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ACT V.

SCENE I. Coventry.

Enter, upon the walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, Two Messengers, and others.

War. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?

How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?

1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

War. How far off is our brother Montague? Where is the post that came from Montague?

2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILle.

War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? And, by the guess, how nigh is Clarence now? Som. At Southam I did leave him with his forces, And do expect him here some two hours hence. [Drum heard. 'War. Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum. *Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies. *The drum your honor hears, marcheth from Warwick. *War. Who should that be? belike, unlooked-for

friends.

* Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.

Drums. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces, marching.

*K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.

Glo. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall! War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come? Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced, That we could hear no news of his repair?

*K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city

gates,

Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee?
Call Edward-king, and at his hands beg mercy,
And he shall pardon thee these outrages.

' War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence, Confess who set thee up and plucked thee down? Call Warwick-patron, and be penitent,

And thou shalt still remain the duke of York.

Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said—the king;

Or did he make the jest against his will?

* War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift? Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give; *I'll do thee service for so good a gift.1

' War. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother. K. Edw. Why, then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight; And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

*K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's pris

oner;

'And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,-
What is the body, when the head is off?

Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
'The king was slyly fingered from the deck!?
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,3
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?4 strike now, or else the iron cools. * War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,

1 That is, enroll myself among thy dependents.

2 A pack of cards was anciently termed a deck of cards, or a pair of cards.

3 The palace of the bishop of London.

4 This expression of impatience has been already noticed.

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* And with the other fling it 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 colors.

* War. O, cheerful colors! 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 colors. 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 matched, the greater victory; *My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest.

Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colors.

Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the city. Glo. Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset,'

1 The first of these noblemen was Edmund, slain at the battle of St. Albans, 1455. The second was Henry, his son, beheaded after the battle of Hexham, 1463. The present duke, Edmund, brother to Henry, was taken prisoner at Tewksbury, 1471, and there beheaded; his brother John losing his life in the same fight.

Have sold their lives unto the house of York;
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colors.

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 lime1 the stones together,

And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick, 'That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt,2 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 *Than Jephtha's, when he sacrificed his daughter. *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,)
* 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.

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K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times more

beloved,

Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.

1 i. e. to cement.

2 i. e. stupid.

Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike. War. O, passing traitor, perjured, 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 cooped 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.

Lords, to the field. Saint George, and victory.

[March. Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Field of Battle near Barnet.

Alarums and Excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing in WARWICK, wounded.

*K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our

fear;

* For Warwick was a bug,' that feared us all.

* Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
*That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

[Exit.

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 overpeered Jove's spreading tree,
* And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.
*These eyes, that now are dimmed with death's black

veil,

* Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,

1 Warwick was the bugbear that frightened us all.

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