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; Conditionally, that here thou take an oath, To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, To honor me as thy king and sovereign; And neither by treason nor hostility, To seek to put me down, and reign thyself. York. This oath I willingly take, and will perform. [Coming from the throne. War. Long live king Henry !- Plantagenet, embrace him. K. Hen. And long live thou, and these thy forward sons ! York. Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. Ere. Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes ! [Senet. The Lords come forward. York. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. War. And I'll keep London, with my soldiers. Norf. And I to Norfolk, with.my followers. Mont. And I unto the sea, from whence I came. [Exeunt York, and his Sons, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, Soldiers, and Attendants. 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 ? Prince. Father, you cannot disinherit me. 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? 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, [Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and the Prince. 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. and us; Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE. Enter YORK. Edw. No quarrel, but a slight contention. Rich. About that which concerns your grace 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; Rich. No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.— Brother, thou shalt to London presently, Enter a Messenger. Mess. The queen, with all the northern earls and lords, we fear them ?- Mont. Brother, I go; l'll win them, fear it not. 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. 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. The sight of any of the house of York Is as a fury to torment my soul; And till I root out their accursed line, And leave not one alive, I live in hell. Therefore [Lifting his hand. |