Who, ring’d about with bold adversity,
15 Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
[♦] To beat assailing death from his weak legions:
[♦] And whiles the honourable captain there
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
[♦] And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
20 You, his false hopes, the trust of England’s honour,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
Let not your private discord keep away
[♦] The levied succours that should lend him aid,