Contents
Act 3
Scene 2 | Bury St. Edmund's. A room of state.
|
Enter certain Murderers, hastily
3.2.1 First Murderer
Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know
We have dispatch'd the duke, as he commanded.
3.2.3 Second Murderer
O that it were to do! What have we done?
Didst ever hear a man so penitent?
Enter SUFFOLK
3.2.5 First Murderer
Here comes my lord.
3.2.6 SUFFOLK
Now, sirs, have you dispatch'd this thing?
3.2.7 First Murderer
Ay, my good lord, he's dead.
3.2.8 SUFFOLK
Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house;
I will reward you for this venturous deed.
The king and all the peers are here at hand.
Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well,
According as I gave directions?
3.2.13 First Murderer
'Tis, my good lord.
3.2.14 SUFFOLK
Away! be gone.
Exeunt Murderers
Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SOMERSET, with Attendants
3.2.15 KING HENRY VI
Go, call our uncle to our presence straight;
Say we intend to try his grace today.
If he be guilty, as 'tis published.
3.2.18 SUFFOLK
I'll call him presently, my noble lord.
Exit
3.2.19 KING HENRY VI
Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester
Than from true evidence of good esteem
He be approved in practise culpable.
3.2.23 QUEEN MARGARET
God forbid any malice should prevail,
That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
3.2.26 KING HENRY VI
I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.
Re-enter SUFFOLK
How now! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?
Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?
3.2.29 SUFFOLK
Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead.
3.2.30 QUEEN MARGARET
Marry, God forfend!
3.2.31 CARDINAL
God's secret judgment: I did dream tonight
The duke was dumb and could not speak a word.
KING HENRY VI swoons
3.2.33 QUEEN MARGARET
How fares my lord? Help, lords! the king is dead.
3.2.34 SOMERSET
Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.
3.2.35 QUEEN MARGARET
Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!
3.2.36 SUFFOLK
He doth revive again: madam, be patient.
3.2.37 KING HENRY VI
O heavenly God!
3.2.38 QUEEN MARGARET
How fares my gracious lord?
3.2.39 SUFFOLK
Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!
3.2.40 KING HENRY VI
What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a raven's note,
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers;
And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chase away the first-conceived sound?
Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words;
Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting.
Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!
Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny
Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding:
Yet do not go away: come, basilisk,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight;
For in the shade of death I shall find joy;
In life but double death, now Gloucester's dead.
3.2.57 QUEEN MARGARET
Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus?
Although the duke was enemy to him,
Yet he most Christian-like laments his death:
And for myself, foe as he was to me,
Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans
Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,
I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,
And all to have the noble duke alive.
What know I how the world may deem of me?
For it is known we were but hollow friends:
It may be judged I made the duke away;
So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded,
And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach.
This get I by his death: ay me, unhappy!
To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!
3.2.73 KING HENRY VI
Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!
3.2.74 QUEEN MARGARET
Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome leper; look on me.
What! art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?
Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb?
Why, then, dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy.
Erect his statue and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea
And twice by awkward wind from England's bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well forewarning wind
Did seem to say 'Seek not a scorpion's nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind shore'?
What did I then, but cursed the gentle gusts
And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves:
And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock
Yet Æolus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee:
The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me,
Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore,
With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness:
The splitting rocks cower'd in the sinking sands
And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck,
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,
And threw it towards thy land: the sea received it,
And so I wish'd thy body might my heart:
And even with this I lost fair England's view
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart
And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles,
For losing ken of Albion's wished coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue,
The agent of thy foul inconstancy,
To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father's acts commenced in burning Troy!
Am I not witch'd like her? or thou not false like him?
Ay me, I can no more! die, Margaret!
For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
Noise within. Enter WARWICK, SALISBURY, and many Commons
3.2.123 WARWICK
It is reported, mighty sovereign,
That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd
By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means.
The commons, like an angry hive of bees
That want their leader, scatter up and down
And care not who they sting in his revenge.
Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.
3.2.131 KING HENRY VI
That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true;
But how he died God knows, not Henry:
Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
And comment then upon his sudden death.
3.2.135 WARWICK
That shall I do, my liege. Stay, Salisbury,
With the rude multitude till I return.
Exit
3.2.137 KING HENRY VI
O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts,
My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul
Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
If my suspect be false, forgive me, God,
For judgment only doth belong to thee.
Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of salt tears,
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling:
But all in vain are these mean obsequies;
And to survey his dead and earthly image,
What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
Re-enter WARWICK and others, bearing GLOUCESTER'S body on a bed
3.2.150 WARWICK
Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.
3.2.151 KING HENRY VI
That is to see how deep my grave is made;
For with his soul fled all my worldly solace,
For seeing him I see my life in death.
3.2.154 WARWICK
As surely as my soul intends to live
With that dread King that took our state upon him
To free us from his father's wrathful curse,
I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.
