873 Qu. Welcome my Lord, to this braue town of Yorke,

874Yonders the head of that Arch-enemy,

875That sought to be incompast with your Crowne.

876Doth not the obiect cheere your heart, my Lord.

877 K. I, as the rockes cheare them that feare their wrack,

878To see this sight, it irkes my very soule:

879With-hold reuenge (deere God) 'tis not my fault,

880Nor wittingly haue I infring'd my Vow.

881Clif. My gracious Liege, this too much lenity

882And harmfull pitty must be layd aside:

883To whom do Lyons cast their gentle Lookes?

884Not to the Beast, that would vsurpe their Den.

885Whose hand is that the Forrest Beare doth licke?

886Not his that spoyles her yong before her face.

887Who scapes the lurking Serpents mortall sting?

888Not he that sets his foot vpon her backe.

889The smallest Worme will turne, being troden on,

890And Doues will pecke in safegard of their Brood.

891Ambitious Yorke, did leuell at thy Crowne,

892Thou smiling, while he knit his angry browes.

893He but a Duke, would haue his Sonne a King,

894And raise his issue like a louing Sire.

895Thou being a King, blest with a goodly sonne,

896Did'st yeeld consent to disinherit him:

897Which argued thee a most vnlouing Father.

898Vnreasonable Creatures feed their young,

899And though mans face be fearefull to their eyes,

900Yet in protection of their tender ones,

901Who hath not seene them euen with those wings,

902Which sometime they haue vs'd with fearfull flight,

903Make warre with him that climb'd vnto their nest,

904Offering their owne liues in their yongs defence?

905For shame, my Liege, make them your President:

906Were it not pitty that this goodly Boy

907Should loose his Birth-right by his Fathers fault,

908And long heereafter say vnto his childe,

909What my great Grandfather, and Grandsire got,

910My carelesse Father fondly gaue away.

911Ah, what a shame were this? Looke on the Boy,

912And let his manly face, which promiseth

913Successefull Fortune steele thy melting heart,

914To hold thine owne, and leaue thine owne with him.

915King. Full well hath Clifford plaid the Orator,

916Inferring arguments of mighty force:

917But Clifford tell me, did'st thou neuer heare,

918That things ill got, had euer bad successe.

919And happy alwayes was it for that Sonne,

920Whose Father for his hoording went to hell:

921Ile leaue my Sonne my Vertuous deeds behinde,

922And would my Father had left me no more:

923For all the rest is held at such a Rate,

924As brings a thousand fold more care to keepe,

925Then in possession any iot of pleasure.

926Ah Cosin Yorke, would thy best Friends did know,

927How it doth greeue me that thy head is heere.

928 Qu. My Lord cheere vp your spirits, our foes are nye,

929And this soft courage makes your Followers faint:

930You promist Knighthood to our forward sonne,

931Vnsheath your sword, and dub him presently.

932Edward, kneele downe.

933King. Edward Plantagenet, arise a Knight,

934And learne this Lesson; Draw thy Sword in right.

935Prin. My gracious Father, by your Kingly leaue,

936Ile draw it as Apparant to the Crowne,

937And in that quarrell, vse it to the death.

938Clif. Why that is spoken like a toward Prince.

940Mess. Royall Commanders, be in readinesse,

941For with a Band of thirty thousand men,

942Comes Warwicke backing of the Duke of Yorke,

943And in the Townes as they do march along,

944Proclaimes him King, and many flye to him,

945Darraigne your battell, for they are at hand.

946Clif. I would your Highnesse would depart the field,

947The Queene hath best successe when you are absent.

948Qu. I good my Lord, and leaue vs to our Fortune.

949King. Why, that's my fortune too, therefore Ile stay.

950North. Be it with resolution then to fight.

951Prin. My Royall Father, cheere these Noble Lords,

952And hearten those that fight in your defence:

953Vnsheath your Sword, good Father: Cry S. George.

956 Edw. Now periur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace?

957And set thy Diadem vpon my head?

958Or bide the mortall Fortune of the field.

959Qu. Go rate thy Minions, proud insulting Boy,

960Becomes it thee to be thus bold in termes,

961Before thy Soueraigne, and thy lawfull King?

962Ed. I am his King, and he should bow his knee:

963I was adopted Heire by his consent.

964Cla. Since when, his Oath is broke: for as I heare,

965You that are King, though he do weare the Crowne,

966Haue caus'd him by new Act of Parliament,

967To blot out me, and put his owne Sonne in.

