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THE 

PLAYS  AND  POEMS 

OF 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE, 

WITH  THE 

CORRECTIONS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

OF 

VARIOUS  COMMENTATORS: 

COMPREHENDING 

%  Hifc  of  tjjc  Poet, 

AND 

AN  ENLARGED  HISTORY  OF  THE  STAGE, 

I   '■- 

THE  LAf  E  -EDMOND  MALONE. 

WITtl  A  NEW  GLOSSARIJL  INDEX. 


TH2  <I>T2En2  TPAMMATETS   HN,  TON  KAAAMON 
AHOBPEXilN  EI2  NOTN.  Vet.  Auct.  apud  Suidam. 


VOL.  XVIII. 


LONDON: 

PRINTED  FOR  F.  C.  AND  J.  RIVINGTON  ;  T.  EGERTON ;  J.  CUTHELL;  SCATCHERD 
AND  LETTERMAN;  LONGMAN,  HURST,  REES,  ORME,  AND  BROWN;  CADELL 
AND  DAVIES  ;  LACKINGTON  AND  CO.;  J.  BOOKER;  CLACK  AND  CO.;  J.  BOOTH  ; 
J.  RICHARDSON;  J.  M.RICHARDSON;  J.  MURRAY;  J.HARDING;  R.H.EVANS; 
J.  MAWMAN;  R.  SCHOLEY;  T.  EARLE  ;  J.  BOHN  ;  C.BROWN;  GRAY  AND  SON; 
R.  PHENEY  ;  BALDWIN,  CRADOCK,  AND  JOY  ;  NEWMAN  AND  CO.;  OGLES,  DUN- 
CAN, AND  CO.  ;  T.  HAMILTON  ;  W.  WOOD  ;  J.  SHELDON;  E.  EDWARDS  ;  WHIT- 
MORE  AND  FENN;  W.  MASON;  G.  AND  W.  B.  WHITTAKER  ;  SIMPKIN  AND 
MARSHALL;  R.  SAUNDERS  :  J.  DEIGHTON  AND  SONS,  CAMBRIDGE  :  WILSON 
AND  SON,  YORK  :  AND  STIRLING  AND  SLADE,  FAIRBAIRN  AND  ANDERSON, 
AND  D.  BROWN,    EDINBURGH. 


1821. 


PR 

Ma 
nil 


r.  Baldwin,  Printer, 
New  Bridge- •treet,  London. 


HENRY  VI.  PART  I. 

HENRY  VI.  PART  II. 

HENRY  VI.  PART  III. 

MR.  MALONE'S  DISSERTATION. 


li^C 


KING    HENRY    VI 


PART  I. 


VOL.  XVIII. 


B 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


J.  HE  historical  transactions  contained  in  this  play,  take  in  the 
compass  of  above  thiry  years.  I  must  observe,  however,  that  our 
author,  in  the  three  parts  of  Heary  VI.  has  not  been  very  precise 
to  the  date  and  disposition  of  his  facts  ;  but  shuffled  them,  back- 
wards and  forwards,  out  of  time.  For  instance,  the  Lord  Talbot 
is  killed  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  Act  of  this  play,  who  in  reality 
did  not  fall  till  the  13th  of  July,  14.53:  and  the  Second  Part  of 
Henry  VI.  opens  with  the  marriage  of  the  king,  which  was  so- 
lemnized eight  years  before  Talbot's  death,  in  the  year  l-i^S. 
Again,  in  the  Second  Part,  dame  Eleanor  Cobham  is  introduced 
to  insult  Queen  Margaret ;  though  her  penance  and  banishment 
for  sorcery  happened  three  years  before  that  princess  came  over  to 
England.  I  could  point  out  many  other  transgressions  against 
history,  as  far  as  the  order  nf  time  is  concerned.  Indeed,  though 
there  are  several  master-strokes  in  these  three  plays,  which  in- 
contestably  betray  the  workmanship  of  Shakspeare  ;  yet  I  am 
almost  doubtful,  whether  they  were  entirely  of  his  writing.  And 
unless  they  were  wrote  by  him  very  early,  I  should  rather  imagine 
them  to  have  been  brought  to  him  as  a  director  of  the  stage ; 
and  so  have  received  some  finishing  beauties  at  his  hand.  An 
accurate  observer  will  easily  see,  the  diction  of  them  is  more  ob- 
solete, and  the  numbers  more  mean  and  prosaical,  than  in  the 
generality  of  his  genuine  compositions.     Theobald. 

Having  given  my  opinion  very  fully  relative  to  these  plays  at 
the  end  of  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  it  is  here  only 
necessary  to  apprise  the  reader  what  my  hypothesis  is,  that  he 
may  be  the  better  enabled,  as  he  proceeds,  to  judge  concerning 
its  probability.  Like  many  others,  I  was  long  struck  with  the 
many  evident  SJtnksperiatiisms  in  these  plays,  which  appeared  to 
me  to  carry  such  decisive  weight,  that  I  could  scarcely  bring  my- 
self to  examine  with  attention  any  of  the  arguments  that  have 
been  urged  against  his  being  the  author  of  them.  I  am  now 
surprised,  (and  my  readers  perhaps  may  say  the  same  thing  of 
themselves,)  that  1  should  never  have  adverted  to  a  very  striking 
circumstance  which  distinguishes  this  Jirst  part  from  the  other 
parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  This  circumstance  is,  that  none  of 
these  Shaksperian  passages  are  to  be  found  here,  though  several 
are  scattered  through  the  two  other  parts.  I  am  therefore  deci- 
sively of  opinion  that  this  play  was  not  written  by  Shakspeare. 
riie  reasons  on  which  that  opinion  is  founded,  are  stated  at  large 

B  2 


4,  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.    - 

in  the  Dissertation  above  referred  to.  But  I  would  here  request 
the  reader  to  attend  particularly  to  the  versification  of  this  piece, 
(of  which  almost  every  line  has  a  pause  at  the  end,)  which  is  so 
different  from  that  of  Shakspeare's  undoubted  plays,  and  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  two  succeeding  pieces  as  altered  by  him,  and 
so  exactly  corresponds  with  that  of  the  tragedies  written  by  others 
before  and  about  the  time  of  his  first  commencing  author,  that 
this  alone  might  decide  the  question,  without  taking  into  the  ac- 
count the  numerous  classical  allusions  which  are  found  in  this 
first  part.  The  reader  will  be  enabled  to  judge  how  far  this  argu- 
ment deserves  attention,  from  the  several  extracts  from  those  an- 
cient pieces  which  he  will  find  in  the  Essay  on  this  subject. 

With  respect  to  the  second  and  third  parts  of  King  Henry  VI. 
or,  as  they  were  originally  called.  The  Contention  of  the  Two 
famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  they  stand,  in  my  appre- 
hension, on  a  very  different  ground  from  that  of  this  first  part,  or, 
as  I  believe  it  was  anciently  called.  The  Play  of  King  Henry  VI. 
— The  Contention,  &c.  printed  in  two  parts,  in  quarto,  the 
first  part  in  ISS*,  and  the  second  in  1595,  was,  I  conceive, 
the  produrtion  of  some  playwright  who  preceded,  or  was  con- 
temporary with  Shakspeare ;  and  out  of  that  piece  he  formed 
the  two  plays  which  are  now  denominated  the  Second  smA  Third 
Parts  of  King  Henry  VI. ;  as,  out  of  the  old  plays  of  King 
John  and  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  he  formed  two  new  plays 
with  the  same  titles.  For  the  reasons  on  which  this  opinion  is 
formed,  I  must  again  refer  to  my  Essay  on  this  subject. 

This  old  play  of  King  Henry  VI.  now  before  us,  or  as  our  au- 
thor's editors  have  called  it,  the  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  I 
suppose,  to  have  been  written  in  1589,  or  before.  See  An  At- 
tempt to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare's  Plays,  vol.  ii.  The 
disposition  of  facts  in  these  three  plays,  not  always  corresponding 
with  the  dates,  which  Mr.  Theobald  mentions,  and  the  want  of 
uniformity  and  consistency  in  the  series  of  events  exhibited,  may 
perhaps  be  in  some  measure  accounted  for  by  the  hypothesis  now 
stated.  As  to  our  author's  having  accepted  these  pieces  as  a  Di- 
rector oi\\\e  stage,  he  had,  I  fear,  no  pretension  to  such  a  situa- 
tion at  so  early  a  period.     Malone. 

The  chief  argument  on  which  the  first  paragraph  of  the  foregoing 
note  depends,  is  not,  in  my  opinion,  conclusive.     This  historical 
play  might  have  been   one  of   our  author's  earliest  dramatick 
efforts  :  and  almost  every  young  poet  begins  his  career  by  imita- 
tion.    Shakspeare,  therefore,  till  he  felt  his  own  strength,    per- 
haps servilely  conformed  to  the  style  anddmanner  of  his  predeces- 
sors.    Thus,  the  captive  eaglet  describe   by  Rowe  : 
"  — —  a  while  endures  his  cage  and  chains, 
"  And  like  a  prisoner  with  the  clown  remains  : 
"  But  when  his  plumes  shoot  forth,  his  pinions  swell, 
"  He  quits  the  rustick  and  his  homely  cell. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  5 

"  Breaks  from  his  bonds,  and  in  the  face  of  day 
"  Full  in  the  sun's  bright  beams  he  soars  away." 
What  further  remarks  I  may  offer  on  this  subject,  will  appear 
in  the  form   of  notes  to  Mr.   Malone's  Essay,  from  which  I  do 
not  wantonly  differ, — though   hardily,    I   confess,    as  far  as  my 
sentiments  may  seem  to  militate  against  those  of  Dr.  Farmer. 

SxEEVENSt 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


King  Henry  the  Sixth. 

Duke  of  Gloster,  Uncle  to  the  King,  and  Protector. 

Duke  of  Bedford,  Uncle  to  the  King,  and  Regent  of  France. 

Thomas  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Exeter,  great  Uncle  to  the 
King. 

Henry  Beaufort,  great  Uncle  to  the  King,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, and  afterwards  Cardinal. 

John  Beaufort,  Earl  of  Somerset  ;  afterwards,  Duke. 

Richard  Plantagenet,  eldest  Son  of  Richard  late  Earl 
of  Cambridge  ;  afterwards  Duke  of  York. 

Earl  of  Warwick. 

Earl  of  Salisbury. 

Eakl  of  Suffolk. 

Lord  Talbot,  afterwards  Earl  of  Shrewsbury: 

John  Talbot,  his  Son. 

Edmund  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March. 

Mortimer's  Keeper,  and  a  Lawyer. 

Sir  John  Fastolfe. 

Sir  William  Lucy. 

Sir  William  Glansdale. 

Sir  Thomas  Gargrave. 

Mayor  of  London.     Woodville,  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 

Vernon,  of  the  White  Rose,  or  York  Faction. 

Basset,  of  the  Red  Rose,  or  Lancaster  Faction. 

Charles,  Dauphin,  and  afterwards  King  of  France. 

Reignier,  Duke  of  Anjou,  and  titular  King  of  Naples. 

Duke  of  Burgundy. 

Duke  of  ALEN90N. 

Governor  of  Paris, 

Bastard  of  Orleans. 

Master  Gunner  of  Orleans,  and  his  Son. 

General  of  the  French  Forces  in  Bourdeaux. 

A  French  Sergeant. 

A  Porter. 

An  old  Shepherd,  Father  to  Joan  la  Pucelle. 

Margaret,    Daughter  to  Reignier;    afterwards  married  to 

King  Henry. 
Countess  of  Auvergne. 
Joan  la  Pucelle,  commonly  called  Joan  of  Arc. 

Fiends  appearing  to  La  Pucelle,  Lords,  Warders  of  the 
Tower,  Heralds,  Officers,  Soldiers,  Messengers,  and  several 
Attendants  both  on  the  English  and  French. 

SCENE,  partly  in  England,  and  partly  in  France. 


FIRST  PART  OF 

KING    HENRY   VI. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 
Westminster  Abbey. 


Dead  march.  Corpse  of  King  Henry  the  Fifth 
discovered,  lying  in  state;  attended  on  by  the 
Dukes  of  Bedford,  Gloster,  and  Exeter  ;  the 
Earl  of  Wartvick^,  the  Bishop  of  IFinchester, 
Heralds,  S^^c. 

Bed.  Hung  be  the  heavens  with  black  ^  yield  day 
to  night ! 
Comets,  importing  change  of  times  and  states, 
Brandish  your  crystal  tresses  '^  in  the  sky  ; 

I  —  ea7-l  o/Warwick  ;]  The  Earl  of  JVanvick  who  makes 
his  appearance  in  the  first  scene  of  this  play  is  Richard  Beau- 
champ,  who  is  a  character  in  King  Henry  V.  The  Earl  who  ap- 
pears in  the  subsequent  part  of  it,  is  Richard  Nevil,  son  to  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  who  became  possessed  of  the  title  in  right  of 
his  wife,  Anne,  sister  of  Henry  Beauchamp^  Duke  of  Warwick, 
on  the  death  of  Anne  his  only  child  in  H'ig.  Richard,  the  father 
of  this  Henry,  was  appointed  governor  to  the  king,  on  the  demise 
of  Thomas  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  died  in  1439.  There 
is  no  reason  to  think  that  the  author  meant  to  confound  the  two 
characters.     Ritson. 

^  Hung  be  the  heavens  with  black,]  Alluding  to  our  ancient 
stage-practice  when  a  tragedy  was  to  be  expected.  So,  in  Sid- 
ney's Arcadia,  book  ii.  :  "There  arose,  even  with  the  sunne,  a 
vaile  of  darke  cloudes  before  his  face,  which  shortly  had  blacked 
over  all  the  face  of  heaven,  preparing  (as  it  were)  a  mournfull 
stage  for  a  tragedie  to  be  played  on."  See  also  Mr.  Malone's 
Historical  Account  of  the  English  Stage.     Steevens. 

3  Brandish  your  crystal  tresses — ]     Crystal  is  an  epithet  re- 


8  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

And  with  them  scourge  the  bad  revolting  stars. 
That  have  consented  ^  unto  Henry's  death  I 


peatedly  bestowed  on  comets  by  our  ancient  writers.     So,  in  a 
Sonnet,  by  Lord  Sterline,  1604? : 

"  When  as  those  chrystal  comets  whiles  appear." 
Spenser,  in  his  Faiiy  Queen,  book  i.  c.  x.  applies  it  to  a  lady's 
face : 

"  Like  sunny  beams  threw  from  her  chrystal  face." 
Again,  in  an  ancient  song  entitled  The  falling  out  of  Lovers  is 
the  renewing  of  Love  : 

"  You  chrystal  planets  shine  all  clear 
"  And  light  a  lover's  way." 
"  There  is  also  a  xvhite  comet  with  silver  haires,"  says  Pliny,  as 
translated  by  P.  Holland,  1601.     Steevens. 

4  That  have  consented — ]  If  this  expression  means  no 
more  than  that  the  stars  gave  a  bare  consent,  or  agreed  to  let 
King  Henry  die,  it  does  no  great  honour  to  its  author.  I  believe 
to  consent,  in  this  instance,  means  to  act  in  concert.  Conceiitus, 
Lat.  Thus  Erato  the  muse,  applauding  the  song  of  Apollo,  in 
Lyly's  Midas,  1592,  cries  out :  "  O  sweet  coH5f  Hi .'"  i.e.  sweet 
union  of  sounds.  Again,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b.  iv.  c.  ii. : 
"  Such  musick  his  wise  words  with  time  consented.'" 
Again,  in  his  translation  of  Virgil's  Culex  : 

"  Chaunted  their  sundry  notes  with  sweet  concent." 
Again,  in    Chapman's  version  of  the  24th  book  of  Homer's 
Odyssey : 

"  •         all  the  sacred  nine 
"  Of  deathless  muses,  paid  thee  dues  divine  : 
"  By  varied  turns  their  heavenly  voices  venting ; 
"  All  in  deep  passion  for  thy  death  consenting." 
Consented,    or   as  it  should  be  spelt,  concented,  means,  have 
throxvn  themselves  into  a  malignant  configuration,  to  promote  the 
death  of  Henry.     Spenser,  in  more  than  one  instance,   spells  this 
word  as  it  appears  in  the  text  of  Shakspeare,  as  does  Ben  Jonson, 
in  his  Epithalamion  on  Mr.  Weston.     The  following  lines, 

" shall  we  curse  the  planets  of  mishap, 

"  That  plotted  thufi,"  &c. 
seem   to    countenance    my  explanation ;    and    Falstaff  says    of 

Shallow's  servants,  that  " they  flock  together  in  consent,  like 

so  many  wild  geese."  See  also  Tully  de  Natura  Deorum,  lib.  ii. 
ch.  xlvi. :  "  Nolo  in  stellarum  ratione  multus  vobis  videri,  maxi- 
mique  earum  quae  errare  dicuntu''.  Quarum  tantus  est  concentus 
ex  dissimilibus  motibus,"  &c. 

Milton   uses  the  word,   and  with  the  same  meaning,  in  his, 
Penseroso : 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  9 

King  Henry  the  fifth  \  too  famous  to  live  long*' ! 
England  ne'er  lost  a  king  of  so  much  worth. 

Glo.  England  ne'er  had  a  king,  until  his  time. 
Virtue  he  had,  deserving  to  command  : 
His    brandish'd    sword    did    blind    men   with   his 

beams; 
His  arms  spread  wider  than  a  dragon's  wings  ^ ; 
His  sparkling  eyes  replete  with  wrathful  fire, 
More  dazzled  and  drove  back  his  enemies, 
Than  mid-day  sun,  fierce  bent  against  their  faces. 
What  should  1  say  ?  his  deeds  exceed  all  speech  : 

"  Whose  power  hath  a  true  consent 
"  With  planet,  or  with  element."     Steevens. 
Steevens  is  right  in  his  explanation  of  the  word  consented.     So, 
in   The   Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle,  the  Merchant   says   to 
Merrythought : 

"  ■  too  late,  I  well  perceive, 

"  Thou  art  consenting  to  my  daughter's  loss." 
and  in  The  Chances,  Antonio,  speaking  of  the  wench  who  robbed 
him,  says : 

"  And  also  the  fiddler  who  was  conse7iting  with  her." 
meaning  the  fiddler  that  was  her  accomplice. 

The   word  appears  to  be  used  in  the  same  sense  in  the  fifth 
scene  of  this  Act,  where  Talbot  says  to  his  troops  : 
"  You  all  consented  unto  Salisbury's  death, 
"  For  none  would  strike  a  stroke  in  his  revenge." 

M.  Mason. 
Consent,  in  all  the  books  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  and  long 
afterwards,  is  the  usual  spelling  of  the  word  concent.  See  vol.  xi. 
p.  92,  n.  3.  In  other  places  I  have  adopted  the  modern  and 
more  proper  spelling ;  but,  in  the  present  instance,  I  apprehend, 
the  word  was  used  in  its  ordinary  sense.  In  the  second  Act, 
Talbot,  reproaching  the  soldiery,  uses  the  same  expression, 
certainly  without  any  idea  of  a  malignant  configuration  : 

"  You  all  consented  unto  Salisbury's  death."     Malone, 
5  Henry  the  fifth,]     Old  copy,  redundantly, — "  King  Henry," 
&C.     Steevens. 

^  —  too  famous  to  live  long  !]     So,  in  King  Richard  III. : 
"  So  wise  so  young,  they  say,  do  ne'er  live  long." 

Steevens. 
7  His  arms  spread  wider  than  a  dragon's  wings  ;]     So,  in 
Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

"  The  dragon  twig  of  night  overspreads  the  earth." 

Steevens. 


10  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

He  ne'er  lift  up  his  hand,  but  conquered. 

ExE.  We  mourn  in  black  ;  Why  mourn  we  not 
in  blood  ? 
Henry  is  dead,  and  never  shall  revive  : 
Upon  a  wooden  coffin  we  attend  ; 
And  death's  dishonourable  victory 
We  with  our  stately  presence  glorify. 
Like  captives  bound  to  a  triumphant  car. 
What  ?  shall  we  curse  the  planets  of  mishap. 
That  plotted  thus  our  glory's  overthrow  ? 
Or  shall  we  think  the  subtle-witted  French  ^ 
Conjurers  and  sorcerers,  that,  afraid  of  him, 
By  magick  verses  have  contriv'd  his  end  ? 

fViN.    He  was   a   king  bless  d  of   the  King  of 
kings. 
Unto  the  French  the  dreadful  judgment  day 
So  dreadful  will  not  be,  as  was  his  sight. 
The  battles  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  he  fought : 
The  church's  prayers  made  him  so  prosperous. 

Glo.  The  church  !  where  is  it  ?  Had  not  church- 
men pray'd. 
His  thread  of  life  had  not  so  soon  decay'd : 
None  do  you  like  but  an  effeminate  prince, 
Whom,  like  a  school-boy,  you  may  over-awe. 

Win.  Gloster,  whate'er  we  like,  thou  art  pro- 
tector ; 
And  lookest  to  command  the  prince,  and  realm. 
Thy  wife  is  proud  ;  she  holdeth  thee  in  awe. 
More  than  God,  or  religious  churchmen,  may. 

^  —  the  subtle-witted  French,  &c.]  There  was  a  notion  pre- 
valent a  long  time,  that  life  might  be  taken  away  by  metrical 
charms.  As  superstition  grew  weaker,  these  charms  were  ima- 
gined only  to  have  power  on  irrational  animals.  In  our  author's 
time  it  was  supposed  that  the  Irish  could  kill  rats  by  a  song. 

Johnson. 

So,  in  Reginald  Scot's  Discoverie  of  Witchcraft,  \5S^  :  "  The 
Irishmen  addict  themselves,  &c.  yea  they  will  not  sticke  to 
affirnic  that  they  can  rime  cither  man  or  beast  to  death." 

