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Rih. About that which concerns your Grace
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 th’ house of Lancaster leave to breathe, It will out-run 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 for
fworn. York. I shall be, if I claim by open war. Rich. I'll prove the contrary if you'll hear me
speak. York. Thou canst not, fon; it is impossible.
Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took: Before a true and lawful magistrate, That hath authority o'er him that swears. Henry had none, but did ufurp the place. Then seeing it was he that made you to depose, Your oath, my Lord, is vain and frivolous ; Therefore to arms. And, father, do but think How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; Within wbose circuit is Flysium, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. Why do we. linger thus? I cannot reft, Until the white rose that I wear be dy'd Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
York. Richard, enough. I will be king, or die.. Brother, thou shalt to London presenıly, And whet on Warwick to this enterprize. Thou, Richard, Salt to th' Duke of Norcolk go, And tell him privily of our intent. You, Edward, mall unto my Lord Cobham, With whom the Kentifhmen will willingly rise. In them I trust: for they are soldiers, Wealthy and courteous, liberal, full of spirit. While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more But that I seek occasion how to rise, And yet the King not privy to my drift, Nor any of the houle of Lancaster ?
Enter Meßenger. But stay, what news? why com'st thou in such post?
Gab. The Queen, with all the northern earls and
that we fear them?
Mont. Brother, I'll go ; I'll win them, fear it not. And thus most humbly I do take my leave.
[Exit Mont. Enter Sir John Mortimer 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 means to beliege us. Sir John. She shall not need; we'll ineet 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 Tet our men in orAnd issue forth and bid them battle strait. [der,
York. Five men to twenty! Though the odds be I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. [great, Many a battle have I won in France, When as the enemy hath been ten to one ; Why should I not now have the like success ?
SCE N E V. Å Field of Battle betwixt Sandal Cafile and
-Enter Rutland and his Tutor. Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? Ah, tutor, lobk where bloody Clifford comes.
Enter Clifford and Soldiers Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood fave's thy As for the brat of this accursed Duke, Whofe father New my father, he shall die.
Tutor. And I, my Lord, will bear him company. *Clif. Soldiers, away, and drag him hence perforce.
Tutor. Ah! Clifford, murder not 'this innocent Left thou be hated both of God and man. [child,
[Exit, dragg'd aff Clif. How now! is he dead already? or, is't fear That makes him close his eyes ? I'll open them.
Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws; And so he walks insulting o'er his prey, And so he comes to rend his limbs alunder. Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threarning look. "Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die; I am too mean a subject of thy wrath, Be thou rever.g'd on men, and let me live. Clif: In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's
blood "Hath stopt the passage where thy words should enter.
*Rut. Then let my father's blood open't again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives and Were not revenge fufficient for me. [thine No, if I diggd up thy forefathers' graves, And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, It could not slake mine ire, nor ease'my lieart. The light of any of the house of York Is as a fury to iorment my soul,
And till I root out their accursed line,
(Lifting his hand. Rut. O 'et me.pray before I take my death. -To thee I pray Sweet Clifford, pity me.
Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
Rut. But 'twas ere I was born.
*Clif: 'No cause!
[Clif. Stabs hini.
S CE N E Alarn. Enter Richard Duke of York. Yerk. The army of the Queen hath got the field; My uncles both are fain in rescuing me, And all niy followers to the eager'foe Tern back, and fly like thips before the wind, Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves. My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them, But this I kirow, they have deinean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me, 'And thrice cry'd, Courage, father ! fight it out : And full as oft came Edward to my side, With purple falchion painted to the biit In blood of those that had encounter'd hiin :
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
[A mort alarm withim.
Prince of Wales, and Soldiers.
North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
Clif. Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm,
York. My alhes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
York. Oh Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word, But buckle with thee blows twice two for one.