Puslapio vaizdai

Richard's Hypocrify.

(4) But then I figh, and with a piece of scripture,
Tell them, that God bids us do good for evil;
And thus I cloath my naked villainy

With old odd ends, ftol'n forth of holy writ,
And seem a faint, when moft I play the devil.

SCENE V. The Tower.

Clarence's Dream.

Clarence and Brakenbury.

Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you tell me.

Clar. Methought that I had broken from the Tower; And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy, And in my company, my brother Glo'fter

Who from my cabin tempted me to walk


Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England, And cited up a thousand heavy times,

During the wars of York and Lancaster,

That had befal'n us. As we pac'd along

Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Glo'fter ftumbled; and in falling
Struck me (that fought to stay him) over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

Lord, lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in my ears!
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes!
I thought, I faw a thousand fearful wrecks s;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon!
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Ineftimable ftones, unvalued jewels;

Some lay in dead mens skulls; and in those holes,

(4) See Merchant of Venice, p. 60, ¤, 5. and p. 54. preceding.


Where eyes
did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in fcorn of eyes, reflecting gems;
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Brak. Had you fuch leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon the fecrets of the deep?

Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghost: but ftill the envious flood
Kept in my foul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vaft, and wand'ring air?
But fmother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almoft burft to belch it in the fea.

Brak. Awak'd you not with this sad agony ?
Clar. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life.
O then began the tempeft to my foul:

I paft, methought, the melancholy flood,

With that grim ferry-man, which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

The first that there did greet my stranger foul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
Who cry'd aloud-What fcourge for perjury.
Can this dark monarchy afford falfe Clarence?
And fo he vanifh'd. Then came wand'ring by
A fhadow like an Angel with bright hair,
Dabbled in blood, and he fhriek'd out aloud-
Clarence is come, falfe fleeting perjur'd Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments !-
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
I, trembling wak'd ; and for a feafon after
Could not believe but that I was in hell:
Such terrible impreffion made my dream.


Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you; I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done thofe things That now give evidence against my foul,

For Edward's fake: and, fee, how he requites me!
O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,

Yet execute thy wrath on me alone;

O, fpare my gui!tlefs wife, and my poor children!


Sorrow breaks feasons and repofing hours, Makes night morning, and the noon-tide night.

Greatness, it's Cares.

(5) Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honour, for an inward toil;

And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of endless cares :
So that between their titles, and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

SCENE V. The Murtherers Account of Confcience..

I'll not meddle with; it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accufeth him; a man cannot fwear, but it checks him; a man cannot lye with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a bluing fhame-fac'd fpirit, that mutinies in a man's bofom; it fills one full of obftacles. It made me once reftore a purse of gold, that by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for a

(5) See pages 50, 51, &c. and the notes foregoing.


dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well, endeavours to truft to himself, and live without it.



Ah! that deceit fhould steal fuch gentle fhape, And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!

Submiffion to Heaven, our Duty.

(6) In common worldly things 'tis call'd ungrateful With dull unwillingness to pay a debt,

Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent

Much more to be thus oppofite to heav'n;

For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

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(7) O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
Lives like a drunken failor on a mast,

Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

(6) In, &c.] This is spoken by the marquis of Dorset to the queen, when bewailing the lofs of her husband Edward IV. (7) 0, &c.] This poffibly might have rifen from the following lines in the 118th Pfalm.

It is better to truft in the lord, than to put any confidence in man.

It is better to truft in the lord, than to put any confidence in princes, &c. See too the 20th Pfalm.



When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So fweet is zealous contemplation.

SCENE III. Defcription of the Murder of the two young Princes in the Tower.

The tyrannous and bloody act is done;
The most arch-deed of piteous massacre,
That ever yet this land was guilty of!
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthle's butchery,
Albeit they were flesht villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and mild compaffion,
Wept like two children, in their death's fad ftory.
O thus, (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle babes ;-
Thus, thus, (quoth Forrest,) girdling one another
Within their innocent alabafter arms;

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,

And in their fummer beauty kifs'd each other,
A book of prayer's on their pillow lay,

Which once, (quoth Forreft) almoft chang'd my


But, oh the Devil-there the villain, ftopt:
When Dighton thus told on--we fmothered
The most replenished fweet work of nature,
That from the prime creation e'er fhe framed
Hence both are gone with confcience and remorfe;
They could not speak, and fo I left them both,
To bear thofe tidings to the bloody king.




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