Steevens. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  11 

Glo.  Name  not  religion,  for  thou  lovst  the  flesh; 
And  ne'er  throughout  the  year  to  church  thou  go'st, 
Except  it  be  to  pray  against  thy  foes. 

Bed.  Cease,  cease  these  jars,  and  rest  your  minds 
in  peace ! 
Let's  to  the  altar  : — Heralds,  wait  on  us  : — 
Instead  of  gold,  we'll  offer  up  our  arms ; 
Since  arms  avail  not,  now  that  Henry's  dead. — 
Posterity,  await  for  wretched  years, 
When  at  their  mothers'  moisten' d  eyes°  babes  shall 

suck ; 
Our  isle  be  made  a  nourish  of  salt  tears  ', 

9  —  MOIST  eyes — ]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The  first,  redun- 
dantly,— moistened.     Steevkns. 

I  Our  isle  be  made  a  nourish  of  salt  tears,]  Mr.  Pope — nia- 
rish.  All  the  old  copies  read,  a  nourish  :  and  considering  it  is 
said  in  the  line  immediately  preceding,  that  babes  shall  suck  at 
their  mothers'  moist  eyes,  it  seems  very  probable  that  our  author 
wrote,  a  nourice,  i.  e.  that  the  ivhole  isle  should  be  one  common 
nurse,  or  nourislier,  of  tears  :  and  those  be  the  nourishment  of  its 
miserable  issue.     Theobald. 

Was  there  ever  such  nonsense  !  But  he  did  not  knov/  that  ma- 
risk  is  an  old  word  for  mnrsli  or  fen  ;  and  therefore  very  judiciously 
thus  corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.     Warburton. 

We  should  certainly  read — marish.  So,  in  The  Spanish  Tra- 
gedy : 

'  "  Made  mountains  marsh,  with  spring-tides  of  my  tears." 

RiTSON. 

I  have  been  informed,  that  what  we  call  at  present  a  stew,  in 
which  fish  are  preserved  alive,  was  anciently  called  a  nourish. 
Nourice,  however,  Fr.  a  nurse,  was  anciently  spelt  many  difterent 
ways,  among  which  nourish  was  one.  So,  in  Syr  Eglamour  of 
Artois,  bl.  1.  no  date  : 

*'  Of  that  chylde  she  was  blyth, 
"  After  noryshes  she  sent  belive." 
A  nourish  therefore  in  this  passage  of  our  author  may  signify  a 
nurse,  as  it  apparently  does  in  The  Tragedies  of  John  Bochas,  by 
Lydgate,  b.  i.  c.  xii. : 

"  Athenes  whan  it  was  in  his  floures 

"  Was  called  nourish  of  philosophers  wise." 

'. Jubae  tellus  generat,  leonum 

Arida  nutrix.     Steevens. 


12  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

And  none  but  women  left  to  wail  the  dead. — 
Henry  the  fifth  !  thy  ghost  I  invocate  ; 
Prosper  this  realm,  keep  it  from  civil  broils  ! 
Combat  with  adverse  planets  in  the  heavens  ! 
A  far  more  glorious  star  thy  soul  will  make. 
Than  Julius  Caesar,  or  bright  ^ 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  honourable  lords,  health  to  you  all ! 
Sad  tidings  bring  I  to  you  out  of  France, 
Of  loss,  of  slaughter,  and  discomfiture : 
Guienne,  Champaigne,  Rheims,  Orleans  '\ 

Spenser,  in  his  Ruins  of  Time,  uses  nourice  as  an  English 
word  : 

"  Chaucer,  the  nourice  of  antiquity."     Malone. 

"  Than  Julius  Ceesar,  or  bright  — ]  I  can't  guess  the  occasion 
of  the  hemistich  and  imperfect  sense  in  this  place  ;  'tis  not  impos- 
sible it  might  have  been  filled  up  with — Francis  Drake,  though 
that  were  a  terrible  anachronism  (as  bad  as  Hector's  quoting 
Aristotle  in  Troilus  and  Cressida) ;  yet  perhaps  at  the  time  that 
brave  Englishman  was  in  his  glory,  to  an  English-hearted  audience, 
and  pronounced  by  some  favourite  actor,  the  thing  might  be  po- 
pular, though  not  judicious  ;  and,  therefore,  by  some  critick  in  fa- 
vour of  the  author,  afterwards  struck  out.  But  this  is  a  mere 
slight  conjecture.     Pope. 

To  confute  the  slight  conjecture  of  Pope,  a  whole  page  of  ve- 
hement opposition  is  annexed  to  this  passage  by  Theobald.  Sir 
Thomas  Hanmerhas  stopped  at  Ccesar — perhaps  more  judiciously. 
It  might,  however,  have  been  written — or  bright  Berenice. 

Johnson. 

Pope's  conjecture  is  confirmed  by  this  peculiar  circumstance, 
that  two  blazing  stars  (the  Ju/imn  sidiis)  are  part  of  the  arms  of 
the  Drake  family.  It  is  well  known  that  families  and  arms  were 
much  more  attended  to  in  Shakspeare's  time,  than  they  are  at  this 
day.     M.  Mason. 

This  blank  undoubtedly  arose  from  the  transcriber's  or  compo- 
sitor's not  being  able  to  make  out  the  name.  So,  in  a  subsequent 
passage  the  word  Nero  was  omitted  for  the  same  reason.  See  the 
Dissertation  at  the  end  of  the  third  part  of  King  Henry  VI. 

Malone. 

3  Guienne,  Champaigne,  Rheims,  Orleans,]  This  verse  might 
be  completed  [as  Mr.  Capell  observes]  by  the  insertion  oi  Roiien 


sc.  I.  KING  IIENUY  VI.  13 

Paris,  Gaysors,  Poictiers,  are  all  quite  lost. 

Bed.  What  say  st  thou,  man,  before  dead  Henry's 
corse  ? 

Speak  softly  ;  or  the  loss  of  those  great  towns 

Will  make  him  burst  his  lead,  and  rise  from  death. 
Glo.  Is  Paris  lost  ?  is  Roiien  yielded  up  ? 

If  Henry  were  recall'd  to  life  again. 

These  news  would  cause  him  once  more  yield  the 
ghost. 
Exi:.  How  were  they  lost  ?  what  treachery  was 

us'd  ? 
Mess.  No  treachery ;  but  want  of  men  and  mo- 
ney. 

Among  the  soldiers  this  is  muttered, — 

That  here  you  maintain  several  factions ; 

And,  whilst  a  field  should  be  despatch'd  and  fought. 

You  are  disputing  of  your  generals. 

One  would  have  ling'ring  wars,  with  little  cost ; 

Another  would  fly  swift,  but  wanteth  wings  ; 

A  third  thinks  *,  without  expence  at  all, 

By  guileful  fair  words  peace  may  be  obtain'd. 

Awake,  awake,  Enghsh  nobiHty ! 

Let  not  sloth  dim  your  honours,  new-begot : 

Cropp'd  are  the  flower-de-luces  in  your  arms ; 

Of  England's  coat  one  half  is  cut  away. 

ExE.  Were  our  tears  wanting  to  this  funeral. 

These  tidings  would  call  forth  her  flowing  tides  \ 
Bed.  Me  they  concern ;  regent  I  am  of  France  : — 

Give  me  my  steeled  coat.  111  fight  for  France. — 

Away  with  these  disgraceful  wailing  robes  ! 

among  the  places  lost,  as  Gloster  in  his  next  speech  infers  that  it 
had  been  mentioned  with  the  rest.     Steevens. 

4  A  third  man  thinks,]    Thus  the  second  folio.     The  first  omits 
the  word— maw,  and  consequently  leaves  the  verse  imperfect. 

Steevens. 

5  —  HER  flowing  tides.]     i.  e.  England's  flowing  tides. 

Malone. 


14  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

Wounds  I  will  lend  the  French,  instead  of  eyes. 
To  weep  their  intermissive  miseries*'. 


Enter  another  Messem^er. 

2  Mess.    Lords,  view  these  letters,  full  of  bad 
mischance, 
France  is  revolted  from  the  English  quite ; 
Except  some  petty  towns  of  no  import : 
The  Dauphin  Charles  is  crowned  king  in  Rheims  ; 
The  bastard  of  Orleans  with  him  is  join'd  ; 
Reignier,  duke  of  Anjou,  doth  take  his  part ; 
The  duke  of  Alenqon  flieth  to  his  side. 

ExE.  The  Dauphin  crowned  king  !  all  fly  to  him ! 
O,  whither  shall  we  fly  from  this  reproach  ? 

Glo.  We    will  not    fly,    but    to    our  enemies' 
throats : — 
Bedford,  if  thou  be  slack,  Fll  fight  it  out. 

Bed.  Gloster,  why  doubt  st  thou  of  my  forward- 
ness? 
An  army  have  I  muster'd  in  my  thoughts. 
Wherewith  already  France  is  over-run. 

Enter  a  third  Messeno-er. 

3  Mess.  My  gracious  lords, — to  add  to  your  la- 
ments. 
Wherewith  you  now  bedew  king  Henry's  hearse, — 
I  must  inform  you  of  a  dismal  fight. 
Betwixt  the  stout  lord  Talbot  and  the  French. 

fViy.  What !  wherein  Talbot  overcame  ?  is't  so  ? 

3  Mess.  O,  no ;    wherein  lord  Talbot  was  o'er- 
thrown : 
The  circumstance  Fll  tell  you  more  at  large. 
The  tenth  of  August  last,  this  dreadful  lord, 

"  —  their  intermissivc  miseries.]  i.  e.  their  miseries,  which 
have  had  only  a  short  intermission  from  Henrv  the  Fifth's  death 
to  my  comini^  amongst  them.     \Vakbukton.  ' 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  15 

Retiring  from  the  siege  of  Orleans, 

Having  full  scarce  six  thousand  in  his  troop  \ 

By  three  and  twenty  thousand  of  the  French 

Was  round  encompassed  and  set  upon : 

No  leisure  had  he  to  enrank  his  men ; 

He  wanted  pikes  to  set  before  his  archers ; 

Instead  whereof,  sharp  stakes,  pluck'd  out  of  hedges, 

They  pitched  in  the  ground  confusedly, 

To  keep  the  horsemen  off  from  breaking  in. 

More  than  three  hours  the  fight  continued ; 

Where  valiant  Talbot,  above  human  thought. 

Enacted  wonders  ^  with  his  sword  and  lance. 

Hundreds  he  sent  to  hell,  and  none  durst  stand  him  ; 

Here,  there,  and  every  where,  enrag'd  he  slew  ^ : 

The  French  exclaim'd.  The  devil  was  in  arms ; 

All  the  whole  army  stood  agaz'd  on  him  : 

His  soldiers,  spying  his  undaunted  spirit, 

A  Talbot !  a  Talbot !  cried  out  amain, 

And  rush'd  into  the  bowels  of  the  battle  \ 

Here  had  the  conquest  fully  been  seal'd  up, 

If  sir  John  Fastolfe  ^  had  not  play'd  the  coward  ; 

7  Having  full  scarce,  &c.]     The  modern  editors  read — scarce 
Jidl,  but,  I  think,  unnecessarily.     So,  in  The  Tempest : 

■"  — —  Prospero,  master  of  difull  poor  cell."     Steevens. 

^ above  human  thought. 

Enacted  WONDERS — ]     So,  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  The  king  enacts  more  ivoiiders  than  a  man."  Steevens. 
9  —  he  SLEW  :]     I  suspect  the  author  wrote Jiew.     Malone. 
•  And  rush'd  into  the  bowels  of  the  battle.]     Again,  in  the 
fifth  Act  of  this  play  : 

"  So,  rushing  in  the  boivels  of  the  French." 
The  same  phrase  had  occurred  in  the  first  part  of  Jeronimo, 
1605: 

"  Meet,  Don  Andrea  !  yes,  in  the  battle's  bowels." 

Steevens. 
^  If  sir  John  Fastolfe,  &c.]  Mr.  Pope  has  taken  notice,  "  That 
Falstaff  is  here  introduced  again,  who  was  dead  in  Henry  V.  The 
occasion  whereof  is,  that  this  play  was  written  before  King 
Henry  IV.  or  King  Henry  V."  But  it  is  the  historical  Sir  .John 
Fastolfe  (for  so  he  is  called  in  both  our  Chroniclers)  that  is  here 
mentioned  ;   who  was  a  lieutenant  general,   deputy  regent  to  the 


IG  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

He  being  in  the  vaward,  (plac'd  behind  "^^ 
With  purpose  to  relieve  and  follow  them,) 
Cowardly  fled,  not  having  struck  one  stroke. 
Hence  grew  the  general  wreck  and  massacre  ; 
Enclosed  were  they  with  their  enemies : 
A  base  Walloon,  to  win  the  Dauphin's  grace. 
Thrust  Talbot  with  a  spear  into  the  back  ; 

duke  of  Bedford  in  Nor.nandy,  and  a  knight  of  the  garter;  and 
not  the  comick  character  afterwards  introduced  by  our  author, 
and  which  was  a  creature  merely  of  his  own  brain.  Nor  when  he 
named  him  Fahtaff  do  1  believe  he  had  any  intention  of  throw- 
ing a  slur  on  the  memory  of  this  renowned  old  warrior. 

Theobald. 
Mr.  Theobald  might  have  seen  his  notion  contradicted  in  the 
very  line  he  quotes  from.  Fasto/fe,  whether  truly  or  not,  is  said 
by  Hall  and  Holinshed  to  have  been  degraded  for  cowardice.  Dr. 
Heylin,  in  his  Saint  George  for  England,  tells  us,  that  "  he  was 
afterwards,  upon  good  reason  bv  him  alledged  in  his  defence,  re- 
stored to  his  honour." — "  This  Sir  John  Fastolfe,"  continues  he, 
"  was,  without  doubt,  a  valiant  and  wise  captain,  notwithstanding 
the  stage  hath  made  merry  with  him."     Farmer. 

See  vol  xvi.  p.  410;  and  Oldys's  Life  of  Sir  John  Fastolfe  in 
the  General  Dictionary.     Malone. 

In  the  18th  Song  of  Drayton's  Polyolbion  is  the  following  cha- 
racter of  this  Sir  John  Fastolph  : 

"  Strong  Fastolph  with  this  man  compare  we  justly  may; 
"  By  Salsbury  who  oft  being  seriously  imploy'd 
"  In  many  a  brave  attempt  the  general  foe  annoy'd  ; 
"  With  excellent  successe  in  Main  and  Anjou  fought, 
"  And  many  a  bulwarke  there  into  our  keeping  brought ; 
"  And  chosen  to  go  forth  with  Vadamont  in  waiTC, 
"  Most  resolutely  tooke  proud  Renate  duke  of  Barre." 

Steevens. 
For  an  account  of  this  Sir  John  Fastolfe,  see  Anstis's  Treatise 
on  the  Order  of  the  Garter ;  Parkins's  Supplement  to  Blomfield's 
History  of  Norfolk  ;  Tanner's  Bibliotheca  Britannica ;  or  Capel's 
notes,  vol.  ii.  p.  221  ;  and  Sir  John  Fenn's  Collection  of  the  Paston 
Letters.     Reed. 

3  He  being  in  the  vaward,  (plac'd  behind,]  Some  of  the  edi- 
tors seem  to  have  considered  this  as  a  contradiction  in  terms,  and 
have  proposed  to  read — the  rearxvard, — but  without  necessity. 
Some  part  of  the  van  must  have  been  behind  the  foremost  line  of 
it.     We  often  say  the  back  front  of  a  house.     Steevens. 

When  an  army  is  attacked  in  the  rear,  the  van  becomes  the 
rear  in  its  turn,  and  of  course  the  reserve.     M.  Mason. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  17 

Whom   all    France,  with    their  chief    assembled 

strength, 
Durst  not  presume  to  look  once  in  the  face. 

Bed.  Is  Talbot  slain  ?  then  I  will  slay  myself, 
For  living  idly  here,  in  pomp  and  ease, 
Whilst  such  a  worthy  leader,  wanting  aid. 
Unto  his  dastard  foe-men  is  betray'd. 

3  Mess.  O  no,  he  lives ;  but  is  took  prisoner, 
And  lord  Scales  with  him,  and  lord  Hungerford : 
Most  of  the  rest  slaughter'd,  or  took,  likewise. 

Bed.  His  ransom  there  is  none  but  I  shall  pay : 
I'll  hale  the  Dauphin  headlong  from  his  throne, 
His  crown  shall  be  the  ransom  of  my  friend; 
Four  of  their  lords  I'll  change  for  one  of  ours. — 
Farewell,  my  masters ;  to  my  task  will  I ; 
Bonfires  in  France  forthwith  I  am  to  make, 
To  keep  our  great  Saint  George's  feast  withal : 
Ten  thousand  soldiers  with  me  1  will  take. 
Whose  bloody  deeds  shall  make  all  Europe  quake. 

3  Mess.  So  you  had  need;    for  Orleans  is  be- 
sieg'd ; 
The  English  army  is  grown  weak  and  faint : 
The  earl  of  Salisbury  craveth  supply, 
And  hardly  keeps  his  men  from  mutiny. 
Since  they,  so  few,  watch  such  a  multitude. 

ExE.    Remember,  lords,  your   oaths  to  Henry 
sworn ; 
Either  to  quell  the  Dauphin  utterly. 
Or  bring  him  in  obedience  to  your  yoke. 

Bed.  I  do  remember  it ;  and  here  take  leave, 
To  go  about  my  preparation.  \_E.vit. 

Glo.  ril  to  the  Tower,  with  all  the  haste  I  can. 
To  view  the  artillery  and  munition ; 
And  then  I  will  proclaim  young  Henry  king.  {^E.vit. 

Exe.  To  Eltham  will  I,  where  the  young  king  is. 
Being  ordain'd  his  special  governor ; 
And  for  his  safety  there  I'll  best  devise.  [E.vit. 

VOL.  xviii.  c 


18  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

If  IN.  Each  hath  his  place  and  function  to  at- 
tend : 
I  am  left  out ;  for  me  nothing  remains. 
But  long  I  will  not  be  Jack-out-of-office  ; 
The  king  from  Eltham  I  intend  to  send, 
And  sit  at  chiefest  stern  of  pubHc  weal*. 

\_E.vit.    Scene  closes. 

SCENE  II. 
France.     Before  Orleans. 

Enter    Charles,  with    his    Forces ;    Alexcon, 
Reigxier,  and  Others. 

Char.  Mars  his  true  moving  \  even  as  in  the 
heavens, 

*  The  king  from  Eltham  I  intend  to  send, 
And  sit  at  cliiefest  stern  of  public  weal.]     The  King  was  not 
at  this  time  so  much  in  the  power  of  the  Cardinal,  that  he  could 
send  him  where  he  pleased.     I  have  therefore  no  doubt  but  that 
there  is  an  error  in  this  passage,  and  that  it  should  be  read  thus  : 
"  The  king  from  Eltham  I  intend  to  steal, 
"  And  sit  at  chiefest  stern  of  publick  weal." 
This  slight  alteration  preserves  the  sense,  and  the  rhyme  also, 
with  which  many  scenes  in  this  play  conclude.     The  King's  per- 
son, as  ajjpears  from  the   speech  immediately  preceding  this  of 
Winchester,  was  under  the  care  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  not  of  the 
Cardinal  : 

"  Exe.  To  Eltham  will  I,  where  the  young  king  is, 
"  Being  ordain'd  his  special  governor."     M.  Mason. 
The  second  charge  in  the  Articles  of  Acusation  preferred  by  the 
Duke  of  Gloster  against  the  Bishop,   (Hall's  Chron.  Henry  VI. 
f.  12,  b.)  countenances  this  conjecture.     Malone. 

The  disagreeable  clash  of  the  words — intend  and  send,  seems 
indeed  to  confirm  the  propriety  of  Mr.  M.  Mason's  emendation. 

Steevsns. 
5  Mars  his  true  moving,  &c.]  So,  Nash,  in  one  of  his  prefaces 
before  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  Up,  1596  :  "  You  areas  ignorant 
in  the  true  movings  of  my  muse,  as  the  astronomers  are  in  the 
true  movings  of  Mars,  which  to  this  day  they  could  never  attain 
to.'     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  19 

So  in  the  earth,  to  this  day  is  not  known  : 

Late  did  he  shine  upon  the  English  side : 

Now  we  are  victors  upon  us  he  smiles. 

What  towns  of  any  moment,  but  we  have  ? 

At  pleasure  here  we  lie,  near  Orleans; 

Otherwhiles,  the  famish'd  English,  like  pale  ghosts, 

Faintly  besiege  us  one  hour  in  a  month. 

Alen.  They  want  their  porridge,  and  their  fat 
bull-beeves : 
Either  they  must  be  dieted  like  mules. 
And  have  their  provender  tyed  to  their  mouths. 
Or  piteous  they  will  look,  like  drowned  mice. 

Reig.  Let's  raise  the  siege;   Why  live  we  idly 
here  ? 
Talbot  is  taken,  whom  we  wont  to  fear: 
Remaineth  none  but  mad-brain'd  Salisbury ; 
And  he  may  well  in  fretting  spend  his  gall. 
Nor  men,  nor  money,  hath  he  to  make  war. 

Char.  Sound,  sound  alarum  ;    we  will  rush  on 
them. 
Now  for  the  honour  of  the  forlorn  French : — 
Him  I  forgive  my  death,  that  killeth  me. 
When  he  sees  me  go  back  one  foot,  or  fly. 

\Eoceunt. 

Alarums;  Excursions;  afterwards  a  Retreat. 

Re-enter   Charles^    Alencon,   Reignier,    and 

Others. 

Char.  Who  ever  saw  the  like  ?  what  men  have 
IP- 
Dogs  !  cowards  !  dastards  ! — I  would  ne'er  have  fled. 
But  that  they  left  me  'midst  my  enemies. 

