Another Part of the Field. |
| |
Alarums. Enter KING HENRY and Forces; EXETER, and Others. |
| K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen: |
| But all's not done; yet keep the French the field. |
| Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty. |
| K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour |
| I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting; |
| From helmet to the spur all blood he was. |
| Exe. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie, |
| Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,— |
| Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,— |
| The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies. |
| Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over, |
| Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd, |
| And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes |
| That bloodily did yawn upon his face; |
| And cries aloud, 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk! |
| My soul shall thine keep company to heaven; |
| Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast, |
| As in this glorious and well-foughten field, |
| We kept together in our chivalry!' |
| Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up: |
| He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand, |
| And with a feeble gripe says, 'Dear my lord, |
| Commend my service to my sovereign.' |
| So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck |
| He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips; |
| And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd |
| A testament of noble-ending love. |
| The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd |
| Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd; |
| But I had not so much of man in me, |
| And all my mother came into mine eyes |
| And gave me up to tears. |
| K. Hen. I blame you not; |
| For, hearing this, I must perforce compound |
| With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum. |
| But hark! what new alarum is this same? |
| The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men: |
| Then every soldier kill his prisoners! |
| Give the word through. [Exeunt. |
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