ACT 1
Scene 1
Alarum. Enter Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York; Edward; Richard; Norfolk; Montague; Warwick; and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
...common soldiers slain.
Lord Stafford’s father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either slain or wounded dangerous.
I cleft his beaver with a downright blow.
That this is true, father, behold his blood.
He shows his bloody sword.
...me this night.
They go up onto a dais or platform.
...the usurper’s head.
Sweet father, do so. Set it on your head.
...make them foes.
Sennet. Here they come down.
...whence I came.
York, Edward, Richard, Warwick, Norfolk, Montague, and their Soldiers exit.
Scene 2
...reconcile them all.
Enter Richard, Edward, and Montague, all wearing the white rose.
...give me leave.
No, I can better play the orator.
...began it first?
No quarrel, but a slight contention.
...life or death.
Now you are heir; therefore enjoy it now.
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
It will outrun you, father, in the end.
...should quietly reign.
But for a kingdom any oath may be broken.
I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.
...march afar off.
I hear their drums. Let’s set our men in order,
And issue forth and bid them battle straight.
...the like success?
Alarum. They exit.
ACT 2
Scene 1
...town of York.
A march. Enter Edward, Richard, and their power, all wearing the white rose.
I wonder how our princely father scaped,
Or whether he be scaped away or no
From Clifford’s and Northumberland’s pursuit.
Had he been ta’en, we should have heard the news;
Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;
Or had he scaped, methinks we should have heard
The happy tidings of his good escape.
How fares my brother? Why is he so sad?
...to his love!
Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
...figures some event.
’Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
Each one already blazing by our meeds,
Should notwithstanding join our lights together
And overshine the earth, as this the world.
Whate’er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
Upon my target three fair shining suns.
...my loving lord.
O, speak no more, for I have heard too much!
...e’er I viewed.
Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,
Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
O Clifford, boist’rous Clifford, thou hast slain
The flower of Europe for his chivalry;
And treacherously hast thou vanquished him,
For hand to hand he would have vanquished thee.
Now my soul’s palace is become a prison;
Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
Might in the ground be closèd up in rest,
For never henceforth shall I joy again.
Never, O never, shall I see more joy!
He weeps.
...by attempting it.
His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
...York is slain.
O Warwick, Warwick, that Plantagenet
Which held thee dearly as his soul’s redemption
Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.
...to fight again.
Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
And when came George from Burgundy to England?
...bid him stay.
Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean,
And when thou fail’st—as God forbid the hour!—
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend.
...give thee mine.
Then strike up drums! God and Saint George for us!
...warriors, let’s away!
They all exit.
Scene 2
...“Saint George!”
March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, George, Norfolk, Montague, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
Now, perjured Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace
And set thy diadem upon my head,
Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
...thy lawful king?
I am his king, and he should bow his knee.
I was adopted heir by his consent.
Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
You that are king, though he do wear the crown,
Have caused him, by new act of Parliament,
To blot out me and put his own son in.
...upon his tongue.
Say, Henry, shall I have my right or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts today
That ne’er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.
...thy baseborn heart?
A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns
To make this shameless callet know herself.—
Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
And ne’er was Agamemnon’s brother wronged
By that false woman as this king by thee.
His father reveled in the heart of France,
And tamed the King, and made the Dauphin stoop;
And had he matched according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day.
But when he took a beggar to his bed
And graced thy poor sire with his bridal day,
Even then that sunshine brewed a shower for him
That washed his father’s fortunes forth of France
And heaped sedition on his crown at home.
For what hath broached this tumult but thy pride?
Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept,
And we, in pity of the gentle king,
Had slipped our claim until another age.
...our heated bloods.
And in this resolution, I defy thee,
Not willing any longer conference,
Since thou denied’st the gentle king to speak.—
Sound, trumpets! Let our bloody colors wave;
And either victory or else a grave!
... Stay, Edward!
No, wrangling woman, we’ll no longer stay.
These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.
They all exit.
Scene 3
...I rest awhile.
Enter Edward, wearing the white rose, running.
Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death,
For this world frowns and Edward’s sun is clouded.
...shall we fly?
Bootless is flight; they follow us with wings,
And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit.
...measure of revenge.
O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine,
And in this vow do chain my soul to thine He kneels.
