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Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!'

March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK,

NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and soldiers

EDWARD.

Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace

And set thy diadem upon my head,

Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?

QUEEN MARGARET.

Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy.

Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms

Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?

EDWARD.

I am his king, and he should bow his knee.

I was adopted heir by his consent:

Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,

You that are King, though he do wear the crown,

Have caus'd him by new act of parliament

To blot out me and put his own son in.

CLIFFORD.

And reason too:

Who should succeed the father but the son?

RICHARD.

Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!

CLIFFORD.

Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,

Or any he, the proudest of thy sort.

RICHARD.

'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?

CLIFFORD.

Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.

RICHARD.

For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

WARWICK.

What say'st thou, Henry? Wilt thou yield the crown?

QUEEN MARGARET.

Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick! Dare you speak?

When you and I met at Saint Albans last

Your legs did better service than your hands.

WARWICK.

Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.

CLIFFORD.

You said so much before, and yet you fled.

WARWICK.

'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.

RICHARD.

Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.

Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain

The execution of my big-swol'n heart

Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

CLIFFORD.

I slew thy father; call'st thou him a child?

RICHARD.

Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,

As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland;

But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed.

KING HENRY.

Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

QUEEN MARGARET.

Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.

KING HENRY.

I prithee give no limits to my tongue:

I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.

CLIFFORD.

My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here

Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.

RICHARD.

Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.

By Him that made us all, I am resolv'd

That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.

EDWARD.

Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?

A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day

That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.

WARWICK.

If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;

For York in justice puts his armour on.

PRINCE OF WALES.

If that be right which Warwick says is right,

There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

RICHARD.

Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;

For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.

QUEEN MARGARET.

But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam;

But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,

Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,

As venom toads or lizards' dreadful stings.

RICHARD.

Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,

Whose father bears the title of a king-

As if a channel should be call'd the sea-

Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,

To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?

EDWARD.

A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns

To make this shameless callet know herself.

Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,

Although thy husband may be Menelaus;

And ne'er was Agamemmon's brother wrong'd

By that false woman as this king by thee.

His father revell'd in the heart of France,

And tam'd the King, and made the Dauphin stoop;

And had he match'd according to his state,

He might have kept that glory to this day;

But when he took a beggar to his bed

And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day,

Even then that sunshine brew'd a show'r for him

That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France

And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.

For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?

Hadst thou been meek, our