40 Som. Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breathed his last;
[♦] And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick
And said ‘Commend me to my valiant brother.’
And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
[♦] Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
[45] That mought not be distinguish’d; but at last
I well might hear, deliver’d with a groan,
‘O, farewell, Warwick!’
[♦] War. Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven. [Dies.