But thou mistakes me much to thinke I do,
To Bedlem with him, is the man growne mad

King. I Clifford, a Bedlem and ambitious humor
Makes him oppose himselfe against his King

Clif. He is a Traitor, let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his

Qu. He is arrested, but will not obey:
His sonnes (he sayes) shall giue their words for him

Yor. Will you not Sonnes?
Edw. I Noble Father, if our words will serue

Rich. And if words will not, then our Weapons shal

Clif. Why what a brood of Traitors haue we heere?
Yorke. Looke in a Glasse, and call thy Image so.
I am thy King, and thou a false-heart Traitor:
Call hither to the stake my two braue Beares,
That with the very shaking of their Chaines,
They may astonish these fell-lurking Curres,
Bid Salsbury and Warwicke come to me.
Enter the Earles of Warwicke, and Salisbury.

Clif. Are these thy Beares? Wee'l bate thy Bears to death,
And manacle the Berard in their Chaines,
If thou dar'st bring them to the bayting place