Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. Ne're may he liue to see a Sun‑shine day,
Rich. That cries Retire, if Warwicke bid him stay.
Ed. Ed.
Ed. Lord Warwicke, on thy shoulder will I leane,
Ed. And when thou failst (as God forbid the houre)
Ed. Must Edward fall, which perill heauen forefend.
War. War.
War. No longer Earle of March, but Duke of Yorke:
War. The next degree, is Englands Royall Throne:
War. For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
War. In euery Burrough as we passe along,
War. And he that throwes not vp his cap for ioy,
War. Shall for the Fault make forfeit of his head.
War. King Edward, valiant Richard Mountague:
War. Stay we no longer, dreaming of Renowne,
War. But sound the Trumpets, and about our Taske.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Then Clifford, were thy heart as hard as Steele,
Rich. As thou hast shewne it flintie by thy deeds,
Rich. I come to pierce it, or to giue thee mine.