The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE V.
Enter the _King_ and _Queene_, Prince _Edward_, and the Northerne Earles, with drum and Souldiers. _Quee._ Welcome my Lord to this braue town of _York_. Yonders the head of that ambitious enemie, [eae002] That sought to be impaled with your crowne. Doth not the obiect please your eie my Lord? _King._ Euen as the rockes please them that feare their wracke. ·eae005· Withhold reuenge deare God, tis not my fault, Nor wittinglie haue I infringde my vow. _Clif._ My gratious Lord, this too much lenitie, And harmefull pittie must be laid aside, To whom do Lyons cast their gentle lookes? ·eae010· Not to the beast that would vsurpe his den. Whose hand is that the sauage Beare doth licke? Not his that spoiles his young before his face. Whose scapes the lurking serpentes mortall sting? [eae014] Not he that sets his foot vpon her backe. ·eae015· The smallest worme will turne being troden on, And Doues will pecke, in rescue of their broode. Ambitious _Yorke_ did leuell at thy Crowne, Thou smiling, while he knit his angrie browes. He but a Duke, would haue his sonne a king, ·eae020· And raise his issue like a louing sire. Thou being a king blest with a goodlie sonne, Didst giue consent to disinherit him, Which argude thee a most vnnaturall father. Vnreasonable creatures feed their yong, ·eae025· And though mans face be fearefull to their eies, Yet in protection of their tender ones, Who hath not seene them euen with those same wings Which they haue sometime vsde in fearefull flight, Make warre with him, that climes vnto their nest, ·eae030· Offring their owne liues in their yongs defence? For shame my Lord, make them your president, Were it not pittie that this goodlie boy, should lose his birth right through his fathers fault? [eae034] And long hereafter saie vnto his child, ·eae035· What my great grandfather and grandsire got, My carelesse father fondlie gaue awaie? Looke on the boy and let his manlie face, Which promiseth successefull fortune to vs all, Steele thy melting thoughtes, ·eae040· To keepe thine owne, and leaue thine owne with him.
_Clif._ I would your highnesse would depart the field, The _Queene_ hath best successe when you are absent. _Quee._ Do good my Lord, and leaue vs to our fortunes. _King._ Why thats my fortune, therefore Ile stay still. [eae074] _Clif._ Be it with resolution then to fight. ·eae075· _Prince._ Good father cheere these noble Lords, Vnsheath your sword, sweet father crie Saint _George_. _Clif._ Pitch we our battell heere, for hence wee will not moue. Enter the house of _Yorke_. _Edward._ Now periurde _Henrie_ wilt thou yeelde thy crowne, [eae079] And kneele for mercie at thy soueraignes feete? ·eae080· _Queen._ Go rate thy minions proud insulting boy, Becomes it thee to be thus malepert, Before thy king and lawfull soueraigne? _Edw._ _I_ am his king, and he should bend his knee, I was adopted heire by his consent. ·eae085· _George._ Since when he hath broke his oath. For as we heare you that are king Though he doe weare the Crowne, Haue causde him by new act of Parlement [eae089] To blot our brother out, and put his owne son in. ·eae090· _Clif._ And reason _George_. Who should succeede the father but the son? [eae091] _Rich._ Are you their butcher? [eae092] _Clif._ _I Crookbacke_, here I stand to answere thee, or any [eae093] of your sort. _Rich._ Twas you that kild yong _Rutland_, was it not?
_George._ But when we saw our summer brought the gaine, [eae156] And that the haruest brought vs no increase, We set the axe to thy vsurping root, And though the edge haue something hit our selues, Yet know thou we will neuer cease to strike, ·eae160· Till we haue hewne thee downe, Or bath’d thy growing with our heated blouds. _Edw._ And in this resolution, I defie thee, Not willing anie longer conference, [eae164] Since thou deniest the gentle king to speake. ·eae165· Sound trumpets, let our bloudie colours waue, And either victorie or else a graue. _Quee._ Staie _Edward_ staie. _Edw._ Hence wrangling woman, Ile no longer staie, [eae169] Thy words will cost ten thousand liues to daie. ·eae170· _Exeunt Omnes._ Alarmes.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.