Henry VI, Pt. 2
Act V, Scene 2
Battlefield at Saint Albans.
- Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick.
Earl of Warwick1 - 8
- Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls!
- And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
- Now when the angry trumpet sounds alarum,
- And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air,
- Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me.
- Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
- Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
- Enter York.
- How now, my noble lord? What, all afoot?
Duke of York9 - 12
- The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed;
- But match to match I have encount’red him,
- And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
- Even of the bonny beast he lov’d so well.
- Enter old Clifford.
Earl of Warwick13
- Of one or both of us the time is come.
Duke of York14 - 15
- Hold, Warwick; seek thee out some other chase,
- For I myself must hunt this deer to death.
Earl of Warwick16 - 18
- Then nobly, York, ’tis for a crown thou fight’st.
- As I intend, Clifford, to thrive today,
- It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail’d.
- Exit Warwick.
- What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?
Duke of York20 - 21
- With thy brave bearing should I be in love,
- But that thou art so fast mine enemy.
Lord Clifford22 - 23
- Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem,
- But that ’tis shown ignobly and in treason.
Duke of York24 - 25
- So let it help me now against thy sword,
- As I in justice and true right express it.
- My soul and body on the action both!
Duke of York27
- A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.
- They fight, and Clifford falls.
- La fin couronne les oeuvres.
Duke of York29 - 30
- Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
- Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!
- Enter Young Clifford.
Young Clifford31 - 66
- Shame and confusion! All is on the rout,
- Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
- Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
- Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
- Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
- Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
- He that is truly dedicate to war
- Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself
- Hath not essentially but by circumstance
- The name of valor.
- Sees his dead father.
- O, let the vile world end,
- And the premised flames of the last day
- Knit earth and heaven together!
- Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
- Particularities and petty sounds
- To cease! Wast thou ordain’d, dear father,
- To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
- The silver livery of advised age,
- And in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus
- To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight
- My heart is turn’d to stone; and while ’tis mine,
- It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
- No more will I their babes. Tears virginal
- Shall be to me even as the dew to fire,
- And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
- Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
- Henceforth I will not have to do with pity.
- Meet I an infant of the house of York,
- Into as many gobbets will I cut it
- As wild Medea young Absyrtus did;
- In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
- He takes him up on his back.
- Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford’s house:
- As did Aeneas old Anchises bear,
- So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
- But then Aeneas bare a living load—
- Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.
- Exit bearing off his father.
- Enter Richard and Somerset to fight.
- Somerset is killed under the sign of the Castle Inn.
Richard Plantagenet67 - 72
- So lie thou there;
- For underneath an alehouse’ paltry sign,
- The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset
- Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
- Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:
- Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.
- Excursions. Enter King, Queen, and others.
- Away, my lord! You are slow, for shame, away!
King Henry the Sixth74
- Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay.
Queen Margaret75 - 84
- What are you made of? You’ll nor fight nor fly.
- Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defense
- To give the enemy way, and to secure us
- By what we can, which can no more but fly.
- Alarum afar off.
- If you be ta’en, we then should see the bottom
- Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape
- (As well we may, if not through your neglect),
- We shall to London get, where you are lov’d,
- And where this breach now in our fortunes made
- May readily be stopp’d.
- Enter Young Clifford.
Young Clifford85 - 91
- But that my heart’s on future mischief set,
- I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly.
- But fly you must. Uncurable discomfit
- Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
- Away, for your relief! And we will live
- To see their day, and them our fortune give.
- Away, my lord, away!