And, ere my knee rise from the Earth’s cold face,
I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee,
Thou setter up and plucker down of kings,
Beseeching Thee, if with Thy will it stands
That to my foes this body must be prey,
Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope
And give sweet passage to my sinful soul. Edward and Warwick stand.
Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
Where’er it be, in heaven or in Earth.
...we hence amain.
They exit.
Scene 6
...breast. He faints.
Alarum and retreat. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, and Soldiers, Montague, and George, all wearing the white rose.
Now breathe we, lords. Good fortune bids us pause
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 filled with a fretting gust
Command an argosy to stem the waves.
But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
...and death’s departing.
See who it is; and, now the battle’s ended,
If friend or foe, let him be gently used.
...must be answerèd.
Bring forth that fatal screech owl to our house
That nothing sung but death to us and ours;
Now death shall stop his dismal threat’ning sound,
And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.
...obtain no grace.
Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
...son to York.
Thou pitied’st Rutland; I will pity thee.
...please my lord.
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
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.
...honors in possession.
They exit, with Clifford’s body.
ACT 3
Scene 2
...humbly yield unto.
Enter King Edward, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, George, Duke of Clarence, Lady Grey, and Attendants.
Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans field
This lady’s husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,
His land then seized on by the conqueror.
Her suit is now to repossess those lands,
Which we in justice cannot well deny,
Because in quarrel of the house of York
The worthy gentleman did lose his life.
...deny it her.
It were no less, but yet I’ll make a pause.
...the wind! Silence!
Widow, we will consider of your suit,
And come some other time to know our mind.
...he’ll take vantages.
How many children hast thou, widow? Tell me.
...ruled by him.
’Twere pity they should lose their father’s lands.
...grant it then.
Lords, give us leave. I’ll try this widow’s wit.
...to the crutch.
Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
...I love myself.
And would you not do much to do them good?
...sustain some harm.
Then get your husband’s lands to do them good.
...unto your Majesty.
I’ll tell you how these lands are to be got.
...your Highness’ service.
What service wilt thou do me if I give them?
...me to do.
But you will take exceptions to my boon.
...cannot do it.
Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
...hear my task?
An easy task; ’tis but to love a king.
...am a subject.
Why, then, thy husband’s lands I freely give thee.
...with a cursy.
But stay thee; ’tis the fruits of love I mean.
...my loving liege.
Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
What love, think’st thou, I sue so much to get?
...and virtue grants.
No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.
...thought you did.
But now you partly may perceive my mind.
...I aim aright.
To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
...lie in prison.
Why, then, thou shalt not have thy husband’s lands.
...not purchase them.
Therein thou wrong’st thy children mightily.
...ay or no.
Ay, if thou wilt say “ay” to my request;
No, if thou dost say “no” to my demand.
...wooer in Christendom.
aside
Her looks doth argue her replete with modesty;
Her words doth show her wit incomparable;
All her perfections challenge sovereignty.
One way or other, she is for a king,
And she shall be my love or else my queen.—
Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?
...be a sovereign.
Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee
I speak no more than what my soul intends,
And that is, to enjoy thee for my love.
...be your concubine.
You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.
...you father.
No more than when my daughters call thee mother.
Thou art a widow and thou hast some children,
And, by God’s mother, I, being but a bachelor,
Have other some. Why, ’tis a happy thing
To be the father unto many sons.
Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.
...’twas for shift.
Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.
...looks very sad.
You’d think it strange if I should marry her.
...who, my lord?
Why, Clarence, to myself.
...wonder in extremes.
Well, jest on, brothers. I can tell you both
Her suit is granted for her husband’s lands.
...your palace gate.
See that he be conveyed unto the Tower.
And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
To question of his apprehension.—
Widow, go you along.—Lords, use her honorably.
They exit. Richard remains.
ACT 4
Scene 1
...what I think.
Enter King Edward, with Attendants, Lady Grey, now Queen Elizabeth, Pembroke, Stafford, Hastings, and others, all wearing the white rose. Four stand on one side, and four on the other.
Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice,
That you stand pensive, as half malcontent?
...at our abuse.
Suppose they take offense without a cause,
They are but Lewis and Warwick; I am Edward,
Your king and Warwick’s, and must have my will.
...seldom proveth well.
Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?
...so well together.
Setting your scorns and your mislike aside,
Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey
Should not become my wife and England’s queen?
And you too, Somerset and Montague,
Speak freely what you think.
...this new marriage.
What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeased
By such invention as I can devise?
