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The Second Part of King Henry the Sixth

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SCENE V. London. The Tower

Enter LORD SCALES Upon the Tower, walking. Then enter two or three CITIZENS, below

 
  SCALES. How now! Is Jack Cade slain?
 

FIRST CITIZEN. No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they have won the bridge, killing all those that withstand them.

The Lord Mayor craves aid of your honour from the Tower, to defend the city from the rebels.

 
  SCALES. Such aid as I can spare you shall command,
    But I am troubled here with them myself;
    The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
    But get you to Smithfield, and gather head,
    And thither I will send you Matthew Goffe;
    Fight for your King, your country, and your lives;
    And so, farewell, for I must hence again. Exeunt
 

SCENE VI. London. Cannon street

Enter JACK CADE and the rest, and strikes his staff on London Stone

CADE. Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, sitting upon London Stone, I charge and command that, of the city's cost, the pissing conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign. And now henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls me other than Lord Mortimer.

Enter a SOLDIER, running

 
  SOLDIER. Jack Cade! Jack Cade!
 
 
  CADE. Knock him down there. [They kill him]
 

SMITH. If this fellow be wise, he'll never call ye Jack Cade more;

I think he hath a very fair warning.

DICK. My lord, there's an army gathered together in Smithfield.

CADE. Come then, let's go fight with them. But first go and set London Bridge on fire; and, if you can, burn down the Tower too.

Come, let's away. Exeunt

SCENE VII. London. Smithfield

Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE is slain, and all the rest. Then enter JACK CADE, with his company CADE. So, sirs. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to th' Inns of Court; down with them all.

DICK. I have a suit unto your lordship.

CADE. Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.

DICK. Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.

JOHN. [Aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law then; for he was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole yet.

SMITH. [Aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law; for his breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.

CADE. I have thought upon it; it shall be so. Away, burn all the records of the realm. My mouth shall be the Parliament of England.

JOHN. [Aside] Then we are like to have biting statutes, unless his teeth be pull'd out.

CADE. And henceforward all things shall be in common.

Enter a MESSENGER

MESSENGER. My lord, a prize, a prize! Here's the Lord Say, which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay one and twenty fifteens, and one shining to the pound, the last subsidy.

Enter GEORGE BEVIS, with the LORD SAY

CADE. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah, thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! Now art thou within point blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my Majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu the Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be us'd, and, contrary to the King, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear.

Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison, and because they could not read, thou hast hang'd them, when, indeed, only for that cause they have been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not?

SAY. What of that?

CADE. Marry, thou ought'st not to let thy horse wear a cloak, when honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets.

DICK. And work in their shirt too, as myself, for example, that am a butcher.

SAY. You men of Kent-

DICK. What say you of Kent?

SAY. Nothing but this: 'tis 'bona terra, mala gens.'

CADE. Away with him, away with him! He speaks Latin.

 
  SAY. Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
    Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
    Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle.
    Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
    The people liberal valiant, active, wealthy;
    Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
    I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy;
    Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
    Justice with favour have I always done;
    Pray'rs and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never.
    When have I aught exacted at your hands,
    But to maintain the King, the realm, and you?
    Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
    Because my book preferr'd me to the King,
    And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
    Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
    Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits
    You cannot but forbear to murder me.
    This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings
    For your behoof.
 

CADE. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?

SAY. Great men have reaching hands. Oft have I struck Those that I never saw, and struck them dead.

GEORGE. O monstrous coward! What, to come behind folks?

SAY. These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.

CADE. Give him a box o' th' ear, and that will make 'em red again.

SAY. Long sitting to determine poor men's causes Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.

CADE. Ye shall have a hempen caudle then, and the help of hatchet.

DICK. Why dost thou quiver, man?

SAY. The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.

CADE. Nay, he nods at us, as who should say 'I'll be even with you'; I'll see if his head will stand steadier on a pole, or no.

Take him away, and behead him.

 
  SAY. Tell me: wherein have I offended most?
    Have I affected wealth or honour? Speak.
    Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
    Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
    Whom have I injur'd, that ye seek my death?
    These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding,
    This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
    O, let me live!
 

CADE. [Aside] I feel remorse in myself with his words; but I'll bridle it. He shall die, an it be but for pleading so well for his life. – Away with him! He has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not o' God's name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike off his head presently, and then break into his son-in-law's house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring them both upon two poles hither.

 
  ALL. It shall be done.
  SAY. Ah, countrymen! if when you make your pray'rs,
    God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
    How would it fare with your departed souls?
    And therefore yet relent and save my life.
 

CADE. Away with him, and do as I command ye. [Exeunt some with LORD SAY] The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me her maidenhead ere they have it. Men shall hold of me in capite; and we charge and command that their wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell.

DICK. My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside, and take up commodities upon our bills?

CADE. Marry, presently.

ALL. O, brave!

