course,
Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
The sun shines hot, and, if we use delay,
Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.

Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join,
And take the great-grown traitor unawares.
Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

{Exeunt.

ACT V.

Scene 1.— Coventry.

Enter, upon the walls, Warwick, the Mayor of
Coventry, two Messengers, and others.

Wa r. Where is the post that came from valiant
Oxford ?
How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow ?
1st Mess. By this time at Dunsmore, marching

hitherward.
War. How far off is our brother Montague ?
Where is the post that came from Montague?
2tul Mess. By this at Daintry,* with a [UaTeutry
puissant troop.

Enter Sir John Soniei^ille.

War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving
son?
And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now?
Soni. At Southam I did leave him with his
forces,

95



Tliird Part of Kino- Henry VT

And do expect him here some two hours hence.

[Driiin heard.
M'di: Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his

drum.
(S'oj/j. It is not his, my lord; here Sontham lies:
The drum your honour hears marcheth from
Warwick.
War. Who should that be ? belike, unlook'd-

for friends. '
Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly
know.

March. Flourish. Enter King Edward,
Gloster, and Forces.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and soimd

a parle.
Glo. See how the surly Warwick mans the

wall.
Hon O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come?
Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc'd.
That we could hear no news of his repair?
7v. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the
city gates ?
Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee.
Call Edward king, and at his hands beg mercy.
And he shall pardon thee these outrages.

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces
hence.
Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down ?
Call Warwick patron and be penitent.
And thou shalt still remain the Duke of Yoik.
Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said
the king ;
Or did he make the jest against his will?
War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give ;

96



Act V Scene 1

I '11 do thee service for so good a gift.

War. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy
brother.

K. Edw. Why, then, 'tis mine, if but by-
Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight,
And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again ;
And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

K. Ediv. But Warwick's king is Edward's
prisoner ;
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this :
What is the body when the head is off ?

Glo. Alas ! that Warwick had no more forecast.
But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slyly finger'd from the deck* I

[the pack of cards

You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace.
And, ten to one, you '11 meet him in the Tower.
K. Edw. 'Tis even so ; yet you are Warwick

still.
Glo. Come, Wai'wick, take the time; kneel
down, kneel down.
Nay, when ? strike now, or else the iron cools.

War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other fling it at thy face,
Than bear so low a sail, to strike* to thee, [lower sail
K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and
tide thy friend.
This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair.
Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut olf.
Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,
* Wind-changing Warwick now can change no
more.'

Enter O.rford, tvith Forces.
War. O cheerful colours I see where Oxford
comes.

7 G 97



Tliii'd Part of Kino- Henrv VI

Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster !

[He and his forces cuter the city.

Glo. The gates are open ; let us enter too.

K. Edxc. So other foes may set upon our hacks.
Stand we in good array, for they no douht
Will issue out again, and hid us hattle ;
If not, the city heing hut of small defence,
We '11 quickly rouse the traitors in the same.

War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy
help.

Enter Montague, with Forces.
Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
[He and his forces enter the city.
Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this
treason.
Even with the dearest blood yoiu- bodies bear.
K. Edw. The harder match'd, the gieater
victory ;
My mind prcsageth happy gain and conquest.

Enter Somerset, with Forces.
Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster !

[He and his forces otter thecity.
Glo. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Have sold their lives unto the house of York ;
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Entei- Clarence, loith Forces.
War. And, lo, where George of Clarence
sweeps along.
Of force enough to l)id his brother battle ;
\\'ith whom an upright zeal to right prevails.
More than the nature of a brother's love !

[Glostei- and Clarence uh is^per.
Come, Clarence, come ; thou wilt if Warwick
calls.

98



Act y Scene 1

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this
means ? [ Taking the red rose out of his Jiat.
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee ;
I will not ruinate my father's house,
Who gave his hlood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou,

Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war
Against his brother and his lawful king ?
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath ;
To keep that oath were more impiety
Than Jephtha's when he sacrific'd his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made,
That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,
With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee—
As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad —
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks. —
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends ;
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults.
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.

K. Edw. Now, welcome more, and ten times
more belov'd,
Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.

Glo. Welcome, good Clarence ; this is brother-
like.

War. O passing traitor, perjur'd and unjust !

K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the
town and fight.
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears ?

War. Alas ! I am not coop'd heie for defence :
I will away towards Barnet presently.
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

99



Third rart of King Henry VI

K. Edic. Yes, AVarwick, Edward dares, and
leads (he way.—
Lords, to the field ! Saint George and victory !

[ Mu rch . Exeunt.

Scene 2.— A Field of Battle near Barnet.

Alarunifi and Excnrsions. Enter King
Edward, bringing hi Warwick wounded.

K. Edtc. So, lie thou there ; die thou, and die

fUir fear, [a bugl)ear that frightened

For Warwick was a bug that fear'd* us all.—
Now, Montague, sit fast ; I seek for thee,
That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

[Exit.
War. Ah ! who is nigh ? come to me, friend

or foe.
And tell nie who is victor, York or Warwick.
Why ask T that? my mangled body shows ;
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart

shows
That I nuist yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge.
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept.
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading

tree
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful

wind.
These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's

black veil.
Have been as piercing as the midday sun.
To search the secret treasons of the world ;
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood.
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres.



too



Act V Scene 2

For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile when Warwick bent his

brow ?
Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood !
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me, and of all my lands
Is nothing left me but my body's length.
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and

dust ?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter Oxford and Somerset.

Sam. Ah, Warwick, Warwick ! wert thou as
we are.
We might recover all our loss again.
The queen from France hath brought a puissant

power ;
Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst
thou fly !
War. Why, then I would not fly. — Ah, Mon-
tague !
If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile.
Thou lov'st me not ; for, brother, if thou did'st.
Thy tears would wash this cold, congealed blood
That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I ain dead.
Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd
his last.
And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
And said ' Commend me to my valiant brother.'
And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
That might not be distinguish'd ; but at last
I well might hear, deliver'd with a groan, —
' O, farewell Warwick ! '



Third Part of King Henry VI

War. Sweet rest his soul ! Fly, lords, and
save yoursflves ;
For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in
heaven. [DIch.

O.rf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great
power !

[Exeunt, hearing off Wanoick's body.



Scene 3.— Another Part of the Field.

Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph ;
with Clarence, Gloster, and the rest,

K. Edit'. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward
course.
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threatening cloud.
That will encounter with our glorious sun
Ere he attain his easeful western bed ;
I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
Ilath rais'd in Gallia have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud,
And blow it to the source from whence it came ;
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up.
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Glo. The queen is valued thirty thousand
strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her ;
If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd.
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

K. Edw. We are advertis'd by oiu- loving
friends.
That they do hold their course toward Tewks-

bury.
W^e, having now the best at Barnet field.



Act V Scene 4

Will thither straight, for willingness rids way*;

[gets rid of distance

And, as we march, our strength will be aug-
mented
In every county as Ave go along. —
Strike up the drum ! cry ' Courage ! ' and away.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

Scene 4. — Plains near Tewksbviry.

March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince
Edward, Somerset, Oxford, and Soldiers.

Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and

wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown overboard,
The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ?
Yet lives our pilot still. Is 't meet that he
Should leave the helm, and like a fearful lad
With tearful eyes add water to the sea.
And give more strength to that which hath too

much.
Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock.
Which industry and courage might have sav'd ?
Ah, what a shame ! ah, what a fault were this !
Say Warwick was our anchor ; what of that ?
And Montague our topmast ; what of him ?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles ; what of

these ?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor,
And Somerset another goodly mast ?
The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
And, though imskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm to sit and weep,



Third Part of King Henry VI

But keep our course, though the rough wind

say no,
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with

wrack.
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
And wliat is Edward but a ruthless sea ?
What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard but a ragged fatal rock ?
All these the enemies to our poor bark ?
Say you can swim ; alas, 'tis but a while !
Tread on the sand ; why, there you quickly

sink :
Bestride the rock ; the tide will wash you off.
Or else you famish, — that's a. threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you luiderstand.
If case* some one of you woidd fly from [by chance

us.
That there's no hop'd-f(jr mercy with the

brothers
INIore than with ruthless waves, with sands, and

rocks.
Why, coiu'age then ! what caiuiot be avoided
'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.
Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant

spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity.
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this as doubting any here ;
For, did I but suspect a fearful man.
He should have leave to go away })etimes.
Lest in our need he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here — as God forbid ! —
Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage,

104



Act V Scene 4

And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual

shame. —
O, brave young prince ! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee ; long mayst thou live
To bear his linage and renew his glories !

Som. And he that will not fight for such a hope,
Go home to bed, and like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.
Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset. — Sweet

Oxford, thanks.
Prince. And t-ake his thanks that yet hath
nothing else.

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at
hand.
Ready to fight ; therefore be resolute.

O.rf. I thought no less ; it is his policy
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
.S'o?7i. But he 's deceiv'd ; we are in readiness.
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your

forwardness.
Ojcf. Here pitch our battle ; hence we will not
budge.

Flourish and March. Enter King Edtvard.

Clarence, Gloster, and Forces.

K. Edtv. Brave followers, yonder stands the

thorny wood

Which, by the heaven's assistance and your

strength.

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.

I need not add more fuel to your fire.

For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out.

Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords !

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what

I should say

105



'I'liird l*;irt of King Henry VI

My tears gainsay ; for evory word I speak,
Ye see I drink tlie water of my eyes.
Therefore, no more but this : Henry, your

sovereign.
Is prisoner to the foe, his state usnrp'd.
His reahn a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice ; then, in God's name,

lords.
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[E,r^iinf.

Scene 5.— Another Part of the Field.

Flourish. Enter King Edicord, Clarence, Glo-
ster, and forces; icith Queen Margaret,
Oxford, and Somerset, as prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous

broils. (Ham, in lIcarHy

Away with Oxford to Hames Castle* straight ;
For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them
speak.
Oxf. For my part, I '11 not trouble thee with

words.
Som. For I, but stoop with patience to my
fortune. [Exeunt Oxf. and Som. gxiarded.
Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous
world,
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
K. Edv. Is proclamation made, that who finds
Edward
Shall have a high reward, and he his life ?
Glo. It is; and, lo, where youthful Edward
comes !

io6



Act V Scene 5

Enter Soldiers, tvith Prince Edward.
K. Ediv. Bring forth the gallant ; let us hear
him speak.
What ! can so young a thorn begin to prick ?—
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects.
And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to ?
Prince. Speak like a subject, proud, ambitious
Tork !
Suppose that I am now my father's mouth ;
Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee
Which, traitor, thou w^ouldst hav'e me answer to.
Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so re-
sol v'd !
Glo. That you might still have worn the
petticoat.
And ne'er have stolen the breech from Lan-
caster.
Prince. Let ^sop fable in a winter's night ;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Glo. By heaven, brat, I '11 plague ye for t hat

word.
Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to

men.
Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive

scold.
Prince. Nay, take away this scolding ciook-

back rather.
K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or T will charm*

your tongue. fsilence

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.

Prince. I know my duty ; you are all undutiful.
Lascivious Edwaid, and thou perjur'd George,
And thou misshapen Dick, I tell ye all,
I am your better, traitors as ye are ;

107



Third Part of Kin or Hcnrv VI

And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.
K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer

here. [Sfdbs him.

Glo. Sprawl'st thou ? take that, to end thy

agony. [Stabs Jiini,

Clar. And there 's for twitting nie with per-
jury. [Stabs him.
Q. Mar. O, kill me too !

(I'lu. Marry, and shall. [Offers to kill her.
K. Edio. Hold, Richard, hold ! for we have

done too much.
lllo. Why should she live, to fill the world

with words?
A'. Ed%o. What ! doth she swoon ? use means

for her recovery.
Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king, my
hrother.
I '11 hence to London on a serious matter ;
Ere j'e come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower ! the Tower ! [E.Ht.

