K. Hen. Let's levy men, and beat him back again. Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence, K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope. K. Hen. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate. K. Hen. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague, War. Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry. [Exeunt WAR. CLAR. OXF. and MONT. K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest a while. 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. 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, 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: - [Exeunt some with King HENRY. And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course, Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join, And take the great-grown traitor unawares. ACT V. SCENE I. Coventry. [Exeunt. Enter upon the Walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, Messengers, and Others. War. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford? How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? Two 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. War. How far off is our brother Montague? Where is the post that came from Montague? 2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVIlle. War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son ? And, by thy 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. March. Flourish. Enter King EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces. K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates? 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? I'll do thee service for so good a gift. War. 'T was I, that gave the kingdom to thy brother. And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again : K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner: Glo. Alas! that Warwick had no more forecast, And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower. K. Edw. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still. 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 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! [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. War. O! welcome Oxford, for we want thy help. Enter MONTAGUE, with Drum and Colors. 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, Enter CLARENCE, with Drum and Colours. More than the nature of a brother's love. Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick calls. [GLOSTER and CLARENCE whisper. [Taking the 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, To bend the fatal instruments of war Against his brother, and his lawful king? Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath: That to deserve well at my brother's hands, I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe; |