[♦] And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
[♦] And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air,
5 Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me:
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter YORK.
[♦] How now, my noble lord! what, all a-foot?
York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
10 But match to match I have encounter’d him