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The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare

SCENE IV.

_Mes._ Oh one that was a wofull looker on, ·ead025· When as the noble Duke of _Yorke_ was slaine. _Edw._ O speake no more, for I can heare no more. _Rich._ Tell on thy tale, for _I_ will heare it all. _Mes._ When as the noble Duke was put to flight, And then pursu’de by _Clifford_ and the _Queene_, ·ead030· And manie souldiers moe, who all at once Let driue at him and forst the Duke to yeeld: [ead032] And then they set him on a molehill there, And crownd the gratious Duke in high despite, Who then with teares began to waile his fall. ·ead035· The ruthlesse _Queene_ perceiuing he did weepe, Gaue him a handkercher to wipe his eies, Dipt in the bloud of sweet young _Rutland_ By rough _Clifford_ slaine: who weeping tooke it vp. _T_hen through his brest they thrust their bloudy swordes, ·ead040· Who like a lambe fell at the butchers feete. Then on the gates of _Yorke_ they set his head, And there it doth remaine the piteous spectacle That ere mine eies beheld. _Edw._ Sweet Duke of _Yorke_ our prop to leane vpon, ·ead045· Now thou art gone there is no hope for vs: Now my soules pallace is become a prison. Oh would she breake from compasse of my breast, For neuer shall I haue more ioie.

_Edw._ Thankes gentle _Warwike_. How farre hence is the Duke with his power? ·ead110· And when came _George_ from _Burgundie_ to _England_? _War._ Some fiue miles off the Duke is with his power, But as for your brother he was latelie sent From your kind Aunt, Duches of _Burgundie_, With aide of souldiers gainst this needfull warre. [ead115] _Rich._ Twas ods belike, when valiant _Warwike_ fled. Oft haue I heard thy praises in pursute, But nere till now thy scandall of retire. _War._ Nor now my scandall _Richard_ dost thou heare, For thou shalt know that this right hand of mine, ·ead120· Can plucke the Diadem from faint _Henries_ head, And wring the awefull scepter from his fist: Were he as famous and as bold in warre, As he is famde for mildnesse, peace and praier. _Rich._ I know it well Lord _Warwike_ blame me not, ·ead125· Twas loue I bare thy glories made me speake. But in this troublous time, whats to be done? [ead127] Shall we go throw away our coates of steele, And clad our bodies in blacke mourning gownes, Numbring our _Auemaries_ with our beades? ·ead130· Or shall we on the helmets of our foes, Tell our deuotion with reuengefull armes? _I_f for the last, saie _I_, and to it Lords.

_War._ Why therefore _Warwike_ came to find you out, And therefore comes my brother _Montague_. ·ead135· Attend me Lords, the proud insulting Queene, With _Clifford_, and the haught _Northumberland_, And of their feather manie mo proud birdes, [ead138] Haue wrought the easie melting king like waxe. He sware consent to your succession, ·ead140· His oath inrolled in the Parliament. But now to London all the crew are gone, To frustrate his oath or what besides [ead143] May make against the house of _Lancaster_. Their power _I_ gesse them fifty thousand strong. ·ead145· Now if the helpe of _Norffolke_ and my selfe, Can but amount to 48. thousand, [ead147] With all the friendes that thou braue earle of _March_, Among the louing Welshmen canst procure, Why via, To London will we march amaine, ·ead150· And once againe bestride our foming steedes, And once againe crie charge vpon the foe, But neuer once againe turne backe and flie. _Rich._ I, now me thinkes I heare great _Warwike_ speake: Nere maie he liue to see a sunshine daie, ·ead155· _T_hat cries retire, when _Warwike_ bids him stay. _Edw._ Lord _Warwike_, on thy shoulder will I leane, And when thou faints, must _Edward_ fall: [ead158] Which perill heauen forefend. _War._ No longer Earle of _March_, but Duke of _Yorke_, ·ead160· The next degree, is Englands royall king: [ead161] And king of England shalt thou be proclaimde, In euery burrough as we passe along: And he that casts not vp his cap for ioie, Shall for the offence make forfeit of his head. [ead165] King _Edward_, valiant _Richard_, _Montague_, Stay we no longer dreaming of renowne, But forward to effect these resolutions. Enter a Messenger. _Mes._ The Duke of _Norffolke_ sends you word by me, The _Queene_ is comming with a puissant power, ·ead170· And craues your companie for speedie councell. _War._ Why then it sorts braue Lordes. Lets march away. [ead172] _Exeunt Omnes._

Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.

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