Speeches (Lines) for Warwick in "History of Henry VI, Part III"

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Warwick. I wonder how the king escaped our hands.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.

Warwick. And so do I. Victorious Prince of York,
Before I see thee seated in that throne
Which now the house of Lancaster usurps,
I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close.
This is the palace of the fearful king,
And this the regal seat: possess it, York;
For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs'

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords;
And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.

Warwick. And when the king comes, offer no violence,
Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.

Warwick. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king,
And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice
Hath made us by-words to our enemies.

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute;
I mean to take possession of my right.

Warwick. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best,
The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells.
I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares:
Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD,]
NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest]

Duke of Exeter. Thy father was a traitor to the crown.

Warwick. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown
In following this usurping Henry.

Lord Clifford. Whom should he follow but his natural king?

Warwick. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York.

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. It must and shall be so: content thyself.

Warwick. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king.

Earl of Westmoreland. He is both king and Duke of Lancaster;
And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.

Warwick. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget
That we are those which chased you from the field
And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
March'd through the city to the palace gates.

Lord Clifford. Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words,
I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger
As shall revenge his death before I stir.

Warwick. Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats!

Henry VI. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop
And seized upon their towns and provinces.

Warwick. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.

Henry VI. Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.

Warwick. Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords;
And be you silent and attentive too,
For he that interrupts him shall not live.

Henry VI. Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
No: first shall war unpeople this my realm;
Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
My title's good, and better far than his.

Warwick. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. He rose against him, being his sovereign,
And made him to resign his crown perforce.

Warwick. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd,
Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown?

Earl of Northumberland. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st,
Think not that Henry shall be so deposed.

Warwick. Deposed he shall be, in despite of all.

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.
What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?

Warwick. Do right unto this princely Duke of York,
Or I will fill the house with armed men,
And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
Write up his title with usurping blood.
[He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show]
themselves]

Lord Clifford. What wrong is this unto the prince your son!

Warwick. What good is this to England and himself!

Lord Clifford. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
Or live in peace abandon'd and despised!

Warwick. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.

Henry VI. Ah, Exeter!

Warwick. Why should you sigh, my lord?

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. This oath I willingly take and will perform.

Warwick. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him.

Richard Plantagenet - Duke of York. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle.

Warwick. And I'll keep London with my soldiers.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun:
For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say;
Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.

Warwick. How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad?

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet,
Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption,
Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.

Warwick. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
I come to tell you things sith then befall'n.
After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
Where your brave father breathed 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 toward 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 heated 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 an idle thresher 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 fight,
And we in them no hope to win the day;
So that we fled; the king unto the queen;
Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself,
In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you:
For in the marches here we heard you were,
Making another head to fight again.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
And when came George from Burgundy to England?

Warwick. 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,
With aid of soldiers to this needful war.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:
Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.

Warwick. 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 sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war
As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:
'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
But in this troublous time what's to be done?
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.

Warwick. Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out;
And therefore comes my brother Montague.
Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
And of their feather many more proud birds,
Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax.
He swore consent to your succession,
His oath enrolled in the parliament;
And now to London all the crew are gone,
To frustrate both his oath and what beside
May make against the house of Lancaster.
Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong:
Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
But never once again turn back and fly.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!--
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!

Warwick. 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.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us!

Warwick. How now! what news?

Messenger. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
The queen is coming with a puissant host;
And craves your company for speedy counsel.

Warwick. Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.

Warwick. What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?

Queen Margaret. Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak?
When you and I met at Saint Alban's last,
Your legs did better service than your hands.

Warwick. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.

Lord Clifford. You said so much before, and yet you fled.

Warwick. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day,
That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.

Warwick. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
For York in justice puts his armour on.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay:
These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.

Warwick. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,
I lay me down a little while to breathe;
For strokes received, and many blows repaid,
Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death!
For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.

Warwick. How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good?

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
And in the very pangs of death he cried,
Like to a dismal clangour heard from far,
'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!'
So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.

