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Henry VI part three

Act II, Scene 5

Another part of the field.
 
[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone]
 
KING HENRY VI
            ,        ,       ,            ,          ,
      This bat|tle fares | like to | the morn|ing's war,
            ,        ,          ,           ,        ,
      When dy|ing clouds | contend,| with grow|ing light,
             ,          ,         ,       ,         ,
      What time | the shep|herd blow|ing of | his nails,
            ,        ,        ,        ,          ,
      Can neith|er call | it per|fect day,| nor night.
             ,          ,            ,        ,      ,
      Now* sways | it this | way*, like | a migh|ty sea,
         ,              ,        ,   ,               ,
      Forced by | the tide,| to com|bat with | the wind:
                x       T   T     T   .      T   T   T
      Now* sways it | that way, like the | selfsame sea,  ??
         ,            ,        ,     ,         ,
      Forced to | retire | by fu|ry of | the wind.
             ,          ,          ,           ,          ,
      *Sometime,| the flood | prevails;| and then | the wind:
       T    T   .   T         ,       ,       ,
      Now, one the bet|ter: then,| anoth|er best;
        ,   ,                 ,          ,           ,
      Both tug/ging to | be vict|ors, breast | to breast:
            ,       ,      ,         ,      ,
      Yet neith|er con|queror,| nor con|quered.
       ,          ,        ,                 ,   ,
      So is | the e|qual poise | of this / fell war.
            ,          ,          ,       ,         ,
      Here^on | this mole|hill* will | I sit | me down,
           ,           ,      ,             ,     ,
      To whom | God* will,| there be | the vict|ory:
           ,     ,         ,           ,        ,
      For Marg|aret | my queen,| and Clif|ford too
             ,         ,         ,         ,         ,
      Have chid | me from | the bat|tle: swear|ing both,
             ,        ,        ,         ,         ,
      They pros|per best | of all | when I | am thence.
            ,          ,         ,             ,          ,
      Would I | were dead,| if God's | good* will | were so;
            ,        ,          ,           ,          ,
      For what | is in | this world,| but grief | and woe.
         ,         ,          ,       ,       ,
      O God!| Methinks | it were | a hap|py life,
          ,       ,        ,        ,       ,
      To be | no bet|ter than | a home|ly swain,
          ,      ,        ,       ,       ,
      To sit | upon | a hill,| as I | do now,
           ,          ,        ,         ,          ,
      To carve | out di|als quaint|ly, point | by point,
            ,       ,         ,        ,          ,
      Thereby | to see | the min|utes how | they run:
           ,      ,         ,      ,         ,
      How ma|ny make | the hou|r full | complete,
           ,     ,       ,        ,         ,
      How ma|ny hou|rs bring | about | the day,
           ,      ,          ,       ,         ,
      How ma|ny days | will fin|ish up | the year,
           ,      ,        ,       ,          ,
      How ma|ny years | a mort|al man | may live.
             ,         ,       ,           ,          ,
      When this | is known,| then to | divide | the times.
          ,     ,        ,        ,         ,
      So ma|ny hou|rs, must | I tend | my flock;
          ,     ,        ,        ,         ,
      So ma|ny hou|rs, must | I take | my rest:
          ,     ,        ,       ,       ,
      So ma|ny hou|rs, must | I con|template:
       ,        ,        ,        ,         ,
      So ma|ny hou|rs, must | I sport | myself:
          ,      ,         ,           ,           ,
      So ma|ny days,| my ewes | have been | with young:
          ,      ,                 ,    ,           ,
      So ma|ny weeks,| ere the / poor fools | will ean:
          ,      ,         ,           ,            ,
      So ma|ny years,| ere^I | shall shear | the fleece:
          ,         ,        ,       ,            ,
      So min|utes, hou|rs, days,| months, and | years,
      <-         ,       ,        ,           ,      ,
        Passed^||over | to the | end they | were cre|ated,
              ,       T     T     T   2   ,       ,
      Would bring | white hairs, un|to a qui|et grave.
       ,      2      ,           ,           ,           ,
      Ah! What a | life were | this? How | sweet? How | lovely?
        T    T   .   T          ,        ,        ,
      Gives not the haw|thorn^bush | a sweet|er shade
           ,         ,        ,          ,       ,
      To shep|herds look|ing on | their sil|ly sheep,
             ,        ,         ,        ,    ,
      Than doth | a rich | embroid|ered can|opy
           ,            ,           ,    ,       ,
      To kings,| that fear | their sub|jects' treach/ery?
          ,         ,        ,         ,         ,
      Oh yes,| it doth;| a thous|and-fold | it doth.
           ,        ,           ,           ,       ,
      And to | conclude,| the shep|herd's home|ly curds,
            ,      T    T    T      2     ,          x
      His cold | thin drink out | of his leath|er bottle,
            ,       ,      ,   2      T      T     T
      His wont|ed sleep,| under a | fresh tree's shade,
            ,         ,          ,       ,       ,
      All which | secure,| and sweet|ly he | enjoys,
          ,        ,        ,        ,     ,
      Is far | beyond | a prin|ce's del|icates:
           ,        ,         ,      ,       ,
      His vi|ands spark|ling in | a gold|en cup,
           ,      ,       ,      ,   2    ,
      His bo|dy couch|ed in | a cur|ious bed,
             ,         ,           ,        ,         ,
      When care,| mistrust,| and treas|on waits | on him.
 
[Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body]
 
SON
       T    T    .    T          ,        ,    ,
      Ill blows the wind | that prof|its no|body,
            ,           ,         ,        ,         ,
      This man,| whom hand | to hand | I slew | in fight,
           ,        ,       ,           ,           ,
      May be | posses|sed with | some store | of crowns,
          ,          ,        ,           ,         ,
      And I | that (hap|ly) take | them from | him now,
           ,          ,             ,         ,          ,
      May yet |(ere night)| yield^both | my life | and them
           ,          ,     .   T    T   T          ,
      To some | man^else,| as^this dead man | doth me.
              ,       ,        ,       ,          ,
      Who's^this?| O God!| It is | my fath|er's face,
            ,         ,    T   T   .  T             ,
      Whom^in | this con|flict I (unwares)| have killed:
         ,       ,        ,         ,       ,
      O hea|vy times!| Beget|ting such | events.
            ,        ,         ,               ,      ,
      From Lon|don, by | the king | was I / pressed forth,
          ,       ,    2      ,        ,          ,
      My fath|er be|ing the Earl | of War|wick's man,
        ,    2        ,         ,      ,                ,
      Came on the | part of | York, pressed / by his | master:
          ,        ,         ,          ,          ,
      And I,| who at | his hands | received | my life,
            ,    T   T     .   T        ,      ,
      Have by | my hands, of life | bereav|ed him.
       ,           ,        ,           ,       ,
      Pardon | me God,| I knew | not* what | I did:
           ,        ,       ,        ,          ,
      And pard|on fath|er, for | I knew | not^thee.
           ,             ,      ,            ,       ,
      My tears | shall wipe | away | these bloo|dy marks:
           ,           ,            ,            ,             ,
      And no | more* words,| till they | have flowed | their fill.
 
KING HENRY VI
         ,   2     ,     ,        ,       ,
      O pit|eous spec|tacle!| O bloo|dy times!
              ,      ,         ,       ,            ,
      Whiles^li|ons war,| and bat|tle for | their dens,
              ,         ,        ,           ,    ,
      Poor* harm|less^lambs | abide | their en|mity.
        T    T   .   T          ,           ,          ,
      Weep wretched man:| I'll aid | thee tear | for tear,
           ,           ,           ,          ,      ,
      And let | our hearts | and eyes,| like civ|il war,
           ,            ,           ,           ,             ,
      Be blind | with tears,| and break | orecharged | with grief.
 
[Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body]
 
FATHER
        ,               ,        ,       ,       ,
      Thou that | so* stout|ly hast | resist|ed me,
        ,             ,         ,         ,      ,
      Give me | thy gold,| if thou | hast an|y gold:
          ,           ,          ,       ,         ,
      For I | have bought | it with | a hund|red blows.
           ,        ,         ,         ,          ,
      But let | me see:| is this | our foe|man's face?
       T   T   T     ,    2           ,     ,
      Ah, no, no, | no, it is | mine^on|ly son.
          ,       ,      ,         ,         ,
      Ah boy,| if an|y life | be left | in thee,
             ,          ,           ,            x         ,
      Throw^up | thine^eye:| see*, see,| what showers | arise,  ??
        ,               ,      ,        ,        ,
      Blown with | the wind|y temp|est of | my heart,
        ,          ,            ,          ,          ,
      Upon | thy words,| that kill | mine eye,| and heart.
         ,     ,          ,    ,      ,
      O pi|ty God,| this mis|era|ble age!
             ,      ,          ,          ,      ,
      What strat|agems?| How fell?| How butch|erly?
         ,   2     ,     ,         ,  ,  2
      Erron|eous, mut|inous | and un|natural,
             ,       ,       ,       ,       ,
      This dead|ly quar|rel dai|ly doth | beget?
         ,         ,        ,           ,          ,
      O boy!| thy fath|er gave | thee life | too soon,
            ,        ,          ,         ,          ,
      And hath | bereft | thee of | thy life | too late.
 
