NORTHUMBERLAND.
If I be not, heavens be revenged on me!
CLIFFORD.
The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.
WESTMORELAND.
What, shall we suffer this? Let’s pluck him down.
My heart for anger burns. I cannot brook it.
KING HENRY.
Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
CLIFFORD.
Patience is for poltroons, such as he.
He durst not sit there had your father lived.
My gracious lord, here in the parliament
Let us assail the family of York.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Well hast thou spoken, cousin. Be it so.
KING HENRY.
Ah, know you not the city favours them,
And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?
EXETER.
But when the Duke is slain, they’ll quickly fly.
KING HENRY.
Far be the thought of this from Henry’s heart,
To make a shambles of the Parliament House!
Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats
Shall be the war that Henry means to use.
[They advance to the Duke.]