3.2.159 SUFFOLK
A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?
3.2.161 WARWICK
See how the blood is settled in his face.
Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale and bloodless,
Being all descended to the labouring heart;
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy;
Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth
To blush and beautify the cheek again.
But see, his face is black and full of blood,
His eye-balls further out than when he lived,
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;
His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretched with struggling;
His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd
And tugg'd for life and was by strength subdued:
Look, on the sheets his hair you see, is sticking;
His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.
It cannot be but he was murder'd here;
The least of all these signs were probable.
3.2.180 SUFFOLK
Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?
Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;
And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.
3.2.183 WARWICK
But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes,
And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep:
'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend;
And 'tis well seen he found an enemy.
3.2.187 QUEEN MARGARET
Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen
As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.
3.2.189 WARWICK
Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh
And sees fast by a butcher with an axe,
But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest,
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
3.2.196 QUEEN MARGARET
Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?
Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?
3.2.198 SUFFOLK
I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men;
But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,
That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart
That slanders me with murder's crimson badge.
Say, if thou darest, proud Lord of Warwick-shire,
That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.
Exeunt CARDINAL, SOMERSET, and others
3.2.204 WARWICK
What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
3.2.205 QUEEN MARGARET
He dares not calm his contumelious spirit
Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,
Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.
3.2.208 WARWICK
Madam, be still; with reverence may I say;
For every word you speak in his behalf
Is slander to your royal dignity.
3.2.211 SUFFOLK
Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanor!
If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,
Thy mother took into her blameful bed
Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock
Was graft with crab-tree slip; whose fruit thou art,
And never of the Nevils' noble race.
3.2.217 WARWICK
But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee
And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,
I would, false murderous coward, on thy knee
Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech,
And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st
That thou thyself was born in bastardy;
And after all this fearful homage done,
Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,
Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men!
3.2.228 SUFFOLK
Thou shall be waking well I shed thy blood,
If from this presence thou darest go with me.
3.2.230 WARWICK
Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:
Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee
And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost.
Exeunt SUFFOLK and WARWICK
3.2.233 KING HENRY VI
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
A noise within
3.2.237 QUEEN MARGARET
What noise is this?
Re-enter SUFFOLK and WARWICK, with their weapons drawn
3.2.238 KING HENRY VI
Why, how now, lords! your wrathful weapons drawn
Here in our presence! dare you be so bold?
Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?
3.2.241 SUFFOLK
The traitorous Warwick with the men of Bury
Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.
3.2.243 SALISBURY
[To the Commons, entering] Sirs, stand apart;
the king shall know your mind.
Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,
Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death,
Or banished fair England's territories,
They will by violence tear him from your palace
And torture him with grievous lingering death.
They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died;
They say, in him they fear your highness' death;
And mere instinct of love and loyalty,
Free from a stubborn opposite intent,
As being thought to contradict your liking,
Makes them thus forward in his banishment.
They say, in care of your most royal person,
That if your highness should intend to sleep
And charge that no man should disturb your rest
In pain of your dislike or pain of death,
Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict,
Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue,
That slily glided towards your majesty,
It were but necessary you were waked,
Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber,
The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal;
And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,
That they will guard you, whether you will or no,
From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is,
With whose envenomed and fatal sting,
Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
They say, is shamefully bereft of life.
3.2.272 Commons
[Within] An answer from the king, my
Lord of Salisbury!
3.2.274 SUFFOLK
'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
Could send such message to their sovereign:
But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
To show how quaint an orator you are:
But all the honour Salisbury hath won
Is, that he was the lord ambassador
Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.
3.2.281 Commons
[Within] An answer from the king, or we will all break in!
3.2.282 KING HENRY VI
Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me.
I thank them for their tender loving care;
And had I not been cited so by them,
Yet did I purpose as they do entreat;
For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy
Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means:
And therefore, by His majesty I swear,
Whose far unworthy deputy I am,
He shall not breathe infection in this air
But three days longer, on the pain of death.
Exit SALISBURY
3.2.292 QUEEN MARGARET
O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!
3.2.293 KING HENRY VI
Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk!
No more, I say: if thou dost plead for him,
Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
Had I but said, I would have kept my word,
But when I swear, it is irrevocable.
If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found
On any ground that I am ruler of,
The world shall not be ransom for thy life.
Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me;
I have great matters to impart to thee.
Exeunt all but QUEEN MARGARET and SUFFOLK
3.2.303 QUEEN MARGARET
Mischance and sorrow go along with you!
Heart's discontent and sour affliction
Be playfellows to keep you company!
There's two of you; the devil make a third!
And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!
3.2.308 SUFFOLK
Cease, gentle queen, these execrations,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
3.2.310 QUEEN MARGARET
Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch!
Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?
3.2.312 SUFFOLK
A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them?
Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,
I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
With full as many signs of deadly hate,
As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave:
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract;
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
And even now my burthen'd heart would break,
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!
Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks!
Their softest touch as smart as lizards' sting!
Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss,
And boding screech-owls make the concert full!
All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell –
3.2.332 QUEEN MARGARET
Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself;
And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass,
Or like an overcharged gun, recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thyself.
3.2.336 SUFFOLK
You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?
Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
Well could I curse away a winter's night,
Though standing naked on a mountain top,
Where biting cold would never let grass grow,
And think it but a minute spent in sport.
3.2.342 QUEEN MARGARET
O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woful monuments.
O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
That thou mightst think upon these by the seal,
Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!
So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by,
As one that surfeits thinking on a want.
I will repeal thee, or, be well assured,
Adventure to be banished myself:
And banished I am, if but from thee.
Go; speak not to me; even now be gone.
O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd
Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves,
Loather a hundred times to part than die.
Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee!
3.2.360 SUFFOLK
Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished;
Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence;
A wilderness is populous enough,
So Suffolk had thy heavenly company:
For where thou art, there is the world itself,
With every several pleasure in the world,
And where thou art not, desolation.
I can no more: live thou to joy thy life;
Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest.
Enter VAUX
3.2.370 QUEEN MARGARET
Wither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee?
3.2.371 VAUX
To signify unto his majesty
That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death;
For suddenly a grievous sickness took him,
That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air,
Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.
Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost
Were by his side; sometime he calls the king,
And whispers to his pillow, as to him,
The secrets of his overcharged soul;
And I am sent to tell his majesty
That even now he cries aloud for him.
3.2.382 QUEEN MARGARET
Go tell this heavy message to the king.
Exit VAUX
Ay me! what is this world! what news are these!
But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?
Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
And with the southern clouds contend in tears,
Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows?
Now get thee hence: the king, thou know'st, is coming;
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.
3.2.391 SUFFOLK
If I depart from thee, I cannot live;
And in thy sight to die, what were it else
But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
Here could I breathe my soul into the air,
As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
Dying with mother's dug between its lips:
Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad,
And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,
To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth;
So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul,
Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
And then it lived in sweet Elysium.
To die by thee were but to die in jest;
From thee to die were torture more than death:
O, let me stay, befall what may befall!
3.2.406 QUEEN MARGARET
Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive,
It is applied to a deathful wound.
To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee;
For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe,
I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.
3.2.412 QUEEN MARGARET
And take my heart with thee.
3.2.413 SUFFOLK
A jewel, lock'd into the wofull'st cask
That ever did contain a thing of worth.
Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we
This way fall I to death.
3.2.417 QUEEN MARGARET
This way for me.
Exeunt severally
Contents
Act 4
Scene 1 | The coast of Kent.
|
Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners
4.1.1 Captain
The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night;
Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,
Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;
And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
4.1.15 First Gentleman
What is my ransom, master? let me know.
4.1.16 Master
A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
4.1.17 Master's Mate
And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
4.1.18 Captain
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall:
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!
4.1.23 First Gentleman
I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
4.1.24 Second Gentleman
And so will I and write home for it straight.
4.1.25 WHITMORE
I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die;
To SUFFOLK
And so should these, if I might have my will.
4.1.28 Captain
Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
4.1.29 SUFFOLK
Look on my George; I am a gentleman:
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
4.1.31 WHITMORE
And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now! why start'st thou? what, doth
death affright?
4.1.34 SUFFOLK
Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
A cunning man did calculate my birth
And told me that by water I should die:
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.
4.1.39 WHITMORE
Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
Never yet did base dishonour blur our name,
But with our sword we wiped away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
4.1.45 SUFFOLK
Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
4.1.47 WHITMORE
The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!
4.1.48 SUFFOLK
Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke:
Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I?
4.1.50 Captain
But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
4.1.51 SUFFOLK
Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
The honourable blood of Lancaster,
Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?
Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule
And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
How often hast thou waited at my cup,
Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board.
When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
Remember it and let it make thee crest-fall'n,
Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride;
How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
And duly waited for my coming forth?
This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
4.1.66 WHITMORE
Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
4.1.67 Captain
First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
4.1.68 SUFFOLK
Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.
4.1.69 Captain
Convey him hence and on our longboat's side
Strike off his head.
4.1.71 SUFFOLK
Thou darest not, for thy own.
4.1.72 Captain
Yes, Pole.
4.1.74 Captain
Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death,
Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again:
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
For daring to affy a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
By devilish policy art thou grown great,
And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged
With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
The false revolting Normans thorough thee
Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts,
And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
By shameful murder of a guiltless king
And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours
Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
The commons here in Kent are up in arms:
And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
Is crept into the palace of our king.
And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.
4.1.108 SUFFOLK
O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.
Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob beehives:
It is impossible that I should die
By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
Thy words move rage and not remorse in me:
I go of message from the queen to France;
I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.
4.1.119 Captain
Walter, –
4.1.120 WHITMORE
Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
4.1.121 SUFFOLK
Gelidus timor occupat artus it is thee I fear.
4.1.122 WHITMORE
Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?
4.1.124 First Gentleman
My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
4.1.125 SUFFOLK
Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
Used to command, untaught to plead for favour.
Far be it we should honour such as these
With humble suit: no, rather let my head
Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
Save to the God of heaven and to my king;
And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear:
More can I bear than you dare execute.
4.1.135 Captain
Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
4.1.136 SUFFOLK
Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
That this my death may never be forgot!
Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk
4.1.143 Captain
And as for these whose ransom we have set,
It is our pleasure one of them depart;
Therefore come you with us and let him go.
Exeunt all but the First Gentleman
Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK's body
4.1.146 WHITMORE
There let his head and lifeless body lie,
Until the queen his mistress bury it.
Exit
4.1.148 First Gentleman
O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
His body will I bear unto the king:
If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
So will the queen, that living held him dear.
Exit with the body
Contents
Act 4
Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND
4.2.1 BEVIS
Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a lath;
they have been up these two days.
4.2.3 HOLLAND
They have the more need to sleep now, then.
4.2.4 BEVIS
I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress
the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.
4.2.6 HOLLAND
So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say it
was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up.
4.2.8 BEVIS
O miserable age! virtue is not regarded in handicrafts-men.
4.2.9 HOLLAND
The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.
4.2.10 BEVIS
Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen.
4.2.11 HOLLAND
True; and yet it is said, labour in thy vocation;
which is as much to say as, let the magistrates be
labouring men; and therefore should we be
magistrates.
4.2.15 BEVIS
Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a
brave mind than a hard hand.
4.2.17 HOLLAND
I see them! I see them! there's Best's son, the
tanner of Wingham, –
4.2.19 BEVIS
He shall have the skin of our enemies, to make
dog's-leather of.
4.2.21 HOLLAND
And Dick the Butcher, –
4.2.22 BEVIS
Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's
throat cut like a calf.
4.2.24 HOLLAND
And Smith the weaver, –
4.2.25 BEVIS
Argo, their thread of life is spun.
4.2.26 HOLLAND
Come, come, let's fall in with them.
Drum. Enter CADE, DICK the Butcher, SMITH the Weaver, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers
4.2.27 CADE
We John Cade, so termed of our supposed father, –
4.2.28 DICK
[Aside] Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.
4.2.29 CADE
For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with
the spirit of putting down kings and princes,
– Command silence.
4.2.33 CADE
My father was a Mortimer, –
4.2.34 DICK
[Aside] He was an honest man, and a good
bricklayer.
4.2.36 CADE
My mother a Plantagenet, –
4.2.37 DICK
[Aside] I knew her well; she was a midwife.
4.2.38 CADE
My wife descended of the Lacies, –
4.2.39 DICK
[Aside] She was, indeed, a pedler's daughter, and
sold many laces.
4.2.41 SMITH
[Aside] But now of late, notable to travel with her
furred pack, she washes bucks here at home.
4.2.43 CADE
Therefore am I of an honourable house.
4.2.44 DICK
[Aside] Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable;
and there was he borne, under a hedge, for his
father had never a house but the cage.
4.2.47 CADE
Valiant I am.
4.2.48 SMITH
[Aside] A' must needs; for beggary is valiant.
4.2.49 CADE
I am able to endure much.
4.2.50 DICK
[Aside] No question of that; for I have seen him
whipped three market-days together.
4.2.52 CADE
I fear neither sword nor fire.
4.2.53 SMITH
[Aside] He need not fear the sword; for his coat is of proof.
4.2.54 DICK
[Aside] But methinks he should stand in fear of
fire, being burnt i' the hand for stealing of sheep.
4.2.56 CADE
Be brave, then; for your captain is brave, and vows
reformation. There shall be in England seven
halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped
pot shall have ten hoops and I will make it felony
to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in
common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to
grass: and when I am king, as king I will be, –
4.2.63 ALL
God save your majesty!
4.2.64 CADE
I thank you, good people: there shall be no money;
all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will
apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree
like brothers and worship me their lord.
4.2.68 DICK
The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
4.2.69 CADE
Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable
thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should
be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled
o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings:
but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal
once to a thing, and I was never mine own man
since. How now! who's there?
Enter some, bringing forward the Clerk of Chatham
4.2.76 SMITH
The clerk of Chatham: he can write and read and
cast accompt.
4.2.79 SMITH
We took him setting of boys' copies.
4.2.80 CADE
Here's a villain!
4.2.81 SMITH
Has a book in his pocket with red letters in't.
4.2.82 CADE
Nay, then, he is a conjurer.
4.2.83 DICK
Nay, he can make obligations, and write court-hand.
4.2.84 CADE
I am sorry for't: the man is a proper man, of mine
honour; unless I find him guilty, he shall not die.
Come hither, sirrah, I must examine thee: what is thy name?
4.2.88 DICK
They use to write it on the top of letters: 'twill
go hard with you.
4.2.90 CADE
Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name? or
hast thou a mark to thyself, like an honest
plain-dealing man?
4.2.93 Clerk
Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up
that I can write my name.
4.2.95 ALL
He hath confessed: away with him! he's a villain
and a traitor.
4.2.97 CADE
Away with him, I say! hang him with his pen and
ink-horn about his neck.
Exit one with the Clerk
Enter MICHAEL
4.2.99 MICHAEL
Where's our general?
4.2.100 CADE
Here I am, thou particular fellow.
4.2.101 MICHAEL
Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his
brother are hard by, with the king's forces.
4.2.103 CADE
Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He
shall be encountered with a man as good as himself:
he is but a knight, is a'?
4.2.107 CADE
To equal him, I will make myself a knight presently.
Kneels
Rise up Sir John Mortimer.
Rises
Now have at him!
Enter SIR HUMPHREY and WILLIAM STAFFORD, with drum and soldiers
4.2.110 SIR HUMPHREY
Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,
Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down;
Home to your cottages, forsake this groom:
The king is merciful, if you revolt.
4.2.114 WILLIAM STAFFORD
But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood,
If you go forward; therefore yield, or die.
4.2.116 CADE
As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not:
It is to you, good people, that I speak,
Over whom, in time to come, I hope to reign;
For I am rightful heir unto the crown.
4.2.120 SIR HUMPHREY
Villain, thy father was a plasterer;
And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not?
4.2.122 CADE
And Adam was a gardener.
4.2.123 WILLIAM STAFFORD
And what of that?
4.2.124 CADE
Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not?
4.2.126 SIR HUMPHREY
Ay, sir.
4.2.127 CADE
By her he had two children at one birth.
4.2.128 WILLIAM STAFFORD
That's false.
4.2.129 CADE
Ay, there's the question; but I say, 'tis true:
The elder of them, being put to nurse,
Was by a beggar-woman stolen away;
And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,
Became a bricklayer when he came to age:
His son am I; deny it, if you can.
4.2.135 DICK
Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall be king.
4.2.136 SMITH
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and
the bricks are alive at this day to testify it;
therefore deny it not.
4.2.139 SIR HUMPHREY
And will you credit this base drudge's words,
That speaks he knows not what?
4.2.141 ALL
Ay, marry, will we; therefore get ye gone.
4.2.142 WILLIAM STAFFORD
Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this.
4.2.143 CADE
[Aside] He lies, for I invented it myself.
Go to, sirrah, tell the king from me, that, for his
father's sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys
went to span-counter for French crowns, I am content
he shall reign; but I'll be protector over him.
4.2.148 DICK
And furthermore, well have the Lord Say's head for
selling the dukedom of Maine.
4.2.150 CADE
And good reason; for thereby is England mained, and
fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance holds
it up. Fellow kings, I tell you that that Lord Say
hath gelded the commonwealth, and made it an eunuch:
and more than that, he can speak French; and
therefore he is a traitor.
4.2.156 SIR HUMPHREY
O gross and miserable ignorance!
4.2.157 CADE
Nay, answer, if you can: the Frenchmen are our
enemies; go to, then, I ask but this: can he that
speaks with the tongue of an enemy be a good
counsellor, or no?
4.2.161 ALL
No, no; and therefore we'll have his head.
4.2.162 WILLIAM STAFFORD
Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,
Assail them with the army of the king.
4.2.164 SIR HUMPHREY
Herald, away; and throughout every town
Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;
That those which fly before the battle ends
May, even in their wives' and children's sight,
Be hang'd up for example at their doors:
And you that be the king's friends, follow me.
Exeunt WILLIAM STAFFORD and SIR HUMPHREY, and soldiers
4.2.170 CADE
And you that love the commons, follow me.
Now show yourselves men; 'tis for liberty.
We will not leave one lord, one gentleman:
Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon;
For they are thrifty honest men, and such
As would, but that they dare not, take our parts.
4.2.176 DICK
They are all in order and march toward us.
4.2.177 CADE
But then are we in order when we are most
out of order. Come, march forward.
Exeunt
Contents
Act 4
Scene 7 | London. Smithfield.
|
Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE is slain, and all the rest. Then enter CADE, with his company.
4.7.1 CADE
So, sirs: now go some and pull down the Savoy;
others to the inns of court; down with them all.
4.7.3 DICK
I have a suit unto your lordship.
4.7.4 CADE
Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.
4.7.5 DICK
Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.
4.7.6 HOLLAND
[Aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law, then; for he was
thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole
yet.
