Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and Children of fo high a Courage,
And Warriors faint! why 'twere perpetual Shame.
Oh brave young Prince! thy famous Grandfather
Doth live again in thee; long may'ft thou live,
To bear his Image, and renew his Glories.
Som. And he that will not fight for fuch a Hope,
Go home to Bed, and like the Owl by Day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Queen. Thanks, gentle Somerfet, fweet Oxford thanks.
Prim. And take his Thanks, that yet hath nothing else.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Prepare you, Lords, for Edward is at hand, Ready to fight; therefore be refolute.

Oxf. I thought no lefs; it is his Policy, To hafte thus faft, to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness

Queen. This chears my Heart, to fee your forwardness Oxf. Here pitch our Battel, hence we will not budge. March. Enter King Edward, Glocefter, Clarence, and Soldiers.

K. Edw. Brave Followers, yonder ftands the thorny
Wood,

Which, by the Heav'ns Affiftance, and your Strength,
Muft, by the Roots, be hewn up yet ere Night.

I need not add more Fuel to your Fire,.

For well I wot, ye blaze, to burn them out:
Give Signal to the Fight, and to it, Lords.

Queen. Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I fhould

fay,

My Tears gain-fay; for every word I fpeak,

Ye fee I drink the Water of my Eye:

Therefore, no more but this; Henry, your Sovereign,
Is Prifoner to the Foe, his State ufurp'd,"
His Realm a Slaughter-houfe, his Subjects flain,
His Statues cancell'd, and his Treafure fpent:
And yonder is the Wolf, that makes this Spoil.

You

You fight in Juftice: Then in God's Name, Lords,
Be valiant, and give Signal to the Fight.

Alarum, Retreat, Excursions.

Enter King Edward, Glocefter, Clarence, &c. The Queen,
Oxford, and Somerset Prisoners.

K. Edw. Now here's a Period of tumultuous Broils.
Away with Oxford to Hammes Caftle ftraight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty Head.

Go bear them hence, I will not hear them fpeak.
Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.
Som. Nor I, but ftoop with Patience to my Fortune.

[Exeunt. Queen. So part we fadly in this troublous World, To meet with Joy in fweet Jerufalem.

K. Edw. Is Proclamation made, That who finds Ed ward

Shall have a high Reward, and he his Life?

Glo. It is, and lo where youthful Edward comes.

Enter the Prince of Wales.

K. Edw. Being forth the Gallant, let us hear him fpeak; What? can fo young a Thorn begin to prick? Edward, what Satisfaction canft thou make, For bearing Arms, for ftirring up my Subjects, And all the Trouble thou haft turn'd me to? Prince. Speak like a Subject, proud ambitious York. Suppofe that I am now my Father's Mouth, Refign thy Chair, and where I ftand, kneel thou, Whilft I propose the self-fame words to thee, Which, Traitor, thou would't have me anfwer to. Queen. Ah! That thy Father had been fo refolv'd. Glo. That you might still have worn the Petticoat, And ne'er have ftoln the Breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let fop Fable in a Winter's Night, His Currifh Riddles fort not with his place. Glo. By Heaven, Brat, I'll plague ye for that word. Queen. Ay, thou waft born to be a Plague to Men. Gle. For God's fake, take away this captive Scold.

Prince.

Prince. Nay, take away this fcolding Crook-back, rather,
K. Edw. Peace, wilful Boy, or I will charm your Tongue,
Cla. Untutor'd Lad, thou art toe malapert.

Prince. I know my Duty, you are all undutiful:
Lafcivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,
And thou mif-fhapen Dick, I tell ye all,

I am your better, Traitors as ye are.

And thou ufurp'ft my Father's Right and mine.
K.Edw. Take that, thou likeness of this Railer here.

[Stabs him.

Glo. Sprawl'ft thou? take that, to end thy Agony.

[Rich. ftabs him.

Clar. And there's for twitting me with Perjury.

[Clar. fabs him.

[Offers to kill her.

Queen. Oh, kill me too! Glo. Marry, and fhall. {K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done too much. Gla. Why fhould the live, to fill the World with words? K. Edw. What? doth the fwoon? ufe Means for her Re covery.

Glo. Clarence, excufe me to the King my Brother: I'll hence to London on a ferious Matter,

Ere ye come there, be sure to hear fome News.

Clar. What? what?

Glo. Tower, the Tower.

[Exit:

Queen. Oh, Ned, fweet Ned, fpeak to thy Mother, Boy.

Can't thou not fpeak? O Traitors, Murderers!
They that ftabb'd Cafar, fhed no Blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy Blame,
If this foul Deed were by, to equal it.
He was a Man; this (in refpect) a Child,
And Men ne'er fpend their Fury on a Child.
What's worse than Murtherer, that I may name it?
No, no, my Heart will burft, and if I fpeak-
And I will speak, that fo my Heart may
Butchers and Villains, bloody Cannibals,
How sweet a Plant have you untimely cropt:
You have no Children, Butchers; if you had,
The thought of them would have ftirr'd up Remorfe;

burft.

But

But if you ever chance to have a Child,
Look in his Youth to have him fo cut off,
As deathfmen you have rid this fweet
young Prince.
K.Edw. Away with her, go bear her hence by force.
Queen. Nay, never bear me hence, difpatch me here:
Here fheath thy Sword, I'll pardon thee my Death:
What? wilt thou not? then Clarence do it thou.

Clar. By Heav'n, I will not do thee fo much Eafe.
Queen. Good Clarence do, fweet Clarence do thou do it?
Clar. Did'ft thou not hear me fwear I would not do it?
Queen. Ay, but thou useft to forfwear thy felf:
"Twas Sin before, but now 'tis Charity.

What, wilt thou not? where is that Devil's Butcher, Richard,
Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou ?
Thou art not here: Murther is thy Almfdeed.
Petitioner for Blood thou ne'er pull'ft back.

K. Edw. Away, I fay, I charge ye bear her hence.
Queen. So come to you and yours, as to this Prince.
[Exit Queen

K. Edw. Where's Richard gone?

Cla. To London all in poft, and as I guess,
To make a bloody Supper in the Tower.

K. Edw. He's fudden, if a thing comes in his Head.
Now march we hence, difcharge the common fort
With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And fee our gentle Queen how well the fares.
By this, I hope, the hath a Son for me.

[Exeunt.

Enter King Henry, and Glocefter, with the Lieutenant on the Tower Walls.

Glo. Good day, my Lord; what at your Book fo hard? K.Henry. Ay, my good Lord; my Lord, I should say rather, 'Tis fin to flatter, Good was little better:

Good Glofter, and good Devil, were alike,
And both prepofterous; therefore, not Good Lord.
Glo. Sirrah, leave us to our felves, we must confer.

[Exit Lieutenant. K.Henry. So flies the wreaklefs Shepherd from the Wolf,

So firft the harmlefs Flock doth yield his Fleece,

And

And next his Throat unto the Butcher's Knife.
What Scene of Death hath Roffius now to act?
Glo. Sufpicion always haunts the guilty Mind,
The Thief doth fear cach Bufh an Officer.

K. Henry. The Bird that hath been limed in a Bufh,
With trembling Wings mifdoubteth every Bush;
And I, the hapless Male to one fweet Bird,
Have now the fatal Object in my Eye,

Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught and kill'd.
Glo. Why what a peevifh Fool was that of Creet,
That taught his Son the Office of a Fowl?

And yet, for all his Wings, the Fool was drown'd.
K. Henry. I, Dedalus; my poor Boy, Icarus;

Thy Father, Minos, that deny'd our Courfe;
The Sun that fear'd the Wings of my fweet Boy,
Thy Brother Edward; and thy felf, the Sea,
Whofe envious Gulf did fwallow up his Life:
Ah, kill me with thy Weapon, not with Words,
My Breaft can better brook thy Dagger's Point,
Than can my Ears that tragick Hiftory.

But wherefore doft thou come? Is't for my Life?
Glo. Think'st thou I am an Executioner?
K. Henry. A Perfecutor I am fure thou art;
If murthering Innocents be Executing,

Why then thou art an Executioner.

Glo. Thy Son I kill'd for his Prefumption.

K.Henry. Hadft thou been kill'd when firft thou didst prefume,

Thou hadft not liv'd to kill a Son of mine:

And thus I prophefie, that many a thousand,
Which now miftruft no parcel of my Fear,
And many an old Man's Sigh, and many, a Widow's,
And many an Orphan's water-ftanding Eye,
Men for their Sons, Wives for their Husbands fate,
And Orphans for their Parents timeless Death,
Shall rue the Hour that ever thou waft born.
The Owl fhriek'd at thy Birth, an evil fign,
The Night-Crow cry'd, aboding luckless time,
Dogs howl'd, and hideous Tempel hook down Trees;

The