Drums. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and

Forces, marching.
K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
Glo. See, how the surly Warwick inans the wall.
War. 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?

K. Edw. 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.

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
Confess who set thee up and plack'd thee down?-
Call Warwick-patron, and be penitent,
And thou shalt still remain the duke of York.

Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said—the king !
Or did he make the jest against his will?

War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give;
I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

War. 'Twas I, that gave the kingdom to thy brother.
K. Edw. Why, then,'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight:
And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,-
What is the body, when the head is off?

Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
But, whiles be thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slily linger'd from the deck!
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.

K. Edw. "Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel down,

kneel down:
Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.

War. I had rather chop this band off at a blow,
And with the other fling it at thy face,
Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.

K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide

tby friend;
This hand, fast wound about thy coal black hair,
Shall, whiles the head is warın, and new cut off,
Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,-
Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.

Enter OXFORD, with Drum and Colours.
War. O cheerful colours! see, where Oxford comes !
Orf: Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[Oxford and his Forces enter the City. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too.

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 hear.

K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater victory; 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 ap Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, onnatural,
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
"Iban Jephthal'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 turu 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 be-
Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate. [lov'd,

Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.
War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust!

K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town, and
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? [fight?

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. [way

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the
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 inay 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 siept; Whose top-branch over-peer'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 fi!ld with blood, Were liken’d oft to kingly sepulchres; For who liv'd king, but I could dig bis grave? And who darst 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 bow we can, yet die we must.

Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET. Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! 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, couldst thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ay, Montague, If thou be there, sweet brother, take iny band, And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile! Thou lov'st ine not; for, brother, it 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; Aud to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick, And said-Commend me to iny 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,
I well might hear deliver'd with a groap,-
0, farewell, Warwick!
War.

Sweet rest to his soul!
Fly, lords, and save yourselves; for Warwick bids
You all farewell, to meet again in heaven. [Dies.
Oxf. 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, GLOSTER, und the rest.
K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory. [course,
But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threatning cloud,
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed :
I mean, my lord's,-those powers, that the queen
Hath raisd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast,
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud,
And blow it to the source from whence it came:
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up;
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Glo. 'The queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her;
If she have time to breathe, be well assurd,
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving friends,
That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury;
We, having now the best at Barnet field,
Will thither straight, For willingness rids way;
And, as we marcli, our strength will be augmented
In every county as we go along:-
Strike up the drum; cry-Courage! and away:

[Exeunt