ACT 1
Scene 1
Flourish of trumpets, then hautboys. Enter King Henry, Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, Salisbury, Warwick, and Cardinal Beaufort, on the one side; Queen Margaret, Suffolk, York, Somerset, and Buckingham, on the other.
...welcome my love.
kneel.
Long live Queen Margaret, England’s happiness!
...thank you all.
Flourish. All rise.
...my valiant son?
For grief that they are past recovery;
For, were there hope to conquer them again,
My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears.
Anjou and Maine? Myself did win them both!
Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer.
And are the cities that I got with wounds
Delivered up again with peaceful words?
Mort Dieu!
...of the land.
So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
And common profit of his country!
...unto the main.
Unto the main? O father, Maine is lost!
That Maine which by main force Warwick did win
And would have kept so long as breath did last!
Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine,
Which I will win from France or else be slain.
Warwick and Salisbury exit. York remains.
Scene 3
...the happy helm.
Sound a sennet. Enter King Henry, Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, Cardinal, Somerset, wearing the red rose, Buckingham, Salisbury; York and Warwick, both wearing the white rose; and the Duchess of Gloucester.
...yield to him.
Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no,
Dispute not that. York is the worthier.
...thy betters speak.
The Cardinal’s not my better in the field.
...thy betters, Warwick.
Warwick may live to be the best of all.
...famished, and lost.
That can I witness, and a fouler fact
Did never traitor in the land commit.
...Peace, headstrong Warwick!
Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?
...thee sent away.
Flourish. They exit.
ACT 2
Scene 2
...cause prevails.
Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick.
...it at full.
Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good,
The Nevilles are thy subjects to command.
...was murdered traitorously.
Father, the Duke hath told the truth.
Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.
...I am king.
What plain proceedings is more plain than this?
Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,
The fourth son; York claims it from the third.
Till Lionel’s issue fails, his should not reign.
It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee
And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.
Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together,
And in this private plot be we the first
That shall salute our rightful sovereign
With honor of his birthright to the crown.
SALISBURY, WARWICK, kneeling
Long live our sovereign Richard, England’s king!
...thank you, lords.
They rise.
...mind at full.
My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick
Shall one day make the Duke of York a king.
...but the King.
They exit.
ACT 3
Scene 1
...see my prison.
Sound a sennet. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwick, and Others to the Parliament.
...he is none.”
He exits, with Buckingham, Salisbury, Warwick, and Others. Somerset steps aside.
Scene 2
...live so long.
Enter Warwick and Salisbury, and many Commons.
It is reported, mighty sovereign,
That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murdered
By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort’s means.
The Commons, like an angry hive of bees
That want their leader, scatter up and down
And care not who they sting in his revenge.
Myself have calmed their spleenful mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.
...his sudden death.
That shall I do, my liege.—Stay, Salisbury,
With the rude multitude till I return.
Warwick exits through one door; Salisbury and Commons exit through another.
...my sorrow greater?
Bed put forth, bearing Gloucester’s body. Enter Warwick.
Come hither, gracious sovereign. View this body.
...life in death.
As surely as my soul intends to live
With that dread King that took our state upon Him
To free us from His Father’s wrathful curse,
I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famèd duke.
...for his vow?
See how the blood is settled in his face.
Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodless,
Being all descended to the laboring heart,
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance ’gainst the enemy,
Which with the heart there cools and ne’er returneth
To blush and beautify the cheek again.
But see, his face is black and full of blood;
His eyeballs further out than when he lived,
Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man;
His hair upreared, his nostrils stretched with struggling;
His hands abroad displayed, as one that grasped
And tugged for life and was by strength subdued.
Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking;
His well-proportioned beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the summer’s corn by tempest lodged.
It cannot be but he was murdered here.
The least of all these signs were probable.
...are no murderers.
But both of you were vowed Duke Humphrey’s foes,
To Cardinal.
And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep.
’Tis like you would not feast him like a friend,
And ’tis well seen he found an enemy.
...Humphrey’s timeless death.
Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh,
And sees fast by a butcher with an ax,
But will suspect ’twas he that made the slaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock’s nest
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
...Duke Humphrey’s death.
What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
...twenty thousand times.
Madam, be still—with reverence may I say—
For every word you speak in his behalf
Is slander to your royal dignity.
...Nevilles’ noble race.
But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee
And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my sovereign’s presence makes me mild,
I would, false murd’rous coward, on thy knee
Make thee beg pardon for thy passèd speech
And say it was thy mother that thou meant’st,
That thou thyself wast born in bastardy;
And after all this fearful homage done,
Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,
Pernicious bloodsucker of sleeping men!
...go with me.
Away even now, or I will drag thee hence!
Unworthy though thou art, I’ll cope with thee
And do some service to Duke Humphrey’s ghost.
Warwick and Suffolk exit.
...noise is this?
Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn.
...impart to thee.
All but the Queen and Suffolk exit.
Scene 3
...way for me.
Enter King Henry, Salisbury and Warwick, to the Cardinal in bed, raving and staring.
...seen so terrible!
Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.
...this black despair!
See how the pangs of death do make him grin!
...God forgive him!
So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
...all to meditation.
After the curtains are closed around the bed, they exit. The bed is removed.
ACT 5
Scene 1
... to me.
Enter the Earls of Warwick and Salisbury, wearing the white rose.
...dreams prove true.
You were best to go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
...thy house’s badge.
Now, by my father’s badge, old Neville’s crest,
The rampant bear chained to the ragged staff,
This day I’ll wear aloft my burgonet—
As on a mountaintop the cedar shows
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm—
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.
...sup in hell.
They exit separately.
Scene 2
Enter Warwick, wearing the white rose.
Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls!
An 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, wearing the white rose.
How now, my noble lord? What, all afoot?
...the red rose.
Of one or both of us the time is come.
...deer to death.
Then, nobly, York! ’Tis for a crown thou fight’st.—
As I intend, Clifford, to thrive today,
It grieves my soul to leave thee unassailed.
Warwick exits.
Scene 3
...my lord, away!
Alarum. Retreat. Enter York, Edward, Richard, Warwick, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose, with Drum and Colors.
...we after them?
After them? Nay, before them, if we can.
Now, by my hand, lords, ’twas a glorious day.
Saint Albans battle won by famous York
Shall be eternized in all age to come.—
Sound drum and trumpets, and to London all;
And more such days as these to us befall!
Flourish. They exit.