| |
Field near Saint Alban’s. | |
| |
Alarum. Retreat. Flourish; then enter YORK, RICHARD, 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, | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| 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, | 15 |
| 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 to-day; | |
| By the mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard: | 20 |
| 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, | 25 |
| 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, | |
| To call a present court of parliament: | |
| Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth:— | 30 |
| What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them? | |
| War. After them! nay, before them, if we can. | |
| Now, by my hand, lords, ’twas a glorious day: | |
| Saint Alban’s battle, won by famous York, | |
| Shall be eterniz’d in all age to come. | 35 |
| Sound, drums and trumpets, and to London all: | |
| And more such days as these to us befall! [Exeunt. | |
| |
