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The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth
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The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth

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The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth

Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD, attended

  BUCKINGHAM. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee.    And therefore yet relent, and save my life.    Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the King    Unto the commons whom thou hast misled;    And here pronounce free pardon to them all    That will forsake thee and go home in peace.  CLIFFORD. What say ye, countrymen? Will ye relent    And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you,    Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths?    Who loves the King, and will embrace his pardon,    Fling up his cap and say 'God save his Majesty!'    Who hateth him and honours not his father,    Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,    Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.  ALL. God save the King! God save the King!

CADE. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave?

And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? Will you needs be hang'd with your about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the White Hart in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out these arms till you had recovered your ancient freedom. But you are all recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let them break your backs with burdens, take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one; and so God's curse light upon you all!

  ALL. We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade!  CLIFFORD. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth,    That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him?    Will he conduct you through the heart of France,    And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?    Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;    Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil,    Unless by robbing of your friends and us.    Were't not a shame that whilst you live at jar    The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,    Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?    Methinks already in this civil broil    I see them lording it in London streets,    Crying 'Villiago!' unto all they meet.    Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry    Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.    To France, to France, and get what you have lost;    Spare England, for it is your native coast.    Henry hath money; you are strong and manly.    God on our side, doubt not of victory.

ALL. A Clifford! a Clifford! We'll follow the King and Clifford.

CADE. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me for here is no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have through the very middest of you! and heavens and honour be witness that no want of resolution in me, but only my followers' base and ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.

Exit

  BUCKINGHAM. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him;    And he that brings his head unto the King    Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.

Exeunt some of them

    Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean    To reconcile you all unto the King. Exeunt

SCENE IX. Killing, worth Castle

Sound trumpets. Enter KING, QUEEN, and SOMERSET, on the terrace

  KING HENRY. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne    And could command no more content than I?    No sooner was I crept out of my cradle    But I was made a king, at nine months old.    Was never subject long'd to be a King    As I do long and wish to be a subject.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD

  BUCKINGHAM. Health and glad tidings to your Majesty!  KING HENRY. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpris'd?    Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?

Enter, below, multitudes, with halters about their necks

  CLIFFORD. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield,    And humbly thus, with halters on their necks,    Expect your Highness' doom of life or death.  KING HENRY. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!    Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,    And show'd how well you love your Prince and country.    Continue still in this so good a mind,    And Henry, though he be infortunate,    Assure yourselves, will never be unkind.    And so, with thanks and pardon to you all,    I do dismiss you to your several countries.  ALL. God save the King! God save the King!

Enter a MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. Please it your Grace to be advertised    The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland    And with a puissant and a mighty power    Of gallowglasses and stout kerns    Is marching hitherward in proud array,    And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,    His arms are only to remove from thee    The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.KING HENRY. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd;    Like to a ship that, having scap'd a tempest,    Is straightway calm'd, and boarded with a pirate;    But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd,    And now is York in arms to second him.    I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him    And ask him what's the reason of these arms.    Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower-    And Somerset, we will commit thee thither    Until his army be dismiss'd from him.  SOMERSET. My lord,    I'll yield myself to prison willingly,    Or unto death, to do my country good.  KING HENRY. In any case be not too rough in terms,    For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.  BUCKINGHAM. I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal    As all things shall redound unto your good.  KING HENRY. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;    For yet may England curse my wretched reign.

Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE X. Kent. Iden's garden

Enter CADE

CADE. Fie on ambitions! Fie on myself, that have a sword and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now am I so hungry that, if I might have a lease of my life for a thousand years, I could stay no longer. Wherefore, on a brick wall have I climb'd into this garden, to see if I can eat grass or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet' was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my brain-pain had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time, when I have been dry, and bravely marching, it hath serv'd me instead of a quart-pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet' must serve me to feed on.

Enter IDEN

  IDEN. Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court    And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?    This small inheritance my father left me    Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.    I seek not to wax great by others' waning    Or gather wealth I care not with what envy;    Sufficeth that I have maintains my state,    And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.

CADE. Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave. Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the King by carrying my head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich and swallow my sword like a great pin ere thou and I part.

  IDEN. Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,    I know thee not; why then should I betray thee?    Is't not enough to break into my garden    And like a thief to come to rob my grounds,    Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,    But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

CADE. Brave thee? Ay, by the best blood that ever was broach'd, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five days, yet come thou and thy five men and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray God I may never eat grass more.

  IDEN. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,    That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,    Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.    Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine;    See if thou canst outface me with thy looks;    Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;    Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,    Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;    My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast,    And if mine arm be heaved in the air,    Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.    As for words, whose greatness answers words,    Let this my sword report what speech forbears.

CADE. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard!

Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out the burly bon'd clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou mayst be turn'd to hobnails. [Here they fight; CADE falls] O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me. Let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost, and I'd defy them all. Wither, garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

  IDEN. Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?    Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed    And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead.    Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,    But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat    To emblaze the honour that thy master got.

CADE. Iden, farewell; and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from me she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour. [Dies]

  IDEN. How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.    Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee!    And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,    So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.    Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels    Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave,    And there cut off thy most ungracious head,    Which I will bear in triumph to the King,    Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. Exit

ACT V.

SCENE I. Fields between Dartford and Blackheath

Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours

  YORK. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right    And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:    Ring bells aloud, burn bonfires clear and bright,To entertain great England's lawful king.    Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?    Let them obey that knows not how to rule;    This hand was made to handle nought but gold.    I cannot give due action to my words    Except a sword or sceptre balance it.    A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul    On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.

Enter BUCKINGHAM

    [Aside] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?    The King hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.  BUCKINGHAM. York, if thou meanest well I greet thee well.  YORK. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.    Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?  BUCKINGHAM. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,    To know the reason of these arms in peace;    Or why thou, being a subject as I am,    Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,    Should raise so great a power without his leave,    Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.  YORK. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great.    O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,    I am so angry at these abject terms;    And now, like Ajax Telamonius,    On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.    I am far better born than is the King,    More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts;    But I must make fair weather yet awhile,    Till Henry be more weak and I more strong. -    Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me    That I have given no answer all this while;    My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.    The cause why I have brought this army hither    Is to remove proud Somerset from the King,    Seditious to his Grace and to the state.  BUCKINGHAM. That is too much presumption on thy part;    But if thy arms be to no other end,    The King hath yielded unto thy demand:    The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.  YORK. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?  BUCKINGHAM. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.  YORK. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my pow'rs.    Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;    Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,    You shall have pay and everything you wish.    And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,    Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,    As pledges of my fealty and love.    I'll send them all as willing as I live:    Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have,    Is his to use, so Somerset may die.  BUCKINGHAM. York, I commend this kind submission.    We twain will go into his Highness' tent.

Enter the KING, and attendants

  KING HENRY. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,    That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?  YORK. In all submission and humility    York doth present himself unto your Highness.  KING HENRY. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?  YORK. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,    And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,    Who since I heard to be discomfited.

Enter IDEN, with CADE's head

  IDEN. If one so rude and of so mean condition    May pass into the presence of a king,    Lo, I present your Grace a traitor's head,    The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.  KING HENRY. The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!    O, let me view his visage, being dead,    That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.    Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?  IDEN. I was, an't like your Majesty.  KING HENRY. How art thou call'd? And what is thy degree?  IDEN. Alexander Iden, that's my name;    A poor esquire of Kent that loves his king.  BUCKINGHAM. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss    He were created knight for his good service.  KING HENRY. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels] Rise up a knight.    We give thee for reward a thousand marks,    And will that thou thenceforth attend on us.  IDEN. May Iden live to merit such a bounty,    And never live but true unto his liege!

Enter the QUEEN and SOMERSET

  KING HENRY. See, Buckingham! Somerset comes with th' Queen:    Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.  QUEEN. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,    But boldly stand and front him to his face.  YORK. How now! Is Somerset at liberty?    Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts    And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.    Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?    False king, why hast thou broken faith with me,    Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?    King did I call thee? No, thou art not king;    Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,    Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.    That head of thine doth not become a crown;    Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,    And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.    That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,    Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,    Is able with the change to kill and cure.    Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up,    And with the same to act controlling laws.    Give place. By heaven, thou shalt rule no more    O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.  SOMERSET. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York,    Of capital treason 'gainst the King and crown.    Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.  YORK. Wouldst have me kneel? First let me ask of these,    If they can brook I bow a knee to man.    Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail: Exit attendant    I know, ere thy will have me go to ward,    They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.  QUEEN. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain,    To say if that the bastard boys of York    Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

Exit BUCKINGHAM

  YORK. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan,    Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!    The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,    Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those    That for my surety will refuse the boys!

Enter EDWARD and RICHARD PLANTAGENET

See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good.

