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Henry VI, Part II
William Shakespeare
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eBook - ePub
Henry VI, Part II
William Shakespeare
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Classic Books Library presents this new beautiful edition of William Shakespeare's play, "Henry VI, Part 2", the second of a three-part saga. This edition features a specially commissioned new biography of William Shakespeare. Rebellion and treason threaten the crown with the risk of civil war. Depicted as a weak leader, King Henry finds himself under attack by Richard, Duke of York, and is compelled to flee to London with Queen Margaret, followed by his own forces. The second part in a trilogy chronicling the life of King Henry VI of England. William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616) was an English playwright, poet, and actor. He is considered to be the greatest writer in the English language and is celebrated as the world's most famous dramatist.
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Arte dramático shakespearianoACT IV.
SCENE I. The Coast of Kent.
[Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners.]
CAPTAIN.
The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night,
Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings,
Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
Here shall they make their ransom on the sand
Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.—
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;—
And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;—
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night,
Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings,
Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
Here shall they make their ransom on the sand
Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.—
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;—
And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;—
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
1 GENTLEMAN.
What is my ransom, master? let me know?
What is my ransom, master? let me know?
MASTER.
A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
MATE.
And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
CAPTAIN.
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?—
Cut both the villains' throats;—for die you shall.
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpois'd with such a petty sum!
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?—
Cut both the villains' throats;—for die you shall.
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpois'd with such a petty sum!
1 GENTLEMAN.
I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
2 GENTLEMAN.
And so will I, and write home for it straight.
And so will I, and write home for it straight.
WHITMORE.
I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,—
[To Suffolk] And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die;—
And so should these, if I might have my will.
I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,—
[To Suffolk] And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die;—
And so should these, if I might have my will.
CAPTAIN.
Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
SUFFOLK.
Look on my George; I am a gentleman.
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
Look on my George; I am a gentleman.
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
WHITMORE.
And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now! why start'st thou? What, doth death affright?
And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now! why start'st thou? What, doth death affright?
SUFFOLK.
Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
A cunning man did calculate my birth
And told me that by water I should die.
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.
Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
A cunning man did calculate my birth
And told me that by water I should die.
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.
WHITMORE.
Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not.
Never yet did base dishonour blur our name
But with our sword we wip'd away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not.
Never yet did base dishonour blur our name
But with our sword we wip'd away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
SUFFOLK.
Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
WHITMORE.
The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in...
The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in...