Henry VI, Part 2 (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
146
The second Part of Henry the Sixt.
¶
Enter Richard, and Somerset to fight.
¶Rich. So lye thou there:
¶Hath made the Wizard famous in his death:
¶Sword, hold thy temper; Heart, be wrathfull still:
¶Priests pray for enemies, but Princes kill.
3295
Fight. Excursions.
¶
Enter King, Queene, and others.
¶King. Can we outrun the Heauens? Good Margaret
¶stay.
3300Qu. What are you made of? You'l nor fight nor fly:
¶Now is it manhood, wisedome, and defence,
¶To giue the enemy way, and to secure vs
¶By what we can, which can no more but flye.
¶
Alarum a farre off.
¶Of all our Fortunes: but if we haply scape,
¶(As well we may, if not through your neglect)
¶We shall to London get, where you are lou'd,
¶And where this breach now in our Fortunes made
3310May readily be stopt.
¶
Enter Clifford.
3315Reignes in the hearts of all our present parts.
¶Away for your releefe, and we will liue
¶To see their day, and them our Fortune giue.
¶Away my Lord, away.
Exeunt
¶
Alarum. Retreat. Enter Yorke, Richard, Warwicke,
3320
and Soldiers, with Drum & Colours.
¶That Winter Lyon, who in rage forgets
¶And like a Gallant, in the brow of youth,
3325Repaires him with Occasion. This happy day
¶Is not it selfe, nor haue we wonne one foot,
¶Rich. My Noble Father:
¶Three times to day I holpe him to his horse,
3330Three times bestrid him: Thrice I led him off,
¶Perswaded him from any further act:
¶And like rich hangings in a homely house,
¶So was his Will, in his old feeble body,
3335But Noble as he is, looke where he comes.
¶
Enter Salisbury.
¶God knowes how long it is I haue to liue:
3340And it hath pleas'd him that three times to day
¶You haue defended me from imminent death.
¶Well Lords, we haue not got that which we haue,
¶'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
¶For (as I heare) the King is fled to London,
¶To call a present Court of Parliament:
¶Let vs pursue him ere the Writs go forth.
3350War. After them: nay before them if we can:
¶Now by my hand (Lords) 'twas a glorious day.
¶Saint Albons battell wonne by famous Yorke,
¶Shall be eterniz'd in all Age to come.
¶Sound Drumme and Trumpets, and to London all,
Exeunt.
¶
FINIS.