Enter CLIFFORD and his SON

  QUEEN. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.  CLIFFORD. Health and all happiness to my lord the King!                                                        [Kneels]  YORK. I thank thee, Clifford. Say, what news with thee?    Nay, do not fright us with an angry look.    We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;    For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.  CLIFFORD. This is my King, York, I do not mistake;    But thou mistakes me much to think I do.    To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad?  KING HENRY. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour    Makes him oppose himself against his king.  CLIFFORD. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,    And chop away that factious pate of his.  QUEEN. He is arrested, but will not obey;    His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.  YORK. Will you not, sons?  EDWARD. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.  RICHARD. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.  CLIFFORD. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!  YORK. Look in a glass, and call thy image so:    I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.    Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,    That with the very shaking of their chains    They may astonish these fell-lurking curs.    Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALISBURY

  CLIFFORD. Are these thy bears? We'll bait thy bears to death,    And manacle the berard in their chains,    If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.  RICHARD. Oft have I seen a hot o'er weening cur    Run back and bite, because he was withheld;    Who, being suffer'd, with the bear's fell paw,    Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried;    And such a piece of service will you do,    If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.  CLIFFORD. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,    As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!  YORK. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.  CLIFFORD. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.  KING HENRY. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?    Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,    Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son!    What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian    And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?    O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?    If it be banish'd from the frosty head,    Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?    Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war    And shame thine honourable age with blood?    Why art thou old, and want'st experience?    Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?    For shame! In duty bend thy knee to me,    That bows unto the grave with mickle age.  SALISBURY. My lord, I have considered with myself    The tide of this most renowned duke,    And in my conscience do repute his Grace    The rightful heir to England's royal seat.  KING HENRY. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?  SALISBURY. I have.  KING HENRY. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?  SALISBURY. It is great sin to swear unto a sin;    But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.    Who can be bound by any solemn vow    To do a murd'rous deed, to rob a man,    To force a spotless virgin's chastity,    To reave the orphan of his patrimony,    To wring the widow from her custom'd right,    And have no other reason for this wrong    But that he was bound by a solemn oath?  QUEEN. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.  KING HENRY. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.  YORK. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,    I am resolv'd for death or dignity.  CLIFFORD. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.  WARWICK. You were best to go to bed and dream again    To keep thee from the tempest of the field.  CLIFFORD. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm    Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;    And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,    Might I but know thee by thy household badge.  WARWICK. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,    The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,    This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,    As on a mountain-top the cedar shows,    That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,    Even to affright thee with the view thereof.  CLIFFORD. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear    And tread it under foot with all contempt,    Despite the berard that protects the bear.  YOUNG CLIFFORD. And so to arms, victorious father,    To quell the rebels and their complices.  RICHARD. Fie! charity, for shame! Speak not in spite,    For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.

YOUNG CLIFFORD. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.

  RICHARD. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.

Exeunt severally

SCENE II. Saint Albans

Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK

  WARWICK. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls;    And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,    Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum    And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,    Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me.    Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,  WARWICK is hoarse with calling thee to arms.

Enter YORK

    How now, my noble lord! what, all a-foot?  YORK. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed;    But match to match I have encount'red him,    And made a prey for carrion kites and crows    Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.

Enter OLD CLIFFORD

  WARWICK. Of one or both of us the time is come.  YORK. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase,    For I myself must hunt this deer to death.  WARWICK. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st.    As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,    It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. Exit  CLIFFORD. What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?  YORK. With thy brave bearing should I be in love    But that thou art so fast mine enemy.  CLIFFORD. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem    But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.  YORK. So let it help me now against thy sword,    As I in justice and true right express it!  CLIFFORD. My soul and body on the action both!  YORK. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.                                 [They fight and CLIFFORD falls]  CLIFFORD. La fin couronne les oeuvres. [Dies]  YORK. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.    Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! Exit

Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD

  YOUNG CLIFFORD. Shame and confusion! All is on the rout;    Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds    Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,    Whom angry heavens do make their minister,    Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part    Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.    He that is truly dedicate to war    Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself    Hath not essentially, but by circumstance,    The name of valour. [Sees his father's body]    O, let the vile world end    And the premised flames of the last day    Knit earth and heaven together!    Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,    Particularities and petty sounds    To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,    To lose thy youth in peace and to achieve    The silver livery of advised age,    And in thy reverence and thy chair-days thus    To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight    My heart is turn'd to stone; and while 'tis mine    It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;    No more will I their babes. Tears virginal    Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;    And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,    Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.    Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:    Meet I an infant of the house of York,    Into as many gobbets will I cut it    As wild Medea young Absyrtus did;    In cruelty will I seek out my fame.    Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house;    As did Aeneas old Anchises bear,    So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;    But then Aeneas bare a living load,    Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

Exit with the body

Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed

  RICHARD. So, lie thou there;    For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,    The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset    Hath made the wizard famous in his death.    Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:    Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. Exit

Fight. Excursions. Enter KING, QUEEN, and others

  QUEEN. Away, my lord! You are slow; for shame, away!  KING HENRY. Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay.  QUEEN. What are you made of? You'll nor fight nor fly.    Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,    To give the enemy way, and to secure us    By what we can, which can no more but fly.                                               [Alarum afar off]    If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom    Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape-    As well we may, if not through your neglect-    We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,    And where this breach now in our fortunes made    May readily be stopp'd.

Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD

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