KING HENRY VI
       T  .  T   T      ,                 ,        ,
      Woe above woe:| grief, more*| than com|mon grief
          ,         ,             ,            ,        ,
      O that | my death | would stay | these ruth|ful deeds:
         ,      ,      ,         x      ,
      O pi|ty, pi|ty, gent|le heaven,| pity:
           ,      ,              ,          ,         ,
      The red | rose and | the white | are on | his face,
            x      ,        ,         ,         ,
      The fatal | colors | of our | striving | houses:
           ,         ,        ,       ,       2    ,
      The one,| his pur|ple blood | right well re|sembles,
          ,     2      ,       ,         ,          ,
      The oth|er his pale | cheeks (me|thinks) pres|enteth:
       ,        T    T    .   T        ,          x
      Wither | one rose, and let | the oth|er flourish:
       ,    2      ,         ,          ,            ,
      If you con|tend, a | thousand | lives must | wither.
 
SON
       ,              ,        ,       ,          ,
      How will | my moth|er, for | a fath|er's death
            ,         ,         ,        ,      ,
      Take^on | with me,| and nere | be sat|isfied?
 
FATHER
       ,              ,           ,        ,       ,
      How will | my wife,| for slaught|er of | my son,
             ,         ,           ,        ,      ,
      Shed^seas | of tears,| and nere | be sat|isfied?
 
KING HENRY VI
       ,      2        ,        ,           ,         ,
      How will the | country,| for these | woeful | chances,
           ,           ,         ,        ,      ,
      Misthink | the king,| and not | be sat|isfied?
 
SON
          ,      ,         ,       ,          ,
      Was ev|er son,| so rued | a fath|er's death?
 
FATHER
          ,      ,       ,        ,          ,
      Was ev|er fath|er so | bemoaned | his son?
 
KING HENRY VI
          ,       ,          ,           ,          ,
      Was ev|er king | so grieved | for sub|jects'^woe?
        ,    2        ,         T    T    T          ,
      Much is your | sorrow;| mine, ten times | so much.
 
SON
             ,           ,           ,         ,         ,
      I'll bear | thee hence,| where^I | may weep | my fill.
 
[Exit with the body]
 
FATHER
              ,         ,           ,        ,         ,
      These^arms | of mine | shall be | thy wind|ing-sheet:
           ,             ,           ,        ,      ,
      My heart |(sweet* boy)| shall be | thy sep|ulchre,
            ,         ,           ,        ,           ,
      For from | my heart,| thine im|age nere | shall go.
           ,         ,            ,        ,         ,
      My sigh|ing breast,| shall be | thy fun|eral bell;
           ,      ,    2     ,          ,      ,
      And so | obse|quious will | thy fath|er be,
      ,         2      ,         ,     ,            ,
      Even | for the loss | of thee,| having | no more,
          ,      ,         ,         ,   2     ,
      As Pri|am was | for all | his val|iant sons,
             ,           ,          ,           ,            ,
      I'll bear | thee hence,| and let | them fight | that will,
          ,          ,         ,          ,           ,
      For I | have murd|ered where | I should | not kill.
 
[Exit with the body]
 
KING HENRY VI
       T    T  .   T         ,      ,           ,
      Sad-hearted men,| much ov|ergone | with care;
        T    T  .   T           ,              ,   ,
      Here sits a king,| more* woe|ful than / you are.
 
[Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER]
 
PRINCE EDWARD
       T    Tx     T         ,            ,            ,
      Fly father, fly:| for all | your friends | are fled,
           ,        ,       ,        ,       ,
      And War|wick rag|es like | a chaf|ed bull:
        ,          ,            ,        ,        ,
      Away,| for death | doth hold | us in | pursuit.
 
QUEEN MARGARET
        ,              ,             ,         ,       ,
      Mount you | my lord,| towards Ber|wick post | amain:
       ,    2       ,          ,        T    .   T    T
      Edward and | Richard | like a | brace of greyhounds,
       ,             ,       ,        ,         ,
      Having | the fear|ful fly|ing hare | in sight,
            ,       ,      ,              ,      ,
      With fie|ry eyes,| sparkling | for ve|ry wrath,
            ,       ,        ,                ,        ,
      And bloo|dy steel | grasped in | their ire|ful hands
           ,         ,           ,          ,        ,
      Are at | our backs,| and there|fore hence | amain.
 
EXETER
        ,          ,          ,        ,           ,
      Away:| for venge|ance comes | along | with them.
       T     T   T      2   ,      ,            ,
      Nay, stay not | to expos|tulate,| make* speed,
           ,          ,        ,      ,        ,
      Or else | come^aft|er, I'll | away | before.
 
KING HENRY VI
             ,         ,            ,           ,   ,
      Nay* take | me with | thee, good | sweet^Ex|eter:
       ,             ,         ,          ,        ,
      Not that | I fear | to stay,| but love | to go
       ,              ,         ,      ,          ,
      Whither | the queen | intends.| Forward,| away.
 
[Exeunt]

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