Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
War. And spight of spight, needs must I rest a‑while.
War. Enter Edward running.
Ed. Ed.
Ed. Smile gentle heauen, or strike vngentle death,
Ed. For this world frownes, and Edwards Sunne is clowded.
War. War.
War. How now my Lord, what happe? what hope of
War. good?
War. Enter Clarence.
Cla. Cla.
Cla. Our hap is losse, our hope but sad dispaire,
Cla. Our rankes are broke, and ruine followes vs.
Cla. What counsaile giue you? whether shall we flye?
Ed. Bootlesse is flight, they follow vs with Wings,
Ed. And weake we are, and cannot shun pursuite.
Ed. Enter Richard.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Ah Warwicke, why hast yu withdrawn thy selfe?
Rich. Thy Brothers blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,