War. Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum.
[♦] Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies:
[♦] The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.
War. Who should that be? belike, unlook’d-for friends.
15 Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
March: flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers.
[♦] K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
Glou. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall!
War. O unbid spite! is sportful Edward come?
Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced,