THE MISERY OF CIVIL-WAR.  
A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted at the DUKE's Theatre, By His Royal highness's Servants.  
Written by Mr. CROWN.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street in Covent-Garden, 1680.   

PROLOGUE.  
REligious Broils to such a height are grown,  
All the sweet sound of Poetry they drown.  
Were Orpheus here, his Lute might charm our Beasts,  
Our Mastiffs, not our Robble, or our Priests.  
Good Heaven! Sirs! are there no other ways  
To damn the Pope, but damning all our Plays?  
To our Religion 'tis no Praise at all,  
That, if our Wit must stand, our Faith must fall.  
All parties in a Playhouse may agree,  
The Stage is privileged from Piety.  
'Tis pleasant, Sirs, to see you fight and brawl  
About Religion, but have none at all.  
Most fiercely for the Road to Heaven contend,  
But never care to reach the Journeys end.  
Though you lose Heaven, you will keep the Way,  
The Pope sha'n't have you, though the Devil may.  
These things such business for the Critics find,  
They're not at leisure Poetry to mind,  
Well for the Poet 'tis they're so employed;  
Else this poor Work of his would be destroyed.  
For by his feeble Skill 'tis built alone,  
The Divine Shakespeare did not lay one Stone.  
Besides this Tragedy a Rod will prove,  
To whip us for a Fault, we too much Love,  
And have for ages lived, called Civil Strife.  
The English Nation, like a Russian Wife,  
Is to a gentle Husband always cursed,  
And loves him best, who uses her the worst.  
This Poet, (though perhaps in Colours faint)  
Those scurvy Joys does in all Postures Paint  
Fools take in pelting out each others Brains:  
A joy, for which this Nation oft takes pains.  
If any like the Ills he shows to day,  
Let them be damned and let them damn the Play.   

The Persons Represented in the Tragedy.  
KIng Henry the Sixth, Prince Edward, King Henry's Son. By Mr. Joseph Williams. Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, By Mr. David Williams. Edward, eldest Son of Richard Plantagenet, and after his Father's death King of England, By Mr. Smith. George, Duke of Clarence, second Son of the Duke of York, By Mr. Bowman Richard, the third Son, called Crook-back, By Mr. Gillow. Rutland a Child, the youngest Son.  The Great Earl of Warwick, By Mr. Batterton. Old Lord Clifford, By Mr. Pearcival. Young Clifford, his Son, By Mr. Wiltshire. Queen Margaret, Wife of King Henry, Mrs. Leigh. Lady Grey, the Widow of Sir John Grey, beloved and at length married by King Edward the fourth, By Mrs. Batterton. Lady Elinor Butler, a young Lady of great quality, that was one of King Edward's Mistresses, By Mrs. Currer.  
SCENE, ENGLAND.   

THE MISERIES OF Civil-War.  


ACT. I. SCENE. I.  
A Noise of Fighting; a Shout for Victory.  Enter Cade and his Rabble. Cade. 
FLing all my dead Subjects into the Thames.  
Now say, what place is this?  Butch. 
'Tis London-Stone.  Cade. 
Then am I Mortimer, Lord of this City;  
And here, ay, sitting upon London-Stone,  
Declare, this is the first day of our Reign.  
So I command the Conduits all Piss Claret:  
And I proclaim it Treason now for any man  
To call me other than Lord Mortimer.  Enter a Soldier running. Sould. 
Jack Cade, Jack! Jack!  Cade. 
Knock down that saucy Fellow.  [A Butcher kill's him. Butch. 
If he has wit, he'll never call thy Honour  
Jack Cade again.  Cade. 
I think he has fair warning.  Enter a Cobbler, with a Scrivener. Cob. 
My Lord! my Lord!  Cade. 
Well said, a mannerly Fellow.  Cob. 
I have catched a Scrivener here, setting Boys Copies.  Cade. 
Oh! there's a Villain! a corrupter of Youth.  Cob. 
He has a Book in's pocket with red Letters in't.  Cade. 
Then he's a Conjurer.  Cob. 
He can write Bills, and Bonds, and Obligations, to bind  
People to undo themselves, and pay Money, whether they  
Can or no; such a Rogue is enough to undo a Nation.  Cade. 
I'm sorry for it, for on my honour he's a proper fellow:  
He shall not die unless I find him Guilty.  Cob. 
He shall die, Guilty or not Guilty; I brought him to be  
Hanged, and I will not lose my labour. I love hanging, there's  
Never any hanging, but I leave my Stall to go see it.  
Hanging-day is my holiday, and I will keep Cobbler's holiday.  Cade. 
We'll hang him, but we'll examine him first.  Cob. 
No hang him first, for now no man will confess,  
Till after he's hanged.  Cade. 
I will examine him.— Sirrah! what's thy Name!  Scriu. 
Emanuel.  Cob. 
Emanuel!  
That's a strange Name, Friend 'twill go very hard with you.  Cade. 
Let me alone! Friend, dost thou write thy Name,  
Or use a mark like a plain honest man?  Scriu. 
Sir. I thank Heaven, I have been so well bred,  
That I can write my name.  All. 
He has confessed,  
He's a stranger, and a Villain, hang him.  Cade. 
Hang him with his Pen and Ink about his Neck.  Enter others with the Lord Say Prisoner. 
My Lord, my Lord, a prize an't like thy Honour.  
Here's the Lord Say, who sold the Towns in France,  
And made us pay one and twenty Fifteens  
And a shilling to the pound, last Subsidy.  Cade. 
I will behead him one and twenty times.  
Come scurvy Lord, what canst thou say  
To our Mightiness, for giving up our Towns  
To Monsieur Basimecu; the Dolphin of France?  
Be it known unto thee, Traitor, by these presents,  
Even by the presence of myself, Lord Mortimer,  
That I will sweep the world clean of such filth.  
Thou Traitorously hast built a Grammar-School,  
To debauch all the youth, and whereas formerly  
Our Grandsires used no Book, but Score and Tally,  
Thou hast caused wicked Printing to be used,  
And contrary to the King, his Crown and Dignity,  
Hast built a Papermill. It will be proved,  
That thou hast Servants talk of Nouns and Verbs,  
And such vile Words no Christian e'er can here.  
Thou hast appointed Justices of Peace,  
To call poor men before 'em, about matters  
They could not answer; yes, and thou hast hanged 'em,  
Because they could not read.  Cob. 
There was a Villain!  Cade. 
Thou rid'st upon a foot-cloth, dost thou not?  Say. 
Well what of that?  Cade. 
Why is it not a shame  
Thy Horse should wear a Cloak, when honest men  
Go in their Hose and Doublets?  Say. 
Well, I find  
You men of Kent—  All. 
What of us men of Kent?  Say. 
That Kent is, bona terra mala gens.  Cade. 
Bold Traitor, he speaks Latin in my presence.  
Go hang him, hang him.  Say. 
Hear me, Countrymen.  Cade. 
Hear Latin! Villain? hang him.  All. 
Hang him, hang him.—  [They drag him away. Butch. 
We'll hang up every man that can speak-Latin.  Cade. 
Well counselled Butcher, counselled like a Butcher.  
We will, and more, for they are but few.  Tay. 
We'll hang up any man that can speak French.  
For I'm a Tailor, and there is no man  
That can speak French will let me work a stitch for 'em.  Cob. 
We'll hang up all the Lords and Gentlemen.  
Spare none but such as go in clouted shoes;  
For I'm a Cobbler, and live by those.  Tayl. 
But by your favour, Sir, I am a Tailor  
And, Sir, I live by Lords and Gentlemen;  
I only would hang those that owe me money,  
And will not pay me.  Cade. 
Why, thou stitching Coxcomb!  
We will be Lords and Gentlemen ourselves.  Tayl. 
Oh! that's another thing.  Cade. 
Another thing!  
What do we fight for else, you silly Rascal?  Cob. 
'Tis true, my Lord, we ought to be Great-men,  
For it is said, Labour in thy Vocation:  
That is, let Magistrates be labouring-men,  
Therefore we labouring men ought to be Magistrates;  
And I will be Lord Cobbler, and a Counsellor.  Carp. 
I'll be Lord Carpenter, for 'tis a shame  
That none of the King's Council are good Workmen.  Cob. 
The Lords, forsooth scorn to wear leather Aprons.  Cade. 
We'll make 'em glad to go in leather Aprons.  Butch. 
We'll stick 'em all, and we'll be Lords ourselves.  Tayl. 
I'll be contented to be but a Knight.  Cob. 
Shall we not spare the Lords that are our friends,  
Such as thy Cousin Plantagenet, and others?  Cade. 
No Lord is our Friend, you Fool, they merely choose us.  Butch. 
How/ merely choose us?  Cade. 
I say merely choose us.  
All the fine words and money that they give us  
Is nothing else but buying of Calves-heads.  Butch. 
My Cleaver then shall choose 'em of their Brains.  Cade. 
When they have done with us, they'll turn us off.  Butch. 
Here are brave Knaves.  Tayl. 
His Honour understands 'em.  Cob. 
I Gad, my Lord's a devilish perilous Fellow.  
Prithee, my Lord, what ails these plaguy Lords  
To keep this coil, when they have a power o' money,  
Brave Lands, and gallant Wenches to their Wives?  Cade. 
I'll tell thee Tom the Cobbler, here's my shoe;  
Dost thou believe my shoe, if it had wit,  
Would carry me up and down all day i'th' dirt;  
Or dost thou think my Breeches would be sat on,  
Or Doublet clothe my Back, and by that means  
Be often cudgelled, if they had any wit;  
No, if they had any wit, they would be Caps.  Cob. 
True, but thy worship's Cap is sometimes cudgelled:  
I have known thy Honour have a broken pate.  Cade. 
Ay but pride feels no hurt; so some great Lords  
Are trodden under foot like dirty shoes,  
Some hang like Doublets on the Nations back,  
And some like Breeches only on the tail.  
But by their good wills they would all be Caps,  
And so would you my friends if you be wise.  Cob. 
We'll all be Caps.  All. 
All Caps, all Caps, all Caps.  Cade 
If you'll be Caps, hang all Lords and Gentlemen,  
And all rich Citizens.  Butch. 
How, all rich Citizens?  
Prithee my Lord, they are my particular Friends,  
They buy more Meat, than all the Lords in England.  
And then they promise they'll do great things for us,  
If we will help 'em to redress their Grievances.  God. 
Butcher, those promises are but a mere cheat,  
These men puff thee, just as thou blowest thy Veal,  
Only to make thee swell for their own ends.  Butch. 
Are they such Knaves?  Cade. 
Oh they are notorious Knaves,  
They cheat the Town, their Wives, themselves, and us.  
They sit up nightly a Plotting, and Caballing,  
So cheat their Wives of due benevolence,  
They leave their Shops a-days, for State-Affairs,  
So cheat themselves of money they might get,  
And cheat the Town of Trade that it might have,  
And last they mean to cheat us of our Necks,  
Put us on Plots for them, then have us hanged.  
Now my good subjects we are bound in Conscience,  
To take their Wives and give 'em due Benevolence,  
To take their Shops, and give the Town it's due,  
To hang the men, and give the Rope it's due,  
And so we shall be very honest fellows.  All. 
Ay, Ay, we shall be very honest fellows.  Cob. 
In short we'll ha' no Trades but Eating, and  
Drinking. We'll have seven halfpenny Loaves  
For a Farthing, and a Pint-pot shall hold a  
Gallon; and so let us about our hanging work.  Cade. 
Go, Subjects, go, but pray remember one thing,  
To hang the Lawyers when your hand is in.  Cob. 
I warrant thee, my Lord, we'll hang the Lawyers:  
But now I think on't they wear out  
Abundance of Shoe-leather in going to Westminster.  
Hall, and employ Cobblers much.  
Besides they help to undo Lords, and Gentlemen.  
But now I think on't we can undo 'em  
Fast enough ourselves, by burning their Houses,  
And taking their Lands. The Lawyers  
Have a sure way of undoing 'em, but it's more tedious,  
Ours is most quick, and as sure;  
So we shall have no use o' the Lawyers,  
And so le's hang 'em.  
And for that reason too  
Let's hang the Doctors and Pothecaries.  
For though they do kill Gentry pretty well,  
Yet we have a better, quicker way;  
By knocking 'em o' the head.  Cade. 
Subjects, hang the Doctors and Pothecaries, but  
Hang the Lawyers first, for fear they  
Hang you— for when you have had  
A thousand broken heads, and settled all things,  
As right as you would wish, a Roguy Lawyer  
Will ruin all again with a mere quirk.  Cob. 
A quirk! what's a quirk?  Cade. 
— A quirk— why 'tis a quirk—  Cob. 
Well, but what is a quirk?  Butch. 
What's matter what a quirk is? I know  
What my Lord means by quirk.  Cob. 
Do you so, Sir: Then you are a Scholar are  
You? Sir, as little learning as this has made  
Many a man a Priest, you deserve to have  
Your brains beaten out.  Butch. 
My brains?  Cade. 
Hold Cobbler and Butcher! Civil Wars  
Among ourselves.  Cob. 
I hate Scholars, I will have no man live  
Among us that knows more than I  
But I would know what a quirk is.  Cade. 
Dost know what an Awl is?  Cob. 
I think I do.  Cade. 
Then as thou borest holes in shoes with  
Thy Awl to mend 'em, Lawyers with quirks bore  
Holes in Estates to mar 'em.  Cob. 
Oh! Oh!  Cade. 
For this, and other reasons hang the Lawyers.  
They strive to make the Subjects break the Law,  
And then they make the Law break all the Subjects,  
And cunningly they make such rotten Laws,  
That men must break 'em all spite of their Teeth,  
We send (you know) sometimes men to make Laws,  
And there these men sit hatching Laws and Laws,  
And as they think hatch sound and wholesome Laws:  
A plaguy Lawyer gets his finger in,  
And put's such scurvy quirks into the Law,  
That when 'tis hatched, I Gad the rotten Law  
Falls all to pieces like a pocky Child.  Butch. 
There are pure Knaves for you, since they  
Are for quirks,  
We'll go and put such quirks in the Inns of Court  
Shall tumble them all down about their ears.  Cade. 
Do, honest subjects, do.  Cob. 
We will, my Lord.  
And prithee let thy mouth be all the Law.  Cade. 
Cobbler well said, my mouth shall be the Law,  
For all the Law of England is but mouth;  
When you are at law, it is not the best cause,  
But the best mouth that always carries it.  Cob. 
Prithee let thy month be Westminster-Hall,  
And my mouth shall be Paul's:  
For we ha' no use o' Churches, nor Steeples,  
Nor Priests, the chief use o' Priests is to eat  
Pig, we can eat Pig as well as they.  Cade. 
We have no use o' the Inns of Court, or Tower,  
Pluck down the Tower, and burn all the Records,  
Why should we keep  
Mouldy Records of what our Grandsires did?  
For we do what we will for all our Grandsires  
On London bridge hang Traitors heads, and quarters.  
These are Records too, but who minds Records?  
Burn all Records— Records?  All. 
Burn all Records.  Cade. 
Who sounds a parley there?  Enter a Soldier. Soul. 
One from the King.  Cade. 
Well let him come, I don't care if I speak with him.  Enter Old Lord Clifford. 
Well what's thy business with me?  Old Cl. 
Thou vile Rebel,  
Why dost thou thus disturb the King, and Kingdom?  Cade. 
Thou Fool, to have my own, I'm heir to the Crown.  Old Cl. 
Impudent Slave, thy Father was a Plasterer.  Cob. 
Yes, and his Mother was a Midwife, what's that?  Cade. 
Well, Adam was a Gardener, what's that?  
Say, did not Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March  
Marry the Daughter o' the Duke of Clarence?  Old Cl. 
He did, Sir Clown, and what is that to you?  Cade. 
By her he had two Children at a Birth;  
The Elder of 'em being put to Nurse,  
Was stole away by a stinking Beggar-woman,  
(Like a damned cursed jade) and by that means  
The Princely Infant was bred up a Bricklayer,  
And I'm the Princely Offspring of that Infant.  Old Cl. 
Plantagenet invented this fine story.  Cade. 
You lie, for I invented it myself.  Old Cl. 
I am sent by the King to offer pardon  
To all that will forsake thee, and go home.  
What say you Countrymen, will you be happy  
And leave this Rogue, or follow him and be hanged?  All. 
I don't know what to think on't?  [All mutter. Cade. 
Are you muttering?  
Why, you damned fools, will you believe a Lord?  
Do they not often run into your Debts,  
And promise payment, and ne'er keep their words?  
Do they not often with fine promises  
Delude your Daughters, and when they have enjoyed them,  
Do they ere keep their words? Then follow me.  All. 
A Cade, a Cade! we'll follow thee, Jack Cade.  Old. Cl. 
You'll follow Cade? pray whither, to the Gallows?  
He has no other home to lead you to.  
He knows not how to live but by the spoil;  
But say that whilst you rob and kill your Countrymen,  
The fearful French whom you but lately vanquished,  
Should make a start o'er Seas and vanquish you;  
Had you not better go and spoil the French,  
And the King pay you too for your good service,  
Than here Rebel, and the King hang you all  
For Rogues, or worse, the French come make you slaves?  All. 
I don't know what to think on't—  [All mutter. Cade. 
Again muttering?  
Who'll ever trust such cursed whistling Rascals?  Enter young Clifford and Follower's. Yo. Cl. 
What are you doing, my Lord? treating with Rascals?  
It were too vile an Office for a Scavenger,  
To sweep such dirt into the Common shore?  
And are you treating with 'em? Nay, and treating  
In the King's name too? very fine indeed,  
The King must barter for his Crown with Rascals,  
What ever price the Villains make him pay,  
Though his Crown should be dear, himself is cheap,  
I with no Tongue but this will talk to Rebels.  [Draws, all fight on the Stage. Ex. The Scene a Tent. Enter King Henry. Hen. 
Never had King less joy in Throne than I,  
Nor more misfortune. Heaven was pleased to set  
My Cradle on the top of humane Glory,  
Where I lay helpless, open to all Storms.  
My Childish hand, not able to support  
My Father's Sword, dropped the victorious point,  
And let fall all the Laurels that adorned it,  
And French and English fell a scrambling for 'em,  
So lost I France; now am I threatened too  
By wicked Rebels, with the loss of England.  
Cade and his Rebels drive me from my City,  
Plantagenet seek's to drive me from my Kingdom.  Enter the Queen, and her Train. Qu. 
Take comfort, Sir, I bring you happy tidings.  
The Villain Cade is killed by brave young Clifford.  Hen. 
Killed!  Qu. 
Killed, and all the Rebels beg your mercy.  Hen. 
Oh! Heaven accept my vows of thanks and praise.  
But ha! here comes his gallant Father weeping.  Enter Old Clifford. Ol. Cl. 
Yes Sir, I weep, but I weep tears of Joy,  
For I am crushed between two mighty Joys;  
Your Royal safety, and my Son's success.  
But here he is, to tell you his own story.  Enter Young Clifford. Yo. Cl. 
Sir, I most humbly here present your Majesty  
The Head of the notorious Rebel Cade.  Hen. 
Oh! Gallant Clifford, how shall I reward thee?  Yo. Cl. 
I fought not for rewards, or if I did,  
I ought to end my work, ere I be paid,  
I have only now pulled down a paltry Scaffold,  
On which Plantagenet designed to climb,  
To build his Traitorous Projects.  Hen. 
True indeed,  
He is approaching me with a great Army;  
But he gives out he only does intend  
To drive away from me some wicked Ministers.  Yo. Cl. 
The constant vizard of Rebellion.  
Rebellion is so foul and grim a Monster,  
That those that mount the horrid Beast, are forced  
To cover it all o'er with gaudy Trappings.  
They mark it in the Forehead with white stars,  
Pretences Heavenly, and Innocent.  Qu. 
Sir, he has told you a most excellent truth.  Hen. 
I must confess I like not to have Subjects  
Present their King's Petitions upon Pikes.  Old Cl. 
Sir, let the Rebels come, we are prepared.  Enter an Officer. Offi. 
A Trumpet from Plantagenet craves audience.  Hen. 
Admit him.  Enter the Trumpet. Trum. 
Royal Sir, the Duke my master  
Does beg admission to your Kingly presence,  
To give you the true Reason of his arming,  
And prove his Loyalty.  Qu. 
Just as we thought.  Hen. 
Go tell my Cousin, since he speaks so fair,  
He shall have free access and all kind usage.  [Exit. Trum. Old Cl. 
What do you mean Sir?  Hen. 
To throw far from myself  
The guilt of all the ill that may ensue.  
He shall not say that I refused to hear,  
Or to redress any just grievances.  Y. Cl. 
Sir, you will find yourself will be the grievance.  
The Tricks of these ambitious men are, first  
To poison all the People with disloyalty,  
And when they have made 'em sick, they tell 'em nothing  
Can cure 'em but foam flowers out of the Crown;  
And so they set the rabble raving for 'em.  Qu. 
Lord Clifford when the haughty rebelcom is  
Arrest him of High-Treason.  Old Cl. 
I will do it, Madam.  Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard, George: Plant. kneels, and kisses the King's Hand. Hen. 
Welcome dear Cousin. Pray acquaint me faithfully,  
What do you mean by all the Troops you bring?  Pl. 
Only to drive some Traitors from your presence.  Qu. 
I know no greater Traitors than yourself.  Old Cl. 
And therefore I arrest thee of High-Treason.  Pl. 
Arrest me! ha! Shall it be thus King Henry?  Hen. 
It shall not be, I promised him safe Conduct.  Edw. 
My Lord, we'll be your Bail.  Pl. 
See, I have Bail.  
Lord Clifford, in whose name do you Arrest me?  Old Cl. 
In the King's Name.  Pl. 
Then I'll unfold myself.  
Know hitherto I've been like a dark Cloud,  
Where scorching heat has been engendering Thunder:  
The grumbling and the rolling you have heard,  
But now the deadly bolt shall light among you▪  
I am your King.  Hen. 
Ha!  Pl. 
Yes, I am Your King.  
I'm sprung out of the Royal house of Clarence,  
Whom three usurpers of the house of Lancaster  
Successively have trodden under feet,  
Whilst they have glittered in our Royal Glory,  
Shone like false Diamonds in our royal Robes.  Q. 
Now, Sir, are we convinced we told you truth.  Pl. 
And my next Title is the only Claim;  
Duke Henry, (for I'll call him now no otherwise)  
Duke Henry borrows from his bloody Grand Father  
Henry the Fourth, I've twenty thousand men,  
But with this difference, Henry's Troops were Villains  
Deposers of their lawful sovereign Richard,  
Mine are defenders of their true King Richard,  
I mean myself.  Hen. 
Was ever such Ambitious  
Frenzy as this?  Y. Cl. 
Did not we tell you this?  Ed. 
And we will tell you more, obey your King  
I mean my Royal Father, or our Swords  
Shall turn the Arrest of Treason on yourselves.  Old Cl. 
Surely you think you are among your Beauties,  
Amorous Edward, there your Vigour lies.  Q. 
Let them admire thy boasts, here thou art scorned.  Ed. 
'Tis said when the brave Duke of Suffolk lived,  
Queen Margaret would not contemn a Lover.  
I'm young, and love, but yet I am not stricken  
So blind with beauty, but I can discern  
Both the fair Kingdom, and the fair Queen lie  
Sick of the impotence of a Weak King.  Qu. 
Ill mannered insolence!  Rich. 
Why do you talk  
To this poor wretched Neapolitan?  
She and her Husband are fit for each other;  
He has no heart, and she no heart for him.  
Fortune loathed him as soon as e'er she saw him,  
Nor from his Cradle never would endure him,  
And her she never did think worth her care.  Qu. 
Why! well said ugly Crook-back! spoken like  
Thy hideous horrid self:  
I will not do thee so much good to kill thee.  
Thy Soul cannot be worse than where it is.  Hen. 
He bears about him what is more deformed  
Than humane shape can be, his wickedness.  Pl. 
I've showed my right, and here are my three Sons  
To plead it with their Swords, now I'll produce  
My last and strongest Title to the Crown,  
The sword of the victorious Earl of Warwick.  
Call in the Earl of Warwick.  Enter Warwick. War. 
I am here  Pl. 
Inform the ignorant world who is King of England,  War. 
Whom my sword pleases.  Hen. 
Thou against me Warwick!  
What didst thou never swear Allegiance to me?  War. 
'Cause I adored an idol once in ignorance,  
Must I still do so, now I see my error?  
Know Duke of Lancaster (for you are no more)  
Henry your Grand Father murdered his King  
Richard the second, not content with that,  
He trampled on the rights of the next heirs.  
Your Father warlike Henry, I confess,  
Had in desert what he did want in Title.  
But merit makes no lawful claim to Crowns,  
For if it did, I would be King of England.  
But I will tell you to your face, Duke Henry;  
That you have neither Title nor Desert:  Qu. 
Most impudent of Traitors.  Old Cl. 
Most impudent of Traitors.  Y. Cl. 
Most impudent of Traitors.  War. 
I'll speak truth,  
And value not the fury of you all.  
Your Father Henry was a Wall of steel  
Through which there was no passing to the throne,  
But you are only a soft silken Curtain,  
Which with my hand or breath I'll put aside,  
And seat yourself King Richard in the Throne,  
For it is empty though the Duke be there,  
The Duke is nothing, or such poor thin soft stuff  
The Crown sinks down in him, and is not seen.  Yo. Cl. 
What, have these Traitors conquered us already.  
They talk at this bold rare? Thou Traitor Warwick!—  
Warwick? no!— when thou didst unking thy King  
Thou mad'st thyself a Groom; by the same law,  
Thou tramplest on thy King, a saucy Groom  
May set his dirty foot upon thy jaws,  
And tell thee they were made both of one Clay.  War. 
The duke of Lancaster's no King of mine.  Y. Cl. 
Whence hast thou this? from Lawyers, and from Scribblers?  
Say, the King's Grandfather Murdered his King  
And damned his Soul for it, what's that to thee?  
Say, our posterity should wrong each other,  
What must their Servants cudgel 'em to honesty?  
Oh! But old stories censure the King's Title;  
Are royal Robes made of such rags as Pamphlets?  
Yes, when a beggar feign would put 'em on,  
One that would beg the Kingdom from the people,  
And such a beggar is Plantagenet.  
Oh! but the lawyers like not the King's Title:  
What shall the lawyers be the Kingdom's Oracles,  
And judge their Kings, who speak but as inspired  
By the King's Image stamped upon his Gold?  
Let the King give 'em store of golden Pictures  
And they will give him a substantial title.  
And then the Noblemen must be the Bailiffs  
To execute the sentence of the Coif.  
Damn thy pedantic Treason; thou art as far  
From wit as honour, and that's far enough.  
Who stopps a River's head up, drie's the stream;  
Thou hast divided thyself from thy King,  
The spring of honour, so thou hast no honour.  
But art a heap of dirty pesantry,  
Fit only to manure a brave man's fortune;  
A straying Beast, with the Devil's mark upon thee,  
Rebellion, and I'll send thee to thy owner.  Ed. 
What a fierce talker's this?  War. 
I laugh at him;  
All this loud noise and fury you have heard,  
Is but the crackling of some burning thorns,  
That hedge the Duke, and they will soon be ashes.  Pl. 
No more Duke Henry, will you yield my Crown,  
Or shall we fall upon you?  Hen. 
Must it be so?  
Let us not bloodily Butcher one another;  
But fairly to the field, and there in Battle  
Make an Appeal to Heaven.  Pl. 
With all my heart.  Y. Cl. 
Then royal Henry, fixed on loyal Clifford,  
Stand like a Cedar on a Mountain top  
Securely rooted, and despise all storms.  Hen. 
My cause is sixt on Heaven, for it is just.  War. 
Then sound to Arms.  All. 
To Arms, to Arms, to Arms.—  [Exit   

