Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
With tearful eyes add water to the sea,

And give more strength to that which hath too much,
Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say, Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Montague our top mast; what of him?
Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; what of these?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor ?
And Somerset another goodly mast?

The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm, to sit and weep;

But keep our course, though the rough wind say,-no,
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.
As good to chide the waves, as speak them fair.
And what is Edward, but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence, but a quicksand of deceit ?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while:
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink :
Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish, that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.
Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
"Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.
Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity,

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this, as doubting any here e;
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as God forbid !
Let him depart, before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage!

And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.---
Oh, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee; Long mayst thou live,
To bear his image, and renew his glories!

Som. And he, that will not fight for such a hope,
Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,

If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Q.Mar. Thanks,gentle Somerset ;-sweet Oxford,thanks. Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else. Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand, Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less it is his policy,

To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness.

Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness. Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not budge. March. Enter, at a distance, King EDWARD, Clarence, GLOSTER, and Forces.

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood, Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your strength, Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.

I need not add more fuel to your fire,

For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out :
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,

You see, I drink the water of mine eyes.

Therefore, no more but this :-Henry, your sovereign,
Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurp'd,

His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent ;
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,

Be valiant, and give signal to the fight. [Ex. both Armies.
SCENE V.

Another Part of the same. Alarum: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat. Then Enter King EDWARD, ClaRENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, Prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils. Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight: For Somerset, off with his guilty head

Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.
Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt OxF. and Sox. guarded. Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world, To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.

K. Edw. Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward Shall have a high reward, and he his life?

Glo. It is; and, lo, where youthful Edward comes.
Enter Soldiers, with Prince EDWARD.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak:
What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make,
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?

Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York! Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to. Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.

Prince. Let Æsop fable in a winter's night;"
His currish riddles sort not with this place.

Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word.
Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold.
Prin. Nay, take away this scolding crook-back rather.
K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.

Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful :
Lascivious Edward,-and thou perjur'd George,-
And thou mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all,

I am your better, traitors as ye are ;—

And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.

K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer here."

[Stabs him. Glo. Sprawl'st thou ? take that, to end thy agony.

[GLO. stabs him.

Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury.

[CLAR. stabs him.

[5] The Prince calls Richard, for his crookedness, Esop; and the poet, following nature, makes Richard highly incensed at the reproach. JOHNSON. [6] Thou that resemblest thy railing mother. JOHNSON

Q. Mar. Oh, kill me too!
Glo. Marry, and shall.
[Offers to kill her.
K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done too much.
Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with words?
K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for her

recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother; I'll hence to London on a serious matter:

Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news,

Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!

[Exit.

Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!

Canst thou not speak!-O traitors! murderers !—

They, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equal it.

He was a man; this, in respect, a child;
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.

What's worse than murderer, that I may name it?
No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak :-
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,

The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse :
But, if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off,
As, deathsmen! you have rid this sweet young prince !"
K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here;
Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death:
What! wilt thou not ?—then, Clarence, do it thou.
Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou
do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it? Q Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself; 'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.

What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher,
Hard favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?

[7] The condition of this warlike queen would move compassion, could it be for gotten that she gave York, to wipe his eyes in his captivity, a handkerchief stained with his young child's blood. JOHNSON.--But surely it does move our compas sion, though that be not forgotten. When we see any of our fellow-creatures in volved in deep distress, from a just and tender cause, we attend only to their present sufferings, and not to their former crimes. M. MASON.

Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed;
Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.

K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.
Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to this prince! [Ex.
K. Edw. Where's Richard gone?

Cla. To London, all in post; and, as I
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

guess,

K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence: discharge the common sort
With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And see our gentle queen how well she fares;
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.

SCENE VI.

[Exeunt.

London. A Room in the Tower. King HENRY is discovered sitting with a book in his Hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your book so hard? K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: my lord, I should say rather; 'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better:

Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike,

And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord.
Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer.
[Exit Lieutenant.
K. Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf:
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.-
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?

Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind ;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

K. Hen. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush,
With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush :
And 1, the hapless male to one sweet bird,

Have now the fatal object in my eye,

Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.
Glo. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete,
That taught his son the office of a fowl?

And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.
K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy
Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea,
Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!