Enter a Messenger.

MESS. Royal commanders, be in readiness:
For with a band of thirty thousand men
Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York;
And in the towns, as they do march along,
Proclaims him king, and many fly to him:
Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.

CLIF. I would your highness would depart the field:

The queen hath best success when you are absent. Q. MAR. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our

fortune.

K. HEN. Why, that's my fortune too; therefore

I'll stay.

NORTH. Be it with resolution then to fight. PRINCE. My royal father, cheer these noble lords And hearten those that fight in your defence: Unsheathe yours word, good father; cry Saint George! March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WAR

WICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers. EDW. Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace,

And set thy diadem upon my head;

Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?

Q. MAR. Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy!

Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms

Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?

EDW. I am his king, and he should bow his knee; I was adopted heir by his consent:

Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,

You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, Have caused him, by new act of parliament,

To blot out me, and put his own son in.

CLIF. And reason too:

Who should succeed the father but the son?

RICH. Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!

CLIF. Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,

Or any he the proudest of thy sort.

RICH. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?

CLIF. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. RICH. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

WAR. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

Q. MAR. Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak?

When you and I met at Saint Alban's last,
Your legs did better service than your hands.

WAR. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now'tis thine.
CLIF. You said so much before, and yet you fled.
WAR. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me
thence.

NORTH. No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.

RICH. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain

The execution of my big-swoln heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

CLIF. I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child ? RICH. Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed.

K. HEN. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

Q. MAR. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. K. HEN. I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: I am a king, and privileged to speak.

Cur. My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here

Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still.
RICH. Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword:
By him that made us all, I am resolved
That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.

EDW. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. WAR. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; For York in justice puts his armour on.

PRINCE. If that be right which Warwick says is right,

There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

RICH. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. Q. MAR. But thou art neither like thy sire nor

dam;

But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic,

Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,

As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings.
RICH. Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king,—

As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-
Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art
extraught,

To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? EDW. A wisp of straw were worth a thousand

crowns,

To make this shameless callet know herself.
Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd
By that false woman, as this king by thee.
His father revell'd in the heart of France,
And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop;
And had he match'd according to his state,
He might have kept that glory to this day;
But when he took a beggar to his bed,

And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day,
Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him,
That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France
And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?
Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept ;
And we, in pity of the gentle king,

Had slipp'd our claim until another age.

GEO. But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,

And that thy summer bred us no increase,
We set the axe to thy usurping root;

And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike,
We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down,
Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods.
EDW. And, in this resolution, I defy thee;
Not willing any longer conference,

Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak.
Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave!
And either victory, or else a grave.

Q. MAR. Stay, Edward.

EDW. No, wrangling woman, we 'll no longer stay: These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A field of battle between Tonton and Saxton,

Alarum.

in Yorkshire.

Excursions. Enter WARWICK.

WAR. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, I lay me down a little while to breathe; For strokes received, and many blows repaid, Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. Enter EDWARD, running.

EDW. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death!

For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. WAR. How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good?