ACT. II.  An Alarm. Enter Warwick and Soldiers chasing others over the Stage. Enter Plantagent, and Old Clifford fighting.— Old Clifford falls. P 
FArewell, old valiant Clifford, I should now  
Be sorry for thee, were't thou not my Enemy.  [Ex. Old Cl. 
Be sorry for thyself, thou art a Traitor,  
And I for loyalty die honourably.  Enter Young Clifford. Y. Cl. 
Shame and Confusion, all is on the rout.  
My men are fled or killed, and I alone  
Stand like a lofty Mast, showing my head  
Above the Waves, when all the Ship is sunk,  
I cannot find my Father not my King.  Old. Cl. 
Son!  Yo. Cl. 
I heard a voice resembling much  
My Fathers, very weak and faint it seemed,  
As he were far from me, or near to death.  Old Cl. 
Son!  Yo. Cl. 
Ha! again he calls! Oh! there he lies!  
All weltering in his gore, gasping for life.  
Oh! Father! Father! if thou hast breath enough,  
Leave with me but the name of him that wounded thee  
That I may give thee and myself revenge,  
And I'll prefer that glorious Legacy,  
Before the Estate and Honour which thou leav'st me  Ol. Cl. 
Plantagenet gave me my death!— Farewell—  [Dies. Y. Cl. 
Plantagenet gave thee thy death— Plantagenet  
Then gave himself and all his race destruction.  
He kills our old men, and I'll kill his Children.  
Henceforth I will not have to do with pity,  
Tears shall be to me as the dew to fire,  
I will be famous for inhuman cruelty,  
My Father here's me not, he's dead! he's gone.  
Come thou new ruin of Old Clifford's house,  
I'll bear thee on my shoulders as Aeneas  
Did old Anchises, but with this sad difference,  
He bore a living Father, mine is dead,  
And so my burden and my grief is heavier.  He takes his Father on his back, and going out meets the King, Queen, and Soldiers. Q. 
Away, away, Sir, what do you mean to stay?  
All's lost, you have no safety but in flight.  Hen. 
My heart's so heavy that I cannot fly.  Q. 
Ha! who goes there? Clifford thou art, I think.  Yo. Cl. 
I am.  Qu. 
What burden hast thou on thy shoulders.  Yo. Cl. 
I carry vengeance for Plantagenet.  Hen. 
Plantagenet dead?  Yo. Cl. 
A braver honester man,  
My valiant loyal Father.  Hen. 
Clifford dead?  Yo. Cl. 
Killed by Plantagenet.  Qu. 
Take comfort, Clifford.  
We'll straight to London, where we have power enough  
To revenge ourselves and thee, and to assist us.  
The Parliament shall meet and raise the Kingdom.  Yo. Cl. 
For your revenge ralse Kingdoms and for mine,  
I'll raise myself, and I'll have bloody Vegeance,  
I'll kill Plantagenet, and all his Sons  
That when he is dead he may not have a Son.  
To bear him to the grave, as I my Father;  
And so cut off his memory from the Earth,  
Meet I but any Infants of his House,  
Into as many gobbets will I cut 'em  
As wild Medea did the young Absyrtus,  
And I will strave my men that they may eat 'em,  
And so let us about our several business.  [Exit. A Shout of Victory, Enter at one door Warwick, at another Plantagenet, Edward, Richard, Soldiers. Plantagenet embraces Warwick. Pl. 
Let me embrace the greatest man that breathes.  War. 
Pray cease, my Lord, you know this does not please me.  Edw. 
England will learn again to Fight and Conquer,  
A glorious science we have almost lost,  
Under the reign of this tame bookish Henry.  War. 
What is become of the young boasting Clifford?  
Fate as if tender of him, did to day,  
When e'er I met him, thrust a crowd betwixt us.  Pl. 
I met his Father in the field; and there  
I put the brave old man to his last bed.  
The stout old winter Lion, that had long  
Endured the brush of time, fought with that heat,  
As he had been but in the spring of youth.  
Like arras-hanging in a homely house,  
So was his gallant Spirit in his body  Edw. 
Whilst we pursued the horsemen o' the North,  
With too much heat, the King escaped our hands;  
But he has left behind some of his friends,  
I fell upon the gallant Duke of Buckingham,  
And with one fortunate substantial blow,  
I cloven his good steel Helmet, and his Scull,  
And see, his Brains are yet upon my Sword.  Rich. 
To speak the truth, my Brother Edward fought  
To day, as if he had fought for a Mistress.  Ed. 
I must confess, I fought with more dispatch;  
'Cause had the Battle lasted, 'twould have spoiled  
An assignation that I have to night.  Rich. 
Did not I say as much?  Pl. 
Thou, good Son Richard,  
Dost not disturb thy heart with cares of love.  Rich. 
The hill upon my back fences my heart;  
The women love not me, so I hate them.  War. 
We have all cut our names deep on the Pillars  
Of Fame's high Temple, where shall be forever  
Written this glorious Battle at S. Albon.  
Now, my Lord, post away with speed to London,  
For thither I am told the King is Fled,  
And there he will repair this day's wide breaches  
Citizens always love Tame Godly Princes,  
And such as abhor fighting like themselves.  
Then, if you can, enter the Town before 'em,  
And fill it with your Troops; and then tomorrow  
Get very early into the Parliament House,  
And guarded well, openly claim the Crown.  
My Tongue and Sword shall both assert your Title.  
Then let me see, what Peer dare be so bold,  
Or Common so saucy, to oppose it.  Pl. 
Thou Soul of valour, Wisdom, and Nobility,  
I'll take thy Counsel.  War. 
Go then march with speed,  
I'll tarry for a moment to take care  
For any of quality that are dead or wounded.  [Ex. Plantagenet, Richard one way, Warwick another. Edw. 
I well approve this speedy March to London,  
For here to Night I hope to meet my Mistress.  [Ex. Edward, Enter two bearing a Body, Warwick meets 'em. War. 
Whose Body is that?  
'Tis Sir John Grey of Grooby.  War. 
A fierce bigot for the Lancastrian Faction.  
I've heard of him, and whither do you carry him?  2. 
To his fair Widow; she had only news  
He had some wounds, and so came in her Chariot  
To carry him away with her, but all  
Her care is now too late; see here she is.  Enter Lady Grey attended. La. Gr. 
Where is my Husband? I am impatient for him.  
1. We have found him, Madam, in a state too bad  
For you to look on.  L. Gr. 
Oh! he's dead! he's dead!  
2. Help! help! she's falling on him dead as he.  War. 
I never saw so beautiful a Creature.  
1. She is come to herself,  War. 
But I'm so lost,  
That I shall never be myself again.  La. Gr. 
Oh! my dear Husband!  War. 
See! see! she embalmes  
His Body with her precious Tears and Kisses.  
I know not to what place his Soul is fled;  
But I am sure his Body is in Heaven.  
Forms, Ceremonies, Civil Fooleries,  
Infects engendered of corrupt false Wit.  
I will ride o'er you in my way to joy;  
Though this is the first time I ever saw her,  
And she lies drowned in Tears o'er her dead Husband  
Drowned in his blood, shed may be by myself;  
Yet here, and now I'll tell her that I Love;  
And here, and now resolve to make her mine.  
Madam, your pardon that I interrupt you.  La. Gr. 
Who are you, Sir?  War. 
You, Madam, best can tell,  
When I came hither I was Earl of Warwick;  
But you have changed me to I know not what.  La. Gr. 
The Earl of Warwick! Oh! my Lord I beg you,  
Conjure you by the Honour of a Nobleman,  
That you permit a miserable Woman  
To give her Husband's Body decent Burial.  War. 
Madam, with all my heart; and I could wish  
He had been buried when he first saw light,  
And never lived to do Prodigious mischiefs.  La. Gr. 
What wondrous mischiefs dying for his King?  War. 
Oh! he has done more ill, than Frantic Alexander  
When he set fair Persepolis o' Fire,  
Or him that burned the famed Ephesian Temple.  La. Gr. 
Who did all this?  War. 
He, whom Heaven there has punished;  
And did it, Madam, by enjoying you,  
By kindling in your heart love for himself,  
He fired a stately Palace, only fit  
For hearts of mighty Kings, He burned a Temple  
The master piece of Nature, the World's wonder.  La. Gr. 
Is this fit talk to one in my condition?  War. 
I know old Tyrant Custom does command  
You Widows to be stretched on the long rack  
Of twelve months mournful abstinence from love.  
And, which methinks is an immodest fashion,  
You must wear black the colour of the night,  
To put you in remembrance of the pleasure.  
Night for your service pays you no more Wages,  
Yet you in gratitude must wear Night's livery.  
And you must sigh and weep to tell the World  
What skill you have in man, for who e'er weeps  
For loss of that whose value they ne'er knew?  
Fie! what ill woman brought up those ill Customs?  La. Gr. 
What horrid insolence you treat me with?  Enter one running. 1. 
My Lord, the Enemy begins to rally.  War. 
Go fight 'em, for I'm busily employed.  Enter a Second. 2. 
Mount, mount, my Lord, or you'll be taken Prisoner.  War. 
I am a Prisoner, nor can stir from hence;  
Unless this beauty with a smile release me.  La. Gr. 
Grief, Horror, and Confusion put me again  
Into a deadly Fainting.  War. 
I perceive  
Formality the Governess of Women,  
And Custom the great Tyrant of the World  
Are married in the Temple of this beauty.  
Take with you then your pale Companion,  
And pay to it the Tax of some months' tears,  
And lock yourself in solitude and darkness,  
But after that by my renown and fortune,  
By this days victory, by that great power,  
By which I to the King say, be a Subject;  
And to a Subject I say, be a King.  
I swear I shortly will say to myself,  
Warwick, be thou Possessor of this beauty.  
I'll have you, though you hate, and Heaven envy me,  
And the first joy I reap cost me my life.  La. Gr. 
In spite of me I am compelled to speak,  
I swear by the dead body of my Husband,  
By my unspotted fame most sacred to me,  
I rather will choose death than any man,  
But I'll choose Hell ere you.  War. 
Cruelly sworn;  
But yet such Oaths are heriots, which Widows  
To custom always pay, when a life falls.  
The world expects to have 'em pay such sins,  
ere they renew another life in love.  
Then, Madam, take your fallen tenement,  
And pay all customed dues, you have your freedom.  
And for your safety all my guard shall wait you.  La. Gr. 
Though paying rights of burial to my husband  
Be all that I desire to do on Earth,  
ere I will be obliged to you for any thing,  
I'll die upon him and be all his monument.  War. 
Oh Beauteous Monument! all men would die  
To be so buried!— envy will not suffer me  
To let the dead have so much happiness,  
Therefore I'll take my leave.  La. Gr. 
The only favour  
I will receive, or can endure from you.  War. 
Take it, one kindness oft begets another,  
Farewell, most cruel, but most beauteous creature.  La. Gr. 
Farewell most rude and most abhorred of men.  War. [Softly to his men.] 
Guard her safe hence, but do not let her know it,  
Lest she refuse it, and should meet with injury.  [Ex. Scene a Room in London, Table, Lights. Enter Edward pulling in Lady Elinor Butler. L. El. 
Oh! do not tempt me, for I know  
You will be false.  Ed. 
Well but I know I shall not.  L. El. 
Oh! to how many women have you sworn  
As much as you ha' done to me to night?  Ed. 
Oh is there not great difference among Women?  
Some Women are but petty Inns to lodge at,  
And though perhaps rather than want a lodging,  
We would pay all they ask, though most unreasonable:  
But if they would pay me, I would not dwell with 'em;  
But your sweet beauty is my journey's end.  L. El. 
Oh! yes till you begin another journey.  Ed. 
Besides the many thousand Charms about you,  
From which it is impossible to 'scape,  
Your Birth and Quality will not permit me  
To trifle with you as with trifling women,  
I dare not but regard Lady Elinor Butler.  L. El. 
But when you have enjoyed Lady Elianour Butler,  
She'll seem as very a trifle as the rest.  Ed. 
Then what a perjured Villain must I be?  L. El. 
When you are Prince of Wales, perhaps you'll think  
The Prince of Wales is not obliged to keep  
Lord Edward's Oaths, and when I follow you,  
You will cry, Madam, I am Prince of Wales,  
And I must marry for the Nation's good;  
I'm very sorry I am forced to lose you,  
But pardon me, it is the Nation's fault.  
So, Madam, I'm your very humble Servant,  
If I can serve you any way, command you;  
Then instead of being made Princess of Wales  
I sneak away poor cheated Elinor Butler.  Ed. 
Well this is very unkind to make me throw  
So sweet a Night so foolishly away.  
I thought you would have given me a clear draught  
Of Love without the dregs of Oaths and Vows.  L. El. 
Oh! you are too charming not to be beloved,  
And when once loved, not to be loved for ever.  
I know I've not desert to keep you constant;  
And 'tis enough for me that you once loved me,  
To blame you that you will not love me always,  
● as a beggar blamed a Prince, for giving him  
Only one Jewel. No one Woman merit's  
Your Love, so you divide it among all.  
But oh! methinks I feign would have it alle  
And have it always.  Ed. 
So I swear you shall.  
Then come away, for night is stealing from us,  
Weary with holding up her fable Robe,  
To hide two loitering lovers to no purpose.  
Then come away.  L. El. 
Oh swear to me once more.  Ed. 
I'll swear no more, whilst we by foolish Oaths  
Secure delights to come, we lose the present.  
Then come away, for else I shall be called.  
Oh Heaven's! see! the day is broke already.  
The vast and heavy business of a Kingdom  
Heave up the scale of Morn before its time.  
Oh! come away for fear I be undone.  L. El. 
Oh! do not ask for fear I be undone.  [Knocking. Ed. 
Hark! I hear knocking! I am called, I'm ruined.  Enter the waiting Woman. Wo. 
My Lord! here is your Brother my Lord Richard  
Is come to fetch you to the Parliament,  
He says, your Father's going thither already.  Ed. 
Did not I tell you, Love, what you would do?  
Confound my Lord Richard, tell him I'm not here.  Wo. 
He says you are here, and he'll not part with you.  Ed. 
So, we have managed our occasion finely.  
Was this well done of you?  L. El. 
You may forgive me,  
Since I'm almost as sorry as you are.  Ed. 
Then will you mend the fault another time?  L. El. 
I fancy I shall do my weak endeavour.  Rich. within. 
Why, Brother!—  Ed. 
Hark he calls! I must be gone,  
Farewell, my dear, remember what you have promised.  L. El. 
Remember you your Vows of constancy.  [Exit. Rich. within. 
Brother, what do you mean? leave your damned Women,  
For I'm sure 'tis some damned Woman stays you.  
But for my part I'll stay no longer for you.  
For I will not be chidden for your faults,  
My Father, and his Friends shall know how it is.  Ed. 
Thank thee, good natured honest virtuous Brother;  
How proud this Leper is of one sound place?  
Though he has all the vices in the world,  
Yet he insults o'er me, because he is free  
From my one fault, my almost faultless fault.  
He is a Hell at whose foul front appears,  
Ill manners, and ill nature, and ill shape,  
Like a three-headed Dog, that barks at all things  
That dare come near him, specially at beauty;  
But has within a thousand ugly Hags  
His Soul embraces, bloody cruelty,  
Lean envy, and insatiable Ambition.  
And he has this advantage over me,  
His Mistresses are Devils, and so invisible.  
Some time or other I'll descend like Hercules  
Into this Hell, and drag to humane sight  
The Monster that so barks at my delight.  [Ex. Scene the Parliament House, a Throne, Canopy, Seats for the Lords. Enter Plantagenet, George, Richard, Warwick, Clarence, Rutland, Guard all with drawn Swords. War, 
This is the palace of the fearful King,  
And this the Regal Seat; Richard Plantagenet,  
Sit down, and from this hour be King of England.  Pl. 
I think if mighty Warwick said, be Emperor  
Of the whole world, the Genii of all Kingdoms  
Would vanish and give place to his great spirit.  
Assisted then by thee, I here sit down,  [Sits in the Throne 
And take possession of my Royal Right.  War. 
I plant you here, now Root you up who dares.  Enter Edward, Pl. 
Where's my Son Edward? Son? why loiter you?  War. 
Sir, why do you neglect your Father thus?  Ed. 
Reproved by Warwick? what does Warwick cheat us?  [Aside. 
Give us a Crown to cheat us of our liberty?  
Hire us to be his slaves? so soon so arrogant?  
This humour I must quell, I cannot bear it.  Pl. 
Sons, I here take possession of my right,  
And will be Crowned or killed:— if I should fall,  
Son Edward, claim the Crown, if you fall with me,  
Then, George, the Crown is thine, if both you die,  
Then, Richard, thou art King.  War. 
Three goodly Pillars,  Pl. 
And last in birth but not in my Affection.  
Here is my little pretty darling Rutland,  
Look to him, Guard, for if his brothers Perish,  
He is your King; fear not my pretty Boy.  
We'll be too hard for wretched timorous Henry.  Rut. 
Sir, let him come, and all his Soldiers with him.  
If you will beat his Soldiers, I'll beat him.  Pl. 
Well said my boy; and hark; I think he comes.  Enter King Henry in his Robes, his Crown on his head, the Sword born before him, Attended by Clifford, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Exeter, in their Robes. Hen. 
My Lords, look where the sturdy Rebel sits.  War. 
Look where your King is seated, Duke of Lancaster,  
What say you? will you resign in peace the Crown  
To him whose right it is, Richard Plantagenet?  
Or shall we force it from you by our Swords?  Rich. 
Let's tear the Crown from the Usurpers head.  Ed. 
Sound but the Trumpets and the King will fly.  Pl. 
Peace, Sons.  Hen 
Peace all of you, and hear your King.  
Rebels, I fear all danger less than you do,  
For I am better armed with innocence.  
But I confess I do fear Civil War;  
Not for my own, but for my people's sake,  
I am afraid to shed the blood of English men,  
But you indeed are bold in cruelty.  
By which (oh Heaven!) judge whose is the Child  
His who desires to have it cut in pieces,  
Or mine, who strive in tenderness to save it.  
For my own part I fear no power, but Heaven,  
Rebels may be successful for a time,  
And overturn all order, right, and justice,  
But Heaven does not let the world stand long  
In that unnatural uneasy posture,  
But soon put's all things in their proper places.  Pl. 
Thy own mouth, Henry, has pronounced thy doom.  
Successful Murder, and Rebellion,  
Swelled for two Generations of thy race  
Over all right, and all that durst oppose 'em;  
But Heaven in thee has dried up the black stream,  
And made it such a Brook all trample over it.  Hen. 
I've oft been told by thee, my Grandfather  
Deposed his King.  Pl. 
And I did tell thee truth.  Hen. 
Cannot a King adopt an Heir?  Pl. 
What then?  Hen. 
Did not King Richard to my Grandfather  
Resign the Crown in open Parliament?  Pl. 
Did not thy Grandfather compel him to it  
By force of Arms? and then the Parliament,  
To their eternal shame, if not Damnation,  
Flattered the wicked fortunate Usurper.  War. 
But say, the King had done it unconstrained,  
He could not give away another's right.  
Henry usurped the right of the next Heirs.  Hen. 
My Conscience tells me that my Title is weak.  Cl. 
How, Sir, will you revolt from your own self?  
Who will stand by you then?  War. 
Clifford, thou diest,  
If thou permit'st not Henry to resign.  Cl. 
Let Henry give his Title to the Crown,  
He shall not give my Title to revenge.  
May the ground gape and swallow me alive,  
When e'er I kneel to him who killed my Father.  War. 
Ho! there within.—  Cl. 
I am prepared for you.  War. stamps, and enter Soldiers of his side. Cl. does the same and enter Soldiers on his side; as they are going to fight, King Henry interposes. Hen. 
Hold! hold! my Lords: Oh! let not Blood be shed;  
Let us not make a Shambles of this place.  
Pray hear me all; I find my Title's weak,  
And to defend it were to fight with Justice,  
Besides, there lies already on my head  
The Blood of Richard, murdered by my Grandfather,  
And I'd be loath to add my people's Blood;  
For saving which, hear this proposal from me,  
I have been King these eight and thirty years,  
And many Interests must grow to mine  
That you can never tear me from the Throne,  
But you will set a thousand Veins a bleeding,  
Then let me reign in quiet all my life,  
And when I'm dead, Plantagenet be King  Pl. 
I approve of it, and on that condition  Kneels and kisses Hen's hand. 
I swear to be King Henry's faithful Vassal.  Hen. 
And not to seek the Throne by Arms or Treason?  Pl. 
Never whilst King Henry lives.  Hen. 
Then I entail  
The Crown to thee and to thy Heirs for ever.  Cl. 
The Devil to him, and to his Heirs for ever.  
What have you done?  War. 
Good to himself and England.  Cl. 
Wrong to his Son, his Subjects, and himself.  Ex. 
Why sigh you, Sir?  [King Hen. sighs. Hen. 
For my poor Son I've wronged.  War. 
You have not wronged him, you have wholly freed him  
From all the Vengeance due to Usurpation.  Cl. 
Oh! Henry, if thy Father's Soul did see  
Thy baseness, it would torture him in Heaven.  
Plantagenet, when that great Monarch lived,  
Thou durst have sooner let into thy Soul  
Ten thousand Devils than a Traitorous Thought:  
Farewell degenerate faint-hearted King,  
May'st thou be beat in War, and scorned in Peace.  [Exit. Pl. 
Sons, head the Troops before the Palace Gate,  
Lest furious Clifford should do some rash thing.  [Ex. Ed. and Rich. and George. Enter the Queen and Prince. Pl. 
Here comes the Queen.  Hen. 
And with her my poor Son.  War. 
She appears big with Thunder and with Lightning:  
Expect a Tempest quickly, Sir, but slight it.  Qu. 
Are the news true? can it be possible  
That you have disinherited your Son?  
And given your Crown to Traitorous Plantagenet?  Hen. 
The Crown is his, I have no Title to it,  
But what is founded on Rebellion,  
The murder of a King and usurpation.  Qu. 
Then hast thou not the spirit of a King,  
Nor of a Father, timorous mean Wretch,  
To let a Crew of Rebels hector thee  
Out of a Crown, nay out of thy own Son?  
For thou must think thou hast no Title to him,  
Or thou'dst not disinherit him unnaturally.  Hen. 
My Love, I do not disinherit him;  
For what I give away is not his right;  
And if I should entail another's right on him,  
I should entail Heaven's Vengeance on his head.  Qu. 
Who says the Crown's not yours?  Hen. 
I am convinced  
By powerful Arguments.  Qu. 
By Pikes and Swords.  
Had I been here when thou mad'st this Agreement,  
The Soldiers should have tossed me on their Pikes,  
ere I'd have stooped to such unnatural bafeness.  
Oh! how came thee and I in Marriage joined!  
For I am Fire, thou art weak floating Water,  
Driven by the breath of Rebels any way.  
Would I had died a Maid, and never seen thee;  
At least had never born thee such a Son.  
Oh! my sweet Son, thou art no more a Prince,  
Because thy Father is no more a King.  
He has undone himself, and thee, and all of us.  Pr. 
I am a Prince, and I will be a King.  
Father, you cannot disinherit me;  
You may bestow your Kingdom whilst you live;  
But when you are dead it is not yours, but mine.  Qu. 
My Son, he shall not disinherit thee.  
I have men here to guard me from these Rebels,  
And Troops elsewhere to conquer 'em, and punish 'em.  
And I will make my Son a Glorious Prince;  
Whilst thou, tame Prince, shalt be a slave to Traitors:  
Made to assist in conquering thyself,  
And then in digging thy own Sepulchre;  
For Rebels will not do their work by halves.  
Though thou art but the shadow of a King,  
Rebels will tremble at a Royal Shadow,  
And they'll be forced to kill thee, if 'tis possible,  
To make thee a more dead thing than thou art.  Hen. 
Oh! my dear Love, talk not so harshly to me.  Qu. 
I will be harsher in my deeds than words.  
For from this moment I divorce myself  
For ever from thy Bed, thou art no King,  
And thou shalt have no Sons of me to ruin;  
I scorn to be the Mother of a Slave.  [Ex. Qu. and Pr. Hen. 
Poor Queen, how love and pity for my Son  
Set her a-raging, as they set me grieving?  War. 
Add her ambition to her love and pity,  
For that has no small share in her disturbance.  Pl. 
I know she's raising Forces in the North,  
My Lord of Warwick, do you keep the King,  
And stay to raise what Force you can in London,  
whilst I will to the North, and so between us  
we'll wall her in, and keep that fire from spreading.  Hen. 
Pray, my Lords, do, I will assist you both  
Against myself, I'll do to others right,  
Though on myself I sure destruction bring,  
ere I'll be wicked, I will be no King.  [Ex. omnes.  

