_K. Hen._ Poor queen! how love to me and to her son [caa264] Hath made her break out into terms of rage! ·caa265· Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle [caa268] Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! The loss of those three lords torments my heart: ·caa270· I’ll write unto them and entreat them fair. Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger. _Exe._ And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. [caa273] [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _Sandal Castle_. _Enter_ RICHARD, EDWARD, _and_ MONTAGUE. _Rich._ Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. [cab001] _Edw._ No, I can better play the orator. _Mont._ But I have reasons strong and forcible. _Enter the_ DUKE OF YORK. _York._ Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? [cab004] What is your quarrel? how began it first? ·cab005· _Edw._ No quarrel, but a slight contention. [cab006] _York._ About what? _Rich._ About that which concerns your grace and us; The crown of England, father, which is yours. _York._ Mine, boy? not till King Henry be dead. [cab010] _Rich._ Your right depends not on his life or death. _Edw._ Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, It will outrun you, father, in the end. _York._ I took an oath that he should quietly reign. ·cab015· _Edw._ But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. [cab017] _Rich._ No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. _York._ I shall be, if I claim by open war. _Rich._ I’ll prove the contrary, if you’ll hear me speak. ·cab020· _York._ Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. _Rich._ An oath is of no moment, being not took Before a true and lawful magistrate, That hath authority over him that swears: [cab024] Henry had none, but did usurp the place; ·cab025· Then, seeing ’twas he that made you to depose, Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; Within whose circuit is Elysium ·cab030· And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest Until the white rose that I wear be dyed Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart. _York._ Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. ·cab035· Brother, thou shalt to London presently, [cab036] And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, [cab038] And tell him privily of our intent. You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, [cab040] With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: In them I trust; for they are soldiers, Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. [cab043] While you are thus employ’d, what resteth more, But that I seek occasion how to rise, ·cab045· And yet the king not privy to my drift, [cab046] Nor any of the house of Lancaster? [cab047]