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Field near Saint Albans. | |
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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. | |
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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 pleasd 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 Albans battle, won by famous York, | |
Shall be eternizd in all age to come. | 35 |
Sound, drums and trumpets, and to London all: | |
And more such days as these to us befall! [Exeunt. | |
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