Now ftops thy fpring, my fea fhall fuck them dry,
And fwell fo much the higher, by their ebb.
Hence with him to the Tower, let him not fpeak.
[Exeunt with King Henry.
And, Lords, to Coventry bend we our courfe,
Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
The fun fhines hot; and if we ufe 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 tow'rds Coventry. [Exeunt.

SCENE, before the Town of Coventry. Enter Warwick, the Mayor of Coventry, two Meffengers and others, upon the walls.

WE

WARWICK.

Here is the poft, that came from valiant Oxford? How far hence is thy Lord, mine honeft fellow ? 1 Mef. By this at Dunfmore, marching hither-ward. War. How far off is our brother Montague? Where is the poft, that came from Montague? 2 Mef. By this at Daintry, with a puiffant troop.

Enter Somerville.

War. Say, Somerville, what fays my loving fon? And by thy guess how nigh is Clarence now?

Somerv. At Southam I did leave him with his forces, And do expect him here fome two hours hence. War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum. Somerv. It is not his, my Lord: here Southam lies: The drum, your honour hears, marcheth from Warwick.

War. Who fhould that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends.
Somerv. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.

March. Flourish. Enter King Edward, Gloucefter, and Soldiers.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and found a parle. Glo. See, how the furly Warwick mans the wall. War. Oh, unbid fpight! is fportful Edward come? Where flept our fcouts, or how are they feduc'd, That we could hear no news of his repair?

K. Edw. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the eity-gates, Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee, Call Edward King, and at his hands beg mercy. ? And he fhall pardon thee these outrages.

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence, Confefs who fet thee up and pluck'd thee down, Call Warwick patron, and be penitent?

And thou shalt ftill remain the Duke of York.

Glo. I thought, at leaft, he would have said the King;

Or did he make the jeft 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 fervice for fo good a gift.

:

War.'Twas I, that gave the Kingdom to thy brother. K. Ed. Why, then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift. War. Thou art no Atlas for fo great a weight And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my King, Warwick his fubject.

K. Edw. But Warwick's King is Edward's prifoner:

And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,

What is the body when the head is off?

Glo. Alas! that Warwick had no more fore-cast, But while he thought to fteal the fingle ten, The King was flily 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 fo; yet you are Warwick ftill. Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel down,

kneel down:

Nay,

i

Nay, when? ftrike now, or else the iron cools.
War. I'd rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other fling it at thy face,

Than bear fo low a fail, to ftrike to thee.

K. Edw. Sail, how thou canft; have wind and tide
thy friend:

This hand, faft wound about thy coal-black hair,
Shall, while thy head is warm and new cut off,
Write in the duft this fentence 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 Lancasier !

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 battle:
If not, the city being of fmall defence,
We'll quickly rouze the traitors in the fame.
War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.

Enter Montague, with drum and colours.

Mont. Montague! Montague! for Lancaster!
Glo. Thou, and thy brother both, fhall buy this treason
Ev'n with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory;
My mind prefageth happy gain and conqueft.

Enter Somerfet, with drum and colours.

Som. Somerfet! Somerfet! for Lancaster!
Glo. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Have fold their lives unto the house of York,
And thou shalt be the third, if this fword hold.

Enter Clarence, with drum and colours.

War. And lo! where George of Clarence fweeps 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.

[A Parley is founded; Richard and Clarence whisper together; and then Clarence takes his red rofe out of bis hat, and throws it at Warwick.] (9)

Cla. 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 ftones together,
And fet up Lancaster. Why, trow'ft 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 Jepthab's, when he facrific'd his daughter.
I am fo forry for my trefpafs made,

That, to deferve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myfelf thy mortal foe:
With refolution, 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 defy 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.

(9) A Parley is fourded, &c.] This neceffary Note of Direction," which explains the Matter in Action, I restored from the old Quarts. And, without it, it is impoffible that any Reader can guefs at the Meaning of this Line of Clarence;

Lock, here I throw my Infamy at Thee.

K. Edw.

K.E. Now, welcome more, and ten times more belov'd, Than if thou never hadft deferv'd our hate.

Glo. Welcome, good Clarence, this is brother-like.
War. O paffing traitor, perjur'd and unjust!

K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town
and fight?

Or fhall we beat the ftones 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'ft.

K.Ed. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way: Lords, to the field; St. George and victory! [Exeunt.

March. Warwick and his Company follow.

SCENE, a Field of Battle near Barnet.

Alarm and Excurfions. Enter Edward, bringing forth Warwick wounded.

K. Edw.

O, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear : For Warwick was a bug, that fcar'd us all, Now, Montague, fit faft, I feek for thee;

That Warwick's bones may keep thine company. [Exit.
War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend, or foe,
And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick ?
Why afk I that? my mangled body fhews,

My blood, my want of ftrength, my fick heart fhews
That I muft yield my body to the earth,
And, by my Fall, the Conqueft to my foe.
That yields the cedar to the ax's edge,
Whofe arms gave fhelter to the princely eagle;
Under whofe fhade the ramping lion flept,

Whofe top branch over-peer'd Jove's fpreading tree,
And kept low fhrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.
Thefe eyes, that now are dim'd with death's black veil,
Have been as piercing as the mid-day Sun,

To fearch the fecret treafons of the world.
The wrinkles in my brow, now fill'd with blood,
Were liken'd oft to gly fepulchres.

H 5

For