4.7.9 SMITH
[Aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law for his
breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.
4.7.11 CADE
I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, burn
all the records of the realm: my mouth shall be
the parliament of England.
4.7.14 HOLLAND
[Aside] Then we are like to have biting statutes,
unless his teeth be pulled out.
4.7.16 CADE
And henceforward all things shall be in common.
Enter a Messenger
4.7.17 Messenger
My lord, a prize, a prize! here's the Lord Say,
which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay
one and twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the
pound, the last subsidy.
Enter BEVIS, with Lord SAY
4.7.21 CADE
Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah,
thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! now
art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction
regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty for
giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the
dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these
presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I
am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such
filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously
corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a
grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers
had no other books but the score and the tally, thou
hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to
the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a
paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou
hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and
a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian
ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed
justices of peace, to call poor men before them
about matters they were not able to answer.
Moreover, thou hast put them in prison; and because
they could not read, thou hast hanged them; when,
indeed, only for that cause they have been most
worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not?
4.7.46 CADE
Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear a
cloak, when honester men than thou go in their hose
and doublets.
4.7.49 DICK
And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example,
that am a butcher.
4.7.51 SAY
You men of Kent, –
4.7.52 DICK
What say you of Kent?
4.7.53 SAY
Nothing but this; 'tis 'bona terra, mala gens.'
4.7.54 CADE
Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin.
4.7.55 SAY
Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
Is term'd the civil'st place of this isle:
Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy;
Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy,
Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
Justice with favour have I always done;
Prayers and tears have moved me, gifts could never.
When have I aught exacted at your hands,
But to maintain the king, the realm and you?
Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
Because my book preferr'd me to the king,
And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits,
You cannot but forbear to murder me:
This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings
For your behoof, –
4.7.75 CADE
Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?
4.7.76 SAY
Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck
Those that I never saw and struck them dead.
4.7.78 BEVIS
O monstrous coward! what, to come behind folks?
4.7.79 SAY
These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.
4.7.80 CADE
Give him a box o' the ear and that will make 'em red again.
4.7.81 SAY
Long sitting to determine poor men's causes
Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.
4.7.83 CADE
Ye shall have a hempen caudle, then, and the help of hatchet.
4.7.84 DICK
Why dost thou quiver, man?
4.7.85 SAY
The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.
4.7.86 CADE
Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, I'll be even
with you: I'll see if his head will stand steadier
on a pole, or no. Take him away, and behead him.
4.7.89 SAY
Tell me wherein have I offended most?
Have I affected wealth or honour? speak.
Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
Whom have I injured, that ye seek my death?
These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding,
This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
O, let me live!
4.7.97 CADE
[Aside] I feel remorse in myself with his words;
but I'll bridle it: he shall die, an it be but for
pleading so well for his life. Away with him! he
has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not o'
God's name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike
off his head presently; and then break into his
son-in-law's house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off
his head, and bring them both upon two poles hither.
4.7.105 ALL
It shall be done.
4.7.106 SAY
Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers,
God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
How would it fare with your departed souls?
And therefore yet relent, and save my life.
4.7.110 CADE
Away with him! and do as I command ye.
Exeunt some with Lord SAY
The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head
on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there
shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me
her maidenhead ere they have it: men shall hold of
me in capite; and we charge and command that their
wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell.
4.7.117 DICK
My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and take up
commodities upon our bills?
4.7.119 CADE
Marry, presently.
Re-enter one with the heads
4.7.121 CADE
But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another,
for they loved well when they were alive. Now part
them again, lest they consult about the giving up of
some more towns in France. Soldiers, defer the
spoil of the city until night: for with these borne
before us, instead of maces, will we ride through
the streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away!
Exeunt
Contents
Act 4
Scene 10 | Kent. IDEN's garden.
|
Enter CADE
4.10.1 CADE
Fie on ambition! fie on myself, that have a sword,
and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I
hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for
all the country is laid for me; but now am I so
hungry that if I might have a lease of my life for a
thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore,
on a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to
see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another
while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach
this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet'
was born to do me good: for many a time, but for a
sallet, my brainpan had been cleft with a brown
bill; and many a time, when I have been dry and
bravely marching, it hath served me instead of a
quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet'
must serve me to feed on.
Enter IDEN
4.10.17 IDEN
Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court,
And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
This small inheritance my father left me
Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.
I seek not to wax great by others' waning,
Or gather wealth, I care not, with what envy:
Sufficeth that I have maintains my state
And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.
4.10.25 CADE
Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a
stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave.
Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand
crowns of the king carrying my head to him: but
I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow
my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part.
4.10.31 IDEN
Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,
I know thee not; why, then, should I betray thee?
Is't not enough to break into my garden,
And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds,
Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,
But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?
