Page 819 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Why, via! To London will we march
And once again bestride our foaming steeds
And once again cry ‘Charge!’ upon our foes,
But never once again turn back and fly. [185]

RICHARD

Ay now methinks I hear great Warwick speak:
Ne’er may he live to see a sunshine day
That cries ‘Retire!’, if Warwick bid him stay.

EDWARD

Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
And when thou fail’st - as God forbid the hour! - [190]
Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!

WARWICK

No longer Earl of March but Duke of York!
The next degree is England’s royal throne:
For king of England shalt thou be proclaimed
In every borough as we pass along; [195]
And he that throws not up his cap for joy
Shall, for the fault, make forfeit of his head.
King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
Stay we no longer dreaming of renown,
But sound the trumpets and about our task. [200]

RICHARD

Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.

EDWARD

Then strike up, drums! God and Saint George for us!

Enter a Messenger.

WARWICK

How now, what news? [205]

MESSENGER