'K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs. * Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt, *Will issue out again, and bid us battle: If not, the city being but of small defence, "We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same. War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help. Enter Montague, with drum and colours. Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster! [He and his forces enter the city. 'Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear. *My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest. Enter Somerset, with drum and colours. [He and his forces enter the city. Enter Clarence, with drum and colours. War. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps Of force enough to bid his brother battle; Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this [Taking the red rose out of his cap. "Look here, I throw my infamy at thee: I will not ruinate my father's house, Who gave his blood to limel the stones together, And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick, That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt,2 unnatural, Against his brother, and his lawful king? * Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath: To plague thee for thy foul misleading me. Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate. K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads Lords, to the field; Saint George, and victory! SCENE II-A field of battle near Barnet.— * *K. Edw. So, lie thou there: die thou, and *For Warwick was a bug,4 that fear'd5 us all.- And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick? * My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart That I must yield my body to the earth, *Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun, *Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as *We might recover all our loss again! *If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd And to the latest gasp, cried out for Warwick, Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last, like. Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,- War. [Exeunt, bearing off Warwick's body (3) Eminent, egregious. (4) Bugbear. SCENE III.—Another part of the field. Flou-||* That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers, rish. Enter King Edward in triumph; with More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and Clarence, Gloster, and the rest. rocks. • K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course, And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory. But, in the midst of this bright-shining day, 'I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud, 'That will encounter with our glorious sun, 'Ere he attain his easeful western bed: I mean, my lords, those powers, that the queen Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast, And, as we hear, march on to fight with us. *Cla. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud, * And blow it to the source from whence it came : *Thy very beams will dry those vapours up; *For every cloud engenders not a storm. * Glo. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong, ⚫ And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her; 'If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd, Her faction will be full as strong as ours. K. Edw. We are advertis'd by our loving friends, That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury; '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. SCENE IV-Plains near Tewksbury. March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, Somerset, Oxford, and Soldiers. *Q. Mar. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, *But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. What though the mast be now blown over-board, The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood? "Yet lives our pilot still: Is't meet, that he 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? * 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, (2) Unsay, deny. (1) Know. *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. O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather Doth live again in thee; Long may'st 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. 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 2 for every word I speak, reign, Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd, [Exeunt both armies. SCENE V-Another part of the same. Alar ums: 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' castle3 straight: (3) A castle in Picardy. For Somerset, off with his guilty head. *K. Edw. Is proclamation made,-that, who' *Shall have a high reward, and he his life? *K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear| *What! can so young a thorn begin to prick? : And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. morse : But, if you ever chance to have a child, K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death: Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself; coat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let Esop1 fable in a winter's night; 'K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm2 your tongue. Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert. * Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy *Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury. Q. Mar. O, kill me too! [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 ?3 'K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means 'Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy 'Canst thou not speak?--O traitors! murderers!-| (1) The prince calls Richard, for his crookedness, Æsop. (2) i. e. I will compel you to be as silent as if you were deprived of speech by enchantment. What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher, Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou? 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! [Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone? 'Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower. K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head. Now march we hence: discharge the common sort Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your book K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: My lord, I should 'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better: confer. With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush, (3) Dispute, contention. (4) She alludes to the desertion of Clarence. (5) Careless. (6) To misdoubt is to suspect danger, to fear. Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught and|| kill'd. 'Glo. Why, what a peevish1 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! My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, Than can my ears that tragic history. * But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life? 'Glo. Think'st thou I am an executioner? K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art; If murdering innocents be executing, Why, then thou art an executioner. Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first thou didst presume, Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine. And thus I prophesy,-that many a thousand, "Which now mistrust no parcel2 of my fear; And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye,— Men for their sons, wives for their husbands' fate, And orphans for their parents' timeless death,'Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; 'The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees; The raven rook'd3 her on the chimney's top, . Glo. I'll hear no more ;-Die, prophet, in thy speech; Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter af ter this. O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies. Glo. What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted. See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right? And so I was; which plainly signifiedThat I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. • Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal throne, Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies. Montague, That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion, Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid; Work thou the way,-and thou shalt execute. [Aside. K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my lovely queen; And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both. Clar. The duty that I owe unto your majesty, I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks. 'Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit :say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his Το matter itself will defeat the artist. Of every author's works one will be the best, and one will be the worst. The colours are not equally pleasing, nor the attitudes equally graceful, in all the pictures of Titian or Reynolds. Dissimilitude of style and heterogeneousness of sentiment, may sufficiently show that a work does not really belong to the reputed author. But in these plays no such marks of spuriousness are found. The diction, the versification, and the figures, are Shakspeare's. These plays, considered without regard to characters and incidents, merely as narratives in verse, are more happily conceived, and more accurately finished, than those of King John, Richard II. or the tragic scenes of King Henry IV. and V. If we take these plays from Shakspeare, to whom shall they be given? What author of that age had the same easiness of expression and fluency of numbers? Of these three plays I think the second the best. The truth is, that they have not sufficient variety of action, for the incidents are too often of the same kind; yet many of the characters are well discriminated. King Henry, and his Queen, King Edward, the Duke of Gloucester, and the Earl of Warwick, are very strongly and distinctly painted. JOHNSON. |