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Somer. At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.
Somer. It is not his, my Lord: here Southam lies : The drum your honour hears, marcheth from Warwick.
War. Who should that be ? belike, unlook’d-for friends.
Somer. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. March. Flourish. Enter King Edward, Glocester, and
Soldiers. K. Edzw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and found a parle. Glo. See, how the surly Warwick mans the wall. War. On, unbid spight! 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 ftill 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 Allas 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 : And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this, What the body when the head is off?
Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more fore-caft,
K. Edw. 'Tis even fo; yet you are Warwick still.
kneel down :
War. I'd rather chop this hand off at a blow,
Enter Oxford, with Drum and Colours. War. O chearful colours ! see, where Oxford comes ! (20) But rubile be thought to steal the single ten, The King was sily finger'd from the deck.) Tho' there may seem no consonance of metaphors betwixt a single ten, and a deck, the latter word being grown obsolete, and not acknowledg’d by our di&tionaries in the sense here required ; yet deck, in all our noribern counties, is to this day used to signify a pack or ftock of cards.
The allufion to cards every reader must have observ'd is very familiar with our author; but I'll subjoin a few instances in proof, that occur to me at present. Antony and Cleopatra.
-She Eros, she
As sure a card, as ever won the set.
A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!
Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten. i Henry VI.
There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
Oxf. Qxford! Oxford! for Lancaster.
K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs.
Enter Montague, with Drum and Colours. Mont. Montague! Montague ! for Lancaster.
Gle. Thou, and thy brother both, shall buy this treason Ev’n with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory; My mind presageth happy gain and conqueft.
Enter Somerset, with Drum and Colours.
Glo. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Enter Clarence, with Drum and Colours.
together ; and then Clarence takes his red rose out of
bis hat, and throws it at Warwick.] (21) Clar. Father of Warwick, know you, what this means ? Look, here, I throw my infamy at thee : I will not ruinate my father's house, Who gave
his blood to lime these stones together, (21) A Parley is founded, &c.] This neceffary note of direction, which explains the matter in action, I restor’d from the old Quarto. And, without it, it is impoffible that any reader can guess at the meaning of this line of Clarence; Laak, bere I tbrow my infamy at tbees
And fet op Lancaster. Why, trow'lt thou, Warwick,
K. Ed. Now welcome more, and ten times more belov'd, Than if thou never hadît deserv'd our hate.
Glo. Welcome, good Clarence, this is brother-like. War. O pafling traitor, perjur'd and unjuft!
K.E.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 ;
K. E. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way: Lords, to the field; St. George and victory! [Exeunt.
March. Warwick and his company follow.
SCENE, a Field of Battle near Barnet.
Ala"um and excurfions. Enter Edward, bringing fortb
Warwick wounded. K. Edw.
there; die thou, and die our fear;
For Warwick Now, Montague, fit 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,
Enter Oxford and Somerset.
War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Montague,
Linquenda tellus & Domus, & placens
Lib. ii. Ode 14