1057 War. Fore-spent with Toile, as Runners with a Race,

1058I lay me downe a little while to breath:

1059For strokes receiu'd, and many blowes repaid,

1060Haue robb'd my strong knit sinewes of their strength,

1061And spight of spight, needs must I rest a-while.

1063Ed. Smile gentle heauen, or strike vngentle death,

1064For this world frownes, and Edwards Sunne is clowded.

1065 War. How now my Lord, what happe? what hope of

1066good?

1068Cla. Our hap is losse, our hope but sad dispaire,

1069Our rankes are broke, and ruine followes vs.

1070What counsaile giue you? whether shall we flye?

1071Ed. Bootlesse is flight, they follow vs with Wings,

1072And weake we are, and cannot shun pursuite.

1074 Rich. Ah Warwicke, why hast y^u withdrawn thy selfe?

1075Thy Brothers blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,

1076Broach'd with the Steely point of Cliffords Launce:

1077And in the very pangs of death, he cryde,

1078Like to a dismall Clangor heard from farre,

1079Warwicke, reuenge; Brother, reuenge my death.

1080So vnderneath the belly of their Steeds,

1081That stain'd their Fetlockes in his smoaking blood,

1082The Noble Gentleman gaue vp the ghost.

1083War. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood:

1084Ile kill my Horse, because I will not flye:

1085Why stand we like soft-hearted women heere,

1086Wayling our losses, whiles the Foe doth Rage,

1087And looke vpon, as if the Tragedie

1088Were plaid in iest, by counterfetting Actors.

1089Heere on my knee, I vow to God aboue,

1090Ile neuer pawse againe, neuer stand still,

1091Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine,

1092Or Fortune giuen me measure of Reuenge.

1093Ed. Oh Warwicke, I do bend my knee with thine,

1094And in this vow do chaine my soule to thine:

1095And ere my knee rise from the Earths cold face,

1096I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee,

1097Thou setter vp, and plucker downe of Kings:

1098Beseeching thee (if with thy will it stands)

1099That to my Foes this body must be prey,

1100Yet that thy brazen gates of heauen may ope,

1101And giue sweet passage to my sinfull soule.

1102Now Lords, take leaue vntill we meete againe,

1103Where ere it be, in heauen, or in earth.

1104Rich. Brother,

1105Giue me thy hand, and gentle Warwicke,

1106Let me imbrace thee in my weary armes:

1107I that did neuer weepe, now melt with wo,

1108That Winter should cut off our Spring-time so.

1109War. Away, away:

1110Once more sweet Lords farwell.

1111Cla. Yet let vs altogether to our Troopes,

1112And giue them leaue to flye, that will not stay:

1113And call them Pillars that will stand to vs:

1114And if we thriue, promise them such rewards

1115As Victors weare at the Olympian Games.

1116This may plant courage in their quailing breasts,

1117For yet is hope of Life and Victory:

p2 Fore-

1118Foreslow no longer, make we hence amaine. Exeunt