with the death of the Duke of Yorke
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Alarum.
Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard, Norfolke, Mountague,
Warwicke, and
Souldiers.
Warwicke. I Wonder how the King escap'd our hands?
Pl. While we pursu'd the Horsmen of y North,
He slyly stole away, and left his men:
Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,
Whose Warlike eares could neuer brooke retreat,
Chear'd vp the drouping Army, and himselfe.
Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all a-brest
Charg'd our maine Battailes Front: and breaking in,
Were by the Swords of common Souldiers slaine
Edw. Lord Staffords Father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either slaine or wounded dangerous.
I cleft his Beauer with a down-right blow:
That this is true (Father) behold his blood
Mount. And Brother, here's the Earle of Wiltshires blood,
Whom I encountred as the Battels ioyn'd
Rich. Speake thou for me, and tell them what I did
Plan. Richard hath best deseru'd of all my sonnes:
But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
Nor. Such hope haue all the line of Iohn of Gaunt
Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henries head