165 What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?
War. Do right unto this princely Duke of York,
Or I will fill the house with armed men,
[♦] And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
Write up his title with usurping blood. [He stamps with his foot, and the Soldiers show themselves.
[170] K. Hen. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word:
Let me for this my life-time reign as king.
[♦] York. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,
And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest.
King. I am content: Richard Plantagenet,