Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
War. Attend me Lords, the proud insulting Queene,
War. With Clifford, and the haught Northumberland,
War. And of their Feather, many moe proud Birds,
War. Haue wrought the easie‑melting King, like Wax.
War. He swore consent to your Succession,
War. His Oath enrolled in the Parliament.
War. And now to London all the crew are gone,
War. To frustrate both his Oath, and what beside
War. May make against the house of Lancaster.
War. Their power (I thinke) is thirty thousand strong:
War. Now, if the helpe of Norfolke, and my selfe,
War. With all the Friends that thou braue Earle of March,
War. Among'st the louing Welshmen can'st procure,
War. Will but amount to fiue and twenty thousand,
War. Why Via, to London will we march,
War. And once againe, bestride our foaming Steeds,
War. And once againe cry Charge vpon our Foes,
War. But neuer once againe turne backe and flye.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. I, now me thinks I heare great Warwick speak;