ACT II. SCENE I. A Plain near Mortimer's Crofs in Herefordshire. Drums. Enter EDWARD, and RICHARD, with their Forces, marching. * Edw. I wonder, how our princely father 'fcap'd; * Or whether he be 'fcap'd away, or no, * From Clifford's and Northumberland's purfuit; *Had he been ta'en, we fhould have heard the news; Had he been flain, we should have heard the news; * Or, had he fcap'd, methinks, we fhould have heard *The happy tidings of his good escape.- 2 RICH. I cannot joy, until I be refolv'd Where our right valiant father is become. Cicely had about her necke, hanging in a filke ribband, a pardon from Rome, which, penned in a very fine Roman hand, was as faire and fresh to be read, as it had been written yesterday." This pardon was probably a difpenfation which the Duke procured, from the oath of allegiance that he had fworn to Henry in St. Paul's church on the 10th of March, 1452. MALONE. 2 How fares my brother?] This scene, in the old quartos begins thus: "After this dangerous fight and hapless war, "How doth my noble brother Richard fare?" Had the author taken the trouble to revife his play, he hardly would have begun the first A&t and the fecond with almost the fame exclamation, expreffed in almost the fame words. Warwick opens the scene with "I wonder, how the king escap'd our hands." STEEVENS. I faw him in the battle range about; ' And watch'd him, how he fingled Clifford forth. 'Methought, he bore him3 in the thickest troop, As doth a lion in a herd of neat : * Or as a bear, encompafs'd round with dogs; * Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, * The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. *So far'd our father with his enemies; So fled his enemies my warlike father; Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his fon.4 See, how the morning opes her golden gates, And takes her farewell of the glorious fun !5 *How well resembles it the prime of youth, * Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love! EDW. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I fee three funs?6. RICH. Three glorious funs, each one a perfect fun; 3 Methought, he bore him-] i. e. he demeaned himself. So, in Meafure for Measure: "How I may formally in perfon bear me." MALONE. Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his fon.] The old quarto reads-pride, which is right, for ambition, i. e. We need not aim at any higher glory than this. WARBURTON. I believe prize is the right word. Richard's fenfe is, though we have miffed the prize for which we fought, we have yet an honour left that may content us. JOHNSON. Prize, if it be the true reading, I believe, here means privilege. So, in the former A&t: "It is war's prize to take all 'vantages?" MALONE. 5 And takes her farewell of the glorious fun!] Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the fun, when the difmiffes him to his diurnal courfe. JOHNSON. 6 do 1 fee three funs?] This circumflance is mentioned both by Hall and Holinfhed: " at which tyme the son (as fome write) appeared to the earle of March like three funnes, and fodainely joyned altogither in one, uppon whiche fight hee tooke fuch courage, that he fiercely fetting on his enemye's put them to flight; and for this caufe menne ymagined that he gave the fun in his full bryghtneffe for his badge or cognisance." These are the words of Holinfhed. MALONE. Not feparated with the racking clouds," See, fee! they join, embrace, and feem to kifs, Now are they but one lamp, one light, one fun.. * Edw. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. I think, it cites us, brother, to the field; That we, the fons of brave Plantagenet, 'Each one already blazing by our meeds,8 Should, notwithstanding, join our lights together, ' And over-fhine the earth, as this the world. 'Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear Upon my target three fair fhining funs. *RICH. Nay, bear three daughters;-by your leave I fpeak it, *You love the breeder better than the male. 7 the racking clouds,] i. e. the clouds in rapid, tumultuary motion. So, in The Raigne of King Edward III. 1596: like inconftant clouds "That, rack'd upon the carriage of the winds, Again, in our author's 32d Sonnet: "Anon permit the baseft clouds to ride MALONE. 8 blazing by our meeds,] Illuftrious and fhining by the armorial enfigns granted us as meeds of our great exploits. Meed likewife is Merit. It might be plaufibly read: blaxing by our deeds. JOHNSON. Johnson's first explanation of this paffage is not right. Meed here means merit. So, in the fourth A&t, the King says: And in Timon of Athens the word is used in the fame sense: No meed but he repays "Sevenfold above itself." M. MASON. VOL. XIV. E Enter a Meffenger. 'But what art thou, whofe heavy looks foretel EDW. O, fpeak no more!9 for I have heard too much.' 'RICH. Say how he died, for I will hear it all. "MESS. Environed he was with many foes;2 9 O, fpeak no more!] The generous tenderness of Edward, and favage fortitude of Richard, are well diftinguished by their different reception of their father's death. JOHNSON. -for I have heard too much.] So the folio. The quartos for I can hear no more. "Rich. Tell on thy tale," &c. STEEVENS. Environed he was with many foes ;] Thus, in the old play : "When as the noble duke of York was flain.- Rough Clifford flaine; who weeping tooke it up: "Then through his breft they thrust their bloudie fwords, *And stood against them as the hope of Troy 3 * Against the Greeks, that would have enter'd Troy. * But Hercules himself must yield to odds; * And many strokes, though with a little axe, *Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. 'By many hands your father was fubdu'd; 'But only flaughter'd by the ireful arm 'Of unrelenting Clifford, and the queen: 'Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite; 'Laugh'd in his face; and, when with grief he wept, 'The ruthless queen gave him, to dry his cheeks, 'A napkin steeped in the harmless blood 'Of fweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford flain: 'And, after many fcorns, many foul taunts, They took his head, and on the gates of York They fet the fame; and there it doth remain, 'The faddeft fpectacle that e'er I view'd. EDW. Sweet duke of York, our prop to lean upon; 'Now thou art gone, we have no ftaff, no ftay !* O Clifford, boift'rous Clifford, thou haft flain *The flower of Europe for his chivalry; * And treacherously haft thou vanquish'd him, *For, hand to hand, he would have vanquifh'd thee! Now my foul's palace is become a prifon : Ah, would fhe break from hence! that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in reft: 'For never henceforth fhall I joy again, 'Never, O never, fhall I fee more joy. "RICH. I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture 3 the hope of Troy-] Hector. MALONE. |