Q. Mar. O Ned ! sweet Ned ! speak to thy
mother, boy :
Canst thou not speak ? — O traitors ! murtheiers !
They that stabb'd Ca?sar shed no blood at all.
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by to equal it.
He was a man ; this, in respect, a child :
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
What's worse than murtherer, that I may

name it ?
No, no, my heart will burst, an if I speak ;
And I will speak, that so njy heart may burst.
Butchers and villains ! bloody cannibals I
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd 1
You have no children, butchers ! if you had,

io8



Act V Scene 5

The thought of them would have stirr'd up

remorse ;
But, if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off
As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young
prince I
K. Ediv. Away with her ! go, bear her hence

perforce.
Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch
me here ;
Here sheathe thy sword, I '11 pardon thee my

death.
What! wilt thou not? — then, Clarence, do it
thou.
Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much

ease.
Q, Mar. Good Clarence, do ; sweet Clarence,

do thou do it,
Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear I would

not do it ?
Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear tliy-
self ;
'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.
What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's

butcher,
Hard-favour'd Richard ? — Richard, where art

thou?
Thou art not here : murther is thy alms-deed ;
Petitioners for blood thou ne'er putt'st back.
K. Edw. Away, I say ! I charge ye, bear her

hence.
Q. Mar. So come to you and yours as to this

prince 1 [She is taken out.

K. Edw. Where 's Richard gone ?
Clar. To London, all in post ; and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

109



Tliird Part of Kin<^ Heiirv VI

K. Edu\ He s sudden, if a thing comes in his

head.
Now march we hence ; discharge the common

sort
With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And see our gentle queen how well she fares :
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.

Scene 6. — London. The Tower.

King Henry is discovered sitting icith a book in
his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter
Gloster.

Glo. Good day, my lord. What ! at your

book so hard ?
K. Hen. Ay, my good lord ; — my lord, I
should say rather.
'Tis sin to flatter ; ' good ' was little better :
' Good Gloster ' and ' good devil ' were alike.
And both preposterous ; therefore, not ' good
lord.'
Glo. Sirrah leave us to ourselves ; we must

confer. [Exit Lieutenant.

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

K. Hen. 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 mv poor young was lim'd, was caught,
andkill'd.



Act V Scene

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

K. Hen. 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 coirie? is't for my
life?

Glo. Think'st thou I am an executioner ?

K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art ;
If murthering innocents be executing.
Why, then thou art an executioner.

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption,

K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd when first
thou didst presume.
Thou hadst not liv'd 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 [foreboding

time;
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down

trees ;
The raven rook'd her* on the chimney's top, [rooited



Third Pjirt of King Henry VI

And c'hatt'rinpj pies in dismal discord sung.
Tliy inotlicr foil more than a mothor's pain,
And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope,
An indigested and deformed lump,
Not like the frviit of such a goodly tree.
Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast

born.
To signify thou cam'st to bite the world ;
And, if the rest be true which I have heard.
Thou cam'st —

Glo. I '11 hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy
speech; [Stabs hini.

For this, amongst the i-est, was I ordain'd.
A'. Ilea. Ay, and for much more slaughter
after this.
O, God foi'give my sins, and pardon thee 1 [Dies.
Glo. What ! will the aspiring blood of Lan-
caster
Sink in the ground? I thought it would have

mounted.
See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's
death !

0, may such piu-ple tears be always 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 Jilin again.

1, 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 usiu'p'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd ; and the women cried,
' O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth I '
And so I was ; which plainly signified



Act V Scene 7

That I should snarl and bite and play the dog.
Then, since the heavens have shap'd 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 ; [prepare
For I will buzz abroad such prophecies.
That Edward shall be fearful of his life.
And then, to purge his fear, I '11 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 '11 throw thy body in another room.
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

[E.vit with the body.

Scene 7.— London. The Palace.

King Edward is disccnwred sitting on his
throne; Qxieen Elizabeth with the infant
Pnnce, Clarence, Gloster, Hastings, and
others, near him.

K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal
throne,
Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn.
Have we mow'd down in tops of all their pride I
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

7 H "3



Tliird Part of King Henry VI

Ne'er spiUT'd their coursers at the trumpet's