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  • Title: Henry VI, Part 3 (Octavo 1, 1595)

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Henry VI, Part 3 (Octavo 1, 1595)

    Enter Clifford wounded, with an
    arrow in his necke.
    Clif. Heere burnes my candell out,
    That whilst it lasted gaue king Henry light.
    Ah Lancaster, I feare thine ouerthrow,
    1285More then my bodies parting from my soule.
    My loue and feare glude manie friendes to thee,
    And now I die, that tough commixture melts.
    Impairing Henry strengthened misproud Yorke,
    The common people swarme like summer flies,
    And whither flies the Gnats but to the sun?
    1290And who shines now but Henries enemie?
    Oh Phoebus hadst thou neuer giuen consent,
    That Phaeton should checke thy fierie steedes,
    Thy burning carre had neuer scorcht the earth.
    And Henry hadst thou liu'd as kings should doe,
    1295And as thy father and his father did,
    Yorke, and Henrie the Sixt.
    Giuing no foot vnto the house of Yorke,
    I and ten thousand in this wofull land,
    Had left no mourning Widdowes for our deathes,
    1300And thou this daie hadst kept thy throne in peace.
    For what doth cherish weedes but gentle aire?
    And what makes robbers bold but lenitie?
    Bootlesse are plaintes, and curelesse are my woundes,
    No waie to flie, no strength to hold our flight,
    1305The foe is mercilesse and will not pittie me,
    And at their hands I haue deserude no pittie.
    The aire is got into my bleeding wounds,
    And much effuse of bloud doth make me faint,
    Come Yorke and Richard, Warwike and the rest,
    1310I stabde your fathers, now come split my brest.
    Enter Edward, Richard and Warwike,
    and Souldiers.
    Edw. Thus farre our fortunes keepes an vpward
    Course, and we are grast with wreathes of victorie.
    1315Some troopes pursue the bloudie minded Queene,
    That now towards Barwike doth poste amaine,
    But thinke you that Clifford is fled awaie with them?
    1320War. No, tis impossible he should escape,
    For though before his face I speake the words,
    Your brother Richard markt him for the graue.
    And where so ere he be I warrant him dead.
    Clifford grones and then dies.
    Edw. Harke, what soule is this that takes his heauy leaue?
    1325Rich. A deadlie grone, like life and deaths departure.
    Edw. See who it is, and now the battailes ended,
    Friend or foe, let him be friendlie vsed.
    Rich. Reuerse that doome of mercie, for tis Clifford.
    C4 Who
    The Tragedie of Richard D. of
    1330Who kild our tender brother Rutland,
    And stabd our princelie father Duke of Yorke.
    1335War. From off the gates of Yorke fetch downe the
    Head, Your fathers head which Clifford placed there,
    Insteed of that, let his supplie the roome.
    Measure for measure must be answered.
    Edw. Bring forth that fatall skrichowle to
    our house,
    1340That nothing sung to vs but bloud and death,
    Now his euill boding tongue no more shall speake.
    War. I thinke his vnderstanding is bereft.
    Say Clifford, doest thou know who speakes to thee?
    1345Darke cloudie death oreshades his beames of life,
    And he nor sees nor heares vs what we saie.
    Rich. Oh would he did, and so perhaps he doth,
    And tis his policie that in the time of death,
    He might auoid such bitter stormes as he
    1350In his houre of death did giue vnto our father.
    George. Richard if thou thinkest so, vex him with ea-
    ger words.
    Rich. Clifford, aske mercie and obtaine no grace.
    Edw. Clifford, repent in bootlesse penitence.
    1355War. Clifford deuise excuses for thy fault.
    George. Whilst we deuise fell tortures for thy fault.
    Rich. Thou pittiedst Yorke, and I am sonne to Yorke.
    Edw. Thou pittiedst Rutland, and I will pittie thee.
    George. Wheres captaine Margaret to fence you
    1360War. They mocke thee Clifford, sweare as thou wast
    Rich. What not an oth? Nay, then I know hees dead,
    Yorke, and Henrie the Sixt.
    Tis hard, when Clifford cannot foord his friend an oath.
    By this I know hees dead, and by my soule,
    1365Would this right hand buy but an howres life,
    That I in all contempt might raile at him.
    Ide cut it off and with the issuing bloud,
    Stifle the villaine whose instanched thirst,
    Yorke and young Rutland could not satisfie.
    1370War. I, but he is dead, off with the traitors head,
    And reare it in the place your fathers stands.
    And now to London with triumphant march,
    There to be crowned Englands lawfull king.
    From thence shall Warwike crosse the seas to France,
    1375And aske the ladie Bona for thy Queene,
    So shalt thou sinew both these landes togither,
    And hauing France thy friend thou needst not dread,
    The scattered foe that hopes to rise againe.
    And though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
    1380Yet looke to haue them busie to offend thine eares.
    First Ile see the coronation done,
    And afterward Ile crosse the seas to France,
    To effect this marriage if it please my Lord.
    Edw. Euen as thou wilt good Warwike let it be.
    1385But first before we goe, George kneele downe.
    We here create thee Duke of Clarence, and girt thee with
    the sword.
    Our younger brother Richard Duke of Glocester.
    1390Warwike as my selfe shal do & vndo as him pleaseth best.
    Rich. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloster,
    For Glosters Dukedome is too ominous.
    War. Tush thats a childish obseruation.
    Richard be Duke of Gloster. Now to London.
    The Tragedie of Richard D. of
    1395To see these honors in possession. Exeunt Omnes.