War. Changes to a Field of Battle at St. Albans. Enter Warwick. LIFFORD of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls; CLIF And if thou doft not hide thee from the bear, Enter York. How now, my Lord? what all a foot? York. The deadly-handed Clifford flew my Steed; But match to match I have encountred him, And made a prey for carrion kites and crows Ev'n of the bonny beaft he lov'd fo well. Enter Clifford. War. Of one or both of us the time is come. chace, For I myself muft hunt this deer to death. War. Then nobly, York; 'tis for a Crown thou fight'ft. As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to day, It grieves my foul to leave thee unaffail'd. [Exit War. Cif. What feeft thou in me, York? why doft thou paufe? York. With thy brave Bearing fhould I be in love, But that thou art fo faft mine enemy. Clif. Nor fhould thy Prowefs want praise and esteem, But But that 'tis fhown ignobly, and in treafon. Clif. My foul and body on the action both!-- 2 Clif. La fin couronne les œuvres. [Fight. York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art ftill; Peace with his foul, heav'n, if it be thy will! [Exit. Enter young Clifford. Y. Clif. Shame and confufion! all is on the rout Hath no felt-love; for he, that loves himself, Now let the general trumpet blow his blaft, To ceafe! Waft thou ordained, O dear father, And in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus 2 A dreadful lay.] A dreadful wager; a tremendous fake. And the premised fames] Premifed, for fent before their time The fenfe is, let the flames • To atchieve, to obtain. It shall be ftony. York not our old men fpares : Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's Houfe: So I bear thee upon my manly shoulders; Nothing fo heavy as thefe woes of mine. [Exit bearing off his Father. Enter Richard Plantagenet and Somerset, to fight. R. Plan. So, lie thou there. [Somerset is killed. For underneath an ale-house' paltry Sign, 6 The Castle in St. Albans, Somerset So, lie thou there. For underneath an ale-boufe paltry Sign, The Caftle in St. Alban's, So merlet Hath made the Wizard famous.] The particle for in the fecond line feems to be used without any very apparent inference. We might read, Fall'n underneath an ale-house' paltry fign, &c. Yet the alteration is not neceffary, for the old reading is sense, though obfcure. 2 famous in his death. heart, be wrathful ftill: but Princes kill. [Exit Richard Plantagenet. Famous in his death.] The death of Somerfit here accomplishes that equivocal Prediction given by Jordan, the Witch, ooncerning this Duke; which we met with at the Clofe of the first A&t of this Play : Let him fhun Caftles; Than where Castles mounted, .e. the Reprefentation of a Caf tle, mounted for a Sign. THEOBALD. SCENE VI. SCENE Fight. Excurfions. Enter King Henry, Queen Mar, garet, and others. Q. Mar. Away, my Lord, you are flow; for fhame, away. K. Henry. Can we out-run the heav'ns? Good Margret, ftay. Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll not fight, nor fly. Now is it manhood, wifdom and defence, To give the enemy way, and to fecure us [Alarm afar off. Enter Clifford. Clif. But that my heart's on future mischief fet, I would fpeak blafphemy, ere bid you fly, But fly you must; incurable difcomfit Reigns in the hearts of all our prefent parts. To fee their day, and them our fortune give. [Exeunt. Alarm. Retreat. 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 VOL. V. I Aged Aged contufions and all brush of time; R. Plan. My noble father, Three times to day I holp him to his horfe, But still, where danger was, ftill there I met him; But noble as he is, look, where he comes. Enter Salisbury. Sal. Now, by my fword, well haft thou fought to day; By th' Mafs, fo did we all. I thank you, Richard ; And it hath pleas'd him, that three times to day Well, Lords, we have not got That which we have; 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, Being oppofites of fuch repairing nature. York. I know, our fafety is to follow them; of time. 7 Brufh of time Read bruife WARBURTON, 8 Gallant in the brow of youth.] The brow of youth is an expreffion not very eafily explained. I read the blow of youth. The bloffom, the spring. Three times beftrid bim.] That is, three times I saw him fallen, and, ftriding over him, defended him till he recovered. Now |