Scene Eight
[London. A Room in the Bishop of London’s Palace]
Flourish. Enter the King [Henry], Warwick, Montague, Clarence, Oxford, and Exeter.
War. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
And with his troops doth march amain to London; 4
And many giddy people flock to him.
King. Let's levy men, and beat him back again.
Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. 8
War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence,
Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, 12
The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:
Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st: 16
And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov'd,
In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
Like to his island girt in with the ocean, 20
Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
Shall rest in London till we come to him.
Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply.
Farewell, my sovereign. 24
K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope.
Scene Eight S. d. Exeter; cf. n.
8 suffer'd: ignored
23 stand: delay