Reig.  Salisbury  is  a  desperate  homicide ; 
He  fighteth  as  one  weary  of  his  life. 
The  other  lords,  like  lions  wanting  food, 

c  2 


20  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  i. 

Do  rush  upon  us  as  their  hungry  prey^. 

Alex.  Froissard,  a  countryman  of  ours,  records, 
England  all  Olivers  and  Rowlands  bred  '', 
During  the  time  Edward  the  third  did  reign. 
More  truly  now  may  this  be  verified  ; 
For  none  but  Samsons,  and  Goliasses, 
It  sendeth  forth  to  skirmish.     One  to  ten ! 
Lean  raw-bon'd  rascals !  who  would  e'er  suppose 
They  had  such  courage  and  audacity  ? 

Char.  Let's  leave  this  town ;  for  they  are  hair- 
brain'd  slaves. 
And  hunger  will  enforce  them  to  be  more  eager  ^: 
Of  old  I  know  them  ;  rather  with  their  teeth 
The  walls  they'll  tear  down,  than  forsake  the  siege. 

Reig.  I  think,  by  some  odd  gimmals  ^  or  device, 

^  —  as  their  hungry  pvey.]     I  believe  it  should  be  read  : 
" as  their  hungred  prey."     Johnson. 

I  adhere  to  the  old  reading,  which  appears  to  signify — *  the 
prey  for  which  they  are  hungry.'     Steevens. 

7  England  all  Olivers  and  Rowlands  bred,]  These  were  two 
of  the  most  famous  in  the  list  of  Charlemagne's  twelve  peers ; 
and  their  exploits  are  rendered  so  ridiculously  and  equally  extra- 
vagant by  the  old  romancers,  that  from  thence  arose  that  saying 
amongst  our  plain  and  sensible  ancestors,  of  '  giving  one  a  Row- 
land for  his  Oliver,'  to  signify  the  matching  one  incredible  lie  with 
another.     Warbukton. 

Rather,  to  oppose  one  hero  to  another ;  i.  e.  "  to  give  a  person 
as  good  a  one  as  he  brings."     Steevens, 

The  old  copy  has — breed.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe.  Malone. 

^  And  hunger  will  enforce  them  to  be  more  eager  :]  The  pre- 
position to  should  be  omitted,  as  injurious  to  the  measure,  and 
imnecessary  in  the  old  elliptical  mode  of  writing.  So,  Act  IV. 
So.  I.  of  this  play  : 

"  Let  me  persuade  you  take  a  better  course." 
i.  e.  to  take,  &.c.     The  error  pointed  out,  occurs  again  in  p.  30: 
"  Piel'd  priest,  dost  thou  command  me  to  be  shut  out  ?  " 

Steevens. 

9  — gimmals-—]  A  gimmnl  is  a  piece  of  jointed  work, 
where  one  piece  moves  within  another,  whence  it  is  taken  at 
large  for  an  engine.     It  is  now  by  the  vulgar  called  a  gimcrack. 

Johnson. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  21 

Their  arms  are  set,  like  clocks  \  still  to  strike  on  ; 
Else  ne'er  could  they  hold  out  so,  as  they  do. 
By  my  consent,  we'll  e'en  let  them  alone. 
Alen.  Be  it  so. 

Enter  the  Bastard  of  Orleans. 

Bast.  Where's  the  prince  Dauphin  .^  I  have  news 

for  him. 
Char.  Bastard  of  Orleans  '\  thrice  welcome  to  us. 

In  the  inventory  of  the  jewels,  &c.  belonging  to  Salisbury 
cathedral,  taken  in  1536,  28th  of  Henry  VIII.  is  "  A  faire  chest 
with  gimmals  and  key."  Again  :  '•  Three  other  chests  with 
gimmals  of  silver  and  gilt."  Again,  in  The  Vow-breaker,  or 
The  faire  Maide  of  Clifton,   1636  : 

"  My  actes  are  like  the  motionall  gymmals 
"  Fixt  in  a  watch." 
See  also  King  Henry  V.  Act  IV.  Sc.  II.     Steevens. 
'  Their  arms  are  set,  like  clocks,]     Perhaps  our  author  was 
thinking   of  the  clocks  in  which   figures  in  the  shape    of  men 
struck  the  hours.     Of  these  there  were  many  in  his  time. 

Malone. 
To  go  like  clockwork,   is  still  a  phrase  in  common  use,   to  ex- 
press a  regular  and  constant  motion.     Steevens. 

^  Bastard  of  Orleans,]  That  this  in  former  times  was  not  a 
term  of  reproach,  see  Bishop  Hurd's  Letters  on  Chivalry  and 
Romance,  in  the  third  volume  of  his  Dialogues,  p.  233,  who 
observing  on  circumstances  of  agreement  between  the  heroick 
and  Gothick  manners,  says,  that  "  Bastardy  was  in  credit  with 
both,"  One  of  William  the  Conqueror's  charters  begins,  "  Ego 
Gulielmus  cognomento  Bastardus."  And  in  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward I.  John  Earl  Warren  and  Surrey  being  called  before  the 
King's  Justices  to  show  by  what  title  he  held  his  lands,  "  produxit 
in  medium  gladium  antiquum  evaginatum — et  ait,  Ecce  Domini 
mei,  ecce  warrantum  meum  !  Antecessores  mei  cum  Willo  Bas- 
tardo  venientes  conquesti  sunt  terras  suas,"  &c.  Dzigd.  Qrig. 
Jurid.  p.  13.     Dugd.  Bar.  of  Erigl.  vol.  i.  Blount  9. 

*'  Le  Bastarde  de  Savoy,"  is  inscribed  over  the  head  of  one  of 
the  figures  in  a  curious  picture  of  the  Battle  of  Pavja,  in  the 
Ashmolean  Museum.  In  Fenn's  Paston  Letters,  vol.  iii.  p.  72-3, 
in  the  articles  of  impeachment  against  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  we 
read  of  the  "  Erie  of  Danas,  bastard  of  Orlyaunce — ." 

Vaillant. 
Bastardy  was  reckoned  no  disgrace  among  the  ancients.     See 


22  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

Bast.  Methinks,  your  looks  are  sad,  your  cheer 
appall  d  ^ ; 
Hath  the  late  overthrow  wrought  this  offence  ? 
Be  not  dismay'd,  for  succour  is  at  hand  : 
A  holy  maid  hither  with  me  I  bring, 
Which,  by  a  vision  sent  to  her  from  heaven. 
Ordained  is  to  raise  this  tedious  siege, 
And  drive  the  English  forth  the  bounds  of  France. 
The  spirit  of  deep  prophecy  she  hath, 
Exceeding  the  nine  sibyls  of  old  Rome  * ; 
What's  past  and  what's  to  come,  she  can  descry. 
Speak,  shall  I  call  her  in  ?  Believe  my  words  % 
For  they  are  certain  and  unfallible. 

Char.     Go,  call  her  in :   \_E.vit  Bastard.^  But, 
first,  to  try  her  skill, 
Reignier,  stand  thou  as  Dauphin  in  my  place  : 

the  eighth  Iliad,  in  which  the  illegitimacy  of  Teucer  is  mentioned 
as  a  panegyrick  upon  him,  ver.  284  : 

Kaj  (TE,     voSov  OTrp  eOVT«,    XOp.ia<TUTO  Ci3  Ivi  o'lTta. 

Steeveks. 
Mr.  Steevens's  quotation  rather  tends  to  overthrow  the  position 
which  it  is  brought  to  support :  voSov  HEP  sovra.  means  although 
he  was  a  bastard.  Yet  he  might  have  produced  the  authority 
of  Eustathius  in  favour  of  his  explanation  of  the  passage  in 
Homer.  See  Potter's  Antiquities,  vol.  ii.  p.  377,  edit.  1715, 
where  this  topick  is  fully  discussed.     Boswell. 

3  — your  CHEER  appall'd  ;]     Cheer  in  jollitt/,  gaiety. 

M.  Mason. 
Cheer,  rather  signifies — countenance.     So,  in  A  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream  : 

"  All  fancy-sick  she  is,  and  pale  of  cheer." 
See  vol.  V.  p.  265,  n.  2.     Steevens. 

4  — NINE  SIBYLS  of  old  Rome  ;]  There  were  no  nine  sibyls 
of  Rome  ;  but  he  confounds  things,  and  mistakes  this  for  the  nine 
books  of  Sibylline  oracles,  brought  to  one  of  the  Tarquins. 

Warburton. 
^  —  Believe  my  words,]     It  should  be  read  : 

" Believe  ^er  words."     Johnson. 

I  perceive  no  need  of  change.  The  Bastard  calls  upon  the 
Dauphin  to  believe  the  extraordinary  account  he  has  just  given 
of  the  prophetick  spirit  and  prowess  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VL  23 

Question  her  proudly,  let  thy  looks  be  stern  : — 
By  this  means  shall  we  sound  what  skill  she  hath. 

\Retires. 

Enter  La  Pucelle,  Bastai^d  of  Orleans,  and 

Others. 

Reig.  Fair  maid,  is't  thou  wilt  do  these  wond'rous 
feats  ? 

Puc.  Reignier,  is't  thou  that  thinkest  to  beguile 
me  ? — 
Where  is  the  Dauphin  ? — come,  come  from  behind : 
I  know  thee  well,  though  never  seen  before. 
Be  not  amaz'd,  there's  nothing  hid  from  me : 
In  private  will  I  talk  with  thee  apart ; — 
Stand  back,  you  lords,  and  give  us  leave  a  while. 

Reig.  She  takes  upon  her  bravely  at  first  dash. 

Puc.  Dauphin,  I  am  by  birth  a  shepherd's  daugh- 
ter, 
My  wit  untrain'd  in  any  kind  of  art. 
Heaven  and  our  Lady  gracious,  hath  it  pleas'd 
To  shine  on  my  contemptible  estate  ^ : 
Lo,  whilst  I  waited  on  my  tender  lambs, 
And  to  sun's  parching  heat  display'd  my  cheeks, 
God's  mother  deigned  to  appear  to  me  : 
And,  in  a  vision  full  of  majesty  ^ 
Will'd  me  to  leave  my  base  vocation. 
And  free  my  country  from  calamity : 
Her  aid  she  promis'd,  and  assur'd  success : 
In  complete  glory  she  reveal'd  herself; 
And,  whereas  I  was  black  and  swart  before. 
With  those  clear  rays  which  she  infus'd  on  me, 

^  To  shine  on  my  contemptible  estate:]     So,  in  Daniel's  Com- 
plaint of  Rosamond,  1594-: 

"  . tliy  kimg,  &c. 

"  Lightens  forth  gloiy  on  thy  dark  estate."     Steevens. 
7  — a  VISION  full  of  MAJESTY,]     So,  in  The  Tcmpest : 
"  This  is  a  most  majestick  vision — ."     Steevens. 


24  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

That  beauty  am  I  bless'd  with,  which  you  may  see^. 

Ask  me  what  question  thou  canst  possible. 

And  I  will  answer  unpremeditated : 

My  courage  try  by  combat,  if  thou  dar'st. 

And  thou  shalt  find  that  I  exceed  my  sex. 

Resolve  on  this'^ :  Thou  shalt  be  fortunate. 

If  thou  receive  me  for  thy  warlike  mate. 

Char.  Thou  hast  astonish'd  me  with  thy  high 
terms ; 

Only  this  proof  I'll  of  thy  valour  make, — 

In  single  combat  thou  shalt  buckle  with  me ; 

And,  if  thou  vanquishest,  thy  words  are  true  ; 

Otherwise,  I  renounce  all  confidence. 

Puc.    I    am   prepar'd:    here  is   my   keen-edg'd 
sword, 

Deck'd  with  five  flower-de-luces  on  each  side^ ; 

The  which  at  Touraine,  in  Saint  Katharine's  church- 
yard, 

Out  of  a  great  deal  of  old  iron  I  chose  forth  ^. 

8  — which  you  see.]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The  first,  in- 
judiciously as  well  as  redundantly, — which  you  may  .see. 

Steevens. 

9  Resolve  on  this  :]  i.  e.  be  firmlv  persuaded  of  it.  So,  in 
King  Heniy  \T.  Part  III  : 

" I  am  7-esoIv'd 

"  That  Clifford's  manhood  lies  upon  his  tongue." 

Steevens. 
'  Deck'd  with  five  flower-de-luces,  &c.]  Old  copy-^'ne/ 
but  we  should  read,  according  to  Holinshed,—;^w  flower-de-luces. 
" — in  a  secret  place  there  among  old  iron,  appointed  she  hir 
sword  to  be  sought  out  and  brought  her,  that  with  Jive  floure-de- 
lices  was  graven  on  both  sides,"  &c.     Steevens. 

The  same  mistake  having  happened  in  A  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream,  and  in  other  places,  I  have  not  hesitated  to  reform  the 
text,  according  to  Mr.  Steevens's  suggestion.  In  The  MSS.  of 
the  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  u  and  n  are  undistinguishable. 

Malone, 
*  Out  of  a  deal  of  old  iron,   &c.]     The  old  copv  yet   more  re- 
dundantly—Out  of  a  .^rra;t  deal,  &c.     I  have  no  "doubt   but  the 
original  line  stood,  elliptically,  thus  : 

"  Out  a  deal  of  old  iron  I  chose  forth." 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  25 

Char.  Then  come  o'  God's  name,  I  fear  no  wo- 
man. 
Puc.  And,  while  I  live,  I'll  ne'er  fly  from  a  man. 

[They  fight. 
Char.  Stay,  stay,  thy  hands ;  thou  art  an  Ama- 
zon, 
And  lightest  with  the  sword  of  Deborah. 

Puc.  Christ's  mother  helps  me,  else  I  were  too 

weak. 
Char.  Whoe'er  helps  thee,  'tis  thou  that  must 
help  me : 
Impatiently  I  burn  with  thy  desire^ ; 
My  heart  and  hands  thou  hast  at  once  subdu'd. 
Excellent  Pucelle,  if  thy  name  be  so, 
Let  me  thy  servant,  and  not  sovereign,  be ; 
Tis  the  French  Dauphin  sueth  to  thee  thus. 
Puc.  I  must  not  yield  to  any  rites  of  love. 
For  my  profession's  sacred  from  above  : 
When  I  have  chased  all  thy  foes  from  hence, 
Then  will  I  think  upon  a  recompense. 

Char.  Mean  time  look  gracious  on  thy  prostrate 

thrall. 
Reig.  My  lord,  methinks,  is  very  long  in  talk. 
Alen.  Doubtless  he  shrives  this  woman  to  her 
smock; 
Else  ne'er  could  he  so  long  protract  his  speech. 
Reig.  Shall  we  disturb,  him,  since  he  keeps  no 

mean  .^ 
Alen.  He  may  mean  more  than  we  poor  men 
do  know : 


The  phrase  of  hospitals  is  still  an  out  door,  not  an  out  of  door 
patient.     Steevens. 

3  Impatiently  I  burn  with  thy  desire  ;]     The  amorous   consti- 
tution of  the  Dauphin  has  been  mentioned  in  the  preceding  play  : 
"  Doing  is  activity,  and  he  will  still  be  doing." 

Collins. 
The  Dauphin  in  the  preceding  play  is  John,  the  elder  brother 
of  the  present  speaker.     He  died  in  lilS,  the  year  after  the 
battle  of  Agincourt.     Ritson. 


26  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

These    women    are    shrewd  tempters    with   their 
tongues. 

Rejg.  My  lord,  where  are  you  ?  what  devise  you 
on  ? 
Shall  we  give  over  Orleans,  or  no  ? 

Phc.  Why,  no,  I  say,  distrustful  recreants ! 
Fight  till  the  last  gasp ;  I  will  be  your  guard. 

Char.  What  she  says,  Fll  confirm  ;  we'll  fight  it 
out. 

Puc.  Assign'd  am  I  to  be  the  English  scourge. 
This  night  the  siege  assuredly  Fll  raise  : 
Expect  Saint  Martin's  summer'*,  halcyon  days. 
Since  I  have  entered  into  these  wars. 
Glory  is  like  a  circle  in  the  water, 
Which  never  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself. 
Till,  by  broad  spreading,  it  disperse  to  nought'. 

^  Expect  St.  Martin's  summer,]  That  is,  expect  prosperity 
after  mis/brtune,  lil<e  fair  weather  at  Marllemas,  after  winter  has 
begun.     .Johnson. 

i  Glory  is  like  a  circle  in  the  water. 
Which  never  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself, 

Till,  Vjy  broad  spreading,   it  disperse   to   nought.]     So,  in 
Nosce  Teipsum,  a  poem  by  Sir  John  Davies,   ISiJi)  : 
"  As  when  a  stone  is  into  water  cast, 
"  One  circle  doth  another  circle  make, 
"  Till  the  last  circle  reach  the  bank  at  last." 
The  same  image,  without  the  particular  apjdication,   may  be 
found  in  Silius  Italicus,  lib.  xiii. : 

Sic  ubi  perrumyjsit  stagnantem  calculus  undam, 
Exiguos  format  per  prima  volumina  gyros, 
Mox  tremulum  vibrans  motu  gliscente  liquorem 
Multiplicat  crebros  sinuati  gurgitis  orbes  ; 
Donee  postremo  laxatis  circulus  oris, 
Contingat  gcminas  patulo  curvamine  ripas.     Malonk. 
This  was  a  favourite  simile  with  Pope.     It  is  to  be  found  also 
in  Ariosto's  Orlando  Furio.so,  book  viii.  st.  63,  of  Sir  John  Har- 
rington's translation  : 

"  As  circles  in  a  water  cleare  are  spread, 
*'  When  sunne  doth  shine  by  day,  and  moone  by  night, 
"  Succeeding  one  another  in  a  ranke, 
"  Till  all  by  one  and  one  do  touch  the  bankc." 
I  meet  with  it  again   in   Chapman's  Epistle  Dcdicatoric,  pre- 
fixed to  his  version  of  the  Iliad : 


sc.  Ji.  KING  HEXRY  VI.  27; 

With  Henry's  death,  the  Enghsh  circle  ends  ; 
Dispersed  are  the  glories  it  included. 
Now  am  I  like  that  proud  insulting  ship, 
Which  Caesar  and  his  fortune  bare  at  once  ^ 

Char.  Was  IMahomet  inspired  with  a  dove "  ? 
Thou  with  an  eagle  art  inspired  then. 
Helen,  the  mother  of  great  Constantine, 
Nor  yet  Saint  Philip's  daughters  ''j  were  like  thee. 
Bright  star  of  \''enus,  fall  n  down  on  the  earth. 
How  may  I  reverently  worship  thee  enough''  ? 

Alex.    Leave  off  delays,  and    let  us  raise   the 
siege. 


■  As  in  a  spring. 


"  The  plyant  water,  movd  with  any  thing 
"  Let  fall  into  it,  puts  her  motion  out 
"  In  perfect  circles,  that  move  round  about 
"  The  gentle  fountaine,  one  another  raysing." 
And  the  same  image  is  much  expanded  by  Sylvester,  the  trans- 
lator of  Du  Bartas,  3d  part  of  2d  day  of  2d  week. 

Holt  White. 
^  —  like  that  proud  insulting  ship, 
Which  Caesar  and  his  fortune  bare  at  once.]  This  alludes  to 
a  passage  in  Plutarch's  Life  of  .Julius  Csesar,  thus  translated  by 
Sir  Thomas  North  :  "  ('ssar  hearing  that,  straight  discovered 
himselfe  unto  the  maister  of  the  pynnace,  who  at  the  first  was 
amazed  when  he  saw  him  ;  but  Csesar,  &c.  said  unto  him.  Good 
fellow,  be  of  good  cheere,  &c.  and  fear  not,  for  thou  hast  Ccesar 
and  /lis  fortune  icith  ihcc."     Steevens. 

"  M'as  ^LvHOiMET  inspired  with  a  dove  ?]  Mahomet  had  a 
dove,  "  which  he  used  to  feed  with  wheat  out  of  his  ear;  which 
dove,  when  it  was  hungry,  lighted  on  Maliomet's  shoulder,  and 
thrust  its  bill  in  to  find  its  breakfast  ;  Mahomet  persuading  the 
rude  and  simple  Arabians,  that  it  was  the  Holy  Ghost  that  gave 
him  advice."  See  Sir  M'altcr  Raleigh's  History  of  the  ^V'orld, 
book  i.  part  i.  ch.  vi.     Life  of  Mahomet,  by  Dr.  Prideaux. 

Gkj;y. 
^  Nor  yet  Saint  Philip's  daughters,]     Meaning  the  four  daugh- 
ters of  Phili])  mentioned  in  the  Acts.     Hanmf.u. 

9  How  may  I  reverently  worship  thee  enough  ?]  Perhaps 
this  unmctrical  line  originally  ran  thus  : 

"  How  may  I  reverence,  worship  thee  enough  ?  " 
The  climax  rises  properly,  from  reverence,  to  tvorship. 

Steevens. 


28  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

Reig.  Woman,  do  what  thou  canst  to  save  our 
honours ; 
Drive  them  from  Orleans,  and  be  immortaliz'd. 
Char.    Presently  we'll   try: — Come,  let's   away 
about  it : 
No  prophet  will  I  trust,  if  she  prove  false. 

\_Ej:eunt. 

SCENE  III. 

London.     Hill  before  the  Tower. 

Enter,  at  the  Gates,  the  Duke  of  Gloster,  with 
his  Serving-men,  in  blue  Coats. 

Glo.  I  am  come  to  survey  the  Tower  this  day ; 
Since  Henry's  death,  I  fear,  there  is  conveyance  \ — 
Where  be  these  warders,  that  they  wait  not  here  ? 
Open  the  gates  ;  Gloster  it  is  that  calls. 

\_Servants  knock. 
1  Ward.  [JVithin?^  Who  is  there  that  knocks  so 
imperiously  ? 

