I never mean to part my lips again
In any words that tends to such a suit.
Arise, true English Lady, whom our Isle
May better boast of than ever Roman might
Of her, whose ransacked treasury hath taskt
The vain endeavor of so many pens:
Arise, and be my fault thy honor's fame,
Which after ages shall enrich thee with.
I am awakened from this idle dream.--
Warwick, my Son, Darby, Artois, and Audley!
Brave warriors all, where are you all this while?

[Enter all.]

Warwick, I make thee Warden of the North:
Thou, Prince of Wales, and Audley, straight to Sea;
Scour to New-haven; some there stay for me:
My self, Artois, and Darby will through Flanders,
To greet our friends there and to crave their aide.
This night will scarce suffice a faithful lover;
For, ere the Sun shall gild the eastern sky,
We'll wake him with our Marshall harmony.

[Exeunt.]


ACT III. SCENE I. Flanders. The French Camp.

[Enter King John of France, his two sons, Charles of
Normandy, and Phillip, and the Duke of Lorrain.]