And weakling, Warwike takes his gift againe,
Henry is my king, Warwike his subiect.
Edw. I prethe gallant Warwike tell me this,
30 What is the bodie when the head is off?
[♦] Glo. Alasse that Warwike had no more foresight,
[♦] But whilst he sought to steale the single ten,
[♦] The king was finelie fingerd from the decke?
You left poore Henry in the Bishops pallace,
[35] And ten to one you’le meet him in the Tower.
Edw. Tis euen so, and yet you are olde Warwike still.