King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
Stay we no longer dreaming of renown,
But sound the trumpets, and about our task. 200
Rich. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,—
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,—
I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
Edw. Then strike up, drums! God, and Saint George for us! 204
Enter a Messenger.
War. How now! what news?
Mess. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
The queen is coming with a puissant host;
And craves your company for speedy counsel. 208
War. Why then it; brave warriors, let's away.
Flourish. Enter the King, the Queen, Clifford, Northumberland, and young Prince, with drum and trumpets.
Queen. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy,
That sought to be encompass'd with your crown:
Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? 4
King. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wrack:
To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
209 sorts: turns out well