Classic Audiobook Collection - Henry VI Part 3 by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook [tragedy]

Episode Date: April 28, 2025

Henry VI Part 3 by William Shakespeare audiobook. Genre: tragedy In Henry VI Part 3, England is torn apart by civil war as the rival houses of York and Lancaster fight for the crown. King Henry VI, gentle and ill-suited to brutal politics, finds his reign collapsing under the pressure of ambitious nobles and shifting loyalties. Richard, Duke of York, presses his claim to rule, while Queen Margaret refuses to surrender her son's inheritance, turning herself into a fierce commander in a conflict that spares neither battlefield nor family. As victories swing back and forth, alliances are forged and broken with terrifying speed, and the cost of power is measured in betrayal, vengeance, and blood. Amid the chaos, new figures rise with unsettling confidence, including the young Edward of York and the calculating Richard, whose sharp mind and hunger for advancement hint at darker futures. Moving between court intrigue and open combat, the play tracks how private grief becomes public violence, and how a nation fractures when leadership and legitimacy are constantly contested. Shakespeare builds a relentless portrait of a kingdom consuming itself, where survival demands hard choices and mercy can be fatal. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 0 (00:03:59) Chapter 1 (00:38:55) Chapter 2 (01:20:20) Chapter 3 (01:55:05) Chapter 4 (02:28:03) Chapter 5 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Act 1 of Henry VI, Part 3 by William Shakespeare. Act 1, Scene 1, London, the Parliament House. Aloram Enter York, Edward, Richard, Norfolk, Montague, Warwick, and the soldiers. I wonder how the king escaped our hands. While we pursued the horsemen of the north, he sly stole away and left his men, whereat the great lord of Northumberland, whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, cheered up the drooping army, and himself, Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all abreast,

charged our main battles front, and breaking in, were by the swords of common soldiers slain. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, is either slain or wounded dangerously. I cleft his beaver with a town-right blow. That this is true, father, behold his blood. and brother here's the earl of welch's blood whom i encountered as the battles joined speak thou for me and tell them what i did throwing down somerset's head richard hath best deserved of all my sons but is your grace dead my lord of somerset such hope of all the line of john of god thus do i hope to shake king henry's head and so do i victorious prince of york before i see thee seated in that throne which now the house of lancaster usurps i vow by heaven these eyes shall never close this is the palace of the fearful king and this the regal seat possess it york for this is thine and not king henry's heirs assist me then sweet warwick and i will for hither we have broken in by force we'll all assist you he that flies shall die thanks gentle norfolk stay by me my lords and soldiers stay and lodge by me this night they go up

and when the king comes offer no violence unless he seek to thrust you out perforce the queen this day here holds her parliament but little thinks we shall be of her counsel by words or blows here let us win our right armed as we are let's stay within this house the bloody parliament shall this be called unless plantagenet duke of york be king and bashful henry deposed whose cowardice hath made us by words to our enemies then leave me not my lords be resolute i mean to take possession of my right neither the king nor he the loves him best the proudest he that holds up Lancaster, dares stare a wing if Warwick shake his bells? I'll plant-planaginate, root him up, who dares? Resolve thee, Richard, claim the English crown. Flourish, enter King Henry VI, Clifford, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Exeter and the rest. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, even in the chair of state,

Belike he means, backed by the power of Warwick, that force peer, to spire unto the crown and reign is king. Earl of Northumberland he slew thy father, and thine, Lord Clifford, and you both have vowed revenge on him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends. If I be not, heavens be revenged on me. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn and steel. What, shall we suffer this? Let's pluck him down. My heart for anger burns. I cannot brook it. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.

Patience is for baltroon such as he. He durst not sit there had your father lived. My gracious lord, here in the parliament, let us assail the family of York. Well hast thou spoken, cousin, be it so. Ah, no you not, the city favours them, and they have troops of soldiers at their beck. But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly.

Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart to make a shambles of the Parliament House. Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats shall be the war that Henry means to use. Thou, factious Duke of York, descend my throne and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet. I am thy sovereign. I am thine. For shame, come down. He made the Duke of York. T'was my inheritance, as the earldom was. Thy father was a traitor to the crown.

Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown in following this usurping Henry. Whom should he follow but his natural king? True Clifford, and that's Richard Duke of York. And shall I stand and thou sit in my throne? It must and shall be so. Content thyself. Be Duke of Lancaster. Let him be king. He is both king, and Duke. of Lancaster, and that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.

And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget that we are those that chased you from the field and slew your fathers, and with color spread marched through the city to the palace gates. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief, and by his soul thou and thy house shall rue it. Planta Genet, of thee and these thy sons, thy kinsmen, and thy friends. I'll have more lives than drops of blood We're in my father's veins.

Urge it no more, Lest that, instead of words, I send thee Warwick such a messenger, I shall revenge his death before I stir. Poor Clifford, How I scorn his worthless threats. Will you, we show our title to the crown? If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.

What title hast thou, traitor to the crown? Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York, thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March. I am the son of Henry V, who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop and seized upon their towns and provinces. Talk not of France, since thou hast lost it all. The Lord Protector lost it, and not I. When I was crowned, I was but nine months old.

You are old enough now, and yet me thinks. you lose. Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Sweet father, do so. Set it on your head. Good brother, as though lovest and honorest arms, let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. Sound drums and trumpets and the king will fly. Sons, peace. Peace, thou, and give King Henry leave to speak. Plantagina shall speak first. Hear him, lords, and be you silent and attentive too, For he that interrupts him shall not live. Thinks thou that I will leave my kingly throne,

wherein my grandsire and my father sat, No, first shall war unpeople this my realm, I, and their colours often born in France, and now in England to our heart's great sorrow, shall be my winding sheet. Why faint you, lords, My title's good, and better far than his. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.

Henry IV by conquest got the crown. T'was by rebellion against his king. Aside. I know not what to say, my title's weak. Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir. What then? And if he may, then am I lawful king. For Richard, in the view of many lords, resigned the crown to Henry IV,

whose heir my father was and I am his. He rose against him, being his sovereign, and made him to resign his crown perforce. suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrained. Think you twere prejudicial to his crown? No, for he could not so retain his crown, but that the next heir should succeed and reign. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? His is the right, and therefore pardon me.

Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? My conscience tells me he is lawful king. Aside, or will revolt from me, and turn to him. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou laced, think not that Henry shall be so deposed. Deposed he shall be in despite of all. Thou art deceived. Tis not thy southern power of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,

which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, can set the Duke up in despite of me. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence. May that ground gape and swallow me alive, where I shall kneel to him that slew my father. Oh, Clifford, how thy word. revive my heart. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.

What mutter you or what conspire you, lords? Do right unto this princely duke of York, or I will fill the house with armoured men, and over the chair of state, where now he sits, write up his title with usurping blood. He stumps with his foot, and the soldiers show themselves. My lord of Warwick, hear me but one word. Let me for this my lifetime reign is king.

Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, and thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. I am content. Richard Plantagenet, enjoy the kingdom after my decease. What wrong is this unto the prince your son? What good is this to England and himself? Bays, fearful and despairing, Henry. How hast thou injured both thyself and us?

I cannot stay to hear these articles, nor I. Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, in whose blood no spark of honor bides. Be thou a prey unto the House of York, and die in bands for this unmanly deed. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, or live in peace, abandoned and despised.

sent Northumberland, Clifford, and Westmoreland. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield. Ah, Exeter! Why should you sigh, my lord? Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, whom I unnaturally shall disinherit, but be it as it may. I here entail the crown to thee and to thine heirs forever,

conditionally, that here thou take an oath to cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, to honour me as thy king and sovereign, and neither by treason nor hostility to seek to put me down and reign thyself. This oath I willingly take, and will perform. Long live King Henry. Plantagenet embrace him. And long live thou and these thy forward sons. Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. O cursed be he that seeks to make them foes.

Senate, here they come down. Farewill, my gracious Lord, I'll to my castle. And I'll keep London with my soldiers. And I to Norfolk with my followers. And I unto the sea from whence I came. Excient York, Edward, Edmund, George, Richard, Warwick, Norfolk, Montague, their soldiers and attendants.

And I, with grief and sorrow to the court. Enter Queen Margaret and Prince Edward. Here comes the Queen, whose looks betray her anger. I'll steal away. Exeter, so will I. Nay, go not for me, I will follow thee. Be patient, gentle Queen, and I will stay. Who can be patient in such extremes?

Ah, wretched man! Would I had died a maid and never seen thee, never borne thee, son? seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father. Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? Hath thou but loved him half so well as I, or felt that pain which I did for him once, or nourished him as I did with my blood, thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there

rather than have that savage duke thine heir and disinherited thine only son. Father, you cannot disinherit me. If you be king, why should not I succeed? Pardon me, Margaret. Pardon me, sweet son. The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforced me. Enforced thee? Aren't thou king, and wilt be forced? I shame to hear thee speak. A timorous wretch! Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me,

and given unto the house of York such head as thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, What is it but to make thy sepulchre And creep into it far before thy time? Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais. Stern-Falkenbridge commands the narrow seas. The duke is made protector of the realm. And yet shall thou be safe?

Such safety finds the trembling lamb in vire and with wolves. Had I been there? A witch am a silly woman. The soldiers should have tossed me on their pikes before I would have granted to that act. But thou profess thy life before thine honour. And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself, both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, until that act of Parliament be repealed whereby my son is disinherited. The northern lord that aforesworn thy colours will follow mine if once they see them spread.

and spread they shall be. To thy foul disgrace, and utter ruin of the house of York! Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away. Our army is ready. Come, we'll after them. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. Thou hast spoke too much already.

Get thee gone. Gentle son, Edward, thou wilt stay with me. I, to be murdered by his enemies. When I return with victory from the field, I'll see your grace. Till then I'll follow her. Come, son, away. We may not linger thus. Accinct Queen Margaret and Prince Edward. Poor Queen! How love to me and to her son hath made her break out into terms of rage!

Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, whose haughty spirit, winged with desire will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle tire on the flesh of me and of my son. The loss of those three lords torments my heart. I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. Excient. Scene two.

Sandal Castle Enter Richard, Edward and Montague. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. No, I can better. play the orator. But I have reason strong and forcible. Enter York. Why, how now, sons and brother? At a strife? What is your quarrel? How began at first? No quarrel, but a slight contention. About what? About that which concerns your grace and us, the crown of England, father, which is yours. Mine, boy? Not till King Henry be dead.

Your right depends not on his life or death. Now you are heir. Therefore enjoy it Now, by giving the House of Lancaster leave to breathe, it will outrun you, father, in the end. I took an oath that he should quietly reign. But for a kingdom any oath may be broken. I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. No, God forbid your grace should be foresworn. I shall be, if I claim by open war. I'll prove the contrary, if you will hear me speak.

Thou canst not, son, it is impossible. An oath is of no moment being not took before a true or a true old. and lawful magistrate, that hath authority over him that swears. Henry had none, but did usurp the place, then seeing twas he that made you to depose your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. Therefore, to arms, and father, do but think, how sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, within whose circuit is elysium, and all that poets feign of bliss and joy. Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest until the white rose that I wear be died, even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. Richard, enough. I will be king or die. Brother, thou shalt to London

presently, and wet on Warwick to this enterprise. Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, and tell him privily of our intent. You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, with whom the kentishman will willingly rise in them i trust for their soldiers witty courteous liberal full of spirit while you are thus employed what resteth more but that i seek occasion how to rise and yet the king not privy to my drift nor any of the house of lancaster enter a messenger but stay what news why comest thou in such post the queen with all the northern earls and lords intend here to besie you in your castle she is hard by with twenty thousand men and therefore fortify your hold my lord ay with my sword what think'st thou that we fear them edward and richard you shall stay with me my brother montague shall post to london let noble warwick cobham and the rest whom we have left protectors of the king with powerful policies strengthen themselves and trust not simple henry nor his oaths brother i go i'll win them fear it not and thus most humbly i do take my leave exit enter john mortimer and hugh mortimer sir john and sir hugh mortimer mine uncles you are come to sandal in a happy hour the army of the queen mean to besiegers she shall not need we'll meet her in the field what with five thousand men ay with five hundred father for a need a A woman's general, what should we fear?

