Page 828 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit.

Enter Richard [running].

RICHARD

Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
Thy brother’s blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, [15]
Broached with the steely point of Clifford’s lance;
And in the very pangs of death he cried,
Like to a dismal clangour heard from far,
‘Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death!’
So, underneath the belly of their steeds [20]
That stained their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.

WARWICK

Then let the earth be drunken with our blood:
I’ll kill my horse because I will not fly.
Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, [25]
Wailing our losses whiles the foe doth rage,
And look upon, as if the tragedy
Were played in jest by counterfeiting actors?
Here on my knee I vow to God above
I’ll never pause again, never stand still, [30]
Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine
Or fortune given me measure of revenge.

EDWARD

O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine,
And in this vow do chain my soul to thine. -
And, ere my knee rise from the earth’s cold face, [35]
I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee,
Thou setter up and plucker down of kings,
Beseeching Thee, if with Thy will it stands
That to my foes this body must be prey,
Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope [40]
And give sweet passage to my sinful soul. -
Now, lords, take leave until we meet again
Where’er it be, in heaven or in earth.

RICHARD