Henry VI, Part 3 (Folio 1, 1623)
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¶
Flourish. Enter Richard, Edward, and
¶Mountague.
310leaue.
¶Edward. No, I can better play the Orator.
¶
Enter the Duke of Yorke.
315What is your Quarrell? how began it first?
¶Yorke. About what?
¶ Rich. About that which concernes your Grace and vs,
¶The Crowne of England, Father, which is yours.
320Yorke. Mine Boy? not till King Henry be dead.
¶ Richard. Your Right depends not on his life, or death.
¶Edward. Now you are Heire, therefore enioy it now:
¶It will out-runne you, Father, in the end.
¶reigne.
¶ Edward. But for a Kingdome any Oath may be broken:
¶I would breake a thousand Oathes, to reigne one yeere.
330sworne.
¶ Richard. Ile proue the contrary, if you'le heare mee
¶speake.
335Richard. An Oath is of no moment, being not tooke
¶Before a true and lawfull Magistrate,
¶That hath authoritie ouer him that sweares.
¶Henry had none, but did vsurpe the place.
340Your Oath, my Lord, is vaine and friuolous.
¶Therefore to Armes: and Father doe but thinke,
¶How sweet a thing it is to weare a Crowne,
¶Within whose Circuit is Elizium,
345Why doe we linger thus? I cannot rest,
¶Vntill the White Rose that I weare, be dy'de
¶Euen in the luke-warme blood of Henries heart.
¶Yorke. Richard ynough: I will be King, or dye.
350And whet on Warwick to this Enterprise.
¶Thou Richard shalt to the Duke of Norfolke,
¶And tell him priuily of our intent.
¶You Edward shall vnto my Lord Cobham,
355In them I trust: for they are Souldiors,
¶Wittie, courteous, liberall, full of spirit.
¶While you are thus imploy'd, what resteth more?
¶And yet the King not priuie to my Drift,
¶
Enter Gabriel.
¶poste?
¶Gabriel. The Queene,
365With all the Northerne Earles and Lords,
¶She is hard by, with twentie thousand men:
¶And therefore fortifie your Hold, my Lord.
¶Yorke. I, with my Sword.
370What? think'st thou, that we feare them?
¶Let Noble Warwicke, Cobham, and the rest,
¶Whom we haue left Protectors of the King,
¶Mount. Brother, I goe: Ile winne them, feare it not.
¶And thus most humbly I doe take my leaue.
¶
Exit Mountague._
380
Enter Mortimer, and his Brother.
¶York. Sir Iohn, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine Vnckles,
¶You are come to Sandall in a happie houre.
¶The Armie of the Queene meane to besiege vs.
385field.
¶Richard. I, with fiue hundred, Father, for a neede.
¶A Woman's generall: what should we feare?
¶
A March afarre off._
390Edward. I heare their Drummes:
¶Let's set our men in order,
¶ Yorke. Fiue men to twentie: though the oddes be great,
¶I doubt not, Vnckle, of our Victorie.
395Many a Battaile haue I wonne in France,
¶When as the Enemie hath beene tenne to one:
