And we are graced with wreaths of victory.

But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,

I spy a black, suspicious, threatening cloud,

5 That will encounter with our glorious sun,

Ere he attain his easeful western bed:

I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen

Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast

And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

And blow it to the source from whence it came:

The very beams will dry those vapours up,

For every cloud engenders not a storm.

15 And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her:

If she have time to breathe, be well assured

Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

♦ That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury:

20 We, having now the best at Barnet field,

Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;

And, as we march, our strength will be augmented

In every county as we go along.

Strike up the drum; cry ‘Courage!’ and away. [Exeunt.