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Henry VI part three

Act V, Scene 2

A field of battle near Barnet.
 
[Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD IV, bringing forth WARWICK wounded]
 
KING EDWARD IV
            ,            ,     ,              ,          ,
      So*, lie | thou there:| die thou,| and die | our fear,
           ,        ,       ,            ,         ,
      For War|wick was | a bug | that feared | us all.
           ,     ,          ,        ,          ,
      Now Mont|ague | sit fast,| I seek | for thee,
            ,           ,           ,           ,     ,
      That War|wick's bones | may keep | thine^comp|any.
 
[Exit]
 
WARWICK
       ,             ,      ,              ,         ,
      Ah, who | is nigh?| Come to | me, friend,| or foe,
            ,        ,        ,         ,          x
      And tell | me who | is vic|tor, York,| or Warwick?
           ,        ,        ,        ,      ,
      Why^ask | I that?| My mang|led bo|dy shows,
           ,          ,           ,       .   T    T     T
      My blood,| my want | of strength,| my sick heart shows.
           ,          ,         ,     ,         ,
      That I | must yield | my bo|dy to | the earth,
           ,        ,         ,         ,       ,
      And by | my fall,| the con|quest^to | my foe.
              ,          ,      ,        ,       ,
      Thus yields | the ced|ar to | the axe|'s edge,
              ,      ,    ,        2         ,        ,
      Whose^arms | gave shelt/er to the | princely | eagle,
       ,              ,           ,       ,      ,
      Under | whose^shade | the ramp|ing li|on slept,
             ,       ,    2      T      T     T          ,
      Whose^top | branch over|peered Jove's spread|ing tree,
       .    T   T     T           ,          x         ,
      And kept low shrubs | from wint|er's power|ful wind.
              ,      ,     2         ,             T      T     T
      These^eyes,| that now^are | dimmed with | death's black veil,  ??
             ,     ,   ,         2       T   T   T
      Have been | as pier/cing as the | mid-day sun,
            ,          ,        ,        ,         ,
      To search | the sec|ret treas|ons of | the world:
            ,        ,        ,             ,            ,
      The wrink|les in | my brows,| now* filled | with blood,
            ,        ,         ,      ,      ,
      Were lik|ened oft | to king|ly sep|ulchres:
       .   T    T     T        ,          ,          ,
      For who lived king,| but I | could dig | his grave?
           ,            ,           ,         ,          ,
      And who | durst^smile,| when War|wick bent | his brow?
            ,        ,        ,           ,          ,
      Lo*, now | my glo|ry smeared | in dust | and blood.
           ,          ,         ,        ,       ,
      My parks,| my walks,| my man|ors that | I had,
        2   ,         ,         ,        ,         ,
      Even now | forsake | me; and | of all | my lands,
           ,        ,         ,        ,         ,
      Is noth|ing left | me, but | my bo|dy's length.
       ,       2       T     T     T           ,           ,
      Why, what is | pomp, rule, reign,| but earth | and dust?
            ,        ,        ,         ,         ,
      And live | we how | we can,| yet die | we must.
 
[Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET]
 
SOMERSET
          ,         ,          ,      ,        ,
      Ah War|wick, War|wick, wert | thou as | we are,
           ,        ,      ,          ,       ,
      We might | recov|er all | our loss | again:
            ,             ,             ,          ,         x
      The queen | from France | hath brought | a puis|sant power.
        2   ,         ,           ,           ,            ,
      Even now | we heard | the news:| ah, couldst | thou fly.
 
WARWICK
             ,               ,   ,        ,     ,
      Why* then | I would / not fly.| Ah Mont|ague,
           ,         ,              ,         ,         ,
      If thou | be there,| sweet* broth|er, take | my hand,
            ,          ,          ,        ,       ,
      And with | thy lips | keep^in | my soul | awhile.
             ,         ,           ,        ,          ,
      Thou lovst | me not:| for, broth|er, if | thou didst,
            ,             ,           ,        ,        ,
      Thy tears | would wash | this cold | congeal|ed blood,
             ,          ,          ,         ,         ,
      That glues | my lips,| and will | not let | me speak.
              ,       ,     ,       ,        ,
      Come* quick|ly Mont|ague,| or I | am dead.
 
SOMERSET
          ,         ,     ,             ,            ,
      Ah War|wick, Mont|ague | hath breathed | his last,
       ,    2       ,         ,           ,         ,
      And to the | latest | gasp, cried^|out for | Warwick:
            ,         ,     ,   2      ,         ,
      And said,| commend | me to my | valiant | brother.
            ,         ,            ,          ,         ,
      And more | he would | have said,| and more | he spoke,
              ,        ,       ,       ,       ,
      Which sound|ed like | a can|non in | a vault,
             ,          ,       ,            ,         ,
      That might | not be | disting|uished: but | at last,
          ,            ,       ,         ,        ,
      I well | might hear,| deliv|ered with | a groan,
       T   T   T     ,
      Oh farewell | Warwick.
 
WARWICK
                                      ,          ,
                             Sweet* rest | his soul:
      ___    ___          ,           ,
      Fly | lords,| and save | yourselves,
      <-     ,          ,         ,          ,         ,          x
        For War||wick bids | you all,| farewell,| to meet | in heaven.
 
[Dies]
 
OXFORD
        ,      ,         ,           ,              x
      Away,| away,| to meet | the queen's | great^power.
 
[Here they bear away his body. Exeunt]

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