_King._ Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son! What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian, And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?   ·bea165· O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty? If it be banish’d from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbour in the earth? Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,   [bea169] And shame thine honourable age with blood?   [bea170] Why art thou old, and want’st experience? Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it? For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me That bows unto the grave with mickle age.   [bea174] _Sal._ My lord, I have consider’d with myself   [bea175] The title of this most renowned duke; And in my conscience do repute his grace The rightful heir to England’s royal seat. _King._ Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me? _Sal._ I have.   ·bea180· _King._ Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?   [bea181] _Sal._ It is great sin to swear unto a sin, But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. Who can be bound by any solemn vow To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,   ·bea185· To force a spotless virgin’s chastity, To reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her custom’d right, And have no other reason for this wrong   [bea189] But that he was bound by a solemn oath?   ·bea190· _Queen._ A subtle traitor needs no sophister. _King._ Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. _York._ Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, I am resolved for death or dignity.   [bea194] _Clif._ The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.   [bea195] _War._ You were best to go to bed and dream again,   [bea196] To keep thee from the tempest of the field. _Clif._ I am resolved to bear a greater storm Than any thou canst conjure up to-day; And that I’ll write upon thy burgonet,   ·bea200· Might I but know thee by thy household badge.   [bea201] _War._ Now, by my father’s badge, old Nevil’s crest,   [bea202] The rampant bear chain’d to the ragged staff,   [bea203] This day I’ll wear aloft my burgonet, As on a mountain top the cedar shows   ·bea205· That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm, Even to affright thee with the view thereof.   [bea207] _Clif._ And from thy burgonet I’ll rend thy bear And tread it under foot with all contempt, Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.   [bea210] _Y. Clif._ And so to arms, victorious father,   [bea211] To quell the rebels and their complices.   [bea212] _Rich._ Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. _Y. Clif._ Foul stigmatic, that’s more than thou canst tell.   ·bea215· _Rich._ If not in heaven, you’ll surely sup in hell.   [bea216]     [_Exeunt severally._ SCENE II. _Saint Alban’s_. _Alarums to the battle. Enter_ WARWICK.