When you disgrac'd me in my Embassade,
Then I degraded you from being King,
And come now to create you Duke of Yorke.
Alas, how should you gouerne any Kingdome,
That know not how to vse Embassadors,
Nor how to be contented with one Wife,
Nor how to vse your Brothers Brotherly,
Nor how to studie for the Peoples Welfare,
Nor how to shrowd your selfe from Enemies?
K.Edw. Yea, Brother of Clarence,
Art thou here too?
Nay then I see, that Edward needs must downe.
Yet Warwicke, in despight of all mischance,
Of thee thy selfe, and all thy Complices,
Edward will alwayes beare himselfe as King:
Though Fortunes mallice ouerthrow my State,
My minde exceedes the compasse of her Wheele
Warw. Then for his minde, be Edward Englands King,
Takes off his Crowne.
But Henry now shall weare the English Crowne,
And be true King indeede: thou but the shadow.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that forthwith Duke Edward be conuey'd
Vnto my Brother Arch-Bishop of Yorke:
When I haue fought with Pembrooke, and his fellowes,
Ile follow you, and tell what answer
Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
Now for a-while farewell good Duke of Yorke.
They leade him out forcibly.
K.Ed. What Fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both winde and tide.
Exeunt.
Oxf. What now remaines my Lords for vs to do,
But march to London with our Soldiers?
War. I, that's the first thing that we haue to do,
To free King Henry from imprisonment,
And see him seated in the Regall Throne.
Enter.
Enter Riuers, and Lady Gray.
Riu. Madam, what makes you in this sodain change?
Gray. Why Brother Riuers, are you yet to learne
What late misfortune is befalne King Edward?
Riu. What losse of some pitcht battell
Against Warwicke?
Gray. No, but the losse of his owne Royall person
Riu. Then is my Soueraigne slaine?
Gray. I almost slaine, for he is taken prisoner,
Either betrayd by falshood of his Guard,
Or by his Foe surpriz'd at vnawares:
And as I further haue to vnderstand,
Is new committed to the Bishop of Yorke,
Fell Warwickes Brother, and by that our Foe
Riu. These Newes I must confesse are full of greefe,
Yet gracious Madam, beare it as you may,
Warwicke may loose, that now hath wonne the day
Gray. Till then, faire hope must hinder liues decay:
And I the rather waine me from dispaire
For loue of Edwards Off-spring in my wombe:
This is it that makes me bridle passion,
And beare with Mildnesse my misfortunes crosse:
I, I, for this I draw in many a teare,
And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighes,
Least with my sighes or teares, I blast or drowne
King Edwards Fruite, true heyre to th' English Crowne
Riu. But Madam,
Where is Warwicke then become?
Gray. I am inform'd that he comes towards London,
To set the Crowne once more on Henries head,
Guesse thou the rest, King Edwards Friends must downe.
But to preuent the Tyrants violence,
(For trust not him that hath once broken Faith)
Ile hence forthwith vnto the Sanctuary,
To saue (at least) the heire of Edwards right:
There shall I rest secure from force and fraud:
Come therefore let vs flye, while we may flye,
If Warwicke take vs, we are sure to dye.
Exeunt.
Enter Richard, Lord Hastings, and Sir William Stanley.
Rich. Now my Lord Hastings, and Sir William Stanley
Leaue off to wonder why I drew you hither,
Into this cheefest Thicket of the Parke.
Thus stand the case: you know our King, my Brother,
Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands
He hath good vsage, and great liberty,
And often but attended with weake guard,
Come hunting this way to disport himselfe.
I haue aduertis'd him by secret meanes,
That if about this houre he make this way,
Vnder the colour of his vsuall game,
He shall heere finde his Friends with Horse and Men,
To set him free from his Captiuitie.
Enter King Edward, and a Huntsman with him.
Huntsman. This way my Lord,
For this way lies the Game
King Edw. Nay this way man,
See where the Huntsmen stand.
Now Brother of Gloster, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
Stand you thus close to steale the Bishops Deere?
Rich. Brother, the time and case, requireth hast,
Your horse stands ready at the Parke-corner
King Ed. But whether shall we then?
