Methinks, the power, that Edward hath in field, Should not be able to encounter mine.

Exe. The doubt is, that he will seduce the rest.
K. Hen. That's not my fear, my meed hath
got me fame.

I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
My mercy dry'd their water-flowing tears:
I have not been desirous of their wealth,
Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd;
Then why should they love Edward more than me?
No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace;
And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
The lamb will never cease to follow him.
[Shout within. A Lancaster! A Lancaster!
Exe. Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are
these?

Enter King EDWARD, Gloster, and Soldiers. K. Edw. Seize on the shame-fac'd Henry, bear him hence,

And once again proclaim us king of England.— You are the fount, that makes small brooks to flow;

Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry,

And swell so much the higher by their ebb.Hence with him to the Tower; let him not

speak. [Exeunt some with King Henry. And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course, Where peremptory Warwick now remains : The sun shines hot, and, if we use delay, Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.

Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join, And take the great-grown traitor unawares: Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. [Exeunt.

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 honour hears, marcheth from Warwick.

War. Who should that be? belike, unlook'dfor 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 seduc'd, 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 pluck'd 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.

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

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 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 colours. War. O cheerful colours! see, where Oxford comes !

Orf. 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 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, unnatural, To bend the fatal instruments of war

Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath:
To keep that oath, were more impiety
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrific'd 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.
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 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:

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 fear'd 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 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

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, And with thy lips keep in my soul a while! Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst, Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood, That glews my lips, and will not let me speak. Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his last;

And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick,
And said-Commend me to my valiant brother.
And more he would have said; and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a cannon in a vault,
That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last,
I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,—
O, farewell, Warwick !

War. Sweet rest to his soul!-
Fly, lords, and save yourselves; for Warwick bids
You all farewell, to meet again in heaven.

[Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt, bearing off Warwick's body.

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 valu'd 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 toward Tewksbury;

We, having now the best at Barnet field,
Will thither strait, 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 ED

WARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD, and Soldiers.

Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men neʼer 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 winds
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.

Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, 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 God 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 Doth live again in thee; Long may'st thou live, To bear his image, and renew his glories!

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 ;-sweet Oxford, thanks.

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

SCENE V.-Another part of the same. Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat. Then enter King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils.

Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight: For Somerset, off with his guilty head.

Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak. Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.

Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded. Q.Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world, To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

K. Edw. Is proclamation made,—that, who finds Edward,

Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Glo. Itis: and lo, where youthful Edward comes.

Enter Soldiers, with Prince EDWARD. K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak:

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick? Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?

Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York!

Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to. Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd!

Glo. That you might still have worn the pet

ticoat,

And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.
Prince. Let Æsop fable in a winter's night;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that
word.

Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague

K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful; Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,-And thou mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all, I am your better, traitors as ye are ;And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer here. [Stabs him.

Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy [Glo. stabs him,

agony.

VOL. II.

I