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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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SCENE II. Sandal Castle, near Wakefield in Yorkshire. A Room in the Castle. Enter Edward, Richard, and Mountague.

Ric.
Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

-- 13 --

Edw.
No, I can better play the orator.

Mou.
But I have reasons strong and forceable.
Enter York.

Yor.
Why, how now, sons, and cousin, note at a strife?
What is your quarrel? how began it first?

Edw.
No quarrel, but a slight contention note.

Yor.
About what?

Ric.
About that which concerns your grace, and us;
The crown of England, father, which is yours.

Yor.
Mine, boy? not 'till king Henry be dead.

Ric.
Your right depends not on his life, or death.

Edw.
Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now:
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breath,
It will out-run you, father, in the end.

Yor.
I took an oath, that he should quietly reign.

Edw.
But, for a kingdom, any oath may be broken:
I'd break a thousand oaths, to reign one year.

Ric.
No; God forbid, your grace should be forsworn.

Yor.
I shall be, if I claim by open war.

Ric.
I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.

Yor.
Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.

Ric.
An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate,
That hath authority over him that swears:
Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms: And, father, do but think,
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Within whose circuit is Elyzium,
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest,

-- 14 --


Until the white rose, that I wear, be dy'd
Even in the luke-warm blood of Henry's heart.

Yor.
Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.—
Cousin, thou note shalt to London presently,
And whet on Warwick to this enterprize.—
Thou, Richard, shalt to the duke of Norfolk go,
And tell him privily of our intent.—
You, Edward, shall unto my lord of Cobham,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
Witty, and note courteous,14Q0837 liberal, full of spirit.—
While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more,
But that I seek occasion how to rise;
And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster? Enter a Messenger note, hastily.
But, stay; What news?—Why com'st thou in such post?

Mes.
The queen, with all the northern earls and lords,
Intend here to besiege you in your castle:
She is hard by with twenty thousand men;
And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.

Yor.
Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou, that we fear them?—
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;—
My cousin note Mountague shall post to London:
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we have left protectors of the king,
With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
And trust not simple Henry, nor his oaths.

Mou.
Cousin, I go note; I'll win them, fear it not:
And thus most humbly I do take my leave. [Exit Mountague.

-- 15 --

Enter Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer.

Yor.
Sir John, and sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles!
You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
The army of the queen mean to besiege us.

Sir J.
She shall not need, we'll meet her in the field.

Yor.
What, with five thousand men?

Ric.
Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
A woman's general; What should we fear?
[March afar off.

Edw.
I hear their drums: Let's set our men in order;
And issue forth, and bid them battle straight.

Yor.
Five men to twenty!—though the odds be great,
I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
Many a battle have I won in France,
When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
Why should I not now have the like success?
[Alarum. Exeunt.
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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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