Saint Alban’s. | |
| |
Alarums: Excursions. Enter WARWICK. | |
| War. Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls: | |
| And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, | 4 |
| Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm, | |
| And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air, | |
| Clifford, I say, come forth, and fight with me! | |
| Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, | 8 |
| Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. | |
| |
Enter YORK. | |
| How now, my noble lord! what! all afoot? | |
| York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed; | 12 |
| But match to match I have encounter’d him, | |
| And made a prey for carrion kites and crows | |
| Even of the bonny beast he lov’d so well. | |
| |
Enter Old CLIFFORD. | 16 |
| War. Of one or both of us the time is come. | |
| York. Hold, Warwick! seek thee out some other chase, | |
| For I myself must hunt this deer to death. | |
| War. Then, nobly, York; ’tis for a crown thou fight’st. | 20 |
| As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day, | |
| It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail’d. [Exit. | |
| Clif. What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou pause? | |
| York. With thy brave bearing should I be in love, | 24 |
| But that thou art so fast mine enemy. | |
| Clif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, | |
| But that ’tis shown ignobly and in treason. | |
| York. So let it help me now against thy sword | 28 |
| As I in justice and true right express it. | |
| Clif. My soul and body on the action both! | |
| York. A dreadful lay! address thee instantly. | |
| Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres. [They fight, and CLIFFORD falls and dies. | 32 |
| York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. | |
| Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! [Exit. | |
| |
Enter Young CLIFFORD. | |
| Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout: | 36 |
| Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds | |
| Where it should guard. O war! thou son of hell, | |
| Whom angry heavens do make their minister, | |
| Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part | 40 |
| Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly: | |
| He that is truly dedicate to war | |
| Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself | |
| Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, | 44 |
| The name of valour. [Seeing his father’s body. O! let the vile world end, | |
| And the premised flames of the last day | |
| Knit heaven and earth together; | |
| Now let the general trumpet blow his blast, | 48 |
| Particularities and petty sounds | |
| To cease!—Wast thou ordain’d, dear father, | |
| To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve | |
| The silver livery of advised age, | 52 |
| And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days thus | |
| To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight | |
| My heart is turn’d to stone: and while ’tis mine | |
| It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; | 56 |
| No more will I their babes: tears virginal | |
| Shall be to me even as the dew to fire; | |
| And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims, | |
| Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. | 60 |
| Henceforth I will not have to do with pity: | |
| Meet I an infant of the house of York, | |
| Into as many gobbets will I cut it | |
| As wild Medea young Absyrtus did: | 64 |
| In cruelty will I seek out my fame. | |
| Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford’s house: [Taking up the body. | |
| As did Æneas old Anchises bear, | |
| So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders; | 68 |
| But then Æneas bare a living load, | |
| Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. [Exit. | |
| |
Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET, fighting; SOMERSET is killed. | |
| Rich. So, lie thou there; | 72 |
| For underneath an alehouse’ paltry sign, | |
| The Castle in Saint Alban’s, Somerset | |
| Hath made the wizard famous in his death. | |
| Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still: | 76 |
| Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [Exit. | |
| |
Alarums: Excursions. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, and Others, retreating. | |
| Q. Mar. Away, my lord! you are slow: for shame, away! | |
| K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay. | 80 |
| Q. Mar. What are you made of? you’ll nor fight nor fly: | |
| Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence, | |
| To give the enemy way, and to secure us | |
| By what we can, which can no more but fly. [Alarum afar off. | 84 |
| If you be ta’en, we then should see the bottom | |
| Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape, | |
| As well we may, if not through your neglect, | |
| We shall to London get, where you are lov’d, | 88 |
| And where this breach now in our fortunes made | |
| May readily be stopp’d. | |
| |
Re-enter Young CLIFFORD. | |
| Y. Clif. But that my heart’s on future mischief set, | 92 |
| I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly; | |
| But fly you must: uncurable discomfit | |
| Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts. | |
| Away, for your relief! and we will live | 96 |
| To see their day and them our fortune give. | |
| Away, my lord, away! [Exeunt. | |
