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*YORK. Ay, with my fword. What! think'ft thou, that we fear them?

Edward and Richard, you fhall stay with me;— My brother Montague fhall poft to London : * Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the reft, * Whom we have left protectors of the king, *With powerful policy ftrengthen themselves, * And truft not fimple Henry, nor his oaths.

* MONT. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it

not:

* And thus most humbly I do take my leave. [Exit.

Enter Sir JOHN and Sir HUGH MORTIMER.

YORK. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles!

You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; army of the queen mean to besiege us.

The

SIR JOHN. She shall not need, we'll meet her in the field.

YORK. What, with five thousand men? RICH. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. A woman's general; What fhould we fear?

[A March afar off.

EDW. I hear their drums; let's fet our men in

order;

And iffue forth, and bid them battle straight.
"YORK. Five men to twenty !7-though the odds
be great,

"Five men to twenty! &c.] Thus, in the old play :
"York. Indeed many brave battles have I won

"In Normandy, whereas the enemy

"Hath been ten to one, and why should I now
"Doubt of the like fuccefs. I am refolv'd.

"Come, let us go.

"Edw. Let us march away. I hear their drums."

MALONE

'I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
'Many a battle have I won in France,

'When as the enemy hath been ten to one; 'Why should I not now have the like fuccefs? [Alarum. Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Plains near Sandal Castle.

Alarums: Excurfions. Enter RUTLAND, and his Tutor.8

RUT. Ah, whither fhall I fly to 'fcape their hands 19

Ah, tutor! look, where bloody Clifford comes!

Enter CLIFFORD, and Soldiers.

CLIF. Chaplain, away! thy priesthood faves thy life.

As for the brat of this accurfed duke,

Whose father' flew my father, he shall die.
TUT. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
CLIF. Soldiers, away with him.

his Tulor.] A prieft called Sir Robert Afpall, Hall, Henry VI. fol. 99. RITSON.

9 Ah, whither &c.] This fcene in the old play opens with thefe lines:

"Tutor. Oh, fly my lord, let's leave the castle, "And fly to Wakefield ftraight." MALONE.

Whofe father -] i. e. the father of which brat, namely the Duke of York. MALONE.

7UT. Ah, Clifford ! murder not this innocent

child,

'Left thou be hated both of God and man.

[Exit, forced off by Soldiers. CLIF. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it

fear,

That makes him close his eyes ?2 I'll open them.
RUT. So looks the pent-up lion 3 o'er the wretch
That trembles under his devouring paws:4
And fo he walks, infulting o'er his prey;
'And fo he comes to rend his limbs afunder.-
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy fword,
And not with fuch a cruel threat'ning look.
Sweet Clifford, hear me fpeak before I die ;-
I am too mean a fubject for thy wrath,
Be thou reveng❜d on men, and let me live.

2

is he dead already? Or, is it fear,

That makes him clofe his eyes?] This circumftance is taken from Hall: "Whilft this battail was in fighting, a prieste called Sir Robbert Afpall, chappelaine and fchole-mafter to the yong erle of Rutlande, ii fonne to the above named duke of Yorke, fcarce of the age of xii yeres, a faire gentleman, and a maydenlike perfon, perceyving that flight was more fafe-gard than tarrying, bothe for hym and his mafter, fecretly conveyd therle out of the felde, by the lord Cliffordes bande, toward the towne; but or he could entre into a houfe, he was by the fayd Lord Clifford efpied, folowed, and taken, and by refon of his apparell, demaunded what he was. The yong gentleman difmayed, had not a word to speake, but kneled on his knees, imploring mercy, and defiring grace, both with holding up his handes, and making dolorous countenance, for his fpeache was gone for feare."

MALONE.

So looks the pent-up lion] That is, The lion that hath been long confined without food, and is let out to devour a man condemned. JOHNSON.

4-devouring paws:] Surely the epithet devouring, which might well have characterifed the whole animal, is oddly bestowed on his paws. STEEVENS.

1

CLIF. In vain thou speak'ft, poor boy; my fa

ther's blood

Hath ftopp'd the paffage where thy words should

enter.

RUT. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

CLIF. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine,

heart.

Were not revenge fufficient for me;
No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves,
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not flake mine ire, nor ease my
The fight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my foul;5
'And till I root out their accurfed line,
'And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore

[Lifting his Hand. RUT. O, let me pray before I take my death:To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me!

CLIF. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. RUT. I never did thee harm; Why wilt thou flay me?

CLIF. Thy father hath.

RUT.

But 'twas ere I was born"

The fight of any of the house of York

Is as a fury &c.] In Romeo and Juliet the fame idea is expreffed in humbler language: "A dog of the house of Montague moves me." STEEVENS.

But 'twas ere I was born.] Rutland is under a mistake. The battle of St. Albans, in which old Clifford was flain, happened in 1455; that of Wakefield in 1460. He appears to have been at this time about seventeen years old. RITSON. The author of the original play appears to have been as incorrect in his chronology as Shakspeare. Rutland was born, I believe, in 1443; according to Hall, in 1448; and Clifford's VOL. XIV.

Thou haft one fon, for his fake pity me;
Left, in revenge thereof,-fith God is juft,-
He be as miferably flain as I.

Ah, let me live in prifon all my days;
And when I give occafion of offence,

Then let me die, for now thou haft no caufe.

CLIF. No caufe?

Thy father flew my father; therefore, die. [CLIFFORD ftabs him. RUT. Dii faciant, laudis fumma fit ifta tuæ !8 [Dies.

CLIF. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! And this thy fon's blood cleaving to my blade, Shall ruft upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. [Exit.

father was killed at the battle of St. Albans, in 1455. Conse. quently Rutland was then at least seven years old; more proba bly twelve. The fame obfervation has been made by an anonymous writer. MALONE.

7 -fith-] i. e. fince. So, in The Merry Wives of Windfor:

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-fith you yourself know how easy it is to be fuch an offender." STEEVENS.

Dii faciant, &c.] This line is in Ovid's Epiftle from Phillis to Demophoon. I find the fame quotation in Have with you to Saffron Walden, or Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is up, &c. 1596:

STEEVENS.

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