Hast. To Lyn my Lord,
And shipt from thence to Flanders
Rich. Wel guest beleeue me, for that was my meaning
K.Ed. Stanley, I will requite thy forwardnesse
Rich. But wherefore stay we? 'tis no time to talke
K.Ed. Huntsman, what say'st thou?
Wilt thou go along?
Hunts. Better do so, then tarry and be hang'd
Rich. Come then away, lets ha no more adoo
K.Ed. Bishop farwell,
Sheeld thee from Warwickes frowne,
And pray that I may re-possesse the Crowne.
Exeunt.
Flourish. Enter King Henry the sixt, Clarence, Warwicke,
Somerset, young
Henry, Oxford, Mountague, and Lieutenant.
K.Hen. M[aster]. Lieutenant, now that God and Friends
Haue shaken Edward from the Regall seate,
And turn'd my captiue state to libertie,
My feare to hope, my sorrowes vnto ioyes,
At our enlargement what are thy due Fees?
Lieu. Subiects may challenge nothing of their Sou'rains
But, if an humble prayer may preuaile,
I then craue pardon of your Maiestie
K.Hen. For what, Lieutenant? For well vsing me?
Nay, be thou sure, Ile well requite thy kindnesse.
For that it made my imprisonment, a pleasure:
I, such a pleasure, as incaged Birds
Conceiue; when after many moody Thoughts,
At last, by Notes of Houshold harmonie,
They quite forget their losse of Libertie.
But Warwicke, after God, thou set'st me free,
And chiefely therefore, I thanke God, and thee,
He was the Author, thou the Instrument.
Therefore that I may conquer Fortunes spight,
By liuing low, where Fortune cannot hurt me,
And that the people of this blessed Land
May not be punisht with my thwarting starres,
Warwicke, although my Head still weare the Crowne,
I here resigne my Gouernment to thee,
For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds
Warw. Your Grace hath still beene fam'd for vertuous,
And now may seeme as wise as vertuous,
By spying and auoiding Fortunes malice,
For few men rightly temper with the Starres:
Yet in this one thing let me blame your Grace,
For chusing me, when Clarence is in place
Clar. No Warwicke, thou art worthy of the sway,
To whom the Heau'ns in thy Natiuitie,
Adiudg'd an Oliue Branch, and Lawrell Crowne,
As likely to be blest in Peace and Warre:
And therefore I yeeld thee my free consent
Warw. And I chuse Clarence onely for Protector
King. Warwick and Clarence, giue me both your Hands:
Now ioyne your Hands, & with your Hands your Hearts,
That no dissention hinder Gouernment:
I make you both Protectors of this Land,
While I my selfe will lead a priuate Life,
And in deuotion spend my latter dayes,
To sinnes rebuke, and my Creators prayse
Warw. What answeres Clarence to his Soueraignes
will?
Clar. That he consents, if Warwicke yeeld consent,
For on thy fortune I repose my selfe
Warw. Why then, though loth, yet must I be content:
Wee'le yoake together, like a double shadow
To Henries Body, and supply his place;
I meane, in bearing weight of Gouernment,
While he enioyes the Honor, and his ease.
And Clarence, now then it is more then needfull,
Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a Traytor,
And all his Lands and Goods confiscate
Clar. What else? and that Succession be determined
Warw. I, therein Clarence shall not want his part
King. But with the first, of all your chiefe affaires,
Let me entreat (for I command no more)
That Margaret your Queene, and my Sonne Edward,
Be sent for, to returne from France with speed:
For till I see them here, by doubtfull feare,
My ioy of libertie is halfe eclips'd
Clar. It shall bee done, my Soueraigne, with all
speede
King. My Lord of Somerset, what Youth is that,
Of whom you seeme to haue so tender care?
Somers. My Liege, it is young Henry, Earle of Richmond
King. Come hither, Englands Hope:
Layes his Hand on his Head.
If secret Powers suggest but truth
To my diuining thoughts,
This prettie Lad will proue our Countries blisse.
His Lookes are full of peacefull Maiestie,
His Head by nature fram'd to weare a Crowne,
His Hand to wield a Scepter, and himselfe
Likely in time to blesse a Regall Throne:
Make much of him, my Lords; for this is hee
Must helpe you more, then you are hurt by mee.
Enter a Poste.
Warw. What newes, my friend?
