And I, who at his hands received my life, * Have by my hands of life bereaved him.— * Pardon me, God; I knew not what I did l— And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!— *My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; * And no more words, till they have flowed their fill.
• K. Hen. O piteous spectacle ! O bloody times Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens, • Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.— * Weep, wretched man; I'll aid thee tear for tear; * And let our hearts, and eyes, like civil war, * Be blind with tears and break, o'ercharged with grief.
Enter a Father, who has killed his Son, with the body
in his arms.
• Fath. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold; * For I have bought it with a hundred blows.• But let me see:–is this our foeman’s face F * Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son — * Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,
WOL. IV, 6
* Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise, * Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, * Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart!— ‘O, pity, God, this miserable age l— ‘What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, * Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural, * This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!— ‘ O, boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, And hath bereft thee of thy life too late '" K. Hen. Woe above woe grief more than common rief! ‘O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds ! * O, pity, pity, gentle Heaven, pity! he red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colors of our striving houses: * The one, his purple blood right well resembles; * The other, his pale cheeks, methinks, present! Wither one rose, and let the other flourish * If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. Son. How will my mother, for a father's death, Take on” with me, and ne'er be satisfied Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, * Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied • K. Hen. How will the country, for these woful - chances, * Misthink" the king, and not be satisfied * Son. Was ever son, so rued a father’s death P • Fath. Was ever father, so bemoaned a son P * K. Hen. Was ever king, so grieved for subjects’ woe P * Much is your sorrow; mine, ten times so much. * Son. I’ll bear thee hence, where I may weep my
fill. [Exit with the body. * Fath. These arms of mine shall be thy windingsheet; . * My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre; * For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go. * My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; * And so obsequious" will thy father be, * Sad for the loss of thee, having no more, * As Priam was for all his valiant sons. I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, For I have murdered where I should not kill. [Exit with the body. * K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with Care, ‘Here sits a king more woful than you are.
1 Stratagems here means direful events. . . 2 Of these obscure lines the following explanation by Henley is the most probable which has been offered:—Had the son been younger, he would have been precluded from the levy which brought him to the field; and had the father recognized him before their mortal encounter, it would not have been too late to have saved him from death. - 3 To take on is a phrase still in use in common parlance, and signifies to persist in clamorous lamentations. Think unfavorably of
Alarums: Excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE of WALEs, and ExETER.
‘ Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, ‘And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: “Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. * Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain ; Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds, * Having the fearful, flying hare in sight, “With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath, ‘And bloody steel grasped in their ireful hands, * Are at our backs; and, therefore, hence amain. * Eve. Away! for vengeance comes along with them ; * Nay, stay not to expostulate ; make speed ; Or else come after, I’ll away before. ‘ K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good, sweet Exeter ; . * Not that I fear to stay, but love to go * Whither the queen intends. Forward; away ! [Eveunt.
1 Obsequious is here careful of obsequies or funeral rites.
SCENE WI. The same. A loud Alarum.
Enter CLIFFoRD, wounded * Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies,
Which, while it lasted, gave king Henry light.
gorget suddenlie, with an arrow (as some saie) without a head, was stricken into the throte, and immediately rendered his spirit.”
Alarum and Retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, 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, filled with a fretting gust, * Command an argosy to stem the waves. : But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape ; For, though before his face I speak the words, Your brother Richard marked 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 f Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's departing." Edw. See who it is; and now the battle's ended, If friend or foe, let him be gently used. • Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for ’tis Clifford; • Who not contented that he lopped 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, . Your father’s head, which Clifford placed there ; : Instead whereof, let this 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. [Attendants bring the body forward.
1 Departing for separation.