ACT. III.  
Scene a Castle.  Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard. Pl. 
HOW has this Woman charmed these men together,  
No less than twenty thousand? a vast Army!  
All my Troops here will scarcely make five thousand,  
Then she is gotten between me and London;  
That I can no way join the Earl of Warwick,  
Nor can he possibly come time enough  
To my assistance; I am in a straight.  Ed. 
I think not, Sir, brave men are never in a straight  
When they have Arms and Liberty to sight.  Pl. 
I should slight odds, if the Enemy were French,  
But now our present Enemies are English,  
Made of the same brave stuff as we ourselves.  Rich. 
But such brave stuff as we have soundly beaten,  
And such as are conducted by a Woman.  
And men ne'er think of fighting under Petticoats.  Pl. 
I've sent your Brother George to raise some Troops,  
I hoped he might have been with me ere now;  
But I must take my fortune now, the Enemy  
Approaches us— bring in my dear Boy Rutland.  Enter Rutland, and a Priest his Tutor. 
My Darling, let me kiss thee e'er I go,  
I know not if I 'ere shall see thee more;  
If I should fall under the numerous Enemy,  
I leave thee to the care of thy three Brothers,  
All valiant men, and some of 'em I hope  
Will be great men, be Kings; I charge 'em all  
On my last blessing to take care of thee,  
My precious Darling, as of their own Souls.  Rut. 
Why do you talk thus, Sir? you make me weep,  
If you must die, I hope I shall die with you;  
I had rather die with you than live a King.  Pl. 
Sweet Boy, farewell my Soul;— here take the Boy  
And guard him safely in the strong dark Vault,  
And if things prove worse than I hope they will,  
Convey him safely to our next Garrison,  
And give his Brother's notice of his flight.  [Ex. Pl. Ed. Rich, one way, another Rutl. with a Guard. An Alarm, shouts of Victory, the Scene continues. Enter Clifford and his Soldiers. Cl. 
Pursue, pursue, pursue, and give no quarter,  
I charge you do not spare Man, Woman, or Child.  [Ex. An Alarm, Enter Rutland. Rut. 
Oh! whither shall I fly? how shall I escape?  
Ah! Clifford comes! and no one's here to guard me.  Cl. 
Ha! have I found one of Plantagenet's Brats?  Rut. 
Oh! now I shall be murdered! hold, my Lord,  
Hear me but speak one word before I die.  Cl. 
What canst thou say, fond Boy, that's worth my hearing?  Rut. 
I'd only beg you to regard yourself;  
You are a valiant man, I am a Boy;  
Stain not your fame by killing a poor Boy,  
I would not for your own sake you should do it;  
For I love gallant men, and I love you;  
Though you are my Enemy, because you are gallant.  Cl. 
Away you insinuating, flattering boy,  
Who taught you this Hypocrisy? your Priest?  
Give o'er, give o'er! for were there in thy Voice  
Celestial Harmony, my Father's Blood  
Has stopped the passage where the sound should enter.  Rut. 
I did not shed his Blood.  Cl. 
Thy Father did.  Rut. 
Then sight my Father, that will get you honour.  Cl. 
Should I kill thee, thy Father, all thy Brothers,  
Nay should I dig up thy Fore-father's Graves,  
And hang their rotten Cousin's up in Chains,  
My rage would not be quenched.  Rut. 
That's very strange;  
Why should your fury burn against the innocent?  Cl. 
I kill thee out of hatred to thy kind,  
As I would do a Toad, or a young Serpent.  Rut. 
Hear me but one word more, dear, brave, Lord Clifford;  
You have a Son, for his sake pity me,  
Lest as you kill me for my Father's faults,  
Just Heaven should destroy your Son for yours,  
And he be miserably killed as I am.  
Then, Oh! for your Son's sake give me my life,  
And for my Father's faults keep me in Prison,  
And kill me whensoever I offend you.  Cl. 
Thou wilt be an offence to me in living.  
Whilst any of thy cursed Father's race  
Live upon Earth, I live on Earth?— then die—  Rut. 
Oh! shall I have no pity at your hands?  Cl. 
Such pity as my Rapier's point affords!  [Wounds him. Rut. 
May'st thou ne'er get more same than by this deed;  
Oh my poor Father! Oh! my death will kill him.  [Dies. Cl. 
Ho! take the body up, and carry it after me,  
I'll make a present of it to his Father.  [Exit. Enter Plantagenet. Pl. 
All's lost, my men by numbers are devoured,  
Or fly like Ships before the stormy wind.  
My Sons have bravely fought, but all in vain,  
They only swim like Swans against the Tide,  
And are born down by over-matching Waves,  
And I am very faint and cannot fly;  
But had I strength, I'm on all sides enclosed,  
The Sands are numbered that make up my life,  
See! the bloody Clifford comes! then here I fall!  Enter Clifford and Soldiers. Cl. 
Ha! have I found thee proud Plantagenet.  
What tumbled Phaethon from thy shining Chariot,  
And made an Evening at thy highest Noon?  
Oh Father! from the joys above descend,  
And share with me the pleasure of Revenge,  
Or else by high revenge I'll climb to thee.  Pl. 
Thou bloody raging Clifford, do thy worst;  
I'd scorn to ask thee mercy hadst thou any,  
But thou hast none, then come with all thy Multitudes.  Cl. 
So Cowards sight when they can fly no farther,  
So Pigeons peck the Falcon's piercing Talons,  
So desperate Thiefs breathe curses at the Officers.  Pl. 
Hast thou the impudence to charge a Prince  
With cowardice, who made thee basely fly?  
Call to thy memory S. Alban Battel.  Cl. 
I do, than didst thou kill my brave old Father.  Pl. 
And now would thee, wert thou not backed with multitudes.  Cl. 
I will try that; stand of, and do not touch him,  
Unless I fall; then cut him all to pieces.  
I will not lose revenge; yet I will give him  
So much revenge to kill me if he can.  Pl. 
I thank thee for the kindness, 'tis a great one.  They Fight, Plantagenet is disarmed and thrown. Cl. 
Now wilt thou yield that I have fairly conquered thee?  As Cl. is lifting up his arm to kill him, Enter the Queen. Q. 
Hold valiant Clifford! hold!— I would prolong  
The Traitor's life to scorn him, trample on him:  
Are you the man that would be King of England?  
Are you the man that revealed in the Parliament?  
Sat in your Sovereign's Throne, and did believe  
Your breath could blow his Crown from off his head?  
Where are your Mess o'Sons to back you now?  
Your wanton Edward, and your lusty George,  
Your ugly valiant Dick, that crookback Prodigy?  
And with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?  Pl. 
My heart misgives me, where is he indeed?  Qu. 
Ask Clifford.  Pl. 
Oh! thou hast not butchered, Clifford,  
The innocent Boy?  Cl. 
On that young tender morsel  
My greedy vengeance stayed a while it's stomach,  
Till it could dine on thee, and all thy Sons.  Qu. 
See! I have stained a Napkin in the blood,  
That valiant Clifford with his Rapier's point  
Made issue from the bosom of thy darling,  
And bring it thee to wipe away thy tears.  Pl. 
She-wolf of France! or rather cruel Tygress,  
For woman thou art none; women are soft,  
Gentle and pitiful, but thou art cruel,  
Oh! ten times more than an Hyrcanian Tygress.  
There is a Boy that thinks thou art his Mother;  
But surely thou didst never bear a Child,  
For thou wouldst something know a Parent's love,  
And have some natural touch of pity in thee,  
And not have drained the life-blood of a Child  
To bid his Father wipe his eyes withal.  Qu. 
I therefore did it to increase thy sorrow:  
I know a Parent's love, and thy fond love,  
And all the mysteries of thy haughty heart;  
I knew that thou wouldst Barricado it  
Against the losses of a Crown and Life,  
With Iron-barrs of stubborness and pride,  
But oh! this blood like Oil will sink into it;  
These Crimson threads will lead tormenting grief  
Into the inmost lodgings of thy Soul,  
And lest this Napkin be too soft a thing  
I have within an Engine that shall squeeze  
Thy soul into thy eyes. Bring Rutland's Body.  
Now thou hast drunk the liquor, take the cup.  Enter some with dead Rutland. Pl. 
Oh! my sweet Boy!  Qu. 
Ah! this is Music to me!  
This is the part thou mean'st I should have played,  
If thy accursed Treasons had succeeded.  
But that my Tragedy must have been deeper,  
And bloodier far; thou mean'st I should have wept  
For a lost Kingdom, Husband, and a Son.  Pl. 
Yes, and I do not doubt but my three Sons,  
Heaven's vengeance, and the curses of all England  
Shortly will make thee weep for loss of all 'em.  Qu. 
I'll spoil thy prophesying; give me a sword.  Cl. 
I'll pierce him first, there's for my Father's blood.  Qu. 
There for the horrid ills thou threatnest to me.  Cl. 
There for the ills he brought upon the Kingdom,  Pl. 
Open thy gate of mercy gracious Heaven!—.  (Dies. Qu. 
Now take his head once filled with lofty thoughts,  
And set it on a lofty pinnacle.—  [Ex. Scene the Field. Enter Edward. Ed. 
No tidings of my Father? I am troubled!  Enter Richard. Ric. 
Brother, I've news!  Ed. 
What of our valiant Father?  Ric. 
Oh no! I cannot hear what is become of him.  Ed. 
What are your news then?  Ric. 
They are not very good;  
A Messenger is come from the Earl of Warwick,  
Who tell's us he is marching to our aid,  
But leaving a strong party with Lord Cobham,  
To guard the King, and all the Southern parts,  
They chanced to meet with some of the Queen's Troops.  
And whether the King's Coldness numbed his keepers,  
Or whether terror of the Warlike Queen,  
Whose armies and success each hour increase  
Or of the inexorable cruel Clifford,  
It is not known, but my Lord Cobham's men  
Looked on the shining Valour of the Enemy,  
Like sleepy Owls on day, and fell beneath it.  
That they were all destroyed, and Henry fled,  
With the Victorious Troops to join the Queen;  
That the Earl of Warwick now wants strength to fight her.  Ed. 
This is ill news indeed! what shall we do?  Ric. 
He desires you to haste away with speed,  
To meet ten thousand men marching from Wales,  
Raised by your interest there to whom he sent  
To join his Troops if possible to morrow.  
Which they may do, if you will hasten 'em.  Ed. 
They shall not want for that, I'll go this instant.  Ric. 
Pray do not fail, for all our Lives, and Fortunes  
Are set on this one cast.  Ed. 
I'll spur away.  
Which way go you?  Ric. 
I'll to the Earl of Warwick.  [Exit. Ed. 
My Horse, my Horse, I must ride for a Kingdom.  Enter Lady Elinor Butler in a riding dress. La. El. 
My Lord!  Ed. 
My Love!— or a fair Vision! if a Vision  
Tell me, lest I embrace thee into a Dew.  La. El. 
Yes, I am that fond she who gave Lord Edward  
The loveliest, bravest, but the most inconstant  
Of all mankind my hand and heart for ever.  Ed. 
Then I am that fond he, will lose a Kingdom  
Rather than one hours' pleasure with my Love,  
And so farewell a Kingdom for an hour.  La. El. 
I heard you were surrounded by the Queen's  
Numerous Troops, and in exceeding danger;  
And I could have no quiet, till I came  
And shared your destiny what e'er it was.  Ed. 
Oh! it was kindly charitably done,  
To speak the truth, mine is a scurvy destiny,  
The Enemy is in my Father's Castle,  
And I've no Beds of Down, on Golden Bedsteads  
Under plumed Canopies, t'embrace my Love in;  
My Destiny will be to lie to night  
On some Straw-bed, under some low thatched Roof,  
And thou shalt share it; what if the chill wind  
Blow on us? it will make us lie the closer;  
Or what if we should lie on the cold Earth?  
It was our Grandsire Adam's Bridal Bed,  
'Twas there he gave the start to all mankind.  La. El. 
Fie, Fie, such thoughts as these at such a time?  
When you have a Life and Kingdom to look after.  Ed. 
A thousand Lives and Kingdoms are in thee,  
Whilst the Enemies tall fortune stalks about  
In darkness, like a blinded Polyphem;  
We will creep under it into a Cottage  
Of some of my own faithful Tenants here,  
And safely steal delight, like cunning Mariners,  
Pilfering the hold out of the reach of shot.  La. El. 
Have you a mind then to be killed or taken?  
The Woods are all full of the Enemy.  Ed. 
Should all the Trees turn men, and the Grass Pikes,  
I will not stir from hence, till I've enjoyed thee.  
My crooked Brother Richard like a Hook  
Pulled me away from thee the other night,  
For which I'll lay a double Tax on this.  La. El. 
Though I am but your Wife in hopes and promises,  
So great an Empire have you over me,  
My heart would not refuse you any Tax,  
Did not yourself run danger in the gathering.  Ed. 
There is no danger, every Cottager  
In all these parts will hang e'er he'll betray me;  
Then let the loss of the last opportunity  
Make us so wise, to use this whilst we have it.  La. El. 
Pray do not ask me.  Ed. 
Pray do not deny me.  La. El. 
You will be taken.  Ed. 
No, I'll warrant you.  La. El. 
But if you should?  Ed. 
No matter if Thiefs come,  
When we have put our Money out to use.  La. El. 
You are a strange man.  Ed. 
And you are a sweet woman.  
Come, come away.  La. El. 
Well now, if mischief happen  
Do not blame me.  Ed. 
There can no mischief happen,  
Like losing this most blessed opportunity,  
Then come along,— along—  La. El. 
Oh! that I could not.  Ed. 
Away, away, I say.  La. El. 
Well— since I must—  [Ex. Enter Soldiers dragging Countrymen. Scene a Cottage. 1 Soul. 
Where is your Money, Rogues? confess, you Rogues.  1 Coun. 
Indeed, Sir, I am a very poor man,  
I get my living by my labour, Sir,  
And I have nothing but from hand to mouth.  1 Soul. 
You lie, you Rogue, you lie, I know the tricks  
Of all you Rogues; when e'er your King wants Money,  
Than you are poor, you cannot pay your Taxes;  
