21511060Which euery day their withered hands hold vp

21521061To heauen to pardon blood,

21531062And I haue built two chanceries, more wil I do:

21561063Tho all that I can do, is all too litle.

21601065Glost. My Lord.

21611066King. My brother Glosters voyce.

2161.11067Glost. My Lord, the Army stayes vpon your presence.

21621068King. Stay Gloster, stay, and I will go with thee,

21631069The day my friends, and all things stayes for me.

2237.11071War. My Lords the French are very strong.

22451072Exe. There is fiue to one, and yet they all are fresh.

22431073War. Of fighting men they haue full fortie thousand.

22461074Sal. The oddes is all too great. Farewell kind Lords:

22501075Braue Clarence, and my Lord of Gloster,

22511076My Lord of Warwicke, and to all farewell.

22551077Clar. Farewell kind Lord, fight valiantly to day,

22531078And yet in truth, I do thee wrong,

22541079For thou art made on the rrue sparkes of honour.

22591081War. O would we had but ten thousand men

22611082Now at this instant, that doth not worke in England.

22621083King. Whose that, that wishes so, my Cousen Warwick?

22631084Gods will, I would not loose the honour

22661085One man would share from me,

2266.11086Not for my Kingdome.

22671087No faith my Cousen, wish not one man more,

22781088Rather proclaime it presently through our campe,

22791089That he that hath no stomacke to this feast,

22801090Let him depart, his pasport shall bee drawne,

22811091And crownes for conuoy put into his purse,