And more he would have said; and more he spoke,
Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,44
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;48
For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.[Dies.]
Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power.
Scene Three
[Another Part of the Field]
Flourish. Enter King Edward, in triumph: with Richard, Clarence, and the rest.
K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
But in the midst of this bright-shining day,
I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,4
That will encounter with our glorious sun,
Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
Hath rais'd in Gallia have arriv'd our coast,8
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud,
And blow it to the source from whence it came:
Thy very beams will dry those vapours up,12
For every cloud engenders not a storm.
Rich. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong,
50 S. d.; cf. n.
8 arriv'd: landed at
