1060914Hath robd my strong knit sinnews of their strength,

1061915And force perforce needes must I rest my selfe.

1063917Edw. Smile gentle heauens or strike vngentle death,

1064918That we maie die vnlesse we gaine the daie:

1065919What fatall starre malignant frownes from heauen

1066920Vpon the harmelesse line of Yorkes true house?

1068922George. Come brother, come, lets to the field againe,

1069923For yet theres hope inough to win the daie:

1070924Then let vs backe to cheere our fainting Troupes,

1071925Lest they retire now we haue left the field.

1072926War. How now my lords: what hap, what hope of good?

1074928Rich. Ah Warwike, why haste thou withdrawne thy selfe?

1075929Thy noble father in the thickest thronges,

1076930Cride still for Warwike his thrise valiant son,

1077931Vntill with thousand swords he was beset,

1078932And manie wounds made in his aged brest,

1080933And as he tottering sate vpon his steede,

1079934He waft his hand to me and cride aloud:

1081935Richard, commend me to my valiant sonne,

936And still he cride Warwike reuenge my death,

937And with those words he tumbled off his horse,

1082938And so the noble Salsbury gaue vp the ghost.

1083939War. Then let the earth be drunken with his bloud,

1084940Ile kill my horse because I will not flie:

1089941And here to God of heauen I make a vow,

1090942Neuer to passe from forth this bloudy field

1091943Till I am full reuenged for his death.

1093944Edw. Lord Warwike, I doe bend my knees with thine,