The cable broke, the holding-anchor loft,
And half our failors fwallow'd in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot ftill. Is't meet, that he
Should leave the helm, and like a fearful lad,
With tear-ful eyes add water to the fea;

And give more ftrength to that which hath too much♪
While in his moan the fhip fplits on the rock,
Which industry and courage might have fav'd?
Ah, what a fhame! ah, what a fault were this!
Say, Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Montague our top-maft; what of him?
Our flaughter'd friends, the tackle; what of these?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor ?
And Somerset another goodly mast?

The friends of France our throuds and tackling ftill 7.
And though unfkilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge ?
We will not from the helm to fit and weep,

But keep our courfe (though the rough wind fay, no)
From fhelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack:
As good to chide the waves, as fpeak them fair.
And what is Edward, but a ruthless fea?
What Clarence, but a quick-fand of deceit ?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these, the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can fwim; alas, 'tis but a while;
Tread on the fand; why, there you quickly fink:
Beftride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you familh, that's a three-fold death.
This fpeak I, Lords, to let you understand,
In cafe fome one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthlefs waves, with fands, and rocks.
Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
"Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.

Prince. Methinks a woman of this valiant fpirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breaft with magnanimity,

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
I speak not this, as doubting any here:

For

For did I but fufpect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes;
Left, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any fuch be here, (as, God forbid !)
Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and children of fo high a courage!
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual fhame.
Oh, brave young Prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee; long may'ft thou live,
To bear his image, and renew his glories!

Som. And he, that will not fight for fuch a hope,
Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arife, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Queen. Thanks, gentle Somerfet; fweet Oxford, thanks.
Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else.
Enter a Messenger.

Me. Prepare you, Lords, for Edward is at hand, Ready to fight; therefore be refolute.

Oxf. I thought no lefs; it is his policy,

To hafte thus faft to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd; we are in readiness.

Queen. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness. Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not budge. March. Enter King Edward, Glocefter, Clarence, and Soldiers.

K. Ed. Brave followers, yonder ftands the thorny wood, Which by the heaven's affiftance and your strength, Muft 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 fignal to the fight, and to it, Lords.

Queen. Lords,Knights, and Gentlemen, what I shouldsay,

My tears gain-fay; for every word I speak,

Ye fee, I drink the water of my eye:

Therefore no more but this; Henry, your Sovereign,
Is prifoner to the foe, his ftate ufurp'd,

His realm a flaughter-houfe, his fubjects flain,,

His ftatutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent :
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil.
You fight in juftice: then in God's name, Lords,
Be valiant, and give fignal to the battle.

Alarm. Retreat. Excurfions. Both parties go out. Re-enter King Edward, Glocefter, Clarence, &c. The Queen, Oxford, and Somerset, Prisoners.

K. Edr. Now here's a period of tumultuous broils. Away with Oxford to Hammes-caftle ftraight: For Somerfet, off with his guilty head.

Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them fpeak. Oxf. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words. Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt. Queen. So part we fadly in this troublous world, To meet with joy in sweet Jerufalem.

K. Ed. 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 the Prince of Wales.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak. What? can fo young a thorn begin to prick? Edward, what fatisfaction canft thou make, For bearing arms, for ftirring up my fubjects, And all the trouble thou haft turn'd me to ?

Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York. Suppofe, that I am now my father's mouth; Refign thy chair; and where I ftand, kneel thou, Whilft I propofe the self-fame words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to. Queen. Ah! that thy father had been fo refolv'd! Glo. That thou might ftill have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have ftol'n the breech from Lancaster.

Prince. Let op fable in a winter's night, His currifh riddles fort not with this place. Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague ye for that word. Queen. Ay, thou waft born to be a plague to men.. Glo. For God's fake, take away this captive fcold. Prince. Nay, take away this fcolding crook-back rather..

K. Edu

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're undutiful: Lafcivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George, And thou mif-fhapen Dick, I tell ye all, I am your better, traitors as ye are : And thou ufurp'ft my father's right and mine. Glo. Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.

K. Edw. And take thou that, to

Cla. And there's for twitting me

[Stabs him.

end thy agony.

[Edw. ftabs him.

with perjury.

[Clar. Aabs him.

[Offers to kill her.

Queen. Oh, kill me too! Glo. Marry, and fhall.K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done too much. Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with words? K.E.What? doth she swoon? use means for her recov❜ry. Glo. Clarence, excufe me to the King my brother: I'll hence to London on a serious matter.

Ere ye come there, be fure to hear fome news.

Cla. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, man, the Tower!-I'll root 'em out.

[Exit. Queen. Oh Ned, fweet Ned! fpeak to thy mother, boy. Canit thou not speak? O traitors, murderers! They, that ftabb'd Cæfar, fhed no blood at all; Did not offend, and were not worthy blame, If this foul deed were by, to equal it. He was a man; this (in refpe&t) a child; And men ne'er fpend their fury on a child. What's worse than murderer, that I may name it? No, no, my heart will burft, and if I speak And I will fpeak, that fo my heart may Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals, How fweet a plant have you untimely cropt! You have no children, butchers; if you had,

burft.

The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorfe ; But if you ever chance to have a child,

Look, in his youth to have him fo cut off;

As, deathfmen! you have rid this sweet young Prince.

K. Edw.

K. Edru. Away with her, go bear her hence by force.
Queen. Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here:
Here fheath thy fword, I'll pardon thee my death:
What? wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.
Clar. By heav'n, I will not do thee fo much eafe.
Queen. Good Clarence, do; fweet Clarence, do thou do it.
Clar. Didft thou not hear me fwear, I would not do it?
Queen. Ay, but thou useft to forfwear thy felf:
'Twas fin before, but now 'tis charity.

What, wilt thou not ? where is that devil-butcher, (24)
Richard? hard-favour'd Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed.
Petitioner for blood thou ne'er put'ft back.

K. Edw. Away, I fay; I charge ye, bear her hence. Queen. So come to you and yours, as to this Prince ! [Exit Queen

K. Edw. Where's Richard gone ?

Clar. To London all in poft; and, as I guess, To make a bloody fupper in the Tower.

K. Edw. He's fudden, if a thing comes in his head. Now march we hence, discharge the common fort With pay and thanks, and let's away to London; And fee our gentle Queen how well the fares; By this, I hope, she hath a fon for me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Tower of London.

Enter King Henry, and Glocefter, with the Lieutenant on the Tower Walls.

Glo. G
GOOD

OOD day, my Lord; what! at your book fo hard? K. Henry. Ay, my good Lord; my Lord, I fhould fay rather ;

'Tis fin to flatter, good was little better: Good Glofter, and good devil, were alike,

(24) Where is that devil's butcher,

Richard?] Thus all the editions. But devil's butcher, in other terms, I think, is kill-devil: rare news for the freethinkers, 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, devilib.

And