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? |
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. |
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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, |
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. |
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. |
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? |
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. |
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? |
Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give: |
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: |
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, |
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. |
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: |
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 Soldiers, drum, and colours. |
War. O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes! |
Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster! [He 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. |
Stand we in good array; for they no doubt |
Will issue out again and bid us battle: |
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. |
|
Enter MONTAGUE, with Soldiers, drum, and colours. |
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 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, |
Have sold their lives unto the house of York; |
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold. |
|
Enter CLARENCE, with Forces, drum, and colours. |
War. And lo! where George of Clarence sweeps along, |
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. |
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, |
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? |
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 |
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— |
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; |
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. |
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? |
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. |
Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory! [March. Exeunt. |
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