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And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself,
away; Our army's ready; come, we'll after them. K. Hen. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me
speak. Q. Mar. Thou hast spoke too much already; get
K. Hen. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with
me? Q. Mar. Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies.
Prince. When I return with victory from the field, I'll see your grace : till then, I'll follow ber. Q. Mar. Come, son, away ; we may not linger
[Exeunt Queen Margaret, and the Prince. K. Hen. Poor queen! how love to me, and to her
SCENE II.-A room in Sandal Castle, near Wake
field, in Yorkshire. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE. Rich. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. Edw. No, I can better play the orator. Mont. But I have reasons strong and forcible.
Edw. No quarrel, but a slight contention.
The crown of England, father, which is yours.
York. Mine, boy? not till king Henry be dead. Rich. Your right depends not on his life, or death.
Edw. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, It will outrun you, father, in the end.
York. I took an oath, that he should quietly reign.
Edw. But, for a kingdom, any oath may be broken: I'd break a thousand oaths, to reign one year.
Rich. No; God forbid, your grace should be for
York. I shall be, if I claim by open war.
Rich. An oath is of no moment, being not took
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
York. Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.--
Enter a Messenger. But, stay; What news? Why com'st thou in such
post ? Mess. The queen, with all the northern earls and
lords, Intend bere to besiege you in She is hard by with twenty thousand men; And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. York. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou
that we fear them? Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;My brother Montague shall post to London ; Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, Whom we have left protectors of the king,
your castle :
With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: And thus most humbly I do take my leave. (Exit.
Enter Sir JOHN and Sir Hugh MORTIMER. York. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine
uncles ! You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; The
army of the queen mean to besiege us. Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in the
field. York. What, with five thousand men?
Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. A woman's general; What should we fear?
[A march afar off Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men in
order; And issue forth, and bid them battle straight. York. Five men to twenty!—though the odds be
SCENE III.--Plains near Sundal Castle. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Rutland and his
Tutor. Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes !
Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers. Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. As for the brat of this accursed duke, Whose father slew my father,-he shall die.
Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Tut. Ab, Clifford ! murder not this innocent child, Lest thou be hated both of God and man.
[Exit, forced off by Soldiers. Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes?-I'll open them.
Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch, That trembles under his devouring paws: And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey; And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat'ning look. Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die; I ain too mean a subject for thy wrath, Be thou reveng’d on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; my father's
blood Hath stopp'd the passage, where thy words should
enter. Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge sufficient for me ; No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves, And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. The sight of any of the house of York Is as a fury to torment my soul; And till I root out their accursed line, And leave not one alive, I live in hell. Therefore
[Lifting his hand. Rut. O, let me pray before I take my death: To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me!
Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords..