From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
With aid of soldiers to this needful war.

RICH. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:

Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,

But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.

WAR. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou

hear;

For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine

Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head,
And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war

As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer.
RICH. I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame

me not:

'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
But in this troublous time what's to be done?
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.

WAR. Why, therefore Warwick came to seek

out;

And therefore comes my brother Montague.
Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
And of their feather many moe proud birds,
Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax,

you

He swore consent to your succession,
His oath enrolled in the parliament;
And now to London all the crew are gone,
To frustrate both his oath and what beside
May make against the house of Lancaster.
Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong:
Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
And once again cry Charge upon our foes!

But never once again turn back and fly.

RICH. Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick

speak:

Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,

That cries Retire, if Warwick bid him stay.

EDW. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; And when thou fail'st- -as God forbid the hour!— Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!

WAR. No longer Earl of March, but Duke of
York:

The next degree is England's royal throne;
For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
In every borough as we pass along;

for joy

And he that throws not up his cap
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown,

But sound the trumpets, and about our task. RICH. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,

As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,

I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.

EDW. Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us!

Enter a Messenger.

WAR. How now! what news?

MESS. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, The queen is coming with a puissant host; And craves your company for speedy counsel. WAR. Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's

away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Before York.

Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE OF WALES, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets.

Q. MAR. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.

Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy

That sought to be encompass'd with your crown : Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?

K. HEN. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck :

To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault,
Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow.

CLIF. My gracious liege, this too much lenity And harmful pity must be laid aside.

To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
Not his that spoils her young before her face.
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
Not he that sets his foot upon her back.

The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows:
He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
And raise his issue, like a loving sire ;
Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son,
Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
Which argued thee a most unloving father.
Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
Who hath not seen them, even with those wings
Which sometime they have used with fearful flight,
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
Were it not pity that this goodly boy

Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
And long hereafter say unto his child,
What my great-grandfather and grandsire got

My careless father fondly gave away?

Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; And let his manly face, which promiseth

Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart

To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
K. HEN. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
Inferring arguments of mighty force.

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
That things ill-got had ever bad success?
And happy always was it for that son
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
And would my father had left me no more!
For all the rest is held at such a rate
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep
Than in possession any jot of pleasure.

Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know
How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!

Q. MAR. My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh,

And this soft courage makes your followers faint. You promised knighthood to our forward son: Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. Edward, kneel down.

K. HEN. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. PRINCE. My gracious father, by your kingly leave,

I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,

And in that quarrel use it to the death.

CLIF. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.