This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood

Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head,

And rear it in the place your father's stands.
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king.
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to
France

And ask the lady Bona for thy queen:

So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread

The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again;
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears.

First, will I see the coronation;
And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea,
To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.

Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be:

For in thy shoulder do I build my seat;
And never will I undertake the thing
Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster;
And George, of Clarence; Warwick, as ourself,
Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.

Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George,

THE events which followed the death of the Duke of York are thus described by Hall :-"The Earl of March, so commonly called, but after the death of his father in deed and in right very Duke of York, lying at Gloucester, hearing of the death of his noble father, and loving brother, and trusty friends, was wonderfully amazed; but after comfort given to him by his faithful lovers and assured allies, he removed to Shrewsbury and other towns upon the river of Severn, declaring to them the murder of his father, the jeopardy of himself, and the unstable state and ruin of the realm. The people on the Marches of Wales, which above measure favoured the lineage of the lord Mortimer, more gladly offered him their aid and assistance than he it either instantly required or heartily desired, so that he had a puissant army, to the number of twenty-three thousand, ready to go against the queen and the murderers of his father. But when he was setting forward news were brought to him that Jasper Earl of Pembroke, half brother to King Henry, and James Butler Earl of Ormond and Wiltshire, had assembled together a great number, both of Welsh and Irish people, suddenly to surprise and take him and his friends, and as a captive to convey him to the queen. The Duke of York, called Earl of March, somewhat spurred and quickened with these novelties, retired back, and met with his enemies in a fair plain near to Mortimer's Cross, not far from Hereford east, on Candlemas-day in the morning, at which time the sun (as some write) appeared to the Earl of March like three suns, and suddenly joined altogether in

one, and that upon the sight thereof he took such courage that he fiercely set on his enemies, and them shortly discomfited: for which cause men imagined that he gave the sun in his full brightness for his cognizance or badge."

The poet passes over the battle of Mortimer's Cross, but gives us the incident of the three suds. He also, not crowding the scene with an undramatic succession of events nearly similar, omits all mention of the second battle of St. Alban's, in which the queen was victorious. This battle was fruitless to the cause of Lancaster, for Edward was almost immediately after recog nised as king by the parliament assembled in London. The poet postpones this event, and, after the imaginary interview of the second scene, brings us to the great battle of Towton, which is thus described by Hall:-"This battle was sore fought, for hope of life was set on side on every part, and taking of prisoners was proclaimed as a great offence; by reason whereof every man determined either to conquer or to die in the field. This deadly battle and bloody conflict continued ten hours in doubtful victory, the one part some time flowing and sometime ebbing; but, in conclusion, King Edward so courageously comforted his men, refreshing the weary and helping the wounded, that the other part was discomforted and overcome, and, like men amazed, fled toward Tadcaster bridge to save themselves. **** This conflict was in manner unnatural, for in it the son fought against the father, the brother against the brother, the nephew against the uncle, and the tenant against his lord.”

SCENE I-A Chase in the North of England. Enter Two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands.

1 Keep. Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves;

For through this launda anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, Culling the principal of all the deer.

2 Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.

1 Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow

Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best:
And, for the time shall not seem tedious,

a Laund (the same as lawn) is, according to Camden, a plain among trees."

1 Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee:

This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. K. Hen. Let me embrace these sour adversities: a

For wise men say it is the wisest course.

2 Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.

1 Keep. Forbear a while; we'll hear a little

more.

K. Hen. My queen and son are gone to France for aid;

And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick

Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister
To wife for Edward: If this news be true,
Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost;
For Warwick is a subtle orator,

And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.

By this account, then, Margaret may win him;
For she's a woman to be pitied much:
Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tiger will be mild while she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,
To hear, and see, her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but she's come to beg; Warwick, to give:
She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry;
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps, and says-her Henry is depos'd;
He smiles, and says-his Edward is install'd;
That she poor wretch for grief can speak no

more:

Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the

wrong,

Inferreth arguments of mighty strength ;
And, in conclusion, wins the king from her,
With promise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support king Edward's place.
O Margaret, thus 't will be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn.

2 Keep. Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens?

K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was born to:

A man at least, for less I should not be;
And men may talk of kings, and why not I?

2 Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.

K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's

enough.

2 Keep. But if thou be a king, where is thy crown ?

a Pope's reading. The folio has "the sower adversaries,"

K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head;

Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd content;
A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

2 Keep. Weil, if you be a king crown'd with content,

Your crown content and you must be contented

To go along with us: for, as we think,
You are the king king Edward hath depos'd;
And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
Will apprehend you as his enemy.

K. Hen. But did you never swear and break an oath ?

2 Keep. No, never such an oath; nor wil not now.

K. Hen. Where did you dwell when I was king of England?

2 Keep. Here in this country where we now remain.

K. Hen. I was anointed king at nine months old;

My father, and my grandfather, were kings; And you were sworn true subjects unto me: And, tell me then, have you not broke your oaths ?

1 Keep. No;

For we were subjects but while you were king. K. Hen. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe

a man?

Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear.
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Commanded always by the greater gust;
Such is the lightness of you common men.
But do not break your oaths; for, of that sin
My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
And be you kings; command, and I'll obey.
1 Keep. We are true subjects to the king,
king Edward.

K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry, If he were seated as king Edward is.

1 Keep. We charge you, in God's name, and in the king's,

To go with us unto the officers.

K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's

name be obey'd:

And what God will that let your king perform; And what he will I humbly yield unto. [Exeunt.

a That-So the original; but by some continued error al. the early modern editions had" then let your king perform."

Enter KING EDWard, Gloster, CLARENCE, and

Lady GREY.

K. Edic. Brother of Gloster, at Saint Alban's field

This lady's husband, sir John Grey, was slain,
His lands then seiz'd on by the conqueror:
Her suit is now, to repossess those lands;
Which we in justice cannot well deny,
Because in quarrel of the house of York
The worthy gentleman did lose his life.

Glo. Your highness shall do well to grant her suit;

It were dishonour to deny it her.

K. Edw. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.

K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit; And come some other time, to know our mind. L. Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay:

May it please your highness to resolve me now; And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me.

Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all your lands,

An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.

Clar. I fear her not unless she chance to fall. [Aside. Glo. God forbid that! for he'll take vantages. [Aside.

K. Edw. How many children hast thou, widow? tell me.

Clar. I think, he means to beg a child of her. [Aside.

Glo. Nay, whip me then; he'll rather give her two.

[Aside.

L. Grey. Three, my most gracious lord. Glo. You shall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him. [Aside.

K. Edw. "T were pity they should lose their father's lands.

L. Grey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.

K. Edw. Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit.

Glo. Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave

L. Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. K. Edw. And would you not do much to do them good?

L. Grey. To do them good I would sustain some harm.

K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.

L. Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty. K. Edw. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.

L. Grey. So shall you bind me to your highness' service.

K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?

L. Grey. What you command that rests in me to do.

K. Edw. But you will take exceptions to my

boon.

L. Grey. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.

K. Edw. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.

L. Grey. Why, then I will do what your grace commands.

Glo. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble. [Aside.

Clar. As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt. [Aside.

L. Grey. Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my task?

K. Edw. An easy task; 't is but to love a king. L. Grey. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.

K. Edw. Why then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.

L. Grey. I take my leave with many thousand thanks.

Glo. The match is made; she seals it with a curt'sy.

K. Edw. But stay thee, 't is the fruits of love I mean.

L. Grey. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.

K. Edw. Ay, but I fear me, in another sense. What love think'st thou I sue so much to get? L. Grey. My love till death, my humble

thanks, my prayers; That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.