Act 2, Scene 1

A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire.

[A march. Enter EDWARD and RICHARD, with their Power.]
Edward IV
588 I wonder how our princely father scap'd,
589 Or whether he be scap'd away or no
590 From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit.
591 Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;
592 Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;
593 Or had he scap'd, methinks we should have heard
594 The happy tidings of his good escape.—
595 How fares my brother? why is he so sad?
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
596 I cannot joy until I be resolv'd
597 Where our right valiant father is become.
598 I saw him in the battle range about,
599 And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
600 Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
601 As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
602 Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,
603 Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
604 The rest stand all aloof and bark at him.
605 So far'd our father with his enemies;
606 So fled his enemies my warlike father.
607 Methinks 'tis pride enough to be his son.—
608 See how the morning opes her golden gates
609 And takes her farewell of the glorious sun.
610 How well resembles it the prime of youth,
611 Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!
Edward IV
612 Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
613 Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
614 Not separated with the racking clouds,
615 But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
616 See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
617 As if they vow'd some league inviolable;
618 Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
619 In this the heaven figures some event.
Edward IV
620 'T is wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
621 I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
622 That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
623 Each one already blazing by our meeds,
624 Should, notwithstanding, join our lights together,
625 And overshine the earth, as this the world.
626 Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
627 Upon my target three fair shining suns.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
628 Nay, bear three daughters; by your leave I speak it,
629 You love the breeder better than the male.—
[Enter a Messenger.]
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
630 But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
631 Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?
Messenger
632 Ah, one that was a woeful looker-on
633 When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
634 Your princely father and my loving lord.
Edward IV
635 O, speak no more, for I have heard too much!
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
636 Say how he died, for I will hear it all.
Messenger
637 Environed he was with many foes,
638 And stood against them as the hope of Troy
639 Against the Greeks that would have ent'red Troy.
640 But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
641 And many strokes, though with a little axe,
642 Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
643 By many hands your father was subdu'd,
644 But only slaught'red by the ireful arm
645 Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen,
646 Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite,
647 Laugh'd in his face, and when with grief he wept
648 The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks,
649 A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
650 Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain.
651 And, after many scorns, many foul taunts,
652 They took his head, and on the gates of York
653 They set the same; and there it doth remain,
654 The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.
Edward IV
655 Sweet Duke of York! our prop to lean upon,
656 Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
657 O Clifford! boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain
658 The flower of Europe for his chivalry;
659 And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
660 For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.
661 Now my soul's palace is become a prison.
662 Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
663 Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
664 For never henceforth shall I joy again,
665 Never, O, never, shall I see more joy!
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
666 I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture
667 Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
668 Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen,
669 For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
670 Is kindling coals that fires all my breast
671 And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
672 To weep is to make less the depth of grief;
673 Tears, then, for babes, blows and revenge for me!—
674 Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
675 Or die renowned by attempting it.
Edward IV
676 His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
677 His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
678 Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
679 Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun;
680 For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say:
681 Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.
[March. Enter WARWICK and MONTAGUE, with their Army.]
Earl of Warwick
682 How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad?
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
683 Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
684 Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance
685 Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
686 The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
687 O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!
Edward IV
688 O, Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet
689 Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption
690 Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.
Earl of Warwick
691 Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears,
692 And now, to add more measure to your woes,
693 I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
694 After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
695 Where your brave father breath'd his latest gasp,
696 Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
697 Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
698 I, then in London, keeper of the king,
699 Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends,
700 And very well appointed, as I thought,
701 March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen,
702 Bearing the king in my behalf along;
703 For by my scouts I was advertised
704 That she was coming with a full intent
705 To dash our late decree in parliament
706 Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
707 Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met,
708 Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought;
