And that Ile write vpon thy Burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy housed Badge

War. Now by my Fathers badge, old Neuils Crest,
The rampant Beare chain'd to the ragged staffe,
This day Ile weare aloft my Burgonet,
As on a Mountaine top, the Cedar shewes,
That keepes his leaues inspight of any storme,
Euen to affright thee with the view thereof

Old Clif. And from thy Burgonet Ile rend thy Beare,
And tread it vnder foot with all contempt,
Despight the Bearard, that protects the Beare

Yo.Clif. And so to Armes victorious Father,
To quell the Rebels, and their Complices

Rich. Fie, Charitie for shame, speake not in spight,
For you shall sup with Iesu Christ to night

Yo.Clif. Foule stygmaticke that's more then thou
canst tell

Ric. If not in heauen, you'l surely sup in hell.

Exeunt.

Enter Warwicke.

War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwicke calles: