To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn’d an open hand in sign of love;
10 Else might I think that Clarence, Edward’s brother,
Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings:
[♦] But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
[♦] And now what rests but, in night’s coverture,
Thy brother being carelessly encamp’d,
[15] His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
And but attended by a simple guard,
We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?