PRINCE EDWARD

Father, you cannot disinherit me: If you be King, why should not I succeed? When I return with victory to the field, I'll see your Grace: till then, I'll follow her. Me thinks a Woman of this valiant Spirit, Should, if a Coward herd her speak these words, Infuse his Breast with Magnanimity, And make him, naked, foil a man at Arms. I speak not this, as doubting any here: For did I but suspect a fearful man, He should have leave to go away betimes, Least in our needs he might infect another, And make him of Like spirit to himself. If any such be here, as God forbid, Let him depart, before we need his help. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else. Speak Like a Subject, proud ambitious York. Suppose that I am now my Father's Mouth, Resign thy Chair, and where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee, Which (Traitor) thou wouldst have me answer to. Let Aesop fable in a Winter's Night, His Currish Riddles sorts not with this place. Nay, take away this scolding Crookback, rather. I know my duty, you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George, And thou misshapen Dick, I tell you all, I am your better, Traitors as you are, And thou usurpest my Father's right and mine. My gracious Father, by your Kingly leave, I'll draw it as Apparent to the Crown, And in that quarrel, use it to the death. My Royal Father, cheer these Noble Lords, And hearten those that fight in your defence: Unsheath your Sword, good Father: Cry S. George. Fly Father, fly: for all your Friends are fled. And Warwick rages Like a chafed Bull: Away, for death does hold us in pursuit. If that be right, which Warwick says is right, There is no wrong, but every thing is right. To Edward, but not to the English King. Nay mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled. I hope, all's for the best. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it, And here to pledge my Vow, I give my hand.