A march afar off. I hear their drums. Let's set our men in order, and issue forth and bid them battle straight. Five men to twenty. Though the odds be great, I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. Many a battle have I won in France, when as the enemy hath been ten to one. Why should I not now have the like success? Alorum, exient.

Scene three. field of battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield. Alorums, enter Rutland and his tutor. O whither shall I fly to escape the hands? Oh, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes. Enter Clifford and soldiers. Chaplain away, thy priesthood saves thy life. As for the brat of this accursed duke whose father slew my father, he shall die.

And I, my lord, will bear him company. Soldiers, away with him. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child. Lest thou be hated both of God and man. Exit, dragged off by soldiers. How now? Is he dead already? Or is it fear that makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.

So looks the bent-up lion over the wretch that trembles under his devouring pose. And so he walks, insulting over his prey. and so he comes to run his limbs asunder. Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, and not with such a cruel threatening. Look, sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. I am too mean a subject for thy wrath. Be thou revenged on men, and let me live.

In vain thou speak'st, poor boy. My father's blood hath stopped the passage where thy words should enter. Then let my father's blood open it again. He is a man and Clifford cope with him. Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine were not revenge sufficient for me. No, if I digged up thy forefather's graves and hung their rotten coffins up in chains, it could not slake mine eye, nor ease my heart. The sight of any of the house of York is as a fury to torment my soul.

until I root out their accursed line And leave not one alive I live in hell Therefore Lifting his hand Oh let me pray before I take my death To thee I pray Sweet Clifford

Pity me Such pity as my rapier's Points affords I never did the arm Why will thou slay me Thy father hath But was here was born thou hast one son, for his sake pity me, lest in revenge thereof,

Sith God is just, he be as miserably slain as I. Oh, let me live in prison all my days, and when I give occasion of offence, then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. No cause, thy father slew, my father, therefore die. Stubbs him. Diffagy and loud is Sumasit is at toy. Dyes. Plantagenet, I come Plantagenet, and this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade shall rust upon my weapon,

till thy blood congealed with this do make me wipe off both. Exit. Scene four, another part of the field. Alorum, enter York. The army of the queen hath got the field. My uncles both are slain in rescuing me, and all my followers to the eager foe turn back and fly, like ships before the wind or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them, but this I know, they have demeaned themselves

like men born to renown by life or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me, and thrice cried, courage, father, fight it out! And full as oft came Edward to my side, with purple falchian painted to the hilt in blood of those that had encountered him. And when the hardiest warriors did retire, Richard cried, Charge!

And give no foot of ground! And cried, A crown or else a glorious tomb, A sceptre or an earthly sepulchre. With this we charged again. But out, alas! We budged again, as I have seen a swan

With bootless labour swim against the tide And spend her strength With overmatching waves A short allurean within A hark, the fatal followers do pursue, and I am faint And cannot fly their fury

And were I strong, I would not shun their fury. The sands are numbered That make up my life, Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, Northumberland, Prince Edward and soldiers. Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, I dare your quenchless fury to more rage.

I am your butt, and I abide your shot. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. I, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, with downright payment showed under my father. Now, Firthin hath tumbled from his car and made an evening of the noontide prick. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth a bird that will revenge upon you all,

and in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, scorning whatever you can afflict me with. Why come you not? What? Multitudes and fear? So cowards fight when they can fly no further. So doves dupeck the falcons piercing talons. So desperate thieves or hopeless of their lives

breathe out invectives against the officers. Oh, Clifford, but bethink thee once again, and in thy thought o'er run my former time and if thou canst for blushing view this face and bite thy tongue that slanders him with cowardice whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this i will not bandy with thee word for word but buckle with thee blows twice two for one hold valiant clifford for a thousand causes i would prolong a while the traitor's life wrath mayn't makes him deaf. Speak thou, Northumberland. Hold, Clifford, do not honour him so much to prick thy finger, though to wound his heart. What valour were it when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth when he might spurn him with his foot away? It is war's prized to take all vantages, and ten to one is no impeach of valor.

They lay hand on York, who struggles? Aye, aye, so strives the woodcock with the gin. So doth the cony struggle in the net. So triumphed thieves upon their conquered booty, So true men yield with robbers so or matched. What would your grace have done unto him now? Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,

That rotted mountains without stretched arms, Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. What? Was it yew? that would be England's king? Was't you that revelled in our Parliament, and made a preachment of your high descent? Where are your mess of sons to back you now? The wanton Edward and the lusty George? And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy?

Dicky, your boy, that with his grumbling voice was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? Or, with the rest? Where is your darling Rutland? Look, York! I stained this napkin with the blood that valiant Clifford with his rapier's point made issue from the bosom of the boy. And if thine eyes can water for his death, I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. Alas, poor York!

But that I hate thee deadly, I should lament thy miserable state. I privy, grieve, to make me merry, York. What hath thy fiery heart so parched thine entrails That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? Why art thou patient, man? Thou shouldst be mad, and I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. Stamp, rave, and fret, That I may sing and dance.

Thou wouldst be feed, I see, to make me sport, "'York cannot speak unless he wear a crown, a crown for York, "'and lords bow low to him. "'Pold you his hands whilst I do set it on.' "'Pudding a paper crown on his head?' "'Aye, marry, sir, now looks he like a king. "'Aye, this is he that took King Henry's chair, "'and this is he that was his adopted heir.

"'But how is it that great Plantagenet is, crowned so soon and broke his solemn oath. As I bethink me you should not be king till our king Henry had shook hands with death. And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, and rob his temple of the diadem? Now, in his life, against your holy oath? Oh, tis a fault too, too unpardonable! Off with the crown, and with the crown his head! and whilst we breathe take time to do him dead.

That is my office for my father's sake. Nay, stay, let's hear the orisons he makes. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth. How ill-be seeming is it in thy sex to triumph like an Amazonian troll upon their woes whom fortune captivates, But that thy face is, Visered-like, unchanging,

Made impudent with use of evil deeds, I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. To tell thee whence thou camest, Of whom derived, Were shame enough to shame thee, Woth thou not shameless? Thy father bears the type of king of Naples, Of both the Sistles and Jerusalem,

Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult. It needs not, nor it boots thee not proud, queen, unless the adage must be verified that beggars mounted run their horse to death. Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud, but God he knows thy share thereof is small. Tis virtue that doth make them most admired, the contrary doth make thee wondered at,

Tis government that makes them seem divine. The want thereof makes thee abominable. Thou art as opposite to every good as the antipides are unto us, or as the south to the sceptin trion. O tiger's heart, wrapped in a woman's hide! How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child to bid the father wipe his eyes withal, and yet be seen to bear a woman's face. Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible. Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough remorseless,

Bidst thou me rage? Why now thou hast thy wish? Wouldst have me weep? Why now thou hast thy will? For raging wind! blows up incessant showers, and when the rage allays, the rain begins. These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies, and every drop cries vengeance for his death, against thee fell Clifford and the false French woman.

Bishroomy, but his passion moves me so that hardly can I check my eyes from tears. That face of his, the hungry cannibals would not have touched, would not have stained with blood. But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, oh, ten times more than tigers of hyrcania. See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears. This cloth thou dips in blood of my sweet boy, And I, with tears, do wash the blood away. Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this. And if thou tell'st the heavy story right,

Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears, yea, Even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, and say, Alas, it was a piteous deed. There, take the crown, And with the crown my curse, And in thy need, Such comfort come to thee

As now I reap at thy too cruel hand. Hard-hearted, Clifford, Take me from the world. My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads. Had he been slaughterman to all my kin, I should not for my life but weep with him, to see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.

What, weeping ripe, my lord Northumberland? Think but upon the wrong he did us all, and that will quickly dry thy melting tears. He is for my oath. He is for my father's death. Stopping him. And here's to write our gentleness. hearted king.

Stubbing him. Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God. My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee. Dyes. Off with his head, and set it on York Gates,

so York may overlook the town of York. Flourish, Excient. End of Act 1. Act 2 of Henry 6th, Part 3 by William Shakespeare. This is a Librevoxian.

recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraFox.org. Act two, scene one. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herrifichia. A march. Enter Edward, Richard, and their power. I wonder how our princely father escaped, or whether he be escaped away or no, from Clifford and Northumberland's pursuit. Had he been tain, we should have heard the news. had he been slain we should have heard the news or had he scaped methinks we should have heard the happy tidings of his good escape how fairs my brother why is he so sad i cannot joy until i be resolved where our right valiant father is become i saw him in the battle range about and watched him how he singled clifford forth methought he bore him in the thickest troop as doth a lion in a herd of net or as a bear encompassed round with dogs who having pinched a few and made them cry the rest stand all aloof and bark at him so far'd our father

with his enemies so fled his enemies my warlike father me thinks disprice enough to be his son see how the morning opes her golden gates and takes her farewell of the glorious sun how well resembles it the prime of youth trimmed like a junker prancing to his love dazzle mine eyes or do i see three sons three glorious sons each one a perfect son not separated with the racking clouds but severed in a pale clear shining sky see see they join embrace and seem to kiss as if they vowed some league inviolable now are they but one lamp one light one sun in this the heaven figure some event tis wonder is strange the like yet never heard of i think it sights us brother to the field that we the sons of brave plantagenet that we the sons of brave plantagenet each one already blazing by our meads should notwithstanding join our lights together and overshine the earth as this the world whate'er it bodes henceforward i will bear upon my target three fair shining sons nay bear three daughters by your leave i speak it you love the breeder better than the male enter a messenger but what art thou whose heavy looks foretell some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue ah one that was a woeful looker on whenas the noble duke was slain your princely father and my loving lord o speak no more for i have heard too much say how he died for i will hear it all environd he was with many foes and stood against them as the hope of troy against the greeks that would have entered troy but hercules himself must yield to odds and many strokes though with a little axe hew down and fell the hardest timbered oak

by many hands your father were subdued but only slaughtered by the ireful arm of unrelenting clifford and the queen who crowned the gracious duke in high despite laughed in his face, and when with grief he wept, the ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks, a napkin steeped in the harmless blood of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain. And after many scorns, many foul taunts, they took his head, and on the gates of York they set the same, and there it doth remain the saddest spectacle that ere I viewed. Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, now thou art gone and not yet, we have no staff, no stay. O Clifford, boisterous Clifford,

thou hast slain the flower of Europe for his chivalry, and treacherously hast thou vanquished him, for hand to hand he would have vanquished thee. Now my soul's palace is become a prison. Ah, would she break from hence that this my body might in the ground be closed up in rest? For never henceforth shall I joy again, Never. Oh, never shall I see more joy.

I cannot weep for all my body's moisture, scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart, nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden. For self-same wind that I shall speak with all is kindling coals that fires all my breast, and burns me up with flames that tears would quench. To weep is to make less the depth of grief. Tears then for babes, blows and revenge for me.

Richard I bear thy name, I'll venge thy death, or die renown'd by attempting it. His name that valiant duke hath left with thee, his dukedom, and his chair with me is left. Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, show thy descent by gazing against the sun, for chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say, Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. March. Enter Warwick, Montague and their army. How now, fair, what fair, what news abroad?

Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance, stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, The words would add more anguish than the wounds, O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain. O Warwick, Warwick, That Plantagenet which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.

Ten days ago I drowned these news in tears, And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things, Sith then befallen. after the bloody fray at Wakefield Fort, where your brave father breathed his latest gasped, tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, or brought me of your loss and his depart. I then in London, keeper of the king,

mastered my soldiers, gathered flocks of friends, and very well appointed, as I thought, marched towards St. Albans to intercept the queen, bearing the king in my behalf along. For by my scouts I was advertised that she was coming with a full intent to dash our late decree in Parliament, touching King Henry's oath and your succession. Short tale to make, we had St. Aldman's met, our battles joined, and both sides fiercely fought. But whether it was the coldness of the king, who looked full gently on his warlike queen,

that robbed my soldiers of their heated spleen, or whether it was the coldness of the king, or whether it was the coldness of the king, who looked full gently on his warlike queen, that robbed my soldiers of their heated spleen, or whether it was a report of her success, or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, who thunders to his captive's blood and death. I cannot judge, but to conclude with truth their weapons, like to lightning came and went, as soldiers, like the night-hours lazy flight, or like an idle thresher with a flail, fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. I cheered them. up with justice of our cause, with promise of high pay and great rewards. But all in vain, they had no heart to fight, and we in them no hope to win the day, so that we fled,

the king unto the queen, Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself, in haste, post-haste, are come to join with you, for in the marches here we heard you were, making another head to fight again. where is the duke of norfolk gentle warwick and when came george from burgundy to england some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers and for your brother he was lately sent from your kind art duchess of burgundy with aid of soldiers to this needful war twas odds be like when valiant warwick fled oft have i heard his praise in pursuit but never till now his scandal of retire nor now my scandal richard dost thou here, for thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine can pluck the diadem from fate Henry's head, and wring the awful sceptre from his fist, where he is famous and as bold in war as he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. I know it well, Lord Warwick, blame me not. Tis love I bear thy glory makes me speak, but in this troublous time what's to be done?

Shall we go throw away our coats of steel And wrap our bodies in black morning gowns Numbering our Ave Maria's with our beads Or shall we on the helmets of our foes Tell our devotion with revengeful arms If for the last say I And to it, Lord's! Why, therefore what it came to seek you out

And therefore comes my brother Montague Attend me, lords, The proud, insulting, queen with Clifford and the Hort Northumberland, and of their feather many more proud birds, have wrought the easy melting king like wax. He swore 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 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 welshman canst procure will but amount to five and twenty thousand why via to london will we march and once again bestride our foaming steeds and once again cry charge upon our foes but never once again turn back and fly ay now methinks i hear great warwick speak never may he live to see a sunshine day that cries retire if warwick bid him stay lord warwick on thy shoulder will i lean and when thou fail'st as god forbid the hour must edward fall which peril heaven forfend no longer earl of march but duke of york the next degree is england's royal throne for king of england shall thou be proclaimed in every borough as we pass along 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 then clifford wear thy heart as hard as steal as thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds i come to pierce it or to give thee mind Then strike up the drums. God and St. George for us.

Enter a messenger. Now, what news? The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me. The Queen is coming with a puissant host, and craves your company for speedy counsel. Why, then it sorts. Brave warriors lets a way. Excient. Scene two, before York. Flourish.

Enter King Henry VI, Queen Margaret. Prince Edward, Clifford, and Northumberland with drum and trumpets. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy that sought to be encompassed with your crown. Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? Aye, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck. To see this sight it irks my very soul. Withhold revenge, dear God, tis not my fault, nor witting thee have I

infringed my vow. My gracious liege, this is too much lenity, and harmful pity must be laid aside. To whom do lions cast their gentle looks, not to the beast that would usurp their den, whose hand is that that the forest bear doth lick, not his that spoils her young before her face, who escapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting, not he that sets his foot upon her back. The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, and doves will peck and safeguard their brood. Ambitious York doth level at thy crown.

Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows. He but a duke would have his son a king, and raise his issue like a loving sire. Thou, being a king, blessed with a goodly son, didst yield consent to disinherit him, which argued thee a most unloving father. 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 used with fearful fright, make war with him that climbed unto their nest, offer 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, and long hereafter say unto his child, what my great-grandfather and his 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 successful fortune, steal thy melting heart, to hold thine own and leave thine own with him. Full well hath Clifford played the orator, inferring arguments of mighty force. But Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear that things ill 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? For all the rest is held at such a rate as brings a thousandfold more care to keep than in possession and jot of pleasure. Ah, cousin York, would thy best friends did know how it doth grieve me that thy head is here? My lord, cheer up your spirits. Our foes are nigh, and this soft courage makes your followers faint. promised knighthood to our forward son. Unsheet your sword and dub him presently. Edward, kneel down.

Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight, and learn this lesson. Draw thy sword in right. My gracious father, by your kingly leave, I'll draw it as a parent to the crown, and in that quarrel use it to the death. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. Enter a messenger. commanders, be in readiness, for with a band of 30,000 men comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York, and in the towns, as they do march along, proclaims him king, and many fly to him, to reign your battle, for they are at hand. I would, your highness, would depart the field, the queen have best success when you are absent.

Ay, good, my lord, and leave us to our fortune. Why, that's my fortune, too, therefore I'll stay. Be it with resolution then to fight. royal father cheer these noble lords and hearten those that fight in your defence unsheathe your sword good father cry st george march enter edward george richard warwick norfolk montague and soldiers now perjured henry wilt thou kneel for grace and set thy diadem upon my head or buy the mortal fortune of the field go rate thy minions proud insulting boy becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? I am as king and he should bow his knee. I was adopted ere by his consent. Since when his oath is broke, for as I hear you that are king, though he do wear the crown, have caused him by new act of parliament

to blot out me and put his own son in. And reason too, who should succeed the father? but the son. Are you there, butcher? Oh, I cannot speak. I crook back. Here I stand to answer thee, or any he the proudest of thy sort. T'was you that killed young Rutland,

was it not? I am old York and yet not satisfied. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. What sayest thou, Henry? Wilt thou yield the crown? Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick? dare you speak when you and i met at st alban's last your legs did better service than your hands then twas my turn to fly and now it is thine you said so much before and yet you fled "'Pas not thy valour, Clifford, drove me thence.'

"'No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.' "'Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. "'Break off the parley, for scarce I can refrain, "'the execution of my big swallened heart upon that clifford, "'that cruel child-killer.' "'I slew thy father. "'Calls thou him a child?' "'I, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,

"'as thou didst kill our tender brother, Rutland, but ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. I prithee, give no limits to my tongue. I am a king and privileged to speak. My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here cannot be cured by words. Therefore be still.

Then executioner unsheath thy sword. By him that made us all, I am resolved. that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? A thousand men have broke their fast today that ne'er shall die unless thou yield the crown. If thou deny their blood upon thy head, Fjork injustice puts his armour on.

If that be right, which Warwick says is right, there is no wrong, but everything is right. Whoever got thee there thy mother stands for well, a wot thou hast thy mother's tongue. But thou art not. either like thy sire or dam, but like a foul misshapen stigmatic, marked by the destinies to be avoided, as venom toads or lizard's dreadful stings. Iron of Naples hid with English guilt, whose father bears the title of a king,

as if a channel should be called the sea, shames thou not knowing whence thou art extroth, to let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart. a wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns to make this shameless callet know herself helen of greece was fairer far than thou although thy husband may be manilus and ne'er was agamemnon's brother wronged by that false woman as this king by thee his father revelled in the heart of france and tamed the king and made the defaunt stoop and had he matched according to his state he might have kept that glory to this day but when he took a beggar to his bed and graced thy poor sire with his bridal day even then that sunshine brewed a shower for him that washed his father's fortune forth of france and heaped sedition on his crown at home for what hath broached this tumult but thy pride hadst thou been meek our title still had slept and we in pity of the gentle king had slipped our claim until another age but when we saw our sunshine made thy spring and that thy summer bred us no increase we set the axe to thy usurping root and though the edge hath something hit ourselves yet know thou since we have begun to strike we'll never leave till we have hewn thee down or bears thy growing with our heated bloods and in this resolution i defy thee not willing any longer conference since thou deniest the gentle king to speak sound trumpets let our bloody colours wave and either victory or else a grave stay edward

no wrangling woman will no longer stay these words will cost ten thousand lives this day exeunt scene three a few field of battle between Tauton and Saxon in Yorkshire. Alorum, excursions, enter Warwick. For spent with toil as runners with a race, I lay me down a little while to breathe. For strokes received, and many blows repaid, have robbed my strong knit sinews of their strength. And spite of spite needs must I rest a while.

Enter Edward, running. Smile, gentle heaven, or strike on gentle death. for this world frowns and Edward's sun is clouded. Oh now my lord, what hap, what hope of good. Enter George. Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair. Our ranks are broken ruin follows us. What counsel give you? Whither shall we fly?

Bootless is flight. They follow us with wings and weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. Enter Richard. Ah Warwick, why hast thou with drawn thyself. Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth has drunk, broached with the steely point of Clifford's lance, and in the very

pangs of death he cried, like to a dismal clangor heard from far, Warwick, revenge, brother, revenge my death! So underneath the belly of their steeds that stained their fetlocks in his smoking blood,

the noble gentleman gave up the ghost. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood. I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, wailing our losses whilst the foe doth rage, and look upon as if the tragedy were played in jest by counterfeiting actors? Here on my knee I vow to God above,

I'll never pause again, never stand still, till either death hath closed his eyes of mine, or fortune given me measure of revenge. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine, and in this vow do chain my soul to thine, and ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee. Thou set her up and pluck her down of kings, beseeching thee.

If with they will it stands, that to my foes this body must be prey, yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope and give sweet passage to my sinful soul now lords take leave until we meet again wheree'er it be in heaven or in earth brother give me thy hand and gentle warwick let me embrace thee in my weary arms i that did never weep now melt with woe that winter should cut off our springtime so Away, away. Once more, sweet lords, farewell. Yet let us all together to our troops, and give them leave to fly that will not stay, and call them pillars that will stand to us. And if we thrive, promise them such rewards as victors were at the Olympian Games.

This may plant courage in their quailing breasts, for yet is hope of life and victory. For slow no longer, make we hence a man. Excient. Scene four, another part of the field. Excursions. Enter Richard and Clifford. Now Clifford I have singled thee alone. Suppose this army is for the Duke of York,

and this for Rutland, both bound to revenge, wereth thou environed with a brazen wall. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone. This is the hand that stabbed thy father, York, and this is the hand that slew thy brother Rutland. And here's the heart that triumphs in their death,

and cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother to execute the like upon thyself. And so have at thee. They fight. Warwick comes. Clifford flies. Nay Warwick, singled out some other chase, for I myself will hunt this wolf to death. Exeunt. Scene five, another part of the field. Allorum. Enter King Henry VI alone. This battle fairs like to the morning's war. When dying clouds contend with growing light,

What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night. Now sways it this way like a mighty sea, Forced by the tide to combat with the wind. Now sways it that way, Like the selfsame sea forced to retire by fury of the wind. Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind, Now one the better, then another best,

both tugging to be victors breast to breast, yet neither conqueror nor conquered, so is the equal of this fell war. Here on this mole hill will I sit me down, to whom God will there be the victory. For Margaret, my queen and Clifford too have chid me from the battle, swearing both they prosper best of all when I am thence.

Would I were dead, if God's goodwill were so, for what is in this world's but grief and woe. Oh, God! Methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain. To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly point by point,

thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live, When this is known, then to divide the times. So many hours must I tend my flock, So many hours must I take my rest,

So many hours must I contemplate, So many hours must I sport myself, So many days my ewes have been with young, So many weeks ere the poor fools will e'en, So many years ere I shall shear the fleece, So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, passed over to the end they were created, would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.

Ah, what a life were this! How sweet! How lovely! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, Then doth a rich embroidered canopy To kings that fear their subjects' treachery. Oh, yes, it doth. A thousandfold it doth.

And, to conclude, The shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed,

When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. Alorum Enter a son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body. blows the wind that profits nobody, this man whom hand to hand I slew in fight may be possessed with some store of crowns, and I that haply take them from him now, may yet ere night yield both my life and them to some man else, as this dead man doth me. Who's this? Oh, God, it's my father's face, whom in this conflict I unwares have killed.

Oh, heavy times, begetting such events. From London by the king was I pressed forth. Father, being the Earl of Wurick's man, came on the part of York, pressed by his master, and I, who at his hands received my life, him, hath by my hands, of life bereaved him. Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did, and pardon, father, for I knew not thee. My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks, and no more words till they have flowed their fill. Oh, piteous spectacle, oh bloody times, whilst lions war and battle for their dens, poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear, and let our hearts and eyes like civil war be blind with tears and break or charged with grief.

Enter a father that has killed his son, bringing in the body. Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold, For I have bought it with a hundred blows, But let me see. Is this our foment's face? Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son. Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,

Throw up thine eye. See, see what showers arise, Blown with the wendy tempest of my heart. Upon thy words that kill mine eye and heart. Oh, pity God, this miserable age! What stratageons! How fell! How butcherly!

erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural. This deadly quarrel daily death beget. Oh, boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, and hath bereft thee of thy life. Too late. Woe above woe. Grief more than common grief. O that my death would stay these ruthless deeds.

O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colours of our striving houses, The one his purple blood right well resembles, The other his pale cheeks methinks presenteth. Whither one rose, and let the other flourish. If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. How will my mother for a father's death take on?

with me and ne'er be satisfied. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied? How will the country for these woeful chances misthink the king and not be satisfied? Was ever son so rude a father's death? Was ever father, so bemoaned his son. Was ever king so grieved for subjects woe? Much is your sorrow. Mine ten times so much.

O'bary hands where I may weep my fill. Exit with the body. These arms of mine shall be thy winding sheet. My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre. For from mine heart thine image, ne'er shall go. My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell. And so obsequious will thy father be. even for the loss of thee, having no more, as Priam was for all his valiant sons.

I'll bear thee hence, and let them fight that will, for I have murdered, where I should not kill. Exit with the body. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care. Here sits a king more woeful than you are. Allorum's excursions Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Exeter. Fly, father, fly! For all your friends are fled,

And Warwick rages like a chafed bull. Away! For death-death-hulled us in pursuit! Mount you, my lord, towards Berwick post-ermain. Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds Having the fearful flying hair in sight With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath and bloody steel grasped

And their ireful hands Are at our backs And therefore hence, amain Away, for vengeance comes along with them. Nay, stay not to expostulate, Make speed, or else come after, I'll away before. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter,

Not that I fear to stay, But love to go whither the queen intends, Forward, away. Excient Scene six, another part of the field. A loud allorum. Enter Clifford wounded.

Here burns my candle out. I, here it dies, which whilst it lasted, gave King Henry light. O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow more than my body's parting with my soul. My love and fear glued many friends to thee, and now I fall,

thy tough commisure melts. impairing Henry Strengthening Miss Proud York The common people swarm Like summer flies And whither fly the gnats but to the sun And who shines now But Henry's enemies

O Phoebus Hadst thou never given consent That faithen should check thy fiery Steeds, Thy burning car Never had scorched the earth And Henry Hadst thou swayed as king should do Or as thy father and his father

did, giving no ground unto the house of York, they never then had sprung like summer flies. Iron ten thousand in this lookless realm had left no mourning widows for our death, and thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air, and what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds. No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight. The foe is merciless and will not pity,

For at their hands I have deserved no pity. The air hath got into my deadly wounds, And much a fuse of blood doth make me faint. Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest. I stabbed your father's bosoms, split my breast. He faints, alarm and retreat. and to Edward, George, Richard, Montague, Warwick, and soldiers. Now breathe we, lords. Good fortune bids us pause, and smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.

Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen that led Colm Henry, though he were a king, as doth a sail, filled with a fretting gust, command an argosy to stem the waves. But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them. no tis impossible he should escape for though before his face i speak the words your brother richard marked him for the grave and whereso here he is he surely dead clifford groans and dies a deadly groan like life and death's departing see who it is and now the battle's ended if it friend or foe let him be gently used revoke that doom of mercy for it is clifford who not contented that he lov'd the branch in ewing rutland when his leaves put forth but set his murdering knife unto the root from whence that tender spray did sweetly spring i mean our princely father duke of york from off the gates of york fetched down the head your father's head which clifford placed there instead whereof let this supply the room measure for measure must be answered bring forth that fatal screech owl to our house that nothing sung but death to us and ours now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound and his ill-boating tongue no more shall speak i think his understanding is bereft speak clifford dost thou know who speaks to thee dark cloudy death o'ers his beams of life and he nor sees nor hears us what we say

oh would he did and so perhaps he doth tis but his policy to counterfeit because he would avoid such bitter taunts which in the time of death he gave our father if so thou think'st vex him with eager words clifford ask mercy and obtain no grace clifford repent in bootless penitence clifford devise excuses for thy faults while we devise fell tortures for thy faults thou didst love york and i am son to york thou pitied strutland i will pity thee where's captain margaret to fence you now they mock thee clifford swear as thou wast wont what not an oath nay then the world goes hard when clifford cannot spare his friends an oath i know by that he is dead and by my soul if this right hand would buy two hours life that i in all despite might rail at him this hand should chop it off and with the issuing blood stifled the villain whose unstalled the thysed york and young rutland could not satisfy ay but he's dead off with the traitor's head and rear it in the place your father's stands and now to london with triumphant march there to be crowned england's royal king from whence shall warwick cut the sea to france and ask the lady boner for thy queen so shalt thou sinew both these lands together and having france thy friend thou shalt not dread the skin gathered foe that hopes to rise again for though they cannot greatly sting to hurt yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears first will i see the coronation and then to brittany or cross the sea to affect this marriage so it please my lord even as thou wilt sweet warwick let it be for in thy shoulder do i build my seat and never will i undertake the thing wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting

richard i will create the duke of gloucester and george of clarence warwick as ourself shall do and undo as him pleaseth best let me be duke of clarence george of gloucester for gloucester's dukedom is too ominous That's a foolish observation. Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, to see these honours in possession. Excient. End of Act 2. Act 3 of Henry VI, Part 3 by William Shakespeare. This is a Librevox recording.

All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 3, Scene 1. a forest in the north of england enter two keepers with crossbows in their hands under this thick-grown break we'll shroud ourselves for through the lawn along the deer will come and in this covert will we make our stand cooling the principle of all the deer i'll stay above the hill so both may shoot that cannot be the noise of thy cross-bow will scare the herd and so shall be the heard and so that cannot be the noise of thy crossbow will scare the herd and so my shoot is lost. Here stand we both, and aim we at the best, and, for the time shall not seem tedious, I'll tell you what befell me on a day in this self-place when now we mean to stand. Here comes a man. Let's stay till he be passed.

Enter King Henry VI, disguised with a prayer-book. From Scotland and my stone, even of pure love, to greet mine own land with my own land, wishful sight. No, Harry, Harry, tis no land of thine. Thy place is filled, thy sceptre wrung from thee, thy balm washed off wherewith thou wast anointed. No bending me will call thee Caesar now. No, humble suitors press to speak for right. No, not a man comes for redress of thee. For how can I help them and not myself? Aye, here's a deer whose skins a keeper's fee. This is a the Qandam king, let's seize upon him.

Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course. Why linger we? Let us lay hands upon him. For a bit a while, we'll hear a little more. My queen and son are gone to France for aid, and, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister to wife for Edward. If this news be true, poor queen and son,

Your labour is but lost, for Warwick is a subtle orator, and Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. By this account then Margaret may win him, for she's a woman to be pitied much. Her sighs will make a battery in his breast. Her tears will pierce into a marble heart. The tiger will be mild while she doth mourn, and Nero will be tainted with remorse, to hear and see her plaits, her brinish tears. "'I, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give.

"'She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, "'he on his right, asking a wife for Edward. "'She weeps and says her Henry is deposed. "'He smiles and says his Edward is installed. "'That she, poor wretch, for grief, can speak no more, "'while Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, "'infirth arguments of mighty strength, "'and in conclusion wins the king from her,

"'with promise of his seat. sister, and what else, to strengthen and support King Edward's place. O Margaret, thus twill be, and thou, poor soul, art then forsaken as thou wentst forlorn. So, what art thou that talkest of kings and queens? More than I seem, and less than I was born to, a man at least, for less I should not be, and men may talk of kings, and why not I? I, but thou talkest as if thou were to king. Why so I am in mind, and that's enough.

But if thou be a king, where is thy crown? My crown is in my heart, not on my head, not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen. My crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. Well, if you be a king crowned with content, your crown content and you must be contented to go along with us, for as we think you are the king King Edward hath deposed, and we his subjects sworn in all allegiance will apprehend you as his enemy.

But did you never swear and break an oath? No, never such an oath, nor will not now. Where did you dwell when I was King of England? Here in this country, where we now remain. I was anointed king at nine months old. My father and my grandfather were kings, and you were sworn true subjects unto me. And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?

No, for we were subjects, but while you were king. Why am I dead? Do I not breathe a man? Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear. Look, as I blow this feather from my face, and as the air blows it to me again, obeying with my wind when I do blow and yielding to another when it blows, commanded always by the greater gust,

such is the lightness of you common men. But do not break your oaths, for of that sin my mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. Go where you will. The king shall be commanded, and be you kings, command, and I'll obey. We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. So would you be again to Henry if he were seated as King Edward is?

We charge you, in God's name, and the kings, to go with us unto the officers. In God's name, lead. Your king's name be obeyed. And what God will, that let your king perform, and what he will, I humbly yield unto. Exeunt. Scene 2. London, the palace. Enter Kinghead with the Fourth, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady Grey. Brother of Gloucester, at St. Albans Field, this lady's husband, Sir Richard Gray, was slain. His lands then seized on by the conqueror. Her suit is now to repossess those lands, which we in justice cannot well deny, because in quarrel of the House of York,

the worthy gentleman did lose his life. Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit. It were dishonoured to denou. It was dishonoured to deny it were no less but yet i'll make a pause aside to clarence yeah is it so i see the lady hath a thing to grant before the king will grant her humble suit aside to gloucester he knows the game how true he keeps the wind aside to clarence silence widow we will consider of your suit and come some other time to know our mind bork delay may it please your highness to resolve me now and what your pleasure is shall satisfy me aside to clarence ay widow then i'll warrant you all your lands and if what pleases him shall pleasure you fight closer or good faith you'll catch a blow Aside to Gloucester. I fear her not, unless she chance to fall. Aside to Clarence.

God forbid that, for he'll take advantages. How many children hast thou, widow? Tell me. Aside to Gloucester. I think he means to beg a child of her. Aside to Clarence. Nay, whip me then, he'll rather give her two. Three, my most gracious lord. Aside to Clarence.

You shall have four if you'll be ruled by him. T'w'w'w'n't pity they should lose their father's lands. Be pitiful, dread, Lord, and grant it then. Lords, give us leave. I'll try this widow's wit. Aside to Clarence, I could leave have you, for you will have leave, till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.

Bloster and Clarence retire. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? I, full as dearly as I love myself. And would you not do much to do them good? To do them good I would sustain some harm. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. Therefore I came unto your majesty. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.

So shall you bind me to your highness service? What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? What you command that rests in me to do? But you will take exceptions to my boon. no gracious lord except i cannot do it ay but thou canst do what i mean to ask why then i will do what your grace commands aside to clarence he plies her hard and much rain wears the marble aside to gloucester as red as fire ne'er then her wax must melt why stops my lord shall i not hear my task an easy task tis but to love a king that soon performed because i am a subject why then thy husband's lands i freely give thee i take my leave with many thousand thanks aside to clarence the match is made she seals it with a kerchief but stay thee tis the fruits of love i mean the fruits of love i mean my loving liege ay but i fear me in another sense what love thinks thou i sue so much to get

my love till death my humble thanks my prayers that love which virtue begs and virtue grants no by my trough i did not mean such love why then you mean not as i thought you did but now you partly may perceive my mind my mind will never grant what i perceive your highness aims at if i aim aright to tell thee plain i aim to lie with thee to tell you plain i had rather lie in prison. Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower, for by that loss I will not purchase them. Therein thou wrongs thy children mightily. Herein, your highness, wrongs both them and me. But, mighty lord, this merry inclination accords not with the sadness of my suit.

Please you, dismiss me, either with aye or no. I, if thou wilt say aye to my request. No, if thou dost say no to my demand. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. Aside to Clarence. Though we don't like him not, she needs her brows. Aside to Gloucester.

He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom. Aside. Her looks do argue her replete with modesty. Her words do show her wit incomparable. All her perfections challenge sovereignty. One way or other, she is full. for a king, and she shall be my love, or else my queen. Say that King Edward take thee for his queen.

Tis better said than done, my gracious lord. I am a subject fit to jest withal, but far unfit to be a sovereign. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee, I speak no more than what my soul intends, and that is to enjoy thee for my love. And that isn't more than I will yield unto. I know I am too mean to be your queen, and yet too good to be your concubine. You cavil, widow, I did mean my queen. T'will grieve your grace, my sons should call you father.

No more than when my daughters call thee mother. Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children, and by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, have other some. Why, tis a happy thing to be the father unto many sons. answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. Aside to Clarence. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift. Aside to Gloucester.

When he was met a shriver, twas for shift. Brothers, you muse what chat we too have had. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. You'll think it's strange if I should marry her. To whom, my lord? Why, Clarence to myself. That would be ten days' wonder at the least. That's a dare longer than a wonder lasts. By so much is the wandering extremes.

