Henry VI, Part III, William Shakespeare [detective books to read txt] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «Henry VI, Part III, William Shakespeare [detective books to read txt] 📗». Author William Shakespeare
At my depart, these were his very words:
“Go tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
To revel it with him and his new bride.”
Is Lewis so brave? belike he thinks me Henry.
But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?
These were her words, utter’d with mad disdain:
“Tell him, in hope he’ll prove a widower shortly,
I’ll wear the willow garland for his sake.”
I blame not her, she could say little less;
She had the wrong. But what said Henry’s queen?
For I have heard that she was there in place.
“Tell him,” quoth she, “my mourning weeds are done,
And I am ready to put armour on.”
Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
But what said Warwick to these injuries?
He, more incensed against your majesty
Than all the rest, discharged me with these words:
“Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I’ll uncrown him ere’t be long.”
Ha! durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?
Well I will arm me, being thus forewarn’d:
They shall have wars and pay for their presumption.
But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?
Ay, gracious sovereign; they are so link’d in friendship,
That young Prince Edward marries Warwick’s daughter.
Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.
Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast,
For I will hence to Warwick’s other daughter;
That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage
I may not prove inferior to yourself.
You that love me and Warwick, follow me. Exit Clarence, and Somerset follows.
Aside. Not I:
My thoughts aim at a further matter; I
Stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown.
Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick!
Yet am I arm’d against the worst can happen;
And haste is needful in this desperate case.
Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
Go levy men, and make prepare for war;
They are already, or quickly will be landed:
Myself in person will straight follow you. Exeunt Pembroke and Stafford.
But, ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance:
Tell me if you love Warwick more than me?
If it be so, then both depart to him;
I rather wish you foes than hollow friends:
But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
That I may never have you in suspect.
Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
Now therefore let us hence; and lose no hour,
Till we meet Warwick with his foreign power. Exeunt.
A plain in Warwickshire.
Enter Warwick and Oxford, with French soldiers. WarwickTrust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
The common people by numbers swarm to us.
But see where Somerset and Clarence come!
Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends?
Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
And welcome, Somerset: I hold it cowardice
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn’d an open hand in sign of love;
Else might I think that Clarence, Edward’s brother,
Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings:
But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
And now what rests but, in night’s coverture,
Thy brother being carelessly encamp’d,
His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
And but attended by a simple guard,
We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
Our scouts have found the adventure very easy:
That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus’ tents,
And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
So we, well cover’d with the night’s black mantle,
At unawares may beat down Edward’s guard
And seize himself; I say not, slaughter him,
For I intend but only to surprise him.
You that will follow me to this attempt,
Applaud the name of Henry with your leader. They all cry, “Henry!”
Why, then, let’s on our way in silent sort:
For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! Exeunt.
Edward’s camp, near Warwick.
Enter three Watchmen, to guard the King’s tent. First WatchmanCome on, my masters, each man take his stand:
The king by this is set him down to sleep.
Why, no; for he hath made a solemn vow
Never to lie and take his natural rest
Till Warwick or himself be quite suppress’d.
To-morrow then belike shall be the day,
If Warwick be so near as men report.
But say, I pray, what nobleman is that
That with the king here resteth in his tent?
O, is it so? But why commands the king
That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
While he himself keeps in the cold field?
Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
I like it better than a dangerous honour.
If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
’Tis to be doubted he would waken him.
Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent,
But to defend his person from night-foes?
This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
Courage, my masters! honour now or never!
But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
Comments (0)