[♦] But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
[♦] Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
Away, for your relief! and we will live
To see their day and them our fortune give:
90 Away, my lord, away! [Exeunt.
bec SCENE III. Fields near St Alban’s.
Alarum. Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and Soldiers, with drum and colours.
[♦] York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
That winter lion, who in rage forgets
[♦] Aged contusions and all brush of time,