A thing devised by the enemy.-
Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge:
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe;
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let's to't pell-mell;
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.-
What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal ;-
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloy'd country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest;
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over-shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these over-weening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretagnes; whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters ?-Hark, I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
[Drum afar off:
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!2

Enter a Messenger.

What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.
K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head.
Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh;
After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
bosom:

Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—Another part of the field. Alar-
ums: Excursions. Enter Norfolk, and forces;
to him Catesby.

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death:
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter King Richard.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Cale. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse.

(1) Company.

*15

K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die:

I think, there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day, instead of him :-
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! [Exe.

Alarums. Enter King Richard and Richmond;
and exeunt fighting. Retreat, and flourish.
Then enter Richmond, Stanley, bearing the
crown, with divers other Lords, and forces.

Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious friends;

The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty,
Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou
acquit thee!

From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal;
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richm. Great God of heaven, say, Amen, to all :-
But, tell me first, is young George Stanley living?

Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town,
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
Richm. What men of name are slain on either
side?

Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and sir William Brandon.
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled,
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
That in submission will return to us;
We will unite the white rose with the red-
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!-
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
What traitor hears me, and says not,-Amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
All this divided York and Lancaster,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire;
O, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
Divided, in their dire division.—
The true succeeders of each royal house,
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be so,)
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase,
That would with treason wound this fair land's
peace!

Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again;
That she may long live here, God say-Amen.
[Exeunt.

This is one of the most celebrated of our author's happened to him as to others, to be praised most, performances; yet I know not whether it has not has scenes noble in themselves, and very well conwhen praise is not most deserved. That this play trived to strike in the exhibition, cannot be denied. But some parts are trifling, others shocking, and JOHNSON.

(2) Fright the skies with the shivers of your lances. Isome improbable.

VOL. II.

2 E

I COME no more to make you laugh; things SCENE I-London. An ante-chamber in the

I do know

Aber.
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sicken'd their estates, that never
They shall abound as formerly.

O, many

Made Britain, India: every man, that stood,
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubims, all gilt: the madams too,
Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting: now this mask
Was cry'd incomparable; and the ensuing night
Made it a fool, and beggar. The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them; him in eye,
Still him in praise; and, being present both,
'Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure.' When these suns
(For so they phrase them,) by their heralds chal-After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
leng'd,

Buck.
Have broke their backs with laying manors on them
For this great journey. What did this vanity
But minister communication of

The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous
story,

Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believ'd.

Buck.
O, you go far.
Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect
In honour honesty, the tract of every thing
Would by a good discourser lose some life,
Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal;
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd;
Order gave each thing view; the office did
Distinctly his full function.

Buck.

Who did guide,
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?
Nor. One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

ว

Buck.
I pray you, who, my lord?
Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion
Of the right reverend cardinal of York.
Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce' vanities? I wonder,
That such a keech can with his very bulk
Take up he rays o' the beneficial sun,
And keep it from the earth.

Surely, sir,

Nor.
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends:
For, being not propp'd by ancestry (whose grace
Chalks successors their way,) nor call'd upon
For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
To eminent assistants, but, spider-like,
Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way;
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the king.

Aber.
I cannot tell
What heaven hath given him, let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride

Peep through each part of him: Whence has he

that?

A most poor issue?

Nor.

Grievingly I think,

The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.
Buck.

Every man,

A thing inspir'd: and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy,―That this tempest
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on't.
Nor.
Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.

Aber.

The ambassador is silenc'd?

Nor.

Is it therefore

Marry, is't.

Aber. A proper title of a peace; and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate!
Buck.

Why, all this business

Our reverend cardinal carried."

Nor.

'Like it your grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you,
(And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety,) that you read
The cardinal's malice and his potency
Together: to consider further, that
What his high hatred would effect, wants not
A minister in his power: You know his nature,
That he's revengeful; and I know, his sword
Hath a sharp edge: it's long, and, it may be said,
It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that
rock,

That I advise your shunning.

Enter Cardinal Wolsey (the purse borne before
him,) certain of the guard, and two Secretaries
with papers.
The Cardinal in his passage
fixeth his eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham
on him, both full of disdain.

Wol. The duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination?

Wol. Is he in person ready?

1 Secr.
Ay, please your grace.
Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and
Buckingham

Shall lessen this big look. [Exe. Wolsey and train.
Buck. This butcher's cur1o is venom-mouth'd,

and I

Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore, best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
Out-worths a noble's blood.

Nor.
What, are you chaf'd?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only,
Which your disease requires.

Buck.

I read in his looks

Matter against me; and his eye revil'd
Me, as his abject object: at this instant

(8) Sets down in his letter without consulting the council.

(9) Conducted.

(10) Wolsey was the son of a butcher,