_York._ From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right,   [bea001] And pluck the crown from feeble Henry’s head: Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright, To entertain great England’s lawful king. Ah! sancta majestas, who would not buy thee dear?   [bea005] Let them obey that know not how to rule;   [bea006] This hand was made to handle nought but gold. I cannot give due action to my words,   [bea008] Except a sword or sceptre balance it: A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul,   [bea010] On which I’ll toss the flower-de-luce of France.   [bea011] _Enter_ BUCKINGHAM. Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble. _Buck._ York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well. _York._ Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.   ·bea015· Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure? _Buck._ A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, To know the reason of these arms in peace; Or why thou, being a subject as I am, Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,   ·bea020· Should raise so great a power without his leave,   [bea021] Or dare to bring thy force so near the court. _York._ [_Aside_] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great:   [bea023] O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, I am so angry at these abject terms;   ·bea025· And now, like Ajax Telamonius, On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.   [bea027] I am far better born than is the king, More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts: But I must make fair weather yet a while,   ·bea030· Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.-- Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me,   [bea032] That I have given no answer all this while; My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. The cause why I have brought this army hither   ·bea035· Is to remove proud Somerset from the king, Seditious to his grace and to the state. _Buck._ That is too much presumption on thy part: But if thy arms be to no other end,   [bea039] The king hath yielded unto thy demand:   ·bea040· The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower. _York._ Upon thine honour, is he prisoner? _Buck._ Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.   [bea043] _York._ Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers. Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;   ·bea045· Meet me to-morrow in Saint George’s field, You shall have pay and every thing you wish. And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons, As pledges of my fealty and love;   ·bea050· I’ll send them all as willing as I live: Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have, Is his to use, so Somerset may die. _Buck._ York, I commend this kind submission: We twain will go into his highness’ tent.   [bea055] _Enter_ KING _and_ Attendants. _King._ Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,   [bea056] That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm? _York._ In all submission and humility York doth present himself unto your highness.