"To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, "Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, "How many years a mortal man may live. "So many days my ewes have been with young; "So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; "So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: "So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, "Pass'd over to the end they were created, "Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! "Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade "To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes, it doth; a thousand fold it doth. "And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds; "His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, "His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, "All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, "Is far beyond a prince's delicates, "His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, "When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him. Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his Father, dragging in the dead body. Son. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, May be possessed with some store of crowns; "And I, that haply take them from him now, May yet ere night yield both my life and them "To some man else, as this dead man doth me. Who's this?-O God! it is my father's face, Whom in this conflict I unawares have kill'd. O heavy times, begetting such events! From London by the king was I press'd forth: My father, being the earl of Warwick's man, Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; And I, who at his hands received my life, Have by my hands of life bereaved him. Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! "My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; And no more words, till they have flow'd their fill. K. Hen. O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! Whilst lions war, and battle for their dens, 'Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. Weep, wretched man! I'll aid thee tear for tear; "And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, "Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. Enter a Father who has killed his Son, with the body in his arms. Father. 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. But let me see :-is this our foeman's face? Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, Throw up thine eye; see, see, what showers arise, "Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, " Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart! O, pity, God, this miserable age! 'What stratagems,1 how fell, how butcherly, Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural, This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! K. Hen. Woe above woe! grief more than com mon grief! 'O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! O pity, pity, gentle Heaven, pity! The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colors of our striving houses: "The one, his purple blood right well resembles; "The other, his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth. Wither one rose, and let the other florish! Dreadful events. If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. Son. How will my mother, for a father's death, Take on with me, and ne'er be satisfied! Father. How will my wife, for slaughter of my son, Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied! 'K. Hen. How will the country, for these woful chances, Misthink the king, and not be satisfied! 'Son. Was ever son so rued a father's death? 'Father. Was ever father so bemoan'd a son? K. Hen. Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep [Exit, with the body. "Father. These arms of mine shall be thy my fill. winding-sheet; "My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre ; "For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go. " My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; "And so obsequious will thy father be, "Sad for the loss of thee, having no more, " As Priam was for all his valiant sons. I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, For I have murder'd where I should not kill. [Exit, with the body. 1 Think ill of. * Careful of obsequies, or funeral rites. 'K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much care, overgone with Here sits a king more woful than you are. Alarums. Excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE OF WALES, and EXETER. 'Prince. Fly, father, fly; for all your friends are fled, 'And Warwick rages like a chafed bull. 'Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain. • Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds, 'Having the fearful, flying hare in sight, With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath, And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, 'Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with them. Nay, stay not to expostulate; make speed; Or else come after I'll away before. · K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter ; 'Not that I fear to stay, but love to go • Whither the queen intends. Forward! away! [Exeunt. |