From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring;
From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
Instead whereof, let this supply the room.
Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
Now death.html">death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
I think his understanding is bereft.--
Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life.html">life,
O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth;
Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
If so thou.html">thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
RICHARD.
Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
WARWICK.
While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
RICHARD.
Thou pitiedst Rutland, I will pity thee.
GEORGE.
They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast wont.
RICHARD.
When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.--
If this righthand would buy two hours' life,
This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
WARWICK.
And rear it in the place your father's stands.--
There to be crowned England's royal king;
And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen.
And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
First will I see.html">see the coronation,
To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.
EDWARD.
For in thy shoulder do I build my seat,
Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.--
And George, of Clarence.--Warwick, as ourself,
Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloster,
Tut! that's a foolish observation;
To see these honours in possession.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III.
SCENE I. A Forest in the North of England.
.
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