Poste. That Edward is escaped from your Brother,
And fled (as hee heares since) to Burgundie
Warw. Vnsauorie newes: but how made he escape?
Poste. He was conuey'd by Richard, Duke of Gloster,
And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
In secret ambush, on the Forrest side,
And from the Bishops Huntsmen rescu'd him:
For Hunting was his dayly Exercise
Warw. My Brother was too carelesse of his charge.
But let vs hence, my Soueraigne, to prouide
A salue for any sore, that may betide.
Exeunt.
Manet Somerset, Richmond, and Oxford.
Som. My Lord, I like not of this flight of Edwards:
For doubtlesse, Burgundie will yeeld him helpe,
And we shall haue more Warres befor't be long.
As Henries late presaging Prophecie
Did glad my heart, with hope of this young Richmond:
So doth my heart mis-giue me, in these Conflicts,
What may befall him, to his harme and ours.
Therefore, Lord Oxford, to preuent the worst,
Forthwith wee'le send him hence to Brittanie,
Till stormes be past of Ciuill Enmitie
Oxf. I: for if Edward re-possesse the Crowne,
'Tis like that Richmond, with the rest, shall downe
Som. It shall be so: he shall to Brittanie.
Come therefore, let's about it speedily.
Exeunt.
Flourish. Enter Edward, Richard, Hastings, and Souldiers.
Edw. Now Brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
Yet thus farre Fortune maketh vs amends,
And sayes, that once more I shall enterchange
My wained state, for Henries Regall Crowne.
Well haue we pass'd, and now re-pass'd the Seas,
And brought desired helpe from Burgundie.
What then remaines, we being thus arriu'd
From Rauenspurre Hauen, before the Gates of Yorke,
But that we enter, as into our Dukedome?
Rich. The Gates made fast?
Brother, I like not this.
For many men that stumble at the Threshold,
Are well fore-told, that danger lurkes within
Edw. Tush man, aboadments must not now affright vs:
By faire or foule meanes we must enter in,
For hither will our friends repaire to vs
Hast. My Liege, Ile knocke once more, to summon
them.
Enter on the Walls, the Maior of Yorke, and his Brethren.
Maior. My Lords,
We were fore-warned of your comming,
And shut the Gates, for safetie of our selues;
For now we owe allegeance vnto Henry
Edw. But, Master Maior, if Henry be your King,
Yet Edward, at the least, is Duke of Yorke
Maior. True, my good Lord, I know you for no
lesse
Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my Dukedome,
As being well content with that alone
Rich. But when the Fox hath once got in his Nose,
Hee'le soone finde meanes to make the Body follow
Hast. Why, Master Maior, why stand you in a doubt?
Open the Gates, we are King Henries friends
Maior. I, say you so? the Gates shall then be opened.
He descends.
Rich. A wise stout Captaine, and soone perswaded
Hast. The good old man would faine that all were wel,
So 'twere not long of him: but being entred,
I doubt not I, but we shall soone perswade
Both him, and all his Brothers, vnto reason.
Enter the Maior, and two Aldermen.
Edw. So, Master Maior: these Gates must not be shut,
But in the Night, or in the time of Warre.
What, feare not man, but yeeld me vp the Keyes,
Takes his Keyes.
For Edward will defend the Towne, and thee,
And all those friends, that deine to follow mee.
March. Enter Mountgomerie, with Drumme and Souldiers.
Rich. Brother, this is Sir Iohn Mountgomerie,
Our trustie friend, vnlesse I be deceiu'd
Edw. Welcome Sir Iohn: but why come you in
Armes?
Mount. To helpe King Edward in his time of storme,
As euery loyall Subiect ought to doe
Edw. Thankes good Mountgomerie:
But we now forget our Title to the Crowne,
And onely clayme our Dukedome,
Till God please to send the rest
Mount. Then fare you well, for I will hence againe,
I came to serue a King, and not a Duke:
Drummer strike vp, and let vs march away.
The Drumme begins to march.
Edw. Nay stay, Sir Iohn, a while, and wee'le debate
By what safe meanes the Crowne may be recouer'd
Mount. What talke you of debating? in few words,
If you'le not here proclaime your selfe our King,
Ile leaue you to your fortune, and be gone,
To keepe them back, that come to succour you.
Why shall we fight, if you pretend no Title?
