The Third Part Of King Henry The Sixth

1 Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of York.
2 YORK.
3 The army of the Queen hath got the field.
4 My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
5 And all my followers to the eager foe
6 Turn back and fly like ships before the wind,
7 Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves.
8 My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them;
9 But this I know, they have demeaned themselves
10 Like men born to renown by life or death.
11 Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
12 And thrice cried “Courage, father, fight it out!”
13 And full as oft came Edward to my side
14 With purple falchion painted to the hilt
15 In blood of those that had encountered him;
16 And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
17 Richard cried “Charge, and give no foot of ground!”
18 And cried “A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
19 A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!”
20 With this we charged again; but, out, alas!
21 We budged again, as I have seen a swan
22 With bootless labour swim against the tide
23 And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
24 [_A short alarum within._]
25 Ah, hark, the fatal followers do pursue,
26 And I am faint and cannot fly their fury;
27 And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.
28 The sands are numbered that makes up my life;
29 Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
30 Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, Northumberland, the young Prince Edward
31 and Soldiers.
32 Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
33 I dare your quenchless fury to more rage.
34 I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
35 NORTHUMBERLAND.
36 Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
37 CLIFFORD.
38 Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm
39 With downright payment showed unto my father.
40 Now Phaëthon hath tumbled from his car,
41 And made an evening at the noontide prick.
42 YORK.
43 My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
44 A bird that will revenge upon you all;
45 And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,
46 Scorning whate’er you can afflict me with.
47 Why come you not? What, multitudes, and fear?
48 CLIFFORD.
49 So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
50 So doves do peck the falcon’s piercing talons;
51 So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
52 Breathe out invectives ’gainst the officers.
53 YORK.
54 O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
55 And in thy thought o’errun my former time;
56 And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face,
57 And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice
58 Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this.
59 CLIFFORD.
60 I will not bandy with thee word for word,
61 But buckle with thee blows twice two for one.
62 QUEEN MARGARET.
63 Hold, valiant Clifford; for a thousand causes
64 I would prolong awhile the traitor’s life.
65 Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland.
66 NORTHUMBERLAND.
67 Hold, Clifford, do not honour him so much
68 To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.
69 What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
70 For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
71 When he might spurn him with his foot away?
72 It is war’s prize to take all vantages,
73 And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
74 [_They lay hands on York, who struggles._]
75 CLIFFORD.
76 Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin.
77 NORTHUMBERLAND.
78 So doth the cony struggle in the net.
79 [_York is taken prisoner._]
80 YORK.
81 So triumph thieves upon their conquered booty;
82 So true men yield, with robbers so o’ermatched.
83 NORTHUMBERLAND.
84 What would your Grace have done unto him now?
85 QUEEN MARGARET.
86 Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
87 Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,
88 That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
89 Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
90 What, was it you that would be England’s king?
91 Was ’t you that revelled in our parliament
92 And made a preachment of your high descent?
93 Where are your mess of sons to back you now,
94 The wanton Edward and the lusty George?
95 And where’s that valiant crook-back prodigy,
96 Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
97 Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
98 Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
99 Look, York, I stained this napkin with the blood
100 That valiant Clifford with his rapier’s point
101 Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
102 And if thine eyes can water for his death,
103 I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
104 Alas, poor York, but that I hate thee deadly
105 I should lament thy miserable state.
106 I prithee grieve to make me merry, York;
107 Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
108 What, hath thy fiery heart so parched thine entrails
109 That not a tear can fall for Rutland’s death?
110 Why art thou patient, man? Thou shouldst be mad;
111 And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
112 Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
113 Thou would’st be fee’d, I see, to make me sport;
114 York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.
115 A crown for York! And, lords, bow low to him.
116 Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on.
117 [_Putting a paper crown on his head._]
118 Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king.
119 Ay, this is he that took King Henry’s chair,
120 And this is he was his adopted heir.
121 But how is it that great Plantagenet
122 Is crowned so soon and broke his solemn oath?
123 As I bethink me, you should not be king
124 Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death.
125 And will you pale your head in Henry’s glory,
126 And rob his temples of the diadem,
127 Now in his life, against your holy oath?
128 O, ’tis a fault too too unpardonable.
129 Off with the crown, and, with the crown, his head;
130 And whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.
131 CLIFFORD.
132 That is my office, for my father’s sake.
133 QUEEN MARGARET.
134 Nay, stay; let’s hear the orisons he makes.
135 YORK.
136 She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
137 Whose tongue more poisons than the adder’s tooth!
138 How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex
139 To triumph like an Amazonian trull
140 Upon their woes whom Fortune captivates!
141 But that thy face is vizard-like, unchanging,
142 Made impudent with use of evil deeds,
143 I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.
144 To tell thee whence thou cam’st, of whom derived,
145 Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.
146 Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,
147 Of both the Sicils, and Jerusalem,
148 Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
149 Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
150 It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;
151 Unless the adage must be verified,
152 That beggars mounted run their horse to death.
153 ’Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;
154 But God he knows thy share thereof is small.
155 ’Tis virtue that doth make them most admired;
156 The contrary doth make thee wondered at.
157 ’Tis government that makes them seem divine;
158 The want thereof makes thee abominable.
159 Thou art as opposite to every good
160 As the Antipodes are unto us,
161 Or as the south to the Septentrion.
162 O tiger’s heart wrapped in a woman’s hide!
163 How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
164 To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
165 And yet be seen to bear a woman’s face?
166 Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible;
167 Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
168 Bid’st thou me rage? Why, now thou hast thy wish:
169 Wouldst have me weep? Why, now thou hast thy will;
170 For raging wind blows up incessant showers,
171 And when the rage allays, the rain begins.
172 These tears are my sweet Rutland’s obsequies,
173 And every drop cries vengeance for his death
174 ’Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false Frenchwoman.
175 NORTHUMBERLAND.
176 Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so
177 That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.
178 YORK.
179 That face of his the hungry cannibals
180 Would not have touched, would not have stained with blood;
181 But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,
182 O, ten times more than tigers of Hyrcania.
183 See, ruthless queen, a hapless father’s tears.
184 This cloth thou dipped’st in blood of my sweet boy,
185 And I with tears do wash the blood away.
186 Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this;
187 And if thou tell’st the heavy story right,
188 Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;
189 Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears
190 And say “Alas, it was a piteous deed.”
191 There, take the crown, and with the crown my curse;
192 And in thy need such comfort come to thee
193 As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!
194 Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world,
195 My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
196 NORTHUMBERLAND.
197 Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin,
198 I should not for my life but weep with him,
199 To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.
200 QUEEN MARGARET.
201 What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
202 Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
203 And that will quickly dry thy melting tears.
204 CLIFFORD.
205 Here’s for my oath, here’s for my father’s death.
206 [_Stabbing him._]
207 QUEEN MARGARET.
208 And here’s to right our gentle-hearted king.
209 [_Stabbing him._]
210 YORK.
211 Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
212 My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee.
213 [_Dies._]
214 QUEEN MARGARET.
215 Off with his head, and set it on York gates;
216 So York may overlook the town of York.
217 [_Flourish. Exeunt._]