Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry’s head,
And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war
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As he is fam’d for mildness, peace, and prayer.
RICHARD I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:
’Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
But in this troublous time what’s to be done?
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
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And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.
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WARWICK
Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out,
And therefore comes my brother Montague.
Attend me, lords. The proud insulting Queen,
With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
And of their feather many moe proud birds,
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Have wrought the easy-melting King like wax.
He sware consent to your succession,
His oath enrolled in the Parliament;
And now to London all the crew are gone,
To frustrate both his oath and what beside
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May make against the house of Lancaster.
Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong:
Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
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Will but amount to five-and-twenty thousand,
Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
And once again cry ‘Charge upon our foes!’
But never once again turn back and fly.
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RICHARD
Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak.
Ne’er may he live to see a sunshine day,
That cries ‘Retire’, if Warwick bid him stay.
EDWARD Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
And when thou fall’st – as God forbid the hour! –
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Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!
WARWICK No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York:
The next degree is England’s royal throne;
For King of England shalt thou be proclaim’d
In every borough as we pass along;
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And he that throws not up his cap for joy
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown,
But sound the trumpets, and about our task.
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RICHARD
Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
EDWARD
Then strike up, drums! God and Saint George for us!
Enter a Messenger.
WARWICK How now! what news?
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MESSENGER
The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
The Queen is coming with a puissant host;
And craves your company for speedy counsel.
WARWICK
Why then it sorts; brave warriors, let’s away. Exeunt.
2.2 Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE OF WALES, CLIFFORD and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets.
QUEEN MARGARET
Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
Yonder’s the head of that arch-enemy
That sought to be encompass’d with your crown:
Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
KING HENRY
Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wrack:
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To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
Withhold revenge, dear God! ’tis not my fault,
Nor wittingly have I infring’d my vow.
CLIFFORD My gracious liege, this too much lenity
And harmful pity must be laid aside.
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To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
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?
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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:
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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.
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Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
And though man’s face be fearful to their eyes,
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,
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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
Should lose his birthright by his father’s fault,
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And long hereafter say unto his child,
‘What my great-grandfather and grandsire got
My careless father fondly gave away’?
Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
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Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
KING HENRY Full well hath Clifford play’d the orator,
Inferring arguments of mighty force.
But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
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That things evil got had ever bad success?
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!
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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 stands here!
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QUEEN MARGARET
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:
Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently.
Edward, kneel down.
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KING HENRY 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,
And in that quarrel use it to the death.
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CLIFFORD Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER 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,
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Proclaims him king, and many fly to him.
Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.
CLIFFORD
I would your highness would depart the field:
The Queen hath best success when you are absent.
QUEEN MARGARET
Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.
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KING HENRY
Why, that’s my fortune too: therefore I’ll stay.
NORTHUMBERLAND Be it with resolution then to fight.
PRINCE My royal father, cheer these noble lords,
And hearten those that fight in your defence.
Unsheathe your sword, good father: cry, ‘Saint George’.
March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE and soldiers.
EDWARD
Now, perjur’d Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace,
And set thy diadem upon my head;
Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
QUEEN MARGARET
Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy!
Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
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Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?
EDWARD I am his king, and he should bow his knee:
I was adopted heir by his consent:
Since when his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
You that are king, though he do wear the crown,
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Have caus’d him by new Act of Parliament
To blot out me, and put his own son in.
CLIFFORD And reason too:
Who should succeed the father but the son?
RICHARD Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!
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CLIFFORD Ay, Crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,
Or any he, the proudest of thy sort.
RICHARD
’Twas you that kill’d young Rutland, was it not?
CLIFFORD Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.
RICHARD For God’s sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
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WARWICK
What say’st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?
QUEEN MARGARET
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.
WARWICK
Then ’twas my turn to flee, and now ’tis thine.
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CLIFFORD You said so much before, and yet you fled.
WARWICK
’Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
NORTHUMBERLAND
No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.
RICHARD Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
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The execution of my big-swoln heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
CLIFFORD I slew thy father: call’st thou him a child?
RICHARD Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland;
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But ere sun set I’ll make thee curse the deed.
KING HENRY
Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
QUEEN MARGARET
Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.
KING HENRY I prithee give no limits to my tongue:
I am a king, and privileg’d to speak.
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CLIFFORD
My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
Cannot be cur’d by words; therefore be still.
RICHARD Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
By Him that made us all, I am resolv’d
That Clifford’s manhood lies upon his tongue.
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EDWARD 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.
WARWICK If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
For York in justice puts his armour on.
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PRINCE If that be right which Warwick says is right,
There is no wrong, but every thing is right.
RICHARD Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
For well I wot thou hast thy mother’s tongue.
QUEEN MARGARET
But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam,
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But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,
Mark’d by the Destinies to be avoided,
As venom toads, or lizards’ dreadful stings.
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 234
