Plains near Tewksbury. |
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March. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers. |
Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, |
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. |
What though the mast be now blown over-board, |
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, |
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood? |
Yet lives our pilot still: is't meet that he |
Should leave the helm and like a fearful lad |
With tearful eyes add water to the sea, |
And give more strength to that which hath too much; |
Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock, |
Which industry and courage might have sav'd? |
Ah! what a shame! ah, what a fault were this. |
Say, Warwick was our anchor; what of that? |
And Montague our top-mast; what of him? |
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; what of these? |
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? |
And Somerset, another goodly mast? |
The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? |
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I |
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge? |
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep, |
But keep our course, though the rough wind say no, |
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack. |
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair. |
And what is Edward but a ruthless sea? |
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? |
And Richard but a ragged fatal rock? |
All those the enemies to our poor bark. |
Say you can swim; alas! 'tis but a while: |
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink: |
Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off, |
Or else you famish; that's a threefold death. |
This speak I, lords, to let you understand, |
In case some one of you would fly from us, |
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers |
More than with ruthless waves, with sands and rocks. |
Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided |
'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear. |
Prince. Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit |
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, |
Infuse his breast with magnanimity, |
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms. |
I speak not this, as doubting any here; |
For did I but suspect a fearful man, |
He should have leave to go away betimes, |
Lest in our need he might infect another, |
And make him of like spirit to himself. |
If any such be here, as God forbid! |
Let him depart before we need his help. |
Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage, |
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame. |
O brave young prince! thy famous grandfather |
Doth live again in thee: long mayst thou live |
To bear his image and renew his glories! |
Som. And he, that will not fight for such a hope, |
Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day, |
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at. |
Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset: sweet Oxford, thanks. |
Prince. And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else. |
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Enter a Messenger. |
Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand, |
Ready to fight; therefore be resolute. |
Oxf. I thought no less: it is his policy |
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided. |
Som. But he 's deceiv'd; we are in readiness. |
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart to see your forwardness. |
Oxf. Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge. |
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March. Enter, at a distance, KING EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, and Forces. |
K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood, |
Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your strength, |
Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night. |
I need not add more fuel to your fire, |
For well I wot ye blaze to burn them out: |
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords. |
Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say |
My tears gainsay; for every word I speak, |
Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes. |
Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign, |
Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd, |
His realm a slaughter house, his subjects slain, |
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent; |
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil. |
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords, |
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight. [Exeunt both armies. |
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