1  Serf.  It  is  the  noble  duke  of  Gloster. 

2  Ward.    \Within7\    Whoe'er  he  be,  you  may 

not  be  let  in. 
1  Serv.  Answer  you  so  the  lord  protector,  vil- 
lains ? 
1  Ward.   [^fFithin.']  The  Lord  protect  him !  so 
we  answer  him : 
We  do  no  otherwise  than  we  are  will'd. 

Glo.  Who  willed  you  ?  or  whose  will  stands  but 
mine  ? 
There's  none  protector  of  the  realm,  but  I . — 

*  — there  is  CONVEYANCE.]     ConveT/ance  means  thrff. 

Hanmer. 
So  Pistol,  in  The   Merry  Wives    of  Windsor  :   "  Convey  the 
wise  it  call :  Steal.'  foh  ;  a  fico  for  the  phrase."     Steevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  29 

Break  up  the  gates ^,  I'll  be  your  warrantize  : 
Shall  I  be  flouted  thus  by  dunghill  grooms  ? 

Servants  rush  at  the  Tower  Gates.     Enter,  to  the 
Gates,  IVooDviLLE,  the  Lieutenant. 

Wood.    [JVithin^    What   noise  is   this  ?    what 

traitors  have  we  here  ? 
Glo.  Lieutenant,  is  it  you,  whose  voice  I  hear  ? 
Open  the  gates  ;  here's  Gloster  that  would  enter. 
Wood.  \JVithin?\^  Have  patience,  noble  duke; 
I  may  not  open ; 
The  cardinal  of  Winchester  forbids : 
From  him  I  have  express  commandement. 
That  thou,  nor  none  of  thine,  shall  be  let  in. 

Glo.  Faint-hearted  Woodville,  prizest  him,  'fore 
me  ? 
Arrogant  Winchester  ?  that  haughty  prelate. 
Whom  Henry,  our  late  sovereign,  ne'er  could  brook  ? 
Thou  art  no  friend  to  God,  or  to  the  king : 
Open  the  gates,  or  I'll  shut  thee  out  shortly. 

1  Serv.  Open  the  gates  unto  the  lord  protector; 
Or  we'll  burst  them  open,  if  that  you  come  not 
quickly, 

^  Break  up  the  gates,]  I  suppose  to  break  up  the  gate  is  to 
force  up  the  portcullis,  or  by  the  application  of  petards  to  blow 
up  the  gates  themselves.     Steevens. 

To  break  up  in   Shakspeare's  age  was  the  same  as  to  hreak 
open.     Thus,  in  our  translation  of  the  Bible  :   •'  They  have  broken 
up,    and  have  passed   through  the   crate."'     Micah,  ii.   13.     So^ 
again,  in  St.  Matthew,  xxiv.  43  :   "He  would  have  watched,  and 
would  not  have  suffered  his  house  to  be  broken  up."     Whalley. 

Some  one  has  proposed  to  read — 

"  Break  ope  the  gates ,"^ 

but  the  old  copy  is  right.  So  Hall,  Henry  VI.  folio  78,  b : 
"  The  lusty  Kentishmen  hopyng  on  more  friends,  brake  up  the 
gaytes  of  the  King's  Bench  and  Marshalsea,"  &c. 

See  also  Florios  Italian  Dictionary,  1.598  :  "  Bottura.  A  bur- 
glarie,  or  breaking  up  of  a  house."     Malone. 


30  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

Enter  IVinchester^  attended  by  a  Train  of  Ser- 
vants in  Tawny  Coats  ^. 

IP  IN.    How  now,    ambitious    Humphry  ?    what 

means  this  "*  ? 
Glo.  Peel'd  priest^,  dost  thou  command  me  to 

be  shut  out  ? 

3  — Tatvni/  Coats.']  It  appears  from  the  following  passage  in 
a  comedy  called,  A  Maidenhead  Well  Lost,  163i,  that  a  tnxvny 
coat  was  the  dress  of  a  summoner,  i.  e.  an  apparitor,  an  officer 
whose  business  it  was  to  summon  offenders  to  an  ecclesiastical 
court : 

"  Tho  I  was  never  a  tavony-coat,  I  have  play'd  the  summoner' s 
part." 

These  are  the  proper  attendants  therefore  on  the  Bishop  of 
Winchester.  So,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  822  :  "  — and  by  the 
way  the  bishop  of  London  met  him,  attended  on  by  a  goodly 
company  of  gentlemen  in  tawny-coats,"  &c. 

Tavony  was  likewise  a  colour  worn  for  mourning,  as  well  as 
Hack ;  and  was  therefore  the  suitable  and  sober  habit  of  any 
person  employed  in  an  ecclesiastical  court : 

"  A  croune  of  bayes  shall  that  man  weare 

"  That  triumphs  over  me  ; 
"  For  hlacke  and  iaxvnie  will  I  weare, 
"  Whiche  mournyn^  colojirs  be." 
The  Complaint  of  a  Lover  vvearyng  Zi/rtc^e  andtatvnie  ;  by  E.  O. 
[i.  e.  the  Earl  of  Oxford.]     Paradise  of  Dainty  Devises,  1576. 

Steevens. 

4  How  now,  ambitious  Humphrey  ?  what  means  this  ?J  The 
first  folio  has  it — -umplieir.  The  traces  of  the  letters,  and  the 
word  being  printed  in  Italicks,  convince  me  that  the  Duke's 
christian  name  lurked  under  this  corruption,     Theobald. 

5  Piel'd  priest,]     Alluding  to  his  shaven  crown.     Pope. 

In  Skinner  (to  whose  Dictionary  I  was  directed  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards) I  find  that  it  means  more  :  PiWd  or  peetd  garlic/c,  cut 
pellis,  vel  pili  omnes  ex  morbo  aliquo,  prcesertim  e  lue  venerea^ 
dejiuxerunt. 

In  Ben  Jonsons  Bartholomew  Fair,  the  following  instance 
occurs : 

"  I'll  see  them  p — 'd  first,  and  pil'd  and  AowhXe  pil'd." 

Steevens. 

In  Weever's  Funeral  Monuments,  p.  364-,  Robert  Baldocke, 
bishop  of  London,  is  called  a  peetd  priest,  pilide  clerk,  seemingly 


sc.  HI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  31 

IFiN.  I  do,  thou  most  usurping  proditor. 
And  not  protector  of  the  king  or  realm. 

Glo.  Stand  back,  thou  manifest  conspirator. 
Thou,  that  contriv'dst  to  murder  our  dead  lord ; 
Thou  that  giv'st  whores  indulgences  to  sin  ^ : 
I'll  canvas  thee  in  thy  broad  cardinal's  hat '', 

in  allusion  to  his  shaven  crown  alone.     So,  bald-head  was  a  term 
of  scorn  and  mockery.     Tollet. 

The  old  copy  has — piel'd  priest.  Piel'd  and  pil'd  were  only 
the  old  spelling  of  peel'd.  So,  in  our  poet's  Rape  of  Lucrece, 
4to.  1594. : 

"  His  leaves  will  wither,  and  his  sap  decay, 
"  So  must  my  soul,  her  bark  being  pil'd  away." 

See  also  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary,  1598:  "  Pelare.  To  pill 
or  pluck,  as  they  do  the  feathers  of  fowle ;  to  pull  off"  the  hair 
or  skin."     M alone. 

^  Thou,  that  giv'st  whores  indulgences  to  sin  :]  The  public 
stews  were  formerly  under  the  district  of  the  bishop  of  Winchester. 

Pope. 

There  is  now  extant  an  old  manuscript  (formerly  the  office- 
book  of  the  court-leet  held  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  bishop 
of  Winchester  in  Southwark,)  in  which  are  mentioned  the  several 
fees  arising  from  the  brothel-houses  allowed  to  be  kept  in  the 
bishop's  manor,  with  the  customs  and  regulations  of  them.  One 
of  the  articles  is  : 

"  De  his,  qui  custodiunt  mulieres  habentes  nefandam  infirmi- 
tatera." 

"  Item.  That  no  stewholder  keep  any  woman  within  his  house, 
that  hath  any  sickness  of  brenning,  but  that  she  be  put  out  upon 
pain  of  making  a  fyne  unto  the  lord  of  C  shillings."     Upton. 

7  I'll  CANVAS  thee  in  thy  broad  cardinal's  hat,]  This  means, 
I  believe — "  I'll  tumble  thee  into  thy  great  hat,  and  shake  thee, 
as  bran  and  meal  are  shaken  in  a  sieve." 

So,  Sir  W.  D'Avenant,  in  The  Cruel  Brother,  1630: 
"  I'll  sift  and  winnow  him  in  an  old  hat." 

To  canvas  was  anciently  used  for  to  sift.  So,  in  Hans  Beerpot's 
invisible  Comedy,   1618: 

" We'll  canvas  him.' 

" 1  am  too  big ." 

Again,  in  The  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  Have  With  You  to  Saffron 
Walden,  or  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  up,  &c.  1596  :  "  — canvaze 
him  and  his  angell  brother  Gabriell,  in  ten  sheets  of  paper,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

Again,   in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  Dol  Tearsheet 


32  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

If  thou  proceed  in  this  thy  insolence. 

Win,  Nay,  stand  thou  back,  I  will  not  budge  a 
foot ; 
This  be  Damascus,  be  thou  cursed  Cain  ^, 
To  slay  thy  brother  Abel,  if  thou  wilt. 

Glo.  I  will  not  slay  thee,  but  Fll  drive  thee  back : 
Thy  scarlet  robes,  as  a  child's  bearing-cloth 
I'll  use,  to  carry  thee  out  of  this  place. 

W IN.  Do  what  thou  dar'st ;  I  beard  thee  to  thy 

face. 
Glo.   What.P  am  I  dar'd,  and  bearded  to   my 
face  .^ — 
Draw,  men,  for  all  this  privileged  place ; 
Blue-coats   to  tawny-coats.      Priest,  beware  your 
beard; 

\Gloster  and  his  Men  attack  the  Bishop. 
I  mean  to  tug  it,  and  to  cuff  you  soundly : 
Under  my  feet  I  stamp  thy  cardinal's  hat ; 
In  spite  of  pope  or  dignities  of  church. 
Here  by  the  cheeks  Fll  drag  thee  up  and  down. 
Win.    Gloster,    thou'lt    answer    this  before  the 
pope. 

says  to  FalstafF — "  If  thou  dost,  I'll  canvas  thee  between  a  pair  of 
sheets."     M.  Mason. 

Probably  from  the  materials  of  which  the  bottom  of  a  sieve  is 
made.  Perhaps,  however,  in  the  passage  before  us  Gloster  means, 
that  he  will  toss  the  cardinal  in  a  sheet,  even  while  he  was  in- 
vested with  the  peculiar  badge  of  his  ecclesiastical  dignity. — 
Coarse  sheets  were  formerly  termed  canvass  sheets.  See  vol.  xvii. 
p.  92,  n.  7,     Malone. 

^  This  be  Damascus,  be  thou  cursed  Cain,]  About  four  miles 
from  Damascus  is  a  high  hill,  reported  to  be  the  same  on  which 
Cain  slew  his  brother  Abel.     Maundrel's  Travels,  p.  131.     Pope. 

Sir  John  Maundeville  says :  "  And  in  that  place  where  Damascus 
was  founded,  Kaym  sloughe  Abel  his  brother."  Maimdevilles 
Travels,  edit.  1725,  p.  148.     Reed. 

"  Damascus  is  as  moche  to  saye  as  shedynge  of  blood.  For 
there  Chaym  slowe  Abeil,  and  hidde  hym  in  the  sonde."  Poly- 
chro)iicon,  fo.  xii.     Ritson. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VT.  33 

Glo.  Winchester  goose'' !  I  cry — a  rope !  a  rope  M — 
Now  beat  them  hence,  Why  do  you  let  them  stay  ? — 
Thee  I'll  chase  hence,  thou  wolf  in  sheep's  array. — 
Out,  tawny  coats  I — out,  scarlet  hypocrite  '^ ! 

Here  a  great  Tumult.     In  the  midst  of  it.  Enter 
the  Mayor  of  London  ■^,  and  Officers. 

May.  Fye,  lords  !  that  you,  being  supreme  ma- 
gistrates, 
Thus  contumeliously  should  break  the  peace  ! 
Glo.  Peace,  mayor ;    thou  know'st  little  of  my 
wrongs : 
Here's  Beaufort,  that  regards  nor  God  nor  king. 
Hath  here  distrain'd  the  Tower  to  his  use. 

Win.  Here's  Gloster  too,  a  foe  to  citizens^; 
One  that  still  motions  war  and  never  peace, 
,0'ercharging  your  free  purses  with  large  fines; 
That  seeks  to  overthrow  rehgion, 
Because  he  is  protector  of  the  realm  ; 
And  would  have  armour  here  out  of  the  Tower, 
To  crown  himself  king,  and  suppress  the  prince. 
Glo.  I  will  not    answer  thee    with   words,  but 
blows.  \_Here  they  skirmish  again. 

May.  Nought  rests  for  me,  in  this  tumultuous 
strife, 

9  —  Winchester  goose,]  A  strumpet,  or  the  consequences  of 
her  love,  was  a  Winchester  goose.     Johnson. 

*  — a  rope!  a  rope!]  See  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  vol.  iv. 
p.  238,  n.  7.     Malone. 

^  — out,  SCARLET  hypocrite  !]  Thus,  in  King  Henry  VIII. 
the  Earl  of  Surrey,  with  a  similar  allusion  to  Cardinal  Wolsey's 
habit,  calls  him — "  scarlet  sin."     Steevens. 

3  —  the  Mayor  of  London,']  I  learn  from  Mr.  Pennant's 
London,  that  this  Mayor  was  John  Coventry,  an  opulent  mercer, 
from  whom  is  descended  the  present  Earl  of  Coventry. 

Steevens. 

4  Here's  Gloster  too,  &c.]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The  first 
folio,  with  less  spirit  of  reciprocation,  and  feebler  metre, — Here 
is  Gloster,  &c.     Steevens. 

VOL.  XVIII.  D 


34  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

But  to  make  open  proclamation : — 
Come,  officer ;  as  loud  as  e'er  thou  can'st. 

Off.  All  manner  of  men,  assembled  here  in  arms 
this  day,  against  God's  peace  and  the  kings,  ive 
charge  and  command  you,  in  his  highness'  name, 
to  repair  to  your  several  dzrelling-places  ;  andtiot 
to  wear,  handle,  or  use,  any  szvord,  weapon,  or 
dagger,  lienceforzvard,  upon  pain  of  death. 

Glo.  Cardinal,  I'll  be  no  breaker  of  the  law  : 
But  we  shall  meet,  and  break  our  minds  at  large. 

JViN.  Gloster,  we'll  meet ;  to  thy  dear  cost,  be 
sure : ^ 
Thy  heart- blood  I  will  have  for  this  day's  work. 

May.   I'll  call  for  clubs,  if  you  will  not  away  ^' : — 
This  cardinal  is  more  haughty  than  the  devil. 

Glo.  Mayor,  farewell :  thou  dost  but  what  thou 
may'st. 

Win.  Abominable  Gloster !  guard  thy  head  ; 
For  I  intend  to  have  it,  ere  long.  \_E.veunt. 

May.  See  the  coast  clear  d,  and  then  we  will  de- 
part.— 
Good  God!  that  nobles  should  such  stomachs"  bear! 
I  myself  fight  not  once  in  forty  year  ^        [E.veunt. 

5  Gloster,  we'll  meet ;  to  thy  dear  cost,  be  sure  :]  Thus  the 
second  folio.     The  first  omits  the  epither — dear.     Steevens. 

^  I'll  call  for  CLUBS,  if  you  will  not  away  :]  This  was  an 
outcry  for  assistance,  on  any  riot  or  quarrel  in  the  streets.  It 
hath  been  explained  before.     VVhalley. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VIII. :  "  — and  hit  that  woman,  who  cried 
out,  clubs!"    Steevens. 

That  is,  for  peace-officers  armed  with  clubs  or  staves.  In 
affrays,  it  was  customary  in  this  author's  time  to  cull  out  clubs, 
clubs  I  Sec  As  You  Like  It,  vol.  vi.  p.  490,  n.  3.     Malone. 

7  — stomachs — ]  Stomach  is  pride,  a  haughty  spirit  of  re- 
sentment.    So,  in  King  Henry  VIII. : 

" he  was  a  man 

"  Of  an  unbounded  stomach •."     Steevens. 

5 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  35 

SCENE  IV. 
France.     Before  Orleans. 

Enter,  on  the  Walls,  the  Master -Gunner  and  his 

Son. 
M.  Gu]sr.  Sirrah,  thou  know'st  how  Orleans  is  be- 
sieg  d ; 
And  how  the  English  have  the  suburbs  won. 

Son.  Father,  I  know  ;  and  oft  have  shot  at  them, 
Howe'er,  unfortunate,  I  miss'd  my  aim. 

M.  Gun.  But  now  thou  shalt  not.     Be  thou  ruVd 
by  me  : 
Chief  master-gunner  am  I  of  this  town  ; 

^  —  THAT  nobles  should  such  stomachs  bear  ! 
I    myself  fight  not   once   in  forty  year.]     Old  copy — these 
nobles.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rovve.     Malone. 

The  Mayor  of  London  was  not  brought  in  to  be  laughed  at,  as 
is  plain  by  his  manner  of  interfering  in  the  quarrel,  where  he  all 
along  preserves  a  sufficient  dignity.  In  the  line  preceding  these, 
he  directs  his  Officer,  to  whom  without  doubt  these  two  lines 
should  be  given.  They  suit  his  character,  and  are  very  expressive 
of  the  pacific  temper  of  the  city  guards.     Warburton. 

I  see  no  reason  for  this  change.  The  Mayor  speaks  first  as  a 
magistrate,  and  afterwards  as  a  citizen.     Johnson. 

Notwithstanding  Warburton's  note  in  support  of  the  dignity  of 
the  Mayor,  Shakspeare  certainly  meant  to  represent  him  as  a  poor, 
well-meaning,  simple  man,  for  that  is  the  character  he  invariably 
gives  to  his  Mayors.  The  Mayor  of  London,  in  Richard  IIL  is 
just  of  the  same  stamp.  And  so  is  the  Mayor  of  York,  in  the 
Third  Part  of  this  play,  where  he  refuses  to  admit  Edward  as 
King,  but  lets  him  into  the  city  as  Duke  of  York,  on  which 
Gloster  says — 

"  A  wise  stout  captain  !  and  persuaded  soon. 

"  Hast.  The  good  old  man  would  fain  that  all  were  well." 

Such  are  all  Shakspeare's  Mayors.     M.  Mason. 

Such  seems  to  have  been  the  general  representation  of  mayors 
on  our  ancient  stage.  Kempe,  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus, 
describes  himself  as  being  accustomed  to  play  a  foolish  mayor. 

Malone. 
D   2 


36  FIRST  PART  OF  act  /. 

Something  I  must  do  to  procure  me  grace. 

The  prince's  espials  ^  have  informed  me, 

How  the  Enghsh,  in  the  suburbs  close  intrench'd. 

Wont,  through  a  secret  grate  of  iron  bars 

In  yonder  tower,  to  overpeer  the  city ' ; 

And  thence  discover,  how,  with  most  advantage. 

They  may  vex  us,  with  shot,  or  with  assault. 

To  intercept  this  inconvenience, 

A  piece  of  ordnance  'gainst  it  I  have  plac'd; 

And  fully  even  these  three  days  have  I  watch'd. 

If  I  could  see  them. 

Now,  do  thou  watch,  for  I  can  stay  no  longer  ^. 

9  The  prince's  espials — ]  Espials  are  spies.  So,  in  Chaucer's 
Freres  Tale : 

"  For  subtilly  he  had  his  espinille."     Steevens. 

The  word  is  often  used  by  Hall  and  Holinshed.     Malone. 

'  Wont,  through  a  secret  grate  of  iron  bars,  8iC.]  Old  copy 
— tveni.     See  the  notes  that  follow  Dr.  Johnson's.     Steevens. 

That  is,  the  English  '  went  not  through  a  secret  grate,'  but 
•  went  to  over-peer  the  city  through  a  secret  grate  xvhich  is  in 
yonder  tower.'  I  did  not  know  till  of  late  that  this  passage  had 
been  thought  difficult,     Johnson. 

1  believe,  instead  of  ivent,  we  should  read — wont.  The  third 
person  plural  of  the  old  verb  wont.     The  English — xvont,  that  is, 

are  accustomed to  over-peer  the  citi/.     The  word  is  used   very 

frequently  by  Spenser,  and  several  times  by  Milton.    Tykwhitt. 

The  emendation  proposed  by  Mr.  Tyrvvhitt  is  fully  supported  by 
the  passage  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  on  which  this  speech  is  formed. 

So,  in  The  Arraignment  of  Paris,  1584  : 

" the  usual  time  is  nie, 

"  When  wont  the  dames  of  fate  and  destinie 

"  In  robes  of  chearfull  colour  to  repair ."     Malone, 

2  — Now,  BOY,  do  thou  watch. 

For  I  can  stay  no  longer.]     The  first  folio  reads  : 
"  And  even  these  three  days  have  I  watcht 
"  If  I  could  see  them.     Now  do  thou  watch, 
"  For  I  can  stay  no  longer."     Steevens. 
Part  of  this  line  being  in  the  old  copy,  by  a  mistake  of  the 
transcriber,  connected  with  the  preceding  hemistich,  the  editor  of 
the  second  folio  supplied  the  metre  by  adding  the  word — boi/,  in 
which  he  has  been  followed  in  all  the  subsequent  editions. 

Malone. 


sc.  /r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  37 

If  thou  spy'st  any,  run  and  bring  me  word; 

And  thou  shalt  find  me  at  the  governor's.       [^E.rit. 

