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 lyes: 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 fhall quickly know. March. Flourish. Enter King Edward, Glocefter, 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 sportful 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 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, Confefs who fet thee up and pluck'd thee down, Call Warwick patron, and be penitent?

And thou fhalt ftill remain the Duke of York.

Glo. I thought, at leaft, he would have faid 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.

I

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 fo 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 prifoner : And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this, What is the body when the head is off?

Gla. Alas! that Warwick had no more fore-caft,

But

But while he thought to steal 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 still.
Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel down,
kneel down:

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 strike 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 sentence 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 Lancaster !

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 treafon: Ev'n with the dearest blood your bodies bear.

K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory; My mind prefageth happy gain and conquest.

Enter Somerfet, with drum and colours.

Som. Somerfet! Somerfet! for Lancaster.
Gla. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,

H4

Have

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

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? Look, here, I throw my infamy at thee:

I will not ruinate my father's houfe,

Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And fet up Lancaster. Why, trow'ft thou, Warwicks.
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 Fepthah's, when he facrific'd his daughter.
I am fo forry for my trefpafs made,

That, to deserve 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 defie 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 unconftant.

(9) A Parley is founded, &c.] This neceffary Note of Di-. rection, which explains the Matter in Action, I' restor'd from. the old Quarto. And, without it, it is impoffible that, any Reader can guess at the Meaning of this Line of Clarence ;.

Look, bere I throw my Infamy at Thee,

K. Edw.

K. Edw. 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. Edw. 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. ́Alarum and Excurfions. Enter Edward, bringing forth Warwick wounded.

K. Edw.CO, lye thou there: die thou, and die our
Fear;

For Warwick was a bug, that fear'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 ask 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.
Thus yields the Cedar to the ax's edge,
Whofe arms gave fhelter to the princely eagle;
Under whose shade the ramping lion flept,

Whofe top branch over-peer'd Jove's fpreading tree,

And kept low fhrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.
These 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.

H.5

Thee

The wrinkles in my brow, now fill'd with blood
Were lik'ned oft to kingly fepulchres:

For who liv'd King, but I could dig his grave?
And who durft fmile, when Warwick bent his brow?
Lo! now my glory smear'd in duft and blood,
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Ev'n now forfake me; and of all my lands
Is nothing left me, but my body's length.
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust ?
And live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter Oxford and Somerfet.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are, We might recover all our lofs again:

The Queen from France hath brought a puiffant Pow'r:
Ev'n now we heard the news: ah, could'ft thou fly!
War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Montague.
If thou be there, fweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my foul a while.
Thou lov ft me not; for, brother, if thou didft,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood,
That glews my lips, and will not let me fpeak..
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Som. Ah Warwick, Montague, hath breath'd his last And to the latest gafp cry'd out for Warwick:

And faid, Commend me to my valiant brother.

And more he would have faid, and more he spoke,.
Which founded like a cannon in a vault,

That might not be diftinguifh'd; but at laft
I well might hear deliver'd, with a groan,
O, farewel, Warwick!

War. Sweetly reft his foul!

Fly, lords, and fave yourselves; for Warwick bids
You all farewel, to meet again in heaven.

[Dies

Oxf, Away, away, to meet the Queen's great power. [They bear away bis Body, and Exeunt.

SCENE