What, the French retire?

15.224861229Yet all is not done; yet keep the French the field.

The Duke of York commends him to your grace.

Lives he, good uncle? Twice I saw him down,

15.524891232Twice up again,

15.624901233From helmet to the spur all bleeding o'er.

In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,

15.824921235Larding the plains. And by his bloody side,

15.924931236Yoke-fellow to his honor-dyeing wounds,

15.1024941237The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

15.1124951238Suffolk first died, and York, all hasted o'er,

15.1224961239Comes to him where in blood he lay steeped,

15.1324971240And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes

15.1424981241That bloodily did yawn upon his face,

15.1524991242And cried aloud, "Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk.

15.1625001243My soul shall thine keep company in heaven.

15.1725011244Tarry, dear soul, awhile, then fly to rest,

15.1825021245And in this glorious and well-foughten field,

15.1925031246We kept together in our chivalry."

15.2025041247Upon these words I came and cheered them up.

15.2125051248He took me by the hand, 2506said, "Dear my lord,

15.2225071249Commend my service to my sovereign."

15.2325081250So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

15.2425091251He threw his wounded arm, 2510and so espoused

15.25To death, 1252with blood he sealed: 2511an argument

15.261253Of never-ending love.

15.272512 The pretty and sweet manner of it 1254forced

15.282513Those waters from me which I would have stopped,

15.2925141255But I not so much of man in me,

15.3025151256But all my mother came into my eyes,

15.3125161257And gave me up to tears.

And gave me up to tears. I blame you not,

15.322518For hearing you, 1259I must convert to tears.

15.3325201261What new alarum is this?

15.3425221262Bid every soldier kill his prisoner.

Couple gorge.