Page images
PDF
EPUB

York. Ay, with my fword. What! this that we fear them?

Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me My brother Montague shall poft to London. Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, Whom we have left Protectors of the King, With powerful policy strengthen themselves And trust not simple Henry nor his caths.

Mont. Brother, I go, I'll win them, fear And thus most humbly I do take my leave. [Exit

Enter Sir John Mortimer, and Sir Hugh M York. Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, m You are come to Sandal in a happy hour. The army of the Queen means to befiege us Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her York. What, with five thousand men ? Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for A woman's General; what should we fear?

[A Mar

Edw. I hear their drums: let's fet our me And ifssue forth and bid them battle strait. York. Five men to twenty! though the odd I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.

1

Now these five characteristicks answer to Lord Say's defer in the preceding play.

Kent, in the commentaries Cafar writ,

Is term'd the civil'st place in all this ifle;

The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy.

[blocks in formation]

,

Clif. Thy father hath.
Rut. But 'twas, ere I was born.
Thou hast one fon, for his fake pity me;
Left, in revenge thereof, (fith God is juft)
He be as miferably slain as I.

Ah, let me live in prison all my days,
And when I give occasion of offence,
Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause
Clif. No cause !

Thy father flew my father, therefore die.
[Clif.

Rut. Dii faciant, laudis fumma fit ista tuæ! Clif. Plantagenet, I come, Plantagenet! And this thy son's blood cleaving to my bla Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off b

Alarum. Enter Richard Duke of Yo

York. The army of the Queen hath got th My uncles both are slain in rescuing me, And all my followers to the eager foe Turn back, and fly like ships before the w Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-ftarved wolves My fons, God knows, what hath bechancec But this I know, they have demean'd them Like men born to renown, by life or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me

(6) Dii faciant, laudis, &c.] This is the 66th verse epiftle to Demophoon, in Ovid. It is a fignal instance, the author knew perfectly well how to apply his Latin

And thrice cry'd, courage, father! fight it out:
And full as oft came Edward to my fide,
With purple falchion painted to the hilt
In blood of those, that had encounter'd him:
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cry'd, charge! and give no foot of ground;
And cry'd, a crown, or else a glorious tomb,
A scepter or an earthly sepulcher.
With this we charg'd again; but out! alas,
We bodg'd again; as I have seen a fwan
With bootless labour swim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.

[A short alarum within.

Ah! hark, the fatal followers do purfue,

And I am faint and cannot fly their fury,

And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.
The fands are number'd, that make up my life;

Here must I stay, and here my life must end.

Enter the Queen, Clifford, Northumberland, the Prince

of Wales, and Soldiers.

Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.

North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
Clif. Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm
With downright payment shew'd unto my father.
Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car,
And made an evening at the noon-tide prick.

York. My ashes, as the Phoenix, may bring forth
A bird that will revenge upon you all:
And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heav'n,
Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
Why come you not? what! multitudes and fear?
Clif. So cowards fight, when they can fly no farther;
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
So defp'rate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.

York. Oh Clifford, but bethink thee once again, And in thy thought o'er-run my former time;

What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
When he might spurn him with his foot awa
It is war's prize to take all vantages;
And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
Clif. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock wit
North. So doth the coney struggle in the n
[In the struggle York is take
York. So triumph thieves upon their conque
So true men yield, with robbers so o'er-mato
North. What would your Grace havedone unto
Queen. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northu
Come make him stand upon this mole-hill he
That raught at mountains with out-ftretched
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.

(7) And buckler with thee blows twice two for one.] reading of all the impressions, from the first fotio downv to buckler, is to defend; which certainly is not Cliffor here: And in that sense we have the word afterwards Play;

Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler falfhood with a pedigree?

Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated the old quarto,
observ'd the reading is there, as I have restor'd it to the
i. e. cope, struggle with. So before, in I Henry VI.
In fingle combat thou shalt buckle with-me.

And again;

-All our general force

Might, with a fally of the very town,
Be buckled with.

And again;

And hell too ftrong for me to buckle with.

« PreviousContinue »