K. Edw. Sail how thou canft,
Have Wind and Tide thy Friend,
This Hand, faft wound about thy Coal-black Hair,
Shall, whiles thy Head is warm, and new cut off,
Write in the Duft this Sentence with thy Blood,
Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.
Enter Oxford, with Drum and Colours.
War. O chearful Colours, fee where Oxford comes.
Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster.
Glo. The Gates are open, let us enter too.
K. Edw. So other Foes may fet upon our Backs.
Stand we in good Array; for they no doubt
Will iffue out again, and bid us Battel:
If not, the City being but of fmall defence,
We'll quickly rouze the Traitors in the fame.
War. Oh welcome Oxford, for we want thy help.
Enter Montague, with Drum and Colours.
Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancafter.
Glo. Thou and thy Brother both fhall buy this Treason Even with the dearest Blood your Bodies bear. K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater Victory, My Mind prefageth happy Gain, and Conqueft. Enter Somerlet, with Drum and Colours.
Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster.
Glo. Two of thy Name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Have fold their Lives unto the Houfe of York,
And thou shalt be the third, if this Sword hold.
Enter Clarence, with Drum and Colours.
War. And lo, where George of Clarence (weeps along,
Of force enough to bid his Brother Battel:
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.
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 the Stones together,
And fet up Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is fo harfh, fo blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal Inftruments of War
Against his Brother, and his lawful King.
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy Oath:
To keep that Oath were more Impiety,
Than Jepthah, when he facrific'd his Daughter.
I am fo forry for my Trefpafs made,
That to deserve well at my Brother's Hands,
I here proclaim my felf thy mortal Foe:
With Resolution, wherefoe'er I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou ftir Abroad,)
To plague thee for thy foul mif-leading me.
And fo proud-hearted Warwick, I defie thee,
And to my Brother turn my blufhing Cheeks.
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends:
And Richard, do not frown upon my Faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconftant.
K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times more belov'd, Than if thou never had'ft deferv'd my Hate.
Glo. Welcome, good Clarence, this is Brother-like.
War. O palling Traitor, perjur'd and unjust.
K. Edw. What Warwick,
Wilt thou leave the Town and fight?
Or fhall we beat the Stones about thine Ears?
War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet prefently,
And bid thee Battel, Edward, if thou dar'ft.
K. Edw. Yes Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way: Lords to the Field; St. George and Victory.
[Exeunt. March. Warwick and his Company follows.
Alarum and Excurfions. Enter Edward bringing forth Warwick wounded.
K. Edw. So, lye thou there; die thou, and die our fear, For Warwick was a Bug that fear'd us all.
Now Montague fit faft, i feck for thee,
That Warwick's Bones may keep thine Company.
War. Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, Friend, or For,
And tell me who is Victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled Body fhews,
My Blood, my want of Strength, my fick Heart fhews,
That I muft yield my Eody to the Earth,
And by my fall, the conqueft to my Foe.
Thus yields the Cedar to the Ax's edge,
Whofe Arms gave shelter to the Princely Eagle,
Uuder whofe fhade the ramping Lion flept,
Whole top-branch over-peer'd Jove's ipreading Tree,
And kept low Shrubs from Winter's pow'rful Wind.
Thefe Eyes, that now are dim'd with Death's black Veil,
Have been às piercing as the Mid-day Sun,
To fearch the fecret Treafons of the World:
The wrinkles in my Brows, now fill'd with Blod,
Were lik'ned oft to Kingly Sepulchres:
For who liv'd King, but I could dig his Grave?
And who durft fmile, when Warwick bent his Brow?
Lo, now my Glory fmear'd in Duft and Biood,
My Parks, my Walks, my Manors that I had,
Even now forfake me; and of all my Lands,
Is nothing left me, but my Body's length.
Why, what is Pomp, Rule, Reign, but Earth and Duft?
And live we how we can, yet die we must.
Enter Oxford and Somerfet.
Sem. Ah Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are,
We might recover all our Lofs again :
The Queen from France hath brought a puiffant Power,
Even now we heard the News: Ah, could ft thoù fly.
War. Why then I would not fly. Ah Montague,
If thou be there, fweet Brother, take my Hand,
And with thy Lips keep in my Soul a while.
