Gary Taylor, John Jowett, Terri Bourus, and Gabriel Egan (eds), The New Oxford Shakespeare: Critical Reference Edition, Vol. 2
Flourish. Enter the King, Warwicke, Mountague, Clarence, Oxford, and Somerset.1
War. What counsaile, Lords? Edward from Belgia,
2With hastie Germanes, and blunt Hollanders,
3Hath pass'd in safetie through the Narrow Seas,
4And with his troupes doth march amaine to London,
5And many giddie people flock to him.6
King. Let's leuie men, and beat him backe againe.7
Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
8Which being suffer'd, Riuers cannot quench.9
War. In Warwickshire I haue true-hearted friends,
10Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in Warre,
11Those will I muster vp: and thou Sonne Clarence
Critical Apparatus12Shalt [stirre] in Suffolke, Norfolke, and in Kent,
13The Knights and Gentlemen, to come with thee.
14Thou Brother Mountague, in Buckingham,
15Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
16Men well enclin'd to heare what thou command'st.
17And thou, braue Oxford, wondrous well belou'd,
18In Oxfordshire shalt muster vp thy friends.
19My Soueraigne, with the louing Citizens,
20Like to his Iland, gyrt in with the Ocean,
21Or modest Dyan, circled with her Nymphs,
22Shall rest in London, till we come to him:
23Faire Lords take leaue, and stand not to reply.
24Farewell my Soueraigne.25
King. Farewell my Hector, and my Troyes true hope.26
Clar. In signe of truth, I kisse your Highnesse Hand.27
King. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate.28
Mount. Comfort, my Lord, and so I take my leaue.29
Oxf. And thus I seale my truth, and bid adieu.30
King. Sweet Oxford, and my louing Mountague,
31And all at once, once more a happy farewell.32
War. Farewell, sweet Lords, let's meet at Couentry.Critical ApparatusExeunt.33
King. Here at the Pallace will I rest a while.
34Cousin of Exeter, what thinkes your Lordship?
35Me thinkes, the Power that Edward hath in field,
36Should not be able to encounter mine.37
Exet. The doubt is, that he will seduce the rest.pg 263038
King. That's not my feare, my meed hath got me fame:
39I haue not stopt mine eares to their demands,
40Nor posted off their suites with slow delayes,
41My pittie hath beene balme to heale their wounds,
42My mildnesse hath allay'd their swelling griefes,
43My mercie dry'd their water-flowing teares.
44I haue not been desirous of their wealth,
45Nor much opprest them with great Subsidies,
46Nor forward of reuenge, though they much err'd.
47Then why should they loue Edward more then me?
48No Exeter, these Graces challenge Grace:
q2v Link 49And when the Lyon fawnes vpon the Lambe,
50The Lambe will neuer cease to follow him.Critical ApparatusShout within, A Lancaster, A [Yorke].Critical Apparatus51
Exet. Hearke, hearke, my Lord, what Shouts are these?Enter Edward and his Souldiers.52
Edw. Seize on the shamefac'd Henry, beare him hence,
53And once againe proclaime vs King of England.
54You are the Fount, that makes small Brookes to flow,
55Now stops thy Spring, my Sea shall suck them dry,
56And swell so much the higher, by their ebbe.
57Hence with him to the Tower, let him not speake.Critical ApparatusExit with King Henry.
58And Lords, towards Couentry bend we our course,
Critical Apparatus59Where peremptorie Warwicke now remaines:
60The Sunne shines hot, and if we vse delay,
61Cold biting Winter marres our hop'd-for Hay.62
Rich. Away betimes, before his forces ioyne,
63And take the great-growne Traytor vnawares:
64Braue Warriors, march amaine towards Couentry.Exeunt.