Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Not Peer Reviewed

Henry VI, Part 3 (Folio 1, 1623)



150
The third Part of Henry the Sixt.

Thou Richard shalt to the Duke of Norfolke,
And tell him priuily of our intent.
You Edward shall vnto my Lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise.
355In them I trust: for they are Souldiors,
Wittie, courteous, liberall, full of spirit.
While you are thus imploy'd, what resteth more?
But that I seeke occasion how to rise,
And yet the King not priuie to my Drift,
360Nor any of the House of Lancaster.

Enter Gabriel.

But stay, what Newes? Why comm'st thou in such
poste?
Gabriel. The Queene,
365With all the Northerne Earles and Lords,
Intend here to besiege you in your Castle.
She is hard by, with twentie thousand men:
And therefore fortifie your Hold, my Lord.
Yorke. I, with my Sword.
370What? think'st thou, that we feare them?
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me,
My Brother Mountague shall poste to London.
Let Noble Warwicke, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we haue left Protectors of the King,
375With powrefull Pollicie strengthen themselues,
And trust not simple Henry, nor his Oathes.
Mount. Brother, I goe: Ile winne them, feare it not.
And thus most humbly I doe take my leaue.
Exit Mountague.

380
Enter Mortimer, and his Brother.

York. Sir Iohn, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine Vnckles,
You are come to Sandall in a happie houre.
The Armie of the Queene meane to besiege vs.
Iohn. Shee shall not neede, wee'le meete her in the
385field.
Yorke. What, with fiue thousand men?
Richard. I, with fiue hundred, Father, for a neede.
A Woman's generall: what should we feare?
A March afarre off.
390Edward. I heare their Drummes:
Let's set our men in order,
And issue forth, and bid them Battaile straight.
Yorke. Fiue men to twentie: though the oddes be great,
I doubt not, Vnckle, of our Victorie.
395Many a Battaile haue I wonne in France,
When as the Enemie hath beene tenne to one:
Why should I not now haue the like successe?
Alarum.
Exit.

Enter Rutland, and his Tutor.

400 Rutland. Ah, whither shall I flye, to scape their hands?
Ah Tutor, looke where bloody Clifford comes.

Enter Clifford.
Clifford. Chaplaine away, thy Priesthood saues thy life.
As for the Brat of this accursed Duke,
405Whose Father slew my Father, he shall dye.
Tutor. And I, my Lord, will beare him company.
Clifford. Souldiers, away with him.
Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child,
Least thou be hated both of God and Man.
Exit.
410Clifford. How now? is he dead alreadie?
Or is it feare, that makes him close his eyes?
Ile open them.
Rutland. So looks the pent-vp Lyon o're the Wretch,
That trembles vnder his deuouring Pawes:
415And so he walkes, insulting o're his Prey,
And so he comes, to rend his Limbes asunder.
Ah gentle Clifford, kill me with thy Sword,
And not with such a cruell threatning Looke.
Sweet Clifford heare me speake, before I dye:
420I am too meane a subiect for thy Wrath,
Be thou reueng'd on men, and let me liue.
Clifford. In vaine thou speak'st, poore Boy:
My Fathers blood hath stopt the passage
Where thy words should enter.
425Rutland. Then let my Fathers blood open it againe,
He is a man, and Clifford cope with him.
Clifford. Had I thy Brethren here, their liues and thine
Were not reuenge sufficient for me:
No, if I digg'd vp thy fore-fathers Graues,
430And hung their rotten Coffins vp in Chaynes,
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.
The sight of any of the House of Yorke,
Is as a furie to torment my Soule:
And till I root out their accursed Line,
435And leaue not one aliue, I liue in Hell.
Therefore---
Rutland. Oh let me pray, before I take my death:
To thee I pray; sweet Clifford pitty me.
Clifford. Such pitty as my Rapiers point affords.
440 Rutland. I neuer did thee harme: why wilt thou slay
me?
Clifford. Thy Father hath.
Rutland. But 'twas ere I was borne.
Thou hast one Sonne, for his sake pitty me,
445Least in reuenge thereof, sith God is iust,
He be as miserably slaine as I.
Ah, let me liue in Prison all my dayes,
And when I giue occasion of offence,
Then let me dye, for now thou hast no cause.
450 Clifford. No cause? thy Father slew my Father: there-
fore dye.
Rutland. Dij faciant laudis summa sit ista tuæ.
Clifford. Plantagenet, I come Plantagenet:
And this thy Sonnes blood cleauing to my Blade,
455Shall rust vpon my Weapon, till thy blood
Congeal'd with this, doe make me wipe off both.
Exit.

Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of Yorke.

Yorke. The Army of the Queene hath got the field:
My Vnckles both are slaine, in rescuing me;
460And all my followers, to the eager foe
Turne back, and flye, like Ships before the Winde,
Or Lambes pursu'd by hunger-starued Wolues.
My Sonnes, God knowes what hath bechanced them:
But this I know, they haue demean'd themselues
465Like men borne to Renowne, by Life or Death.
Three times did Richard make a Lane to me,
And thrice cry'de, Courage Father, fight it out:
And full as oft came Edward to my side,
With Purple Faulchion, painted to the Hilt,
470In blood of those that had encountred him:
And when the hardyest Warriors did retyre,
Richard cry'de, Charge, and giue no foot of ground,
And cry'de, A Crowne, or else a glorious Tombe,
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