William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (70 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

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BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition

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KING EDWARD

Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend,
This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair,
Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off,
Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood:
‘Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more’.

Enter the Earl of Oxford, with a drummer and
⌈
soldiers bearing
⌉
colours

WARWICK

O cheerful colours! See where Oxford comes.

OXFORD

Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

⌈
Oxford and his men pass over the stage and exeunt into the city
⌉

RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER (
to King Edward
)

The gates are open—let us enter too.

KING EDWARD

So other foes may set upon our backs?
Stand we in good array, for they no doubt
Will issue out again and bid us battle.
If not, the city being but of small defence,
We’ll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.

WARWICK ⌈
to Oxford, within
⌉

O, welcome, Oxford—for we want thy help.

Enter the Marquis of Montague with a drummer and
⌈
soldiers bearing
⌉
colours

MONTAGUE

Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

⌈
Montague and his men pass over the stage and exeunt into the city
⌉

RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER

Thou and thy brother both shall bye this treason
Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.

KING EDWARD

The harder matched, the greater victory.
My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.

Enter the Duke of Somerset with a drummer and
⌈
soldiers bearing
⌉
colours

SOMERSET

Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

⌈
Somerset and his men pass over the stage and exeunt into the city
⌉

RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER

Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset,
Have sold their lives unto the house of York—
And thou shalt be the third, an this sword hold.

Enter George Duke of Clarence with a drummer and
⌈
soldiers bearing
⌉
colours

WARWICK

And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,
Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
With whom an upright zeal to right prevails
More than the nature of a brother’s love.

GEORGE OF CLARENCE

Clarence, Clarence, for Lancaster!

KING EDWARD

Et tu, Brute
—wilt thou stab Caesar too?
(
To a trumpeter
) A parley, sirra, to George of Clarence.
Sound a parley. Richard of Gloucester and George of
Clarence whisper together

WARWICK

Come, Clarence, come—thou wilt if Warwick call.

GEORGE OF CLARENCE

Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

⌈
He takes his red rose out of his hat and throws it at Warwick
⌉

Look—here I throw my infamy at thee!
I will not ruinate my father’s house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war
Against his brother and his lawful king?
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath.
To keep that oath were more impiety
Than Jephthah, when he sacrificed his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made
That, to deserve well at my brothers’ hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,
With resolution, wheresoe’er I meet thee—
As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad—
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brothers turn my blushing cheeks.
(To King Edward)
Pardon me, Edward—I will make amends.
(To Richard)
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.

KING EDWARD

Now welcome more, and ten times more beloved,
Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.

RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER (
to George)

Welcome, good Clarence—this is brother-like.

WARWICK (
to George
)

O, passing traitor—perjured and unjust!

KING EDWARD

What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

WARWICK ⌈
aside
⌉

Alas, I am not cooped here for defence
.
(
To King Edward
)
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar’st.

KING EDWARD

Yes, Warwick—Edward dares, and leads the way.
Lords, to the Held—Saint George and victory!

Exeunt below King Edward and his company.
March. The Earl of Warwick and his company
descend and follow

5.2
Alarum and excursions. Enter King Edward bringing forth the Earl of Warwick, wounded

KING EDWARD

So lie thou there. Die thou, and die our fear—
For Warwick was a bug that feared us all.
Now, Montague, sit fast—I seek for thee
That Warwick’s bones may keep thine company. Exit

WARWICK

Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe,
And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick?
Why ask I that? My mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows,
That I must yield my body to the earth
And by my fall the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
Whose top-branch over-peered Jove’s spreading tree
And kept low shrubs from winter’s powerful wind.
These eyes, that now are dimmed with death’s black
veil,
Have been as piercing as the midday sun
To search the secret treasons of the world.
The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood,
Were likened oft to kingly sepulchres—
For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?
Lo now my glory smeared in dust and blood.
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me, and of all my lands
Is nothing left me but my body’s length,
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
Enter the Earl of Oxford and the Duke of Somerset

SOMERSET

Ah, Warwick, Warwick—wert thou as we are,
We might recover all our loss again.
The Queen from France hath brought a puissant
power.
Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!

WARWICK

Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul a while.
Thou lov’st me not—for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

SOMERSET

Ah, Warwick—Montague hath breathed his last,
And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
And said ‘Commend me to my valiant brother.’
And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a canon in a vault,
That mote not be distinguished; but at last
I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
‘O, farewell, Warwick.’

WARWICK

Sweet rest his soul. Fly, lords, and save yourselves—
For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.

He dies

OXFORD

Away, away—to meet the Queen’s great power!

Here they bear away Warwick’s body. Exeunt

5.3
Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Richard Duke of Gloucester, George Duke of Clarence, and
⌈
soldiers
⌉

KING EDWARD

Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
And we are graced with wreaths of victory.
But in the midst of this bright-shining day
I spy a black suspicious threatening cloud
That will encounter with our glorious sun
Ere he attain his easeful western bed.
I mean, my lords, those powers that the Queen
Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

GEORGE OF CLARENCE

A little gale will soon disperse that cloud,
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up,
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER

The Queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her.
If she have time to breathe, be well assured,
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

KING EDWARD

We are advertised by our loving friends
That they do hold their course toward Tewkesbury.
We, having now the best at Barnet field,
Will thither straight, for willingness rids way—
And, as we march, our strength will be augmented
In every county as we go along.
Strike up the drum, cry ‘Courage!’; and away.

⌈
Flourish. March
⌉
Exeunt

5.4
Flourish. March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Oxford, and soldiers

QUEEN MARGARET

Great lords, wise men ne‘er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown overboard,
The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallowed in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still. Is’t meet that he
Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea,
And give more strength to that which hath too much,
Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock
Which industry and courage might have saved?
Ah, what a shame; ah, what a fault were this.
Say Warwick was our anchor—what of that?
And Montague our top-mast—what of him?
Our slaughtered friends the tackles—what of these?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
And Somerset another goodly mast?
The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allowed the skilful pilot’s charge?
We will not from the helm to sit and weep,
But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
And what is Edward but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor barque.
Say you can swim—alas, ’tis but a while;
Tread on the sand—why, there you quickly sink;
Bestride the rock—the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish. That’s a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
If case some one of you would fly from us,
That there’s no hoped-for mercy with the brothers York
More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.
Why, courage then—what cannot be avoided
’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

PRINCE EDWARD

Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this as doubting any here—
For did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes,
Lest in our need he might infect another
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here—as God forbid—
Let him depart before we need his help.

OXFORD

Women and children of so high a courage,
And warriors faint—why, ’twere perpetual shame!
O brave young Prince, thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee! Long mayst thou live
To bear his image and renew his glories I

SOMERSET

And he that will not fight for such a hope,
Go home to bed, and like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mocked and wondered at.

QUEEN MARGARET

Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet Oxford, thanks.

PRINCE EDWARD

And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.