The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 225

GLOUCESTER. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast, But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten, The king was slily finger'd from the deck!

You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace, And ten to one you'll meet him in the Tower.

KING EDWARD. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.

GLOUCESTER. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.

Nay, when? Strike now, or else the iron cools.

WARWICK. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face, Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee.

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 OXFORD, with drum and colours

WARWICK. O cheerful colours! See where Oxford comes.

OXFORD. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city]

GLOUCESTER. 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 quietly rouse the traitors in the same.

WARWICK. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.

Enter MONTAGUE, with drum and colours

MONTAGUE. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city]

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

KING EDWARD. The harder match'd, the greater victory.

My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.

Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours

SOMERSET. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city]

GLOUCESTER. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset, Have sold their lives unto the house of York; And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with drum and 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.

CLARENCE. Clarence, Clarence, for Lancaster!

KING EDWARD. Et tu Brute- wilt thou stab Caesar too?

A parley, sirrah, to George of Clarence.

[Sound a parley. RICHARD and CLARENCE whisper]

WARWICK. Come, Clarence, come. Thou wilt if Warwick call.

CLARENCE. [Taking the red rose from his hat and throwing it at WARWICK]

Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

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 Jephtha when he sacrific'd his daughter.

I am so sorry for my trespa.s.s made That, to deserve well at my brother's hands, I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe; With resolution whereso'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 brother turn my blushing cheeks.

Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends; 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 belov'd, Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.

GLOUCESTER. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.

WARWICK. O pa.s.sing traitor, perjur'd and unjust!

KING EDWARD. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave die town and fight?

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

WARWICK. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence!

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 field; Saint George and victory!

Exeunt YORKISTS [March. WARWICK and his company follow]

SCENE II.

A field of battle near Barnet

Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing forth WARWICK, wounded

KING EDWARD. So, lie thou there. Die thou, and die our fear; For Warwick was a bug that fear'd 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 overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree And kept low shrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.

These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil, Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun To search the secret treasons of the world; The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood, Were lik'ned oft to kingly sepulchres; For who liv'd King, but I could dig his grave?

And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?

Lo now my glory smear'd 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.

what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?

And live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter OXFORD and 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 breath'd 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 clamour in a vault, That mought not be distinguish'd; 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.

[Dies]

OXFORD. Away, away, to meet the Queen's great power!

[Here they bear away his body]

SCENE III.

Another part of the field

Flourish. Enter KING in triumph; with GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and the rest