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.
Clif. But that my heart's on future mischief set, 84
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 88
To see their day and them our fortune give.
Away, my lord, away! Exeunt.
Scene Three
[Field near Saint Albans]
Alarum. Retreat. 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,
And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, 4
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, 8
Three times bestrid him; thrice I led him off,
Persuaded him from any further act:
86 discomfit: discouragement
87 all . . . parts: all of our party here
89 their day: a day of victory like theirs
them . . . give: impose on them a misfortune like this of ours
2 winter: aged
3 brush: wear and tear
4 brow: forefront
5 Repairs . . . occasion: grows more vigorous as he is called upon to exert himself
9 bestrid: stood over, to defend him when prostrate
