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Warwick complete text
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| Warwick. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, | 1.1.45
| The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, | 1.1.46
| Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. | 1.1.47
| I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: | 1.1.48
| Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. | 1.1.49
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest
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| Warwick. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; | 2.1.104
| And now, to add more measure to your woes, | 2.1.105
| I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. | 2.1.106
| After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, | 2.1.107
| Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, | 2.1.108
| Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, | 2.1.109
| Were brought me of your loss and his depart. | 2.1.110
| I, then in London keeper of the king, | 2.1.111
| Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, | 2.1.112
| And very well appointed, as I thought, | 2.1.113
| March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, | 2.1.114
| Bearing the king in my behalf along; | 2.1.115
| For by my scouts I was advertised | 2.1.116
| That she was coming with a full intent | 2.1.117
| To dash our late decree in parliament | 2.1.118
| Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. | 2.1.119
| Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met | 2.1.120
| Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: | 2.1.121
| But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, | 2.1.122
| Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, | 2.1.123
| That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; | 2.1.124
| Or whether 'twas report of her success; | 2.1.125
| Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, | 2.1.126
| Who thunders to his captives blood and death, | 2.1.127
| I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, | 2.1.128
| Their weapons like to lightning came and went; | 2.1.129
| Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, | 2.1.130
| Or like an idle thresher with a flail, | 2.1.131
| Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. | 2.1.132
| I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, | 2.1.133
| With promise of high pay and great rewards: | 2.1.134
| But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, | 2.1.135
| And we in them no hope to win the day; | 2.1.136
| So that we fled; the king unto the queen; | 2.1.137
| Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, | 2.1.138
| In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: | 2.1.139
| For in the marches here we heard you were, | 2.1.140
| Making another head to fight again. | 2.1.141
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| Warwick. Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; | 2.1.166
| And therefore comes my brother Montague. | 2.1.167
| Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, | 2.1.168
| With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, | 2.1.169
| And of their feather many more proud birds, | 2.1.170
| Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. | 2.1.171
| He swore consent to your succession, | 2.1.172
| His oath enrolled in the parliament; | 2.1.173
| And now to London all the crew are gone, | 2.1.174
| To frustrate both his oath and what beside | 2.1.175
| May make against the house of Lancaster. | 2.1.176
| Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: | 2.1.177
| Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, | 2.1.178
| With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, | 2.1.179
| Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, | 2.1.180
| Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, | 2.1.181
| Why, Via! to London will we march amain, | 2.1.182
| And once again bestride our foaming steeds, | 2.1.183
| And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' | 2.1.184
| But never once again turn back and fly. | 2.1.185
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| Warwick. From worthy Edward, King of Albion, | 3.3.50
| My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend, | 3.3.51
| I come, in kindness and unfeigned love, | 3.3.52
| First, to do greetings to thy royal person; | 3.3.53
| And then to crave a league of amity; | 3.3.54
| And lastly, to confirm that amity | 3.3.55
| With a nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant | 3.3.56
| That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister, | 3.3.57
| To England's king in lawful marriage. | 3.3.58
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| Warwick. King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven, | 3.3.184
| And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss, | 3.3.185
| That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's, | 3.3.186
| No more my king, for he dishonours me, | 3.3.187
| But most himself, if he could see his shame. | 3.3.188
| Did I forget that by the house of York | 3.3.189
| My father came untimely to his death? | 3.3.190
| Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece? | 3.3.191
| Did I impale him with the regal crown? | 3.3.192
| Did I put Henry from his native right? | 3.3.193
| And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame? | 3.3.194
| Shame on himself! for my desert is honour: | 3.3.195
| And to repair my honour lost for him, | 3.3.196
| I here renounce him and return to Henry. | 3.3.197
| My noble queen, let former grudges pass, | 3.3.198
| And henceforth I am thy true servitor: | 3.3.199
| I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona, | 3.3.200
| And replant Henry in his former state. | 3.3.201
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| Warwick. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick; | 4.2.6
| And welcome, Somerset: I hold it cowardice | 4.2.7
| To rest mistrustful where a noble heart | 4.2.8
| Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love; | 4.2.9
| Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother, | 4.2.10
| Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings: | 4.2.11
| But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine. | 4.2.12
| And now what rests but, in night's coverture, | 4.2.13
| Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd, | 4.2.14
| His soldiers lurking in the towns about, | 4.2.15
| And but attended by a simple guard, | 4.2.16
| We may surprise and take him at our pleasure? | 4.2.17
| Our scouts have found the adventure very easy: | 4.2.18
| That as Ulysses and stout Diomede | 4.2.19
| With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents, | 4.2.20
| And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds, | 4.2.21
| So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle, | 4.2.22
| At unawares may beat down Edward's guard | 4.2.23
| And seize himself; I say not, slaughter him, | 4.2.24
| For I intend but only to surprise him. | 4.2.25
| You that will follow me to this attempt, | 4.2.26
| Applaud the name of Henry with your leader. | 4.2.27
They all cry, 'Henry!'
| | Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort: | 4.2.28
| For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! | 4.2.29
Exeunt
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| Warwick. Then, for his mind, be Edward England's king: | 4.3.49
Takes off his crown
| | But Henry now shall wear the English crown, | 4.3.50
| And be true king indeed, thou but the shadow. | 4.3.51
| My Lord of Somerset, at my request, | 4.3.52
| See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd | 4.3.53
| Unto my brother, Archbishop of York. | 4.3.54
| When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows, | 4.3.55
| I'll follow you, and tell what answer | 4.3.56
| Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him. | 4.3.57
| Now, for a while farewell, good Duke of York. | 4.3.58
They lead him out forcibly
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| Warwick. Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content: | 4.6.48
| We'll yoke together, like a double shadow | 4.6.49
| To Henry's body, and supply his place; | 4.6.50
| I mean, in bearing weight of government, | 4.6.51
| While he enjoys the honour and his ease. | 4.6.52
| And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful | 4.6.53
| Forthwith that Edward be pronounced a traitor, | 4.6.54
| And all his lands and goods be confiscate. | 4.6.55
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| Warwick. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, | 4.8.9
| Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; | 4.8.10
| Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence, | 4.8.11
| Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, | 4.8.12
| The knights and gentlemen to come with thee: | 4.8.13
| Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, | 4.8.14
| Northampton and in Leicestershire, shalt find | 4.8.15
| Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st: | 4.8.16
| And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved, | 4.8.17
| In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends. | 4.8.18
| My sovereign, with the loving citizens, | 4.8.19
| Like to his island girt in with the ocean, | 4.8.20
| Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs, | 4.8.21
| Shall rest in London till we come to him. | 4.8.22
| Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply. | 4.8.23
| Farewell, my sovereign. | 4.8.24
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| Warwick. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe, | 5.2.5
| And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick? | 5.2.6
| Why ask I that? my mangled body shows, | 5.2.7
| My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows. | 5.2.8
| That I must yield my body to the earth | 5.2.9
| And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. | 5.2.10
| Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, | 5.2.11
| Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, | 5.2.12
| Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, | 5.2.13
| Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree | 5.2.14
| And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. | 5.2.15
| These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil, | 5.2.16
| Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun, | 5.2.17
| To search the secret treasons of the world: | 5.2.18
| The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood, | 5.2.19
| Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres; | 5.2.20
| For who lived king, but I could dig his grave? | 5.2.21
| And who durst mine when Warwick bent his brow? | 5.2.22
| Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood! | 5.2.23
| My parks, my walks, my manors that I had. | 5.2.24
| Even now forsake me, and of all my lands | 5.2.25
| Is nothing left me but my body's length. | 5.2.26
| Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? | 5.2.27
| And, live we how we can, yet die we must. | 5.2.28
Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET
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| Warwick. Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague, | 5.2.33
| If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand. | 5.2.34
| And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile! | 5.2.35
| Thou lovest me not; for, brother, if thou didst, | 5.2.36
| Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood | 5.2.37
| That glues my lips and will not let me speak. | 5.2.38
| Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead. | 5.2.39
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