صور الصفحة
النشر الإلكتروني

Edward's seven fons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches, springing from one root :
Some of those seven are dry'd by nature's course,
Some of those branches by the destinies cut;
But Thomas, my dear friend, my life, my Glofter,
One phial full of Edward's sacred blood,
One Hourishing branch of his most royal root,
Is crack’d, and all the precious liquor spilt ;
Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded,
By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe..
Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb.
That metal, that self-mould that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man; and though thou liv'st, and breath'st,
Yet art thou Nain in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair :
In suffering thus thy brother to be laughter'd,
Thou shew'st the naked path-way to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.
That, which in mean men we intitle patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
The best way is, to 'venge my Gloster's death.
Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel ; for heaven's sub-

Gaunt. Atitute,

in his fight,

His deputy anointed in his fight,
Hath caus’d his death : the which, if wrongfully,
Let God revenge ; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minister.

Dutch. Where then, alas ! may I complain myself?
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and des

Dutch. Why then, I will : farewell, old Gaunt,
Thou go'st to 'Coventry, there to behold
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's


That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
Or, if, misfortune miss the first career, . '
Be Mowbray's fins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
3 A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford !
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's wife
With her companion grief must end her life.

Gaunt. Sister, farewell ; I must to Coventry :
As much good stay with thee, as go with me!

Dutch. Yet one word more;--grief boundeth where i it falls, . Not with the empty hollowness, but weight : I take my leave before I have begun; For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. Commend me to my brother, Edmund York: Lo, this is all :-nay, yet depart not so ; Though this be all, do not to quickly go : I shall remember more. Bid him-oh, what? With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there see But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? And what hear there for welcome, but my groans ? Therefore commend me ;-let him not come there To seek out sorrow, that dwells every where : Defolate, desolate, will I hence, and die ; The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt.

3 A caitiff recreant-] Caitiff originally fignified a prisoner ; next a slave, from the condition of prisoners; then a scoundrel, from the qualities of a llave.

Η Ημισυ ής αρχής αποαίνυλαι δόλιον ήμαρ.. In this paffage it partakes of all these significations. JOHNSON,



The lists, 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, sprightfully and bold, Stays but the summons 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 round, and the king enters with Gaint,

Bushy, Bagot, and others : when they are fet, enter the duke of Norfolk in armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause of his arrival here in aris : Ask him his name; and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause. Mar. In God's name and the king's, say who thou art?

[To Mowbray. And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms ? Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel? Speak truly on thy knighthood, and thine oath; And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! 4 Mocob. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of

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, observes, both from Matthew Paris and Holinshead, that the duke of Hereford, appellant, entered the lifts first; and this indeed must have been the regular method of the combat ; for the natural order of things requires, that the accuser or challenger should be at the place of appointment first. STEEVENS.


To God, my king, and his succeeding issues,
Against the duke of Hereford, that appeals me;
And, by the grace of God, and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, iny king, and me:
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
The trumpets found. 'Enter Bolingbroke, appellant, in

K. Rich. Marshal, ask 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 justice of his cause.
Mar. What is thy name and wherefore com'st

thou hither, Before king Richard, in his royal lists ? (To Boling. Against whom comest thou ? and what's thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight; so defend thee heaven!

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby AmI; who ready here do stand in arms, To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, In lifts, on Thomas Mowbray duke of Norfolk, That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous, i To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me; And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists;. Except the marshal, and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's

hand, And bow my knee before his majesty:


h is fucceeding ifle,] Such is the reading of the first folio ; the later editions read my issue. Mowbray's issue was, by this accusation, in danger of an attainder, and therefore he "might come, among other reasons, for their fake ; but the old reading is more juft and grammatical. Johnson.


For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
Then let us take a ceremonious leave,
And loving farewell, of our several friends.
Mar. The Appellant in all duty greets your high-

[To K. Rich. And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave.

K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms.
Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

Boling. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear.
As confident, as is the Faulcon's fight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you
Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle
Not sick, although I have to do with death,
But lusty, young, and chearly drawing breath.
· Lo, as at English feasts, fo I regreet

The daintieft last, to make the end most sweet :
Oh thou! the earthly author of my blood, (To Gaunt.
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
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 with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,
And furbith new the name of John of Gaunt
Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.
Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee pro-

. fperous !
Be swift like lightning in the execution ;
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:
Rouze up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.
Boling. Mine innocence, and Saint George to thrive!


« السابقةمتابعة »