Rich. Why Brother, wherefore stand you on nice
points?
Edw. When wee grow stronger,
Then wee'le make our Clayme:
Till then, 'tis wisdome to conceale our meaning
Hast. Away with scrupulous Wit, now Armes must
rule
Rich. And fearelesse minds clyme soonest vnto Crowns.
Brother, we will proclaime you out of hand,
The bruit thereof will bring you many friends
Edw. Then be it as you will: for 'tis my right,
And Henry but vsurpes the Diademe
Mount. I, now my Soueraigne speaketh like himselfe,
And now will I be Edwards Champion
Hast. Sound Trumpet, Edward shal be here proclaim'd:
Come, fellow Souldior, make thou proclamation.
Flourish. Sound.
Soul. Edward the Fourth, by the Grace of God, King of
England and France, and Lord of Ireland, &c
Mount. And whosoe're gainsayes King Edwards right,
By this I challenge him to single fight.
Throwes downe his Gauntlet.
All. Long liue Edward the Fourth
Edw. Thankes braue Mountgomery,
And thankes vnto you all:
If fortune serue me, Ile requite this kindnesse.
Now for this Night, let's harbor here in Yorke:
And when the Morning Sunne shall rayse his Carre
Aboue the Border of this Horizon,
Wee'le forward towards Warwicke, and his Mates;
For well I wot, that Henry is no Souldier.
Ah froward Clarence, how euill it beseemes thee,
To flatter Henry, and forsake thy Brother?
Yet as wee may, wee'le meet both thee and Warwicke.
Come on braue Souldiors: doubt not of the Day,
And that once gotten, doubt not of large Pay.
Exeunt.
Flourish. Enter the King, Warwicke, Mountague, Clarence,
Oxford, and
Somerset.
War. What counsaile, Lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hastie Germanes, and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safetie through the Narrow Seas,
And with his troupes doth march amaine to London,
And many giddie people flock to him
King. Let's leuie men, and beat him backe againe
Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
Which being suffer'd, Riuers cannot quench
War. In Warwickshire I haue true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in Warre,
Those will I muster vp: and thou Sonne Clarence
Shalt stirre vp in Suffolke, Norfolke, and in Kent,
The Knights and Gentlemen, to come with thee.
Thou Brother Mountague, in Buckingham,
Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well enclin'd to heare what thou command'st.
And thou, braue Oxford, wondrous well belou'd,
In Oxfordshire shalt muster vp thy friends.
My Soueraigne, with the louing Citizens,
Like to his Iland, gyrt in with the Ocean,
Or modest Dyan, circled with her Nymphs,
Shall rest in London, till we come to him:
Faire Lords take leaue, and stand not to reply.
Farewell my Soueraigne
King. Farewell my Hector, and my Troyes true hope
Clar. In signe of truth, I kisse your Highnesse Hand
King. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate
Mount. Comfort, my Lord, and so I take my leaue
Oxf. And thus I seale my truth, and bid adieu
King. Sweet Oxford, and my louing Mountague,
And all at once, once more a happy farewell
War. Farewell, sweet Lords, let's meet at Couentry.
Exeunt.
King. Here at the Pallace will I rest a while.
Cousin of Exeter, what thinkes your Lordship?
Me thinkes, the Power that Edward hath in field,
Should not be able to encounter mine
Exet. The doubt is, that he will seduce the rest
King. That's not my feare, my meed hath got me fame:
I haue not stopt mine eares to their demands,
Nor posted off their suites with slow delayes,
My pittie hath beene balme to heale their wounds,
My mildnesse hath allay'd their swelling griefes,
My mercie dry'd their water-flowing teares.
I haue not been desirous of their wealth,
Nor much opprest them with great Subsidies,
Nor forward of reuenge, though they much err'd.
Then why should they loue Edward more then me?
No Exeter, these Graces challenge Grace:
And when the Lyon fawnes vpon the Lambe,
The Lambe will neuer cease to follow him.
Shout within, A Lancaster, A Lancaster.
Exet. Hearke, hearke, my Lord, what Shouts are
these?
Enter Edward and his Souldiers.
Edw. Seize on the shamefac'd Henry, beare him hence,
And once againe proclaime vs King of England.
