Therefore, no more but this:-Henry your sovereign,7 Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp❜d, His realm a slaughterhouse, 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. SCENE V. [Exeunt both Armies. Another Part of the same. Alarums: 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: For Somerset, off with his guilty head. Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak. Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words. Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune. [Exeunt OxF. and Soм. 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. The folio has-eye: but I imagine it was rather an error in the transcriber than an alteration by Shakspeare. The old play reads -eyes. Malone. • Henry, your sovereign, &c.] Instead of this and the following lines, the original play has these: "Henry your king is prisoner in the Tower; "And yonder stands the wolfe that makes all this, Malone. 8 — to Hammes' castle-] A castle in Picardy, where Oxford was confined for many years. Malone. • For Somerset,] Edmond Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, the second son of Edmond Duke of Somerset who was killed at the battle of Saint Albans. Malone. 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?1 Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?2 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. Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let Esop3 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 scoid. Prince. Nay, take away this scolding crook-back rather. K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.4 1 What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?] This is a proverbial observation, which I find versified in "A Preaty InterJude, called Nice Wanton" "Early sharpe that wyll be thorne, "Soone yll that wyll be naught," &c. Steevens. 2 And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?] This line was one of Shakspeare's additions to the original play. We have almost the same words in The Tempest: O, my heart bleeds, "To think of the teen [i. e. trouble] that I have turn'd you to." In the old play Prince Edward is not brought forth as here, but enters with his mother; and after Oxford and Somerset are carried off, he is thus addressed by the King: "Now, Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, "For stirring up my subjects to rebellion?" Malone. 3 Let Asop &c.] The Prince calls Richard, for his crookedness, Esop; and the poet, following nature, makes Richard highly incensed at the reproach. Johnson. 4 charm your tongue.] The quarto reads tame your tongue. The former is best. So, in Sir A. Gorges' translation of Lucan, 1614: Clar. Untutor❜d lad, thou art too malapert. Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George, 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.5 [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! [CLAR. stabs him. [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? "In hope that thy victorious arme "Their dunghill crowing so will charme." Steevens. This is the right reading. So, in Cynthia's Revels, Mercury says to Cupid: "How now, my dancing braggart! charm your tongue." And, in The Taming of the Shrew, Lucentio says: "But I will charm him first to keep his tongue." M. Mason. The expression which our author substituted, is one that he has often used. See p. 221, n. 8. The meaning is, I will compel you to be as silent, as you would be, if you were charm'd, if you were deprived of speech by the power of inchantment. Malone. 5 the likeness of this railer here. &c.] Thou that resemblest thy railing mother. Johnson. That is, thou who art the likeness, &c. Mr. Rowe and the other modern editors read-thou likeness, and so we should now write; but the other was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. So, in Julius Cæsar: "The last of all the Romans, fare thee well " In that passage, as in the present, Mr. Rowe substituted thou for the, though Shakspeare has employed the very words he found in North's translation of Plutarch. Malone. The old copies describe Edward as striking the first blow, and Gloster the next; and, I believe, rightly, for history informs us that Edward smote the Prince with his gauntlet, on which the rest despatch'd him. The words sprawl'st thou? seem evidently to belong to Richard; and I have therefore continued them to him' on the authority of ancient editions, in preference to the allotment of modern innovation. See edit. 1765, Vol. V, p. 217. Steevens 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 traitors! murderers!- And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. What 's worse than murderer, 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! How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd! with words?] i. e. dispute, contention. So, in a former of these plays: "Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me.” Steevens. 7 The Tower, the Tower!] The quarto adds—I'll root them out; but, perhaps, injudiciously: and yet, without these words the metre is imperfect. Steevens. 8 You have no children, butchers!] The same sentiment is repeated by Macduff, in the tragedy of Macbeth; and this passage may serve as a comment on that. Blackstone. The original play reads: "You have no children, devils; if you had, "The thought of them would then have stopt your rage." This thought occurring also (as Sir William Blackstone has observed) in Macbeth, [See Vol. VII, p. 206, n. 2,) may perhaps be urged as a proof of Shakspeare's being the author of the first draught, as well as of the alterations and additions to it. But how many thoughts and even expressions has he borrowed from preceding writers? Having (as I suppose) greatly enlarged, and almost new-written, this and the preceding play, the thoughts they contain, whether found in the first copy, or his amplification of it, were as likely to recur in a future piece, as any of those which he has employed in one originally written by himself. In his original plays he frequently borrowed from himself. Malone. 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. do it.1 Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it. Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself; 'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. What! wilt thou not! where is that devil's butcher, Hard-favour'd Richard?3 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? 9 — you have rid this sweet young prince.] The condition of this warlike Queen would move compassion, could it be forgotten that she gave York, to wipe his eyes in his captivity, a handkerchief stained with his young child's blood. Johnson. But surely it does move our compassion, though that be not forgotten. When we see any of our fellow-creatures involved in deep distress, from a just and tender cause we attend only to their present sufferings, and not to their former crimes. M. Mason. 1 do thou do it.] The old play reads-kill me too. Malone. 2'Twas sin before,] She alludes to the desertion of Clarence. Johnson. 3 - where is that devil's butcher, Hard-favour'd Richard?] Thus all the editions. But devil's butcher, in other terms, I think, is kill-devil: rare news for the free-thinkers, if there were any grounds for depending on it. But the poet certainly wrote-devil-butcher; and the first part of the compound is to be taken adjectively, meaning execrable, infernal, devilish. Theobald. Devil's butcher, is a butcher set on by the devil. Either reading may serve without so long a note. Johnson. The folio adds, at the end of this line, the word-Richard. But both the metre and the old play show that it was an accidental repetition by the transcriber, or compositor. Malone. |