Henry VI, Part III William Shakespeare (books to read to get smarter .TXT) š
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online Ā«Henry VI, Part III William Shakespeare (books to read to get smarter .TXT) šĀ». Author William Shakespeare
Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,
Which, by the heavensā 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!
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 usurpād,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancellād and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in Godās name, lords,
Be valiant and give signal to the fight. Alarum: Retreat: Excursions. Exeunt.
Another part of the field.
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Gloucester, Clarence, and soldiers; with Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, prisoners. King EdwardNow here a period of tumultuous broils.
Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight:
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
So part we sadly in this troublous world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward
Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak.
What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turnād me to?
Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York!
Suppose that I am now my fatherās mouth;
Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee,
Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
That you might still have worn the petticoat,
And neāer have stolān the breech from Lancaster.
Let Aesop fable in a winterās night;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
I know my duty; you are all undutiful:
Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George,
And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all
I am your better, traitors as ye are:
And thou usurpāst my fatherās right and mine.
Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother;
Iāll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!
They that stabbād Caesar shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by to equal it:
He was a man; this, in respect, a child:
And men neāer spend their fury on a child.
Whatās worse than murderer, that I may name it?
No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak:
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely croppād!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirrād up remorse:
But if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off
As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here;
Here sheathe thy sword, Iāll pardon thee my death:
What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.
Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself:
āTwas sin before, but now ātis charity.
What, wilt thou not? Where is that devilās butcher,
Hard-favourād Richard? Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed;
Petitioners for blood thou neāer putāst back.
To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
Heās sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence: discharge the common sort
With pay and thanks, and letās away to London
And see our gentle queen how well she fares:
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. Exeunt.
London. The Tower.
Enter King Henry and Gloucester, with the Lieutenant, on the walls. Gloucester Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard? King HenryAy, my good lord:ā āmy lord, I should say rather;
āTis sin to flatter; āgoodā was little better:
āGood Gloucesterā and āgood
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