Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did!- Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharg'd with grief. Enter a Father who has killed his Son, with the Body Fath. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise, What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, K. Hen. Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds!-- The red rose and the white are on his face, Fath. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied? K. Hen. How will the country, for these woful chances, Mis-think the king, and not be satisfied? Son. Was ever son, so ru'd a father's death? Fath. Was ever father, so bemoan'd a son? K. Hen. Was ever king, so griev'd for subjects' woe? I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, [Exit, with the Body. K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, Here sits a king more woful than you are. Alarums: Excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE OF WALES, and EXETER. Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. [amain: Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord, towards Berwick post Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds, Having the fearful flying hare in sight, With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath, And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with them: Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; Or else come after, I'll away before. K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter ; Not that I fear to stay, but love to go Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! [Exeunt. SCENE 6. KING HENRY VI. SCENE VI. The same. A loud Alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded. More than my body's parting with my soul. Giving no ground unto the house of York, [He faints. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, pause, And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.— Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen ;- But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? [Clifford groans and dies. Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford ; Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, But set his murdering knife unto the root From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, 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: Instead whereof, let this supply the room; Measure for measure must be answered. Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, That nothing sung but death to us and ours: Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. [Attendants bring the Body forward. War. I think his understanding is bereft:Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say. Rich. O'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; "Tis but his policy to counterfeit, Because he would avoid such bitter taunts, Geo. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. wont. Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath:I know by that, he's dead; And, by my soul, If this right hand would buy two hours' life, That in all despite might rail at him, This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst York and young Rutland could not satisfy. War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head, So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, And then to Britany I'll cross the sea, To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be: For on thy shoulder do I build my seat; And never will I undertake the thing, Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.- And George, of Clarence;-Warwick, as ourself, Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best. Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George, of For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous. [Gloster; War. Tut, that's a foolish observation; Richard, be duke of Gloster: Now to London, To see these honours in possession. [Exeunt. |