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Dabbled in blood, and he shriek'd out aloud
Clarence is come, false fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments !
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very

I, trembling, wak’d; and for a season after
Could not believe but that I was in hell:
Such terrible impression made my

dream. Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you : I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done those things That now give evidence against my soul, For Edward's fake : and, fee, how he requites me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appeale thee, But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, Yet execute thy wrath on me alone ; O, fpare my guiltless wife, and my poor children!

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Sorrow breaks seasons and repofing hours, Makes night morning, and the noon-tide night.

Greatness, its Cares.

(6) Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honour, for an inward toil; And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of endless cares; So that between their titles, and low name, There's nothing differs but the outward fame.


(6) See pages 60, 61, &c. and the notes foregoing.

SCENE V. The Murderers Account of Conscience.

I'll not meddle with it; it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward ; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but it checks hiin ; a man cannot lye with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-fac'd spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for dangerous thing; and every man that means

to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live with

out it.

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Duchess of York on the Misfortunes of her Family.

Accursed and unquiet wrangling days !
How many of you have mine eyes beheld ?
My husband lost his life to get the crown,
And often up and down my fons were toss’d,
For me to enjoy and weep their gain and loss.
And being seated, and domestic broils
Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors,
Make war upon themselves, blood against blood;
Self against self; O most preposterous
And frantic outrage! and thy damned spleen !
Or let me die to look on death no more.


Ah! that deceit should steal such gentle shape, And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!


Submission to Heaven, our Duty. (7) In common worldly things 'tis callid ungrateful With dull unwillingness to pay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Much more to be thus opposite to heav'n ; For it requires the royal debt it lent you.


The Vanity of Trust in Man.
(8) O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we inore hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

Scene VIII. Contemplation.
When holy and devout religious mer
Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous contemplation.

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Description of the Murder of the two young Princes

in the Tower. The tyrannous and bloody act. is done : The inost arch deed of piteous massacre,


(7) In, &c.] This is spoken by the marquis of Dorset to the queen, when bewailing the loss of her husband Edward IV.

(8) 0, &c.] This possibly might have from the following lines in the 118th psalm.

That ever yet this land was guilty of!
Dighton and Forreft, whom I did suborn
To do this piece of ruthless butchery.
Albeit they were flesht villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and mild compassion,
Wept like two children in their death's fad story.
O thus (quoth Digbton) lay the gentle babes;
Thus, thus, (quoth Forreft,) girdling one another
Within their innocent alabaster arms;
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other.'
A book of prayers on their pillow lay,
Which once, (quoth Forrest) almost chang'd my

mind :
But, oh! the devil--there the villain stopt:
When Dighton thus told on-we smothered
The most replenished sweet work of nature,
That from the prime creation e'er she framed-
Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse:
They could not speak, and so I left them both,
To bear these tidings to the bloody king.

Expedition. (9) Come, I have learn'd, that fearful commenting, Is leaden furvitor to dull delay : Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary. Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove's mercury, and herald for a king.


It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put any confidence in


It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put any confidence in princes, &c. See too the 20th psalm.

(9) Come, &c.] The favourite apophthegm of Alex ander was Mnder arobaihop.evos : nothing is to be delay'd ; and Cadry his great rival, in Lucan's Pharsalia says,

Tolle moras, semper nocuit differre paraii.
Hence dull delays, they harm the cause in hand.


Scene IV. Queen Margaret's Exprobation.

I call’d thee then poor shadow, painted queen, One heard on high, to be hurl'd down below: A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ; A dream of what thou wast; a garish flag, To be the aim of ev'ry dangerous shot ; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble; A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now, where be thy brothers? Where be thy children? wherein dost thou joy? Who sues and kneels, and says, God save the queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? Decline all this, and see what now thou art. For happy wife, a most distressed widow; For joyful mother, one that wails the name; For one being fu'd to, one that humbly fues ; For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care; For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me; For one being fear'd of all, (10) now fearing one; For one commanding all, obey'd of none. Thus hath the course of justice wheeld about, And left thee but a very prey to time; Having no more but thought of what thou wert, To torture thee the more, being what thou art.

SCENE V. His Mother's
His Mother's CharaEter

Character of King

Richard. Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious :

Thy (10) Now fearing one. ] It is very possible to understand and give sense to this, as it is now read; but I should apprehend the author wrote,

For one being fear'd of all, now fearing all: and this correction not only the next line, but the whole manner of the speech, as well as the superior clegance given to the pase fage, reen to confirm.

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