[Taking the red rose from his hat and throws the rose at Warwick.]
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee.
I will not ruinate my father’s house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war
Against his brother and his lawful King?
Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath.
To keep that oath were more impiety
Than Jephthah’s when he sacrificed his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made
That, to deserve well at my brother’s hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,
With resolution, whereso’er I meet thee—
As I will meet thee if thou stir abroad—
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends.
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
KING EDWARD.
Now, welcome more, and ten times more beloved,
Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.
RICHARD.
Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.
WARWICK.
O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!
KING EDWARD.
What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
WARWICK.
Alas! I am not cooped here for defence!
I will away towards Barnet presently
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar’st.
KING EDWARD.
Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.
Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory!
[Exeunt. March. Warwick and his company follows.]