Forces.

May. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming,

And shut the gates for safety of ourselves;
For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.

K. Edw. But, master mayor, if Henry be your king, Yet Edward, at the least, is duke of York.

May. True, my good lord; I know you for no less. K. Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom;

As being well content with that alone.

Glo. But when the fox hath once got in his nose, He'll soon find means to make the body follow. [Aside. Hast. Why, master mayor, why stand you in a doubt?

Open the gates, we are king Henry's friends.
May. Ay, say you so? the gates shall then be
open'd.
[Exeunt from above.
Glo. A wise stout captain, and persuaded soon!
Hast. The good old man would fain that all were
well,

So 'twere not 'long of him: but, being enter'd,
I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade
Both him and all his brothers unto reason.

Re-enter the Mayor and two Aldermen, below.
K. Edw. So, master mayor: these gates must not
be shut,

But in the night or in the time of war.
What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;
[Takes his keys.
For Edward will defend the town and thee,
And all those friends that deign to follow me.
Drum. Enter MONTGOMERY, and Forces, marching.
Glo. Brother, this is sir John Montgomery,
Our trusty friend, unless I be deceiv'd.

K. Edw. Welcome, sir John! But why come
you in arms?

Mont. To help king Edward in his time of storm, As every loyal subject ought to do.

[A March begun.

K. Edw. Nay, stay, sir John, a while; and we'll debate,

By what safe means the crown may be recover'd.
Mont. What, talk you of debating? in few words,
If you'll not here proclaim yourself our king,
I'll leave you to your fortune; and be gone,
To keep them back that come to succour you:
Why should we fight, if you pretend no title?
Glo. Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice
points?

K. Edw. When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim:

Till then, 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning. Hast. Away with scrupulous wit! now arms must rule.

Glo. And fearless minds climb soonest unto

crowns.

Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.

K. Edw. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right, And Henry but usurps the diadem.

Mont. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself;

And now will I be Edward's champion.

Hast. Sound, trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd:

Come, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation. [Gives him a paper.

Flourish. Sold. [Reads.] Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God, king of England and France, and lord of Ireland, &c.

Mont. And whosoe'er gainsays king Edward's right,

By this I challenge him to single fight,

-

[Throws down his Gauntlet, All. Long live Edward the Fourth! K. Edw. Thanks, brave Montgomery; and thanks unto you all. If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness. Now for this night, let's harbour here in York: And, when the morning sun shall raise his car Above the border of this horizon,

SCENE VIII. - London. A Room in the Palace.
Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, CLARENCE,
MONTAGUE, EXETER, and OXFORD.
War. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans, and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
And with his troops doth march amain to London;
And many giddy people flock to him.

Orf. Let's levy men, and beat him back again.
Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out;

War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;

8 Noise, report.

9 Know.

The king was slily finger'd from the deck! 2
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.
K. Edw. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
Glo. Come, Warwick, 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 at thy face,
Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.

K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend;

This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, Shall, whiles the head is warm, and new cut off, Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood, Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.

Enter OXFORD, with Drum and Colours. War. O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes!

Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[OXFORD and his Forces enter the City. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too. K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs : Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt, Will issue out again, and bid us battle: If not, the city, being but of small defence, We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same. War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help. Enter MONTAGUE, with Drum and Colours. 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 your bodies bear.

K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory; My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest.

Enter SOMERSET, with Drum and Colours. Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the City. 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.

Enter CLARENCE, with Drum and Colours. War. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,

Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
More than the nature of a brother's love: -
Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick calls.
Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this
means? [Taking the red Rose out of his Cap.
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:
I will not ruinate my father's house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt 3, 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.
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,)

2 A pack of cards was formerly termed a deck of cards.
3 Insensible.

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 4 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 here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.
K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads
the way :-

[Exi.

War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me friend, or foe,
And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows,
That I must 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 mid-day 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;
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.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are, We might recover all our loss again!

The queen from France hath brought a puissant

And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
But in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:

I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
Hath 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 advértis'd by our loving friends, That they do hold their course towards Tewksbury; We, having now the best at Barnet field,

Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
And, as we march, our strength will be augmented
In every county as we go along. –
Strike up the drum; cry-Courage! and away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Plains near Tewksbury.

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 over-board,
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 top-mast; 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 unskilful, why not Ned and I

For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep;
But keep our course, though the rough wind say—no,
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.
As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
And what 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 understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.
Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
"Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit
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 betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as heaven forbid!
Let him depart, before we need his help.

Orf. Women and children of so high a courage!
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.-
O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
To bear his image, and renew his glories!
Doth live again in thee; Long mayst thou live,

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 ;ford, thanks.

-sweet Ox

Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else.

K. Edw. 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 7, 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,

My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this:

reign,

- Henry, your sove

Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,

7 Know.