3 WATCHMAN.
O, is it so? But why commands the King
That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
While he himself keeps in the cold field?
2 WATCHMAN.
’Tis the more honour, because more dangerous.
3 WATCHMAN.
Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
I like it better than dangerous honour.
If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
’Tis to be doubted he would waken him.
1 WATCHMAN.
Unless our halberds did shut up his passage.
2 WATCHMAN.
Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent
But to defend his person from night-foes?
Enter Warwick, George (Duke of Clarence), Oxford, Somerset and French Soldiers, silent all.
WARWICK.
This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
Courage, my masters! Honour now or never!
But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
1 WATCHMAN.
Who goes there?
2 WATCHMAN.
Stay, or thou diest.
[Warwick and the rest cry all, “Warwick! Warwick!” and set upon the guard, who fly, crying “Arm! Arm!” Warwick and the rest following them.]