Well, Jesson, brothers, I can tell you both, her suit is granted for her husband's lands. Enter a nobleman. My gracious Lord, Henry, your foe, is taken, and brought your prisoner to your palace gate. See that he be conveyed unto the tower, and we go, brothers, to the man that took him to question of his apprehension. Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. Excient all but Gloucester. Aye, Edward will use women honourably.

Would he were wasted marrow, bones and all, that from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, To cross me from the golden time I look for, And yet, between my soul's desire and me, the lustful Edward's title buried is Clarence Henry and his son-young Edward, and all the unlooked-for issue of their bodies, to take their rooms ere I can place myself a cold premeditation for my purpose. Why then I do but dream on sovereignty,

like one that stands upon a promontory, and spies afar off shore where he would tread, wishing his foot were equal with his eye, and chides the sea that sunders him from thence, saying he laid it dry to have his way. So do I wish the crown being so far off, and so I chide the means that keeps me from it, and so I say, I'll cut the causes off, flattering me with impossibilities. My eyes too quick,

my heart o'er weans too much, unless my hand and strength could equal them. Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard, what other pleasure can the world afford? I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, and deck my body in gay ornaments, and which sweet ladies with my words and looks o miserable thought and more unlikely than to accomplish twenty golden crowns why love for swore me in my mother's womb and for i should not deal in her soft laws she did corrupt frail nature with some bribe to shrink mine arm up like a withered shrub to make my wither'd shrub to make

make an envious mountain on my back, where sits deformity to mock my body, to shape my legs of an unequal size, to disproportion me in every part, like to a chaos or an unliked bear-welp, that carries no impression like the dam. And am I then a man to be beloved? O monstrous fall to harbor such a thought! then since this earth affords no joy to me but to command to check to overbear such as are a better person than myself i'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown and whilst i live to account this world but hell until my misshaped trunk that bears this head be round impaled with a glorious crown and yet i know not how to get the crown for many lives stand between me and home and i like one lost in a thorny wood that rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns

seeking away and straying from the way not knowing how to find the open air but toiling desperately to find it out torment myself to catch the english crown and from that torment i will free myself or you my way out with a bloody axe why i can smile and murder whilst i smile and cry content to that which grieves my heart and wet my cheeks with artificial tears and frame my face to all occasions i'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall i'll slay more sailors than the mermaid shall i'll slay more more gazers than the basilisk. I'll play the orator as well as Nestor. Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could, and like a sinon take another Troy. I can add colors to the chameleon, change shapes with protiffs for advantages, and set the murderous Machiavell to school. Can I do this and cannot get a crown? But were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.

Exit. Scene 3. France. King Louis XInty's Palace. Flourish. Enter King Louis XIllivan, his sister Bona, his admiral called Bourbon, Prince Edward, Queen Margaret and Oxford. King Louis XIllif the 11th sits and riseth up again.

Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret, sit down. Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state and birth, that thou should stand while Lewis doth sit. No, mighty king of France. Now Margaret must strike her sail And learn a while to serve where kings command. I was, I must confess,

Great Albion's queen in former golden days. But now, Miss Chance hath trod my title down, And with dishonour laid me on the ground. where I must take like seat unto my fortune, and to my humble seat conform myself. Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair? From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears and stops my tongue, while heart is drowned in cares. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, and sit thee by our side.

Seats her by him. Yield not thy neck to fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind still ride in triumph over all, mischance. Be plain Queen Margaret and tell thy grief. It shall be eased, if France can yield relief. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts, and give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. Now, therefore, be it known to,

to noble Lewis that Henry, sole possessor of my love, is of a king become a banished man, and forced to live in Scotland a forlorn, while proud, ambitious Edward, Duke of York, usurps the regal title and the seat of England's true-anointed lawful king. This is the cause that I, poor Margaret, with this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir, am come to crave thy just and lawful aid. and if thou fail us all our hope is done. Scotland hath will to help but cannot help. Our people and our peers are both misled.

Our treasures seized, our soldiers put to flight, And as thou seest ourselves in heavy plight. Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm, While we bethink a means to break it off. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe, The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee. Oh, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow, and see where comes the breeder of my sorrow.

Enter Warwick. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence? Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend. Welcome, brave Warwick, what brings thee to France? He descends, she arises. I now begins a second storm to rise, for this is he that moves both wind and tide. Romworthy Edward, king of Albion, my lord and sovereign, and thou vowed friend, I come, in kindness and unfeigned love, first to do greetings to thy royal person,

and then to crave a league of amity, and lastly to confirm that amity with a nuptial not, if thou vouchsafe to grant that virtuous lady Bonar, thy fair sister, to England's king in lawful marriage. Aside! Oh, if that go forward, Henry's hope is done. To Bona. And gracious madam, in our king's behalf, I am commanded, with your leave in favour, humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue to tell the passion of my sovereign's heart, where fame late entering at his heedful ears hath placed thy beauty's image and thy virtue.

King Louis, and Lady Bona hear me speak before you answer Warwick. His demand springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, but from deceit bred by necessity. For how can tyrant safely govern home unless abroad they purchase great alliance? To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice that Henry liveth still, But were he dead, yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son! Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour. For though usurpers sway the rule a while, yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs. Injurious, Margaret!

And why not, Queen? Because thy father Henry did usurp, and thou no more are prince than she is queen. then warwick disannelskrit john of gaunt which did subdue the greatest part of spain and after john of gaunt henry the fourth whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest and after that wise prince henry who by his provest conquered all france from these our henry linely descends oxford how hapset in this smooth discourse you told not how henry the sixth hath lost all that which henry fifth had gotten methinks these peers of france should smile at that but for the rest you tell a pedigree of threescore and two years a silly time to make prescription for a kingdom's worth why worry canst thou speak'st against thy liege whom thou obey'st thirty and six years and not betray thy treason with a blush can oxford that ever did fence the right now buckler falcord with a peregris for shame leave henry and call edward king call him my king by whose injurious doom my elder brother of the lord augrey verre was done to death and more than so my father even in the downfall of his mellowed years when nature brought him to the door of death no worry no once life upholds this arm this arm

upholds the house of Lancaster. And I, the house of York. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward and Oxford vouchsafe at our request to stand aside while I use further conference with Warwick. They stand aloof. Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not. Now Warwick, tell me,

even upon thy conscience is Edward, your true king. For I were loath to link with him that were not lawful chosen. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour. But is he gracious in the people's eye? The more that Henry was unfortunate. Then further, all dissembling set aside, Tell me for truth the measure of his love unto our sister, Bonar. Such it seems as may be seem a monarch like himself.

Myself have often heard him say and swear that this is love was an eternal plant, whereof the root was fixed in virtue's ground, the leaves and fruit maintained with beauty's son, exempt from envy but not from disdain, unless the lady Boner quit his pain. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. Your grant or your denial shall be mine. To worry.

Yet, I confess that, often ere this day, when I have heard your king's dessert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire. Then Warwick, thus, our sister shall be Edwards, And now forthwith shall articles be drawn touching the jointure that your king must make, Which with her dowry shall be counterpoised. Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness that Bonar shall be be wife, to the English king.

To Edward, but not to the English king. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device by this alliance to make void my suit. Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend. And still is friend to him and Margaret. But if your title to the crown be weak, as may appear by Edward's good success, then tis but reason that i be released from giving aid which late i promise it yet shall you have all kindness at my hand that your estate requires and mine can yield henry now lives in scotland at his ease where having nothing nothing can he lose and as for you yourself our quondam queen you have a father able to maintain you and best it were you troubled him than France.

Peace, impudent and shameless, Warwick, peace. Proud, set her up and pull her down of kings! I will not hence, till with my talk and tears both full of truth I make King Louis behold thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love. For both of you are birds of self-same feather. Post blows a horn within. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee. Enter a post.

My lord, ambassador, these letters are for you, sent from your brother Marcus Montague. To King Louis XI. These, from our king unto your majesty. To Queen Margaret. And, madam, these for you, from whom I know not. They all read their letters. I like it well that our fair queen and mistress smiles at her news while Warwick frowns at his. Nay, Mark Hal Lewis stamps as he were nettled, I hope all's for the best. Warrick, what are thy news? And yours, fair queen?

Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent. What, has your king married the Lady Grey? And now, to soothe your forgery and his, sends me a paper to besie. me, patience. Is this the alliance that he seeks with France? Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner? I told your majesty as much before. This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty. King Lewis, I hear protest inside of heaven, and by the hope I have of heavenly bliss, that I am clear from this misdeed of Edwards. No more my king, for he dishonours me.

but most himself if he could see his shame. Did I forget that by the house of York My father came untimely to his death? Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece? Did I impale him with the regal crown? Did I put Henry from his native right? And am I girded at the last with shame? Shame on himself, for my desert is honour,

and to repair my honour lost for him, I here renounce him, and return to Henry. My noble queen, let former grudges pass, and henceforth I am thy true servitor. I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona, and replant Henry in his former state. Warwick, these words have turned my hate to love,

and I forgive and quite forget old faults, and joy that thou becomethest King Henry's friend. So much his friend, I, his unfaunted friend, that if King Lewis vouchsafed To furnish us with some few bands of chosen soldiers, I'll undertake to land them on our coast, And force the tyrant from his seat by war.

It is not his new-made bride shall succour him. And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me, He's very likely now to fall from him For matching more for want and lust than honour, Or than for strength and safety of our country. dear brother how shall bona be revenged but by thy help to this distressed queen renown'd prince how shall poor henry live unless thou rescue him from foul despair my quarrel and this english queens are one and mine fair lady bona joins with yours and mine with hers and thine and margarots therefore at last i firmly am resolved you shall have aid oh let me give humble thanks for all at once then england's messenger return in post and tell false edward thy supposed king that louis of france is sending over maskers to revel it with him and his love

new bride. Thou seest what's past. Go fear thy king withal. Tell him in hope he'll prove a widower shortly. I'll wear the willow garland for his sake. Tell him my morning weeds are laid aside, and I am ready to put armour on. Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong, and therefore I'll uncrown him e'er to be long. There's thy reward. Be gone. Exit post. But Warwick, thou and Oxford, with five thousand men, shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward Battle. And as occasion serves, this noble queen and prince shall follow with a fresh supply. Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt, what pledge have we of thy firm loyalty? This shall assure my constant loyalty

That if our queen and this young prince agree I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy to him forthwith in holy wedlock bands Yes, I agree and thank you for your motion Son Edward she is fair and virtuous Therefore delay not give thy hand to Warwick And with thy hand thy faith irrevocable that only Warwick's daughter shall be thine Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it, and here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand. He gives his hand to Warwick.

Why stay we now, these soldiers shall be levied, and thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral, shall waft them over with our royal fleet. I long till Edward fall by war's mischance, for mocking marriage with the dame of France. Excient or but Warwick. I came from England as ambassador, but I return his sworn and mortal foe. Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me, but dreadful war shall answer his demand. Had he none else to make a stale but me, then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow. I was the chief that raised him to the crown, and all be chief to bring him down again,

not that I pity Henry's misery, but seek revenge on Edward's mockery. Exit. End of Act 3. Act 4 of Henry VI, Part 3, by William Shakespeare. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 4, Scene 1, London, the Palace.

Enter Gloucester, Clarence, Somerset and Montague. Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you of this new marriage with the Lady Grey? Hath not our brother made a worthy choice? Alas, you know tis far from hence to France. How could he stay till Warwick made return? My lords, forbear this talk, here comes the king. And his well-chosen bride? I mind to tell him plainly what I think.

Enter King Edward VIII attended Queen Elizabeth Pembroke, Stafford, Hastings and others. Now, Brother of Clarence, how like you are choice that you stand pensive as half-malkentent. As well as Louis of France or the Earl of Warwick, which are so weak of courage and in judgment that they'll take no offence at our abuse. Suppose they take offence without a cause. They are but Lewis and Warwick. I am Edward, your King and Warwick's, and must have a man. have my will. And shall have your will because our king, yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well. Yea, brother Richard.

