Have caus'd him, by new act of parliament, Who should succeed the father, but the son? Rich. Are you there, butcher?-O, I cannot speak! Clif. Ay, crookback; here I stand to answer thee, Or any he the proudest of thy sort. Rich. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? Clif. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. Rich. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. War. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? Q. Mar. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick? dare you speak? When you and I met at St. Albans last, Clif. You said so 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. [ly ;Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reverentBreak off the parle; for scarce I can refrain The execution of my big-swoln heart Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. Clif. I slew thy father: Call'st thou him a child? Rich. Ay, like a dastard, and a treacherous coward, As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland ; But, ere sunset, I'll make thee curse the deed. K. Hen. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. Q. Mar. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. K. Hen. I pr'ythee, give no limits to my tongue; I am a king, and privileg'd to speak. Clif. My liege, the wound, that bred this meeting here, Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still. Rich. Then, executioner, unsheath thy sword: By him that made us all, I am resolv'd, That Clifford's manhood lies 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; [dam; For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? crowns, To make this shameless callet know herself- stoop; And, had he match'd according to his state, That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, pride? Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; And we, in pity of the gentle king, Had slipp'd our claim until another age. Geo. But, when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, And that thy summer bred us no increase, And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, 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 defy thee; Not willing any longer conference, Since thou deny'st the gentle king to speak.Sound trumpets !-let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave. [stay; Edw. No, wrangling woman; we'll no longer These words will cost ten thousand lives to-day. SCENE III. [Exeunt. A Field of Battle between Towton and Saxton, in Yorkshire. Alarums: Excursions. Enter WARWICK. War. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, I lay me down a little while to breathe: And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile. Edw. Smile, gentle heaven! 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 GEORGE. Geo. Our hap is loss, our hope but sad 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. Enter RICHARD. Rich. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, War. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? Edw. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; And, in this vow, do chain my soul to thine.- Rich. Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:- Geo. Yet let us all together to our troops, And give them leave to fly that will not stay; Fore-slow no longer, make we hence amain." [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. Another Part of the Field. Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD. Rich. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: Suppose, this arm is for the duke of York, And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: This is the hand, that stabb'd thy father York; And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; And here's the heart that triumphs in their death, And cheers these hands, that slew thy sire and brother, To execute the like upon thyself; [They fight. WARWICK enters; CLIFFORD flies. Rich. Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase; For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Another Part of the Field. Alarum. Enter KING HENRY. K. Hen. This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light; Sometime, the flood prevails; and then the wind; |