'K. Edw. 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 quickly rouse the traitors in the same. * War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.

Enter Montague, with drum and colours. Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city. 'Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this

treason

Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. * K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater vic

tory;

My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest.

Enter Somerset, with drum and colours. Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city. Glo. 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.

Enter Clarence, with drum and colours.

War. 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:

* Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick

calls.

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means? [Taking the red rose out of his cap.

'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, War

wick,

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 Jephthah'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, wheresoe'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. K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times

more beloy'd,

Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate. 'Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike.

War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust! K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town, and fight?

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

'War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence: I will away towards Barnet presently,

And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way:

Lords, to the field; saint George, and victory. [March. Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A FIELD OF BATTLE NEAR BARNET.

Alarums, and Excursions. Enter King Edward, bringing in Warwick wounded.

* K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear;

* For Warwick was a bug, that fear'd us all.*Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee, * That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

[Exit.

War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend, or

foe,

And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick?

Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
*My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart
shows,

That I must yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,

Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; Whose top branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree, * And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. *These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,

* Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
*To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;

For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile, when Warwick bent his brow?
Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length!
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and
dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Enter Oxford and Somerset.

*Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we

are,

* We might recover all our loss again!

'The queen from France hath brought a puissant

power;

Even now we heard the news: Ah, could'st thou

fly!

'War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Mon

tague,

*If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, * And with thy lips keep in my soul a-while!

Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst,

Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood, * That glews my lips, and will not let me speak. * Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

'Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his last;

' And to the latest gasp, cry'd out for Warwick, 'And said-Commend me to my valiant brother. And more he would have said; and more he spoke, 'Which sounded like a cannon in a vault, 'That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last, 6 I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,— 'O, farewel, Warwick!

War.

Sweet rest his soul!-'

Fly, lords, and save yourselves; for Warwick bids You all farewel, to meet again in heaven. [Dies: Orf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!

[Exeunt, bearing off Warwick's body.

SCENE III

ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.

Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph; with Clarence, Glo'ster, and the rest.

K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward

course,

'And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
'But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
'I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
'That will encounter with our glorious sun,