Are you offended, too? Not I. No, God forbid that I should wish them severed, whom God hath joined together. I and were pity to sunder them that yoke so well together. Setting your scorns and your dislike aside. Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey should not. become my wife and England's queen. And you too, Somerset and Montague, speak freely what you think. Then this is my opinion, that King Lewis becomes your enemy for mocking him about the marriage

of the Lady Bonner. And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge, is now dishonoured by this new marriage. What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeased by such invention as I can devise? Yet, to have joined with friends in such alliance, would more have strengthened this, Commonwealth against throwing storms than any home-bred marriage. Why, knows not, Montague, that of itself, England is safe, if true within itself. But the safer when Tis backed with France. Tis better using France than trusting France. Let us be backed with God, and with the seas, which he hath given for fence impregnable, and with their helps, only defend ourselves.

In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies. for this one speech lord hastings well deserves to have the heir of the lord hungerford ay what of that it was my will and grant and for this once my will shall stand for law and yet methinks your grace hath not done well to give the heir and daughter of lord scales unto the brother of your loving bride she better would have fitted me or clarence but in your bride you bury brotherhood Or else you would not have bestowed the air of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son, and leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere. Alas, poor Clarence, is it for a wife that thou art malcontent? I will provide thee. In choosing for yourself you showed your judgment,

which being shallow you give me leave to play the broker in mine own behalf, and to that end I shortly mind to leave you. Leave me or Terry. Edward will be king, and not be tied unto his brother's will. My lords, before it pleased His Majesty to raise my state to title of the Queen, do me but right, and you must all confess that I was not ignoble of descent, and meaner than myself, have had like fortune, but as this title honors me and mine, sue your dislike to whom I would be pleasing, doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow. My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns what danger or what sorrow can befall thee. So long as Edward is thy constant friend and their true sovereign whom they must obey, nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too, unless they seek for hatred at my hands,

which, if they do yet, will I keep thee safe, and they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath. aside i hear yet say not much but think the more enter post now messenger what letters or what news from france myself have enliaged no letters and few words but such as i without your special pardon dare not relate go to we pardon thee therefore in brief tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them what answer makes king lewis unto our letters And my departure, these were his very words. Go tell Fars said with I suppose a king that Lewis of France is sending over maskers to revel it with him and his new bride.

Is Lewis so brave? Be like he thinks me Henry. But what said Lady Bona to my marriage? These were her words uttered with manders stain. Tell him in hope he'll prove a widow as shortly. I'll wear the widow, Garlane for his sake. I blame not her. She could say little less.

She had the wrong, but what said Henry's Queen, for I have heard that she was there in place. Tell him quote is she, My morning weeds are done, and I am ready to put more armour on. Be like she minds to play the Amazon. But what said Warwick to these injuries? He, more incestead against your majesty than all the rest, discharge me with these words. Tell him from me that he had done me wrong, and therefore all on crown him ever be long. ha durst the traitor breathe out so proud words will i will arm me being thus forewarned they shall have wars and pay for their presumption but say is warwick friends with margaret ay gracious sovereign they are so linked in friendship their young prince edward marie's daughter belike the elder clarence will have the younger now brother king farewell and sit you fast for i will hence to warwick's daughter

other daughter, that though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage I may not prove inferior to yourself. You that love me, and Warwick, follow me. Exit Clarence and Somerset follows. Aside, Not I. My thoughts aim at the further matter. I stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown. Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick. Yet am I armed against the worse can happen, and haste is needful in this desperate case. pembroke and stafford you in our behalf go levy men and make prepare for war they are already or quickly will be landed myself in person will straight follow you exeant pembert and stafford but ere i go hasting in montague resolve my doubt you twain of all the rest are near to warwick by blood and by allegiance tell me if you love warwick more than me if it be so then both depart to him i rather wish you foes than hollow friends but if you might

to hold your true obedience give me assurance with some friendly vow that I may never have you in suspect so god help Montague as he proves true and Hastings as he favors Edward's cause now brother Richard will you stand by us I in despite of all that shall withstand you why so then I am sure of victory now therefore let us hence and lose no hour till we meet Warwick with his foreign power Accent Scene 2 A plane in Warwickshire Enter Warwick and Oxford with French soldiers Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well The common people by numbers swarm to us

Enter Clarence and Somerset But see where Somerset and Clarence come Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends? Fear not that, my lord. Then gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick. and welcome Somerset. I hold it cowardice to rest mistrustful where a noble heart hath pawned an open hand in sign of love. Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother, were but a feigned friend to our proceedings. But welcome, sweet Clarence, my daughter shall be thine. And now what rest, but in a night's

coverture, thy brother being carelessly encamped, his soldiers lurky in the towns about, and but attended by a simple guard, we may surprise and take him at our pleasure. Our scouts have found the adventure very easy, that as Ulysses and stout Diomede, with slate and manhood stole to Reese's tents, and brought from thence the thrussy and fatal steeds, so we, well covered with the knight's black mantle,

at unawares may beat down Edward's guard and seize himself. I say not slaughter him, for I intend but only to surprise him. You that follow me on this attempt, applaud the name of Henry with your leader. They all cry, Henry. Why then, let's on our way in silent sort, for Warwick and his friends, God and St. George.

Accent Scene 3 Edward's camp near Warwick Enter three watchmen to guard King Edward VIII's tent. Come on, my masters, each man take his stand. The king by this has set him down to sleep. What, will he not to bed? Why no, for he hath made a solemn vow,

Never to lie, and take his natural rest, Till Warwick or himself be quite suppressed. Tomorrow, then, belike shall be the day, If Warwick be so near as men report. But say, I pray, What nobleman is that, That with the king he resteth in his tent? Tis the Lord Hastings, the king's chiefest friend.

Oh, is it so? but why commands the king that his chief followers lodge in towns about him while he himself keeps in the cold field tis the more honour because more dangerous ay but give me worship and quietness i like it better than a dangerous honour if warwick knew in what estate he stands tis to be doubted he would waken him unless our helbert's did shut up his passage ay well for else god wi his royal tent but to defend his person from night-fow's enter warwick clarence oxford somerset and french soldiers silent all this is his tent and see where stand his guard courage my masters and honour now or never but follow me and edward shall be ours who goes there stay author d'ist warwick and the rest cry all warwick warwick and set upon the guard who flies crying arm arm warwick and the rest following them the drum playing and trumpets sounding re-enter warwick somerset and the rest bringing king edward the fourth out in his gown sitting in a chair richard and hastings fly over the stage what are they the fly there richard and hastings let them go here is the duke the duke the duke why warwick when we parted thou calledst me king ay but the case is altered when you disgraced me in my emmerex Then I degraded you from being king, and come now to create you Duke of York.

Alas, how should you govern any kingdom that know not how to use ambassadors, nor how to be contented with one wife, nor how to use your brothers brotherly, nor how to study for the people's welfare, nor how to shroud yourself from enemies. Yea, brother of Clarence, thou are here too. Nay, then I see that Edward's needs must down. yet warwick in despite of all mischance of thee thyself and all thy accomplices edward will always bear himself as king though misfortune's malice overthrow my state my mind exceeds the compass of her wheel then for his mind be edward england's king takes off his crown but henry now shall wear the english crown and be true king indeed thou but the shadow my lord of somerset at my request say that forthwith duke edward be conveyed unto my brother archbishop of york when i have fought with pembroke and his fellows i'll follow you and tell you what answer lewis and the lady boner send to him now for a while farewell good duke of york

they lead him out forcibly what fate impose that men must needs abide it boots not to resist both wind and tide exit guarded what now remains my lord for us to do, but march to London with our soldiers? Aye, that's the first thing that we have to do, to free King Henry from imprisonment and see him seated in the regal throne. Excent Scene 4. London the Palace Enter Queen Elizabeth and Rivers. Madam, what makes you in the sudden change?

Why, Brother Rivers, are you yet to learn what late misfortune is befalmed, King Edward? What? Loss of some pitched battle against Warwick? No, but the loss of his own royal person. Then, is my sovereign slain? I almost slain, for he is taken prisoner, Either betrayed by falsehood of his guard, or by his foe surprised at unawares. And as I further have to understand, is new committed to the Bishop of York, Fell Warwick's brother, and by that our foe.

these news i must confess are full of grief yet gracious madam bear it as you may werwick may lose that now hath won the day till then fair hope must hinder life's decay and i the rather wean me from despair for love of edward's offspring in my womb this is it that makes me bridle passion and bear with mildness my misfortune's cross i Aye, for this I draw in, miniatere, and stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs, lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown King Edward's fruit, true heir to the English crown. But, madam, where is Warwick then become? I'm informed that he comes towards London, to set the crown once more on Henry's head. Guess thou the rest? King Edward's friends must down. but to prevent the tyrant's violence,

for trust not him that hath once broken faith, I'll hence forthwith into the sanctuary to save at least the heir of Edward's right. There shall I rest secure from force and fraud. Come, therefore, let us fly while we may fly. If warwick take us, we are sure to die. Excient Scene 5

A park near Middellum Castle in Yorkshire. enter gloucester hastings and stanley now my lord hastings and sir william stanley leave off to wonder why i drew you hither into this chiefest thicket of the park thus stands the case you know our king my brother is prisoner to the bishop here at whose hands he hath good usage and great liberty and often but attended with weak guard comes hunting this way to despot himself i have advertised him by secret means that if about this hour he makes his way under the colour of his usual game he shall here find his friends with horse and men to set him free from his captivity enter king edward the fourth and a huntsman with him this way my lord for this way lies the game nay this way man see where the huntsmen stand now brother of gloucester lord hastings and the rest stand you thus close and steal the bishop's dear brother the time and case requirth haste your horse stands ready at the park corner but whither shall we then to lynn my lord and ship from thence to flanders well guest believe me for that was my meaning stanley i will requite thy forwardness but wherefore stay we tis no time to talk huntsman what sayest thou wilt thou go along better do so than tarry and behind come then away let's ha no more ado bishop farewell shield thee from warwick's frown and pray that i may repossess the crown

scene six london the tower flourish enter king henry the sixth clarence warwick somerset henry of richmond oxford montague and left of the tower. Master Lieutenant, now that God and friends have shaken Edward from the regal seat and turned my captive state to liberty,

my fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys, at our enlargement what are thy due fees? Subjects may challenge nothing of their sovereigns, but if in humble prayer may prevail,

I then crave pardon of your majesty. For what, Lieutenant, for well using me? Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness, for that it made my imprisonment a pleasure. I, such a pleasure as incaged birds conceive, when, after many moody thoughts, at last by notes of household harmony, they quite forget their loss of liberty. But, Warwick, after God, thou sets me free,

and chiefly therefore I thank God and thee. He was the author, thou the instrument. Therefore, that I may conquer fortune spite by living low, where fortune cannot hurt me, and that the people of this blessed land may not be punished with my thwarting stars, Warwick, although my head still wear the crown, I here resign my government to thee, for thou art fortunate in all thy deeds. Your grace has still been feigned by virtuous, and now may seem as wise as virtuous, by spying and avoiding fortune's malice, for few men rightly temper with the stars.

Yet in this one thing, let me blame your grace for choosing me when Clarence is in place. No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway, to whom the heavens in thy nativity are judged an olive branch and laurel crown, as likely to be blessed in peace and war, and therefore I yield thee my free consent.

And I choose Clarence only for protector. Warwick and Clarence give me both your hands. Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts, that no dissension hinder government. I make you both protectors of this land, while I myself will lead a private life, and in devotion spend my latter days, to sins rebuke and my creator's praise. What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will? That he consents if Warwick yield consent, for on thy fortune I repose myself. why then though loath yet must i be content will yoke together like a double shadow to henry's body and supply his place i mean in bearing weight of government while he enjoys the honour and his ease

and clarence now then it is more than needful forthwith that ed would be pronounced a traitor and all his lands and goods be confiscate what else and that succession be determined ay their inclarance shall not want his part but with the first of all your chief affairs let me entreat for i command no more that margaret your queen and my son edward be sent for to return from france with speed for till i see them here by doubtful fear my joy of liberty is half eclipsed it shall be done my sovereign with all speed my lord of somerset what youth is that of whom you seem to have so tender care My liege, it is young Henry Earl of Richmond. Come hither, England's hope. Lays his hand on his head. If secret powers suggest but truth to my divining thoughts, this pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.