Son.  Father,  I  warrant  you ;  take  you  no  care ; 
I'll  never  trouble  you,  if  I  may  spy  them. 

Enter  in  an  upper  Chamber  of  a  Tower,  the  Lords 
Salisbury  atid  Talbot^,  Sir  William  Glans- 
DALE,  Sir  Thomas  Gargrave,  and  Others. 

Sal.  Talbot,  my  life,  my  joy,  again  return'd  ! 
How  wert  thou  handled,  being  prisoner  ? 
Or  by  what  means  got'st  thou  to  be  releas'd  ? 
Discourse,  I  pr'ythee,  on  this  turret's  top. 

Tal.  The  duke  of  Bedford  had  a  prisoner. 
Called — the  brave  lord  Ponton  de  Santrailes; 
For  him  I  was  exchang'd  and  ransomed. 
But  with  a  baser  man  of  arms  by  far, 
Once,  in  contempt,  they  would  have  barter'd  me : 
Which  I,  disdaining,  scorn'd ;  and  craved  death 
Rather  than  I  would  be  so  vile-esteem'd^. 


As  I  cannot  but  entertain  a  more  favourable  opinion  than  Mr. 
Malone  of  the  numerous  emendations  that  appear  in  the  second 
folio,  I  have  again  adopted  its  regulation  in  the  present  instance. 
This  folio  likewise  supplied  the  woxA—Jidlij .     Steevens. 

3  —  Talbot,']  Though  the  three  parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  are 
deservedly  numbered  among  the  feeblest  performances  of  Shak- 
speare,  this  first  of  them  appears  to  have  been  received  with  the 
greatest  applause.  So,  in  Pierce  Penniless's  Supplication  to  the 
Devil,  by  Nash,  1592  :  "  How  would  it  have  joyed  brave  Talbot 
(the  terror  of  the  French,)  to  thinke  that  after  he  had  lien  two 
hundred  years  in  his  tombe,  he  should  triumpli  againe  on  the 
stage,  and  have  his  bones  new  embalmed  with  the  teares  of  ten 
thousand  spectators  at  least  (at  several  times,)  who  in  the  trage- 
dian that  represents  his  person,  imagine  they  behold  him  fresh 
bleeding?"     Steevens. 

4  —  so  pil'd  esteem'd.]  Thus  the  old  copy.  Some  of  the 
modern  editors  read,  but  without  authority — "  so  w7e-esteem'd." 
— Sopill'd,  may  mean — so  pillagd,  so  strifp'd  of  honours  ;  but  I 
suspect  a  corruption,  which  Mr,  M.  Mason  would  remedy,  by 
reading  either  vile  or  f/Z-esteemed. 

It  is  possible,  however,  that  Shakspeare  might  have  written — 


38  FIRST  PART  OF  avt  i. 

In  fine,  redeem'd  I  was  as  I  desir'd. 

But,  O !  the  treacherous  Fastolfe  wounds  my  heart ! 

Whom  with  my  bare  fists  I  would  execute, 

If  I  now  had  him  brought  into  my  power. 

Sal.  Yet  tell'st  thou  not,  how  thou  wert  enter- 

tain'd. 
Tal.  With  scoffs,  and  scorns,  and  contumelious 

taunts. 
In  open  market-place  produc'd  they  me, 
To  be  a  publick  spectacle  to  all ; 
Here,  said  they,  is  the  terror  of  the  French, 

Philistin\l;  i.  e.  treated  as  contumeliously  as  Samson  was  by  the 
Fhilislines. — Both  Samson  and  Talbot  had  been  prisoners,  and 
were  alike  insulted  by  their  captors. 

Our  author  has  jocularly  formed  more  than  one  verb  from  a 
proper  name ;  as  for  instance,  from  Aufidius,  in  Coriolanus  : 
"  —  I  would  not  have  been  fio  Jidi.us'd  for  all  the  chests  in  Corioli." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  V.  Pistol  says  to  his  prisoner :  "  Master 
Fer?  VWfer  him,"  &c.  Again,  in  Hamlet,  from  Herod,  we  have 
the  verb  "  oui-herod." 

Shakspeare,  therefore,  in  the  present  instance,  might  have 
taken  a  similar  liberty. — To  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Philistines 
has  long  been  a  cant  phrase,  expressive  of  danger  incurred,  whe- 
ther from  enemies,  association  with  hard  drinkers,  gamesters,  or 
a  less  welcome  acquaintance  with  the  harpies  of  the  law. 

Talbot's  idea  would  be  sufficiently  expressed  by  the  term — Phi- 
listin'd,  which  (as  the  play  before  us  appears  to  have  been  copied 
by  the  ear,)  was  more  liable  to  corruption  than  a  common  verb. 

I  may  add,  that  perhaps  no  word  will  be  found  nearer  to  the 
sound  and  traces  of  the  letters,  mpil-esteem'd,  than  Phiiistin'd. 

Philistine,  in  the  age  of  Shakspeare,  was  always  accented  on  the 
first  syllable,  and  therefore  is  not  injurious  to  the  line  in  which  I 
have  hesitatingly  proposed  to  insert  it. 

I  cannot,  however,  help  smiling  at  my  own  conjecture ;  and 
should  it  excite  the  same  sensation  in  the  reader  who  journeys 
through  the  barren  desert  of  our  accumulated  notes  on  this  play, 
like  Addison's  traveller,  when  he  discovers  a  cheerful  spring  amid 
the  wilds  of  sand,  let  him — 

.  "  — —  bless  his  stars,  and  think  it  luxury."     Steevens. 

I  think  vile-esteem' d  was  the  author's  word.  We  meet  with  it 
again  in  his  121st  Sonnet : 

"  'Tis  better  to  be  vile  than  vile-esteem' d."     Malone. 


sc.ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  39 

The  scare-crow  that  affrights  our  children  so  \ 

Then  broke  I  from  the  officers  that  led  me  ; 

And  with  my  nails  digg'd  stones  out  of  the  ground, 

To  hurl  at  the  beholders  of  my  shame. 

My  grisly  countenance  made  others  fly ; 

None  durst  come  near  for  fear  of  sudden  death. 

In  iron  walls  they  deem'd  me  not  secure ; 

So  great  fear  of  my  name  'mongst  them  was  spread, 

That  they  suppos'd,  I  could  rend  bars  of  steel. 

And  spurn  in  pieces  posts  of  adamant : 

Wherefore  a  guard  of  chosen  shot  I  had, 

That  walk'd  about  me  every  minute -while  ; 

And  if  I  did  but  stir  out  of  my  bed, 

Ready  they  were  to  shoot  me  to  the  heart. 

Sal.  I  grieve  to  hear  what  torments  you  endur'd ; 
But  we  will  be  reveng'd  sufficiently. 
Now  it  is  supper-time  in  Orleans : 
Here  thorough  this  grate,  I  count  each  one  ^, 
And  view  the  Frenchmen  how  they  fortify ; 
Let  us  look  in,  the  sight  will  much  delight  thee. — 
Sir  Thomas  Gargrave,  and  sir  William  Glansdale, 
Let  me  have  your  express  opinions. 
Where  is  best  place  to  make  our  battery  next. 

Gar.  I  think,  at  the  north  gate  ;  for  there  stand 
lords. 


s  —  the  TERROR  of  the  French, 
The  scare-crow  that  affrights  our  children  so.]  From  Hall's 
Chronicle  :  "  This  man  [TalbotJ  was  to  the  French  people  a  very 
scourge  and  a  daily  terror,  insomuch  that  as  his  person  was  fear- 
ful, and  terrible  to  his  adversaries  present,  so  his  name  and  fume 
was  spiteful  and  dreadful  to  the  common  people  absent ;  insomuch 
that  women  in  France  to  feare  their  yong  children,  would  crye, 
the  Talbot  commeth,  the  Talbot  commeth."  The  same  thing  is 
said  of  King  Richard  I.  when  he  was  in  the  Holy  Land.  See 
Camden's  Remaines,  4to.  1614,  p.  267.     Malone. 

<5  Here,  through  this  grate,  I  can  count  every  one,]     Thus 
the  second  folio.     The  first,  very  harshly  and  unmetrically,  reads : 
"  Here,  thorough  this  grate,  I  count  each  one." 

Steevens. 


40  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

Gljn.  And  I,  here,  at  the  bulwark  of  the  bridge. 
Tal.  For  aught  I  see,  this  city  must  be  famish'd. 
Or  with  light  skirmishes  enfeebled'', 

\8hot  from  the  Town.     Salisbury  and  Sir 

ThO.    GARGRAVEJaU. 

Sal.  O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  us,  wretched  sinners ! 

Gar.  O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  me,  woeful  man  ! 

Tal.   What  chance  is  this,   that  suddenly  hath 
cross'd  us  ? — 
Speak,  Salisbury ;  at  least,  if  thou  canst  speak  ; 
How  far'st  thou,  mirror  of  all  martial  men  ? 
One  of  thy  eyes,  and  thy  cheek's  side  struck  off  ^! — 
Accursed  tower !  accursed  fatal  hand, 
That  hath  contriv'd  this  woeful  tragedy ! 
In  thirteen  battles  Salisbury  o'ercame  ; 
Henry  the  fifth  he  first  train'd  to  the  wars ; 
Whilst  any  trump  did  sound,  or  drum  struck  up. 
His  sword  did  ne'er  leave  striking  in  the  field. — 
Yet  liv'st  thou,  Salisbury  ?  though  thy  speech  doth 

fail. 
One  eye  thou  hast,  to  look  to  heaven  for  grace  ^ : 
The  sun  with  one  eye  vieweth  all  the  world. — 
Heaven,  be  thou  gracious  to  none  alive, 
If  Salisbury  wants  mercy  at  thy  hands ! — 
Bear  hence  his  body,  I  will  help  to  bury  it. — 
Sir  Thomas  Gargrave,  hast  thou  any  life  ? 
Speak  unto  Talbot ;  nay,  look  up  to  him. 

'  —  enfeebled.]  This  word  is  here  used  as  a  quadrisyllable 
[as  Mr.  Capell  has  observed].     Malone. 

^  —  thy  cheek's  side  struck  off!]  Camden  says,  in  his  Re- 
maines,  that  the  French  scarce  knew  the  use  of  great  ordnance, 
till  the  siege  of  Mans  in  1455,  when  a  breach  was  made  in  the 
walls  of  that  town  by  the  English,  under  the  conduct  of  this  earl 
of  Salisbury ;  and  that  he  was  the  first  English  gentleman  that 
was  slain  by  a  cannon-ball.     Malone. 

9  One  eye  thou  hast,  &c.]  A  similar  thought  occurs  in  King 
Lear  : 

my  lord,  you  have  one  eye  left^ 


k« ' 


ro  see  some  mischief  on  him."     Steeyens. 


sc.  IV.  KING  HENRY  VI.  41 

Salisbury,  cheer  thy  spirit  with  this  comfort ; 

Thou  shalt  not  die,  whiles ■ 

He  beckons  with  his  hand,  and  smiles  on  me ; 
As  who  should  say,  When  I  am  dead  and  gone. 
Remember  to  avens:e  me  on  the  French. — 
Plantagenet,  I  will ;  and  like  thee,  Nero  \ 
Play  on  the  lute,  beholding  the  towns  burn : 
Wretched  shall  France  be  only  in  my  name. 

[Thunder  heard;  afterivards  an  Alarum. 
What  stir  is  this  ?  What  tumult's  in  the  heavens  ? 
Whence  cometh  this  alarum,  and  the  noise  ? 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord,  my  lord,  the   French  have  ga- 
ther'd  head : 
The  Dauphin,  with  one  Joan  la  Pucelle  join'd, — 
A  holy  prophetess,  new  risen  up, — 
Is  come  with  a  great  power  to  raise  the  siege. 

\_Salisbury  groans. 
Tal«    Hear,    hear,    how   dying    Salisbury   doth 
groan ! 
It  irks  his  heart,  he  cannot  be  reveng'd. — 
Frenchmen,  I'll  be  a  Salisbury  to  you  : — 
Pucelle  or  puzzel,  dolphin  or  dogfish  ^, 


'  — and  LIKE  THEE,  Nero,]     The  first  folio  reads  : 

"  Plantagenet,  I  will;  and  like  thee — ."     Steevens. 

In  the  old  copy,  the  word  Nero  is  wanting,  owing  probably  to 
the  transcriber's  not  being  able  to  make  out  the  name.  The 
editor  of  the  second  folio,  with  his  usual  freedom,  altered  the  line 
thus : 

" and  Nero-like  tmll — ."     Malone. 

I  am  content  to  read  with  the  second  folio  (not  conceiving  the 
emendation  in  it  to  be  an  arbitrary  one,)  and  omit  only  the  need- 
less repetition  of  the  word — ikUI.  Surely  there  is  some  absurdity 
in  making  Talbot  address  Plantagenet,  and  invoke  Nero,  in  the 
same  line.     Steevens. 

^  Pucelle  or  puzzel,  dolphin  or  dogfish,]  Pusscl  means 
a  dirty  -wench  or  a  drab,  from  puzza,  i.e.  malus  fietor,  says  Min- 


42  FIRST  PART  OF  act  j. 

Your  hearts  I'll  stamp  out  with  my  horse "s  heels. 
And  make  a  quagmh-e  of  your  mingled  brains. — 
Convey  me  Salisbury  into  his  tent, 
And  then  we'll  try  what  these  dastard  Frenchmen 
dare  '\    \_Exeunt,  bearing  out  the  Bodies. 

sheu.  In  a  translation  from  Steevens's  Apology  for  Herodotus,  in 
1607,  p.  98,  we  read — "  Some  filthy  queans,  especially  owr  puz- 
zles of  Paris,  use  this  other  theft."     Tollet. 

So,  Stubbs,  in  his  Anatomic  of  Abuses,  1595  :  "  No  nor  yet 
any  droye  nor  piizzel  in  the  country  but  will  carry  a  nosegay  in 
her  hand," 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Commendatory  Verses,  prefixed  to  the 
works  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher: 

"  Lady  or  Pusill,  that  wears  mask  or  fan." 
As  for  the  conceit,  miserable  as  it  is,  it  may  be  countenanced 
by  that  of  James  I.  who  looking  at  the  statue  of  Sir  Thomas 
Bodley  in  the  library  at  Oxford.  "  Pii  Thomae  Godly  nomine  in- 
signivit,  eoque  potius  nomine  quam  Bodly,  deinceps  merito  nomi- 
nandum  esse  censuit."  See  Rex  Platonicus,  &c.  edit,  quint. 
Oxon.  1635,  p.  187. 

It  should  be  remembered,  that  in  Shakspeare's  time  the  word 
dauphin  was  always  written  dolphin.     Steevens. 

There  are  frequent  references  to  Pucelle's  name  in  this  play: 

"  I  'scar'd  the  dauphin  and  his  trull." 
Again  : 

"  Scoff  on,  vile  fiend,  and  shameless  courtezan  !  '^ 

Malone. 
3  And   then   we'll  try  what    these   dastard   Frenchmen  dare.] 
Perhaps  the  conjunction — and,  or  the  demonstrative  pronoun — 
these,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  should  be  omitted  at  the  beginning 
of  this  line,  which,  in  my  opinion,  however,  originally  ran  thus  : 
"  Then  try  we  what  these  dastard  Frenchmen  dare." 

Steevens. 


AC.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  43 

SCENE  V. 
The  Same.     Before  one  of  the  Gates. 

Alarum.  Skifinishings .  Tjlbot  purmeth  the  Dau- 
phin, and  driveth  him  in :  then  enter  Joan  la 
PucELLE,  driuing  Englishmen  before  her.  Then 
enter  Talbot. 

Tal.  Where  is  my  strength,  my  valour,  and  my 
force  ? 

Our  EngHsh  troops  retire,  I  cannot  stay  them  ; 

A  woman,  clad  in  armour,  chaseth  them. 

Enter  La  Pucelle. 

Here,   here  she  comes : I'll  have  a  bout  with 

thee ; 
Devil,  or  devil's  dam,  I'll  conjure  thee  : 
Blood  will  I  draw  on  thee  "*,  thou  art  a  witch. 
And  straightway  give  thy  soul  to  him  thou  serv'st. 

Puc.  Come,  come,  'tis  only  I  that  must  disgrace 
thee.  [Theyjight. 

Tal.  Heavens,  can  you  suffer  hell  so  to  prevail  ? 
My  breast  I'll  burst  with  straining  of  my  courage. 
And  from  my  shoulders  crack  my  arms  asunder. 
But  I  will  chastise  this  high-minded  strumpet. 

Puc.  Talbot,  farewell ;  thy  hour  is  not  yet  come  : 
I  must  go  victual  Orleans  forthwith. 
O'ertake  me,  if  thou  canst;  I  scorn  thy  strength. 
Go,  go,  cheer  up  thy  hunger-starved  ^  men ; 
Help  Salisbury  to  make  his  testament : 

4  Blood  will  I  draw  on  thee,]  The  superstition  of  those 
times  taught  that  he  that  could  draw  the  witch's  blood,  was  free 
from  her  power.     Johnson. 

5  —  HUNGER-starved  — ]  The  same  epithet  is,  I  think,  used 
by  Shakspeare,  [Henry  VI.  P.  III.  Act  I.  Sc.  IV.]  The  old  copy 
has — A?<»^ry-starved.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe,     Malone. 

Why  not  hungry,  starved,  without  the  hyphen?     Boswell. 


44  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

This  day  is  ours,  as  many  more  shall  be. 

\FucELLE  enters  the  Town,  with  Soldiers. 
Tal.  My   thoughts    are  whirled  like  a  potter's 

wheel  ^  ; 
I  know  not  where  I  am,  nor  what  I  do : 
A  witch,  by  fear  \  not  force,  hke  Hannibal, 
Drives  back  our  troops,  and  conquers  as  she  lists : 
So  bees   with  smoke,    and    doves   with  noisome 

stench. 
Are  from  their  hives,  and  houses,  driven  away. 
They  call'd  us,  for  our  fierceness,  English  dogs ; 
Now,  like  to  whelps,  we  crying  run  away. 

\_A  short  Alarum. 
Hark,  countrymen  !  either  renew  the  fight. 
Or  tear  the  lions  out  of  England's  coat ; 
Renounce  your  soil,  give  sheep  in  lions'  stead  : 
Sheep  run  not  half  so  timorous  ^  from  the  wolf. 
Or  horse,  or  oxen,  from  the  leopard, 
As  you  fly  from  your  oft-subdued  slaves. 

[Alarum.     Another  skirmish. 
It  will  not  be  : — Retire  into  your  trenches : 
You  all  consented  unto  Salisbury's  death. 
For  none  would  strike  a  stroke  in  his  revenge. — 
Pucelle  is  entered  into  Orleans, 
In  spite  of  us,  or  aught  that  we  could  do. 
O,  would  1  were  to  die  with  vSalisbury  I 
The  shame  hereof  will  make  me  hide  my  head. 

[Alarum.     Retreat.     E.veuut  Talbot  and 
his  Forces,  8^c. 

^  —LIKE   A  potter's  wheel;]     This  idea  might  have  been 

caught  from  Psahn  Ixxxiii.  13:   " Make  them  like  unto  a 

iv/ieel,  and  as  the  stubble  before  the  wind."     Steevens. 

7  — by  fear,  &c.]  See  Hannibal's  stratagem  to  escape  by 
fixing  bundles  of  lighted  twigs  on  the  horns  of  oxen,  recorded  in 
Livy,  lib.  xxii.  c.  xvi.     Holt  White. 

*  — so  TiMOKous — ]  Old  copy — treacherous.  Corrected  by 
Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 


sc.  Fj.  KING  HENRY  VI.  45 

SCENE  VI. 

The  Same. 

Enter,  on  the  Walls,  Pucelle,  Charles,  Reignieii, 
Alencon,  and  Soldiers. 

Puc.  Advance  our  waving  colours  on  the  walls  ; 
Rescu'd  is  Orleans  from  the  English  ^ : — 
Thus  Joan  la  Pucelle  hath  perform'd  her  word. 

Ch.ir.  Divinest  creature,    Astrsea's  daughter. 
How  shall  I  honour  th  ee  for  this  success  .^ 
Thy  promises  are  like  Adonis'  gardens  \ 


9  — from  the  English  WOLVES,  &c.]  Thus  the  second  folio. 
The  first  omits  the  word — voolves.     Steevens. 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio^  not  perceiving  that  Eiiglish  was 
used  as  a  trisyllable,  arbitrarily  reads — English  ivolves  ;  in  which 
he  has  been  followed  by  all  the  subsequent  editors.  So,  in  the 
next  line  but  one,  he  reads — bright  Astrcea,  not  observing  that 
Astrcea,  by  a  licentious  pronunciation,  was  used  by  the  author 
of  this  play,  as  if  written  Astercca.  So  monstrozis  is  made  a  tri- 
syllable ; — monsterous.  See  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  note,  Two  Gentlemen 
of  Verona,  vol.  iv.  p.  31,  and  p.  137.     Malone. 

Here  again  I  must  follow  the  second  folio,  to  which  we  are 
indebted  for  former  and  numerous  emendations  received  even  by 
Mr.  Malone. 

Shakspeare  has  frequently  the  same  image.  So,  the  French  in 
King  Henry  V.  speaking  of  the  English :  "  They  will  eat  like 
tvolves,  and  fight  like  devils." 

If  Pucelle,  by  this  term,  does  not  allude  to  the  hunger  or 
fierceness  of  the  English,  she  refers  to  the  ivolves  by  which  their 
kingdom  was  formerly  infested.  So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.: 
"  Peopled  with  ivolves,  thy  old  inhabitants." 

As  no  example  of  the  proper  name — Astrcea,  pronounced  as  a 
quadrisyllable,  is  given  by  Mr.  Malone,  or  has  occurred  to  me,  I 
also  think  myself  authorized  to  receive — bright,  the  necessary 
epithet  supplied  by  the  second  folio.     Steevens. 

