Hast. The good old man would fain that all were well, So 'twere not 'long of him: but, being enter'd, Re-enter the Mayor, and two Aldermen, below. K. Edw. So, master mayor: these gates must not be shut, But in the night, or in the time of war. Drum. Enter MONTGOMERY, and Forces, Glo. Brother, this is sir John Montgomery, K. Edw. Welcome, sir John! But why come you in arms? Mont. To help king Edward in his time of storm, As every loyal subject ought to do. K. Edw. Thanks, good Montgomery: But we now forget Our title to the crown; and only claim By what safe means the crown may be recover'd. To keep them back, that come to succour you : Glo. Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points? K. Edw. When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim: Till then, 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning. Hast. Away with scrupulous wit! now arms must rule. Glo. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns. Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand; K. Edw. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right, And Henry but usurps the diadem. Mont. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself; And now will I be Edward's champion. Hast. Sound, trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd: Come, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation. [Gives him a paper. Flourish. Sold. [Reads.] Edward the fourth, by the grace of God, king of England and France, and lord of Ireland, &c. Mont. And whosoe'er gainsays king Edward's right, By this I challenge him to single fight. [Throws down his gauntlet. All. Long live Edward the fourth! K. Edw. Thanks, brave Montgomery;—and thanks If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness. We'll forward towards Warwick, and his mates; Ah, froward Clarence!-how evil it beseems thee, SCENE VIII.-London. A room in the palace. 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, -- 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. Oaf. And thus [Kissing Henry's hand.] 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 War. Clar. Oxf. and Mont. K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest a while. 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. I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands, [Shout within. A Lancaster! A Lancaster! Exe. Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are these? Enter King EDWARD, Gloster, 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. ACT V. SCENE I-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? 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. War. How far off is our brother Montague?— Where is the post that came from Montague? 2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVille. War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? And, by the guess, how nigh is Clarence now? |