North. Well hast thou spoken, Cousin be it so

Henry. Ah, know you not the Citie fauours them, And they haue troupes of Souldiers at their beck? Westm. But when the Duke is slaine, they'le quickly flye

Henry. Farre be the thought of this from Henries heart, To make a Shambles of the Parliament House. Cousin of Exeter, frownes, words, and threats, Shall be the Warre that Henry meanes to vse. Thou factious Duke of Yorke descend my Throne, And kneele for grace and mercie at my feet, I am thy Soueraigne

Yorke. I am thine

Exet. For shame come downe, he made thee Duke of Yorke

Yorke. It was my Inheritance, as the Earledome was

Exet. Thy Father was a Traytor to the Crowne

Warw. Exeter thou art a Traytor to the Crowne, In following this vsurping Henry

Clifford. Whom should hee follow, but his naturall King? Warw. True Clifford, that's Richard Duke of Yorke

Henry. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my Throne? Yorke. It must and shall be so, content thy selfe

Warw. Be Duke of Lancaster, let him be King

Westm. He is both King, and Duke of Lancaster, And that the Lord of Westmerland shall maintaine

Warw. And Warwick shall disproue it. You forget, That we are those which chas'd you from the field, And slew your Fathers, and with Colours spread Marcht through the Citie to the Pallace Gates

Northumb. Yes Warwicke, I remember it to my griefe, And by his Soule, thou and thy House shall rue it

Westm. Plantagenet, of thee and these thy Sonnes, Thy Kinsmen, and thy Friends, Ile haue more liues Then drops of bloud were in my Fathers Veines

Cliff. Vrge it no more, lest that in stead of words, I send thee, Warwicke, such a Messenger, As shall reuenge his death, before I stirre

Warw. Poore Clifford, how I scorne his worthlesse Threats

Plant. Will you we shew our Title to the Crowne? If not, our Swords shall pleade it in the field

Henry. What Title hast thou Traytor to the Crowne? My Father was as thou art, Duke of Yorke, Thy Grandfather Roger Mortimer, Earle of March. I am the Sonne of Henry the Fift, Who made the Dolphin and the French to stoupe, And seiz'd vpon their Townes and Prouinces

Warw. Talke not of France, sith thou hast lost it all

Henry. The Lord Protector lost it, and not I: When I was crown'd, I was but nine moneths old

Rich. You are old enough now, And yet me thinkes you loose: Father teare the Crowne from the Vsurpers Head

Edward. Sweet Father doe so, set it on your Head

Mount. Good Brother, As thou lou'st and honorest Armes, Let's fight it out, and not stand cauilling thus

Richard. Sound Drummes and Trumpets, and the King will flye

Plant. Sonnes peace

Henry. Peace thou, and giue King Henry leaue to speake

Warw. Plantagenet shal speake first: Heare him Lords, And be you silent and attentiue too, For he that interrupts him, shall not liue

Hen. Think'st thou, that I will leaue my Kingly Throne, Wherein my Grandsire and my Father sat? No: first shall Warre vnpeople this my Realme; I, and their Colours often borne in France, And now in England, to our hearts great sorrow, Shall be my Winding-sheet. Why faint you Lords? My Title's good, and better farre then his

Warw. Proue it Henry, and thou shalt be King

Hen. Henry the Fourth by Conquest got the Crowne

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

All Pages of This Book
The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight
The First Part of Henry the Fourth
The first Part of Henry the Sixt
The Life of Henry the Fift
The Second Part of Henry the Fourth
The second Part of Henry the Sixt
The third Part of Henry the Sixt