London. A Room in the Palace. |
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Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, CLARENCE, MONTAGUE, EXETER, and OXFORD. |
| War What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia, |
| With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders, |
| Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas, |
| And with his troops doth march amain to London; |
| And many giddy people flock to him. |
| Oxf. Let's levy men, and beat him back again. |
| Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out, |
| 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, |
| Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, |
| The knights and gentlemen to come with thee: |
| Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, |
| Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find |
| Men wellinclin'd to hear what thou command'st: |
| And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov'd |
| In Oxfordshire, shalt muster up thy friends. |
| My sov'reign, with the loving citizens, |
| Like to his island girt in with the ocean, |
| Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs, |
| Shall rest in London till we come to him. |
| Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply. |
| Farewell, my sovereign. |
| K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope. |
| Clar. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand. |
| K. Hen. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate! |
| Mont. Comfort, my lord; and so, I take my leave. |
| Oxf. [Kissing HENRY'S hand.] And thus I seal my truth, and bid adieu. |
| K. Hen. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague, |
| And all at once, once more a happy farewell. |
| War. Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry. [Exeunt all but KING HENRY and EXETER. |
| K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest awhile. |
| 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, |
| My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs, |
| My mercy dried their water-flowing tears; |
| I have not been desirous of their wealth; |
| Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies, |
| Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd. |
| Then why should they love Edward more than me? |
| No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace: |
| 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? |
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Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, 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: |
| Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry, |
| And swell so much the higher by their ebb. |
| Hence with him to the Tower! let him not speak. [Exeunt some with KING HENRY. |
| And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course, |
| Where peremptory Warwick now remains: |
| The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay, |
| Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay. |
| Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join, |
| And take the great-grown traitor unawares: |
| Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. [Exeunt. |
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