Coventry. | |
| |
Enter, upon the Walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and Others. | |
| War. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford? | |
| How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? | 4 |
| First Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. | |
| War. How far off is our brother Montague? | |
| Where is the post that came from Montague? | |
| Sec. Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. | 8 |
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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, | 12 |
| And do expect him here some two hours hence. [Drum heard. | |
| War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum. | |
| Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies: | |
| The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick. | 16 |
| War. Who should that be? belike, unlook’d for friends. | |
| Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. | |
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Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, and Forces. | |
| K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle. | 20 |
| Glo. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall. | |
| War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come? | |
| Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc’d, | |
| That we could hear no news of his repair? | 24 |
| 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. | 28 |
| 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. | 32 |
| 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: | 36 |
| 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: | 40 |
| 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, | 44 |
| What is the body, when the head is off? | |
| Glo. Alas! that Warwick had no more forecast, | |
| But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten, | |
| The king was slily finger’d from the deck. | 48 |
| 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. | |
| Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down: | 52 |
| 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. | 56 |
| 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: | 60 |
| ‘Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.’ | |
| |
Enter OXFORD, with Soldiers, drum, and colours. | |
| War. O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes! | |
| Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster! [He and his Forces enter the city. | 64 |
| Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too. | |
| 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: | 68 |
| 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. | |
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Enter MONTAGUE, with Soldiers, drum, and colours. | 72 |
| 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: | 76 |
| My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest. | |
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Enter SOMERSET, with Soldiers, drum, and colours. | |
| Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster! [He and his Forces enter the city. | |
| Glo. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset, | 80 |
| Have sold their lives unto the house of York; | |
| And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold. | |
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Enter CLARENCE, with Forces, drum, and colours. | |
| War. And lo! where George of Clarence sweeps along, | 84 |
| 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. | 88 |
| Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? [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, | 92 |
| 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? | 96 |
| Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath: | |
| To keep that oath were more impiety | |
| Than Jephthah’s, when he sacrific’d his daughter. | |
| I am so sorry for my trespass made | 100 |
| 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— | 104 |
| 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; | 108 |
| 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 belov’d, | |
| Than if thou never hadst deserv’d our hate. | 112 |
| Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like. | |
| War. O passing traitor, perjur’d, and unjust! | |
| K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town, and fight? | |
| Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? | 116 |
| War. Alas! I am not coop’d here for defence: | |
| I will away towards Barnet presently, | |
| And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar’st. | |
| K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way. | 120 |
| Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory! [March. Exeunt. | |