'  — like  Adonis' gardens,]  It  may  not  be  impertinent  to  take 
notice  of  a  dispute  between  four  criticks,  of  very  different  orders, 
upon  this  very  important  point  of  the  "  gardens  of  Adonis."  Mil- 
ton had  said  : 


4G  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

That  one  day  bloom'd,  and  fruitful  were  the  next. — 
France,  triumph  in  thy  glorious  prophetess  ! — 


"  Spot  more  delicious  than  those  gardens  feign'd, 

"  Or  of  reviv'd  Adonis,  or ." 

which  Dr.  Bentley  pronounces  spurious;    "  for  that  the  Kyitcoi 
ASwvjS'oj,  the  gardens  of   Adonis,    so   frequently   mentioned  by 
Greek  writers,   Plato,   Plutarch,  &c.  were  nothing  but  portable 
earthen  pots,   with  some  lettice  or  fennel  growing  in  them.     On 
his  yearly  festival  every  woman  carried  one  of  thera  for  Adonis's 
worship  ;  because  Venus  had  once  laid  him  in  a  lettice  bed.    The 
next  day  tliey  were  thrown  away,"  &c.     To  this  Dr.  Pearce  re- 
plies,  "  That  this  account  of  the  gardens  of  Adonis  is  right,  and 
yet  Milton  may  be  defended  for  what  he  says  of  them  :  for  why 
(says  he)  did  the  Grecians  on  Adonis'  festival  carry  these  small 
gardens  about  in  honour  of  him  ?    It  was,  because  they  had  a  tra- 
dition, that,  when  he  was  alive,  he  delighted  in  gardens,  and  had 
a  magnificent  one  :  for  proof  of  this  we  have  Pliny's  words,  xix.  4  : 
*  Antiquitas   nihil  prius  mirata  est  quam    Hesperidum  liortos,  ac 
regum  Adonidis  et  Alcinoi.'  "    One  would  now  think  the  question 
well  decided :  but  Mr.  Theobald  comes,  and  will  needs  be  Dr. 
Bentley's  second.     "  A  learned  and  reverend  gentleman  (says  he) 
having  attempted  to  impeach  Dr.  Bentley  of  error,  for  maintain- 
ing that  there  never   was  existent  any  magnificent  or  spacious 
gardens  of  Adonis,  an  opinion  in  which   it  has  been  my  fortune 
to  second  the    Doctor,    I  thought  myself  concerned,     in    some 
part,  to  weigh  those   authorities   alledged  by  the  objector,"  &c. 
The  reader  sees  that  Mr.  Theobald  mistakes  the  very  question  in 
dispute  between  these  two  truly  learned  men,  which  was  not  whe- 
ther Adonis'  gardens  were  ever  existent,  but   whether  there  was 
a  tradition  of  any  celebrated  gardens  cultivated  by  Adonis.     For 
this  would  sufficiently  justify  Milton's  mention  of  them,  together 
with  the  gardens  of  Alcinous,  confessed   by  the  poet  himself  to 
be  fabulous.     But  hear  their  own  words.     "  There   was  no  such 
garden  (says  Dr.  Bentley)  ever  existent,  or  never  feignd."     He 
adds  the  latter  part,  as  knowing  that  that  would  justify  the  poet ; 
audit  is  on  that  assertion  only  that  his  adversary  Dr.  Pearce  joins 
issue  with  him.     "  Why  (says  he)  did  they  carry  the  small  earthen 
gardens  ?  It  was  because  they  had  a  tradition,  that  when  alive  he 
delighted  in  gardens."     Mr.  Theobald,   therefore,    mistaking  the 
question,  it  is  no  wonder  that  all  lie  says,  in  his  long  note  at  the 
end  of  his  fourth   volume,   is  nothing  to  the  purpose  ;  it  being 
to  show  that  Dr.   Pearce's  quotations  from   Pliny  and   others,  do 
not  prove  the  real  existence  of  the  gardens.     After  these,  comes 
the  Oxford  editor ;  and  he  jxonounccs  in   favour  of  Dr.  Bentley, 
against  Dr.  Pearce,    in  these  words,  "  The  gardens  of  Adonis 


sc.  ri.  KING  HENRY  VI.  47 

Recover'd  is  the  town  of  Orleans : 

More  blessed  hap  did  ne'er  befall  our  state. 

Rejg.  Why  ring  not  out  the  bells  aloud  through- 
out the  town  -  ? 
Dauphin,  command  the  citizens  make  bonfires. 
And  feast  and  banquet  in  the  open  streets, 
To  celebrate  the  joy  that  God  hath  given  us. 

Alen.  All  France  will  be  replete  with  mirth  and 

joy, 

When  they  shall  hear  how  we  have  play'd  the  men. 
Char.  'Tis  Joan,  not  we,   by  whom  the  day  is 
won ; 
For  which,  I  will  divide  my  crown  with  her : 
And  all  the  priests  and  friars  in  my  realm 
Shall,  in  procession,  sing  her  endless  praise. 
A  statelier  pyramis  to  her  111  rear, 
Than  Rhodope's  '\  or  Memphis',  ever  was  : 

were  never  represented  under  any  local  description."  But  whe- 
ther this  was  said  at  hazard,  or  to  contradict  Dr.  Pearce,  or  to 
rectify  Mr.  Theobald's  mistake  of  the  question,  it  is  so  obscurely 
expressed,  that  one  can  hardly  determine.     Warburton. 

The  proverb  alluded  to,  seem  always  to  have  been  used  in  a 
bad  sense,  for  things  which  make  a  fair  show  for  a  few  days  and 
then  wither  away:  but  the  author  of  this  play,  desirous  of  making 
a  shew  of  his  learning,  without  considering  its  propriety,  has 
made  the  Dauphin  apply  it  as  an  encomium.  There  is  a  very 
good  account  of  it  in  Erasmus's  Adagia.     Blakeway. 

^  Whv  ring  not  out  the  bells  throughout  the  town  ?]     The  old 
copv,  unnecessarily  as  well  as  redundantly,  reads— 
"  Why  ring  not  out  the  bells  aloud,''  &c. 

Bnt  if  the  bells  rang  out,  they  must  have  rang  aloud;  for  to  ring 
out,  as  I  am  informed,  is  a  technical  term  with  that  signification. 
The  disagreeable  jingle,  however,  of  out  and  ivithout,  induces  me 
to  suppose  the  line  originally  stood  thus  : 

"  Why  ring  not  bells  aloud  throughout  the  town?" 

Steevens. 

3  Than  Rhodope's,]  Rhodope  was  a  famous  strumpet,  who 
acquired  great  riches  by  her  trade.  The  least  but  most  finished 
of  the  Egyptian  pyramids  (says  Pliny,  in  the  36th  book  of  his 
Natural  History,  ch.  xii.)  was  built  by  her.  She  is  said  afterwards 
to  have  married  Psammetichus,  King  of  Egypt. 

Rhodope  is  mentioned  in  the  play  of  The  Costly  Whore,  1633 : 


48  FIRST  PART  OF  act  i. 

In  memory  of  her,  when  she  is  dead, 
Her  ashes,  in  an  urn  more  precious 
Than  the  rich-jewel'd  coffer  of  Darius  ^ 


a  base  Rhodope, 


"  Whose  body  is  as  common  as  the  sea 
"  In  the  receipt  of  every  lustful  spring." 

I  would  read  [as  Mr.  Capell  has  proposed]  : 

"  Than  Rhodope's  of  Memphis  ever  was."     Steevens. 

The  brother  of  Sappho  was  in  love  with  Rhodope,  and  pur- 
chased her  freedom  (for  she  was  a  slave  in  the  same  house  with 
iEsop  the  fabulist)  at  a  great  price.  Rhodope  was  of  Thrace, 
not  of  Memphis.  Memphis,  a  city  of  Egypt,  was  celebrated 
for  its  pyramids  : 

*'  Barbara  Pyramidum  sileat  miracula  Memphis.'" 

Mart.  De  spectaculis  Libel.  Ep.  I.     Malone. 

The  question,  I  apprehend,  is  not  where  Rhodope  was  born, 
but  where  she  obtained  celebrity.  Her  Thracian  birth-place 
would  not  have  rescued  her  from  oblivion.     Steevens 

The  emendation  proposed  by  Mr.  Steevens  must  be  adopted. 
The  meaning  is— not  that  Rhodope  herself  was  of  Memphis,  but 
—that  her  j:iyramis  was  there.  I  will  rear  to  her,  says  the 
Dauphin,  a  pyramid  more  stately  than  that  of  Memphis,  which 
was  called  Rhodope's.  Pliny  says  the  pyramids  were  six  miles 
from  that  city ;  and  that  "  the  fairest  and  most  commended  for 
workmanship  was  built  at  the  cost  and  charges  oi  one  Rhodope,  a 
verie  strumpet."     Ritson. 

4  —  coffer  of  Darius,]  \Vhen  Alexander  the  Great  took  the 
city  of  Gaza,  the  metropolis  of  Syria,  amidst  the  other  spoils  and 
wealth  of  Darius  treasured  up  there,  he  found  an  exceeding  rich 
and  beautiful  little  chest  or  casket,  and  asked  those  about  him 
what  they  thought  fittest  to  be  laid  up  in  it.  When  they  had 
severally  delivered  their  opinions,  he  told  them,  he  esteemed 
nothing  so  worthy  to  be  preserved  in  it  as  Homer's  Iliad.  Vide 
Plutarchum  in  Vita  Alexandri  Magni.     Theobald. 

The  very  vi'ords  of  the  text  are  found  in  Puttenham's  Arte  of 
English  Poesie,  1589  :  "  In  what  price  the  noble  poems  of  Homer 
were  holden  with  Alexander  the  Great,  insomuch  as  everie  night 
they  were  layd  under  his  pillow,  and  by  day  were  carried  in 
the  rich  jexvel  coffer  of  Darius,  lately  before  vanquished  by  him  in 
battaile."     Malone. 

I  believe,  we  should  read  with  Puttenham,  "jewel-coffer," 
and  not,  as  in  the  text,  "  jewel' d-co^'er."  The  jeivel-coffer  of 
Darius  was,   I  suppose,  the  cabinet  in  which  he  kept  his  gems. 

To  a  jeivelled  coffer  (i.  e.  a  coffer  ornamented  with  jeivels)  the 
epithet  rich  would  have  been  superfluous. 


ACTti.  KING  HENRY  VL  49 

Transported  shall  be  at  high  festivals 
Before  the  kings  and  queens  of  France  ^. 
No  longer  on  Saint  Dennis  will  we  cry, 
But  Joan  la  Pucelle  shall  be  France's  saint. 
Come  in ;  and  let  us  banquet  royally, 
After  this  golden  day  of  victory. 

[Flourish.  Exeunt, 


ACT  IL     SCENE  I. 

The  Same. 

Enter  to  the  Gates,  a  French  Sergeant,  aiid  Two 

Sentinels. 

Serg.  Sirs,  take  your  places,  and  be  vigilant : 
If  any  noise,  or  soldier,  you  perceive. 
Near  to  the  walls,  by  some  apparent  sign. 
Let  us  have  knowledge  at  the  court  of  guard  ^. 

1  Sent.  Sergeant,  you  shall.      [E.vit  Sergeant. ~\ 
Thus  are  poor  servitors 
(When  others  sleep  upon  their  quiet  beds,) 
Constrain'd  to  watch  in  darkness,  rain,  and  cold. 

Enter  Talbot,  Bedford,  Burgundy,  and  Forces, 
zvith  scaling  Ladders,  their  Drums  beating  a  dead 
march. 

Tal.  Lord  regent, — and  redoubted  Burgundy, — 

My  conjecture,  however,  deserves  not  much  attention;  be- 
cause Pliny,  lib.  ii.  ch.  29,  informs  us,  that  this  casket,  when 
found,  was  full  of  precious  oils,  and  was  decorated  with  gems  of 
great  value.     Steevens. 

5  Before  the  kings  and  queens  of  France.]     Sir  Thomas  Han- 
mer  supplies  the  obvious  defect  in  this  line,  by  reading — 
"  Ever  before  the  kings,"  &c.     Steevens. 

^  court  of  guard,]     The  same  phrase  occurs  again  in 

Othello,  Antony  and   Cleopatra,  &c.    and  is   equivalent  to  the 
modern  term — guard-room.     Steevens. 
VOL.  XVIII.  E 


50  FIRST  PART  OF  act  lU 

By  whose  approach,  the  regions  of  Artois, 
Walloon  and  Picardy,  are  friends  to  us, — 
This  happy  night  the  Frenchmen  are  secure. 
Having  all  day  carous'd  and  banqueted : 
Embrace  we  then  this  opportunity  ; 
As  fitting  best  to  quittance  their  deceit, 
Contriv'd  by  art,  and  baleful  sorcery. 

Bed.  Coward  of  France  ! — how  much  he  wrongs 
his  fame. 
Despairing  of  his  own  arm's  fortitude, 
To  join  with  witches,  and  the  help  of  hell. 

BvR.  Traitors  have  never  other  company. — 
But  what's  that  Pucelle,  whom  they  term  so  pure  ^ 

Tal.  a  maid,  they  say. 

Bed.  a  maid  !  and  be  so  martial ! 

Bur.    Pray  God,  she  prove  not  masculine   ere 
long; 
If  underneath  the  standard  of  the  French, 
She  carry  armour,  as  she  hath  begun. 

Tal.  Well,  let  them  practise  and  converse  with 
spirits : 
God  is  our  fortress;  in  whose  conquering  name. 
Let  us  resolve  to  scale  their  flinty  bulwarks. 

Bed.  Ascend,  brave  Talbot ;  we  will  follow  thee. 

Tal.  Not  altogether:  better  far,  I  guess, 
That  we  do  make  our  entrance  several  ways ; 
That,  if  it  chance  the  one  of  us  do  fail. 
The  other  yet  may  rise  against  their  force. 

Bed.  Agreed ;  I'll  to  yon  corner. 

Bur.  And  I  to  this. 

Tal.  And  here  will  Talbot  mount,  or  make  his 
grave. — 
Now,  Salisbury  !  for  thee,  and  for  the  right 
Of  English  Henry,  shall,  this  night  appear 
How  much  in  duty  I  am  bound  to  both. 

\The  English  scale  the  fValls,  cjying  St.  George! 
a  Talbot !  and  all  enter  by  the  Town. 


sc.  I  KING  HENRY  VI.  51 

Sent.    \JVithmr\^   Arm,   arm!  the  enemy  doth 
make  assault ! 

The  French  leap  o'ver  the  TValls  in  their  Shirts. 
Enter,  several  ways,  Bastard,  Alencon,  Reig- 
NiER,  half  ready,  and  half  unready. 

Alex.  How  now,  my  lords  ?  what,  all  unready 

so^? 
Bast.  Unready?  ay,  and  glad  we'scap'd  so  well. 
Reig.  'Twas  time,  I  trow,  to  wake  and  leave  our 
beds, 
Hearing  alarums  at  our  chamber  doors  ^. 

Alen.  Of  all  exploits,  since  first  I  follow'd  arms. 
Ne'er  heard  I  of  a  warlike  enterprize 
More  venturous,  or  desperate  than  this. 

Bast.  I  think,  this  Talbot  be  a  fiend  of  hell. 
Reig.  If  not  of  hell,  the  heavens,   sure,  favour 

him, 
Alen.  Here  cometh  Charles ;  I  marvel,  how  he 
sped. 

1  —  UNREADY  SO?]      Unready  was  the  current  word  in  those 
times  for  undressed.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Heywood's  Rape  of  Lucrece,  1638  :  "  Enter  Sixtus  and 
Lucrece  unready." 

Again,  in  The  Two  Maids  of  More-clacke,  1609  : 

"  Enter  James  unreadi/  in  his  night-cap,  garterless,"  &c. 
Again,  in  A  Match  at  Midnight,  1633,  is  this  stage-direction : 

"  He  makes  himself  unready." 
*'  Why  what  do  you  mean  ?  you  will  not  be  so  uncivil  as  to  ww- 
brace  you  here  ? 

Again,  in  Monsieur  D'Olive,  1606  : 

"  You  are  not  going  to  bed,  I  see  you  are  not  yet  unready." 
Again,  in  Heywood's  Golden  Age,  1611  : 
"  Here  Jupiter  puts  out  the  lights,  and  makes  himself  un- 
ready." 

Unready  is  equivalent  to  the  old  French  word — di-pret. 

Steevens. 
^  Hearing  alarums  at  our  chamber  doors.]     So,  in  King  Lear: 
"  Or,  at  the  chamber  door  I'll  beat  the  drum — ." 

Steevens. 
E  2 


52  FIRST  PART  OF  act  u. 


Enter  Charles  and  La  Pucelle. 

Bast.  Tut!  holy  Joan  was  his  defensive  cjuard. 

Char.  Is  this  thy  cunning,  thou  deceitful  dame  ? 
Didst  thou  at  first,  to  flatter  us  withal. 
Make  us  partakers  of  a  little  gain, 
That  now  our  loss  might  be  ten  times  so  much  ? 

Puc.    Wherefore  is   Charles  impatient  with  his 
friend  ? 
At  all  times  will  you  have  my  power  alike  ? 
Sleeping  or  waking,  must  I  still  prevail. 
Or  will  you  blame  and  lay  the  fault  on  me  ? — 
Improvident  soldiers  !  had  your  watch  been  good, 
This  sudden  mischief  never  could  have  falFn . 

Char.  Duke  of  Alen9on,  this  was  your  default ; 
That,  being  captain  of  the  watch  to-night. 
Did  look  no  better  to  that  weighty  charge. 

Alen.   Had  all  your  quarters  been  as  safely  kept. 
As  that  whereof  I  had  the  government, 
We  had  not  been  thus  shamefully  surpriz'd. 

Bast.  Mine  was  secure. 

Reig.  And  so  was  mine,  my  lord. 

Char.    And,  for  myself,  most  part  of   all  this 
night, 
Within  her  quarter,  and  mine  own  precinct, 
I  was  employed  in  passing  to  and  fro. 
About  relieving  of  the  sentinels  : 
Then  how,  or  which  way,  should  they  first  break  in  ? 

Pic.  Question,  my  lords,  no  further  of  the  case, 
How,  or  which  way;  "tis  sure,   they  found  some 

place 
But  weakly  guarded,  where  the  breach  was  made. 
And  now  there  rests  no  other  shift  but  this, — 
To  gather  our  soldiers,  scatter  d  and  dispers'd. 
And  lay  new  platforms'^  to  endamage  them. 

9  — platforms — ]     i.  e.  plans,  schemes.     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  53 

Alarum.  Enter  an  English  Soldier,  crying,  a  Tal- 
bot !  a  Talbot  ^  /  They  fly,  leaving  their  Clothes 
behind. 

Sold.  I'll  be  so  bold  to  take  what  they  have  left. 
The  cry  of  Talbot  serves  me  for  a  sword ; 
For  I  have  loaden  me  with  many  spoils. 
Using  no  other  weapon  but  his  name.  [Exit. 

•  Enter  an  English  Soldier  crying,  a  Talbot  !  a  Talbot  !] 
And  afterwards  : 

"  The  cry  of  Talbot  serves  me  for  a  sword." 

Here  a  popular  tradition,  exclusive  of  any  chronicle-evidence, 
was  in  Shakspeare's  mind.  Edward  Kerke,  the  old  commentator 
on  Spenser's  Pastorals,  first  published  in  1579,  observes  in  his 
notes  on  June,  that  Lord  Talbot's  "  noblenesse  bred  such  a  ter- 
rour  in  the  hearts  of  the  French,  that  oftimes  greate  armies  were 
defaited  and  put  to  flight,  at  the  ojily  hearing  of  his  name:  inso- 
much that  the  French  women,  to  aft'ray  their  children,  would  tell 
them  that  the  Talbot  coyneth."     See  also  Sc.  III.     T.  Warton. 

The  same  is  said  in  Drayton's  Miseries  of  Queen  Margaret,  of 
Lord  Warwick  : 

"  And  still  so  fearful  was  great  IVanvick's  name, 
*'  That  being  once  cry'd  on,  put  them  oft  to  flight, 
"  On  the  king's  army  till  at  length  they  light." 

Steevens. 

In  a  note  on  a  former  passage,  p.  39,  n.  5,  I  have  quoted  a  pas- 
sage from  Hall's  Chronicle,  which  probably  furnished  the  author 
of  this  play  with  this  circumstance.  It  is  not  mentioned  by 
Holinshed,  (Shakspeare's  historian,)  and  is  one  of  the  numerous 
proofs  that  have  convinced  me  that  this  play  was  not  the  produc- 
tion of  our  author.  See  the  Essay  at  the  end  of  The  Third  Part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  It  is  surely  more  probable  that  the  writer  of 
this  play  should  have  taken  this  circumstance  from  the  Chronicle 
which  furnished  him  with  this  plot,  than  from  the  Comment  on 
Spenser's  Pastorals.     Malone. 

This  is  one  of  the  floating  atoms  of  intelligence  which  might 
have  been  orally  circulated,  and  consequently  have  reached  our 
author  through  other  channels,  than  those  of  Spenser's  annotator, 
or  our  English  Chronicler.     Steevens. 


54  FIRST  PART  OF  ^cr  ii 

SCENE    II. 

Orleans.     Within  the  Town. 

Enter  Talbot,   Bedford,   Burgundy,  a  Captain, 

a  fid  Others, 

Bed.  The  day  begins  to  break,  and  night  is  fled. 
Whose  pitchy  mantle  over-veil'd  the  earth. 
Here  sound  retreat,  and  cease  our  hot  pursuit. 

[Retreat  sounded. 