4.10.37 CADE
Brave thee! ay, by the best blood that ever was
broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I
have eat no meat these five days; yet, come thou and
thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as dead
as a doornail, I pray God I may never eat grass more.
4.10.42 IDEN
Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,
That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine,
See if thou canst outface me with thy looks:
Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;
Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,
Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;
My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;
And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
As for words, whose greatness answers words,
Let this my sword report what speech forbears.
4.10.55 CADE
By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I
heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out
the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou
sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou
mayst be turned to hobnails.
Here they fight. CADE falls
O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me:
let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me
but the ten meals I have lost, and I'll defy them
all. Wither, garden; and be henceforth a
burying-place to all that do dwell in this house,
because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.
4.10.66 IDEN
Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
Sword, I will hollow thee for this thy deed,
And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead:
Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point;
But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
To emblaze the honour that thy master got.
4.10.72 CADE
Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. Tell
Kent from me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort
all the world to be cowards; for I, that never
feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour.
Dies
4.10.76 IDEN
How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee;
And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.
Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave,
And there cut off thy most ungracious head;
Which I will bear in triumph to the king,
Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon.
Exit
Contents
Act 5
Scene 1 | Fields between Dartford and Blackheath.
|
Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours
5.1.1 YORK
From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right,
And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright,
To entertain great England's lawful king.
Ah! sancta majestas, who would not buy thee dear?
Let them obey that know not how to rule;
This hand was made to handle naught but gold.
I cannot give due action to my words,
Except a sword or sceptre balance it:
A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul,
On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.
Enter BUCKINGHAM
Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.
5.1.14 BUCKINGHAM
York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well.
5.1.15 YORK
Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?
5.1.17 BUCKINGHAM
A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
To know the reason of these arms in peace;
Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
Should raise so great a power without his leave,
Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.
5.1.23 YORK
[Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great:
O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
I am so angry at these abject terms;
And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
I am far better born than is the king,
More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts:
But I must make fair weather yet a while,
Till Henry be more weak and I more strong, –
Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me,
That I have given no answer all this while;
My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
The cause why I have brought this army hither
Is to remove proud Somerset from the king,
Seditious to his grace and to the state.
5.1.38 BUCKINGHAM
That is too much presumption on thy part:
But if thy arms be to no other end,
The king hath yielded unto thy demand:
The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
5.1.42 YORK
Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
5.1.43 BUCKINGHAM
Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
5.1.44 YORK
Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers.
Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
Meet me tomorrow in St. George's field,
You shall have pay and every thing you wish.
And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
As pledges of my fealty and love;
I'll send them all as willing as I live:
Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have,
Is his to use, so Somerset may die.
5.1.54 BUCKINGHAM
York, I commend this kind submission:
We twain will go into his highness' tent.
Enter KING HENRY VI and Attendants
5.1.56 KING HENRY VI
Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
5.1.58 YORK
In all submission and humility
York doth present himself unto your highness.
5.1.60 KING HENRY VI
Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?
5.1.61 YORK
To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
Who since I heard to be discomfited.
Enter IDEN, with CADE'S head
5.1.64 IDEN
If one so rude and of so mean condition
May pass into the presence of a king,
Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head,
The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
5.1.68 KING HENRY VI
The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!
O, let me view his visage, being dead,
That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?
5.1.72 IDEN
I was, an't like your majesty.
5.1.73 KING HENRY VI
How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?
5.1.74 IDEN
Alexander Iden, that's my name;
A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king.
5.1.76 BUCKINGHAM
So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
He were created knight for his good service.
5.1.78 KING HENRY VI
Iden, kneel down.
He kneels
Rise up a knight.
We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
And will that thou henceforth attend on us.
5.1.82 IDEN
May Iden live to merit such a bounty.
And never live but true unto his liege!
Rises
Enter QUEEN MARGARET and SOMERSET
5.1.84 KING HENRY VI
See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen:
Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke.
5.1.86 QUEEN MARGARET
For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,
But boldly stand and front him to his face.
5.1.88 YORK
How now! is Somerset at liberty?
Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts,
And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
False king! why hast thou broken faith with me,
Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
King did I call thee? no, thou art not king,
Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
Which darest not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
That head of thine doth not become a crown;
Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.
That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
Is able with the change to kill and cure.
Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up
And with the same to act controlling laws.
Give place: by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.
5.1.107 SOMERSET
O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York,
Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown;
Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.
5.1.110 YORK
Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these,
If they can brook I bow a knee to man.
Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail;
Exit Attendant
I know, ere they will have me go to ward,
They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.
5.1.115 QUEEN MARGARET
Call hither Clifford! bid him come amain,
To say if that the bastard boys of York
Shall be the surety for their traitor father.
Exit BUCKINGHAM
5.1.118 YORK
O blood-besotted Neapolitan,
Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those
That for my surety will refuse the boys!
