Act V, Scene i
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[Enter, upon the walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others.]
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?— | |
| | How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? | |
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| | 1 MESSENGER.: | |
| | By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | How far off is our brother Montague? | |
| | Where is the post that came from Montague? | |
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| | 2 MESSENGER.: | |
| | By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. | |
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[Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE.]
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? | |
| | And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now? | |
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| | SOMERVILLE.: | |
| | At Southam I did leave him with his forces | |
| | And do expect him here some two hours hence. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum. | |
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| | SOMERVILLE.: | |
| | It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies. | |
| | The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends. | |
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| | SOMERVILLE.: | |
| | They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. | |
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[March. Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces.]
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Go, trumpet, to the walls and sound a parle. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | See how the surly Warwick mans the wall. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | O, unbid spite! Is sportful Edward come? | |
| | Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc'd, | |
| | That we could hear no news of his repair? | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates? | |
| | Speak gentle words and humbly bend thy knee, | |
| | Call Edward king and at his hands beg mercy? | |
| | And he shall pardon thee these outrages. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence, | |
| | Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down? | |
| | Call Warwick patron and be penitent, | |
| | And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | I thought, at least, he would have said the king; | |
| | Or did he make the jest against his will? | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift? | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give; | |
| | I'll do thee service for so good a gift. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | 'T was I that gave the kingdom to thy brother. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Why, then, 't is mine, if but by Warwick's gift. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight, | |
| | And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; | |
| | And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner; | |
| | And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this: | |
| | What is the body when the head is off? | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Alas! that Warwick had no more forecast, | |
| | But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten, | |
| | The king was slily finger'd from the deck! | |
| | You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace, | |
| | And ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | 'T is even so; yet you are Warwick still. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down. | |
| | Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, | |
| | And with the other fling it at thy face, | |
| | Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend, | |
| | This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, | |
| | Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off, | |
| | Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood, | |
| | 'Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.' | |
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[Enter OXFORD, with Forces.]
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes. | |
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| | OXFORD.: | |
| | Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster! | |
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[He and his forces enter the city.]
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | The gates are open; let us enter too. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | So other foes may set upon our backs. | |
| | Stand we in good array, for they no doubt | |
| | Will issue out again and bid us battle; | |
| | If not, the city being but of small defence, | |
| | We'll quietly rouse the traitors in the same. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | O, welcome, Oxford, for we want thy help. | |
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[Enter MONTAGUE, with Forces.]
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| | MONTAGUE.: | |
| | Montague, Montague, for Lancaster! | |
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[He and his forces enter the city.]
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason, | |
| | Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | The harder match'd, the greater victory; | |
| | My mind presageth happy gain and conquest. | |
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| | SOMERSET.: | |
| | Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster! | |
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[He and his forces enter the city.]
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset, | |
| | Have sold their lives unto the House of York; | |
| | And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold. | |
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[Enter CLARENCE, with Forces.]
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along, | |
| | Of force enough to bid his brother battle; | |
| | With whom an upright zeal to right prevails, | |
| | More than the nature of a brother's love!— | |
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[Gloster and Clarence whisper.]
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| | Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt if Warwick call. | |
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| | CLARENCE.: | |
| | Father of Warwick, know you what this means? | |
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[Taking the red rose out of his hat.]
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| | Look here, I throw my infamy at thee; | |
| | I will not ruinate my father's house, | |
| | Who gave his blood to lime the stones together, | |
| | And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick, | |
| | That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural, | |
| | To bend the fatal instruments of war | |
| | Against his brother and his lawful king? | |
| | Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath; | |
| | To keep that oath were more impiety | |
| | Than Jephtha's when he sacrific'd his daughter. | |
| | I am so sorry for my trespass made | |
| | That, to deserve well at my brother's hands, | |
| | I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe, | |
| | With resolution, whereso'er I meet thee— | |
| | As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad— | |
| | To plague thee for thy foul misleading me. | |
| | And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee, | |
| | And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.— | |
| | Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;— | |
| | And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults, | |
| | For I will henceforth be no more unconstant. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Now, welcome more, and ten times more belov'd, | |
| | Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like. | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | O passing traitor, perjur'd and unjust! | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight, | |
| | Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? | |
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| | WARWICK.: | |
| | Alas! I am not coop'd here for defence; | |
| | I will away towards Barnet presently, | |
| | And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st. | |
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| | KING EDWARD.: | |
| | Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.— | |
| | Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory! | |
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