The Complete Dramatic and Poetical Works of William Shakespeare

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 cham-
pion that ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the
edge, or cut not out the burly-boned clown in
chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I be-
seech God on my knees thou mayst be turned to
hobnails.
[Here they fight. Cude 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'ld
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

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 know 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.

Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble. Buck. York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well. [greeting. York. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?

Buck. 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
O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, [great:
I am so angry at these abject terms;
And now, like Ajax Telamonius,

On sheep or oxen could I spend iny 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.

Buck. 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? Buck. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner. York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers. Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves; Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field, You shall have pay and every thing 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, any thing I have, Is his to use, so Somerset may die. Buck. York, I commend this kind submission: We twain will go into his highness' tent.

Enter King and Attendants.

King. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm? [us, York. In all submission and humility

York doth present himself unto your highness. King. 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. The head of Cade! Great God, how just O, let me view his visage, being dead, [art Thou! 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. How art thou call'd? and what is thy deIden. Alexander Iden, that's my name; [gree? A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king.

Buck. So please it you, my lord, 't were not amiss He were created knight for his good service.

King. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels.] Rise up a We give thee for reward a thousand marks, [knight. And will that thou henceforth attend on us. Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege! [Rises.

Enter Queen and Somerset.

King. See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke. [queen:

Queen. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his
But boldly stand and front him to his face. [head,
York. How now! is Somerset at liberty?
Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd 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 darest 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.
Som. 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
If they can brook I bow a knee to man. [of these,
Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail:

[Exit Attendant.
I know, ere they 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-besotted 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.

And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the baiting place.
Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withhield;
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.
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn your-
selves.
[bow?

King. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick 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.

Sal. My lord, I have consider'd with myself
The title of this most renowned duke;
And in my conscience do repute his grace
The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
King. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
Sal. I have.
[an oath?
King. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such
Sal. 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 murderous 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,

See where they come: I'll warrant they 'll make it And have no other reason for this wrong
good.

Enter old Clifford and his Son.
Queen. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
Člif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king!
[Kneels.
York. I thank thee, Clifford : say, what news with
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look: [thee?
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistakest me much to think I do:
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
King. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious
humour

Makes him oppose himself against his king.
Clif. 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?

Edw. Ay, noble fatlier, if our words will serve.
Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons

shall.

Clif. 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.
Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears
to death,

But that he was bound by a solemn oath?
Queen. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
King. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou
I am resolved for death or dignity.

[hast,

Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.
War. You were best to go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

Clif. I am resolved 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.
War. 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 show's
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.

Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.

Rich. Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite,
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.
Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou
canst tell.

Rich. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.
[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II. Saint Alban's.

Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick.
War. Clifford of Cumberland, 't is 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 afoot?
York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
But match to match I have encounter'd him
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.

Enter old Clifford.

War. Of one or both of us the time is come.
York. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other

chase,

Enter Richard and Somerset to fight. Somerset is killed.

Rich. So, lie thou there;

For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Alban's, 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. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.

Queen. What are you made of? you'll nor fight Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence, [nor fly: To give the enemy way, and to secure us War. Then, nobly, York; 't is for a crown thou By what we can, which can no more but fly. fight'st.

For I myself must hunt this deer to death.

As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,

It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. [Exit. Člif. 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.

Clif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem,

But that 't is shown ignobly and in treason.

York. So let it help me now against thy sword As I in justice and true right express it.

Clif. My soul and body on the action both! York. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly. [They fight, and Clifford falls. Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres. [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.

Y. Clif. 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.

[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 loved
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopp'd.

Retreat. Enter York, Richard, War-
wick, and Soldiers, with drum and colours.
York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
That winter lion, who in rage forgets
Aged contusions and all brush of time,
And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
Repairs him with occasion? This happy day
Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,
If Salisbury be lost.

Rich.

My noble father, Three times to-day I holp him to his horse, [Seeing his dead father. Three times bestrid him; thrice I led him off,

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 't is 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.

Persuaded him from any further act:

But still, where danger was, still there I met him;
And like rich hangings in a homely house,

So was his will in his old feeble body.
But, noble as he is, look where he comes.

Enter Salisbury.

Sal. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought
to-day;

By the mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard:
God knows how long it is I have to live;'

And it hath pleased him that three times to-day
You have defended me from imminent death.
Well, lords, we have not got that which we have:
'T is not enough our foes are this time fled,
Being opposites of such repairing nature.

York. I know our safety is to follow them;
For, as I hear, the king is fled to London,
To call a present court of parliament.
Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.
What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them?
War. After them! nay, before them, if we can.
Now, by my faith, lords, 't was a glorious day:
Saint Alban's battle won by famous York
Shall be eternized in all age to come.
Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all:
[Exit, bearing off his father. | And more such days as these to us befall! [Exeunt.

Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
As did Eneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Eneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

[north,

SCENE I.-London. The Parliament-house. Alarum. Enter the Duke of York, Edward, Richard, Norfolk, Montague, Warwick, and Soldiers. War. I wonder how the king escaped our hands. York. While we pursued the horsemen of the He slily stole away and left his men: Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. Edw. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of BuckingIs either slain or wounded dangerously; [ham, I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: That this is true, father, behold his blood. [blood, Mont. And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. Rich. Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. [Throwing down the Duke of Somerset's head. York. Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerseť? Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. War. And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, Before I see thee seated in that throne Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. This is the palace of the fearful king, And this the regal seat: possess it, York; For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs'. York. Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; For hither we have broken in by force.

Norf. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.

[They go up.

War. And when the king comes, offer him no violence,

Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. [ment,
York. The queen this day here holds her parlia
But little thinks we shall be of her council:
By words or blows here let us win our right.
Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.
War. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king,
And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice
Hath made us by-words to our enemies.

York. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute;
I mean to take possession of my right.
War. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best,
The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells.
I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares:
Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
Flourish. Enter King Henry, Clifford, Northumber-
land, Westmoreland, Exeter, and the rest.
K. Hen. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
Even in the chair of state: belike he means,
Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.
Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father,
And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd
revenge

On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends.

North. If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! Clif. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. [down: West. What, shall we suffer this? let 's pluck him My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. K. Hen. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. Clif. Patience is for poltroons, such as he: He durst not sit there, had your father lived. My gracious lord, here in the parliament Let us assail the family of York.

North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. K. Hen. Ah, know you not the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? Exe. But when the duke is slain, they 'll quickly fly. [heart, K. Hen. Far be the thought of this from Henry's To make a shambles of the parliament-house! Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats Shall be the war that Henry means to use. Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; I am thy sovereign. York. I am thine. [of York. Exe. For shame, come down: he made thee Duke York. 'T was my inheritance, as the earldom was. Exe. Thy father was a traitor to the crown. War. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown In following this usurping Henry.

Clif. Whom should he follow but his natural king? War. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. [throne? K. Hen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my York. It must and shall be so: content thyself. War. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. West. He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget That we are those which chased you from the field And slew your fathers, and with colours spread March'd through the city to the palace gates.

North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. West. Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, Thy kinsmen and thy friends, I'll have more lives Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.

Clif. Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir.

[threats! War. Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless York. Will you we show our title to the crown? If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.

K. Hen. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?

Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
I am the son of Henry the Fifth,

Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop
And seized upon their towns and provinces.

War. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. K. Hen. The lord protector lost it, and not I: When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. Rich. You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.

Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Edw. Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. Mont. Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms,

Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. Rich. Sound drums and trumpets, and the king York. Sons, peace! [will fly. K. Hen. Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. lords;

War. Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, And be you silent and attentive too, For he that interrupts him shall not live. [throne, K. Hen. Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?

No: first shall war unpeople this my realm;
Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
My title 's good, and better far than his.

War. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.
K. Hen. Henry the Fourth by conquest got the

crown.

York. "T was by rebellion against his king.
K. Hen. [Aside] I know not what to say; my
title 's weak.-

Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
York. What then?

K. Hen. An if he may, then am I lawful king;
For Richard, in the view of many lords,
Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whose heir my father was, and I am his.

York. He rose against him, being his sovereign, And made him to resign his crown perforce. War. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain`d, Think you 't were prejudicial to his crown?

Exe. No; for he could not so resign his crown But that the next heir should succeed and reign. K. Hen. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? Exe. His is the right, and therefore pardon me. York. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?

Ece. My conscience tells me he is lawful king. K. Hen. [Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him.

North. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay 'st, Think not that Henry shall be so deposed.

War. Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. North. Thou art deceived: 't is not thy southern

power,

Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,
Can set the duke up in despite of me.

Clif. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence:
May that ground gape and swallow me alive,
Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!
K. Hen. O Clifford, how thy words revive my
heart!

York. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? War. Do right unto this princely Duke of York, Or I will fill the house with armed men, And over the chair of state, where now he sits, Write up his title with usurping blood.

[He stamps with his foot, and the Soldiers

show themselves. K. Hen. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one Let me for this my life-time reign as king. [word: York. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. King. I am content: Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.

Clif. What wrong is this unto the prince your son!
War. What good is this to England and himself!
West. Base, fearful and despairing Henry!
Clif. How hast thou injured both thyself and us!
West. I cannot stay to hear these articles.
North. Nor I.

news.

Clif. Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these [king, West. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. North. Be thou a prey unto the house of York, And die in bands for this unmanly deed! Clif. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, Or live in peace abandon'd and despised!

[Exeunt North., Cliff., and West. War. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. Exe. They seek revenge and therefore will not K. Hen. Åh, Exeter! [yield. War. Why should you sigh, my lord?

« Föregående Fortsätt »

Böcker

The Complete Dramatic and Poetical Works of William Shakespeare, Volym 2