Thy Father was a Traytor to the Crowne
Warw. Exeter thou art a Traytor to the Crowne,
In following this vsurping Henry
Clifford. Whom should hee follow, but his naturall
King?
Warw. True Clifford, that's Richard Duke of Yorke
Henry. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my Throne?
Yorke. It must and shall be so, content thy selfe
Warw. Be Duke of Lancaster, let him be King
Westm. He is both King, and Duke of Lancaster,
And that the Lord of Westmerland shall maintaine
Warw. And Warwick shall disproue it. You forget,
That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
And slew your Fathers, and with Colours spread
Marcht through the Citie to the Pallace Gates
Northumb. Yes Warwicke, I remember it to my griefe,
And by his Soule, thou and thy House shall rue it
Westm. Plantagenet, of thee and these thy Sonnes,
Thy Kinsmen, and thy Friends, Ile haue more liues
Then drops of bloud were in my Fathers Veines
Cliff. Vrge it no more, lest that in stead of words,
I send thee, Warwicke, such a Messenger,
As shall reuenge his death, before I stirre
Warw. Poore Clifford, how I scorne his worthlesse
Threats
Plant. Will you we shew our Title to the Crowne?
If not, our Swords shall pleade it in the field
Henry.
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