But if the Swords of Rebels plow the Nation  
Then you have Bags, and you can bring 'em out  
Like Bags of Seed, and sow 'em all for Crops  
To maintain Rogues that fight against your King;  
Nay for that use can pawn your Pots and Kettles,  
But now for us you cannot find a Farthing.  2 Coun. 
Indeed, Sir, you should have it, if I had it,  
With all my heart.  2 Soul. 
You lie, you Rogue, you lie.  
I know this Rogue, he is one of the damned Rebels,  
Plantagenet's chief Tenants, a rich Fellow;  
You have no Money for the King's Soldiers,  
But you had Money to fit out your Son  
A Trooper, Sirrah, to fight for Rebellion.  3 Soul. 
Oh Rogue!  2 Soul. 
I knew his Son, and killed the Dog.  2. Co. 
Oh! wretched me! he was my only Son.  1. So. 
Come take the Rogue and hang him on that tree,  
Unless he presently confess his Money.  2. Cou. 
Oh! Sir, I will confess! I will confess.  3. Sou. 
Then you have money, Sirrah?  2. Coun. 
Yes, a little.  1 Sou. 
A little! Oh! you Rogue! just now you had none.  
You have a little too?  1 Coun. 
Yes, Sir, a little.  2 So. 
And where's your little Money? quickly! quickly!  2 Cou. 
Mine is buried here, under my Hearth.  1 So. 
Come dig and find it.  2 Co. 
Oh! undone!  1 Soul. 
Digg, Digg.  [2 Countryman digs. 2 Soul. 
Where is your Money, Sirrah?  1 Cou. 
In my Cow-house  
Under the Dung.  2 Soul. 
Go, Sirrah! go and fetch it.  [Exit. 1 Countryman. 2 Cou. 
Here's all my money! Sir.  2 Soul. 
Here all, you Rogue?  
Sirrah! you lie! you have ten times as much.  
Do not I know you a fat Bacon Rogue,  
That have been smoking in Plantagenet's Chimney,  
These forty years? Sirrah! I know your purse  
Cut's a foot thick, of Reechy golden fat.  2 Cou. 
Indeed here's every penny, that I have.  1 So. 
Do you think, Sirrah, we'll be choosed o''is fashion?  
We have hanged half the people in your Country,  
For offering to put such tricks upon us;  
And therefore have a care.  2 Coun. 
Oh! I'll confess!  
I'm an old man, and my only Son is killed.  
And now I care not what becomes o' me,  
I'll show you all I have; there it lies buried  
Uuder yond Oak.  1 Soul. 
Go, Sirrah, go and fetch it.  Enter the first Countryman. 1. Cou. 
Here's all I have been getting forty years.  
Pray spare me a little for my two poor Daughters.  1. So. 
How has the Daughters? we shall have more sport.  All 3. So. 
Hay! for the Daughters! Hay for the Daughters.  [Ex. 1. Co. 
Ah! my poor Daughters!  [Ex. Enter the Soldiers chasing two Country Girls, who cry, help! help! their Father runs after 'em weeping: they all rnn over the Stage. After cries within. Enter the Soldiers with Money bags, dragging the Countrymen. Scene continueth. 2. Soul. 
So now you stognes, how do you like Rebellion?  
You were a Couple of seditious Rogues,  
That used at Alehouses to pay for all  
That railed against the King, and Government.  
Now had not you better have Ploughed, and Carted,  
And paid your Taxes honestly and quietly,  
Then have your Money seized, your Daughters ravished,  
Your Sons knocked o' the head, and yourselves hanged,  
As you shall be?  1 Coun. 
Oh! Sir! I hope not so,  
Now you have promised us.  1 Soul. 
You impudent Dogs,  
Did not you swear Allegiance to your King?  
Yet break your Oaths to him? and do you expect,  
We should keep Verbal promises with you?  2. Soul. 
This Country belongs, Sirrah, to your Landlord;  
And we have orders to take all the Money,  
Burn all the Houses, and hang all the people.  
We have obeyed our orders yet, and will.  The Scene is drawn, and there appears Houses and Towns burning, Men and Women hanged upon Trees, and Children on the tops of Pikes. 1 Coun. 
Oh Heaven! have mercy on us! have mercy on us!  2 Coun. 
Oh Heaven! have mercy on us! have mercy on us!  1 Soul. 
Now Rogues, how do you like Rebellion?  2. Soul. 
Come hang 'em whilst there is a Tree to spare,  
They are almost all bespoke.  [Drumb beats. Enter a Scout. Scout. 
To Arms, to Arms, Warwick is coming.  All 3. 
Warwick! Arm, Arm, Arm.  [Ex. Enter Richard, Warwick, Soldiers. Ric. 
Oh horrid spectacle! See here, my Lord!  War. 
The Queen is planting in your Father's Lands  
An Orchard for the Devil.  Ric. 
I will dung this Orchard  
With the blood of those that planted it,  
I have a Spirit in this crooked Trunk  
Stands like a keeper in a hollow Tree,  
Ready with bended bow to shoot fat Deer,  
And down goes thou, thy Henry, all thy Race.  
I'll not leave killing, till I've built my Father  
A monument of Bones and Sculls of Enemies  
That shall overlook th' Egyptian Pyramids.  
Oh that my Brother Edward now were come!  War. 
Till his Troops come we cannot fight the Enemy,  
For they are above thirty thousand strong,  
And we scarce twelve.  Enter Edward, a Woman. Ric. 
What do I see! I think  
I see him there! pray look, my Lord, and tell me.  
Now I am sure 'tis he! for there's a Woman:  
Oh! we are ruined! for I will be damned,  
If he has not been with her all this Night.  War. 
He durst not do it, durst not serve me so.  Ed. 
I see my Brother and my Lord of Warwick,  
Retire.  [Ex. Wom. War. 
My Lord.  Ed. 
My Lord of Warwick.  War. 
Yes my Lord;  
Where are your men?  Ed. 
My Lord, I must confess,  
I've been to night a happy, but great sinner.  
Starting to gallop for the Crown, my destiny  
Flung in my way brighter temptations,  
Than were all Atalanta's Golden Balls,  
That had it cost a Kingdom and my life,  
I could not but have stooped to take 'em up.  Ric. 
'Tis well, must all the glory we have dived for  
In Seas of blood, be melted in a kiss,  
And swallowed down like Cleopatra's pearl  
In one sweet draught?  War. 
So you have served me well.  Ric. 
And do you thus revenge our Father's blood?  War. 
But what revenge shall I have for the ruin,  
That I am like to suffer in your service?  Ed. 
Fear not.  War. 
I do not fear, I know which way  
I can repair myself; in Henry's service  
I can have greatness with less pains, and dangr,  
Than I must take in yours to be undone.  Ed. 
You will not leave me?  War. 
You first left yourself,  
And left me too.  Ed. 
I beg your pardon for it,  
Who, now my Fathers murdered, am your King.  War. 
You are my King, but King of my own making,  
And I, like Heaven, repent I've made a Creature '  
Who for the Apple of a rolling Eye,  
Will lose a World: But I'll secure my share of it.  
I will go make Henry a King again,  
And tumble you again into a subject.  Ed. 
You will not sure, my Lord!  War. 
I swear I will.  Ed. 
Oh but you cannot do it.  War. 
I'll try that.  Ed. 
You can at most but make Henry a Tyrant,  
For I am lawful King.  War. 
Oh! I'll give Henry  
My Sword, and do you keep your lawfulness,  
Then try which of you will be King of England.  
I ne'er found Conscience or in Priest, or Layman  
So firm at anchor, but a golden Axe  
Would cut the Cable, or success could weigh it,  
And set the Conscience swimming with the Tide.  Ric. 
Oh! I could tear my flesh! must we be ruined  
For a fair Toy?— but I will not be ruined.  
For I will seek the Kingdom for myself.  Ed. 
Brother, 'tis well.  Rich. 
Brother, it shall be ill,  
Exceeding ill with you, and very quickly.  Ed. 
Hold! I command you both hear me one word.  
Know I have only made a Trial of you,  
For I have brought the Troops that you desired,  
I marched 'em hither with such expedition,  
Their front encountered here the front of day.  
Nay more, I've brought my Brother and his Troops,  
Both Armies are not half a mile from hence;  
And here my Brother is: Brother, come hither.  Enter George. Geo. 
I heard of our great Fathers sad misfortunes  
And came to his revenge with all the speed  
A hungry wretch would do to a great feast,  
Where there were many guests, and he far off.  Ed. 
Now my good faithful Friends, what think you both?  
Now, Warwick, will you make Henry a King?  
And, Brother, will you make yourself a King?  
I was informed of what I have discovered  
That you, good Brother, sought to be a King;  
And Warwick to command him, who is King;  
And him you cannot Govern, you will ruin.  
Henry is governed by the Queen and Clifford  
And so because there is no room for Rule,  
You fight for us to make us all your Vassals.  War. 
Who durst say this of me?  Ric. 
And what bold Villain  
Durst give you such a Character of me?  Ed. 
Oh! you are angry, I'm informed the truth.  
If they be Villains, who durst tell me this,  
Then what are you, who durst to my own face  
Threaten to do all this?  War. 
It was all passion.  Ric. 
Nothing but passion.  Ed. 
Brother, you are wronged,  
Or in cold blood you are as bad as this;  
You act the undermining Politician,  
A King is a strong Tower on a high Rock,  
And it is dangerous to storm him openly;  
So at a mighty distance they break ground  
And cast up earth, that is by subtle tricks  
They raise the dirty crowed, and behind them  
They lie secure from Royal battery.  
There if they find any unguarded place,  
About the King, they use it most unmercifully.  
My heart to beauty always lies too open,  
And that infirmity thou givest no quarter;  
Though thou who censurest me, because sometimes,  
I shed some vacant hours among fair Women,  
Wouldst shed the blood, or of thy Friend or King,  
Or if thy Father, were he now alive,  
To gain a Crown, for there is thy chief Lust.  Ric. 
That is a Cruel censure.  Ed. 
But a true one,  
Who stabs my Name, would stab my Person too,  
Did not the Hangman's Axe lie in his way,  
And no man cares to stumble upon that.  War. 
Well, Sir, I have so long gone clad in Steel,  
I have forgot to kneel; but yet my Spirit,  
More stubborn than my sinews, bends to you,  
And begs your pardon for my too rash passion,  
For 'twas no more, and there appeared occasion;  
Though you it seems kindled the fire o' purpose  
To show us by the light of it our faults.  Ed. 
Nay, I will own after the days Fatigues,  
I fell into an ambuscade of beauty,  
Where ignorant of what befell my Father,  
And deep in Love, I lay some hours last night;  
And which of you would not have done the same?  War. 
All of us would, and, Sir, I humbly beg you  
Think my wild passion was the Woman in me,  
And I've enjoyed my Woman, as you yours.  Ed. 
My Lord, I know you would enjoy your Woman,  
I mean your Mistress, for you have a Mistress,  
And you, who threatened to revolt from me;  
Because some moments, which were due to business,  
I gave away to Beauty, and to Love,  
Had almost at S. Alban given away  
Our victory, to a Woman that abhorred you.  War. 
Ha!  Ed. 
Yes, my Lord, I was informed the story.  
You wooed her, over her dead Husband's Body,  
Till you were almost taken by the Enemy.  
I do not know her Name, I never pry  
Into your pleasures, though you censure mine.  
But thou in Chastity, wouldst seem a Scipio.  
Know, that the Woman that thou sawst me with,  
Was thy own Whore.  Ric. 
Ha!  Ed. 
Yes, thy own poor Whore,  
A Peasant's dirty Daughter, whom thou keep'st,  
By whom thou hast a little tawny Bastard,  
Whom I o' purpose brought to show thy Faults,  
In th' eyes, where thou hast often seen thy face.  
This is the Lady.  Enter Woman. Ric. 
Cursed treacherous jade!  [Aside. Ed. 
Now, Sirs, what think you?  Goe 
Pray, Sir, give me leave  
To intercede for 'em, I see shame covers 'em,  
And to great minds no punishment like shame.  Rich. 
Sir, not for mine, but for my Father's sake  
Pardon my Errors and accept my Service,  [Kneels both. 
That I may aid you to revenge his Blood.  War. 
Sir, not for mine, but for the Kingdom's sake,  
Pardon my Errors and accept my service,  
For I by placing you in the English Throne  
Shall place the English Throne above the World.  Ed. 
Rise both of you, I freely pardon you,  
And yet methinks it is unequal usage  
A King should pardon all the faults of Subjects,  
And Subjects pardon nothing in their King;  
When a King's crowned, he is not deified,  
When he puts on the Royal Robes, he does not  
Therefore put of th' Infirmities of man.  
I own I have my faults, and so have you,  
You see I have convinced you, and I did it  
That you might leave your faults and pardon mine;  
Or if you kept your faults to part with me;  
For if my Lord of Warwick does design  
By all his Service only to enslave me,  
I shall lose nothing by his leaving me,  
I can but be a Slave when I am conquered,  
And if my Brother Richard has worse ends—  Ric. 
Oh! Sir, no more, unless you do design  
I should rip up my Breast to show my heart—  War. 
Sir, I'll desire no farther pardon of you,  
Till I have writ it in your Enemy's Blood,  
And pawned my Life and Fortune for my Loyalty.  Ed. 
Our Friendship then is stronger for this breach,  
Now let us bend our talk to our Affairs,  
On the sad tidings of my Father's death,  
Which I but lately heard, I sent Commissioners  
To Henry to demand the Crown of him  
According to the Oath he made in Parliament.  
They are here!— what tidings? Peace, or War?  Enter Commissioners. Com. 
War.  All. 
War.  1 Com. 
Th' Amazon Queen drags Henry to the Battle.  
He fain would keep his Oath, but she'll not suffer him.  Ric. 
I'm glad of it, I would not for a Kingdom  
Peace should chain up that Bloody Mastiff Clifford,  
And keep him safe from the edge of our keen Swords.  War. 
You wrong the Beast to give that name to Clifford,  
An English Mastiff scorns to bite a Child.  Ed. 
Now let us march to meet the Enemy,  
This day decides who shall be King of England,  
The right is ours.  War. 
And Justice will prevail,  
Since Right and Merit both are in the Scale.  [Exeunt.  

ACT. IU.  An Alarm. Enter King Henry, the Queen, Prince, Clifford. Cl. 
DAmn your unlucky Planets, pray, Sir, get you  
Out of the Battle, 'tis impossible  
For men to fight the malice of your Planets.  Qu. 
He tells you true, Sir, Victory will never  
Come where you are.  Hen. 
Victory will not come  
Where Perjury is, you make me break my Oath.  Cl. 
You ought not to have sworn so ill an Oath.  Pr. 
Father, you cannot give away my Right,  
I'll rather lose my life than my Inheritance.  Cl. 
Spoke like a Prince.  Hen. 
Oh! Boy, if thou didst know  
What a Crown was, thou wouldst be more content,  
If I should leave thee no Inheritance,  
But the Example of my virtuous deeds;  
I wish my Father had left me no more.  Cl. 
Oh! damn all this!— come, let us to the Battle.  [Ex. Cl. Qu. Pr. Hen. 
Oh! how this Fellow curses? he accuses  
My Stars for my misfortunes, when his Curses  
Wound all my Men, and poison the Enemy's shot.  
Would I were dead if it were heavens' good will!  [Lies down 
For I am very weary of this World.  
Troublesome folly governs all this World.  
Men live her Vassals, and they die her Martyrs.  
Oh! happy he who in an humble state  
Only attends on Nature's easy business,  
And brings white heirs down to a quiet Grave,  
Falling to earth, as gently as the Snow,  Alarm! Enter a Son bearing his Father. 
Here comes a wretch laden, as he believes,  
With happy Fortune, 'tis with bloody folly,  
And Heaven has carved Fool on his breast with wounds.  Son. 
Who e'er thou art thy life has cost me dear,  
But I'll repay myself out of thy Gold;  
If thou hast any; with the hopes of that  
I took such pains to kill thee. And yet I  
Who plunder thee, may be compelled ere Night,  
To give my life, and plunder to another.  
What's this? Oh! Heaven! I have killed my Father.  
Oh Father pardon me, I did not know thee.  
I was in London pressed to serve the King,  
And thou the Earl of Warwick's servant pressed,  
To fight on th' other side, and so unknown  
We met and Fought; and so unknown I killed thee.  
Oh from thy Bosom I will wash away,  
With tears, the marks of this unnatural Crime.  Hen. 
Oh piteous spectacle! Oh sad confusions!  
What horrid errors, and unnatural ills  
Our horrid and unnatural war produces!  
Poor wretch, didst thou want tears I could supply thee.  Enter a Father bearing his Son. Fath. 
Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me;  
Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold,  
For I have bought it with a hundred blows.  
Ha! let me see, is this my Enemy?  
Ah no, my Son, I've killed my only Son.  Hen. 
Ah woe on woe, Heaven stop these bloody mischiefs,  
Though by the Death of me and all my Race.  Son. 
Oh I have ta'en his life who gave me mine.  Fath. 
Oh! I've killed him for whom I would have died.  Son. 
How will my Mother for my Father's death  
Take on with me?  Fath. 
How will my mourning Wife,  
Accuse me of the slaughter of my Son?  Hen. 
How will my people charge all this on me?  Son. 
I'll bear thee hence and weep; but fight no more.  [Ex. Fath. 
I'll bear thee hence and weep; but kill no more,  
Except myself with sorrow.  [Ex. Hen. 
Oh! poor men!  
Here is a King more woeful than you all;  
For you grieve for yourselves, I for you all.  
Oh you, who when you suffer by your Kings,  
Think to mend all by War, and by Rebellion!  
See here, your sad mistakes! how dreadfully  
You scourge yourselves! learn here the greatest Tyrant  
Is to be chose before the least Rebellion.  
And Oh you Kings, who let your people rule,  
Till they have run themselves into confusion,  
See here your gentleness is greatest Tyranny!  Enter Prince, and Queen. Pr. 
Fly, Father sly, all's lost, your Friends are fled.  Qu. 
The day is lost, and with the day, the Kingdom.  Hen. 
Where's Clifford?  Qu. 
I believe he's dead by this time,  
I met him bleeding with a hundred wounds.  
He all the day rolled like a fiery meteor,  
About the field, and burnt up men like reeds;  
But now in lakes of blood his fire is quenched.  
Post you to Scotland with all haste you can;  
I will to France, to beg that King's assistance.  [Ex. Qu. Pr. Hen. 
I go, but care not what becomes o' me.  [Ex. Enter Clifford wounded. Cl. 
Here burns my Candle out, that lighted Henry.  
Warwick, and all Plantagenets three Sons.  
And all King Henry's malicious Planets  
With much ado to day have killed one man.  
Henry's Stars ruin me and my fall him.  
But his soft sway made way for his destruction:  
Oh! Henry, hadst thou ruled as Kings should do,  
Or as thy Father, or his Father did,  
These Summer slies had never sprung to sting thee,  
Rebels you thrive, and may Rebellion thrive  
That Rogues may cut your throats as you do ours,  
The Air has got into my deadly wounds;  
I am too faint to Fight or Fly; and Mercy,  
I deserve none, and will have none from Rebels,  
I scorn to live by them who deserve death.  
Fate Guards the Scaffold, but she hates the Office,  
And will e'er long let Rebels have their own.  
I'm going! All you of Plantagenets Race—  
My comfort is in death: I killed your Father.  [Fall's Enter Edward, George, Richard, Warwick. Ed. 
Now the great cause is come to its decision:  
Are any Troops gone to pursue the Queen?  
On her tame Henry's fortune does depend  
As the Seas ebb and slow does on the Moon.  War. 
Yes, I took care o' that.  Rich. 
My chief care was,  
To hunt the bloody Clifford, but I could not  
Find him among the living, or the dead.  War. 
I thought you set death's mark so deep upon him,  
Death could not miss him.  Geo. 
Fortune at us all  
Played him to day, but when he was in danger,  
Snatched him away again, as who should say,  
When I have lost this card my game is gone.  Cl. 
Oh!— (Groans)  Ed. 
What Soul is that, that takes her heavy leave?  
See who it is, and be he Friend or Enemy  
Use him with mercy.  Ric. 
No— 'tis bloody Clifford.  Ed. 
Clifford?—  War. 
Clifford?—  Geo. 
Clifford?—  Rich. 
He's dead! oh that he had but life,  
And sense enough to see and hear, and know us!  
That we might scoff him as he did our Father.  Ric. 
Damn him, he counterfeits to shun our taunts.  
Clifford, you know me, ask me mercy, Clifford;  
I am the Son of your dear Friend, Plantagenet,  
I'll pity you, for you did pity Rutland.  Geo. 
No answer? prithee swear as thou wast wont.  War. 
He's dead I'm certain, if he does not swear.  Cl. 
Damnation on you all—  [Dies Ed. 
He Curses! he Curses!  War. 
Then there is hopes of him.  Ed. 
'Twas his last Prayer:  
Off with his Head, and place it on the pinnacle,  
Where the bold bloody Slave durst place our Fathers.  War. 
Now let the Trumpets proclaim Edward King.  A Flourish of Trumpets. Trum. 
Long live Edward the fourth, King of England and France,  
And Lord of Ireland.  (a Shout.) War. 
Now march to London, Sir, I will to France,  
About the Marriage you so much approved of  
With the fair Lady Bona that Queen's Sister.  Ed. 
Oh! thou hast made me much in love with her  
And all Relations have increased my Passion.  War. 
Sir, She's the fairest Creature in the Woorld;  
And in that Marriage you will not only  
Have a fair bedfellow for your delight,  
But that great King your friend for your security.  Ed. 
I cannot marry better; haste away.  War. 
I'm glad of this, I have secured my Mistress.  [Aside. 
Some days ago (as you commanded me)  
I did dispatch an Envoy to King Lewis,  
To make the offer, and he seemed unwilling,  
Not knowing what th' event of War would be.  
But now I with the Sword, that conquered Henry,  
Will go myself Ambassador, and try,  
If a French King dares deny any thing  
To an English conquering Sword.  Ed. 
Oh! thou hast given me  
A Crown, give me this Beauty, and thou art  
A God to me, thy gifts are all divine.  Geo. 
My life too on his bounty does depend.  War. 
Is it in me to give you happiness?  Geo. 
Yes, if a Father can bestow a Daughter.  War. 
I shall be very proud, you will accept her.  Geo. 
I shall be very happy to attain her.  War. 
She shall be yours, if the King give consent.  Ed. 
My Brother could not have obliged me more  
Than in this choice.  War. 
Then she's at his devotion.  Geo. 
Then I'm a happy man.  Ed. 
The Earl of Warwick  
Is the good Angel of our Family.  Ric. 
Of what strange stuff so different from my Brother's  
Am I made? they are all-over love;  
I have appetite, but not one grain of Love.  Ed. 
Thou art not of a mould for love to grow in;  
Men plant not flowers in a Kitchen garden.  
Well, Brother, I create you Duke of Clarence.  
You, Brother Richard, I make Duke of Gloucester.  Ric. 
I do not like the Title, it is am inous.  Ed. 
A foolish observation!—  War. 
Royal Sir,  
I'll take my leave.—  Ed. 
Success attend thy Embassy.  [Ex. Geo. 
I'll take my leave.  Ed. 
Success attend your love—  [Ex. Scene a Chamber. Enter Lady Grey, and her Woman. La. Gr. 
King Henry beaten? poor unfortunate King!  
I and my Children are all ruined with him;  
The conquerors will seize my Husband's lands.  War. 
Madam, the greatest Conqueror is your Friend,  
The Earl of Warwick, he'll preserve your Fortune,  
Yes, and advance 'em, if you'll give him leave.  La. Gr. 
Name not that insolent great man, I hate him.  Enter a Page. Pa, 
Madam, the Earl of Warwick's coming up.  La. Gr. 
He coming up? how knows he I am here?  Pa. 
His Servants learned it accidentally.  Enter Earl of Warwick. War. 
So near fair Widow, and my beating pulses,  
And quivering flesh give me no notice of it?  
For the kind needle never fails to tremble  
When it approaches it's beloved Pole.  
What have you paid formality her wages,  
And turned off that old Governess of Women?  
Have you yet dried your eyes, and drawn your Curtains?  
Is the Son good enough to be admitted o you?  
If so I hope his humble kindred may,  
For I am near akin to him in heat.  
In short you shall be mine, if I can give  
Others a Crown, I'll give myself a wife.  La. Gr. 
If you were serious, as I think you are not,  
You give me a brave occasion to revenge  
My Husband's blood and your affronts to me,  
By making you unhappy in a Wife.  War. 
Were you the first of Widows that talked thus,  
I must confess I think 'twould damp my courage,  
But when this is the constant language spoke  
In the dark shady Land of Veils and mourning,  
Should I be scared, I were as rank a fool  
As the dull Hero that should leave a pleasant  
Country he conquered, 'cause the people speak  
A strange odd Language; you are a conquered Province  
And you may keep your Language and your Customs;  
But I will have the Government and Tribute.  La. Gr. 
My Lord, I have affairs of greater consequence  
Than this fond talk, and so your humble Servant.  War 
So have not I, and therefore you shall stay.  La. Gr. 
What do you mean my Lord?  War. 
I mean, my Lady,  
To marry you this day, enjoy you this night.  La. Gr. 
My Lord, I tell you plainly I do not love you.  War. 
All's one, I tell you plainly I will have you.  
I know you are a woman of great virtue,  
And time will file away these rugged humours.  
But if it do not, though your soul be rough,  
Your body will be smooth, your Cheeks be soft,  
Your eyes be sparkling, and your lips be tempting:  
And more perhaps might make me mad with love.  
Ho! call a Parson!  La. Gr. 
Now my Lord?  War. 
Ay! now.  La. Gr. 
What, and my Husband died so very lately?  War. 
What then? what has the dead to do with us?  La. Gr. 
I'll rather go a begging with my Children.  War. 
Come leave this fooling!— by this kiss you shall.  La. Gr. 
I'll die ere suffer all this barbarous rudeness.  War. 
Well thou art a most beauteous Creature,  
I'm going now Ambassador for France,  
I'll let thee keep thy humour one month more  
But then at my return be sure I find thee  
Divorced from sorrow and the dead for ever;  
Give not one sigh or to the dead or living.  
Sigh thou for any Man alive but me  
And though a King he had better be a slave,  
Sigh for the dead, I'll tear him from his Grave.—  [Ex. La. Gr. 
What shall I do? for I abhor this man.  
What comes into my thoughts? is it not said  
King Edward (for we now must call him so)  
Lodges to night at his own Neighbouring Castle?  Wom. 
Yes, Madam.  La. Gr. 
I'm informed he is a Prince  
Of a most noble Nature; I'm resolved  
To fling myself in sorrow at his Feet,  
And beg him to have pity on my Children,  
What e'er their Father was, they are not his Enemies;  
And if I can obtain their Father's Lands,  
Then I shall 'scape this man, I so much hate.  [Ex. Scene a Room of State. Enter Edward, Richard, Guards. Ed. 
The Situation of this Castle pleases me.  Rich. 
But, Sir, not me, for I'm afraid it stands  
Too near a Beauty that once stopped your way,  
And I'm afraid will do it once again.  Ed. 
Women are moving Creatures, and may follow us.  Rich. 
Pardon my confidence, I love to serve  
My Friends as boldly as I fight my Enemies.  Ed. 
You say well, Brother, and I'll promise you,  
Nothing shall stay me here, beyond this night.  Enter a Lord. Lord. 
A Lady, Sir, desires to kiss your hands.  Ric. 
A Lady? Poxo ' Ladies; he is tinder  
To every Lady, and will catch new fire.  Enter Lady Grey, and her Women: She kneels, kisses King Edward's hand, he raises her, and Salutes her. Rich. 
A very lovely woman! he is ruined!  Ed. 
I ne'er had Eyes, or my eyes ne'er saw beauty,  
Till this amazing minute.  Ric. 
So! he's gone:  
Any one may have London now that will.  La. Gr. 
Sir, I present you humbly the petition  [Kneels again, and the King gazes. 
Of a poor Widow, and her little Orphans:  
I am the Widow of one Sir John Grey,  
Who in S. Alban's Battle lost his life,  
In the defence of him we thought our King.  
If my poor Husband's Loyalty did err,  
He dearly for that fatal error paid.  
My humble prayer is, that my poor Orphans  
May not be punished for their Father's Faults,  
If erring Loyalty can be a fault.  Ed. 
I am so rapt, I mind not what she say;  
Nor that she is all this while upon her knees:  
Pray, Madam, rise,— leave us—.  [To the Attendants. Ric. 
So she (I find)  
Must grant a thing, before her thing be granted.  Ex. Ed. 
Had you a Husband, Madam, did you say?  La. Gr. 
Yes, Sir, I had one at S. Alban's Battle;  
His Name was Sir John Grey.  Ed. 
Oh happy man!  
What excellence had he above mankind,  
That he should be more blessed than all mankind?  
And have you Children?  La. Gr. 
Many poor young Orphans.  Ed. 
Oh! wondrous happy man t' enjoy this Woman!  
I must inquire about her, I was never,  (Aside.) 
Never so charmed before. My Lord, come hither,  
Pray do you know this Lady?  Lord. 
Yes, Sir, well.  
She is the Widow of Sir John Grey of Grooby,  
A man of Quality, and great Estate.  
But a most vehement Lancastrian.  Ed. 
No matter: of what Family is she?  Lord. 
Her quality does far exceed her Husbands;  
And yet her Virtue does exceed her quality.  
She is the Daughter of Sir Richard Woodvile,  
Her Mother was sometimes Duchess of Bedford.  Ed. 
Duchess of Bedford? Ha!  Lord. 
Duchess of Bedford.  
And Daughter of the Earl of S. Pool.  Ed. 
Of noble birth, and by her Mother's side  
Related to the house of Lancaster.  Lord. 
She is by Marriage, Sir; that was the cause  
That Sir John Grey was such a sierce Lancastrian.  Ed. 
She has Beauty, she has Virtue, she has Birth:  (Aside) 
Why may not this fair Lady be a Queen?  
But she's a Subject, England will not like it.  
And th' English Nation, like the Sea it governs,  
Is bold and turbulent, and easily moved,  
And always beats against the shore, that bounds it.  
What? is the people free, and not the King?  
Not free where every Slave is free, his bed?  
Yes, so it is, it seems, and English fury  
Will easily with any wind be raised,  
To dash the Palaces, and Beds of Kings.  
Come what come will, this Lady shall be mine.  
She shall be, or my Mistress, or my Wife.  
What was it, Madam, you desired o' me?  La. Gr. 
To give poor Orphans, Sir, their Father's Lands.  Ed. 
Heaven forbid I should retain 'em from 'em!  La. Gr. 
Then, Sir, with humble thanks I take my leave.  Ed. 
Hold, Madam, for I must have one word more,  
I must impose a Tax upon this Land.  La. Gr. 
It shall be thankfully, and gladly paid.  Ed. 
It will I'm sure more gladly be received.  
It is an easy Tax, no more but Love.  La. Gr. 
No Loyal Subjects, Sir, but love their King.  Ed. 
But this is love, that none but you can grant.  La. Gr. 
I do not understand your meaning, Sir.  Ed. 
Truly, I scarcely understand myself,  
For I have gazed myself out of my Reason.  La. Gr. 
With your permission, Sir, I'll take my leave.  Ed. 
Oh! you shall never, never part from me.  La. Gr. 
What do you mean, Sir?  Ed. 
I mean all the Love,  
ere was or can be in the heart of man.  La. Gr. 
Love, Sir?  Ed. 
Ay Love.  La. Gr. 
I dare not understand you,  
Because I dare not think ill of my Prince.  Ed. 
Can there be ill in Love? there will be all  
The happiness to me, glory to you,  
Your heart and mine can possibly desire.  
Why do you tremble, and draw back your hand?  
You must not, shall not stir till you have granted,  
What all this languishing, and pressing means.  La. Gr. 
Oh! I shall swoon! would I had ne'er come here!  
Sir, I thus low most humbly beg of you,  
Let it suffice your conquering arms have seized  
My Husband's life, your laws have seized his Lands,  
Seek not to take my honour, and my Virtue.  
I never fought against you, ne'er opposed you.  Aside. Ed. 
I wrong her beauty, it deserves a Crown,  
Every look claims a Kingdom as it's due;  
And I, who gained my right, should not wrong others.  
Madam, I mean nothing but honour to you,  
I am resolved to make you Queen of England.  La. Gr. 
Now, Sir, you mean dishonour to yourself.  
I am as much unworthy to be Queen,  
As I'm above serving an ill design.  Ed. 
Rather the crown's unworthy of your Beauty.  La. Gr. 
It is impossible, you should descend  
To such mean thoughts.  Ed. 
It is impossible,  
I should have happiness without your Love.  
I had rather with your Love be your dead Husband,  
Than with your hatred be a living King.  La. Gr. 
I lately wished I never had come here  
For my own sake, I wish it now for yours:  
Oh! think Sir, what will all your Subjects say?  Ed. 
They'll say, I am in Love.  La. Gr. 
But will they not  
Be much displeased, their Prince should love so low?  Ed. 
I give them leave to choose where they like best;  
Why should I be the only man imposed on?  La. Gr. 
But I'm a Widow, and have many Children.  Ed. 
And I have Children too, though I'm a Bachelor;  
So we are tried, and shall be sure of Heirs.  La. Gr. 
But you have sent to Court a foreign Princess,  
May bring your Kingdom great advantages.  Ed. 
Then let my Kingdom go and marry her.  La. Gr. 
Consider, you may enrage the Earl of Warwick.  Ed. 
He is my Friend, and Servant, not my Guardian.  La. Gr. 
But, Sir, they say you are promised to another.  Ed. 
When I'm a priest I will do penance for it.  La. Gr. 
I am afraid you'll lose your Subjects love.  Ed. 
Why should I lose their love, by loving Subjects?  La. Gr. 
But you have many Subjects of more Beauty.  Ed. 
My Subjects if they please may marry 'em.  
I give them freedom, and I'll take my own,  
I'll take it too this minute.  La. Gr. 
At first sight?  
You'll think me, Sir, immodest, should I grant.  Ed. 
A King is above forms; I'll have it so.  
Then come away.  La. Gr. 
What in this Mourning habit?  Ed. 
I marry not your habit, but yourself.  La. Gr. 
The world will much condemn you, Sir.  Ed. 
I care not,  
I had rather live a minute in your Arms,  
Than many ages in the praise of Fools.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
Most happy tidings, Sir! Henry your Enemy,  
wandering alone, disguised in homely habit,  
Was taken by the Keepers of the Forest,  
As he was reading in shady Covert.  Ed. 
Good news indeed! where is he? bring him to me.  Enter King Henry in a poor habit, brought in by a Couple of Foresters. 
Why how now Henry? in this humble dress?  Hen. 
Insult not, Edward, over my misfortunes,  
But from this garb, in which thou scarce canst know me,  
Learn thou to know thyself; for in my fall  
Heaven humbles every King as well as me.  Ed. 
Henry, I pity thee, thou dost not suffer  
For thy own Crimes, but those of thy usurping  
And traitorous Ancestors. To London with him.  
And keep him a close Prisoner in the Tower.  
But let him there command all things but Liberty.  [Ex. Hen. with a guard. 
How all my happinesses flow together:  
A Crown upon my Head, my chiefest Enemy  
Under my Feet, and Beauty in my Arms.  [Ex. Enter Richard. Ric. 
What's this? a Chaplain called for? he is mad—  
He'll marry her, and marry at first sight.  
Marry a Subject, nay, and a mean Subject,  
Nay, the poor wretched leavings of a Subject,  
A Widow, and the Widow of a Knight!  
I fear this Marriage will enrage the Kingdom,  
But I fear more the furious Warwick's Rage,  
Whose haughty temper will not hear the affront  
Of being sent on a mock-Embassy.  
Now, though I'd have him fight him, have him kill him,  
Kill both my Brothers, if he'd set up me:  
But that he cannot do, for he must fight  
In Henry's Name, and so must set up Henry.  
He's not far from hence, I'll after him,  
And for my own sake I will pacify him;  
And let the King mean while finish his marriage.  
For I would have him finish it, because  
I'm told he has another Wife, if so,  
The Children of this Marriage must be Bastards,  
Then when I've killed Henry, and his Son,  
And by some Arts destroyed my Brother Clarence,  
The King once dead, I'll Bastardise his Children;  
Then am I King, but some will say by Villainy:  
That's Villainy, that by its ill success  
Betray's a man and into ruin throws;  
When once it gains a Crown, it virtue grows.  [Ex. The Scene a Chapel Edward, and Lady Grey, A Priest, Attendants. The solemnity ended. Enter Lady Elinor Butler. La. El. 
Ha! is it so? and can the news be true?  
It cannot be, I'll not believe my Eyes,  
I'll know the truth— King Edward.  Ed. 
Lady Elinor?—  La. El. 
My heart's so full I cannot speak to him.  
Ha! is he shunning me? Nay, then he's guilty.  
What is the cause, King Edward, you would shun me?  
Am I so strangely changed since I last saw you,  
You cannot bear my sight?  Ed. 
No surely, Madam,  
You are not altered for the worse, I'm certain,  
And for the better 'tis impossible.  La. El. 
Oh! Sir, your passion's dead, and you are weaving  
Garlands of fine expressions for its Funeral.  
If my small beauty were extremely improved,  
I were a horrid sight to thee; an Angel  
Is a most dreadful Vision to a sinner.  La. Gr. 
Who is this?  Ed. 
One your beauty Triumphs over.  La. El. 
Come to the Bar, and answer me, great sinner,  
What dost thou with this wretched Woman here?  
How far hast thou undone thy Soul and her?  
I'm told, thou hast sinned with her even to Marriage.  
Thou durst not do it sure!— say, is it true?  Ed. 
Madam, I must confess, 'tis very true.  La. El. 
How? is it true?  Ed. 
Yes, Madam, it is true.  La. El. 
What after all the Oaths thou hast sworn to me?  Ed. 
Beauties, like palaces, have several ways  
Of access to 'em; I believed those Oaths  
A form of speaking, which did please you best.  
What form o' damning in do you expect?  
The lowest place in Hell?  Ed. 
Rather a place  
Among the Saints of the Old Testament.  La. El. 
Yes, Jewish Saints; but pray, will Christian Saintship  
Admit such things?  Ed. 
Oh! yes! ay, when I please,  
Can have a dispensation from his Holiness.  La. El. 
What then his Holiness will be your pardon?  
A very excellent office for a Pope!  
To be the Universal Bawd of Christendom!  
A very excellent Shepherd, that will give  
His sheep a dispensation to be rotten!  Ed. 
Well, you shall be my fair Confessor then,  
I'll own my sins to you, and ask your pardon.  La. El. 
And dost thou hope to have it?  Ed. 
I will give you  
Any other satisfaction.  La. El. 
What? thy blood?  
Do, kill thyself I swear I'll pardon thee.  Ed. 
I would do much for that; but I would live  
A little while to mend and to repent.  La. El. 
Wouldst thou repent? Oh! I will pray thou mayst.  
Oh may heaven lash thee with so many plagues,  
May fill thee, and surround thee with repentance!  
I will not curse this most unhappy Woman;  
For she alas! is cursed enough in thee.  
Poor Woman, he has gulled thee horridly,  
For he has only picked the name of wife  
Out of my Marriage sheets, to hide thy shame with.  
As for his love in which thou think'st thee happy,  
'Tis like a Green-land-Summer, short and hot,  
And whilst it lasts 'tis day, all smiling day,  
But soon he goes to visit other provinces,  
But oh! he never like the Sun returns.  
Farewell, poor wretch, pitied not envied by me,  
Thou think'st we part with very different fortunes,  
I go to sorrow, and thou stayest with joy;  
Alas! I leave thee but in a fools paradise,  
And very shortly we shall meet in Bedlam.  [Ex. La. Gr. 
Oh, Sir, I like not this! this is an ill  
Beginning o' this day.  Ed. 
Why so, my Love?  
That's well begun, that is begun with sacrifice,  
She is thy sacrifice.  ACry within, Arm, Arm. Treason, Warwick! Warwick! Then Enter Warwick and his Soldiers, and seize Edward, and Lady Grey. Ed. 
Why how now Warwick? What dost mean by this?  War. 
What mean'st thou Duke to put this scorn upon me?  Ed. 
Duke! when we parted thou didst call me King.  War. 
Then I disgraced the Title, and I gave it  
To one, who merit's not the name of Friend.  
Were I a King, I'd hang that common Fellow,  
That should abuse a Friend, as thou hast me,  
And such a friend as I have been to thee.  Ed. 
Thou dost abuse thyself, in talking thus.  War. 
Then it is no abuse to me, to make me  
The seorn of every French Page, and waiting Woman.  
The Marriage is agreed on, nothing wanting  
To complete all, but my arrival there,  
And all my Equipage and Train are gone.  
Now, when instead of me, this news arrives,  
I shall have all my Servants hissed from France,  
Myself be made a Common public jest,  
I shall be called the great Ambassador,  
That goes with splendour to negotiate nothing.  
But my Embassage is but like my conquest,  
For I have fought for thee, that is, for nothing.  
I've stole the Royal Robes to adorn nothing,  
And help it to another nothing— Woman.  La. Gr. 
Pll tell you, Sir, whence all this fury spring's;  
This haughty Lord, who thinks his Sword has given  
Chains to our Sex, as well as to the men,  
Did strive to drag me to his marriage bed.  
And using many threats, I out of fear,  
Made some faint yield, but he finding now  
I'm placed above his reach, his burning envy  
Seek's to destroy what he cannot attain;  
Then calls his fury his revenge of honour.  Ed. 
Is that the mystery indeed?  War. 
Yes, Duke;  
Thou with a Crown hast bought a Widow from me;  
And bought her with the Kingdom which I gave thee.  Ed. 
Com'st thou to ruin me for love of beauty,  
And thou thyself rebel for love of it?  War. 
I come to punish thy ingratitude.  Ed. 
I did not know thy Love, but say I did,  
If I commit a fault to take a Woman,  
To whom thou hast no right, then what dost thou,  
Who plunder'st thy Kings Right, thy Country's peace?  War. 
Thy glory's mine, my Sword created it.  
My Crime is thine, thy wrongs to me created it.  Ed. 
I'm a great Criminal to wrong a Subject,  
Thou none, to ruin both the King and Kingdom.  
Thus men, like Bears, devour the young of others;  
But strive to lick their own fowl Cubs to shape.  War. 
I do no wrong in ruining you all,  
I but restore to every thing it's own.  
I to the Kingdom shall restore the damned  
Confusion, which my Sword took away from it.  
I shall restore this Woman to her tears.  
I found her weeping over her dead Husband:  
I'll leave her weeping over thy dead fortunes.  
I will restore thee, and all thy Family  
To the subjection from which I advanced it.  
Thy fortunes to their proper state I'll bring,  
Beauty shallbe thy plague, thy foe thy King.  [Ex.  

