Unreasonable creatures feed their young,
And tho' 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 fometimes they have us'd with fearful flight)
Make war with him that climb'd unto their neft,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my Liege, make them your prefident.
Were it not pity, that this goodly boy
Should lose his birth-right by his father's fault,
And long hereafter say unto his child,
What my great-grandfather and grandfire got,
My careless father fondly gave away?
Ah, what a shame was this! look on the boy,
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Succefsful fortune, steel thy melting heart
To hold thine own, and leave thine own 'to him.
K. Henry. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,

:

Inferring arguments of mighty force:
But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,
That things'ill-gotten have had bad success?
And happy always was it for that fon,
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
I'll leave my fon 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 thousand-fold more care to keep,
Than in poffeffion any jot of pleasure.
Ah, cousin York, would thy best friends did know
How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!

Q. Mar. My Lord, cheer up your spirits, our foes are nigh,
And this foft courage makes your followers faint:
You promis'd Knighthood to our forward fon,
Unfheath your fword, and dub him presently.
Edward, kneel down.

K. Henry. Edward Plantagenet, arise a Knight, And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right.

Prince. My gracious father, by your kingly leave,

I'll draw it as Apparent to the crown,

And in that quarrel use it to the death.

Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward Prince.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Royal commanders, be in readiness; For with a band of thirty thousand 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. Darraign your battel, they are near at hand. Clif. I would your Highness would depart the field: The Queen hath best success when you are abfent. Q. Mar. Ay, good my Lord, and leave us to our fortune. K. Henry. Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. North. Be it with resolution then to fight. Prince. My royal father, cheer these noble Lords, And hearten those that fight in your defence: Unsheath your fword, good father; cry St. George!

March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, Clarence, Norfolk, Montague, and Soldiers.

Edw. Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace, And set thy diadem upon my head; Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?

Q. Mar. Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy. Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms Before thy Sovereign and thy lawful King?

Edw. I am his King, and he should bow his knee;

I was adopted heir by his consent;
Since when his oath is broke: for, as I hear,
You that are King, though he do wear the crown,

Have caus'd him by new act of Parliament

To blot out me and put his own son in.

L

:

Clif. And reason too :

Who should fucceed the father, but the fon?

Rich. Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak.
Clif. Ay crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,

Or any he the proudest of thy fort.

Rich. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?
Clif. Ay, and old York, and yet not fatisfy'd.
Rich. For God's fake, Lords, give signal to the fight.
War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the
[you speak?

crown?

Q. Mar. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick, dare
When you and I met at St. Albans laft,
Your legs did better service than your hands.

War. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.
Clif. You faid fo much before, and yet you fled.
War. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
North. No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.
Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.

Break off the parley, 9 'scarce I can refrain
The execution of my big-fwoln heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

Clif. I flew thy father, call'st thou him a child?
Rich. Ay, like a daftard and a treacherous coward,

As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland:
But ere fun set I'll make thee curse the deed.

[fpeak.
K.Henry. Have done with words, my Lords, and hear me
Q. Mar. Defie them then, or else hold close thy lips.
K. Henry. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue;

I am a King, and privileg'd to fpeak.

Clif. My Liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
Cannot be cur'd by words, therefore be still.
Rich. Then, execution, re-unsheath thy fword:
By him that made us all, I am resolv'd
That Clifford's manhood lyes upon his tongue.
Edw. Say, Henry, shall I have my right or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day,
That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.

War. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head! For York in justice puts his armour on.

Prince. If that be right which Warwick says is right, There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

Rich. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands, For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.

Q. Mar. But thou art neither like thy fire nor dam, But like a foul mishapen stigmatick, Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, As venomous toads, or lizards dreadful stings. Rich. Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, Whose father bears the title of a King. (As if a channel should be call'd the sea) Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?

Edw. A wifp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, To make this shameless callat know her felf. Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, Although thy husband may be Menelaus; And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd By that false woman, as this King by thee. His father revell'd in the heart of France, And tam'd the King, and made the Dauphin stoop: And had he match'd according to his state, He might have kept that glory to this day. But when he took a beggar to his bed, And grac'd thy poor fire with his bridal day, Even then that fun-shine brew'd a show'r for him, That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, And heap'd sedition on his crown at home: For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? Hadst thou been meek, our title still had flept,

And we in pity of the gentle King

Had flipt our claim until another age.

Cla. But when we faw our fun-shine made thy spring,

And that thy fummer bred us no increase,

We set the ax to thy ufurping root;

And though the edge hath something hit our selves,

Yet

Yet know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave 'till we have hewn thee down,
Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.

Edw. And in this resolution I defie thee,

Not willing any longer conference,
Since thou deny'dit the gentle King to fpeak.
Sound trumpets, let our bloody colours wave,
And either victory or else a grave.

Q. Mar. Stay, Edward

Edw. No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay.

These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.

[Exeunt omnes.

A Field of Battle.

Alarum. Excursions. Enter Warwick.

War. Fore-spent with toil, as runners with a race,
I lay me down a little while to breathe :

For strokes receiv'd and many blows repaid
Have robb'd my strong-knit finews of their strength,
And fpight of spight needs must I rest a while.

Enter Edward running.

Edw. Smile, gentle heav'n; or strike, ungentle death; For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. War. How now, my Lord, what hap? what hope of good?

Enter Clarence.

Cla. Our hap is loss, our hope but fad despair,

Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us.

What counsel give you? whither shall we fly?

Edw. Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings;

And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit.