HENRY THE SIXTH PART 3

Act 5 Scene 2

		(Alarum and excursions. Enter King Edward bringing forth the Earl of Warwick, wounded)
l1l	King Edward	 So lie thou there. Die thou, and die our fear—
l2l		For Warwick was a bug that feared us all.
l3l		Now, Montague, sit fast—I seek for thee
l4l		That Warwick’s bones may keep thine company.
		(Exit)
l5l	Warwick	 Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe,
l6l		And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick?
l7l		Why ask I that? My mangled body shows,
l8l		My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows,
l9l		That I must yield my body to the earth
l10l		And by my fall the conquest to my foe.
l11l		Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge,
l12l		Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
l13l		Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
l14l		Whose top-branch over-peered Jove’s spreading tree
l15l		And kept low shrubs from winter’s powerful wind.
l16l		These eyes, that now are dimmed with death’s black veil,
l17l		Have been as piercing as the midday sun
l18l		To search the secret treasons of the world.
l19l		The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood,
l20l		Were likened oft to kingly sepulchres—
l21l		For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
l22l		And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?
l23l		Lo now my glory smeared in dust and blood.
l24l		My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
l25l		Even now forsake me, and of all my lands
l26l		Is nothing left me but my body’s length.
l27l		Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
l28l		And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
		(Enter the Earl of Oxford and the Duke of Somerset)
l29l	Somerset	 Ah, Warwick, Warwick—wert thou as we are,
l30l		We might recover all our loss again.
l31l		The Queen from France hath brought a puissant power.
l32l		Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!
l33l	Warwick	Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
l34l		If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
l35l		And with thy lips keep in my soul a while.
l36l		Thou lov’st me not—for, brother, if thou didst,
l37l		Thy tears would wash this cold congealèd blood
l38l		That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
l39l		Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
l40l	Somerset	Ah, Warwick—Montague hath breathed his last,
l41l		And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
l42l		And said “Commend me to my valiant brother.”
l43l		And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
l44l		Which sounded like a canon in a vault,
l45l		That mote not be distinguished# but at last
l46l		I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
l47l		“O, farewell, Warwick.”
l48l	Warwick	Sweet rest his soul. Fly, lords, and save yourselves—
l49l		For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.
		(He dies)
l50l	Oxford	 Away, away—to meet the Queen’s great power!
		( 50 Here they bear away Warwick's body. Exeunt)