Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that flew him?
Iden. I was, an't like your Majesty.

K. Henry. How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?
Iden. Ev'n Alexander Iden, that's my name,
A poor Efquire of Kent that loves the King.

Buck. So please it you, my Lord, 'twere not amiss He were created Knight for his good service.

K. Henry. Iden, kneel down; and rise thou up a Knight: We give thee for reward a thousand marks, And will that thou henceforth attend on us. Iden. May Iden live to merit fuch a bounty, And never live but true unto his Liege! SCENE III.

Enter Queen Margaret and Somerset. K.Henry.See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the Queen; Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.

Q. Mar. For thoufand Yorks he fhall not hide his head, But boldly ftand and front him to his face.

York. How now? is Somerfet at liberty?
Then, York, unloofe thy long imprisoned thoughts,
And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
Shall I endure the fight of Somerset ?

Falfe King, why haft thou broken faith with me,
Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
King did I call thee? no, thou art no King:
Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,

Which dar'ft not, no, nor canft not rule a traitor.
That head of thine doth not become a crown:
Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
And not to grace an awful princely fcepter.
That gold muft round engirt thefe brows of mine,
Whose smile and frown (like to Achilles' spear *)

The story is that Telephus the Son of Hercules being King of Myfia oppofed the paffage of the Greeks to Troy, and being griev oufly wounded by Achilles confulted the oracle how he might be cured. The answer he received was that nothing but the fame Spear which gave the Wound could heal it: upon which he made friends to Achilles who by the ruft from the steel of his Spear fcraped into the Wound cured him. And in return for fo great a benefit Telephus followed Achilles as an Auxiliary to the siege of Troy. Ovid refers to this Story in the following verses:

Is able with the change to kill and cure,'
Here is a hand to hold a fcepter up,

And with the fame to act controlling laws:
Give place; by heaven, thou fhalt rule no more
O'er him, whom heav'n created for thy ruler.
Som. O monftrous traitor! I arreft thee, York,
Of capital treason '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? firft, let me afk 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 bastard boys of York
Shall be the furety for their traitor father.
York. O blood-befpotted Neapolitan,
Out-caft of Naples, England's bloody fcourge !
The fons of York, thy betters in their birth,
Shall be their father's bail, and bane to thofe
That for my furety will refuse 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 happiness 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 mistak'ft me much to think I do;

To Bediam with him, is the man grown mad?

K. Henry. Ay, Clifford, a Bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against his King.

Vulnus in Herculeo quæ quondam fecerat hofte

Vulneris auxilium Pelias hafta tulit.

And Propertius.

Alyfus & Æmonid juvenis quâ cufpide vulnus
Senferat, bác ipsa cufpide fenfit of em.

Clif. He is a traitor, let him to the Tower, And crop away that factious pate of his.

Q. Mar. He is arrefted, 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 serve. 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 ftake my two brave bears, * That with the very shaking of their chains They may astonish these fell-lurking curs: Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

SCENE IV.

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'ft 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 oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick,
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigefted lump,
As crooked in thy manners, as thy fhape.

York. Nay, we fhall heat you thoroughly anon.
Clif. Take heed left by your heat your burn yourselves.
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 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?

Alluding to the Nevills' creft which was the Bear and rigged af.

Why

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 myself
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?
Sal. I have.

K.Henry.Canft thou difpenfe with heav'n for fuch an oath? Sal. It is great fin to swear 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 spotless virgin's chastity, To 'reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her cuftom'd right, And have no other reason 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 first, I warrant thee; if dreams prove true.
War. You were best 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 canst 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 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.
VOL. VI.

H

Y. Clif

1

Y. 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 fhall fup with Jefu Chrift to-night.

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

SCENE V. The Battle at St. Albans.

Enter Warwick.

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 cries 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 steed:
But match to match I have encountred him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast 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 myself must hunt this deer to death.

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

It grieves my foul to leave thee unaffail'd.

[Exit War. 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 so fast mine enemy.

Clif. Nor should 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 juftice and true right exprefs it!

Clif. My foul and body on the action both!
York. A dreadful lay addrefs thee inftantly.
Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres.

[Fight. [Dies.

York,