Yor. Hold Warwick: seek thee out some other chace
For I my selfe must hunt this Deere to death
War. Then nobly Yorke, 'tis for a Crown thou fightst:
As I intend Clifford to thriue to day,
It greeues my soule to leaue thee vnassail'd.
Exit War.
Clif. What seest thou in me Yorke?
Why dost thou pause?
Yorke. With thy braue bearing should I be in loue,
But that thou art so fast mine enemie
Clif. Nor should thy prowesse want praise & esteeme,
But that 'tis shewne ignobly, and in Treason
Yorke. So let it helpe me now against thy sword,
As I in iustice, and true right expresse it