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Part 24

King Henry Vi, Part 3 · William Shakespeare — chapter 24 of 30 · ~495 words · public domain

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Maior. True, my good Lord, I know you for no lesse

Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my Dukedome, As being well content with that alone

Rich. But when the Fox hath once got in his Nose, Hee'le soone finde meanes to make the Body follow

Hast. Why, Master Maior, why stand you in a doubt? Open the Gates, we are King Henries friends

Maior. I, say you so? the Gates shall then be opened.

He descends.

Rich. A wise stout Captaine, and soone perswaded

Hast. The good old man would faine that all were wel, So 'twere not long of him: but being entred, I doubt not I, but we shall soone perswade Both him, and all his Brothers, vnto reason. Enter the Maior, and two Aldermen.

Edw. So, Master Maior: these Gates must not be shut, But in the Night, or in the time of Warre. What, feare not man, but yeeld me vp the Keyes,

Takes his Keyes.

For Edward will defend the Towne, and thee, And all those friends, that deine to follow mee.

March. Enter Mountgomerie, with Drumme and Souldiers.

Rich. Brother, this is Sir Iohn Mountgomerie, Our trustie friend, vnlesse I be deceiu'd

Edw. Welcome Sir Iohn: but why come you in Armes? Mount. To helpe King Edward in his time of storme, As euery loyall Subiect ought to doe

Edw. Thankes good Mountgomerie: But we now forget our Title to the Crowne, And onely clayme our Dukedome, Till God please to send the rest

Mount. Then fare you well, for I will hence againe, I came to serue a King, and not a Duke: Drummer strike vp, and let vs march away.

The Drumme begins to march.

Edw. Nay stay, Sir Iohn, a while, and wee'le debate By what safe meanes the Crowne may be recouer'd

Mount. What talke you of debating? in few words, If you'le not here proclaime your selfe our King, Ile leaue you to your fortune, and be gone, To keepe them back, that come to succour you. Why shall we fight, if you pretend no Title? Rich. Why Brother, wherefore stand you on nice points? Edw. When wee grow stronger, Then wee'le make our Clayme: Till then, 'tis wisdome to conceale our meaning

Hast. Away with scrupulous Wit, now Armes must rule

Rich. And fearelesse minds clyme soonest vnto Crowns. Brother, we will proclaime you out of hand, The bruit thereof will bring you many friends

Edw. Then be it as you will: for 'tis my right, And Henry but vsurpes the Diademe

Mount. I, now my Soueraigne speaketh like himselfe, And now will I be Edwards Champion

Hast. Sound Trumpet, Edward shal be here proclaim'd: Come, fellow Souldior, make thou proclamation.

Flourish. Sound.

Soul. Edward the Fourth, by the Grace of God, King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, &c

Mount. And whosoe're gainsayes King Edwards right, By this I challenge him to single fight.

Throwes downe his Gauntlet.

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