Thou lov❜ft me not; for, Brother, if thou didft,
Thy Tears would wash this cold congealed Blood,
That glews my Lips, and will not let me fpeak.
Come quickly Montague, or I am dead.
Som. Ah Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his laft,
And to the lateft gafp, cry'd out for Warwick:
And faid, commend me to my valiant Brother.
And more he would have faid, and more he spoke,
And founded like a Cannon in a Vault,
That mought not be diftinguifh'd; but at laft,
I well might hear delivered with a Groan,
O farewel Warwick.
War. Sweet reft his Soul;
Fly Lords, and fave your felves,
For Warwick bids you all farewel, to meet in Heaven. [Dies.
Oxf. Away, away, to meet the Queen's great Power.
Here they bear away his Body.
Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Gloucester, Clarence, and the reft.
K. Edw. Thus far our Fortune keeps an upward course,
And we are grac'd with wreaths of Victory;
But in the midst of this bright-fhining Day,
I fpy a black fufpicious threatning Cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious Sun,
E'er he attain his eafeful Western Bed:
I mean, my Lords, thofe Powers that the Queen
Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our Coaft,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little Gale will foon difperfe that Cloud,
And blow it to the Source from whence it came;
Thy very Beams will dry thofe Vapours up,
For every Cloud engenders not a Storm.
Glo. The Queen is valued thirty thousand ftrong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
If he hath time to breathe, be well affur'd
Her Faction will be full as ftrong as ours.
K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving Friends,
That they do hold their courfe toward Tewksbury.
We having now the beft at Barnet Fjeld,
Will thither traight, for willingness rids way,
And as we march, our ftrength will be augmented,
In every Country as we go along:
Strike up the Drum, cry Courage, and away.
[Exeunt. March. Enter the Queen, Prince of Wales, Somerset, Oxford, and Soldiers.
Queen. Great Lords, wife Men ne'er fit and wail their But chearly feek how to redrefs their Hams.
What though the Maft be now blown over-board,
The Cable broke, the holding-Anchor loft,
And half our Sailors fwallow'd in the Flood?
Yet lives our Pilot ftili. Is't meet that he
Should leave the Helm, and like a fearful Lad,
With tearful Eyes add Water to the Sea,
And give more ftrength to that which hath too much,
Whiles in his moan, the Ship fplits on the Rock,
Which Industry and Courage might have fav'd?
Ah what a fhame, ah what a fault were this.
Say, Warwick was our Anchor; what of that?
And Montague our Top-maft; what of tin?
Our flaughter'd Friends, the Tackles; what of these?
Why is not Oxford here another Anchor?
And Somerset, another goodly Mast?
The Friends of France our Shrowds and Tacklings?
And though unski ful, why not Ned and I,
For once allow'd the skilful Pilot's Charge?
We will not from the Helm to fit and weep,
But keep our Course, though the 1ough Wind fay no,
From Shelves and Rocks, that threaten us with Wrack,
As good to chide the Waver, as fpeak them fair.
And what is Edward, but a ruthless Sea?
What Clarence, but a Quick-fand of Deceit?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal Rock?
All these, the Enemies to our poor Bark.
Say you can swim, alas, 'tis but a while;
Tread on the Sand, why there you quickly fink;
Beftride the Rock, the Tide will wath you off,
Or else you famish, that's a three-fold Death.
This fpeak I, Lords, to let you understand,
In cafe fome one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for Mercy with the Brothers,
More than with ruthlefs Waves, with Sands and Rocks.
Why courage then, what cannot be avoided,
'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear,
Prince. Methinks a Woman of this valiant Spirit
Should, if a Coward heard her fpeak these words,
Infuse his Breaft with Magnanimity,
And make him, naked, foil a Man at Arms.
I speak not this, as doubting any here:
For did I but fufpect a fearful Man,
He fhould have leave to go away betimes,
Left in our need he might infect another,
And make him of like Spirit to himself.
If any fuch be here, as God forbid,
Let him depart before we need his help.
Oxf. Women and Children of fo high a Courage,
And Warriors faint! why 'twere perpetual Shame.
Oh brave young Prince! thy famous Grandfather
Doth live again in thee; long may'ft thou live,
To bear his Image, and renew his Glories.
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