Tal.  Bring  forth  the  body  of  old  Salisbury; 
And  here  advance  it  in  the  market-place. 
The  middle  centre  of  this  cursed  town. — 
Now  have  I  paid  my  vow  unto  his  soul '" ; 
For  every  drop  of  blood  was  drawn  from  him, 
There  hath  at  least  five  Frenchmen  died  to-night. 
And,  that  hereafter  ages  may  behold 
What  ruin  happened  in  revenge  of  him. 
Within  their  chiefest  temple  I'll  erect 
A  tomb,  wherein  his  corpse  shall  be  interr'd  ; 
Upon  the  which,  that  every  one  may  read. 
Shall  be  engrav'd  the  sack  of  Orleans ; 
The  treacherous  manner  of  his  mournful  death. 
And  what  a  terror  he  had  been  to  France. 
But,  lords,  in  all  our  bloody  massacre, 
I  muse,  we  met  not  with  the  Dauphins  grace  ; 
His  new-come  champion,  virtuous  Joan  of  Arc ; 
Nor  any  of  his  false  confederates. 

Bed.  'Tis  thought,  lord  Talbot,  when  the  fight 
began, 
Rous'd  on  the  sudden  from  their  drowsy  beds 

^  Now  have  I  paid  my  vow  unto  his  soul ;  &c.]     So,  in  the  old 
spurious  play  of  King  John  : 

"  Thus  hath  king  Richard's  son  ])erform'd  his  vow, 

"  And  ofter'd  Austria's  blood  for  sacrifice 

"  Unto  his  father's  ever-living  soul."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  55^ 

They  did,  amongst  the  troops  of  armed  men, 
Leap  o'er  the  walls  for  refuge  in  the  field. 

Bur.  Myself  (as  far  as  I  could  well  discern, 
For  smoke,  and  dusky  vapours  of  the  night,) 
Am  sure,  I  scar'd  the  Dauphin,  and  his  trull ; 
When  arm  in  arm  they  both  came  swiftly  running, 
Like  to  a  pair  of  loving  turtle-doves. 
That  could  not  live  asunder  day  or  night. 
After  that  things  are  set  in  order  here. 
We'll  follow  them  with  all  the  power  we  have. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  All  hail,  my  lords !  which  of  this  princely 
train 
Call  ye  the  warlike  Talbot,  for  his  acts 
So  much  applauded  through  the  realm  of  France  ? 

Tal.  Here  is  the  Talbot ;  who  would  speak  with 
him  ? 

Mess.  The  virtuous  lady,  countess  of  Auvergne, 
With  modesty  admixing  thy  renown, 
By  me  entreats,  good  lord,  thou  would'st  vouchsafe 
To  visit  her  poor  castle  where  she  lies  ^ ; 
That  she  may  boast  she  hath  beheld  the  man 
Whose  glory  fills  the  world  with  loud  report. 

Bur.  Is  it  even  so  ?  Nay,  then,  I  see,  our  wars 
Will  turn  unto  a  peaceful  comick  sport. 
When  ladies  crave  to  be  encounter'd  with. — 
You  may  not,  my  lord,  despise  her  gentle  suit. 

Tal.  Ne'er  trust  me  then ;  for  when  a  world  of 
men 
Could  not  prevail  with  all  their  oratory, 
Yet  hath  a  woman's  kindness  over-rul'd : — 
And  therefore  tell  her,  I  return  great  thanks : 
And  in  submission  will  attend  on  her. — 
Will  not  your  honours  bear  me  company  ? 

I  —  where  she  lies  ;]     i.  e.  where  she  dxvells.     Malone, 


56  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ij. 

Bed.  No,  truly ;  it  is  more  than  manners  will : 
And  I  have  heard  it  said, — Unbidden  guests 
Are  often  welcomest  when  they  are  gone. 

Tal.  Well  then,  alone,  since  there's  no  remedy, 
I  mean  to  prove  this  lady's  courtesy. 
Come  hither,  captain.  \lVhispers^ — You  perceive 
my  mind. 
Cjpt.  I  do,  my  lord ;  and  mean  accordingly. 

[Ed'cunt. 

SCENE  III, 
Auvergne.     Court  of  the  Castle. 

Enter  the  Countess  and  her  Porter. 

Count.  Porter,  remember  what  I  gave  in  charge ; 
And,  when  you  have  done  so,  bring  the  keys  to  me, 

Port.  Madam,  I  will.  \Ea:it. 

Count.  The  plot  is  laid :    if  all  things  fall  out 
right, 
I  shall  as  famous  be  by  this  exploit. 
As  Scythian  Thomyris  by  Cyrus'  death. 
Great  is  the  rumour  of  this  dreadful  knight. 
And  his  achievements  of  no  less  account : 
Fain  would  mine  eyes  be  witness  with  mine  ears, 
To  give  their  censure  ^  of  these  rare  reports. 

Enter  Messenger  and  Talbot. 
Mess.  Madam, 
According  as  your  ladyship  desir'd. 
By  message  crav'd,  so  is  lord  Talbot  come. 

Count.  And  he  is  welcome.     What !  is  this  the 
man? 

4  —  their   censure—]      i.  e.   their  opinion.      So,    in    King 
Richard  III. : 

"  And  give  your  censures  in  this  weighty  business." 

Steevens. 


sc.  HI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  57 

Mess.  Madam,  it  is. 

Count.  Is  this  the  scourge  of  France  ? 

Is  this  the  Talbot,  so  much  fear'd  abroad. 
That  with  his  name  the  mothers  still  their  babes  ^  ? 
I  see  report  is  fabulous  and  false  : 
I  thought,  I  should  have  seen  some  Hercules, 
A  second  Hector,  for  his  grim  aspect, 
And  large  proportion  of  his  strong-knit  limbs. 
Alas !  this  is  a  child,  a  silly  dwarf: 
It  cannot  be,  this  weak  and  writhled  ^  shrimp 
Should  strike  such  terror  to  his  enemies. 

T^iL.  Madam,  I  have  been  bold  to  trouble  you  : 
But,  since  your  ladyship  is  not  at  leisure, 
I'll  sort  some  other  time  to  visit  you. 

Count.  What  means    he   now  ? — Go   ask  him, 
whither  he  goes. 

Mess.  Stay,  my  lord  Talbot ;  for  my  lady  craves 
To  know  the  cause  of  your  abrupt  departure. 

T.^L.  Marry,  for  that  she's  in  a  wrong  belief, 
I  go  to  certify  her,  Talbot's  here. 

Re-enter  Porter,  with  Keys. 

Count.  If  thou  be  he,  then  art  thou  prisoner. 
Tal.  Prisoner !  to  whom  ? 

Count.  To  me,  blood-thirsty  lord ; 

And  for  that  cause  I  train'd  thee  to  my  house. 

5  That  with  his  name  the  mothers  still  their  babes  ?]  Dryden 
has  transplanted  this  idea  into  his  Don  Sebastian,  King  of  Portu- 
gal: 

"  Nor  shall  Sebastian's  formidable  name 
"  Be  longer  us'd,  to  lull  the  crying  babe."     Steevens. 
^  —  writhled — ]     i.  e.  wrinkled.     The  word  is  used  by  Spenr 
ser.     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — torizled,  which   has  been  fol- 
lowed in  subsequent  editions.     Malone. 

The  instance  from  Spenser,  is  the  following  : 

"  Her  ivrithled  skin,  as  rough  as  maple  rind." 
Again,  in  Marston's  fourth  Satire,  b.  i. : 

"  Cold,  vorithled  eld,  his  lives-wet  almost  spent." 

Steevens. 


68  FIRST  PART  OF  act  n. 

Long  time  thy  shadow  hath  been  thrall  to  me. 
For  in  my  gallery  thy  picture  hangs  : 
But  now  the  substance  shall  endure  the  like  ; 
And  I  will  chain  these  legs  and  arms  of  thine, 
That  hast  by  tyranny,  these  many  years. 
Wasted  our  country,  slain  our  citizens, 
And  sent  our  sons  and  husbands  captivate  \ 

Tal.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

GouNT.  Laughest  thou,  wretch ;  thy  mirth  shall 
turn  to  moan. 

Tal.  I  laugh  to  see  your  ladyship  so  fond^ 
To  think  that  you  have  aught  but  Talbot's  shadow. 
Whereon  to  practise  your  severity. 

Count.  Why,  art  not  thou  the  man  ? 

Tal.  I  am  indeed. 

Count.  Then  have  I  substance  too. 

Tal.  No,  no,  I  am  but  shadow  of  myself  ^ : 
You  are  deceiv'd,  my  substance  is  not  here ; 
For  what  you  see,  is  but  the  smallest  part 
And  least  proportion  of  humanity  : 
I  tell  you,  madam,  were  the  whole  frame  here. 
It  is  of  such  a  spacious  lofty  pitch. 
Your  roof  were  not  sufficient  to  contain  it. 

Count.    This   is   a    riddling   merchant  for  the 
nonce ' ; 
He  will  be  here,  and  yet  he  is  not  here  : 
How  can  these  contrarieties  agree  ? 

7  —  captivate.]     So,  in  Solyman  and  Persida  ; 
"  If  not  destroy'd  and  bound,  and  captivate, 
"  \^  captivate,  then  forc'd  from  holy  ftiith."     Steevens. 
^  —  so  FOND,]      i.  e.   so  foolish.      So,   in   King  Henry  IV. 
Part  II.  : 

"  Fondly  brought  here,  and  foolishly  sent  hence." 

Steevens. 
9  —  I  am  but  SHADOW  of  myself  :]  So,  in  King  Henry  VIII. : 

"  I  am  \\\^.  shadoiv  of  poor  Buckingham.'"'     Steevens. 
>  This  is  a  riddling  merchant,  &c.]     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  What  saucv  merchant  was  this  ?  " 
See  a  note  on  this  passage,  vol.  vi.  p.  108,  n  7     Steevens. 


sc.ur.  KING  HENRY  VI.  59 

Tal.  That  will  I  show  you  presently  '\ 

He  winds  a  Horn.  Drums  heard;  then  a  Peal  of 
Ordnance.  The  Gates  being  forced,  enter  Sol- 
diers. 

How  say  you,  madam  ?  are  you  now  persuaded. 
That  Talbot  is  but  shadow  of  himself? 
These  are  his  substance,  sinews,  arms,  and  strength. 
With  which  he  yoketh  your  rebellious  necks  ; 
Razeth  your  cities,  and  subverts  your  towns. 
And  in  a  moment  makes  them  desolate. 

Count.  Victorious  Talbot !  pardon  my  abuse : 
I  find,  thou  art  no  less  than  fame  hath  bruited  '\        ^ 
And  more  than  may  be  gather'd  by  thy  shape. 
Let  my  presumption  not  provoke  thy  wrath ; 
For  I  am  sorry,  that  with  reverence 
I  did  not  entertain  thee  as  thou  art. 

Tal.  Be  not  dismay'd  fair  lady ;  nor  misconstrue 
The  mind  of  Talbot,  as  you  did  mistake 
The  outward  composition  of  his  body. 
What  you  have  done  hath  not  offended  me : 
No  other  satisfaction  do  I  crave, 
But  only  (with  your  patience,)  that  we  may 
Tatse  of  your  wine,  and  see  what  cates  you  have  ; 
For  soldiers'  stomachs  always  serve  them  well. 

Count.  With  all  my  heart;  and  think  me  ho- 
noured 
To  feast  so  great  a  warrior  in  my  house.     \^Ej:eimt. 

*  That  will  I  show  you  presently.]     The  deficient  foot  in  this 
line  may  properly  be  supplied,  by  reading : 

'•  That,  madam,  will  I  show  you  presently."     Steevens. 
3  —  bruited,]     To  bruit  is  to  proclaim  tvith  noise,  to  announce 
loudly.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" one  of  greatest  note 

*'  Seems  bruited.'"     Steevens. 


60  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

SCENE  IV. 

London.    The  Temple  Garden. 

Enter  the  Earls  of  Somerset,  Suffolk,  and  JVar- 
tfick;  Richard  Plantagenet,  Vernon,  and 
another  Lawyer  *. 

Plan.  Great  lords,  and  gentlemen,  what  means 
this  silence  .^ 
Dare  no  man  answer  in  a  case  of  truth  .^ 

SvF.  Within  the  Temple  hall  we  were  too  loud ; 
The  garden  here  is  more  convenient. 

Plan.   Then  say    at  once,  if  1  maintain'd  the 
truth  ; 
Or,  else,  was  wrangling  Somerset  in  the  error  ^  ? 

SuF.  'Faith,  I  have  been  a  truant  in  the  law; 
And  never  yet  could  frame  my  will  to  it ; 
And,  therefore,  frame  the  law  unto  my  will. 

Sou.  Judge  you,  my  lord  of  Warwick,  then  be- 
tween us. 
War.  Between  two  hawks,  which  flies  the  higher 
pitch. 
Between  two  dogs,  which  hath  the  deeper  mouth. 
Between  two  blades,  which  bears  the  better  temper. 
Between  two  horses,  which  doth  bear  him  best  ^, 

4  —  and  ANOTHER  'Lawyer'^  Read — a  lawyer.  This  lawyer 
was  probably  Roger  Nevyle,  who  was  afterward  hanged.  See  W. 
Wyrcester,  p.  478.     Ritson. 

5  Or,  else,  was  wrangling  Somerset  in  the  error  ?]  So  all  the 
editions.  There  is  apparently  a  want  of  opposition  between  the 
two  questions.     I  once  read  : 

"  Or  else  was  wrangling  Somerset  i'  tk  right  ?  " 

Johnson. 
Sir  T.  Hanmer  would  read : 

"  And  was  not ."     Steevens, 

*  —  BEAR  HIM  best,]  i.  e.  regulate  his  motions  most  adroitly. 
So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  He  hears  him  like  a  portly  gentleman."     Steevens. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  61 

Between  two  girls,  which  hath  the  merriest  eye, 
I  have,  perhaps,  some  shallow  spirit  of  judgment : 
But  in  these  nice  sharp  quillets  of  the  law. 
Good  faith,  I  am  no  wiser  than  a  daw. 

Plan.  Tut,  tut,  here  is  a  mannerly  forbearance : 
The  truth  appears  so  naked  on  my  side, 
That  any  purblind  eye  may  find  it  out. 

SoM.  And  on  my  side  it  is  so  well  apparelFd, 
So  clear,  so  shining,  and  so  evident, 
That  it  will  glimmer  through  a  Wind  man's  eye. 

Plan.  Since  you  are  tongue-ty'd,  and  so  loath 
to  speak. 
In  dumb  significants  ^  proclaim  your  thoughts  : 
Let  him,  that  is  a  true-born  gentleman. 
And  stands  upon  the  honour  of  his  birth, 
If  he  suppose  that  I  have  pleaded  truth. 
From  off  this  brier  pluck  a  white  rose  with  me  ^ 

7  In  dumb  significants — ]  I  suspect,  we  should  read — sig- 
nificance.     MaLONE.  "' 

I  believe  the  old  reading  is  the  true  one.  So,  in  Love's  La- 
bour's Lost :  "  Bear  this  significa7it  [i.  e.  a  letter]  to  the  country 
maid,  Jaquenetta,"     Steevens. 

*  From  off  this  brier  pluck  a  white  rose  with  me.]  This  is 
given  as  the  original  of  the  two  badges  of  the  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster,  whether  truly  or  not,  is  no  great  matter.  But 
the  proverbial  expression  of  saying  a  thing  under  the  rose,  I  am 
persuaded  came  from  thence.  When  the  nation  had  ranged  itself 
into  two  great  factions,  under  the  ivhite  and  red  rose,  and  were 
perpetually  plotting  and  counterplotting  against  one  another, 
then,  when  a  matter  of  faction  was  communicated  by  either  party 
to  his  friend  in  the  same  quarrel,  it  was  natural  for  him  to  add, 
that  he  said  it  under  the  rose  ;  meaning  that,  as  it  concerned  the 
faction,  it  was  religiously  to  be  kept  secret.     Warburton. 

This  is  ingenious  !     What  pity,  that  it  is  not  learned  too  ! 

The  rose  (as  the  fables  say)  was  the  symbol  of  silence,  and  con- 
secrated by  Cupid  to  Harpocrates,  to  conceal  the  lewd  pranks  of 
his  mother.  So  common  a  book  as  Lloyd's  Dictionary  might 
have  instructed  Dr.  Warburton  in  this  :  "  Huic  Harpocrati  Cu- 
pido  Veneris  filius  parentis  suee  rosam  dedit  in  munus,  ut  scilicet 
si  quid  licentius  dictum,  vel  actum  sit  in  convivio,  sciant  tacenda 
esse  omnia.  Atque  idcirco  veteres  ad  finem  convivii  sub  rasa, 
Anglice  under  the  rose,  transacta  esse  omnia  ante  digressum  con- 


62  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

SoM.  Let  him  that  is  no  coward,  nor  no  flatterer. 
But  dare  maintain  the  party  of  the  truth, 
Pluck  a  red  rose  from  off  this  thorn  with  me. 

JK-jR.  I  love  no  colours  ^ ;  and,  without  all  colour 
Of  base  insinuating  flattery, 
1  pluck  this  white  rose,  with  Plantagenet. 

SuF.  I  pluck  this  red  rose,  with  young  Somerset; 
And  say  withal,  I  think  he  held  the  right. 

Ver.  Stay,  lords,  and  gentlemen ;  and  pluck  no 
more, 
Till  you  conclude — that  he,  upon  whose  side 
The  fewest  roses  are  cropp'd  from  the  tree. 
Shall  yield  the  other  in  the  right  opinion. 

^0.17.  Good  master  Vernon,  it  is  well  objected  ^ ; 
If  I  have  fewest,  I  subscribe  in  silence. 

Plan.  And  I. 

Ver.  Then,  for  the  truth  and  plainness  of  the  case. 


testabantr.r ;  cujus  formae  vis  eadem  esset,  atque  ista,  MicrM/xva- 
/xova  avfjLTroTav.  Probant  banc  rem  versus  qui  reperiuntur  in  mar- 
more  : 

Est  rosa  flos  Veneris,  cujus  quo  furta  laterent 

Harpocrati  matris  dona  dicavit  Amor. 
Inde  rosam  mensis  hospes  suspendit  amicis, 

Convivae  ut  sub  ea  dicta  tacenda  sciant.     Upton, 
9  I  love  no  colours  ;]      Colours  is  here  used  ambiguously  for 
tints  and  deceits.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost :  "  —  I  do  fear  colourable  colours." 

Steevens. 
'  —  well  objected  j]     Properly  thrown  in  our  way,  justly  pro- 
posed.    Johnson. 

So,  in  Goulart's  Admirable  Histories,  4to.   1607:   "  And  be- 
cause Sathan  transfigures  himselfe  into  an  angell  of  light,  I  ob- 
jected many  and  sundry  questions  unto  him."     Again,  in  Chap- 
man's version  of  the  21st  bool<  of  Homer's  Odyssey  : 
*'  Excites  Penelope  t'  object  the  prize, 
"  (The  bow  and  bright  steeles)  to  the  woers'  strength." 
Again,  in  his  version  of  the  seventeenth  Iliad  : 
"  Objecting  his  all-dazeling  shield,"  &c. 
Again,  in  the  twentieth  Iliad  : 

" his  worst  shall  be  withstood, 

"  With  .sole  objection  of  myselfe." ■     Steevens. 


C 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  r   63 

I  pluck  this  pale,  and  maiden  blossom  here. 
Giving  my  verdict  on  the  white  rose  side. 

SoM.  Prick  not  your  finger  as  you  pluck  it  oif ; 
Lest,  bleeding,  you  do  paint  the  white  rose  red. 
And  fall  on  my  side  so  against  your  will. 

Fer.  If  I,  my  lord,  for  my  opinion  bleed. 
Opinion  shall  be  surgeon  to  my  hurt, 
And  keep  me  on  the  side  where  still  I  am. 

SoM.  Well,  well,  come  on :  Who  else  ? 

Latv.  Unless  my  study  and  my  books  be  false, 
The  argument  you  held,  was  wrong  in  you ; 

\To  Somerset. 
In  sign  whereof,  I  pluck  a  white  rose  too. 

Plan.  Now,  Somerset,  where  is  your  argument  ? 

SoM.  Here,  in  my  scabbard  ;  meditating  that. 
Shall  die  your  white  rose  in  a  bloody  red. 

Plan.  Mean  time,  your  cheeks  do  counterfeit  our 
roses ; 
For  pale  they  look  with  fear,  as  witnessing 
The  truth  on  our  side. 

SoM.  No,  Plantagenet, 

'Tis  not  for  fear;  but  anger, — that  thy  cheeks^ 
Blush  for  pure  shame  to  counterfeit  our  roses ; 
And  yet  thy  tongue  will  not  confess  thy  error. 

Plan.  Hath  not  thy  rose  a  canker,  Somerset  ? 

SoM.  Hath  not  thy  rose  a  thorn,  Plantagenet  ? 

Plan.  Ay,  sharp  and  piercing,  to  maintain  his 
truth  ; 
Whiles  thy  consuming  canker  eats  his  falsehood. 

SoM.  Well,  I'll  find  friends  to  wear  my  bleeding- 
roses, 
That  shall  maintain  what  I  have  said  is  true. 
Where  false  Plantagenet  dare  not  be  seen. 

Plan.  Now,  by  this  maiden  blossom  in  my  hand, 

^  —  but  anger, — that  thy  cheeks,  &c.]  i.  e.  it  is  not  ^r  fear 
that  my  cheeks  look  pale,  but  for  anger;  anger  product»d15y  this 
circumstance,  namely,  that  ///^cheeks  blush,  he.     Malone. 


64  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

I  scorn  thee  and  thy  faction  ^  peevish  boy. 

SuF.  Turn  not  thy  scorns  this  way,  Plantagenet. 

Flan.  Proud  Poole,  I  will ;  and  scorn  both  him 
and  thee. 

