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- $Unique_ID{SSP00360}
- $Title{King Henry VI, Part III: Act II, Scene VI}
- $Author{Shakespeare, William}
- $Subject{}
- $Log{Dramatis Personae*00350.txt}
-
- Portions copyright (c) CMC ReSearch, Inc., 1989
-
- The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
-
- KING HENRY VI, PART III
-
-
- ACT II
- ................................................................................
-
-
- SCENE VI: Another part of the field.
- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-
- {A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded.}
-
- CLIFFORD: Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies,
- Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light.
- O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow
- More than my body's parting with my soul!
- My love and fear glued many friends to thee;
- And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts.
- Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York,
- The common people swarm like summer flies;
- And whither fly the gnats but to the sun?
- And who shines now but Henry's enemies? 10
- O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent
- That Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds,
- Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!
- And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
- Or as thy father and his father did,
- Giving no ground unto the house of York,
- They never then had sprung like summer flies;
- I and ten thousand in this luckless realm
- Had left no mourning widows for our death;
- And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.
- For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? 20
- And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
- Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
- No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:
- The foe is merciless, and will not pity;
- For at their hands I have deserved no pity.
- The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
- And much effuse of blood doth make me faint.
- Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest;
- I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.
-
- [He faints.]
-
- {Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD,
- MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers.}
-
- EDWARD: Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, 30
- And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
- Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen,
- That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
- As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
- Command an argosy to stem the waves.
- But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
-
- WARWICK: No, 'tis impossible he should escape,
- For, though before his face I speak the words
- Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave:
- And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. 40
-
- [CLIFFORD groans, and dies.]
-
- EDWARD: Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?
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- RICHARD: A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.
-
- EDWARD: See who it is: and, now the battle's ended,
- If friend or foe, let him be gently used.
-
- RICHARD: Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
- Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
- In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
- But set his murdering knife unto the root
- From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,
- I mean our princely father, Duke of York. 50
-
- WARWICK: From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
- Your father's head, which Clifford placed there;
- Instead whereof let this supply the room:
- Measure for measure must be answered.
-
- EDWARD: Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
- That nothing sung but death to us and ours:
- Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
- And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.
-
- WARWICK: I think his understanding is bereft.
- Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? 60
- 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.
-
- 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. 70
-
- GEORGE: While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
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- RICHARD: Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
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- EDWARD: Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee.
-
- GEORGE: Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?
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- 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 hour's life,
- That I in all despite might rail at him, 80
- This hand should chop it off, and with the
- issuing blood
- Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
- York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
-
- 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; 90
- 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 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 100
- Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
- Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester,
- And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself,
- Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best.
-
- RICHARD: Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester;
- For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.
-
- WARWICK: Tut, that's a foolish observation:
- Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London,
- To see these honors in possession.
-
- [Exeunt.]