The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: o5v - Histories, p. 150

Left Column


The third Part of Henry the Sixt. Thou Richard shalt to the Duke of Norfolke,
[320]
And tell him priuily of our intent. You Edward shall vnto my Lord Cobham, With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise. In them I trust: for they are Souldiors, Wittie, courteous, liberall, full of spirit.
[325]
While you are thus imploy'd, what resteth more? But that I seeke occasion how to rise, And yet the King not priuie to my Drift, Nor any of the House of Lancaster. Enter Gabriel. But stay, what Newes? Why comm'st thou in such poste?
Gabriel.
[330]
The Queene, With all the Northerne Earles and Lords, Intend here to besiege you in your Castle. She is hard by, with twentie thousand men: And therefore fortifie your Hold, my Lord.
Yorke.
[335]
I, with my Sword. What? think'st thou, that we feare them? Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me, My Brother Mountague shall poste to London. Let Noble Warwicke, Cobham, and the rest,
[340]
Whom we haue left Protectors of the King, With powrefull Pollicie strengthen themselues, And trust not simple Henry, nor his Oathes.
Mount. Brother, I goe: Ile winne them, feare it not. And thus most humbly I doe take my leaue. Exit Mountague. Enter Mortimer, and his Brother. Yorke.
[345]
Sir Iohn, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine Vnckles, You are come to Sandall in a happie houre. The Armie of the Queene meane to besiege vs.
Iohn. Shee shall not neede, wee'le meete her in the field. Yorke. What, with fiue thousand men? Richard.
[350]
I, with fiue hundred, Father, for a neede. A Woman's generall: what should we feare?
A March afarre off. Edward. I heare their Drummes: Let's set our men in order, And issue forth, and bid them Battaile straight. Yorke.
[355]
Fiue men to twentie: though the oddes be great, I doubt not, Vnckle, of our Victorie. Many a Battaile haue I wonne in France, When as the Enemie hath beene tenne to one: Why should I not now haue the like successe?
Alarum. Exit.
[Act 1, Scene 3] Enter Rutland, and his Tutor. Rutland.
[360]
Ah, whither shall I flye, to scape their hands? Ah Tutor, looke where bloody Clifford comes.
Enter Clifford. Clifford. Chaplaine away, thy Priesthood saues thy life. As for the Brat of this accursed Duke, Whose Father slew my Father, he shall dye. Tutor.
[365]
And I, my Lord, will beare him company.
Clifford. Souldiers, away with him. Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child, Least thou be hated both of God and Man. Exit.

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Right Column


Clifford. How now? is he dead alreadie?
[370]
Or is it feare, that makes him close his eyes? Ile open them.
Rutland. So looks the pent‑vp Lyon o're the Wretch, That trembles vnder his deuouring Pawes: And so he walkes, insulting o're his Prey,
[375]
And so he comes, to rend his Limbes asunder. Ah gentle Clifford, kill me with thy Sword, And not with such a cruell threatning Looke. Sweet Clifford heare me speake, before I dye: I am too meane a subiect for thy Wrath,
[380]
Be thou reueng'd on men, and let me liue.
Clifford. In vaine thou speak'st, poore Boy: My Fathers blood hath stopt the passage Where thy words should enter. Rutland. Then let my Fathers blood open it againe,
[385]
He is a man, and Clifford cope with him.
Clifford. Had I thy Brethren here, their liues and thine Were not reuenge sufficient for me: No, if I digg'd vp thy fore‑fathers Graues, And hung their rotten Coffins vp in Chaynes,
[390]
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. The sight of any of the House of Yorke, Is as a furie to torment my Soule: And till I root out their accursed Line, And leaue not one aliue, I liue in Hell.
[395]
Therefore‑‑‑
Rutland. Oh let me pray, before I take my death: To thee I pray; sweet Clifford pitty me. Clifford. Such pitty as my Rapiers point affords. Rutland. I neuer did thee harme: why wilt thou slay me? Clifford.
[400]
Thy Father hath.
Rutland. But 'twas ere I was borne. Thou hast one Sonne, for his sake pitty me, Least in reuenge thereof, sith God is iust, He be as miserably slaine as I.
[405]
Ah, let me liue in Prison all my dayes, And when I giue occasion of offence, Then let me dye, for now thou hast no cause.
Clifford. No cause? thy Father slew my Father: there­ fore dye. Rutland. Dis faciant laudis summa sit ista tuæ. Clifford.
[410]
Plantagenet, I come Plantagenet: And this thy Sonnes blood cleauing to my Blade, Shall rust vpon my Weapon, till thy blood Congeal'd with this, doe make me wipe off both.
Exit.
[Act 1, Scene 4] Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of Yorke. Yorke. The Army of the Queene hath got the field:
[415]
My Vnckles both are slaine, in rescuing me; And all my followers, to the eager foe Turne back, and flye, like Ships before the Winde, Or Lambes pursu'd by hunger‑starued Wolues. My Sonnes, God knowes what hath bechanced them:
[420]
But this I know, they haue demean'd themselues Like men borne to Renowne, by Life or Death. Three times did Richard make a Lane to me, And thrice cry'de, Courage Father, fight it out: And full as oft came Edward to my side,
[425]
With Purple Faulchion, painted to the Hilt, In blood of those that had encountred him: And when the hardyest Warriors did retyre, Richard cry'de, Charge, and giue no foot of ground, And cry'de, A Crowne, or else a glorious Tombe, A

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[Act 1, Scene 3] Enter Rutland, and his Tutor. Rutland.
[360]
Ah, whither shall I flye, to scape their hands? Ah Tutor, looke where bloody Clifford comes.
Enter Clifford. Clifford. Chaplaine away, thy Priesthood saues thy life. As for the Brat of this accursed Duke, Whose Father slew my Father, he shall dye. Tutor.
[365]
And I, my Lord, will beare him company.
Clifford. Souldiers, away with him. Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child, Least thou be hated both of God and Man. Exit. Clifford. How now? is he dead alreadie?
[370]
Or is it feare, that makes him close his eyes? Ile open them.
Rutland. So looks the pent‑vp Lyon o're the Wretch, That trembles vnder his deuouring Pawes: And so he walkes, insulting o're his Prey,
[375]
And so he comes, to rend his Limbes asunder. Ah gentle Clifford, kill me with thy Sword, And not with such a cruell threatning Looke. Sweet Clifford heare me speake, before I dye: I am too meane a subiect for thy Wrath,
[380]
Be thou reueng'd on men, and let me liue.
Clifford. In vaine thou speak'st, poore Boy: My Fathers blood hath stopt the passage Where thy words should enter. Rutland. Then let my Fathers blood open it againe,
[385]
He is a man, and Clifford cope with him.
Clifford. Had I thy Brethren here, their liues and thine Were not reuenge sufficient for me: No, if I digg'd vp thy fore‑fathers Graues, And hung their rotten Coffins vp in Chaynes,
[390]
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. The sight of any of the House of Yorke, Is as a furie to torment my Soule: And till I root out their accursed Line, And leaue not one aliue, I liue in Hell.
[395]
Therefore‑‑‑
Rutland. Oh let me pray, before I take my death: To thee I pray; sweet Clifford pitty me. Clifford. Such pitty as my Rapiers point affords. Rutland. I neuer did thee harme: why wilt thou slay me? Clifford.
[400]
Thy Father hath.
Rutland. But 'twas ere I was borne. Thou hast one Sonne, for his sake pitty me, Least in reuenge thereof, sith God is iust, He be as miserably slaine as I.
[405]
Ah, let me liue in Prison all my dayes, And when I giue occasion of offence, Then let me dye, for now thou hast no cause.
Clifford. No cause? thy Father slew my Father: there­ fore dye. Rutland. Dis faciant laudis summa sit ista tuæ. Clifford.
[410]
Plantagenet, I come Plantagenet: And this thy Sonnes blood cleauing to my Blade, Shall rust vpon my Weapon, till thy blood Congeal'd with this, doe make me wipe off both.
Exit.
 

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   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Rutland, and his Tutor.</stage>
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      <l n="360">Ah, whither shall I flye, to scape their hands?</l>
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      <l n="384">Then let my Fathers blood open it againe,</l>
      <l n="385">He is a man, and<hi rend="italic">Clifford</hi>cope with him.</l>
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      <l n="388">No, if I digg'd vp thy fore‑fathers Graues,</l>
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      <l n="390">It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.</l>
      <l n="391">The sight of any of the House of<hi rend="italic">Yorke</hi>,</l>
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      <l n="394">And leaue not one aliue, I liue in Hell.</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Clifford.</speaker>
      <l n="398">Such pitty as my Rapiers point affords.</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Rutland.</speaker>
      <l n="399">I neuer did thee harme: why wilt thou slay
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      <speaker rend="italic">Clifford.</speaker>
      <l n="400">Thy Father hath.</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Rutland.</speaker>
      <l n="401">But 'twas ere I was borne.</l>
      <l n="402">Thou hast one Sonne, for his sake pitty me,</l>
      <l n="403">Least in reuenge thereof, sith God is iust,</l>
      <l n="404">He be as miserably slaine as I.</l>
      <l n="405">Ah, let me liue in Prison all my dayes,</l>
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      <l n="411">And this thy Sonnes blood cleauing to my Blade,</l>
      <l n="412">Shall rust vpon my Weapon, till thy blood</l>
      <l n="413">Congeal'd with this, doe make me wipe off both.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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