Warwick. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood:
I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.
Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage;
And look upon, as if the tragedy
Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
Here on my knee I vow to God above,
I'll never pause again, never stand still,
Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine
Or fortune given me measure of revenge.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick,
Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:
I, that did never weep, now melt with woe
That winter should cut off our spring-time so.

Warwick. Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause,
And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen,
That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
Command an argosy to stem the waves.
But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?

Warwick. No, 'tis impossible he should escape,
For, though before his face I speak the words
Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave:
And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
But set his murdering knife unto the root
From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,
I mean our princely father, Duke of York.

Warwick. From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
Your father's head, which Clifford placed there;
Instead whereof let this supply the room:
Measure for measure must be answered.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
That nothing sung but death to us and ours:
Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.

Warwick. I think his understanding is bereft.
Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?
Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
And he nor sees nor hears us what we say.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.

Warwick. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?

Warwick. They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard
When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul,
If this right hand would buy two hour's life,
That I in all despite might rail at him,
This hand should chop it off, and with the
issuing blood
Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

Warwick. Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head,
And rear it in the place your father's stands.
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be crowned England's royal king:
From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen:
So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again;
For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears.
First will I see the coronation;
And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea,
To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester;
For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.

Warwick. Tut, that's a foolish observation:
Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London,
To see these honours in possession.

Queen Margaret. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;
For this is he that moves both wind and tide.

Warwick. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
I come, in kindness and unfeigned love,
First, to do greetings to thy royal person;
And then to crave a league of amity;
And lastly, to confirm that amity
With a nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister,
To England's king in lawful marriage.

Queen Margaret. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.

Warwick. [To BONA] And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf,
I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart;
Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears,
Hath placed thy beauty's image and thy virtue.

Queen Margaret. King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak,
Before you answer Warwick. His demand
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
But from deceit bred by necessity;
For how can tyrants safely govern home,
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,
That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,
Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son.
Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;
For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,
Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

Warwick. Injurious Margaret!

Prince Edward. And why not queen?

Warwick. Because thy father Henry did usurp;
And thou no more are prince than she is queen.

Earl Oxford. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
Who by his prowess conquered all France:
From these our Henry lineally descends.

Warwick. Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse,
You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost
All that which Henry Fifth had gotten?
Methinks these peers of France should smile at that.
But for the rest, you tell a pedigree
Of threescore and two years; a silly time
To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.

Earl Oxford. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years,
And not bewray thy treason with a blush?

Warwick. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
For shame! leave Henry, and call Edward king.

Earl Oxford. Call him my king by whose injurious doom
My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere,
Was done to death? and more than so, my father,
Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
When nature brought him to the door of death?
No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.

Warwick. And I the house of York.

King Lewis XI. Now Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
Is Edward your true king? for I were loath
To link with him that were not lawful chosen.

Warwick. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.

King Lewis XI. But is he gracious in the people's eye?

Warwick. The more that Henry was unfortunate.

King Lewis XI. Then further, all dissembling set aside,
Tell me for truth the measure of his love
Unto our sister Bona.

Warwick. Such it seems
As may beseem a monarch like himself.
Myself have often heard him say and swear
That this his love was an eternal plant,
Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun,
Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

King Lewis XI. And still is friend to him and Margaret:
But if your title to the crown be weak,
As may appear by Edward's good success,
Then 'tis but reason that I be released
From giving aid which late I promised.
Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand
That your estate requires and mine can yield.

Warwick. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
You have a father able to maintain you;
And better 'twere you troubled him than France.

Queen Margaret. Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys.

Warwick. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.

Queen Margaret. I told your majesty as much before:
This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.

Warwick. King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven,
And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,
That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's,
No more my king, for he dishonours me,
But most himself, if he could see his shame.
Did I forget that by the house of York
My father came untimely to his death?
Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece?
Did I impale him with the regal crown?
Did I put Henry from his native right?
And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame?
Shame on himself! for my desert is honour:
And to repair my honour lost for him,
I here renounce him and return to Henry.
My noble queen, let former grudges pass,
And henceforth I am thy true servitor:
I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former state.

