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Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
But ne'er, till now, his scandal of retire:

War. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear's
For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine
Can pluck the Diadem from faint Henry's head,
And wring the awful scepter from his fift,
Were he as famous and as bold in war,
As he is fam'd for mildness, peace and prayer:

Rich. I know it well, Lord Warwick, blaine me tiotz 'Tis love, I bear thy glories, makes me speak. But in this troublous time what's to be done? Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns Numb'ring our Ave Maries with our beads? Or shall we on the helmets of our foes Tell our devotion with revengeful arms ? If for the last, fay; ay; and to it, Lords.

War. Why, therefore Warwick camte to seek you out; And therefore comes my brother Montague. Attend me, Lords. The proud infulting Queen; With Clifford; and the haught Northumberland, And of their feather many more proud birds, Have wrought * the ealy melting King, like wax: He swore consent to your fucceffion, His oath inrolled in the parliament'; And now to London all the crew are gone; To frustrate both his oath, and what beside May make againit the house of Lancasier. Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong ; Now if the help of Norfolk and myself, With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March Amongst the loving Welfromen canst procure; Will but amount to five and twenty thousands Why, Via! to London will re mareh amain, And once again bestride our foaming steeds;

--the easy-meling King, like As red as fire; nay, then beri tubex

wax.) So again in this play, of the lady Gray, VOL. V:



muft inelt.

And once again cry, Charge upon our foes !
But never once again turn back, and Ay.

Ricb. Ay, now, methinks, I hear great Warwick

speak :

Ne'er may

he live to see a sun shine day, That cries, retire, --if Warwick bid him stay.

Edw. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean, And when thou fail'ít, (as God forbid the hour!) Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forefend!

War. No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York; The next degree is England's royal throne, For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd In every borough as we pass along, And he, that throws not up his cap for joy, Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown; But found the trumpets, and about our task.

Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shewn it fincy by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
Edw. Then strike up, drums ; God and St. George
for us!

Enter a Messenger.
War. How now? what news?

Mes. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
The Queen is coming with a puissant hoft;
And craves your company for speedy counsel.
War. Why then it sorts ; brave warriors, let's

[Excunt omnes. * Why then it forts.] Why then things are as they should be.



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Changes to York. Enter King Henry, the Queen, Clifford, Northumber

land, and the Prince of Wales, with Drums and Trumpets. . Elcome, my Lord, to this brave town of

York. Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy, That sought to be encompast with your crown. Doth not the object cheer your heart, my Lord? K. Henry. Ay, as the rocks cheer them, that fear

their wreck. To see this fight, it irks my very soul. - With hold revenge, dear God; 'tis not my fault, Nor wittingly have I infring'd my vow.

Clif. My gracious Liege, this too much lenity
And harmful pity must be laid aside.
To whom do Lions cait their gentle looks?
Not to the beast, that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick ?
Not his, that spoils her young before her face.
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
Not he, that sets his foot upon her back.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on ;
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Ambitious York did level at thy crown;
Thou smiling, while he knit his angry brows.
He but a Duke, would have his son a King,
And raise his issue, like a loving fire,
Thou being a King, bleft with a goodly son,
Didit yield consent to disinherit him,
Which argu'd thee a most unloving father.
Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
And tho'man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,

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Who hath not seen them (even with those wings,
Which sometimes they have us’d with fearful Hight)
Make war with him that climb'd unto their neft,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence ?
For shame, my Liege, make them your precedent;,
Were it not pity, that this goodly boy
Should lofe his birth-right by his father's fault,
And long hereafter fay unto his child,
What my great grandfather and grandfire got,
My careless father fondly gave away!
Ah, what a shame was this ! look on the boy,
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
To hold thine own, and leave thine own with him.

K. Henry. Full well hath Clifford plaid the orator,
Inferring arguments of mighty force.
But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,
That things ill got

had ever bad fuccess?
And happy always was it for that son,
* Whole father for his hoarding went to hell ?
I'll kcave my fon my virtuous deeds behind;
And ’would, my father had left me no more !
For all the rest is held at such a rate,
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep,
Than in poffeffion any jot of pleasure.
Ah, Coulin York; 'would, thy best friends did know;.
How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!
Queen. My Lord, cheer up your spirits, our foes

are nigh;
And this soft courage makes your followers faint;
You promis'd knighthood to our forward fon,
Unsheath your sword, and dub him presently.
Edward, kneel down.

K. Henry. Edward Plantagenet, arise a Knight;
And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right.

Prince. My gracious father, by your kingly leave, I'll draw it as Apparent to the crown, Alluding to a common Proverb.


And in that quarrel use it to the death.
Clif. Why, that is spoken like a toward Prince.

Enter a Messenger.
Mef. Royal commanders, be in readiness;
For, with a band of thirty thoufand 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. Queen. Ay, good my Lord, and leave us to our

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

l'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. Unsheath your sword, good father; cry, St. George!

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March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, Clarence,

Norfolk, Montague, and Soldiers.
Edw. Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for

And set thy Diadem upon my head;
Or 'bide the mortal fortune of the field ?

Queen. 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, bis oath is broke, for, as I hear, You that are King, though he do wear the crown,

Darraign] That is, range your host, put your hofts in order.


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