[♦] See where they come: I’ll warrant they’ll make it good.
Enter old CLIFFORD and his Son.
Queen. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
[♦] Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king! [Kneels.
[125] York. I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news with thee?
[♦] Nay, do not fright us with an angry look:
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
[130] But thou mistakest me much to think I do: