My sovereign liege, no letters; and few words. Then let my father's blood open it again: He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. Like men born to renown by life or death. A crown for York! Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. Wasn't it you who said you would be the king of England? Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well; The common people by numbers swarm to us. and give no foot of ground!' Nay, stay, Sir John, awhi le, and we'll debate. And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury; And were I strong, I would not shun their fury. That hath authority over him that swears: Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose. Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: They took his head, and on the gates of York. They urge him to enjoy the throne now, for Henry shall surely outlive York. Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort: For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! would I had died a maid. His father revell'd in the heart of France. You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords. The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? How could you drain the blood of a child and make the father wipe his eyes with it, and still appear to have a woman's face? PDFs of modern translations of every Shakespeare play and poem. Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God!My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope. Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. What! Panic so I can sing and dance! A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle. Who thunders to his captives blood and death. For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge? But how is it that great Plantagenet Is crowned so soon and broke his solemn oath? Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood. My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee. NORTHUMBERLAND and CLIFFORD grab YORK. Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love. [Alarum. Well guess'd, believe me; for that was my meaning. Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just. YORK. Methought he bore him in the thickest troop. With bootless labour swim against the tide. Wanton: Wild A Lancaster! Where are your mess of sons to back you now? And don't let your feet touch the ground!" Ah, what a shame! I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. Actually understand Henry VI, Part 3 Act 1, Scene 4. Ah, what a shame were this! And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here. Hold, Clifford! Methinks these peers of France should smile at that. Why come you not? Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice. Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: He, but a duke, would have his son a king. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right. If your face wasn't like a unchanging mask, hardened by your evil deeds, I would attempt, proud queen, to make you blush. This is his tent; and see where stand his guard. What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, 56 For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow. Therefore, to arms! speak to thy mother, boy! Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward. Off with his head, and put it on the gates of York, so that York's head may look over the town of York. 'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: 'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; 'Tis government that makes them seem divine; How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child. Hence with him to the Tower; let him not speak. Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame. The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt. Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! Nothing you torment me with can bother me now. You, that are king, though he do wear the crown. O tigers heart wrappd in a womans hide! My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the king. Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. An yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd. wilt thou kneel for grace. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body, Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body, Alarums: excursions. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st. I am his king, and he should bow his knee; Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear. The army of the queen hath got the field: Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind. And all at once, once more a happy farewell. was it you that would be England's king? Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. Shall be my winding-sheet. Stamp your foot, rant, and panic, so I can sing and dance. Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; Change shapes with Proteus for advantages. if you had. Is crownd so soon and broke his solemn oath? And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do. Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears. With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush; And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird. Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance. Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? And if you can cry for his death, I'll offer you this napkin to dry your cheeks with. Look, York, I stained this napkin with the blood That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point Made issue from the bosom of the boy; And if thine eyes can water for his death, I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. Or than for strength and safety of our country. Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George. For shame! Why, trow'st thou, Warwick. I thought it would have mounted. My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: But this I know, they have demean'd themselves Like men born to renown by life or death. 52 Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. Your father bears the title of the King of Naples, ruling over Sicily and Jerusalem, too, yet he is not as rich as an English landowner. Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power. Where did you dwell when I was King of England? To set the crown once more on Henry's head: Guess thou the rest; King Edward's friends must down, For trust not him that hath once broken faith,--. That's how cowards fight when they can no longer run away. Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis. Like men born to renown by life or death. Do you want me to cry? Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. Richard and Hastings: let them go; here is The duke. for he'll. Torment myself to catch the English crown: And from that torment I will free myself. multitudes, and fear? Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? Now, for a while farewell, good Duke of York. With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? then, Clarence, do it thou. So true men yield, with robbers so oermatchd. Where are your mess of sons to back you now? As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence? What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn. is he dead already? And joy that thou becomest King Henry's friend. Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too. Revenged may she be on that hateful duke. And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. Come on, brave soldiers: doubt not of the day. I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king. It's usually virtue that makes women admired, but it's the opposite of virtue that makes people stare at you. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; See, see! Father of Warwick, know you what this means? Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I. Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his. For a thousand causes. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York. Why come you not? Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. It's not necessary, and it doesn't do you any good, proud queen, unless the old saying proves true that, beggars on horseback will drive their horses to death. And many an old man's sigh and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye--. Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. fear not, man, but yield me up the keys; For Edward will defend the town and thee. March. Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told. O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent. And their true sovereign, whom they must obey? Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); Our 9x sold out online acting course returns soon. So long as Edward is thy constant friend. Shall be the war that Henry means to use. My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: But this I know, they have demean'd themselves. That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France. Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee. Oh, Clifford, use your brain once again, and think over the life I have lived. Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: And, for the time shall not seem tedious. I blame not her, she could say little less; She had the wrong. See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, And I with tears do wash the blood away. They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward. When he might spurn him with his foot away? He proudly replies to the Queen, reproaching her for her cruelty, and his tears for his dead son move even Northumberland. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along. And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death. Because he would avoid such bitter taunts. Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, But set his murdering knife unto the root. More than I seem, and less than I was born to: A man at least, for less I should not be; And men may talk of kings, and why not I? Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth - bartleby Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the rest. That not a tear can fall for Rutlands death? And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. Amazing background with great controls make the Brave . Earl of Northumberland. But keep our course, though the rough wind say no. I should not for my life but weep with him. A crown for York! Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers. Richard and Edward ask their father about the crown, which York says they shall receive when Henry dies. My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. History of Henry VI, Part III (1590-2) - Shakespeare Network Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, come! Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; My brother Montague shall post to London: Whom we have left protectors of the king. No, God forbid that I should wish them sever'd, Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 'twere pity. why, now thou hast thy will: For raging wind blows up incessant showers. Oh, poor York! But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret? She brings an army to fight against York, and they capture him at the Battle of Wakefield. But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide. And set the murderous Machiavel to school. Look, York. And would you not do much to do them good? His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade. Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; For by that loss I will not purchase them. Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner, Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard. High Descent: Important Ancestors Wast you that revelld in our parliament. We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates; Ah, froward Clarence! dare you speak? About that which concerns your grace and us; The crown of England, father, which is yours. With Clifford and the haught Northumberland. I stained this napkin with the blood that brave Clifford got from your son's chest with his sword. RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Duke of York. To sunder them that yoke so well together. As good to chide the waves as speak them fair. A crown for York! My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. [To WARWICK] My lord ambassador, these letters are for you. To entail him and his heirs unto the crown. Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure. how I scorn his worthless threats! what hope of good? Tis government that makes them seem divine. And all his lands and goods be confiscate. Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York. Why faint you, lords? Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. I was the chief that raised him to the crown. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf; So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece. I,1,232. The king was slily finger'd from the deck! And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy. Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. If I didn't hate you so much, I would feel sorry that you're in such bad shape. But that the next heir should succeed and reign. That Henry liveth still: but were he dead. Unmerciful Clifford, take me away from this world! Not even hungry cannibals would have touched Rutland's face or stained it with blood. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me. Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: So do I wish the crown, being so far off; And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much. Heres for my oath, heres for my fathers death. Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words. To carve out dials quaintly, point by point. Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years. Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false Frenchwoman. To seek to put me down and reign thyself. A crown for York! Henry VI Part 3 (1923) Yale/Text/Act I - Wikisource, the free online With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! I'll never pause again, never stand still, Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine. Forward; away! You are stern, stubborn, hard, violent and without remorse. You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. Hey! and give no foot of ground!' And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? These enemies who want to kill me are after me. The previous two instalments of this trilogy document the beginning and ongoing long and bloody civil war between the houses of York and Lancaster. do not honour him so much. O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. Before the king will grant her humble suit. Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid; And if thou fail us, all our hope is done: Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help; Our people and our peers are both misled. Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve. Yea, brother of Clarence, are thou here too? Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. And as for you yourself, our quondam queen. And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's. So cowards fight when they can fly no further; So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives. What will your grace have done with Margaret? This way, my lord; for this way lies the game. With downright payment showd unto my father. Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea. What, was it you that would be Englands king? Who should that be? I am inform'd that he comes towards London. Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. For choosing me when Clarence is in place. And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. War. Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love; Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother. Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence. I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture. Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: But you are more inhuman, more inexorable. The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost. To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided. And that's how desperate thieves, with no chance of being saved, shout out insults against the officers who arrest them. First, to do greetings to thy royal person; With a nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant. And with dishonour laid me on the ground; Where I must take like seat unto my fortune. That beggars mounted run their horse to death. Where is your quartet of sons now? Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. but that I hate thee deadly. Nothing you torment me with can bother me now. It is so unattractive when women, likeAmazonian whores, rejoice in the misery of men brought down by fortune. Your right depends not on his life or death. I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aside. Stand we in good array; for they no doubt. Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head. Come, make him stand upon this molehill here. But how is it possible that the great Plantagenet has crowned so quickly? The wild Edward, and the lustful George? I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: That this is true, father, behold his blood. Welcome, brave Warwick! what shouts are these? It can be really easy to fall into playing the bad gal, or the evil queen in this speech. such entertainment unless you've been paid. Say you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while! That if our queen and this young prince agree, I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy. And don't let your feet touch the ground!" For I have murdered where I should not kill. Speaking of, if you can, I would highly recommend understanding the journey of this character by reading parts 1 and 2 of Henry VI. or is it fear. I will not hence, till, with my talk and tears, Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold. Great Albion's queen in former golden days: But now mischance hath trod my title down. And to that end I shortly mind to leave you. Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy. Which He hath given for fence impregnable. And made an evening at the noontide prick. Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. What, hath thy fiery heart so parchd thine entrails. This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged. Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, Come, make him (the Duke of York) stand upon this molehill here, That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. Nay, stay, lets hear the orisons he makes. Come, make him stand upon this molehill here. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER, Alarum and retreat. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends. Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! For who lived king, but I could dig his grave? My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend. My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns: What danger or what sorrow can befall thee. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. And if you cry over his death Ill give this hanky to dry them. Whose father bears the title of a king,--, As if a channel should be call'd the sea,--. But, sad to say, we were overwhelmed again. And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick? And in thy thought oerrun my former time; And if thou canst for blushing, view this face, And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice. Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver. What, shall we suffer this? [To soldiers] Off with the crown, and with it, off with his head. So doves do peck the falcons piercing talons. That would be ten days' wonder at the least. And made an evening at the noontide prick. 'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage. At that moment a messenger arrives to tell them all that Margeret and her army are about to attack. The raging wind blows rain showers up into the air, but when the wind calms down, the rain begins to fall. The red rose and the white are on his face. Why come you not? what hap? Wasnt it you who had a tantrum in halls of our parliament And when the strongest warriors were falling and fleeing, Richard still shouted, "Charge! As I bethink me, you should not be king Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death. That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood. For love of Edward's offspring in my womb: And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross; And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs, Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown. thou shouldst be mad; And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. My title's good, and better far than his. What! Do right unto this princely Duke of York. , that cheered up his dad with his grumbly voice during the fight? Preachment: Sermon/Lecture Yes, we'll show him as much mercy as he showed my father when he brought his sword down on him in one fatal sword-stroke. Lord Clifford. See how the morning opes her golden gates. And when the rage allays, the rain begins. In blood of those that had encounter'd him: And when the hardiest warriors did retire, Richard cried 'Charge! Sound drums and trumpets! The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay. But why come you in arms? now arms must rule. [Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.--. Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! Why stand we like soft-hearted women here. and give no foot of ground!'. Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! I shame to hear thee speak. Is't meet that he, Should leave the helm and like a fearful lad. Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. The thief doth fear each bush an officer. Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief; It shall be eased, if France can yield relief. Tell me for truth the measure of his love, Myself have often heard him say and swear. thy famous grandfather, Doth live again in thee: long mayst thou live. And if thou tellst the heavy story right. All speeches (lines) for Queen Margaret in "Henry VI, Part III Richard tried to get to me three times, and three times he shouted, "Courage, father! Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: May it please your highness to resolve me now; And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. It is war's prize to take all vantages; And ten to one is no impeach of valour. I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. For strokes received, and many blows repaid. How well resembles it the prime of youth. But that thy face is, visor-like, unchanging. You can keep the napkin and go boast of my murder. If friend or foe, let him be gently used. I dare you to increase your unsatisfied fury to even more rage. But most himself, if he could see his shame. A crown for York! King Henry VI, Third Part by William Shakespeare [Rolfe edition] Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: No bending knee will call thee Caesar now. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. You're a French she-wolf, but worse than French wolves, since your tongue is more poisonous than the tooth of a venomous snake. Is Lewis so brave? No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak: And I will speak, that so my heart may burst. Till then fair hope must hinder life's decay. York can't speak unless he wears a crown. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd. Bids't thou me rage? and, lords, bow low to him. You should be going crazy! With bootless labor swim against the tide. And will you wear Henry's glory, stealing the crown from off his head while he's still alive, despite your holy promise? Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends. To cross me from the golden time I look for! My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; For selfsame wind that I should speak withal. Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. In war, you get to take everything you can. Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down. That taught his son the office of a fowl! LEWIS XI, King of France. What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails. They mock him, falling from so high an ambition, and torment him with Rutlands death, placing a paper crown on his head. Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. The sands in the hourglass of my life are running out. Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. SCENE II. Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. From London by the king was I press'd forth; My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men. I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks. Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend. And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. Hold, valiant Clifford! How many children hast thou, widow? Where are your mess of sons to back you now? History of Henry VI, Part III (Act 1, Scene 4) | The William That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds. see where Oxford comes! Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland. Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry. You are the king King Edward hath deposed; And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance. Ay, what of that? And when the hardiest warriors did retire, Richard cried 'Charge! if God's good will were so; For what is in this world but grief and woe? Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. Henry VI, Part III - standardebooks.org Thy father bears the type of King of Naples. I am commanded, with your leave and favour, Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue. Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee. See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy. I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth. Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. I will not bandy with thee word for word. [Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain, [Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! I long till Edward fall by war's mischance. Has your fiery heart dried up your insides so much that you can't even shed one tear for Rutland's death? The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. Which industry and courage might have saved? Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.