968Clif. And reason too,

969Who should succeede the Father, but the Sonne.

970Rich. Are you there Butcher? O, I cannot speake.

971Clif. I Crooke-back, here I stand to answer thee,

972Or any he, the proudest of thy sort.

973 Rich. 'Twas you that kill'd yong Rutland, was it not?

974Clif. I, and old Yorke, and yet not satisfied.

975Rich. For Gods sake Lords giue signall to the fight.

976War. What say'st thou Henry,

977Wilt thou yeeld the Crowne?

978 Qu. Why how now long-tongu'd Warwicke, dare (you speak?

979When you and I, met at S. Albons last,

980Your legges did better seruice then your hands.

981 War. Then 'twas my turne to fly, and now 'tis thine:

982Clif. You said so much before, and yet you fled.

983 War. 'Twas not your valor Clifford droue me thence.

984 Nor. No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.

985Rich. Northumberland, I hold thee reuerently,

986Breake off the parley, for scarse I can refraine

987The execution of my big-swolne heart

988Vpon that Clifford, that cruell Child-killer.

989Clif. I slew thy Father, cal'st thou him a Child?

990Rich. I like a Dastard, and a treacherous Coward,

991As thou didd'st kill our tender Brother Rutland,

992But ere Sunset, Ile make thee curse the deed.

993 King. Haue done with words (my Lords) and heare

994me speake.

995Qu. Defie them then, or els hold close thy lips.

996King. I prythee giue no limits to my Tongue,

997I am a King, and priuiledg'd to speake.

998 Clif. My Liege, the wound that bred this meeting here,

999Cannot be cur'd by Words, therefore be still.

1000Rich. Then Executioner vnsheath thy sword:

1001By him that made vs all, I am resolu'd,

1002That Cliffords Manhood, lyes vpon his tongue.

1003Ed. Say Henry, shall I haue my right, or no:

1004A thousand men haue broke their Fasts to day,

1005That ne're shall dine, vnlesse thou yeeld the Crowne.

1006War. If thou deny, their Blood vpon thy head,

1007For Yorke in iustice put's his Armour on.

1008 Pr.Ed. If that be right, which Warwick saies is right,

1009There is no wrong, but euery thing is right.

1010War. Who euer got thee, there thy Mother stands,

1011For well I vvot, thou hast thy Mothers tongue.

1012Qu. But thou art neyther like thy Sire nor Damme,

1013But like a foule mishapen Stygmaticke,

1014Mark'd by the Destinies to be auoided,

1015As venome Toades, or Lizards dreadfull stings.

1016Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,

1017Whose Father beares the Title of a King,

1018(As if a Channell should be call'd the Sea)

1019Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,

1020To let thy tongue detect thy base-borne heart.

1021 Ed. A wispe of straw were worth a thousand Crowns,

1022To make this shamelesse Callet know her selfe:

1023Helen of Greece was fayrer farre then thou,

1024Although thy Husband may be Menelaus;

1025And ne're was Agamemnons Brother wrong'd

1026By that false Woman, as this King by thee.

1027His Father reuel'd in the heart of France,

1028And tam'd the King, and made the Dolphin stoope:

1029And had he match'd according to his State,

1030He might haue kept that glory to this day.

1031But when he tooke a begger to his bed,

1032And grac'd thy poore Sire with his Bridall day,

1033Euen then that Sun-shine brew'd a showre for him,

1034That washt his Fathers fortunes forth of France,

1035And heap'd sedition on his Crowne at home:

1036For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy Pride?

1037Had'st thou bene meeke, our Title still had slept,

1038And we in pitty of the Gentle King,

1039Had slipt our Claime, vntill another Age.

1040 Cla. But when we saw, our Sunshine made thy Spring,

1041And that thy Summer bred vs no increase,

1042We set the Axe to thy vsurping Roote:

1043And though the edge hath something hit our selues,

1044Yet know thou, since we haue begun to strike,

1045Wee'l neuer leaue, till we haue hewne thee downe,

1046Or bath'd thy growing, with our heated bloods.

1047Edw. And in this resolution, I defie thee,

1048Not willing any longer Conference,

1049Since thou denied'st the gentle King to speake.

1050Sound Trumpets, let our bloody Colours waue,

1051And either Victorie, or else a Graue.

1052Qu. Stay Edward.

1053Ed. No wrangling Woman, wee'l no longer stay,

1054These words will cost ten thousand liues this day.