War. Why should you sigh, my lord? K. Hen. Not for myself, lord Warwick, but my son, Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. But be it as it may:-I here entail The crown to thee, and to thine heirs forever; [Exeunt YORK, and his Sons, WARWICK, K. Hen. And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. Enter QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE of Wales. Exe. Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger. I'll steal away. K. Hen. Exeter, so will I. [Going. Q. Mar. Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. K. Hen. Be patient,, gentle queen, and I will stay. Q. Mar. Who can be patient in such extremes? Ah, wretched man! 'would I had died a maid, And never seen thee, never borne thee son, Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father! Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, Or felt that pain which I did for him once; Or nourished him, as I did with my blood; Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir, And disinherited thine only son. Prince. Father, you cannot disinherit me. If you be king, why should not I succeed? K. Hen. Pardon me, Margaret;-pardon me, sweet son; The earl of Warwick, and the duke, enforced me. Q. Mar. Enforced thee! Art thou king, and wilt be forced? The northern lords, that have forsworn thy colors, K. Hen. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. gone. K. Hen. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? Q. Mar. Ay, to be murdered by his enemies. Prince. When I return with victory from the field, I'll see your grace; till then, I'll follow her. Q. Mar. Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. [Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and the Prince. K. Hen. Poor queen! how love to me, and to her son, Hath made her break out into terms of rage! Revenged may she be on that hateful duke; Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, Will coast my crown, and, like an empty eagle, Tire on the flesh of me, and of my son ! The loss of those three lords torments my heart; I'll write unto them, and entreat them fair.— Exe. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Sandal Castle, near Wakefield in Yorkshire. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE. Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. Mont. But I have reasons strong and forcible. Enter YORK. York. Why, how now, sons and brother, at a strife? Rich. About that which concerns your grace and us; The crown of England, father, which is yours. York. Mine, boy? not till king Henry be dead. Rich. Your right depends not on his life, or death. Edw. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now. By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, It will outrun you, father, in the end. York. I took an oath that he should quietly reign. Edw. But, for a kingdom, any oath may be broken; I'd break a thousand oaths to reign one year. Rich. No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. York. I shall be, if I claim by open war. Rich. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. That hath authority over him that swears. And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.— Brother, thou shalt to London presently, You, Edward, shall unto my lord Cobham, While you are thus employed, what resteth more, And yet the king not privy to my drift, Nor any of the house of Lancaster? Enter a Messenger. But, stay-what news? Why com'st thou in such post? She is hard by with twenty thousand men; York. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; [Exit. Enter SIR JOHN and SIR HUGH MORTIMER. York. Sir John, and sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles! You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; The army of the queen mean to besiege us. Sir. John. She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. York. What, with five thousand men? Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. A woman's general; what should we fear? [A march afar off. Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men in order; And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. York. Five men to twenty!-though the odds be great, I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. Many a battle have I won in France, When as the enemy hath been ten to one; [Alarum. Exeunt. SCENE III. Plains near Sandal Castle. Alarums: Excursions. Enter RUTLAND, and his Tutor. Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes! Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers. Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. As for the brat of this accursed duke, Whose father slew my father, he shall die. Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company. Tut. Ah, Clifford! murder not this innocent child, [Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear That makes him close his eyes?-I'll open them. Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood Hath stopped the passage where thy words should enter. Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge sufficient for me. No, if I digged up thy forefathers' graves, And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. Is as a fury to torment my soul; [Lifting his hand. |