Henry VI, Part III

devil” were alike,
And both preposterous; therefore, not “good lord.” Gloucester Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. Exit Lieutenant. King Henry

So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece
And next his throat unto the butcher’s knife.
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?

Gloucester

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

King Henry

The bird that hath been limed in a bush,
With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;
And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
Have now the fatal object in my eye
Where my poor young was limed, was caught and kill’d.

Gloucester

Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete,
That taught his son the office of a fowl!
An yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown’d.

King Henry

I, Daedalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
The sun that sear’d the wings of my sweet boy
Thy brother Edward, and thyself the sea
Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
My breast can better brook thy dagger’s point
Than can my ears that tragic history.
But wherefore dost thou come? is’t for my life?

Gloucester Think’st thou I am an executioner? King Henry

A persecutor, I am sure, thou art:
If murdering innocents be executing,
Why, then thou art an executioner.

Gloucester Thy son I kill’d for his presumption. King Henry

Hadst thou been kill’d when first thou didst presume,
Thou hadst not lived to kill a son of mine.
And thus I prophesy, that many a thousand,
Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear,
And many an old man’s sigh and many a widow’s,
And many an orphan’s water-standing eye⁠—
Men for their sons, wives for their husbands,
And orphans for their parents’ timeless death⁠—
Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
The owl shriek’d at thy birth⁠—an evil sign;
The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
Dogs howl’d, and hideous tempest shook down trees;
The raven rook’d her on the chimney’s top,
And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
Thy mother felt more than a mother’s pain,
And yet brought forth less than a mother’s hope,
To wit, an indigested and deformed lump,
Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
To signify thou camest to bite the world:
And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
Thou camest⁠—

Gloucester

I’ll hear no more: die, prophet, in thy speech: Stabs him.
For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain’d.

King Henry

Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
O, God forgive my sins, and pardon thee! Dies.

Gloucester

What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
See how my sword weeps for the poor king’s death!
O, may such purple tears be alway shed
From those that wish the downfall of our house!
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither: Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
Indeed, ’tis true that Henry told me of;
For I have often heard my mother say
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp’d our right?
The midwife wonder’d and the women cried
“O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!”
And so I was: which plainly signified
That I should snarl and bite and play the dog.
Then, since the heavens have shaped my body so,
Let hell make crook’d my mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother;
And this word “love,” which greybeards call divine,
Be resident in men like one another
And not in me: I am myself alone.
Clarence, beware; thou keep’st me from the light:
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
For I will buz abroad such prophecies
That Edward shall be fearful of his life,
And then, to purge his fear, I’ll be thy death.
King Henry and the prince his son are gone:
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest,
Counting myself but bad till I be best.
I’ll throw thy body in another room
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. Exit, with the body.

Scene VII

London. The palace.

	Flourish. Enter King Edward, Queen Elizabeth, Clarence, Gloucester, Hastings, a Nurse with the young Prince, and Attendants.
King Edward	Once more we sit in England’s royal throne, Re-purchased with the blood of enemies. What valiant foemen, like to autumn’s corn, Have we mow’d down in tops of all their pride! Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown’d For hardy and undoubted champions; Two Cliffords, as the father and the son, And two Northumberlands; two braver men Ne’er spurr’d their coursers at the trumpet’s sound; With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague, That in their chains fetter’d the kingly lion And made the forest tremble when they roar’d. Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat And made our footstool of security. Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy. Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself Have in our armours watch’d the winter’s night, Went all afoot in summer’s scalding heat, That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace; And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.
Gloucester	Aside. I’ll blast his harvest, if your head were laid; For yet I am not look’d on in the world. This shoulder was ordain’d so thick to heave; And heave it shall some weight, or break my back: Work thou the way⁠—and thou shalt execute.
King Edward	Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen; And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
Clarence	The duty that I owe unto your majesty I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
Queen Elizabeth	Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.
Gloucester	And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang’st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. Aside. To say the truth, so Judas kiss’d his master, And cried “all hail!” when as he meant all harm.
King Edward	Now am I seated as my soul delights, Having my country’s peace and brothers’ loves.
Clarence	What will your grace have done with Margaret? Reignier, her father, to the king of France Hath pawn’d the Sicils and