Drums. Some Soldiers of YORK's Party break in. Then enter the DUKE OF YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and others, with white roses in their hats. I Warwick. WONDER how the king escaped our hands. York. While we pursued the horsemen of the north, He slily stole away, and left his men : Whereat the great lord of Northumberland, Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, Lord Clifford, and lord Stafford, all abreast, Charged our main battle's front, and, breaking in, Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. Edw. Lord Stafford's father, duke of Buckingham, Is either slain or wounded dangerous : VOL. VIII. I cleft his beaver with a downright blow; [Showing his bloody sword. Mont. And, brother, here's the earl of Wiltshire's blood, [To YORK, showing his. Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did. [Throwing down the DUKE OF SOMERSET's head. York. Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But, is your grace dead, my lord of Somerset ? Norf. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! Rich. Thus do I hope to shake king Henry's head. War. And so do I, victorous prince of York. Before I see thee seated in that throne Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, I vow by heaven, these eyes shall never close. This is the palace of the fearful king, And this the regal seat: possess it, York; For this is thine, and not king Henry's heirs'. York. Assist me then, sweet Warwick, and I will; For hither we have broken in by force. Norf. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk,-stay by me, my lords;-- And, soldiers, stay, and lodge by me this night. War. And when the king comes offer him no violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. [They retire. York. The queen, this day, here holds her parliament, But little thinks we shall be of her council: War. The bloody parliament shall this be Unless Plantagenet, duke of York, be king, York. Then leave me not, my lords; be reso lute; I mean to take possession of my right. War. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, Dares stir a wing if Warwick shake his bells. I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares :Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. [WARWICK leads YORK to the throne, who seats himself. Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUмBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and others, with red roses in their hats. K. Hen. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, Even in the chair of state! belike, he means To aspire unto the crown, and reign as king. On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends. West. What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down : My heart for anger burns, I cannot brook it. K. Hen. Be patient, gentle earl of Westmoreland. Clif. Patience is for poltroons, and such as he; He durst not sit there had your father lived. My gracious lord, here in the parliament Let us assail the family of York. North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin : be it so. K. Hen. Ah, know you not the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? Exe. But when the duke is slain they'll quickly fly. K. Hen. Far be the thought of this from To make a shambles of the parliament-house! York. I am thine. Exe. For shame, come down; he made thee duke of York. York. It was my inheritance, as the earldom was. Exe. Thy father was a traitor to the crown. War. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown, In following this usurping Henry. Clif. Whom should he follow but his natural king? War. True, Clifford ; and that's Richard, duke of York. K. Hen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? York. It must and shall be so. Content thyself. War. Be duke of Lancaster, let him be king. West. He is both king and duke of Lancaster; And that the lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget That we are those which chased you from the field, And slew your fathers, and with colours spread March'd through the city to the palace gates. North. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger War. Poor Clifford ! how I scorn his worthless threats! York. Will you we show our title to the crown? If not, cur swords shall plead it in the field. K. Hen. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? Thy father was, as thou art, duke of York; Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop, War. Talk not of France, sith thou has lost it all. |