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.

March. Enter MONTGOMERY, with drum and soldiers.

Glou. Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery, Our trusty friend, unless I be deceived.

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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..

K. Edw. Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now forget

Our title to the crown and only claim

Our dukedom till God please to send the rest. Mont. Then fare you well, for I will hence again :

I came to serve a king and not a duke. Drummer, strike up, and let us march away. 50 [The drum begins to march. K. Edw. Nay, stay, Sir John, awhile, 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 shall we fight, if you pretend no title?
Glou. 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. 60 Hast. Away with scrupulous wit! now.arms must rule.

Glou. 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. 70 [Flourish. Sold. 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,

80

We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
Ah, froward Clarence! how evil it beseems thee,
To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and War-
wick.

And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.
Come on, brave soldiers: doubt not of the day,

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. London. The palace. Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, MONTAGUE, Clarence, 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.

K. Hen. Let's levy men, and beat him back again.

Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out; Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,

ΙΟ

Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence,
Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk and in Kent,
The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:
Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
Northampton and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st:
And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved,
In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
Like to his island girt in with the ocean,
Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
Shall rest in London till we come to him.
Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.
Farewell, my sovereign.

20

K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope.

Clar. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand.

And all at once, once more a happy farewell. War. Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry.

[Exeunt all but King Henry and Exeter. K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest awhile. Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship? 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:

40

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 dried 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, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers.

50

Where slept our scouts, or how are they

seduced,

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

30

Or did he make the jest against his will?
War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
Glou. 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
prisoner:

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

40

Glou. Alas, that Warwick had no more fore

cast,

But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
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.

Glou. 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.

50

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

This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, Shall, whiles thy 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!

[He and his forces enter the city. Glou. The gates are open, let us enter too. 60 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. Glou. 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!

70

[He and his forces enter the city. Glou. 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
call.

80

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

[Taking his red rose out of his hat. 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
Against his brother and his lawful king?
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath:
To keep that oath were more impiety

90

Than Jephthah'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.
K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times
more beloved,

TOO

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.

Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory! [Exeunt King Edward and his company. March. Warwick and his company follow.

SCENE II. A field of battle near Barnet. Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing forth 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,

ΙΟ

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 lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile when Warwick bent his
brow?

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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.

Even now we heard the news: ah, couldst thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile!
Thou lovest me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
Som. Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breathed
his last;
40

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 clamour in a vault,
That mought not be distinguish'd; but at last
I well might hear, deliver'd with a groan,
'O, farewell, Warwick!'

War. Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;

For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven. [Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power! [Here they bear away his body.

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 overboard,
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,

9

Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have saved?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Montague our topmast; 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?

20

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
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with
wreck.

no,

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, 31
Or else you famish; that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,

If case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hoped-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

4I

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.
Oxf. Women and children of so high a cou-