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War. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears: And now, to add more measure to your woos, I come to tell you things since then befall’n. After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
brave father breath'd his latest gasp, Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, Were brought me of your loss, and his depart. I then in London, keeper of the king, Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, And very well appointed, as I thought, March'd towards Saint Alban’s to intercept the queen, Bearing the king in my behalf along : For by my scouts I was advertised, That she was coming with a full intent To dash our late decree in parliament, * Touching king Henry's oath, and your succession. Short tale to make,—we at Saint Alban's met, Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought : But, whether 'twas the coldness of the king, Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, That robb’d my soldiers of their hated spleen; Or whether 'twas report of her success ; Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
Who thunders to his captives-blood and death, I cannot judge: but, to conclude with truth, Their weapons like to lightning came and went; Our soldiers'-like the night-owl's lazy flight, • Or like a lazy thrasher with a flail,Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, With promise of high pay, and great rewards:
, But all in vain; they had no heart to tight,
And we, in them, no hope to win the day,
wick? And when came George from Burgundy to England? • War. Some six miles off the duke is with the
soldiers : And for your brother,—he was lately sent From your kind aunt, duchess of Burgundy, r With aid of soldiers to this needful war. Rich. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick
his scandal of retire. War. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou
hear : For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, And wring the awful scepter from his fist; Were he as famous and as bold in war, As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer.
Rich. I know it well, lord Warwick : blame me
'Tis love, I bear thy glories, makes me speak.
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Edw. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; . And when thou fall'st, (as God forbid the hour!) Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forefend !
War. No longer earl of March, but duke of York; “The next degree is, England's royal throne : For king of England shalt thou be proclaim'd In every borough as we pass along; And he that throws not up his cap for joy, • Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. King Edward, -valiant Richard,-Montague, Stay we no longer dreaming of renown, , ' But sound the trumpets, and about our task. * Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as
steel, * (As thou hast shown it Ainty by thy deeds) I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. * Edw. Then strike up, drums ;-God, and Saint
George, for us !
Enter a Messenger. War. How now? what news ? Mess. The duke of Norfolk sends you word by
me, The queen is coming with a puissant host; And craves your company for speedy counsel. • War. Why then it sorts," brave warriors : Let's away.
Exeunt. SCENE II.
6 Why then things are as they should be.
Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, the Prince
of Wales, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND,
Clif. My gracious liege, this too much lenity