Som. O monftrous traitor! I arreft thee, York, Of capital treafon 'gainst the King and crown; Obey, audacious traitor, kneel for grace.

York. Sirrah, call in my fons to be my bail:
Would't have me kneel? first, let me ask of them,
If they can brook I bow a knee to man.

I know, ere they will let me go to ward,
They'll pawn their fwords for my enfranchisement.
Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford, bid him come amain,
To fay, if that the baftard boys of York
Shall be the furety for their traitor father.
York. O blood-befpotted Neapolitan,
Out-caft of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
The fons of York, thy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father's bail, and bane to those
That for my furety will refufe the boys.

Enter Edward Plantagenet and Richard Plantagenet. See where they come, I'll warrant they'll make it good. Enter Clifford.

Q. Mar. And here comes Clifford, to deny their bail. Clif. Health and all happinefs to my Lord the King! York. I thank thee, Clifford; fay, what news with thee? Nay, do not fright me with an angry look:

We are thy Sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking fo, we pardon thee.

Clif. This is my King, York, I do not mistake,
But thou miftak'ft me much to think I do;
To Bedlam with him, is the man grown mad?

K. Henry, Ay, Clifford, a Bedlam and ambitious humour
Makes him oppofe himself againft his King.
Clif. He is a traitor, let him to the Tower,
And crop away that factious pate of his.

M 4

1 Would't have me kneel? firft let me ask of these

If they can brook I bow a knee to man.

Q. Mar.

Sirrah, call in my fons to be my bail: ... old edit. Warb, tranf.

Q. Mar. He is arrested, but will not obey: His fons, he says, fhall give their words for him.' York. Will you not, fons?

E. Plan. Ay, noble father, if our words will ferve. R. Plan And if words will not, then our weapons fhall. Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! York. Look in a glafs, and call thy image fo. I am the King, and thou a falfe-heart traitor; Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, a That with the very fhaking of their chains They may aftonifh thefe feil-lurking curs: Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick.

Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death, And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,

If thou dar'it bring them to the baiting-place.

R. Plan. Oft have I feen a hot o'er-weening cur
• Turn back and bite, because he was with-held,
Who being fuffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapt his tail betwixt his legs and cry'd:
And fuch a piece of fervice will you do,

If you oppofe your felves to match Lord Warwick.
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners, as thy shape.

York. Nay, we fhall heat you thoroughly anon.
Clif. Take heed left by your heat you burn your felves.
K. Henry. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
Old Salisbury, fhame to thy filver hair,

Thou mad mif-leader of thy brain-fick son,

What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And feek for forrow with thy fpectacles?
Oh, where is faith? oh, where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd from the frofty head,

Where

(a) Alluding to the Nevils' creft which was the Bear and ragged ftaff.

Where fhall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And fhame thine honourable age with blood?
Why art thou old, and want'ft experience?
Or wherefore doft abuse it, if thou haft it?
For fhame, in duty bend thy knee to me,
That bows unto the grave with milky age.
Sal. My Lord, I have confider'd with
The title of this most renowned Duke,
And in my confcience do repute his Grace
The rightful Heir to England's royal feat.
K. Henry. Haft thou not fworn allegiance unto me?

my felf

Sal. I have. [oath? K. Henry. Canft thou dispense with heav'n for fuch an Sal. It is great fin to fwear unto a fin; But greater fin to keep a finful oath: Who can be bound by any folemn vow To do a murd'rous deed, to rob a man, To force a fpotlefs virgin's chastity, To 'reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her cuftom'd right, And have no other reafon for his wrong, But that he was bound by a folemn oath?

Q. Mar. A fubtle traitor needs no fophifter. K. Henry. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. York. Call Buckingham and all the friends thou haft, I am refolv'd for death or dignity.

Old Clif. The firft, I warrant thee; if dreams prove true. War. You were beft go to bed and dream again,

To keep thee from the tempeft of the field.
Old Clif. I am refolv'd to bear a greater ftorm
Than any thou can't conjure up to-day:
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy houfe's badge.
War. Now by my father's badge, old Nevil's creft,
The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
(As on a mountain-top the cedar fhews,

That

That keeps his leaves in fpight of any storm)
Ev'n to affright thee with the view thereof.
Old Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear,
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Defpight the bear-ward that protects the bear.
2. Clif. And fo to arms, victorious noble father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.

R. Plan. Fie, charity for fhame, fpeak not in fpight, For you shall fup with Jefu Chrift to-night.

tell. r. Clif. Foul ftigmatick, that's more than thou can'it R. Plan. If not in heav'n, you'll furely fup in hell.· [Exeunt.

War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls;

And if thou doft not hide thee from the bear,

Now when the angry trumpet founds alarum,
And dying mens eries do fill the empty air,
Clifford, I fay, come forth and fight with me,
Proud northern Lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarfe with calling thee to arms.

Enter York.

War. How now, my noble Lord? what all a-foot?
York. The deadly-handed Clifford flew my fteed:
But match to match I have encountred him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beaft he lov'd fo well.

Enter Clifford..

War. Of one or both of us the time is come.

York. Hold, Warwick: feek thee out fome other chase,

For I my felf muft hunt this deer to death.

War.

War. Then nobly, York! 'tis for a crown thou fight'ft: As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,

It grieves my foul to leave thee unaffail'd.

[Exit Warwick. Clif. What feeft thou in me, York? why doft thou pause? York. With thy brave bearing fhould I be in love, But that thou art fo faft mine enemy.

Clif. Nor fhould thy prowefs want praise and efteem, But that 'tis fhewn ignobly, and in treafon.

York. So let it help me now against thy fword,

As I in justice and true right express it!

Clif. My foul and body on the action both!

York. A dreadful lay, addrefs thee inftantly.

Clif. La fin couronne les auvres.

[Fight.

[Dies.

York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art ftill;

Peace with his foul, heav'n, if it be thy will!

Enter young Clifford.

r. Clif. Shame and confufion! all is on the rout:
Fear frames diforder, and diforder wounds
Where it fhould guard. O war! thou son of hell,
Whom angry heav'ns do make their minifter,
Throw in the frozen bofoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance: Let no foldiers Aly.
He that is truly dedicate to war

Hath no felf-love; for he that loves himself
Hath not effentially, but by circumstance,
The name of valour.O let the vile world end,

And the premised flames of the laft day
Knit earth and heav'n together!

[Seeing bis Father.

Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty founds

To cease! Waft thou ordained, O dear father,
To lofe thy youth in peace, and to atchieve
The filver livery of advised age;

And in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus
To die in ruffian battle? Even at this fight

My