...the Lord Hungerford.
Ay, what of that? It was my will and grant,
And for this once my will shall stand for law.
...go speed elsewhere.
Alas, poor Clarence, is it for a wife
That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
...to leave you.
Leave me or tarry, Edward will be king
And not be tied unto his brother’s will.
...and with sorrow.
My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns.
What danger or what sorrow can befall thee
So long as Edward is thy constant friend
And their true sovereign, whom they must obey?
Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
Unless they seek for hatred at my hands;
Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.
...Enter a Post.
Now, messenger, what letters or what news from France?
...Dare not relate.
Go to, we pardon thee. Therefore, in brief,
Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them.
What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters?
...his new bride.”
Is Lewis so brave? Belike he thinks me Henry.
But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?
...for his sake.”
I blame not her; she could say little less;
She had the wrong. But what said Henry’s queen?
For I have heard that she was there in place.
...put armor on.”
Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
But what said Warwick to these injuries?
...’t be long.”
Ha! Durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?
Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarned.
They shall have wars and pay for their presumption.
But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?
...but the crown.
Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick?
Yet am I armed against the worst can happen,
And haste is needful in this desp’rate case.
Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
Go levy men and make prepare for war.
They are already, or quickly will be, landed.
Myself in person will straight follow you.
But ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
Resolve my doubt: you twain, of all the rest,
Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance.
Tell me if you love Warwick more than me.
If it be so, then both depart to him.
I rather wish you foes than hollow friends.
But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
That I may never have you in suspect.
...favors Edward’s cause!
Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us?
...shall withstand you.
Why, so. Then am I sure of victory.
Now therefore let us hence and lose no hour
Till we meet Warwick with his foreign power.
They exit.
Scene 3
...or thou diest!
The drum playing and trumpet sounding, enter Warwick, Somerset, and the rest, bringing King Edward out in his gown, sitting in a chair. Richard and Hastings flies over the stage.
...is the Duke.
The Duke?
Why, Warwick, when we parted, thou call’dst me king.
...yourself from enemies?
Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too?
Nay, then, I see that Edward needs must down.
Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
Edward will always bear himself as king.
Though Fortune’s malice overthrow my state,
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
...Edward England’s king,
Takes off his crown.
...Duke of York.
They begin to lead him out forcibly.
What Fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
Somerset and Soldiers exit, guarding King Edward.
Scene 5
...from his captivity.
Enter King Edward, wearing the white rose, and a Huntsman with him.
...lies the game.
Nay, this way, man. See where the huntsmen stand.—
Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
Stand you thus close to steal the Bishop’s deer?
...the park corner.
But whither shall we then?
...was my meaning.
Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness.
...time to talk.
Huntsman, what sayst thou? Wilt thou go along?
...no more ado.
Bishop, farewell; shield thee from Warwick’s frown,
And pray that I may repossess the crown.
They exit.
Scene 7
...about it speedily.
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, Hastings, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest:
Yet thus far Fortune maketh us amends,
And says that once more I shall interchange
My wanèd state for Henry’s regal crown.
Well have we passed, and now re-passed, the seas,
And brought desirèd help from Burgundy.
What then remains, we being thus arrived
From Ravenspurgh Haven before the gates of York,
But that we enter as into our dukedom?
...danger lurks within.
Tush, man, abodements must not now affright us.
By fair or foul means we must enter in,
For hither will our friends repair to us.
...allegiance unto Henry.
But, master mayor, if Henry be your king,
Yet Edward, at the least, is Duke of York.
...for no less.
Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom,
As being well content with that alone.
...and two Aldermen.
So, master mayor, these gates must not be shut
But in the night or in the time of war.
What, fear not, man, but yield me up the keys. Takes his keys.
For Edward will defend the town and thee
And all those friends that deign to follow me.
...I be deceived.
Welcome, Sir John. But why come you in arms?
...ought to do.
Thanks, good Montgomery. But we now forget
Our title to the crown, and only claim
Our dukedom, till God please to send the rest.
...begins to march.
Nay, stay, Sir John, a while, and we’ll debate
By what safe means the crown may be recovered.
...on nice points?
When we grow stronger, then we’ll make our claim.
Till then ’tis wisdom to conceal our meaning.
...you many friends.
Then be it as you will, for ’tis my right,
And Henry but usurps the diadem.
...Edward the Fourth!
Thanks, brave Montgomery, and thanks unto you all.
