SCENE I. Coventry.

Enter WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others upon the walls

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

By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

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

By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE

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

At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
And do expect him here some two hours hence.

Drum heard

Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.

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

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

They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.

March: flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers

Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.

See how the surly Warwick mans the wall!

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?

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.

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.

I thought, at least, he would have said the king;
Or did he make the jest against his will?

Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?

Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give:
I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.

Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight:
And weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:
And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
What is the body when the head is off?