Imagini ale paginilor

We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
And will, that thou henceforth attend on us.
Iden. May Iden live to merit fuch a bounty,
And never live but true unto his Liege!

K, Henry. See, Buckingham, Somerfet comes with the Queen;

Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.


[Exit Buck,


Enter Queen Margaret and Somerset.

Q. Mar. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,

But boldly stand and front him to his face.

York. How now? is Somerfet at liberty?
Then, York, unloofe thy long imprifon'd thoughts,
And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
Shall I endure the fight of Somerfet?

Falfe King why haft thou broken faith with me,
Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
King did I call thee? no, thou art no King,
Nor fit to govern and rule multitudes,

Which durft not, no, nor can't not rule a traitor,
That head of thine doth not become a Crown,
Thy hand is made to grafp a palmer's staff,
And not to grace an awful princely fcepter.
That gold must round engirt thefe brows of mine,
Whofe fmile and frown, like to Achilles' fpear,
Is able with the change to kill and cure.
Here is a hand to hold a fcepter up,
And with the fame to act controlling laws,
Give place; by heav'n, thou fhalt rule no more
O'er him, whom heav'n created for thy ruler.
Som. O monftrous traitor! I arreft thee York,
Of capital treafon 'gainst the King and Crown;
Obey, audacious traitor, kneel for grace.


York. Sirrah, call in my fons to be my bail;

7 Wouldft have me kneel? Firft, let me afk of thefe,
If they can brook i bow a knee to man

I know, ere they will let me go to Ward,
They'll pawn their fwords for my enfranchisement.
Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford, bid him come amain,
To fay, if that the baftard boys of York

Shall be the Surety for their traitor father.
York. O blood-befpotted Neapolitan,
Out-caft of Naples, England's bloody scourge !
The fons of York, thy Betters in their Birth,
Shall be their father's bail, and bane to thofe
That for my furety will refute the boys.

Enter Edward and Richard.

See, where they come; I'll warrant, they'll make it good.

Enter Clifford.

Q. Mar. And here comes Clifford, to deny their bail,

Clif. Health and all Happiness to my Lord the


[kneels. York. I thank thee, Clifford; fay, what news with

thee ?

Nay, do not fright us with an angry look,

We are thy Sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy miftaking fo, we pardon thee.

7 Would't have me kneel? First
let me afk of thefe,
If they can brook I bow a kne

[blocks in formation]

and Eane to theft,] Confidering how our Author loves to play on Wordsfimilarin their found, but oppofite in their Signification, I make no Doubt but the Author wrote bail and bale. Bale, (from whence our common Adjective, baleful fignifies, Detriment, Ruin, Misfortune. Sc. THECBALD. Bale fignifies forrow. Either word ferve. may

Clif. This is my King, York, I do not mistake,
But thou mistak'ft me much, to think I do.
-To Bedlam with him, is the man grown mad?

K. Henry. Ay, Clifford, a Bedlam and ambitious humour

Makes him oppofe himself against his King,

Cliff. He is a traitor, let him to the Tower, And crop away that factious pate of his.

Q. Mar. He is arreited, but will not obey, His fons, he fays, fhall give their words for him. York. Will you not, fons?

E. Plan. Ay, noble father, if our words will ferve, R. Plan. And if words will not, then our weapons fhall.

Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here? York. Look in a glafs, and call thy image fo, I am thy King, and thou a falfe-heart traitor. Call hither to the ftake my two brave bears, That with the very fhaking of their chains They may aftonith thefe fell-lurking curs, Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

[blocks in formation]

Enter the Earl of Warwick and Salisbury.

Clif. Are thefe thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to


And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,

If thou dar'it bring them to the baiting place.
R. Plan. Oft have I feen a hot o'er-weening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withheld,
Who, being fuffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapt his tail between his legs and cry'd;

9 Call bither to the fake my two brave bears,

Bid Salisbury and War

wick come.] York calls thefe Lords his bears because they had a bear for their arms.


And fuch a piece of fervice will you do,

If you oppofe yourfelves to match Lord Warwick.
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigeted lump,
As crooked in thy manners, as thy fhape.

York. Nay, we fhall heat you thoroughly anon. Clif. Take heed, left by your heat you burn yourfelves.

K. Henry. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?

Old Salisbury, fhame to thy filver hair,

Thou mad mif-leader of thy brain-fick fon,
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And feek for forrow with thy fpectacles?
Oh, where is faith? oh, where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd from the frofty head,
Where fhall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourable age with blood?
Why, art thou old, and want'ft experience?
Or wherefore doft abuse it, if thou haft it?
For fhame, in duty bend thy knee to me,
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.
Sal. My Lord, I have confider'd with myself
The Title of this most renowned Duke;
And in my confcience do repute his Grace
The rightful heir to England's royal Seat.

K. Henry, Haft thou not fworn allegiance unto me?
Sal. I have.

K. Henry. Canft thou difpenfe with heav'n for fuch an oath ?

Sal. It is great fin to fwear unto a fin,
But greater fin to keep a finful oath.
Who can be bound by any folemn vow
To do a murd'rous deed, to rob a man,
To force a fpotlefs virgin's chaítity,
To 'reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her cuftom'd right,
And have no other reafon for his wrong,


But that he was bound by a folemn oath?

Q. Mar. A fubtle traitor needs no fophifter.

K. Henry. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himfelf.

York. Call Buckingham and all the friends thou haft, I am refolv'd for death or dignity.

Old Clif. The firft I warrant thee; if dreams prove


War. You had beft go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempeft of the field.
Old Clif. I am refolv'd to bear a greater ftorm
Than any thou canst conjure up to day:
And that I'll write upon thy Burgonet,


Might I but know thee by thy Houfe's badge.
War. Now by my father's Badge, old Nevill's Creft,
The rampant bear chain'd to the rugged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my Burgonet,
As on a mountain-top the cedar fhews,
That keeps his leaves in fpight of any ftorm,
Ev'n to affright thee with the view thereof.

Old Cliff. And from thy Burgonet I'll rend thy bear,
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despight the bear-ward, that protects the bear.

Y. Clif. And fo to Arms, victorious noble father, To quell the rebels and their complices.

R. Plan. Fy, charity for fhame, fpeak not in fpight, For you fhall fup with Jefu Chrift to-night.

r. Clif. Foul ftigmatick, that's more than thou canft tell.

R. Plan. If not in heav'n, you'll furely fup in hell. [Exeunt, feverally.

Burgonet is a helmet.


« ÎnapoiContinuă »