Edward's feven fons, whereof thyself art one, Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb, What fhall I fay? to fafeguard thine own life, His deputy anointed in his fight, Hath caus'd his death: the which, if wrongfully, An angry arm against his minifter. Dutch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself? Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and defence, Dutch. Why then, I will: farewell, old Gaunt, That That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! Gaunt. Sifter, farewell; I muft to Coventry: Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: And what hear there for welcome, but my groans ? The laft leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt. 3 A caitiff recreant-] Caitiff originally fignified a prifoner ; next a flave, from the condition of prifoners; then a scoundrel, from the qualities of a flave. Ημισυλῆς ἀρετῆς αποαΐνεται δέλιον ήμαρ. In this paffage it partakes of all thefe fignifications. JOHNSON, SCENE SCENE III. The lifts, at Coventry. Enter the lord marshal and Aumerle. Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. Mar. The duke of Norfolk, fprightfully and bold, Stays but the fummons of the appellant's trumpet, Aum. Why, then the champions are prepar'd; and stay For nothing but his majesty's approach. [Flourish. The trumpets found, and the king enters with Gaunt, Busby, Bagot, and others: when they are fet, enter the duke of Norfolk in armour. K. Rich. Marfhal, demand of yonder champion Mar. In God's name and the king's, fay who thou art? [To Mowbray. And why thou com'ft, thus knightly clad in arms? Against what man thou com'ft, and what thy quarrel? Speak truly on thy knighthood, and thine oath; And fo defend thee heaven, and thy valour! 4 Mowb. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk; Who hither come engaged by my oath, (Which, heaven defend, a knight should violate!) Both to defend my loyalty and truth, Mowbray.] Mr. Edwards, in his MSS. notes, obferves, both from Matthew Paris and Holinfhead, that the duke of Hereford, appellant, entered the lifts firft; and this indeed must have been the regular method of the combat; for the natural order of things requires, that the accufer or challenger fhould be at the place of appointment first. STEEVENS. To To God, my king, and his fucceeding iffue 5, A traitor to my God, my king, and me: The trumpets found. Enter Bolingbroke, appellant, in armour. K. Rich. Marfhal, afk yonder knight in arms, Both who he is, and why he cometh hither, Thus plated in habiliments of war; And formally, according to our law, Depose him in the juftice of his cause. Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither, Before king Richard, in his royal lifts? [To Boling. Against whom comeft thou? and what's thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight; fo defend thee heaven! Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancafter, and Derby AmI; who ready here do ftand in arms, To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me; Mar. On pain of death, no perfon be fo bold, Boling. Lord marshal, let me kifs my fovereign's And bow my knee before his majefty: •his fucceeding iffue,] Such is the reading of the first folio; the later editions read my iffue. Mowbray's iffue was, by this accufation, in danger of an attainder, and therefore he might come, among other reafons, for their fake; but the old reading is more juft and grammatical. JOHNSON. For For Mowbray, and myfelf, are like two men Mar. The Appellant in all duty greets your highnefs, [To K. Rich. And craves to kifs your hand, and take his leave. K. Rich. We will defcend and fold him in our arms. Coufin of Hereford, as thy caufe is right, So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, The daintieft laft, to make the end most sweet: Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head, Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; And furbish new the name of John of Gaunt Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee profperous! Be fwift like lightning in the execution; Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: Rouze up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. Boling. Mine innocence, and Saint George to thrive ! Mowb. |