You are the Fount, that makes small Brookes to flow,
Now stops thy Spring, my Sea shall suck them dry,
And swell so much the higher, by their ebbe.
Hence with him to the Tower, let him not speake.
Exit with King Henry.
And Lords, towards Couentry bend we our course,
Where peremptorie Warwicke now remaines:
The Sunne shines hot, and if we vse delay,
Cold biting Winter marres our hop'd-for Hay
Rich. Away betimes, before his forces ioyne,
And take the great-growne Traytor vnawares:
Braue Warriors, march amaine towards Couentry.
Exeunt.
Enter Warwicke, the Maior of Couentry, two Messengers, and
others vpon the
Walls.
War. Where is the Post that came from valiant Oxford?
How farre hence is thy Lord, mine honest fellow?
Mess .1. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward
War. How farre off is our Brother Mountague?
Where is the Post that came from Mountague?
Mess. 2. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troope.
Enter Someruile.
War. Say Someruile, what sayes my louing Sonne?
And by thy guesse, how nigh is Clarence now?
Someru. At Southam I did leaue him with his forces,
And doe expect him here some two howres hence
War. Then Clarence is at hand, I heare his Drumme
Someru. It is not his, my Lord, here Southam lyes:
The Drum your Honor heares, marcheth from Warwicke
War. Who should that be? belike vnlook'd for friends
Someru. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
March. Flourish. Enter Edward, Richard, and Souldiers.
Edw. Goe, Trumpet, to the Walls, and sound a Parle
Rich. See how the surly Warwicke mans the Wall
War. Oh vnbid spight, is sportfull Edward come?
Where slept our Scouts, or how are they seduc'd,
That we could heare no newes of his repayre
Edw. Now Warwicke, wilt thou ope the Citie Gates,
Speake gentle words, and humbly bend thy Knee,
Call Edward King, and at his hands begge Mercy,
And he shall pardon thee these Outrages?
War. Nay rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
Confesse who set thee vp, and pluckt thee downe,
Call Warwicke Patron, and be penitent,
And thou shalt still remaine the Duke of Yorke
Rich. I thought at least he would haue said the King,
Or did he make the Ieast against his will?
War. Is not a Dukedome, Sir, a goodly gift?
Rich. I, by my faith, for a poore Earle to giue,
Ile doe thee seruice for so good a gift
War. 'Twas I that gaue the Kingdome to thy Brother
Edw. Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwickes gift
War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight:
And Weakeling, Warwicke takes his gift againe,
And Henry is my King, Warwicke his Subiect
Edw. But Warwickes King is Edwards Prisoner:
And gallant Warwicke, doe but answer this,
What is the Body, when the Head is off?
Rich. Alas, that Warwicke had no more fore-cast,
But whiles he thought to steale the single Ten,
The King was slyly finger'd from the Deck:
You left poore Henry at the Bishops Pallace,
And tenne to one you'le meet him in the Tower
Edw. 'Tis euen so, yet you are Warwicke still
Rich. Come Warwicke,
Take the time, kneele downe, kneele downe:
Nay when? strike now, or else the Iron cooles
War. I had rather chop this Hand off at a blow,
And with the other, fling it at thy face,
Then beare so low a sayle, to strike to thee
Edw. Sayle how thou canst,
Haue Winde and Tyde thy friend,
This Hand, fast wound about thy coale-black hayre,
Shall, whiles thy Head is warme, and new cut off,
Write in the dust this Sentence with thy blood,
Wind-changing Warwicke now can change no more.
Enter Oxford, with Drumme and Colours.
War. Oh chearefull Colours, see where Oxford comes
Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster
Rich. The Gates are open, let vs enter too
Edw. So other foes may set vpon our backs.
Stand we in good array: for they no doubt
Will issue out againe, and bid vs battaile;
If not, the Citie being but of small defence,
Wee'le quickly rowze the Traitors in the same
War. Oh welcome Oxford, for we want thy helpe.
Enter Mountague, with Drumme and Colours.
Mount. Mountague, Mountague, for Lancaster
Rich. Thou and thy Brother both shall buy this Treason
Euen with the dearest blood your bodies beare
Edw. The harder matcht, the greater Victorie,
My minde presageth happy gaine, and Conquest.
Enter Somerset, with Drumme and Colours.
Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster
Rich. Two of thy Name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Haue sold their Liues vnto the House of Yorke,
And thou shalt be the third, if this Sword hold.
Enter Clarence, with Drumme and Colours.
War. And loe, where George of Clarence sweepes along,
Of force enough to bid his Brother Battaile:
With whom, in vpright zeale to right, preuailes
More then the nature of a Brothers Loue.
Come Clarence, come: thou wilt, if Warwicke call
Clar. Father of Warwicke, know you what this meanes?
Looke here, I throw my infamie at thee:
I will not ruinate my Fathers House,
Who gaue his blood to lyme the stones together,
And set vp Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwicke,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, vnnaturall,
To bend the fatall Instruments of Warre
Against his Brother, and his lawfull King.
Perhaps thou wilt obiect my holy Oath:
To keepe that Oath, were more impietie,
Then Iephah, when he sacrific'd his Daughter.
I am so sorry for my Trespas made,
That to deserue well at my Brothers hands,
I here proclayme my selfe thy mortall foe:
With resolution, wheresoe're I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou stirre abroad)
To plague thee, for thy foule mis-leading me.
And so, prowd-hearted Warwicke, I defie thee,
And to my Brother turne my blushing Cheekes.
Pardon me Edward, I will make amends:
And Richard, doe not frowne vpon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more vnconstant
Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times more belou'd,
Then if thou neuer hadst deseru'd our hate
Rich. Welcome good Clarence, this is Brother-like
Warw. Oh passing Traytor, periur'd and vniust
Edw. What Warwicke,
Wilt thou leaue the Towne, and fight?
Or shall we beat the Stones about thine Eares?
Warw. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee Battaile, Edward, if thou dar'st
Edw. Yes Warwicke, Edward dares, and leads the way:
Lords to the field: Saint George, and Victorie.
Exeunt.
March. Warwicke and his companie followes.
Alarum, and Excursions. Enter Edward bringing forth Warwicke
wounded.
Edw. So, lye thou there: dye thou, and dye our feare,
For Warwicke was a Bugge that fear'd vs all.
Now Mountague sit fast, I seeke for thee,
That Warwickes Bones may keepe thine companie.
Enter.
Warw. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend, or foe,
And tell me who is Victor, Yorke, or Warwicke?
Why aske I that? my mangled body shewes,
My blood, my want of strength, my sicke heart shewes,
That I must yeeld my body to the Earth,
And by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yeelds the Cedar to the Axes edge,
Whose Armes gaue shelter to the Princely Eagle,
Vnder whose shade the ramping Lyon slept,
Whose top-branch ouer-peer'd Ioues spreading Tree,
And kept low Shrubs from Winters pow'rfull Winde.
These Eyes, that now are dim'd with Deaths black Veyle,
Haue beene as piercing as the Mid-day Sunne,
To search the secret Treasons of the World:
The Wrinckles in my Browes, now fill'd with blood,
Were lik'ned oft to Kingly Sepulchers:
For who liu'd King, but I could digge his Graue?
And who durst smile, when Warwicke bent his Brow?
Loe, now my Glory smear'd in dust and blood.
My Parkes, my Walkes, my Mannors that I had,
Euen now forsake me; and of all my Lands,
Is nothing left me, but my bodies length.
Why, what is Pompe, Rule, Reigne, but Earth and Dust?
And liue we how we can, yet dye we must.
Enter Oxford and Somerset.
Som. Ah Warwicke, Warwicke, wert thou as we are,
We might recouer all our Losse againe:
The Queene from France hath brought a puissant power.
Euen now we heard the newes: ah, could'st thou flye
Warw. Why then I would not flye. Ah Mountague,
If thou be there, sweet Brother, take my Hand,
And with thy Lippes keepe in my Soule a while.
Thou lou'st me not: for, Brother, if thou did'st,
Thy teares would wash this cold congealed blood,
That glewes my Lippes, and will not let me speake.
Come quickly Mountague, or I am dead
Som. Ah Warwicke, Mountague hath breath'd his last,
And to the latest gaspe, cry'd out for Warwicke:
And said, Commend me to my valiant Brother.
And more he would haue said, and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a Cannon in a Vault,
That mought not be distinguisht: but at last,
I well might heare, deliuered with a groane,
Oh farewell Warwicke