Henry VI, Part II, William Shakespeare [readict txt] 📗

awful princely sceptre.
That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles’ spear,
Is able with the change to kill and cure.
Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up
And with the same to act controlling laws.
Give place: by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
O’er him whom heaven created for thy ruler. Somerset

O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York,
Of capital treason ’gainst the king and crown:
Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.

York

Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these,
If they can brook I bow a knee to man.
Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail: Exit Attendant.
I know, ere they will have me go to ward,
They’ll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.

Queen

Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain,
To say if that the bastard boys of York
Shall be the surety for their traitor father. Exit Buckingham.

York

O blood-besotted Neapolitan,
Outcast of Naples, England’s bloody scourge!
The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father’s bail; and bane to those
That for my surety will refuse the boys!

Enter Edward and Richard. See where they come: I’ll warrant they’ll make it good. Enter old Clifford and his Son. Queen And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. Clifford Health and all happiness to my lord the king! Kneels. York

I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news with thee?
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look:
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

Clifford

This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistakest me much to think I do:
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?

King

Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
Makes him oppose himself against his king.

Clifford

He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his.

Queen

He is arrested, but will not obey;
His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.

York Will you not, sons? Edward Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. Richard And if words will not, then our weapons shall. Clifford Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! York

Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.
Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
That with the very shaking of their chains
They may astonish these fell-lurking curs:
Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

Enter the Earls of Warwick and Salisbury. Clifford

Are these thy bears? we’ll bait thy bears to death,
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou darest bring them to the baiting place.

Richard

Oft have I seen a hot o’er-weening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
Who, being suffer’d with the bear’s fell paw,
Hath clapp’d his tail between his legs and cried:
And such a piece of service will you do,
If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.

Clifford

Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

York Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon. Clifford Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves. King

Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
If it be banish’d from the frosty head,
Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourable age with blood?
Why art thou old, and want’st experience?
Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

Salisbury

My lord, I have consider’d with myself
The title of this most renowned duke;
And in my conscience do repute his grace
The rightful heir to England’s royal seat.

King Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me? Salisbury I have. King Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath? Salisbury

It is great sin to swear unto a sin,
But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin’s chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her custom’d right,
And have no other reason for this wrong
But that he was bound by a solemn oath?

Queen A subtle traitor needs no sophister. King Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. York

Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
I am resolved for death or dignity.

Clifford The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true. Warwick

You were best to go to bed and dream again,
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

Clifford

I am resolved to bear a greater storm
Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I’ll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.

Warwick

Now, by my father’s badge, old Nevil’s crest,
The rampant bear chain’d to the ragged staff,
This day I’ll wear aloft my burgonet,
As on a mountain top the cedar shows
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

Clifford

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

Young Clifford

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

Richard

Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite,
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.

Young Clifford Foul stigmatic, that’s more than thou canst tell. Richard If not in heaven, you’ll surely sup in hell. Exeunt severally. Scene II

Saint Alban’s.

Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick. Warwick

Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls:
And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air,
Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me:
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.

Enter York. How now, my noble lord! what, all afoot? York

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