If fortune serve me, I’ll requite this kindness.
Now, for this night let’s harbor here in York,
And when the morning sun shall raise his car
Above the border of this horizon,
We’ll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
Ah, froward Clarence, how evil it beseems thee
To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we’ll meet both thee and Warwick.
Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day;
And that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.
They exit.
Scene 8
...shouts are these?
Enter King Edward and Richard and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
Seize on the shamefaced Henry, bear him hence,
And once again proclaim us King of England.—
You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow.
Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry
And swell so much the higher by their ebb.—
Hence with him to the Tower. Let him not speak.
And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course,
Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
The sun shines hot, and if we use delay,
Cold biting winter mars our hoped-for hay.
...amain towards Coventry.
They exit.
ACT 5
Scene 1
...shall quickly know.
March. Flourish. Enter below, King Edward, Richard, and Soldiers, including a Trumpeter, all wearing the white rose.
Go, Trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
...of his repair?
Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates,
Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee?
Call Edward king, and at his hands beg mercy,
And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
...to thy brother.
Why, then, ’tis mine, if but by Warwick’s gift.
...Warwick his subject.
But Warwick’s king is Edward’s prisoner.
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
What is the body when the head is off?
...in the Tower.
’Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
...strike to thee.
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.”
...us enter too.
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 defense,
We’ll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.
...your bodies bear!
The harder matched, the greater victory.
My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.
...no more unconstant.
Now, welcome more, and ten times more beloved,
Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.
...perjured and unjust.
What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
...if thou dar’st.
Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.—
Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory!
They exit. March. Warwick and his company follows.
Scene 2
Enter King Edward, wearing the white rose, bringing forth Warwick, wearing the red rose, wounded.
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.
He exits.
Scene 3
...Queen’s great power!
Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Richard, Clarence, and the rest, all wearing the white rose.
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 threat’ning 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.
...strong as ours.
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.
They exit.
Scene 4
...will not budge.
Flourish, and march. Enter King Edward, Richard, Clarence, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
to his army
Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood
Which by the heavens’ assistance and your strength
Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For, well I wot, you blaze to burn them out.
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!
...to the fight!
They exit.
Scene 5
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, and Clarence, all wearing the white rose, with Soldiers guarding Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, all wearing the red rose, prisoners.
Now here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight.
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go bear them hence. I will not hear them speak.
...in sweet Jerusalem.
Is proclamation made that who finds Edward
Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
...rose, under guard.
Bring forth the gallant; let us hear him speak.
What, can so young a thorn begin to prick?—
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turned me to?
...scolding crookback, rather.
Peace, willful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
...right and mine.
Take that, the likeness of this railer here!
Stabs him.
...to kill her.
Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done too much.
...Queen Margaret faints.
What, doth she swoon? Use means for her recovery.
...sweet young prince.
Away with her. Go bear her hence perforce.
...ne’er putt’st back.
Away, I say! (To Soldiers.)
I charge you bear her hence.
...to this prince!
Where’s Richard gone?
...in the Tower.
He’s sudden if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence. Discharge the common sort
With pay and thanks, and let’s away to London
And see our gentle queen how well she fares.
By this I hope she hath a son for me.
They exit.
Scene 7
...day of doom.
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Queen Elizabeth, Clarence, Richard of Gloucester, Hastings, Nurse, carrying infant Prince Edward, and Attendants.
Once more we sit in England’s royal throne,
Repurchased with the blood of enemies.
What valiant foemen, like to autumn’s corn,
Have we mowed down in tops of all their pride!
Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renowned
For hardy and undoubted champions;
Two Cliffords, as the father and the son;
And two Northumberlands; two braver men
Ne’er spurred their coursers at the trumpet’s sound.
With them the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,
That in their chains fettered the kingly lion
And made the forest tremble when they roared.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat
And made our footstool of security.—
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.—
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself
Have in our armors watched the winter’s night,
Went all afoot in summer’s scalding heat,
That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace,
And of our labors thou shalt reap the gain.
...that shalt execute.
Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen,
And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
...kisses the infant.
Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.
...meant all harm.
Now am I seated as my soul delights,
Having my country’s peace and brothers’ loves.
...for her ransom.
Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
And now what rests but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befits the pleasure of the court?
Sound drums and trumpets! Farewell, sour annoy,
For here I hope begins our lasting joy.
Flourish. They all exit.