Q. Mar.
Away my lord, you are slow, for shame away.

K. Henry.
Can we out-run the heav'ns? good Marg'ret stay.

Q. Mar.
What are you made of? you'll not fight nor fly:
Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
To give the enemy way, and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly. [Alarum afar off.
If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape,
(As well we may, if not through your neglect,)
We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopt. Enter Clifford.

Clif.
But that my heart's on future mischief set,
I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly;
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.
Away my lord, away. [Exeunt.

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