RICHARD.Northumberland,I hold thee reverently.Break off the parley;for scarce I can refrain The execution of my big-swol'n heart Upon that Clifford,that cruel child-killer.CLIFFORD.I slew thy father;call'st thou him a child?RICHARD.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.KING HENRY.Have done with words,my lords,and hear me speak.QUEEN MARGARET.Defy them then,or else hold close thy lips.KING HENRY.I prithee give no limits to my tongue:I am a king,and privileg'd to speak.CLIFFORD.My liege,the wound that bred this meeting here Cannot be cur'd by words;therefore be still.RICHARD.Then,executioner,unsheathe thy sword.By Him that made us all,I am resolv'd That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.EDWARD.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.WARWICK.If thou deny,their blood upon thy head;For York in justice puts his armour on.PRINCE OF WALES.If that be right which Warwick says is right,There is no wrong,but every thing is right.RICHARD.Whoever got thee,there thy mother stands;For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.QUEEN MARGARET.But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam;But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,As venom toads or lizards'dreadful stings.RICHARD.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?EDWARD.A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns To make this shameless callet know herself.Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,Although thy husband may be Menelaus;And ne'er was Agamemmon'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 sire with his bridal day,Even then that sunshine 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 slept;And we,in pity of the gentle King,Had slipp'd our claim until another age.GEORGE.But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,And that thy summer bred us no increase,We set the axe to thy usurping root;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.EDWARD.And in this resolution I defy thee;Not willing any longer conference,Since thou deniest the gentle King to speak.Sound trumpets;let our bloody colours wave,And either victory or else a grave!QUEEN MARGARET.Stay,Edward.EDWARD.No,wrangling woman,we'll no longer stay;These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.Exeunt
SCENE III.A field of battle between Towton and Saxton,in Yorkshire
Alarum;excursions.Enter WARWICK
WARWICK.Forspent 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 sinews of their strength,And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile.
Enter EDWARD,running
EDWARD.Smile,gentle heaven,or strike,ungentle death;For this world frowns,and Edward's sun is clouded.WARWICK.How now,my lord.What hap?What hope of good?
Enter GEORGE
GEORGE.Our hap is lost,our hope but sad despair;Our ranks are broke,and ruin follows us.What counsel give you?Whither shall we fly?EDWARD.Bootless is flight:they follow us with wings;And weak we are,and cannot shun pursuit.
Enter RICHARD
RICHARD.Ah,Warwick,why hast thou withdrawn thyself?Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;And in the very pangs of death he cried,Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,'Warwick,revenge!Brother,revenge my death.'So,underneath the belly of their steeds,That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.WARWICK.Then let the earth be drunken with our blood.I'll kill my horse,because I will not fly.Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,Wailing our losses,whiles the foe doth rage,And look upon,as if the tragedy Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?Here on my knee I vow to God above I'll never pause again,never stand still,Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine Or fortune given me measure of revenge.EDWARD.O Warwick,I do bend my knee with thine,And in this vow do chain my soul to thine!And ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face I throw my hands,mine eyes,my heart to Thee,Thou setter-up and plucker-down of kings,
Beseeching Thee,if with Thy will it stands That to my foes this body must be prey,Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope And give sweet passage to my sinful soul.Now,lords,take leave until we meet again,Where'er it be,in heaven or in earth.RICHARD.Brother,give me thy hand;and,gentle Warwick,Let me embrace thee in my weary arms.I that did never weep now melt with woe That winter should cut off our spring-time so.WARWICK.Away,away!Once more,sweet lords,farewell.GEORGE.Yet let us all together to our troops,And give them leave to fly that will not stay,And call them pillars that will stand to us;And if we thrive,promise them such rewards As victors wear at the Olympian games.This may plant courage in their quailing breasts,For yet is hope of life and victory.Forslow no longer;make we hence amain.Exeunt
