with

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; More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and Clarence, Gloster, and the rest.

'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.

Clar. 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 advértis'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 saved? *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? 'We will not from the helm, to sit and weep; * 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,

(1) Know. (2) Unsay, deny.

*

rocks.

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. For, did I but suspect a fearful man, I speak not this, as doubting any here:

'He should have leave to go away betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
If any such be here, as God forbid!
And make him of like spirit to himself.
'Let him depart, before we need his help.

And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.-
Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage
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.

Enter a Messenger.

'Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand, 'Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

'Orf. I thought no less it is his policy,
'To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness.
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your for-
wardness.

Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not
budge.

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,
'Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Therefore, no more but this :-Henry, your sove-
reign,

'Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent ;
'And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
'Be valiant, and give signal to the fight,

[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' Castle' straight:"

(3) A castle in Picardy.

And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
What's worse than murder, that I may name it?
No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak:-
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.-
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!

For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
Orf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.
'Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my for-
tune. [Exeunt Oxf. and Som. guarded.
*Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world,*
To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
*K. Edw. Is proclamation made,-that, who
finds Edward,

*Shall have a high reward, and he his life?

* Glo. It is: and, lo, where youthful Edward comes. Enter Soldiers with Prince Edward.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak:

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick! 'Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, 'For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, * And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to? Prince. Speak like a subject,proud ambitious York? Suppose that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.

How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd! 'You have no children, butchers! if you had, 'The thought of them would have stirr'd up re

morse:

But, if you ever chance to have a child, Look in his youth to have him so cut off, 'As deathsmen! you have rid this sweet young prince!

K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.

Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch
me here;

Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death:
What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it thou.
Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence,
do thou do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would
not do it?

Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd!
Glo. That you might still have worn the petti-'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.

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;
His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word.
Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold.
Prince. Nay, take away this seolding crook-

back rather.

'K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm?

your tongue.

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.
Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful:

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.

Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,-Now march we hence: discharge the common sort

And thou misshapen Dick,-I tell ye all,

I am your better, traitors as ye are ;

And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.
K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer
here.

[Stabs him.
* Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy
agony.
[Glo. stabs him.

* Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury.

Q. Mar. O, kill me too!
Glo. Marry, and shall.
'K. Edw. Hold, Richard,
done too much.

[Clar. stabs him.

[Offers to kill her. hold, for we have

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with words?"

'K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means

for her recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother: 'I'll hence to London on a serious matter: 'Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news. Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!

[Exit.

'Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy
mother, boy!

'Canst thou not speak?-O raitors! murderers!-
They, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
*If this foul deed were by, to equal it.
'He was a man; this, in respect, a child;

(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.

With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And see our gentle queen how well she fares;
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.-London. A room in the Tower.
King Henry is discovered sitting with a book in
his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter
Gloster.

Glo. Good day, my lord? What, at your book

so hard?

And this word-love, which greybeards call divine Be resident in men like one another, And not in me; I am myself alone.Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light; But I will sort a pitchy day for thee: For I will buzz abroad such prophecies, boy,That Edward shall be fearful of his life; And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death. 'King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone; Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest; Counting myself but bad, till I be best.— 'I'll throw thy body in another room, And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. [Exit. SCENE VII-The same. A room in the palace. King Edward is discovered sitting on his throne; Queen Elizabeth with the infant prince, Clarence, Gloster, Hastings, and others, near him.

And hither have they sent it for her ransom. **
K. Edu. Away with her, and waft her hence to
France.

And now what rests, but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befit the pleasures of the court?-
Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell, sour annoy!
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. [Exeunt.

The three parts of King Henry VI. are suspected, by Mr. Theobald, of being suppositious, and are declared, by Dr. Warburton, to be certainly not Shakspeare's. Mr. Theobald's suspicion arises from some obsolete words; but the phraseology is like the rest of our author's style, and single words, of which however I do not observe more than two, can conclude little.

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 retives in verse, are more happily conceived, and gard to characters and incidents, merely as narramore 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 Shak speare, to whom shall they be given? What au thor of that age had the same easiness of expres sion and fluency of numbers?

Of these three plays I think the second the best. Dr. Warburton gives no reason, but I suppose The truth is, that they have not sufficient variety him to judge upon deeper principles and more of action, for the incidents are too often of the same comprehensive views, and to draw his opinion from kind; yet many of the characters are well dis the general effect and spirit of the composition, criminated. King Henry, and his Queen, King which he thinks inferior to the other historical plays. Edward, the Duke of Gloucester, and the Earl of From mere inferiority nothing can be inferred; Warwick, are very strongly and distinctly painted in the productions of wit there will be inequality. Sometimes judgment will err, and sometimes the

VOL. II.

2 A

JOHNSON.

SCENE 1-London. A street. Enter Gloster. By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,