Re-enter one with the heads

CADE. But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, for they lov'd well when they were alive. Now part them again, lest they consult about the giving up of some more towns in France.

Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city until night; for with these borne before us instead of maces will we ride through the streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away! Exeunt

SCENE VIII. Southwark

Alarum and retreat. Enter again CADE and all his rabblement CADE. Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! Kill and knock down! Throw them into Thames! [Sound a parley] What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to sound retreat or parley when I command them kill?

Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD, attended

 
  BUCKINGHAM. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee.
    And therefore yet relent, and save my life.
    Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the King
    Unto the commons whom thou hast misled;
    And here pronounce free pardon to them all
    That will forsake thee and go home in peace.
 
 
  CLIFFORD. What say ye, countrymen? Will ye relent
    And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you,
    Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths?
    Who loves the King, and will embrace his pardon,
    Fling up his cap and say 'God save his Majesty!'
    Who hateth him and honours not his father,
    Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,
    Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.
 
 
  ALL. God save the King! God save the King!
 

CADE. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave?

 

And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? Will you needs be hang'd with your about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the White Hart in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out these arms till you had recovered your ancient freedom. But you are all recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let them break your backs with burdens, take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one; and so God's curse light upon you all!

 
  ALL. We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade!
 
 
  CLIFFORD. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth,
    That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him?
    Will he conduct you through the heart of France,
    And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?
    Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;
    Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil,
    Unless by robbing of your friends and us.
    Were't not a shame that whilst you live at jar
    The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
    Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?
    Methinks already in this civil broil
    I see them lording it in London streets,
    Crying 'Villiago!' unto all they meet.
    Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry
    Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
    To France, to France, and get what you have lost;
    Spare England, for it is your native coast.
    Henry hath money; you are strong and manly.
    God on our side, doubt not of victory.
 

ALL. A Clifford! a Clifford! We'll follow the King and Clifford.

CADE. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me for here is no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have through the very middest of you! and heavens and honour be witness that no want of resolution in me, but only my followers' base and ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.

Exit

 
  BUCKINGHAM. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him;
    And he that brings his head unto the King
    Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.
 

Exeunt some of them

 
    Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean
    To reconcile you all unto the King. Exeunt
 

SCENE IX. Killing, worth Castle

Sound trumpets. Enter KING, QUEEN, and SOMERSET, on the terrace

 
  KING HENRY. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne
    And could command no more content than I?
    No sooner was I crept out of my cradle
    But I was made a king, at nine months old.
    Was never subject long'd to be a King
    As I do long and wish to be a subject.
 

Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD

 
  BUCKINGHAM. Health and glad tidings to your Majesty!
 
 
  KING HENRY. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpris'd?
    Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?
 

Enter, below, multitudes, with halters about their necks

 
  CLIFFORD. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield,
    And humbly thus, with halters on their necks,
    Expect your Highness' doom of life or death.
 
 
  KING HENRY. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!
    Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,
    And show'd how well you love your Prince and country.
    Continue still in this so good a mind,
    And Henry, though he be infortunate,
    Assure yourselves, will never be unkind.
    And so, with thanks and pardon to you all,
    I do dismiss you to your several countries.
 
 
  ALL. God save the King! God save the King!
 

Enter a MESSENGER

 
  MESSENGER. Please it your Grace to be advertised
    The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland
    And with a puissant and a mighty power
    Of gallowglasses and stout kerns
    Is marching hitherward in proud array,
    And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,
    His arms are only to remove from thee
    The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.
 
 
KING HENRY. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd;
    Like to a ship that, having scap'd a tempest,
    Is straightway calm'd, and boarded with a pirate;
    But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd,
    And now is York in arms to second him.
    I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him
    And ask him what's the reason of these arms.
    Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower-
    And Somerset, we will commit thee thither
    Until his army be dismiss'd from him.
 
 
  SOMERSET. My lord,
    I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
    Or unto death, to do my country good.
 
 
  KING HENRY. In any case be not too rough in terms,
    For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal
    As all things shall redound unto your good.
 
 
  KING HENRY. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;
    For yet may England curse my wretched reign.
 

Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE X. Kent. Iden's garden

Enter CADE

CADE. Fie on ambitions! Fie on myself, that have a sword and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now am I so hungry that, if I might have a lease of my life for a thousand years, I could stay no longer. Wherefore, on a brick wall have I climb'd into this garden, to see if I can eat grass or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet' was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my brain-pain had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time, when I have been dry, and bravely marching, it hath serv'd me instead of a quart-pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet' must serve me to feed on.

Enter IDEN

 
  IDEN. Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court
    And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
    This small inheritance my father left me
    Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.
    I seek not to wax great by others' waning
    Or gather wealth I care not with what envy;
    Sufficeth that I have maintains my state,
    And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.
 

CADE. Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave. Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the King by carrying my head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich and swallow my sword like a great pin ere thou and I part.

 
  IDEN. Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,
    I know thee not; why then should I betray thee?
    Is't not enough to break into my garden
    And like a thief to come to rob my grounds,
    Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,
    But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?
 

CADE. Brave thee? Ay, by the best blood that ever was broach'd, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five days, yet come thou and thy five men and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray God I may never eat grass more.

 
  IDEN. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,
    That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
    Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
    Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine;
    See if thou canst outface me with thy looks;
    Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;
    Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,
    Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;
    My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast,
    And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
    Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
    As for words, whose greatness answers words,
    Let this my sword report what speech forbears.
 

CADE. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard!

Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out the burly bon'd clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou mayst be turn'd to hobnails. [Here they fight; CADE falls] O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me. Let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost, and I'd defy them all. Wither, garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

 
  IDEN. Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
    Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed
    And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead.
    Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
    But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat
    To emblaze the honour that thy master got.
 

CADE. Iden, farewell; and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from me she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour. [Dies]

 
  IDEN. How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
    Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee!
    And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
    So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.
    Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
    Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave,
    And there cut off thy most ungracious head,
    Which I will bear in triumph to the King,
    Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. Exit
 

ACT V.

SCENE I. Fields between Dartford and Blackheath

Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours

 
  YORK. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right
    And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
    Ring bells aloud, burn bonfires clear and bright,
To entertain great England's lawful king.
    Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?
    Let them obey that knows not how to rule;
    This hand was made to handle nought but gold.
    I cannot give due action to my words
    Except a sword or sceptre balance it.
    A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul
    On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.
 

Enter BUCKINGHAM

 
    [Aside] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
    The King hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. York, if thou meanest well I greet thee well.
 
 
  YORK. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
    Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
    To know the reason of these arms in peace;
    Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
    Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
    Should raise so great a power without his leave,
    Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.
 
 
  YORK. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great.
    O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
    I am so angry at these abject terms;
    And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
    On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
    I am far better born than is the King,
    More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts;
    But I must make fair weather yet awhile,
    Till Henry be more weak and I more strong. -
    Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me
    That I have given no answer all this while;
    My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
    The cause why I have brought this army hither
    Is to remove proud Somerset from the King,
    Seditious to his Grace and to the state.
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. That is too much presumption on thy part;
    But if thy arms be to no other end,
    The King hath yielded unto thy demand:
    The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
 
 
  YORK. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
 
 
  YORK. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my pow'rs.
    Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
    Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
    You shall have pay and everything you wish.
    And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
    Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
    As pledges of my fealty and love.
    I'll send them all as willing as I live:
    Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have,
    Is his to use, so Somerset may die.
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. York, I commend this kind submission.
    We twain will go into his Highness' tent.
 

Enter the KING, and attendants

 
 
  KING HENRY. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
    That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
 
 
  YORK. In all submission and humility
    York doth present himself unto your Highness.
 
 
  KING HENRY. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?
 
 
  YORK. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
    And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
    Who since I heard to be discomfited.
 

Enter IDEN, with CADE's head

 
  IDEN. If one so rude and of so mean condition
    May pass into the presence of a king,
    Lo, I present your Grace a traitor's head,
    The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
 
 
  KING HENRY. The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!
    O, let me view his visage, being dead,
    That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
    Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?
 
 
  IDEN. I was, an't like your Majesty.
 
 
  KING HENRY. How art thou call'd? And what is thy degree?
 
 
  IDEN. Alexander Iden, that's my name;
    A poor esquire of Kent that loves his king.
 
 
  BUCKINGHAM. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
    He were created knight for his good service.
 
 
  KING HENRY. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels] Rise up a knight.
    We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
    And will that thou thenceforth attend on us.
 
 
  IDEN. May Iden live to merit such a bounty,
    And never live but true unto his liege!
 

Enter the QUEEN and SOMERSET

 
  KING HENRY. See, Buckingham! Somerset comes with th' Queen:
    Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.
 
 
  QUEEN. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,
    But boldly stand and front him to his face.
 
 
  YORK. How now! Is Somerset at liberty?
    Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts
    And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
    Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
    False king, why hast thou broken faith with me,
    Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
    King did I call thee? No, thou art not king;
    Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
    Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
    That head of thine doth not become a crown;
    Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
    And not to grace an 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 thy 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-bespotted 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 PLANTAGENET

 
See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good.
 

Enter 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 mistakes me much to think I do.
    To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad?
 
 
  KING HENRY. 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 berard in their chains,
    If thou dar'st 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 HENRY. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
    Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
    Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick 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 considered with myself
    The tide of this most renowned duke,
    And in my conscience do repute his Grace
    The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
 
 
  KING HENRY. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
 
 
  SALISBURY. I have.
 
 
  KING HENRY. 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 murd'rous 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 HENRY. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
 
 
  YORK. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
    I am resolv'd 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 resolv'd 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 berard 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