| |
London. A Room in the Palace. | |
| |
Flourish. 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, | 5 |
| 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. | 10 |
| 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, | |
| Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, | |
| The knights and gentlemen to come with thee: | 15 |
| Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, | |
| Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find | |
| Men wellinclin’d to hear what thou command’st: | |
| And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov’d | |
| In Oxfordshire, shalt muster up thy friends. | 20 |
| My sov’reign, with the loving citizens, | |
| Like to his island girt in with the ocean, | |
| Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs, | |
| Shall rest in London till we come to him. | |
| Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply. | 25 |
| Farewell, my sovereign. | |
| 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. | 30 |
| Oxf. [Kissing HENRY’S hand.] And thus 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 all but KING HENRY and EXETER. | |
| K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest awhile. | 35 |
| 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. | |
| K. Hen. That’s not my fear; my meed hath got me fame: | 40 |
| I have not stopp’d mine ears to their demands, | |
| Nor posted off their suits with slow delays; | |
| My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, | |
| My mildness hath allay’d their swelling griefs, | |
| My mercy dried their water-flowing tears; | 45 |
| I have not been desirous of their wealth; | |
| Nor much oppress’d them with great subsidies, | |
| Nor forward of revenge, though they much err’d. | |
| Then why should they love Edward more than me? | |
| No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace: | 50 |
| And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb, | |
| The lamb will never cease to follow him. [Shout within, ‘A Lancaster! A Lancaster!’ | |
| Exe. Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are these? | |
| |
Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers. | |
| K. Edw. Seize on the shame-fac’d Henry! bear him hence: | 55 |
| 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. | 60 |
| 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, | 65 |
| And take the great-grown traitor unawares: | |
| Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. [Exeunt. | |
| |
