Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; ' And I am faint, and cannot fly their fury: And, were I strong, I would not shun their fury: The sands are number'd, that make up my life; 'Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTH- Come,bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland,— North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. And, in that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven, Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. 'Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? Clif. So cowards fight, when they can fly no further; 'So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. York. O, Clifford, but bethink thee once again, And, in thy thought o'errun my former time: * And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face; And bite thy tongue that slanders him with cowardice, 'Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this. Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word; But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. 3 Noontide point on the dial. [Draws. Q. Mar. Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes, I would prolong awhile the traitor's life: Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. North. Hold, Clifford; do not honour him so much, To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, When he might spurn him with his foot away? It is war's prize to take all vantages; And ten to one is no impeach of valour. [They lay hands on YORK, who struggles. Clif. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. North. So doth the coney struggle in the net. [YORK is taken prisoner. York. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; So true men 5 yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. North. What would your grace have done unto him now? Q. Mar. Brave warriors, Clifford, and Northum→ berland, Come make him stand upon this molehill here; • That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. * What! was it you that would be England's king? Was't you that revell❜d in our parliament, And made a preachment of your high descent? 4 Prize here must have the same meaning as prise in French, or présa in Italian, i. e. a hold or advantage that may be taken. Unless we can imagine that it signifies licitum est,' it is prized. or esteemed lawful in war,' &c. Price, prise, and prize were used indiscriminately by our ancestors. 5 Honest men. 6 Reached. Vide note on Part II. of this play, Act ii. Sc. 3. VOL. VI. CC The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? 6 I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, I should lament thy miserable state. I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York; Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails, That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? * Why art thou patient, man? thou should'st be mad; * And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport; York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.— A crown for York;-and, lords, bow low to him.— Hold his hands, whilst I do set it on.you [Putting a paper Crown on his HeadR. Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair; 7 Handkerchief. 8 According to Hall the paper crown was not placed on York's head till after he was dead; but Holinshed, after having copied Hall, says: Some write that the duke was taken alive, and in derision caused to stand upon a molehill, on whose heade they put a garland instead of a crown, which they had fashioned and made of segges or bulrushes, and having so crowned him with that garlande, they kneeled down afore him, as the Jews did to Christe, in scorne, saying to him, Hayle king without rule, hayle king without heritage, hayle duke and prince without people or possessions. And at length, having thus scorned hym with these and diverse other the like despitefull woordes, they strooke off his heade, which (as ye have heard) they presented to the queen.' And this is he was his adopted heir.- Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. Now in his life, against your holy oath? O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head; And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead 10. Clif. That is my office, for my father's sake. Q. Mar. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes. York. She wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, "Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! How ill beseeming is it in thy sex, To triumph like an Amazonian trull, Upon their woes, whom fortune captivates ? But that thy face is, visorlike, unchanging, I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush: Thy father bears the type11 of king of Naples, Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. That beggars, mounted, run their horse to death. 9 Impale, encircle with a crown. 10 Kill him. 11 i. e. the crown, the emblem or symbol of royalty. Thus in King Richard III. :— 'The high imperial type of this earth's glory. "Tis beauty, that doth oft make women proud; But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: "Tis virtue, that doth make them most admir'd; The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: 'Tis government 12, that makes them seem divine; The want thereof makes thee abominable: Thou art as opposite to every good, As the Antipodes are unto us, Or as the south to the septentrion 1 13 O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! How could'st thou drain the life-blood of the child, And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. Bidd'st thou me rage, why, now thou hast thy wish: 'Would'st have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: For raging wind blows up incessant showers. And, when the rage allays, the rain begins 14. These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies; 12 Government in the language of the time signified evenness of temper, and decency of manners. 13 The north. Thus Milton: 14 We meet with the same thought in Shakspeare's Rape of Lucrece : This windy tempest, till it blow up rain, 'Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more : Then son and father weep with equal strife, Who should weep most for daughter or for wife.' And in Macbeth : : that tears shall drown the wind.' Again, in Troilus and Cressida : Where are my tears? rain, rain to lay this wind.' And in King John: This shower blown up by tempest of the soul.' |