His looks are full of peaceful majesty, his head by nature framed to wear a crown, his hand to wield a scepter, and himself likely in time to bless a regal throne. Make much of him, my lords, for this is he must help you more than you are hurt by me. Enter a post. What news, my friend? That Edward is escaped from your brother and fled as he hastened to Burgundy.

Unsavory news, but how made he escape? He was conveyed by Richard Duke of Gloucester and Lord Hastings, who attended him in secret ambush on the far side, and from the bishop's huntsman rescued him, for hunting was his daily exercise. My brother was too careless of his charge, but let us hence, my sovereign, to provide a sow for any sore that may betide.

Exeunt all but Somerset, Henry of Richmond and Oxford. My lord, I like not of this flight of Edwards, for doubtless Burgundy will yield him help, and we shall have more wars before to be long. as henry's late presaging prophecy did glad my heart with hope of this young richmond so doth my heart misgiv me in these conflicts what may befall him to his harm and ours therefore lord oxford to prevent the worst forthwith will send him hence to brittany till storms be passed of civil enmity ay for if edward repossessed the crown disliked that richmond with the rest shall down it shall be so he shall to brittany come therefore let's about it speedily exeunt scene seven before york flourish enter king edward the fourth gloucester hastings and soldiers

now brother richard lord hastings and the rest yet thus far fortune maketh us amends and says that once more i shall interchange my waned state for henry's regal crown well have we passed and now repassed the seas and brought desired help from burgundy what then remains we being thus arrived from ravensburg haven before the gates of york but that we enter as into our dukedom the gates made fast brother i like not this for many men that stumble at the threshold are well foretold that danger lurks within tushman abodments must not now affright us by fair or foul means we must enter in, for hither will our friends repair to us. My liege, I'll knock once more, to summon them. Enter on the walls the mayor of York and his brethren. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming, and shut the gates for safety of ourselves. For now, we owe allegiance unto Henry.

But, Master Mayor, if Henry be your king, yet Edward at least is Duke of York. True, my good lord, I know you for no less. Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom as being well content with that alone. Aside. But when the fox hath once got in his nose, he'll soon find means to make the body follow. Why, Master Mayor, why stand you in a doubt? Open the gates. We are King Henry's friends. I, say you so, the gates shall then be opened.

They descend. A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded. The good old man would fain that all were well, So twere not long of him, but being entered, I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade both him and all his brothers unto reason. Enter the mayor and two aldermen below. So, master, mayor, these gates must not. be shut but in the night or in the time of war.

What, fear not, man, but yield me up the keys. Takes his keys. For Edward will defend the town and thee, and all those friends that deign to follow me. March. Enter Montgomery with drum and soldiers. Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery, our trusty friend, unless I be deceived. Welcome, Sir John, but why come you in arms? To help King Edward, in his time of storm, as every loyal subject owed to do.

Thanks, good Montgomery. But we now forget our title to the crown, and only claim our dukedom till God pleased to send the rest. Then fare you well, for I will hence again. I came to serve a king, and not a duke. Drummer, strike up, and let us march away. The drum begins to march. Nay, stay, Sir John a while. and we'll debate by what safe means the crown may be recovered what talk you of debating in few words if you'll not here proclaim yourself our king i'll leave you to your fortune and be gone to keep them back that come to succour you why shall we fight if you pretend no title why brother wherefore stand you on nice points when we grow stronger then we'll make our claim till then tis wisdom to conceal our meaning away with scrupulous wit. Now arms must rule.

And fearless minds climb soon as unto crowns. Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand. The brute thereof will bring you many friends. That be it as you will. For tis my right and Henry but usurps the diadem.

Aye, now my sovereign speaketh like himself. And now will I be Edward's champion. Sound trumpet. Edward shall be here proclaimed. Come, fellow soldier, make thou proclamation. Flourish. Edward the fourth, for the grace of God,

King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, true and just heir, Duke of York, Earl of March and Ulster. And whosoever again says King Edward's right, By this I tenant him to single fight. Throws down his gauntlet. long we be able to the wharf thanks brave montgomery and thanks unto you all if fortune serve me i'll requite this kindness now for this night let's harbor here in york and when the morning sun shall raise his car above the border of the horizon will forward towards warwick and his mates for will i wot that henry is no soldier ah forward clarence how evil it beseems thee to flatter henry and his and forsake thy brother.

Yet as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick. Come on, brave soldiers, doubt not of the day, and that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. Excient. Scene eight.

London, the palace. Flourish. Enter King Henry the 6th, Warwick, Montague, Clarence, Exeter and Oxford. What council, lords? Edward from Belgium, with hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders, hath passed in safety through the narrow seas,

and with his troops doth march ame to London, and many giddy people flock to him. Let's levy men and beat him back again. A little fire is quickly trodden out, which being suffered rivers cannot quench. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war. Those will I muster up.

and thou, son Clarence, shall stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, the knights and gentlemen to come with thee. Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find men well inclined to hear what thou commandest. And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well-beloved,

in Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends. My sovereign, with the loving citizens, like to his island, girt in with the ocean, or modest de'an circled with her nymphs, shall rest in London till we come to him. Fare lords take leave and stand not to reply. Farewell, my sovereign.

Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand. Well-minded, Clarence, be thou fortunate. Comfort, my lord, and so I take my leave. And thus I seal my truth, and bid adieu. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague, and all at once, once more a happy farewell.

Farewell, sweet lords, let's meet at Coventry. Excient all but King Henry VI and Exeter. Here at the palace I will rest a while. Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship? Methinks the power that Edward hathen field should not be able to encounter mine. The doubt is that he will seduce him. the rest? That's not my fear. My meed hath got me fame. I have not stopped mine ears to their demands, nor posted off their suits with slow delays. My pity hath been born to heal their wounds.

My mildness hath allayed their swelling griefs. My mercy dried their water-flowing tears. I have not been desirous of their wealth, nor much oppressed them with great subsidies, nor forward of revenge, though they much erred. Then why should they love Edward more than me. No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace. And when the lion fawns upon the lamb, the lamb will never cease to follow him. Shout within. A Lancaster, a Lancaster. Hark, hark, my lord. What shouts are these? Enter King Edward VIII, Gloucester and soldiers. Seiz on the shame-faced Henry, bear him hence, and once again proclaim us King of England. you are the fount that makes small brooks to flow thou stop's thy spring my sea shall suck them dry and swell so much the higher by their ebb hence with him in the tower let him not speak

exeunt some with king henry the sixth and lords toward coventry bend we are coarse where preemptory warwick now remains the sun shines hot and if we use delay cold-biting winter mars are hoped for hay Away be times before his forces join, and take the great-grown traitor unawares. Brave warriors march amane towards Cavendry. Excent End of Act 4 Act 5 of Henry VI, Part 3 by William Shakespeare. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 5, Scene 1. Coventry. Enter Warwick, the mayor of Coventry, two messengers, and the others upon the walls. Where is the post that came from Valley at Oxford? How far thence is thy lord, my honest fellow? By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherwood. How far off is our brother Montague?

Where is the post that came from Montague? By this at Daintree, with a puissant troop. Enter Sir John Somerville. See, Somerville, what says, may be. loving son, and by thy guess how nigh is Clarence now? At Sutham I did leave him with his forces, and do expect him here some two hours hints. Drumhead. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.

It is not his, my lord. Here Sutham lies. The drum your honour hears marcheth from Wurick. Who should that be, belike, and looked for friends. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. March. flourish enter king edward the fourth gloucester and soldiers go trumpet to the walls and sound a parley see how surly warwick mans the wall oh unbid spite his sportful edward come where slept our scouts so how they seduced that we could hear no news of his repair now warwick wilt thou ope the city gates speak gentle words and humbly bend thy knee call edward king and edward'st

hand beg mercy, and he shall pardon thee these outrages. Nay rather wilt thou draw thy forces hence, confess who set thee up, and pluck thee urn. Quor wanting patron and be penitent, and thou shalt still remain the Duke of York. I thought at least he would have said the king, or did he make the jest against his will? Is not adduke him, sir, a goodly gift? I, by my faith, for a poor earl to give, I'll do thee service for so good a gift. T'was I that gave the kingdom to thy brother. Why, then tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

Thou art no atlas for so great a weight, and weakling, Warwick takes his gift again, and Henry is my king, Warwick, his subject. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner. And gallant Warwick, do but answer this. what is the body when the head is off alas that warwick had no more forecast but whilst he thought to steal the single ten the king was slyly fingered from the deck you left poor henry at the bishop's palace and ten to one you'll meet him in the tower tis even so yet you are warwick still come warwick take the time kneel down kneel down nay when strike now or else the iron cools i had rather chopp this hand off at a blow and with the other fling it at thy face than bear so low a sail to strike at thee so how thou canst have wind and tide thy friend this hand fast wound about thy cold black hair shall whilst thy head is warm and new cut off right in the dust is sentenced with thy blood wind changing warwick now

can change no more enter Oxford with drummond colors oh cheerful colors see where Oxford comes Oxford Oxford for Lancaster he and his forces enter the city the gates are open let us enter too so other foes may set upon our backs stand we in good array for they no doubt will issue out again and bid us battle if not the city being but of small defense we'll quickly rouse the traders in the same O welcome Oxford, for we want thy help. Enter Montague with Drum and Colors. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster.

He and his forces enter the city. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason, even with the dearest blood your body spare. The harder matched, the greater victory. My mind presages happy gain and conquest. Enter Somerset with Drum and colors. Somerset, Somerset for Lancaster. He at his forces enter the city.

Two of thy name, Both dukes of Somerset have sold their lives unto the house of York, And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold. Enter Clarence with drum and colours. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along, A force enough to bid his brother battle, With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,

more than the nature of a brother's love. Come, Clarence, come, thou wilt if Warrick call. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? Taking a red rose out of his hat. Look here, I throw my infamy at thee. I will not ruinate my father's house, who gave his blood to lime the stones together, and set up Lancaster.

Why trouse thou, Warwick, that Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural, to bend the fatal instruments of war against his brother and his lawful king? Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath. To keep that oath were more impiety than Jephthers, when he sacrificed his daughter. I am so sorry for my trespass made, that to deserve well up my brother's hands, I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe, with resolution wheresoe'er I meet thee, and I will meet thee if thou stir abroad, to plague thee for thy foul misleading me.

and so proud-hearted warwick i defy thee and to my brother turn my blushing cheeks pardon me edward i will make amends and richard do not frown upon my faults for i will henceforth be no more unconstant now welcome more and ten times more beloved than if thou never hadst deserved our hate welcome good clarence this is brotherlike oh passing traitor perjured and unjust What, Warwick, will thou leave the town and fight? Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? Alas, I am not cooped here for defence. I would away towards Barnet presently and bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way. Lords, to the fields, St. George and victory.

Exeant King Edward and his company. March. Warwick and his company follow. Scene two. a field of battle near Barnet. Alorum and excursions Enter King Edward the Fourth, Bringing forth Warwick wounded. So, lie thou there,

Die thou, and die our fear, For Warwick was a bug that feared us all. Now, Montague, you sit fast, I seek for thee, That Warwick's bones may keep thine company. Exit. Ah, who is now? Come to me, pray,

or foe, and tell me who is Victor, York or Warwick? Why ask I that? My mangle body shows, My blood and my want of strength, My sick heart shows, That I must yield my body to the earth, And by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,

Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, whose top branch overpeer Job's spreading tree and kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. These eyes, that now are dimmed with death's black veil, have been as piercing as a midday sun to search the secret treasons of the world. The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood,

were likened off to kingly sepulchers, for who lived king, but I could dig his grave, And who durst mine when Warwick bent his brow? Lo, now my glory smeared in dust and blood. My parks, my walks, my manners that I had, Even now forsake me, out of all my lands, There's nothing left me but my body's length. Why, what is pomp, rule of rain but earth and dust?

And live how we can, yet die. die. We must. And to Oxford and Somerset. Ah, woe-rick, woe-rick, were thou as we are. We might recover all our loss again. The queen from France hath brought us a coercent power. Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!

Why, then, I would not fly. Ah, Montague, if thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, and with thy lips keep in my soul a while. Thou lovest me not. For, brother, if thou didst, thy tears would wash this cold, concealed blood that glues my lips, and will not let me speak.

Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead. Ah, Wurik, Montague hath breathed his last, and to the latest gasp cried out for Wurik, and said, commend me to my valiant brother. and more he would have said and more he spoke which sounded like a clamour in a vault that might not be distinguished but at last i will my hear delivered with a groan o farewell woe rick sweet rest his soul fly lords and save yourselves for what i bid you all farewell to meet in heaven dies away away to meet the queen's great power here they bear away his body exeunt scene three another part of the field flourish enter king edward the fourth in triumph with gloucester clarence and the rest thus far our fortune keeps an upward course and we are graced with wreaths of victory but in the midst of this bright shining day i spy a black suspicious threatening cloud that will encounter with our glorious sun ere he attain his

eastful western bed. I mean, my lords, those powers that the Queen hath raised in Galea have arrived our coast, and, as we hear, march on to fight with us. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud and blow it to the source from whence it came. The very beams will drive those vapours up, for every cloud engenders not a storm. The Queen is valued thirty thousand strong, and Somerset with Oxford fled to her. If she have time to breathe, Be well assured her faction will be full as strong as ours. We are advertised by our loving friends that they do hold their course toward Tewksbury. We have now the best at Barnet Field.

We'll thither straight for willingness Ridd's way, and, as we march, our strength will be augmented in every county as we go along. Strike up the drum! Cry, courage, and away! Xient! Scene four. Scene 4 Plains near Tewkesbury March Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, Somerset, Oxford and Soldiers. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, but cheerly seek how to redress their harms. What, though the mast be now blown overboard, the cable broke, the holding anchor lost,

and half our sailors swallowed in the flood. Yet lives our pilot still. Ist meet that he should leave the helm, And like a fearful lad, with tearful eyes, Add water to the sea, And give more strength to that which hath too much, Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock, Which industry and courage might have saved?

Ah, what a shame! Ah, what a fault were this! Say Warwick was our anchor. What of that? And Montague are topmast, What of him? Our slaughtered friends that tackles, what of these? Why is not Oxford here another anchor,

And Somerset another goodly mast? The friends of France are shrouds and tacklings? And, though unskilful, Why not Ned and I for once allowed the skilful pilots charge? We will not from the helm to sit and weep, But keep our course, Though the rough wind say no, from shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck,

as good to chide the waves as speak them fair, and what is Edward but ruthless sea? What Clarence but a quick sand of deceit, And Richard but a ragged, fatal rock! All these the enemies to our poor bark. Say you can swim, alas't is but a while. Tread on the sand, why there you quickly sink, bestride the rock, the tide will wash you off,

or else you famish that's a three-fold death this speak i lords to let you understand if case some one of you would fly from us that there's no hoped for mercy with the brothers more than with ruthless waves with sands and rocks why courage then what cannot be avoided twere child's weakness to lament or fear methinks a woman of this valiant spirit should if a coward heard her speak these words infuse his breast with magnanimity and make him naked foil a man at arms i speak not this as doubting any here for did i but suspect a fearful man he should have leave to go away betimes lest in our need he might infect another and make him of like spirit to himself if any such be here as god forbid let him depart before we need his help. Women and children of so high a courage, and warriors faint, why twere perpetual shame, O brave young prince, thy famous grandfather doth live again in thee, long mayst thou live, to bear his image and renew his glories. Will not fight for such a hope. Go home to bed, and like the owl by day, if he arise, be mocked and wondered at. thanks gentle somerset sweet oxford thanks and take his thanks that yet hath nothing else enter a messenger prepare your lords for edward is at hand ready to fight therefore be resolute

i thought no less it is his policy to haste thus fast to find us unprovided but he is deceived we are in readiness this cheers my heart to see your forwardness here pitch our battle hence we will not budge flourish and march enter king edward the fourth gloucester clarence and soldiers brave followers yonder stands the thorny wood which by the heaven's assistance and your strength must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night I need not add more fuel to your fire, for well I want ye blaze to burn them out. Give signal to the fight, and do it, lords. Lords, knights and gentlemen, what I should say my tears gainsay, For every word I speak ye see I drink the water of mine eyes. Therefore no more but this.

Henry, your sovereign, his prisoner to the foe, His state usurped, His realm a slaughterhouse, His subject slain, His statutes cancelled, and his treasure spent, And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil. You fight injustice. Then in God's name, lords, be valiant and give signal to the fight. Alorum, retreat, excursions, accent. Scene five, another part of the field. flourish enter king edward the fourth gloucester clarence and soldiers with queen margaret oxford and somerset prisoners now hear a period of tumultuous broils away with oxford to hames castle strait for somerset off with his guilty head go bear them hence i will not hear them speak for my part i'll not trouble thee with words nor i but stoop with patience to my fortune angst oxford and somerset guarded so part we sadly in this troublous world to meet with joy in sweet jerusalem

is proclamation made that who finds edward shall have a high reward and he his life it is and lo where youthful edward comes enter soldiers with prince edward bring forth the gallant let us hear him speak what can so young a thorn begin to prick edward what satisfaction canst thou make for bearing arms for stirring up my subjects and all the trouble thou hast turned me to speak like a subject proud ambitious yorke suppose that i am now my father's mouth resign thy chair and where i stand kneel thou whilst i propose the selfsame words to thee which traitor thou wast half me answer to Ah, that thy father had been so resolved. That you might still have worn the petticoat and never have stoned the breach from Lancaster. Let Asab fable in a winter's night. His courage riddle sort not with this place.

By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word. Aye, thou wast born to be a plague to men. For God's sake, take away this captive scold. Nay. Take away this scolding crook back, rather. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue. Untruted lad, thou art to Malapert. I know, my duty. You are all undutiful.

Lissivius Edward, and thou, perjured George, and thou, mischapen dick, I tell ye all, I am your better, traitors as ye are, and thou usurps my father's right and mine. Take that, thou likeness of this railer here. Stabbs him. Sprawls thou? Take that to end the agony.

Stabs him. And there's for twitting me with perjury. Stabbs him. Oh, kill me too. Marry and shall. Offers to kill her. Hold, Richard. Hold, for we have done too much.

Why should she live to fill the world with words? What, doth she swoon? Use means for her recovery. Clarence, Excuse me to the king, my brother. I'll hence to London on a serious matter. Here ye come there, be sure to hear some news. What? What?

The tower, the tower. Exit. Oh, Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy mother, boy. Canst thou not speak? Oh, traitors, murderers! They that stabbed Caesar shed no blood at all, did not offend nor were not worthy blame, if this foul deed were by to equal it. He was a man, this in respect a child, and men there spend their fury on a child.

What's worse than murderer that I may name it? No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak, and I will speak that so my heart may burst. Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals! How sweet a plant have you untimely cropped! You have no children, butchers! If you had the thought of them would have stirred up remorse! But if you ever have chance to have a child, look in this youth to have him so cut off as deathmen

you have rid this sweet young prince! Away with her. Go bear her hence perforce. Nay, never bear me hence. Dispatch me here. Here sheath thy sword. I'll pardon thee my death. What, wilt thou not? Then, Clarence, do it thou. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease. Good Clarence do, sweet Clarence, do thou do it. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it?

I bet thou usest to forswear thyself. T'was sin before, but now tis charity. What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil's butcher, hard-favoured Richard? Richard, where art thou? Thou art not here. Murder is thy alms deed, petitioners for blood thou ne'er puts back. Away, I say.

I charge ye, bear her hence. So come to you and yours as to this prince. Exit led out forcibly. Where's Richard gone? To London, all impulsed. And as I guess, to make a bloody supper in the town. He's sudden if a thing comes in his head. Now march we hence.

Discharge the common sort with pay and thanks, and lets away to London, and see our gentle queen how well she fares. By this, I hope she hath a son for me. Excent. Scene 6. London, the Tower. Enter King Henry VI and Gloucester with the left tenant on the walls. Good day, my lord. What at your book so hard? heart? Aye, my good lord. My lord, I should say rather, tis sin to flatter. Good was a little better.

Good Gloucester and good devil were alike, and both preposterous, therefore not good lord. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves, we must confer. Exit, Lieutenant. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf. So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece and next his throat under the butcher's knife. What scene of death hath Roshius now to act? Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind. The thief doth fear each bush an officer. The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings, misdoubteth every bush. And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, have now the fatal object in my eye,

where my poor young was limed, was caught and killed. Why, what a peevish fool was that of, Crete that taught his son the office of a fowl, and yet for all his wings the fool was drowned. I, deadelis, my poor boy Icarus, thy father Minos that denied our course, the son that seared the wings of my sweet boy, thy brother Edward, and thyself the sea whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words. My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, then can my ears that tragic history? But wherefore dost thou come? Is't for my life? Think'st thou I am an executioner? A persecutor, I am sure thou art. If murdering innocence be

executing, why then thou art an executioner? Thy son I killed for his presumption. Hats thou been killed when first thou didst presume thou hadst not live to kill a son of mine. And thus I prophesy that many of you. a thousand which now mistrust no parcel of my fear, and many an old man sigh, and many a widows, and many an orphan's water-standing eye, men for their sons, wives for their husbands, and orphans for their parents' timeless death, shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shrieked at thy birth, an evil sign, the night-crow cried aboding luckless time. "'Dogs howled, and Hidges' tempest shook down trees.

"'The raven rooked her in the chimney's top "'and chattering pies in dismal discord sung. "'Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, "'and yet brought forth less than a mother's hope, "'to wit, an indigested and deformed lump, "'not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. "'Teeth hath thou in thy head when thou wast born, "'to signify thou camst to bite the world,

and if the rest be true which i have heard thou camest i'll hear no more die prophet in thy speech for this amongst the rest was i ordained stabs him ay and for much more slaughter after this god forgive my sins and pardon thee dies what will the aspiring blood of lancaster sink in the ground i thought it would have mounted. See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death. Oh, may such purple tears be always shed from those that wish the downfall of our house. If any spark of life be yet remaining, Down, down to hell, and say I sent thee thither. Stopped him again. I that have neither pity love nor fear indeed tis true that henry told me of for i have often heard my mother say i came into the world with my legs forward had i not reason think ye to make haste and seek the ruin that usurped our right the midwife wondered and the women cried o jesus bless us he is born with teeth and so i was

which plainly signified that I should snarl and bite and play the dog. Then since the heavens have shaped my body so, let hell make crook my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I'm like no brother, and this word love which grey bears call divine, be resident in men like one another, and not in me. I am myself alone. Clarence beware, thou keep'st me from the light.

But I will sort a pitchy day for thee, For I will bus abroad such prophecies That Edward shall be fearful of his life. And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death. King Henry and the prince, his son, are gone. Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest. counting myself but bad till i be best i'll throw thy body in another room and triumph henry in thy day of doom exit with the body scene seven london the palace flourish enter king edward the fourth queen elizabeth clarence gloucester hastings a nurse of the young prince and attendants

once more we sit in england's royal throne repurchased with the blood of enemies what valiant foemen like to autumn's corn we have mowed down in tops of all their pride three dukes of somerset threefold renown for hardy and undoubted champions two cliffords as the father and the sun and two northumberlands two braver men ne'er spurred their coursers at the trumpet sound with them the two brave bears warwick and montague that in their chains fettered the kingly lion and made the forest tremble when they roared thus have we swept suspicion from our seat and made our footstool of security come hither bess and let me kiss my boy young ned for thee thine uncles and myself have in our armors watched the winter's night went all afoot in summer's scalding heat that thou mightst repossess the crown in peace and of our labours thou shalt reap the game aside i'll blast his harvest if your head were laid for yet i'm not looked on in the world this shoulder was ordained so thick to heave and heave it shall some way or break my back work thou the way and thou shalt execute clarence and Gloucester love my lovely queen and kiss your princely nephew brothers both the duty that I owe unto your majesty I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe

Thanks noble Clarence worthy brother thanks and that I love the tree from whence thou sprangest witness the loving kiss I give the fruit aside to say the truth so judas kissed his master and cried all hail when as he meant all harm now i am seated at my soul's delight having my country's peace and brothers loves what will your grace have done with margaret renear her father to the king of france hath pawned the sisles in jerusalem and hither have they sent it for her ransom away with her and waft her hence to france and now what rests but that we spend the time with stately triumphs mirthful comic shows such as befits the pleasure of the court sound the drums and the trumpets farewell sour and oi for here i hope begins our lasting joy exeunt end of act five end of henry the sixth part three by william shakespeare