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And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.

Thou, Richard, shalt unto the duke of Norfolk, • And tell him privily of our intent.

You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: • In them I trust; for they are soldiers,

Witty 3 and courteous, liberal, full of spirit.• While you are thús employ'd, what resteth more, < But that I seek occasion how to rise; • And yet the king not privy to my drift,

of the house of Lancaster?

· Nor any

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Enter a Messenger 4 But, stay; What news? Why com’st thou in such

post? Mess. The queen, with all the northern earls and

lords, • Intend here to besiege you in your castle: • She is hard by with twenty thousand men; • And therefore fortify your hold, my

lord. * York. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou,

that we fear them!« Edward and Richard, you

shall stay with me;My brother Montague shall post 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 oaths.

3 Of sound judgment.

4 The folio reads · Enter Gabriel.' It was the name of the actor, probably Gabriel Singer, who played this insignificant part. The emendation is from the old play, and was made by Theobald.

5 I know not (says Johnson) whether the author intended any moral instruction, but he that reads this has a striking admonition against precipitancy, by which we often use unlawful means to do that which a little delay would put honestly in our power. Had York stayed but a few moments, he had saved bis cause from the stain of perjury.

* Mont. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: * And thus most humbly I do take my leave. (Exit. Enter Sir John and Sir Hugh MORTIMER.. York. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine

uncles ! • You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; The army of the

queen mean to besiege us. Sir John. She shall not need, we'll meet her in

the field. York. What, with five thousand men ? Rich. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. A woman's general; What should we fear?

[A March afar off. · Edw. I hear their drums; let's set our men in

order; * And issue forth, and bid them battle straight.

* York. Five men to twenty !--though the odds

be great,

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• I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
Many a battle have I won in France,
When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
Why should I not now have the like success?

[Alarum. Exeunt.

SCENE III, Plains near Sandal Castle.

Alarums: Excursions. Enter RUTLAND, and his

Tutor 1 * Rut. Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes !

Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers. Clif. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy

life.

I'A priest called Sir Robert Aspall. Hall, fo. 99.

As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father?,-he shall die.

Tut. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
Clif. Soldiers, away with him.

· Tut. Ah, Clifford! murder not this innocent child, « Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

[E.cit, forced off by Soldiers. Clif. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes ?—I'll open them.

Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch · That trembles under his devouring paws : : And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey ; * And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.

Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat’ning look. Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die;I am too mean a subject for thy wrath, Be thou reveng’d on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak’st, poor boy; 'my father's

blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should

enter.
Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again;
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and

thine,
Were not revenge sufficient for me;
No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves,
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.
The sight of any of the house of York

2 i. e. the father of which brat, namely the duke of York.

3 Steevens remarks that the epithet devouring, which might well have characterized the whole animal, is oddly enough bestowed on his paws.

Is as a fury to torment my soul;
• And till I root out their accursed line,
• And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore

[Lifting his hand. Rut. O, let me pray before I take my death:To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!

Clif. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. Rut. I never did thee harm: Why wilt thou

slay me? Clif. Thy father hath. Rut.

But 'twas ere I was born 4.
Thou hast one son, for his sake pity me;
Lest, in revenge thereof,-sith 5 God is just,
He be as miserably 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 slew my father; therefore, die.

[CLIFFORD stabs him. Rut. Dii faciant, laudis summa sit ista tuæ 6 !

Dies. Clif. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade, Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeald with this, do make me wipe off both.

[Exit. 4 Rutland was born in 1443; or at latest, according to Hall, in 1448, and Clifford's father was slain at the battle of St. Albans, in 1455. Consequently Rutland was then at least seven years old, more probably twelve.

6 This line is in Ovid's Epistle from Phillis to Demophoon. The same quotation is in Nash's Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1596.

5 Since.

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Alarum. Enter YORK. • York. The army of the queen hath got the field: My uncles both are slain in rescuing mel; . And all

my

followers to the eager foe • Turn back, and fly, like ships before the wind, • Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves. • My sons -God knows, what hath bechanced them: But this I know,--they bave demean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life, or death. - Three times did Richard make a lane to me; And thrice cried,—Courage, father ! fight it out! • And full as oft came Edward to my side, With purple falchion painted to the hilt • In blood of those that had encounter'd him: • And when the hardiest warriors did retire, • Richard cried,Charge! and give no foot of ground! . And cried, -A crown, or else a glorious tomb ! . A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre! With this we charg'd again : but, out, alas ! • We bodg’d? again; as I have seen a swan • With bootless labour swim against the tide, . And spend her strength with overmatching waves.

[A short Alarum within.

1 These were two bastard uncles by the mother's side, Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer. See Grafton's Chronicle, p. 649.

2 Bodged is probably the same as budged, from bouger, French. Steevens thought that it was the same as boggled, i. e. made bad, or bungling work of the attempt to rally. But the following passage, in which Coriolanus speaks of his army who had fled from their adversaries, seems decisive:

• The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge

From rascals worse than they.' Coles renders “ To budge, pedem referre,' to retreat, the sense required here.

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