709 But, whether 't was the coldness of the king,
710 Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
711 That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen,
712 Or whether 't was report of her success,
713 Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
714 Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
715 I cannot judge; but, to conclude with truth,
716 Their weapons like to lightning came and went,
717 Our soldiers',—like the night-owl's lazy flight,
718 Or like an idle thrasher with a flail—
719 Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
720 I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause,
721 With promise of high pay and great rewards,
722 But all in vain; they had no heart to fight,
723 And we in them no hope to win the day;
724 So that we fled: the king unto the queen;
725 Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself,
726 In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you;
727 For in the marches here, we heard, you were
728 Making another head to fight again.
Edward IV
729 Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
730 And when came George from Burgundy to England?
Earl of Warwick
731 Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers;
732 And for your brother, he was lately sent
733 From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
734 With aid of soldiers to this needful war.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
735 'T was odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled;
736 Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
737 But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.
Earl of Warwick
738 Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
739 For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine
740 Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head
741 And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
742 Were he as famous and as bold in war
743 As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
744 I know it well, Lord Warwick, blame me not;
745 'T is love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
746 But in this troublous time what's to be done?
747 Shall we go throw away our coats of steel
748 And wrap our bodies in black mourning-gowns,
749 Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
750 Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
751 Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
752 If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.
Earl of Warwick
753 Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out,
754 And therefore comes my brother Montague.
755 Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
756 With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
757 And of their feather many moe proud birds,
758 Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax.
759 He swore consent to your succession,
760 His oath enrolled in the parliament;
761 And now to London all the crew are gone,
762 To frustrate both his oath and what beside
763 May make against the house of Lancaster.
764 Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong;
765 Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
766 With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
767 Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
768 Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
769 Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
770 And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
771 And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
772 But never once again turn back and fly.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
773 Ay, now, methinks, I hear great Warwick speak.
774 Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day
775 That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay.
Edward IV
776 Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
777 And when thou fail'st—as God forbid the hour!—
778 Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!
Earl of Warwick
779 No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York.
780 The next degree is England's royal throne;
781 For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
782 In every borough as we pass along,
783 And he that throws not up his cap for joy
784 Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
785 King Edward,—valiant Richard,— Montague,—
786 Stay we no longer dreaming of renown,
787 But sound the trumpets and about our task.
Richard Plantagenet (Gloucester)
788 Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
789 As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
790 I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
Edward IV
791 Then strike up, drums!—God and Saint George for us!
[Enter a Messenger.]
Earl of Warwick
792 How now! what news?
Messenger
793 The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
794 The queen is coming with a puissant host,
795 And craves your company for speedy counsel.
Earl of Warwick
796 Why then it sorts; brave warriors, let's away.
[Exeunt.]

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Notes

TLN 590historical topical
“Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit”
Edward and Richard do not know whether their father, the Duke of York, survived the Lancastrian rout at Wakefield. Lord Clifford (the son of the Clifford slain at the First Battle of St Albans) and Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, led the Lancastrian forces that pursued the fleeing Yorkists after Wakefield.
historical The First Battle of St Albans
TLN 600rhetorical device
“bore him in the thickest troop As doth a lion in a herd of neat”
Richard compares his father's charge through the Lancastrian troops to a lion cutting through a herd of cattle. 'Neat' is an archaic word for cattle, especially oxen or cows. The simile frames York as a lordly predator surrounded by inferior, panic-stricken beasts — a standard image of heroic courage in Elizabethan martial poetry.
TLN 608rhetorical device
“morning opes her golden gates And takes her farewell of the glorious sun”
Richard personifies the dawn as a woman opening her 'golden gates' to bid farewell to the sun. 'Younker' (line 611) is an archaic term for a young gallant or fine gentleman, so the dawn is 'trimmed' (dressed up) like a fashionable young man on the way to meet his lover.
TLN 612historical topical
“Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns”
Edward sees three distinct suns in the sky that gradually merge into one. This is an atmospheric phenomenon called a 'parhelion' (or 'sun dog') — a natural optical effect where ice crystals in the air cause two bright spots to appear beside the real sun, creating the appearance of three suns. Shakespeare takes the episode from Holinshed, who reports that Edward IV claimed to have seen it before the Battle of Mortimer's Cross (1461).
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 638classical allusion
“stood against them as the hope of Troy Against the Greeks that would have ent'red Troy”
The Messenger compares York holding off his enemies to the Trojan defenders who stood against the Greek army at the walls of Troy. 'The hope of Troy' means the Trojan heroes — specifically Hector and others — who kept the Greeks from breaking into the city for ten years.
classical The fall of Troy: Pyrrhus and Priam
TLN 640classical allusion
“Hercules himself must yield to odds”
The Messenger invokes Hercules as the classical byword for the strongest of men. Even Hercules, the mightiest hero of Greek myth, could not prevail against impossible odds — so York's defeat by a vastly larger force is no disgrace.
classical Hercules and his labours
TLN 641rhetorical device
“many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak”
The Messenger uses a proverb to explain how many lesser blows can bring down even the strongest opponent: repeated small strikes, even from a weak axe, eventually fell the hardest oak. This was a common Elizabethan proverb, found in collections like John Heywood's Proverbs (1546): 'Many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks.'
TLN 646historical topical
“crown'd the gracious duke in high despite”
Margaret and Clifford placed a paper crown on York's head before killing him — a grotesque mockery of his claim to the throne. 'High despite' means utter contempt and scorn. The Messenger adds that Queen Margaret gave York a cloth soaked in his murdered young son Rutland's blood to wipe his tears with, compounding the cruelty.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 661rhetorical device
“Now my soul's palace is become a prison”
Edward says grief has turned his body — which should be a fine 'palace' for his soul — into a prison. The image draws on the commonplace that the body is the soul's dwelling place; when the soul is tormented with grief, the body becomes a place of confinement rather than rest.
TLN 666rhetorical device
“all my body's moisture Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart”
Richard says he cannot weep: all his body's moisture — which should produce tears — is barely enough to cool the furnace of rage burning inside him. He adds that the very breath he would need to speak his grief is itself feeding the fire, and tears would only quench that fire, making his grief smaller.
TLN 678classical allusion
“if thou be that princely eagle's bird, Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun”
Richard challenges Edward with an old legend: the true offspring of an eagle could stare directly into the sun without blinking, while a bastard eagle-chick could not. Richard is saying Edward must prove he is truly York's son by daring to look at the 'sun' — here meaning the throne of England.
TLN 694historical topical
“bloody fray at Wakefield fought, Where your brave father breath'd his latest gasp”
Warwick confirms that York died at the Battle of Wakefield (30 December 1460), where the Lancastrian forces under Margaret, Clifford, and Northumberland ambushed and routed the Duke of York's army. 'Latest gasp' means final breath.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 701historical topical
“March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen”
Warwick describes the Second Battle of St Albans (17 February 1461), where Margaret's Lancastrian army defeated his Yorkist forces and recaptured King Henry VI. This was a major reversal: Warwick had been holding the King in London as a political asset, but lost both the battle and the King's person.
historical The First Battle of St Albans
TLN 711archaic vocab
“robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen”
In Elizabethan physiology the 'spleen' was the organ believed to be the source of hot, passionate emotions — especially anger and fighting spirit. 'Heated spleen' means warlike fury and the will to fight. Warwick says the sight of Henry VI (who looked 'full gently on his warlike queen') drained his soldiers of their aggression.
TLN 749cultural context
“Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads”
Richard dismisses any idea of mourning and prayer. 'Ave-Maries' are the Hail Mary prayers of Catholic devotion; 'beads' are a rosary, the string of prayer beads Catholics used to count how many prayers they had said. Together the phrase stands for passive, contemplative piety — which Richard contrasts with active revenge.
TLN 756archaic vocab
“haught Northumberland, And of their feather many moe proud birds”
'Haught' is an archaic form of 'haughty,' meaning arrogantly proud. 'Of their feather many moe proud birds' means many more proud persons of the same kind — birds of the same feather, a phrase that persists today as 'birds of a feather.' Warwick is listing the arrogant Lancastrian lords who have bent Henry VI to their will.
TLN 779historical topical
“No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York. The next degree is England's royal throne”
Warwick formally advances Edward's titles one step at a time: Edward has been 'Earl of March' (his earldom by inheritance); now he is 'Duke of York' (inheriting his slain father's dukedom); and the next step is king. This is how the Yorkist claim to the throne was publicly staged — a chain of titles leading upward to the crown.
historical Edward III and his seven sons
TLN 791cultural context
“God and Saint George for us”
'God and Saint George!' was the standard English battle-cry from the later medieval period onward. Saint George, a Roman soldier-martyr of the third century, became the patron saint of England in the fourteenth century (the Order of the Garter, founded c. 1348, was placed under his protection). The cry identifies the Yorkist cause with England's national patron.
historical The Order of the Garter