Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch,
In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
But fet his murth'ring knife unto the root

From whence that tender fpray did fweetly fpring;
I mean our princely father Duke of York.

War. From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
Your father's head, which Clifford placed there:
Inftead whereof let his fupply the room.
"Measure for measure must be answered.

Edw. Bring forth that fatal fcreech-owl to our house, That nothing fung but death to us and ours. Now death fhall ftop his difmal threat'ning found, And his ill-boding tongue no more fhall speak. War. I think his understanding is bereft. Speak, Clifford, doft thou know who fpeaks to thee? Dark cloudy death o'erfhades his beams of life, And he nor fees nor hears us what we fay.

Rich. O would he did! and fo perhaps he doth. 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit ;

words.

Because he would avoid fuch bitter taunts,
As in the time of death he gave our father.
Cla. If fo thou think'ft, vex him with eager
Rich. Clifford, afk mercy, and obtain no grace.
Edw. Clifford, repent in bootlefs penitence.
War. Clifford, devife excuses for thy faults.
Cla. While we devife fell tortures for thy faults.
Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am fon to York.
Ed. Thou pitied'ft Rutland, I will pity thee.
Cla. Where's Captain Margaret to fence you now?
War. They mock thee, Clifford, fwear as thou waft

wont.

Rich. What, not an oath! nay, then the world goes When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. [hard, I know by that he's dead; and, by my foul,

If this right hand would buy but two hours' life,
That I in all defpight might rail at him,

This hand fhould chop it off; and with the iffuing blood
Stifle the villain, whofe unftaunched thirst

York and young Rutland could not fatisfy.

War. 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 fhall Warwick cut the fea to France,
And ask the Lady Bona for thy Queen.

So fhalt thou finew both thefe lands together.
And having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again :

For though they cannot greatly fting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buzz t'offend thine ears..
First will I fee the coronation;

And then to Britany I'll cross the fea,
T'effect this marriage, fo it please my Lord.

Edw. Ev'n as thou wilt, fweet Warwick, let it be ; For on thy fhoulder do I build my feat:

And never will I undertake the thing,

Wherein thy counsel and confent is wanting..
Richard, I will create thee Duke of Glo'fter;

And George, of Clarence; Warwick as ourfelf
Shall do and undo, as him pleaseth best.

Rich. Let me be Duke of Clarence; George, of

Glo'fter;:

For Glo'fter's dukedom is too ominous.

War. Tut, that's a foolish obfervation:

Enter Sinklo and Humphry, with cross bows in their hands.

Sink.

Nder this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourfelves,

Under

For through this laund anon the deer will come;
And in this covert will we make our fland,
Culling the principal of all the deer.

Hum. I'll ftay above the hill, fo both may fhoot.
Sink. That cannot be: the noife of thy cross-bow-

Will fcare the herd, and so my fhoot is loft:
Here ftand we both, and aim we at the best.

And, for the time fhall not feem tedious,

I'll tell thee what befel me on a day,

In this felf-place where now we mean to ftand.
Hum. Here comes a man, let's stay till he be pass'd.

Enter King Henry, with a prayer-book.

K. Henry. From Scotland am I ftol'n ev'n of pure To greet mine own land with my wifhful fight. [love, No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;

Thy place is fill'd, thy fceptre wrung from thee;
Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou waft anointed.
No bending knee will call thee Cæfar now,
No humble fuitors prefs to speak for right:
No, not a man comes for redress to thee;
For how can I help them, and not myself?

Sink. Ay here's a deer, whose skin's a keeper's fee: This is the quondam King, let's feize upon him.

K. Henry. Let me embrace these four adverfities; For wife men fay it is the wifeft course.

Hum. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. Sink. Forbear a while, we'll hear a little more.

K Henry. My Queen and fon are gone to France for
And, as i hear, the great commanding Warwick [aid :
1. thither gone to crave the French King's fifter
To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
Poor Queen and fon! your labour is but loft:
For Warwick is a fubtle orator;

And Lewis a prince foon won with moving words.
By this account, then, Margaret may win him,
For fhe's a woman to be pitied much :
Her fighs will make a batt'ry in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tyger will be mild while fhe doth mourn;
And Nero would be tainted with remorse,
To hear and fee her plaints, her brinifh tears.
Ay, but the's come to beg, Warwick to give:
She on his left fide craving aid for Henry;
He on his right asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and fays, her Henry is depos'd;
He fmiles, and fays, his Edward is install'd ;
That fhe, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more!
While warwick tells his title, fmooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty ftrength,

And in conclufion wins the King from her,
With promife of his fifter, and what elfe,

To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
O Margret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor foul,
Art then forfaken, as thou went'st forlorn.

Hum. Say, what art thou that talk'st of Kings and › Queens!

K. Henry. More than I feem, and lefs than I was A man at least, for less I fhould not be; [born to; And men may talk of Kings, and why not I?

Hum. Ay, but thou talk'it as if thou wert a King. K. Henry. Why, fo I am in mind, and that's enough. Hum. But if thou be a king, where is thy crown? K: Henry. My crown is in my heart, not on my head: Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones; Not to be seen my crown is call'd Content; A crown it is that feldom Kings enjoy.

Hum. Well, if you be a King crown'd 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 depos'd:
And we his fubjects, fworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy..

K. Henry. But did you never fwear, and break an oath?
Hum. No, never such an oath, nor will not now.
K. Henry. Where did you dwell when I was King of
England?

Hum. Here in this country where we now remain.
K. Henry. I was anointed King at nine months old,
My father and my grandfather were Kings;
And you were sworn true fubjects unto me :
And tell me then, have you not broke your oaths?
Sink. No, we were subjects but while you were King.
K. Henry. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man?
Ah, fimple 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 gult;
Such is the lightueis of you common then,
But do not break your oaths, for of that fin

My mild intreaty fhall not make you guilty.

Go where you will, the King fhall be commanded;
And be you Kings, command, and I'll obey.

Sink. We are true fubjects to the King, King Edward..
K. Henry, So would you be again to Henry,

If he were feated as King Edward is.

Sink. We charge you in God's name, and in the King's, To go with us unto the officers.

K. Henry, In God's name lead, your King's name be

obey'd;

And what God will, that let your King perform;
And what he will, I humbly yield unto.

[Exeunt,

SCENE II: Changes to the palace.

Enter King Edward, Gloucester, Clarence, and Lady
Gray.

K. Edw. Brother of Glo'fter, at St Alban's field.
This lady's husband, Sir John Gray, was flain,
His land then feiz'd on by the conqueror:
Her fuit is now to repoffefs thofe lands;
Which we in juftice cannot well deny ;
Becaufe, in quarrel of the house of York,
The worthy gentleman did lofe his life..

Glo.. Your Highness fhall do well to grant her fuit:It were dishonour to deny it her.

K. Edw. It were no lefs; but yet I'll make a pause.
Glo.. Yea! is it fo?

I fee the lady hath a thing to grant:

Before the King will grant her humble fuit.

Clar. He knows the game; how true he keeps the

Glo. Silence.

[wind.. K. Edw. Widow, we will confider of your suit, And come fome other time to know our mind.

Gray. Right gracious Lord, I cannot brook delay. May't pleafe your Highnels to refolve me now; And what your pleasure is fhail fatisfy me.

Glo. Ay, widow! then I'll warrant you all your lands, An' if what pleafes him fhall plea/ure you: Fight clofer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.

*Vid. Hall, 3d year of Edw. IV. folio 5. It was hitherto falfe ly printed Richard. Mr Pope.