[♦] Giue thee thy hire and send thy soule to hell,
Pernitious blood-sucker of sleeping men.
110 Suffol. Thou shouldst be waking whilst I shead thy blood,
If from this presence thou dare go with me.
War. Away euen now, or I will drag thee hence. Warwicke puls him out.
Exet Warwicke and Suffolke, and then all the Commons within, cries, downe with Suffolke, downe with Suffolk.
And then enter againe, the Duke of Suffolke and Warwicke, with their weapons drawne.
King. Why how now Lords?
Suf. The Traitorous Warwicke with the men of Berry,
[115] Set all vpon me mightie soueraigne i
The Commons againe cries, downe with Suffolke, downe with Suffolke. And then enter from them, the Earle of Salbury.