*The silver livery of advised age; * And, in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus *To die in ruffian battle?-Even at this sight, * My heart is turn'd to stone: and, while 'tis mine, * It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; * No more will I their babes: tears virginal * Shall be to me even as the dew to fire; * And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims, * Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. * Henceforth, I will not have to do with pity: * Meet I an infant of the house of York, * Into as many gobbets will I cut it, * As wild Medea young Absyrtus did: * In cruelty will I seek out my fame. 'Come, thcu new ruin of old Clifford's house; [Taking up the body. As did Æneas old Anchises bear, 'So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders; * But then Æneas bare a living load, * Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. [Exit, Enter RICHARD Plantagenet and SOMERSET, fighting, and SOMERSET is killed. Rich. So, lie thou there ; For, underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset Hath made the wizard famous in his death. * Sword, hold thy temper, heart, be wrathful still: * Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [Exit. Alarums: excursions, Enter King Henry, Queen MAR GARET, and others, retreating, Q. Mar. Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away! * K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay. * Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll not fight, nor fly: * Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence, * To give the enemy way; and to secure us [Alarum afar off. * If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom *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 lov'd; * And where this breach, now in our fortunes made, * May readily be stopp'd. Enter Young CLifford. *Y. Clif. But that my heart's on future mischief set, * I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly; * But fly you must; uncurable discomfit * Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts. * Away, for your relief! and we will live * To see their day, and them our fortune give: *Away, my lord, away! [Exeunt SCENE III-Fields near Saint Albans. Alarum: retreat. Flourish; then enter YORK, Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, and Soldiers, with drum and colours. York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him; * That winter lion, who, in rage, forgets * Aged contusions and all brush of time; * And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, * Repairs him with occasion? this happy day * Is not itself, nor have we won one foot, *If Salisbury be lost. Rich. My noble father, Three times to-day I holp him to his horse, Three times bestrid him, thrice I led him off, 'Persuaded him from any further act: But still, where danger was, still there I met him,' * And like rich hangings in a homely house, * So was his will in his old feeble body. * But, noble as he is, look where he comes. Enter SALISBURY. Sal. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought today; By th' mass, so did we all.-I thank you, Richard: 'God knows, how long it is I have to live; And it hath pleas'd him, that three times to-day 'You have defended me from imminent death.* Well, lords, we have not got that which we have: * 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, * Being opposites of such repairing nature. York. I know, our safety is to follow them; For, as I hear, the king is fled to London, Let us pursue him, ere the writs go forth:- Sound, drums and trumpets;-and to London all: [Exeunt |