SCENE II. Saint Alban's. The Second part of King Henry the Sixth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry VI, part 2  | Act 5, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. Saint Alban's. 

 Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK  WARWICK  Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls: 

 And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, 

 Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum 

 And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, 

 Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me: 

 Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, 

 Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. 



 Enter YORK  How now, my noble lord? what, all afoot? 

 YORK  The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, 

 But match to match I have encounter'd him 

 And made a prey for carrion kites and crows 

 Even of the bonny beast he loved so well. 



 Enter CLIFFORD  WARWICK  Of one or both of us the time is come. 

 YORK  Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase, 

 For I myself must hunt this deer to death. 

 WARWICK  Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st. 

 As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day, 

 It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. 



 Exit  CLIFFORD  What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou pause? 

 YORK  With thy brave bearing should I be in love, 

 But that thou art so fast mine enemy. 

 CLIFFORD  Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, 

 But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason. 

 YORK  So let it help me now against thy sword 

 As I in justice and true right express it. 

 CLIFFORD  My soul and body on the action both! 

 YORK  A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly. 



 They fight, and CLIFFORD falls  CLIFFORD  La fin couronne les oeuvres. 



 Dies  YORK  Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. 

 Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! 



 Exit 

 Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD  YOUNG CLIFFORD  Shame and confusion! all is on the rout; 

 Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds 

 Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell, 

 Whom angry heavens do make their minister 

 Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part 

 Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly. 

 He that is truly dedicate to war 

 Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself 

 Hath not essentially but by circumstance 

 The name of valour. 



 Seeing his dead father  O, let the vile world end, 

 And the premised flames of the last day 

 Knit earth and heaven together! 

 Now let the general trumpet blow his blast, 

 Particularities and petty sounds 

 To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, 

 To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve 

 The silver livery of advised age, 

 And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus 

 To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight 

 My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine, 

 It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; 

 No more will I their babes: tears virginal 

 Shall be to me even as the dew to fire, 

 And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims 

 Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. 

 Henceforth I will not have to do with pity: 

 Meet I an infant of the house of York, 

 Into as many gobbets will I cut it 

 As wild Medea young Absyrtus did: 

 In cruelty will I seek out my fame. 

 Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house: 

 As did AEneas old Anchises bear, 

 So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders; 

 But then AEneas bare a living load, 

 Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. 



 Exit, bearing off his father 

 Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed  RICHARD  So, lie thou there; 

 For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, 

 The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset 

 Hath made the wizard famous in his death. 

 Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still: 

 Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. 



 Exit 

 Fight: excursions. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and others  QUEEN MARGARET  Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away! 

 KING HENRY VI  Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay. 

 QUEEN MARGARET  What are you made of? you'll nor fight nor fly: 

 Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence, 

 To give the enemy way, and to secure us 

 By what we can, which can no more but fly. 



 Alarum afar off  If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom 

 Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape, 

 As well we may, if not through your neglect, 

 We shall to London get, where you are loved 

 And where this breach now in our fortunes made 

 May readily be stopp'd. 



 Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD  YOUNG CLIFFORD  But that my heart's on future mischief set, 

 I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly: 

 But fly you must; uncurable discomfit 

 Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts. 

 Away, for your relief! and we will live 

 To see their day and them our fortune give: 

 Away, my lord, away! 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry VI, part 2  | Act 5, Scene 2 

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