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* In cruelty will I seek out my fame.

'Come, thou 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 MARGARET, 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
* By what we can, which can no more but fly.

[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;

into several pieces, that her father might be prevented for some time from pursuing her.

* 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!

Alarum:

SCENE III.

Fields near Saint Albans.

[Exeunt.

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,

all our present parts.] i. e. party. TYRWHITT. brush of time;] i. e. the gradual detrition of time. gallant in the brow of youth,] The brow of youth is the height of youth, as the brow of a hill is its summit.

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Three times bestrid him,] That is, Three times I saw him fallen, and, striding over him, defended him till he recovered.

"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.

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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: '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.

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' 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:-
'What says lord Warwick? shall we after them?
War. After them! nay, before them, if we can.
Now by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day:
Saint Albans battle, won by famous York,
Shall be eterniz'd in all age to come.-
Sound, drums and trumpets;-and to London all:
And more such days as these to us befall! [Exeunt.

9 Well, lords, we have not got that which we have ;] i. e. we have not secured, we are not sure of retaining, that which we have acquired.

* Being opposites of such repairing nature.] Being enemies that are likely so soon to rally and recover themselves from this defeat.

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HFuseli RA, de!

Henry, the Lieutenant of the Tower:
Enter Gloster. Good day, my Lord! What
at your book so hard?

Publish'd by C. & F. Rivington London Dec1.1803.

I Neagle se!

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