Enter EDWARD and RICHARD
See where they come: I'll warrant they'll
make it good.
Enter CLIFFORD and YOUNG CLIFFORD
5.1.125 QUEEN MARGARET
And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
5.1.126 CLIFFORD
Health and all happiness to my lord the king!
Kneels
5.1.127 YORK
I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news with thee?
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look;
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
5.1.131 CLIFFORD
This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistakest me much to think I do:
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
5.1.134 KING HENRY VI
Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
Makes him oppose himself against his king.
5.1.136 CLIFFORD
He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his.
5.1.138 QUEEN MARGARET
He is arrested, but will not obey;
His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.
5.1.140 YORK
Will you not, sons?
5.1.141 EDWARD
Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
5.1.142 RICHARD
And if words will not, then our weapons shall.
5.1.143 CLIFFORD
Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!
5.1.144 YORK
Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.
Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
That with the very shaking of their chains
They may astonish these fell-lurking curs:
Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.
Enter the WARWICK and SALISBURY
5.1.150 CLIFFORD
Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death.
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the baiting place.
5.1.153 RICHARD
Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried:
And such a piece of service will you do,
If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.
5.1.159 CLIFFORD
Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
5.1.161 YORK
Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
5.1.162 CLIFFORD
Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.
5.1.163 KING HENRY VI
Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourable age with blood?
Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.
5.1.177 SALISBURY
My lord, I have consider'd with myself
The title of this most renowned duke;
And in my conscience do repute his grace
The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
5.1.181 KING HENRY VI
Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
5.1.182 SALISBURY
I have.
5.1.183 KING HENRY VI
Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?
5.1.184 SALISBURY
It is great sin to swear unto a sin,
But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
And have no other reason for this wrong
But that he was bound by a solemn oath?
5.1.193 QUEEN MARGARET
A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
5.1.194 KING HENRY VI
Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
5.1.195 YORK
Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
I am resolved for death or dignity.
5.1.197 CLIFFORD
The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.
5.1.198 WARWICK
You were best to go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
5.1.200 CLIFFORD
I am resolved to bear a greater storm
Than any thou canst conjure up today;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
5.1.204 WARWICK
Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,
The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
As on a mountain top the cedar shows
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.
5.1.210 CLIFFORD
And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.
5.1.213 YOUNG CLIFFORD
And so to arms, victorious father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.
5.1.215 RICHARD
Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite,
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ tonight.
5.1.217 YOUNG CLIFFORD
Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.
5.1.218 RICHARD
If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.
Exeunt severally
Contents
Act 5
Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK
5.2.1 WARWICK
Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls:
And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,
Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me:
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter YORK
How now, my noble lord? what, all afoot?
5.2.9 YORK
The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
But match to match I have encounter'd him
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.
Enter CLIFFORD
5.2.13 WARWICK
Of one or both of us the time is come.
5.2.14 YORK
Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase,
For I myself must hunt this deer to death.
5.2.16 WARWICK
Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st.
As I intend, Clifford, to thrive today,
It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.
Exit
5.2.19 CLIFFORD
What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou pause?
5.2.20 YORK
With thy brave bearing should I be in love,
But that thou art so fast mine enemy.
5.2.22 CLIFFORD
Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem,
But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.
5.2.24 YORK
So let it help me now against thy sword
As I in justice and true right express it.
5.2.26 CLIFFORD
My soul and body on the action both!
5.2.27 YORK
A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.
They fight, and CLIFFORD falls
5.2.28 CLIFFORD
La fin couronne les oeuvres.
Dies
5.2.29 YORK
Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!
Exit
Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
5.2.31 YOUNG CLIFFORD
Shame and confusion! all is on the rout;
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
He that is truly dedicate to war
Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself
Hath not essentially but by circumstance
The name of valour.
Seeing his dead father
O, let the vile world end,
And the premised flames of the last day
Knit earth and heaven together!
Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty sounds
To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
The silver livery of advised age,
And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus
To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight
My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine,
It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
No more will I their babes: tears virginal
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire,
And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:
Meet I an infant of the house of York,
Into as many gobbets will I cut it
As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
As did Æneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Æneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.
Exit, bearing off his father
Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed
5.2.67 RICHARD
So, lie thou there;
For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset
Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:
Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.
Exit
Fight: excursions. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and others
5.2.73 QUEEN MARGARET
Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away!
5.2.74 KING HENRY VI
Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.
5.2.75 QUEEN MARGARET
What are you made of? you'll nor fight nor fly:
Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence,
To give the enemy way, and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.
Alarum afar off
If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape,
As well we may, if not through your neglect,
We shall to London get, where you are loved
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopp'd.
Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
5.2.85 YOUNG CLIFFORD
But that my heart's on future mischief set,
I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly:
But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
Away, for your relief! and we will live
To see their day and them our fortune give:
Away, my lord, away!
Exeunt