ACT. V.  
Scene London.  Enter King Henry in a rich Robe, under a Canopy: The Queen and Prince followed by Warwick, and Guards, with their Swords drawn. Shouts, and Acclamations. They pass over the Stage. The Scene changes to the Palace. Enter King Henry, Queen, Prince, Warwick, Qu. 
NOw, Sir, you are King again, this valiant Lord  
Has left the horrid deserts of Rebellion;  
Where he, and all his glorious deeds were lost,  
And found the Road of Honour.  War. 
I confess,  
Fortune did misled me, and I the Kingdom,  
To give your Royal Rights to a false Prince,  
Who has the Royal blood, no Royal Virtues;  
So has no right to Crowns those virtues gained.  Hen. 
I give you thanks, my Lord, for your great gifts;  
Life, Freedom, and a Crown; I call 'em gifts,  
'Cause you can take 'em from me, or let me keep 'em.  
To Life, and Freedom, I have a clear Title;  
Because I ne'er did any ill, to forfeit 'em.  
But oh! I am afraid to wear the Crown  
For fear I share the murder that procured it.  Qu. 
Oh! Spiritless Prince! born for a Chain, a Prison:  
What if your Grandfather murdered his King?  
Must you take Physic for his sicknesses?  
Nay, must you die? for a King's Crown and Life  
Go both together; So King Richard found it.  Pr. 
Sir, all our lives wholly depend on yours.  
And for one fault of my dead Grandfather,  
Which he perhaps repented, will you punish  
Thousands? You will sin to lose a Crown,  
More than my Grandfather did do to gain one.  Qu. 
If you will doom yourself to be deposed,  
Because the Crown was gotten by ill means;  
By the same law  
You may hang half your Kingdom:  
If men by inheriting their Father's Fortunes,  
Inherit the Crimes, by which their Fathers gained 'em,  
Where is the Nation would not deserve hanging?  War. 
Sir, talk no more; you are, and shall be King.  
All power is from Heaven, Earth, or Hell.  
Heaven send's you his consent in my success,  
The People send you all their votes in me;  Hen. 
My Lord, I have a Conscience I'll not part with  
For this and many Kingdoms; but you tell me,  
That Royal Virtue first gave royal Power;  
Now I have Royal Virtue, Edward none;  
And therefore I must Reign, and he be ruined.  
Oh! my Lord, this is a confounding principle.  
If Kings may lose their Rights for want of Virtue,  
And Subjects are the Judges of that Virtue;  
Then Kings are Subjects, and all Subjects Kings:  
And by that Law that Subjects may destroy  
Their Kings for want of Virtue, other Subjects  
May think those Subjects Rogues, and cut their throats.  
Thus Babel might be builded, but no Kingdom.  Pr. 
Sir, if you be no King, we are all Rebels,  
And aught to die.  War. 
And you shall reign or die;  
If you refuse the Crown, I'll carry it back;  
And with it both your heads, to ransommine.  
I'll quench your lives, as Mariners would do  
False lights, that lead their Vessels to destruction.  Qu. 
Why do you pause, Sir, will you rather die,  
And let your Son die too, ere be a King?  Hen. 
Powerful Nature is too hard for me.  
Will it not cost more blood, if I should Reign?  War. 
The War is at an end, Edward's my Prisoner;  
Not only doomed by Heaven unfit to Reign;  
But by his flesh and blood, his Brother Clarence,  
Who has revolted from him, and brought all  
His Troops to mine, and to create between us  
A lasting league, marries my youngest Daughter.  Pr. 
And I have given my heart, Sir, to her sister.  
Oh! do not make me wretched every way.  Hen. 
Oh! Nature conquer's me!  Qu. 
Oh! happy conquest.  Pr. 
Upon my knees, Sir, I return you thanks.  Enter George. War. 
See, here comes he, who gallantly to serve  
His King and Country will forsake his Brother.  Geo. 
I thought my blood derived a Crown to us,  
But now I find it derives only Treason,  
To clear the taint, I come to set it boiling  
Over a flaming zeal for the King's service.  War. 
What think you now, Sir? do you judge your title  
Good, when your very Enemies proclaim it?  Hen. 
I find its heavens' will, that I should Reign.  
My noble Friends, let me embrace you both.  
My Lord of Warwick you are fortunate,  
I must beg you to rule, for I'm afraid,  
My thwarting Stars will blast this blessed Land.  War. 
Your Majesty is wise, to foresee evils,  
And good, that you would save your people from 'em.  
Here stands a Prince most worthy of command.  Geo. 
The world has not more worth, than th' Earl of Warwick.  Hen. 
Give me your hands, I join you both together.  
I make you both Protectors of the Kingdom,  
Rule you, while I wait only on devotion.  Qu. 
So, now, my Son, thy inheritance is safe.  Pr. 
May I be happy in my Mistress too?  Qu. 
Yes, if the King consent.  Hen. 
With all my heart.  War. 
The Marriages shall then be both this minute.  Hen. 
With whom is Edward trusted?  War. 
With my Brother,  
The Archbishop of York.  Geo. 
I'm told he gives him liberty  
To hunt; and let's him go out slender guarded.  War. 
I will have that reformed; in the mean while,  
We openly will proclaim Edward a Traitor,  
And seize his Lands.  Geo. 
Let's guard this City well;  
He has friends here, chiefly among the Women;  
And they rule men.  Scene London. Enter Edward, Richard, disguised. Ed. 
Usurping Henry, and false changing Warwick  
Little think certain ruin is so near 'em.  Ric. 
I cannot tell what absolution  
The Priest of York may give his Brother Warwick,  
For all his horrid perjury's and Treason's,  
Warwick will give him none for your escape.  Ed. 
I should be sorry if host, th' Archbishop,  
For all his civil entertainment of me,  
Should have his reckoning paid him with an Ax.  Ric. 
So should I too, for if instead of giving you  
The public Freedom, which you had to hunt;  
He had confined you to Domitian's chase,  
Only to hunt flies in a bed chamber,  
You had not now been here to hunt his Brother.  
Well, Sir, Go you to all your City Friends,  
I'll to the Court; I have intelligence,  
How I may easily surprise your Enemies,  
If it be feazible, I'll venture on it.—  [Ex The Scene a Chapel. Prince, George, their Brides, and a Priest at the Altar; near 'em King Henry, Queen, Warwick, Guards, Attendants. A Shout; Enter an Officer. Off. 
Arm! Arm! Arm! Lord Edward's in the City.  War. 
Thou art mad.  Off. 
I wish I were. I say, Lord Edward  
Is in the City.  War. 
In the womens' hearts?  Off. 
No, in the head of Troops of men and Women.  
There's nothing that can get a Pike or Spit,  
But cry they'll live and die by brave King Edward.  
Richard is with him; they are all marching hither.  War. 
Oh! good Archbishop,  
You are a faithful Brother,  
We are very wise to trust our souls with priests,  
When their own Brothers cannot trust their heads with 'em▪  
I know this Traitorous Priest has sold my head  
To Edward, for th' Archbishopric of Canterbury.  Hen. 
Do not too rashly censure an Archbishop.  
Edward might 'scape by wiles.  War. 
How? cheat a Priest?  
Then he deserves the Kingdom for his cunning.  
Do you think it is easy to cheat priests,  
Who by the help, but of some barbarous words;  
As, Entity, Unity, Verity, Bonity,  
Qniddity, Quantity, Quality Causality,  
Have conjured all you Kings out of their Kingdoms?  
And Edward cheat a Priest,  
Who let a Widow cheat him of his Kingdom?  
Oh! but you'll say, a Woman cheated Adam.  
But Priests cheat women, cheat 'em too of things  
Dear to 'em as their lives, their bawdy secrets.  
They make S. Peter's Keys  
Open all Italian locks— enough of prating.  
I'll go beat Edward, and then hang my Brother.  
My Lord,  
Draw up your Troops; you, Sir, stay here:  [To K. Hen. 
You are unfortunate,  
I do not care,  
To have your cursed Stars among my men.  [Ex. Qu. 
I'll follow, and do you, Son, leave your Bride,  
And go with us, for I'm resolved to see thee  
Heir to the Crown, or dying at my Feet.  [Ex. Pr. 
Fear nothing, Love, I shall return victorious  
Your Royal blessing!—  [Kneels to the King. Hen. 
What sad divining thoughts are these within me?  Pr. 
Oh Sir, why do you weep?  Hen. 
For thee, my Son,  
I'm bound in duty to thy soul to tell thee,  
Something from Heaven suggests our deaths are near.  
Thou first must die, I must behold the loss  
Of all that's dear to me, and then must die.  Pr. 
Oh Sir!—  Hen. 
'Tis so! we never in this world  
Must meet again.  Pr. 
Oh how shall I be able  
To fight, when e'er I see the enemy,  
My King and Father wounds me to the heart?  
See, my Love's weeping too, I'm shot o' both sides;  
And in my heart the deadly Arrows meet:  
I'll rather run among the Enemy's Swords,  
Than here be killed with sorrow by my Friends.  [Ex. Geo. 
So, now will I go join my Brother Edward:  (Aside.) 
I am secure of Warwick's beauteous daughter.  
Now let the Devil take Warwick and his Treason,  
He made me take that brass Coin with his Daughter;  
But I will pay him the damned portion back again.  
He made me swear he'll say, but war's a game,  
And so is Love, and Gamesters Oaths are nothing.  
My Brother's Soldiers are got in the place,  [An Alarm. 
They seek their Enemies, but shall find Friends.  [Ex. An Alarm. Enter Richard, George, Soldiers, and seize Henry and the Women. Ric. 
How now! thou Traitor! thou unnatural Traitor!  Geo. 
Thou wrong'st me, I am as Loyal as thyself.  
What I have done, was only in design  
To gain this beauty, and now she is mine  
My Loyalty is mine.  Ric. 
Can this be true?  Geo. 
Thou sawst it true, thou sawst I fought for thee.  Ric. 
Thou didst; but I believed it was thy Cowardice,  
That made thee now betray thy Friend, as lust  
Made thee betray thy Brother.  Geo. 
It is false.  
And if I don't appear to day in Battle,  
As valiant, and as Loyal as thyself,  
I'll kill myself.  Ric. 
Do that, and I'll embrace thee.  
But let's away: our Royal Brother wants us.—  [Ex. The Scene the Field. Enter Warwick, Queen, Prince, guards. Qu. 
Oh! cursed Traitor! why would you e'er trust  
One that was always false?  War. 
I was bewitched,  
To trust a man, who had betrayed his Brother.  Pr. 
My Father's words now sink into my breast;  
He said at parting, we should never meet  
On Earth again.  War. 
Well if the Villains murder him,  
I will revenge his blood, and make you King.  
Whene're I went to work to make a King,  
Ine're yet failed, whatever stuff I had;  
But hark the Traitors come! let us fall on.  [Ex. Trumpets. An Alarm. Enter Edward, Enter Lady Elinor in man's habit. La. El. 
Turn this way, Edward; here's an Enemy,  
Thirsts for thy blood.  [La. El. and Ed. Fight, La. El. falls. Ed. 
What bold young man is this?  
Thou art dispatched, I wonder who thou art.  La. El. 
Look on me well— see if thou dost not know me.  Ed. 
May I believe my eyes!  La. El. 
Thou may'st, King Edward,  
They speak more truth, than e'er thou didst to me.  Ed. 
Oh! killing sight!  La. El. 
Woven thou hadst never seen me,  
The cold Earth had not been my Deathbed then,  
Nor had I needed (as I do) two graves,  
One for myself, the other for my name.  Ed. 
Oh Heaven!  
How have I wronged this beauteous Creature!  
First robbed her of her Fame, now of her Life!  La. El. 
Ah! Monarch, do I merit this for Love?  Ed. 
Oh no, but I deserve a thousand plagues;  
And I have here with my own hand broke open  
A fair Pandora's box to let 'em out,  
To fly about my head.  La. El. 
Indeed, King Edward,  
My injuries have already found thee out,  
Have driven thee from thy throne, how far will drive thee,  
I cannot tell, I will not curse thee now:  
Cursing is not a language spoke in Heaven,  
And I am very near that glorious Kingdom,  
Therefore I'll speak the language that is blessing.  
May this be the last day of all thy Troubles!  
And I be the last woman thou shalt wrong!  
May Heaven forgive thy broken Vows, as I do,  
And quicklier forget 'em all than thou didst!  
And this one poor request I beg of thee:  
Since I was all the stain of my great Family,  
And I have made thyself, who wert the cause of it,  
With thy own Sword, cut out the ruined piece,  
Oh hide it, where it may no more be seen,  
But be forgot by all as 'twill by thee!  [Dies. Ed. 
She's gone! She's gone!  
Oh! thou sweet injured beauty,  
I never shall forget thee whilst I live,  
Thy wrongs I fear will haunt my mind and fortune,  
In this sweet spot of Earth I fear I've planted  
Much mischief for myself; I gathered all  
The Sweets, and now Thorns will spring up to tear me.  Enter an Officer. Offi. 
Oh Sir, the Earl of Warwick ranges o'er  
The Field, with so much fury, and success  
Your Troops are just upon the point of flying.  Ed. 
My punishment so soon pursue my Crime!  
This beauties wrongs steel that proud Rebel's Sword,  
And give it all the kneenness that it has.  
Oh Heaven hide thy eyes from this sweet Creature,  
At least for this one hour; and here I vow,  
I will give o'er robbing such spicy Isles,  
And take an honest dwelling at my own,  
Lest sailing to a fro a Tempest fall,  
That shall revenge the injuries of 'em all.  [Ex. Enter Edward and Warwick Fighting, War. falls. Ed. 
Now I am King of England, and jowe,  
My Crown to my own Sword, and not to thine.  War. 
Insult not, Edward, for I am not killed  
By thee, but Henry's cursed Destiny.  
I'm crushed under the wheels of his damned fortune,  
I am ground all to pieces by his Stars.  
My fortune sickened when I first came under 'em;  
Truth is, my Spirit led her such a dance,  
She could not keep me company, but tired,  
Now sits her down, and like a poor cast Whore,  
Is glad to be picked up by any body.  
Now thou mayst banish fear, for I am dying;  
Who, when I lived, could frown thee into a Subject,  
Bury thee in the wrinkle of my brow.  Ed. 
Talk not of burying Kings, but rather think  
Of burying all thy Crimes in penitence.  War. 
My greatest Crime is, that I e'er served thee,  
Whose base ingratitude has ruined me;  
I gave thee Kingdoms, and thou giv'st me death.  [Dies. Ed. 
I ne'er wronged thee, nor didst thou ere serve me,  
Thou hast been wronged by nothing, but my ignorance,  
And hast served nothing, but thy vanity;  
And nothing else I fear will e'er reward thee.  Enter George, Richard, and Guards. Geo. 
Now, Sir, I hope you will forgive my errors  
For Beauty's sake, for Beauty drew me in,  
And you have felt the mighty power of Beauty.  Ed. 
Brother, your errors are all buried under  
Heaps of my Enemies, you have killed to day.  
I have dispatched my greatest Enemy;  
Warwick will make, and unmake no more Kings.  Ric. 
And the bold Amazon Queen, and insolent Boy,  
Her fierce Son Edward, are both taken Prisoners.  
I've ordered, Sir, they shall attend you here.  
And here they are.  Enter Queen, Prince, Guarded as Prisoners. Ed. 
So, Madam!— and young Edward,  
What satisfaction will you make to me,  
For all the Mischief you have done my Kingdom,  
And all the Trouble you have given me?  Pr. 
What satisfaction wilt thou make my Father,  
Me, and the Kingdom, for thy bold usurping  
My Father's Crown, and my inheritance,  
Ruining us, and slaughtering our people?  Qu. 
Oh! that thy Father had been so resolved!  Ric. 
That so your Distaff might have been our Sceptre.  Pr. 
Why, how now AEsop? Nay, mistake me not,  
AEsop I mean in Body not in mind.  Ric. 
Brat!— I will crush thy brains out.  Ed. 
Hold, forbear—  
He is a Boy.  Ric. 
Why, then to School with him,  
To learn him manners.  Pr. 
If I learn thy manners,  
The Devil must be my Tutor.  Ed. 
Hold your peace,  
You foolish Child.  Geo. 
The Boy's too malapert.  Pr. 
The man is too perjured, I mean perjured George,  
And you are all Traitors to me your Prince.  Ed. 
How now, proud Boy? take that.  [Strikes him with his hand. Ric. 
Nay, then take that—  Geo. 
And that for twitting me with Perjury.  [Rich. and Geo. draw, and kill him. Qu. 
Oh! they have killed my Son— oh murderers!  
Oh! kill me too.  Ric. 
Marry with all my heart!  [The Qu. swoons upon the Prince. Ed. 
Hold, Brother, we have done too much already.  
Why would you cruelly kill the poor Boy?  
I struck him in my Choler, but I meant him  
No farther harm.  Ric. 
Who could forbear?— besides,  
Should we have let him live to cut our Throats?  Geo. 
What would have grown up with him but Rebelion?  
Why should a Sprig grow up to be a Tree,  
That would breed nothing else but Caterpillars?  Ed. 
His Mother Swoon's, use means for her recovery.  Qu. 
Oh, my dear Son is killed! my Son is killed!  
Speak to thy Mother, Son! canst thou not speak?  
Oh murderers, Butchers, Traitors, Cannibals,  Ric. 
Hence with this railing Woman.  Qu. 
Ay hence with me,  
Out of the world; I prithee, Richard, kill me:  
Murder is all the Alms thou givest the miserable;  
Bestow thy bloody Charity upon me;  
Have pity on a Queen that begs it of thee.  Ric. 
We pity not those that are born to beggary;  
If thou dost beg, 'tis but thy native poverty.  Ed. 
Insult not o'er a miserable Woman;  
Madam, I pray go hence, you shall be used  
With all respect.  Qu. 
All the respect of Murderers  
Is death; Oh! bloody George do thou bestow it.  Geo. 
I swear I will not do thee so much kindness.  Qu. 
Ay, but thou usest to for swear thyself.  Ed. 
Madam, pray go—  Qu. 
Oh! Edward, Richard, George,  
Be it to you, and yours, as to this Prince,  
For 'twere a shame the Sons of Executioners  
Should e'er be Kings.  Ric. 
Away, with her!— away with her.  [The Guard lead out the Qu. and carry out the Pr. 
Now I will to the Tower to dispatch Henry,  (Aside. 
Till he be killed our work is done by halves.  [Ex. Geo. 
Sir, If you please, I'll visit my young Bride.  [Ex. Ed. 
I have a Beauteous Bride to visit too—  [Ex. Scene, a Room in the Tower, Henry Sleeping. Enter the Ghost of Richard the Second. Gh. 
Wake, Henry, wake to weep, then sleep for ever;  
Thy Kingdom's gone, thy only son is killed,  
A Dagger is preparing for thy Bosom;  
And when thy blood is shed, my blood will sleep.  
I'm that King Richard, whom thy Grandfather  
Deposed, and murdered; and both long and loud  
My blood for vengeance called, and vengeance had,  
First in the wounded Conscience of thy Grandfather,  
Whom all the Royal Ointment could not heal.  
He lived in trouble, and he died with horror.  
And next on the short life of thy great Father;  
Who lived no longer than to beget thee,  
Who hast lost all the glories of thy Father,  
And dost inherit nothing but the curses,  
Due to thy Grandfather; nor does the storm  
Of vengeance only fall on the Usurpers,  
But on the Souls, and miserable Race  
Of all the Traitors, and the Fools, that Flattered  
Thy Grandfather's successful Villainy;  
Who did not know, Kings cannot die alone.  
And now their names are rotting, Children dying,  
Their Houses burnt on Earth, their Souls in Hell.  
Grin at your Grandfathers, you dying wretches  
Covered all o'er with shame, and dust, and blood:  
For this Estate their Villainy conveyed you,  
Th' ascending dirty Vapours of the Earth  
Breed all the storms i'th' Ayr. When e'er Oh! England,  
Thou hast a mind to see thy Cities fired,  
Thy people slaughtered, and thy Country desolate,  
Sendal the dirty Traitors in the Kingdom  
To climb the Royal Rights, and Throne invade,  
Then a high road for vast destruction's made.  The Ghost goes out, and enters with soft Music one clad in a white Robe. Spir. 
Let not this frightful Vision, pious Henry,  
Disturb thy gentle Soul; it is not raised,  
To breed a storm, now thou art near thy Haven;  
Rather to calm the Tempest in thy mind,  
By pointing to thee, on what dismal Rock  
Thy Kingdom, and thy life are cast away,  
The bloody usurpation of thy Grandfather.  
The Crown of England is not made of Clay  
The Common people, so can ne'er be crumbled  
Into that dirt, 'tis not composed if it:  
Nor made of Iron, the Sword, so cannot rust;  
But of unmingled solid lasting Gold,  
Of Ancient Rights, and 'tis the gift of Heaven,  
Therefore to Heaven only can be forfeited,  
Therefore 'tis called Imperial and Sacred,  
And therefore carefully railed in by Laws;  
And torn will be his sacrilegious hand,  
Who has no Right to it, and yet dares reach it,  
And dares presumptuously pretend a Right,  
Because he stands upon the people's heads,  
Such was the bold Ambition of thy Grandfather,  
And heaven frowns upon his Sins, not thee:  
Then do not think thyself unkindly used,  
Religious Henry, that Heaven takes away,  
What is not thine; all that is truly thine  
Thou shalt not part with, but for great advantages,  
Thy Son is taken from thee here, to live with thee  
Above for ever; thou shalt lose thy life,  
Only to exchange it for Eternity;  
Lose humble quiet, for exalted Joy;  
A taste of which wafted in Heavenly Harmony,  
Pure as this lower drossy air admits,  
I bring thee down to raise thy Spirits high.   

A SONG  Sung by Spirits to King Henry as he lies asleep. 

COme, Heavenly Spirits, comforts bring,  
To the most miserable thing,  
Can be on Earth, a Ruined King.   

As all the Joys on Earth Unite,  
To make his prosperous Fortune bright;  
So every woe, to shade his Night.   

He has but one poor Joy, the Grave,  
A thing that's free to every Slave,  
And that with ease he cannot have.   

For Daggers, Swords, and Poison lie  
To guard his Tomb, and make him buy  
With pain the wretched ease to die.   

But comfort, Prince, thy death is near,  
For Dead thou hast no more to fear,  
A fallen Monarchs Hell is here.   

To Fortune he can nothing owe,  
For all that e'er she did bestow,  
He pays again in heavy woe.    
They Vanish; and Henry wakes. Hen. 
What have I seen and heard?— Oh! come my murderers,  
And set me forwards on my way to Heaven,  
Whilst I've such rich provisions for my journey.  Enter Richard and the Keeper. 
Here comes my murderer, less horrid to me  
In bringing Death, than bringing to my sight  
The horrid Author of my sweet Son's death.  
For so in dream it was revealed to me.  
My bloody Grandfather destroyed King Richard,  
And now a bloody Richard destroys me.  Ric. 
Go, leave us to ourselves, we must confer.  Hen. 
What bloody Scene has Roscius now to Act?  Ric. 
Do you suspect me? fear haunts guilty minds;  
The Thief thinks every bush an Officer.  Hen. 
The Bird that sees the Bush where once itself  
Was limned, and it's sweet young limned caught and killed,  
Cannot but hover round it with misdoubt.  Ric. 
What an aspiring Fool was he of Crect,  
Who taught his Son the office of a Fowl?  
And drowned the Boy by teaching him to fly.  Hen. 
Indeed my Boy was Icarus, thy Brother  
Edward the Sun that did dissolve his wings,  
And thou the gulf that swallowed up his life.  
But many a thousand wretched Father more,  
And many an Orphan's water-standing-eye,  
And many a Widows Groan, and old man's Sigh  
Shall rue the Hour that ever thou wast born.  
When thou wast born, nature by horrid signs  
Gave notice to the world of coming Mischief;  
The Birds of night did shrieke and cry to tell,  
That Hour there was a Child of darkness born.  
Winds blew down Trees as hell were making gallows,  
Thy mother had a kind of Hellish pain  
As She had been in labour of a Devil.  
Thy legs came first, and thou wert born with Teeth,  
And cam'st to bite—  Ric. 
I'll hear no more— die, Prophet,  [Stabs Hen. 
For this (among the rest) I was ordained!  Hen. 
ay, and for much more slaughter after this.  
Heaven forgive me my sins, and thee this murder!  Ric. 
Thou didst say truth, I came with my legs forward  
Into the World, but 'twas to o'er take thee,  
And all that stand between the Crown and me.  Enter the Lieutenant. Ric. 
What noise is that?  Lieu. 
The King is Coming, Sir,  
And all the Court with him, to see the Prisoner,  
And comfort him; the King intends to keep  
His Court here till his Coronation.  Rich. 
Nay, than I must be gone, he will be angry  
At what I've done—  [Ex. Enter Edward, George, Train, Guard. Ed. 
Where is your prisoner?  Lieu. 
He's murdered.  Ed. 
Murdered? Oh! thou bloody Villain!  
Durst thou do this, when I commanded thee  
To give him all Princely respect and usage?  Lieu. 
Sir, on my knees I do beseech you hear me:  
Your Brother, my Lord Richard, came to visit him,  
And was left with him by his own command,  
And now he's fled; that none but he could do this deed.  Geo. 
Sir, I believe him; this is like my Brother.  Ed. 
Heaven to his crooked shape has bent his soul.  
He was designed for mischief, and thrust forward  
Unfinished in the World to lose no time  
And I believe if we don't watch him narrowly,  
He'll make no scruple to use us as rudely,  
For crowding rudely into the world before him;  
But I believe I'm safe, England, by this time,  
Has had enough of Rebels, and Usurpers.  
I faney now the Sons of those poor Gentlemen,  
Those honest foolish cheated Gentlemen,  
Who did turn Rebels but they meant no harm,  
Who fought their King, slaughtered their Friends, and Kinsmen,  
Destroyed their Country, but they meant no harm,  
And for reward had all their houses burned,  
Their Wives and Daughters ravished, their lands seized,  
And themselves knocked o'th' head, but meant no harm.  
I say, I fancy their unhappy Offspring  
Will prove exceeding honest Loyal Subjects,  
For by their Father's Ruin they have learned Wit..  Geo. 
That's all a Nation gets by Civil War.  Ed. 
Yes, with the Prodigal they learn, 'tis better  
Obeying their Kings, the Fathers of their Country,  
Than run and waste their Fortune and their Liberties,  
And do the drudgeries of proud Usurpers,  
Who will perhaps set 'em to keep their Swine.  
And after a long beggary and slavery  
Return with shame and sorrow to their Loyalty.  
Take up the Body of that unfortunate Prince,  
I will bestow Royal interrement on it.  
His, and the Kingdom's dreadful Ruins prove,  
A Monarch's Right is an unshaken Rock,  
No storms of War nor time can wear away,  
And Wracks those Pirates that come there for prey.  [Ex.   

EPILOGUE.  
TO a cloyed lover, with his Mistress tired,  
How palled she seems, who once was so desired?  
He Shuns her sight, and when she comes to sin,  
Damn her, he cries, tell her I'm not within:  
So nauseous and unpleasant now are grown  
All the delights of wit to this cloyed Town.  
Nowon Religious Brawls your time you spend;  
When sinners grow devout, they're near their end.  
The Nation, of a natural humour Gay,  
That in vile Pamphlets does begin to pray  
The aid of Rascals for her sickly State,  
Is in a malady as desperate  
As the young Spark, who late Religion scorned,  
Grown deadly sick, is a Fanatic turned,  
And begs, in bits o' Paper up and down,  
The Prayers of all the Godly of the Town.  
Oh! we are sick, at least our brains are bad,  
England is ne'er devout till it is mad.  
Our Fathers to their cost did find it so,  
And small things will make mad men fight, you know.  
Oh! what a Bedlam once was this sweet place,  
When graceless Rogues did Fight about freegrace?  
And wilful Fools would obstinately spill  
His blood, who durst say man had a freewill?  
Of all our Civil broils, those we have shown  
To day, our Nation with least shame may own.  
For Subjects then for loyalty did fight,  
And Princes to maintain their Royal Right.  
Yet those rich Ornaments were very far  
From gracing that fowl Monster Civil-War.  
How ugly then she is when ridden blind,  
With Pope before, but Presbyter behind?  
Such a poor Nation's case is very evil:  
Those two would ride a Kingdom to the Devil.  
Learn then, by what you have beheld to day,  
To keep your wit, and money whilst you may;  
Better at Dice to throw away your Wealth,  
Your time at cursed Plays, with Punks your health,  
Than by damned senseless bloody strifes, about  
No one knows what, be trod on by the Rout,  
Have your Wealth plundered, and your brains beat out,  
And die like Jesuits to be thought devout.  
FINIS.