Queen Margaret. Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;
And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
And joy that thou becomest King Henry's friend.

Warwick. So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
That, if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
I'll undertake to land them on our coast
And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
'Tis not his new-made bride shall succor him:
And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him,
For matching more for wanton lust than honour,
Or than for strength and safety of our country.

Bona. My quarrel and this English queen's are one.

Warwick. And mine, fair lady Bona, joins with yours.

Queen Margaret. Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aside,
And I am ready to put armour on.

Warwick. Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.
There's thy reward: be gone.

King Lewis XI. But, Warwick,
Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men,
Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle;
And, as occasion serves, this noble queen
And prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt,
What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?

Warwick. This shall assure my constant loyalty,
That if our queen and this young prince agree,
I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy
To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.

King Lewis XI. Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,
And thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral,
Shalt waft them over with our royal fleet.
I long till Edward fall by war's mischance,
For mocking marriage with a dame of France.

Warwick. I came from Edward as ambassador,
But I return his sworn and mortal foe:
Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a stale but me?
Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
I was the chief that raised him to the crown,
And I'll be chief to bring him down again:
Not that I pity Henry's misery,
But seek revenge on Edward's mockery.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
Now therefore let us hence; and lose no hour,
Till we meet Warwick with his foreign power.

Warwick. Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
The common people by numbers swarm to us.
[Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET]
But see where Somerset and Clarence come!
Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends?

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. Fear not that, my lord.

Warwick. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
And welcome, Somerset: I hold it cowardice
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother,
Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings:
But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
And now what rests but, in night's coverture,
Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
And but attended by a simple guard,
We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
Our scouts have found the adventure very easy:
That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,
At unawares may beat down Edward's guard
And seize himself; I say not, slaughter him,
For I intend but only to surprise him.
You that will follow me to this attempt,
Applaud the name of Henry with your leader.
[They all cry, 'Henry!']
Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort:
For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George!

Second Watchman. Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent,
But to defend his person from night-foes?
[Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET, and]
French soldiers, silent all]

Warwick. This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
Courage, my masters! honour now or never!
But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.

Duke/Earl of Somerset. What are they that fly there?

Warwick. Richard and Hastings: let them go; here is The duke.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. The duke! Why, Warwick, when we parted,
Thou call'dst me king.

Warwick. Ay, but the case is alter'd:
When you disgraced me in my embassade,
Then I degraded you from being king,
And come now to create you Duke of York.
Alas! how should you govern any kingdom,
That know not how to use ambassadors,
Nor how to be contented with one wife,
Nor how to use your brothers brotherly,
Nor how to study for the people's welfare,
Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Yea, brother of Clarence, are thou here too?
Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down.
Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
Edward will always bear himself as king:
Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.

Warwick. Then, for his mind, be Edward England's king:
[Takes off his crown]
But Henry now shall wear the English crown,
And be true king indeed, thou but the shadow.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
I'll follow you, and tell what answer
Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
Now, for a while farewell, good Duke of York.

Earl Oxford. What now remains, my lords, for us to do
But march to London with our soldiers?

Warwick. Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do;
To free King Henry from imprisonment
And see him seated in the regal throne.

Henry VI. For what, lieutenant? for well using me?
Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness,
For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure;
Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds
Conceive when after many moody thoughts
At last by notes of household harmony
They quite forget their loss of liberty.
But, Warwick, after God, thou set'st me free,
And chiefly therefore I thank God and thee;
He was the author, thou the instrument.
Therefore, that I may conquer fortune's spite
By living low, where fortune cannot hurt me,
And that the people of this blessed land
May not be punish'd with my thwarting stars,
Warwick, although my head still wear the crown,
I here resign my government to thee,
For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.

Warwick. Your grace hath still been famed for virtuous;
And now may seem as wise as virtuous,
By spying and avoiding fortune's malice,
For few men rightly temper with the stars:
Yet in this one thing let me blame your grace,
For choosing me when Clarence is in place.

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway,
To whom the heavens in thy nativity
Adjudged an olive branch and laurel crown,
As likely to be blest in peace and war;
And therefore I yield thee my free consent.

Warwick. And I choose Clarence only for protector.

Henry VI. Warwick and Clarence give me both your hands:
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
That no dissension hinder government:
I make you both protectors of this land,
While I myself will lead a private life
And in devotion spend my latter days,
To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise.

Warwick. What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will?

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. That he consents, if Warwick yield consent;
For on thy fortune I repose myself.

Warwick. Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content:
We'll yoke together, like a double shadow
To Henry's body, and supply his place;
I mean, in bearing weight of government,
While he enjoys the honour and his ease.
And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful
Forthwith that Edward be pronounced a traitor,
And all his lands and goods be confiscate.

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. What else? and that succession be determined.

Warwick. Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.

Henry VI. Come hither, England's hope.
[Lays his hand on his head]
If secret powers
Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.
His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
His head by nature framed to wear a crown,
His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself
Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
Make much of him, my lords, for this is he
Must help you more than you are hurt by me.

Warwick. What news, my friend?

Post. That Edward is escaped from your brother,
And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.

Warwick. Unsavoury news! but how made he escape?

Post. He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloucester
And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
In secret ambush on the forest side
And from the bishop's huntsmen rescued him;
For hunting was his daily exercise.

Warwick. My brother was too careless of his charge.
But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide
A salve for any sore that may betide.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Thanks, brave Montgomery; and thanks unto you all:
If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
Now, for this night, let's harbour here in York;
And when the morning sun shall raise his car
Above the border of this horizon,
We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
Ah, froward Clarence! how evil it beseems thee
To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.
Come on, brave soldiers: doubt not of the day,
And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.

Warwick. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
And with his troops doth march amain to London;
And many giddy people flock to him.

George Plantagenet - Duke of Clarence. A little fire is quickly trodden out;
Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

Warwick. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence,
Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent,
The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:
Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
Northampton and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st:
And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved,
In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
Like to his island girt in with the ocean,
Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
Shall rest in London till we come to him.
Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.
Farewell, my sovereign.

Henry VI. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague,
And all at once, once more a happy farewell.

Warwick. Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Away betimes, before his forces join,
And take the great-grown traitor unawares:
Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

Warwick. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?
How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?

First Messenger. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

Warwick. How far off is our brother Montague?
Where is the post that came from Montague?

Second Messenger. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Warwick. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son?
And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now?

Duke/Earl of Somerset. At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
And do expect him here some two hours hence.

Warwick. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.

Duke/Earl of Somerset. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies:
The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.

Warwick. Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall!

Warwick. O unbid spite! is sportful Edward come?
Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced,
That we could hear no news of his repair?

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. 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.

Warwick. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee own,
Call Warwick patron and be penitent?
And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. I thought, at least, he would have said the king;
Or did he make the jest against his will?

Warwick. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give:
I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

Warwick. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

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.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down:
Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.

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.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. 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.'

Warwick. O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes!

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. 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.

Warwick. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. 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.

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!
Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick call.

Richard - Duke of Gloucester - Richard III after enthronement. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike.

Warwick. O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

Warwick. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence!
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest.

Edward - Earl of March, later King Edward IV. 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.

Warwick. 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 filled with blood,
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;
For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst mine 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.

Duke/Earl of Somerset. 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!

Warwick. Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand.
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile!
Thou lovest me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Duke/Earl of Somerset. Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breathed his last;
And to the latest gasp cried 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 clamour in a vault,
That mought not be distinguished; but at last
I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
'O, farewell, Warwick!'

Warwick. Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
For Warwick bids you all farewell to meet in heaven.