could not fail morally to weaken Warwick, and dishearten his army by
fear that desertion should prove, as it ever does, the most contagious
disease that can afflict a camp. It is probable, however, that the
enthusiasm which had surrounded the earl with volunteers so numerous had
far exceeded the anticipations of the inexperienced Clarence, and would
have forbid him that opportunity of betraying the earl. However this be,
the rival armies drew nearer and nearer. The king halted in his rapid
march at a small village, and took up his quarters in a fortified house,
to which there was no access but by a single bridge. [Sharon Turner,
Comines.] Edward himself retired for a short time to his couch, for he
had need of all his strength in the battle he foresaw; but scarce had he
closed his eyes, when Alexander Carlile [Hearne: Fragment], the serjeant
of the royal minstrels, followed by Hastings and Rivers (their jealousy
laid at rest for a time in the sense of their king's danger), rushed
into his room.

"Arm, sire, arm!--Lord Montagu has thrown off the mask, and rides
through thy troops, shouting 'Long live King Henry!'"

"Ah, traitor!" cried the king, leaping from his bed. "From Warwick hate
was my due, but not from Montagu! Rivers, help to buckle on my mail.
Hastings, post my body-guard at the bridge. We will sell our lives
dear."

Hastings vanished. Edward had scarcely hurried on his helm, cuirass, and
greaves, when Gloucester entered, calm in the midst of peril.

"Your enemies are marching to seize you, brother. Hark! behind you rings
the cry, 'A Fitzhugh! a Robin! death to the tyrant!' Hark! in front, 'A
Montagu! a Warwick! Long live King Henry!' I come to redeem my word,--to
share your exile or your death. Choose either while there is yet time.
Thy choice is mine!"

And while he spoke, behind, before, came the various cries nearer and
nearer. The lion of March was in the toils.

"Now, my two-handed sword!" said Edward. "Gloucester, in this weapon
learn my choice!"

But now all the principal barons and captains, still true to the king
whose crown was already lost, flocked in a body to the chamber. They
fell on their knees, and with tears implored him to save himself for a
happier day.

"There is yet time to escape," said D'Eyncourt, "to pass the bridge, to
gain the seaport! Think not that a soldier's death will be left thee.
Numbers will suffice to encumber thine arm, to seize thy person. Live
not to be Warwick's