Warwick. I think his understanding is bereft.Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?— Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,

And he nor sees, nor hears us, what we say.

Richard. O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,

Because he would avoid such bitter taunts

Which in the time of death he gave our father.

60

70

George. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
Richard. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace.
Edward. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
Warwick. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
George. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
Richard. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
Edward. Thou pitiedst Rutland, I will pity thee.
George. Where's Captain Margaret to fence you now?
Warwick. They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast

wont.

Richard. What! not an oath? nay then, the world goes hard,

When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.

I know by that he 's dead; and, by my soul,

If this right hand would buy two hours' life,

That I in all despite might rail at him,

This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst

York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

80

Warwick. 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

90

The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again;

For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buzz 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.

Edward. 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.

100

Richard. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloster, For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.

Warwick. Tut! that's a foolish observation;

SCENE I.

ACT III.

A Forest in the North of England.

Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands.

1 Keeper. Under this thick-grown brake we 'll shroud our

selves;

For through this laund anon the deer will come,

And in this covert will we make our stand,
Culling the principal of all the deer.

2 Keeper. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
1 Keeper. 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,
I'll tell thee what befell me on a day

In this self place where now we mean to stand.

2 Keeper. Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.

Enter KING HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book. King Henry. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love,

To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.

No, Harry, Harry, 't is no land of thine;

Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,

Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed.
No bending knee will call thee Cæsar now,
No humble suitors press to speak for right;
No, not a man comes for redress of thee,
For how can I help them, and not myself?

1 Keeper. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee. This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him.

King Henry. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity;

For wise men say it is the wisest course.

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

1 Keeper. Forbear awhile; we 'll hear a little more.

20

King Henry. 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,

30

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 whiles 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 Keeper. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings and queens?

King Henry. More than I seem, and less than I was born

to:

A man at least, for less I could not be;

And men may talk of kings, and why not I?

2 Keeper. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. King Henry. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. 2 Keeper. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? King Henry. 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 Keeper. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content,

61