SvF.  I'll  turn  my  part  thereof  into  thy  throat* 

SoM.  Away,  away,  good  William  De-la-Poole  ! 
We  grac^  the  yeoman,  by  conversing  with  him. 

War.  Now,  by  God's  will,  thou  wrong'st  him, 
Somerset ; 
His  grandfather  was  Lionel,  duke  of  Clarence  ^ 
Third  son  to  the  third  Edward  king  of  England ; 

3  I  scorn  thee  and  thy  fashion,]  So  the  old  copies  read,  and 
rightly.  Mr,  Theobald  altered  it  to  faction,  not  considering  that 
hy  fashion  is  meant  the  badge  of  the  red  rose,  which  Somerset  said 
he  and  his  friends  would  be  distinguished  by.  But  Mr.  Theobald 
asks,  "  li  faction  was  not  the  true  reading,  why  should  Suffolk 
immediately  reply — 

"  Turn  not  thy  scorns  this  way,  Plantagenet." 

Why  ?  because  Plantagenet  had  called  Somerset,  with  whom 
Suffolk  sided,  peevish  hoy.     Warbukton. 

Mr.  Theobald,  with  great  probability,  reads— faction.  Planta- 
genet afterward  uses  the  same  word  : 


this  pale  and  angry  rose — 


"  Will  I  for  ever,  and  my  faction,  wear." 

In  King  Henry  V.  we  have  pation  for  paction.  We  should  un- 
doubtedly read— and  thy  faction.  The  old  spelling  of  this  word 
wafifaccion,  and  hence  fas/iion  easily  crept  into  the  text. 

So,  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  Edward  IV.  fol.  xxii. :  "  —  whom  we 
ought  to  beleve  to  be  sent  from  God,  and  of  hym  onely  to  bee  pro- 
vided a  kynge,  for  to  extinguish  both  the  faccions  and  partes  [i.  e. 
parties]  of  Kyng  Henry  the  VI.  and  of  Kyng  Edward  the  fourth." 

Malone. 

Ah  fashion  might  have  been  meant  to  convey  the  meaning  as- 
signed to  it  by  Dr.  W^arburton,  I  have  left  the' text  as  I  found  it, 
allowing  at  the  same  time  the  merit  of  the  emendation  offered  by 
Mr.  Theobald,  and  countenanced  by  Mr.  Malone.     Steevens. 

4  His  grandfather  was  Lionel,  diike  of  Clarence,]  The  author 
mistakes.  Plantagenet's  paternal  grandfather  was  Edmund  of 
Langley,  Duke  of  York.  His  maternal  grandfather  was  Roger 
Mortimer,  Earl  of  March,  who  was  the  son  of  Philippa  the  daugh- 
ter of  Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence.  The  duke  therefore  was  his 
maternal  great  great  grandflxther.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  220,  n.  5. 

Malone. 


» 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  65 

Spring  crestless  yeomen  ^  from  so  deep  a  root  ? 

Pl^n.  He  bears  him  on  the  place's  privilege  ^ 
Or  durst  not,  for  his  craven  heart,  say  thus^ 

SoM.  By  him  that  made  me,  I'll  maintain  my 
words 
On  any  plot  of  ground  in  Christendom  : 
Was  not  thy  father,  Richard,  earl  of  Cambridge, 
For  treason  executed  in  our  late  king's  days  ^  ? 
And,  by  his  treason,  stand'st  not  thou  attainted. 
Corrupted,  and  exempt  ^  from  ancient  gentry  ? 
His  trespass  yet  lives  guilty  in  thy  blood ; 
And,  till  thou  be  restor'd,  thou  art  a  yeoman. 

Pl^iw.  My  father  was  attached,  not  attainted  ; 
Condemn'd  to  die  for  treason,  but  no  traitor ; 
And  that  I'll  prove  on  better  men  than  Somerset, 
Were  growing  time  once  ripen'd^  to  my  will. 
For  your   partaker  Poole  \  and  you  yourself. 


5  Spring  crestless  yeomen  — ]  i.  e.  those  who  have  no  right  to 
arras.     Warburton. 

^  He  bears  him  on  the  place's  privilege,]  The  Temple,  being 
a  religious  house,  was  an  asylum,  a  place  of  exemption,  from  vio- 
lence, revenge,  and  bloodshed.     Johnson. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  Temple  had  any  peculiar  privilege 
at  this  time,  being  then,  as  it  is  at  present,  the  residence  of  law- 
students.  The  author  might,  indeed,  imagine  it  to  have  derived 
some  such  privilege  from  its  former  inhabitants,  the  Knights  Tem- 
plars, or  Knights  Hospitalers,  both  religious  orders  :  or  blows 
might  have  been  prohibited  by  the  regulations  of  the  Society :  or 
what  is  equally  probable,  he  might  have  neither  known  nor  cared 
any  thing  about  the  matter.     Ritson. 

7  For  treason  executed  in  our  late  king's  days  ?]  This  unme- 
trical  line  may  be  somewhat  harmonized  by  adopting  a  practice 
common  to  our  author,  and  reading — execute  instead  of  executed. 
Thus,  in  King  Henry  V.  we  have  create  instead  of  created,  and  con- 
taminate \nstead  o{  contaminated.     Steevens. 

^  Corrupted,  and  exempt  — ]     Exempt  iox  excluded. 

Warburton. 

9  —  TIME  once  ripen'd  — ]     So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 
"  — —  stay  the  very  riping  of  the  time."     Steevens. 

'  For  your  partaker  Poole,]  Partaker,  in  ancient  language, 
signifies  one  who  fakes  part  with  another,  an  accomplice,  a  confe- 

voT,.  xvni,  F 


66  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  ii. 

I'll  note  you  in  my  book  of  memory-, 
To  scourge  you  for  this  apprehension  ^  : 
Look  to  it  well ;  and  say  you  are  well  warn'd. 

SoM.  Ay,  thou  shalt  find  us  ready  for  thee  still  : 
And  know  us,  by  these  colours,  for  thy  foes  ; 
For  these  my  friends,  in  spite  of  thee,  shall  wear. 

Plan.  And,  by  my  soul,  this  pale  and  angry  rose. 
As  cognizance  of  my  blood-drinking  hate  ^, 
Will  I  for  ever,  and  my  faction,  wear ; 
Until  it  wither  with  me  to  my  grave, 
Or  flourish  to  the  height  of  my  degree. 

derate.     So,  in  Psalm  1, :   "  When  thou  savvest  a  thief  thou  didst 
consent  unto  him,  and  hast  been  partaker  with  the  adulterers." 
Again,  in  Marlow's  translation  of  the  first  book  ofLucan,  1600: 
"  Each  side  had  great  partakers  :  Caesar's  cause 

"  The  Gods  abetted ;  " 

Again,  in  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia,  lib.  ii.  :  "  —  his  obse- 
quies being  no  more  solemnized  by  the  teares  of  his  partakers, 
than  the  bloud  of  his  enemies."     Steevens. 

^  I'll  note  you  in  my  book  of  memory,]     So,  in  Hamlet : 

" the  table  of  my  memory.'' 

Again  : 

" shall  live 

"  Within  the  book  and  volume  of  my  brain.'"     Steevens. 

3  To  scourge  you  for  this  apprehension  :]  Though  this  word 
possesses  all  the  copies,  I  am  persuaded  it  did  not  come  from  the 
author.  I  have  ventured  to  read — reprehension  :  and  Plantagenet 
means,  that  Somerset  had  reprehended  ov  \-e\)XOVic\\Gd.  him  with  his 
f:ither  the  Earl  of  Cambridge's  treason.     Theobald. 

Apprehension,  i.  e.  opinion.     Warburton. 
So,  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  : 

" how  long  have  you  profess'd  ap2)rehension?  " 

Steevens. 

4  —  this  pale  and  angry  rose. 

As  cognizance  of  my  blood-drinking  hate,]     So,  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet : 

"  Either  my  eye-sight  fails,  or  thou  look'' st  pale. — 
"  And,  trust  me,  love,  in  mine  eye  so  do  you  : 
"  Dry  sorrow  drinks  our  blood."     Steevens. 
A  badge  is  called  a  cognisance  a  cognoscendo,  because  by  it  such 
persons  as  do  wear  it  upon  their  sleeves,  their  shoulders,  or  in 
their  hats,  are   manifestly  known  whose  servants  they  are.     In 
heraldry  the  cognisance  is  seated  v.pon  the  most  eminent  part  of 
the  helmet.     Tollet. 


sc.  IV.  KING  HENRY  VI.  67 

SuF.  Go  forward,  and  be  chok'd  with  thy  ambi- 
tion ! 
And  so  farewell,  until  I  meet  thee  next.  \Exit 

SoM.  Have  with   thee,   Poole. — Farewell,  ambi- 
tious Richard.  [^E.vit. 
^  Plan.   How  I  am  brav'd,  and  must  perforce  en- 
dure it ! 
JV^R.  This  blot,   that  they  object  against  your 
house, 
Shall  be  wip'd  out  ^  in  the  next  parliament, 
Call'd  for  the  truce  of  Winchester  and  Gloster : 
And,  if  thou  be  not  then  created  York, 
I  will  not  live  to  be  accounted  Warwick. 
Mean  time,  in  signal  of  my  love  to  thee, 
Against  proud  Somerset,  and  William  Poole, 
Will  I  upon  thy  party  wear  this  rose  : 
And  here  I  prophecy, — This  brawl  to-day. 
Grown  to  this  faction,  in  the  Temple  garden. 
Shall  send,  between  the  red  rose  and  the  white, 
A  thousand  souls  to  death  and  deadly  night. 

Plan.  Good  master  Vernon,  I  am  bound  to  you, 
That  you  on  my  behalf  would  pluck  a  flower. 
PIer.  In  your  behalf  still  will  I  wear  the  same. 
Latt.  And  so  will  I. 
Plan.  Thanks,  gentle  sir^. 
Come,  let  us  four  to  dinner  :  I  dare  say. 
This  quarrel  will  drink  blood  another  day. 

[Ea^eunt. 

^  Shall  be  wip'd  out — ]  Old  copy— uiAzp'^.     Corrected  by  the 
editor  of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

^  —  gentle  sir.]     The  latter  word,  which  yet  does  notcotn 
plete  the  metre,  was  added  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

Malone. 
Perhaps  the  line  had  originally  this  conclusion  : 

" Thanks,  gentle  sir  ;  thanks  both."     Steevens. 


9. 


68  FIRST  PART  OF  act  u. 

SCENE  V. 

The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Tower. 

Enta^  Mortimer'^ ,  brought  in  a  Chair  by  Two 

Keepers. 

MoR.  Kind  keepers  of  my  weak  decaying  age, 

7  Enter  Mortimer,]  Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  MS.  notes,  ob- 
serves, that  Shakspeafe  has  varied  from  the  truth  of  history,  to 
introduce  this  scene  between  Mortimer  and  Richard  Plantagenet, 
Edmund  Mortimer  served  under  Henry  V.  in  l^SS,  and  died  un- 
confined  in  Ireland  in  1424.  Holinshed  savs,  that  Mortimer  was 
one  of  the  mourners  at  the  funeral  of  Henry  V. 

His  uncle.  Sir  John  Mortimer,  was  indeed  prisoner  in  the 
Tower,  and  was  executed  not  long  before  the  Earl  of  March's 
death,  being  charged  with  an  attempt  to  make  his  escape  in  order 
to  stir  up  an  insurrection  in  W'ales.     Steevens. 

A  Remarher  on  this  note  [the  author  of  the  next]  seems  to  think 
that  he  has  totally  overturned  it,  by  quoting  the  following  passage 
from  Hall's  Chronicle:  "  During  whiche  parliament  [held  in  the 
third  year  of  Henry  VI,  14'25,]  came  to  London  Peter  Duke  of 
Quimber, — whiche  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  &c.  was  highly  fested — . 
During  whych  season  Edmond  Mortymer,  the  last  Erie  of  Marche 
of  that  name,  (whiche  long  tyme  had  bene  restrayned  from  hys 
liberty  and  finally  waxed  lame,)  disceased  without  yssue,  whose 
inheritance  descended  to  Lord  Richard  Plantagenet,"  &c.  as  if  a 
circumstance  which  Hall  mentioned  to  mark  the  time  of  Mortimer's 
death,  necessarily  explained  the  place  where  it  happened  also. 
The  fact  is,  that  tliis  Edmund  Mortimer  did  not  die  in  London, 
but  at  Trim  in  Ireland.  He  did  not  however  die  in  confinement 
(as  Sandford  has  erroneously  asserted  in  his  Genealogical  His- 
tory. See  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I,  vol.  xvi.  p.  220,  n.  5.)  ;  and 
whether  he  ever  was  confined,  (except  by  Owen  Glendower,)  may 
be  doubted,  notwithstanding  the  assertion  of  Hall.  Hardyng, 
who  lived  at  the  time,  says  he  was  treated  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness and  care  both  by  Henry  W.  (to  whom  he  was  a  ward,)  and 
by  his  son  Henry  V.  See  his  Chronicle,  1453,  fol.  229.  He 
was  certainly  at  liberty  in  the  year  1415,  having  a  few  days  before 
King  Henry  sailed  from  Southampton,  divulged  to  him  in  that 
to>vn  tiie  traiterous  intentions  of  his  brother-in-law  Richard  Earl 


s€.  y.  KING  HENRY  VI.  69 

Let  dying  Mortimer  here  rest  himself  ^ — 
Even  like  a  man  new  haled  from  the  rack, 

of  Cambridge,  by  which  he  probably  conciliated  the  friendship  of 
the  young  king.  He  at  that  time  received  a  general  pardon  from 
Henry,  and  was  employed  by  him  in  a  naval  enterprize.  At  the 
coronation  of  Queen  Katharine  he  attended  and  held  the  sceptre. 

Soon  after  the  accession  of  King  Henry  VI.  he  was  constituted 
by  the  English  Regency  chief  governor  of  Ireland,  an  office  which 
he  executed  by  a  deputy  of  his  own  appointment.  In  the  latter 
end  of  the  year  H2i,  he  went  himself  to  that  country,  to  protect 
the  great  inheritance  which  he  derived  from  his  grandmother 
Philippa,  (daughter  to  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence,)  from  the  in- 
cursions of  some  Irish  chieftains,  who  were  aided  by  a  body  of 
Scottish  rovers ;  but  soon  after  his  arrival  died  of  the  plague  in 
his  castle  at  Trim,  in  January  14'2i-5. 

This  Edmond  Mortimer  was,  I  believe,  confounded  by  the 
author  of  this  play,  and  by  the  old  historians,  with  his  kinsman, 
who  was  perhaps  about  thirty  years  old  at  his  death.  Edmond 
Mortimer  was  born  in  December  1392,  and  consequently  at  the 
time  of  his  death  was  thirty-two  years  old. 

This  family  had  great  possessions  in  Ireland,  in  consequence  of 
the  marriage  of  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence  with  the  daughter  of 
the  Earl  of  Ulster,  about  1353,  and  were  long  connected  with  that 
country.  Lionel  was  for  some  time  Viceroy  of  Ireland,  and  was 
created  by  his  father  Edward  III.  Duke  of  Clarence,  in  consequence 
of  possessing  the  honour  of  Clare,  in  the  county  of  Thomond. 
Edmund  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March,  who  married  Philippa  the 
duke's  only  daughter,  succeeded  him  in  the  government  of  Ire- 
land, and  died  in  his  office,  at  St.  Dominick's  Abbey,  near  Cork, 
in  December  1381,  His  son,  Roger  Mortimer,  was  twice  Vice- 
gerent of  Ireland,  and  was  slain  at  a  place  called  Kenles,  in 
Ossory,  in  1398.  Edmund  his  son,  the  Mortimer  of  this  play, 
was,  as  has  been  already  mentioned.  Chief  Governor  of  Ireland, 
in  the  years  1423,  and  1424,  and  died  there  in  1425.  His 
nephew  and  heir,  Richard  Duke  of  York,  (the  Plantagenet  of  this 
play,)  was  in  1449  constituted  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland  for  ten 
years,  with  extraordinary  powers  ;  and  his  son  George  Duke  of 
Clarence  (who  was  afterwards  murdered  in  the  Tower)  was  born 
in  the  Castle  of  Dublin,  in  1450.  This  prince  filled  the  same 
office  which  so  many  of  his  ancestors  had  possessed,  being  con- 
stituted Chief  Governor  of  Ireland  for  life,  by  his  brother  King 
Edward  IV.  in  the  third  year  of  his  reign. 

Perhaps  I  have  been  mistaken  in  one  assertion  which  I  have 
jtnade  in  the  former  part  of  this  note  ;  Mortimer  probably  did  not 


70  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ji. 

So  fare  my  limbs  with  long  imprisonment : 
And  these  grey  locks,  the  pursuivants  of  death  ^, 


take  his  title  of  Clarence  from  his  great  Irish  possessions,  (as  I 
have  suggested)  but  rather  from  his  wife's  mother,  Elizabeth  le 
Clare,  third  daughter  of  Gilbert  de  Clare  Earl  of  Gloster,  and 
sister  to  Gilbert  de  Clare,  the  last  (of  that  name)  Earl  of  Gloster, 
who  founded  Clare  Hall  in  Cambridge. 

The  error  concerning  Edmund  Mortimer,  brother-in-law  to 
Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge,  having  been  "  kept  in  captivity 
untill  he  died,"  seems  to  have  arisen  from  the  legend  of  Richard 
Plantagenet,  Duke  of  Yorke,  in  The  Mirrour  for  Magistrates, 
1575,  where  the  following  lines  are  found  : 

"  His  cursed  son  ensued  his  cruel  path, 
"  And  kept  my  guiltless  cousin  strait  in  durance, 
"  For  whom  my  father  hard  entreated  hath, 
"  But  living  hopeless  of  his  life's  assurance, 
"  He  thought  it  best  by  politick  prncurance 
"  To  slay  the  king,  and  so  restore  his  friend  ; 
*'  Which  brought  himself  to  an  infamous  end. 
"  So  when  king  Henry,  of  that  name  the  lift, 
"  Had  tane  my  father  in  his  conspiracie, 
"  He,  from  Sir  Edmund  all  the  blame  to  shift, 
"  Was  faine  to  say,  the  French  king  Charles,  his  ally, 
"  Had  hired  him  this  traiterous  act  to  try ; 
"  For  which  condemned  shortly  he  was  slain  : 
"  In  helping  right  this  was  my  father's  gain."     Malone. 
It  is  objected  that  Shakspeare  has  varied   from  the   truth  of 
history,  to  introduce  this  scene  between  Mortimer  and  Richard 
Plantagenet;  as  the  former  served  under   Henry  V.  in  142'i,  and 
died  uncon fined  m  Ireland,  in  J^^t.     In  the  third  year  of  Henry 
the  Sixth,  \¥25,  and  during  the  time  that  Peter  Duke  of  Coimbra 
was   entertained   in  London,   "  Edmonde   Mortimer  (says    Hall) 
the  last  erle  of  Marche  of  that  name  (which  lon^r  tyme  had  bene 
restraynedfrom  hys  lihertij,  and  fynally  waxed  lamej   disceased 
without  yssue,  whose  inheritance  descended  to  lord  Richard  Plan- 
tagenet," &c.      Holinshed  has  the  same  words  ;  and  these  autho- 
rities,   though  the  fact  be  otherwise,  are  sufficient  to  prove  that 
Shakspeare,  or  whoever  was  the  author  of  the  play,   did   not  in- 
tentionally vary  from  the  truth  of  history  to  introduce  the  present 
scene.     The  historian   does  not,   indeed,   expressly  say  that   the 
Earl  of  March  died  in  the    Tower;  but  one  cannot  reasonably 
suppose  that  he  meant  to  relate  an  event  which  he  knew  had  hap- 
pened to  a.Jree  man  in  Ireland,  as  happening  to  a  prisoner  during 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  71 

Nestor-like  aged,  in  an  age  of  care, 
Argue  the  end  of  Edmund  Mortimer. 
These    eyes, — like   lamps    whose    wasting    oil    is 
spent  \ — 


the  time  that  a  particular  person  was  in  London.  But,  where- 
ever  he  meant  to  lay  the  scene  of  Mortimer's  death,  it  is  clear 
that  the  author  of  this  play  understood  him  as  representing  it  to 
have  happened  in  a  London  prison  ;  an  idea,  if  indeed  his  words 
will  bear  any  other  construction,  a  preceding  passage  may  serve 
to  corroborate  :  "  The  erle  of  March  (he  has  observed)  was  ever 
kepte  in  the  courte  under  such  a  keper  that  he  could  nether  doo 
or  attempte  any  thyng  agaynste  the  kyng  vvythout  his  knowledge, 
and  dyed  without  issue."  I  am  aware,  and  could  easily  show, 
that  some  of  the  most  interesting  events,  not  only  in  the  Chro- 
nicles of  Hall  and  Holinshed,  but  in  the  Histories  of  Rapin, 
Hume,  and  Smollet,  are  perfectly  fabulous  and  unfounded,  wliich 
are  nevertheless  constantly  cited  and  regarded  as  incontrovertible 
facts.  But,  if  modern  writers,  standing,  as  it  were,  upon  the 
shoulders  of  their  predecessors,  and  possessing  innumerable 
other  advantages,  are  not  always  to  be  depended  on,  what  allow- 
ances ought  we  not  to  make  for  those  who  had  neither  Rymer, 
nor  Dugdale,  nor  Sandford  to  consult,  who  could  have  no  access 
to  the  treasuries  of  Cotton  or  Harley,  nor  were  permitted  the 
inspection  of  a  public  record?  If  this  were  the  case  with 
the  historian,  what  can  be  expected  from  the  dramatist  ? 
He  naturally  took  {or  fact  what  he  found  in  history,  and  is  by 
no  means  answerable  for  the  misinformation  of  his  authority, 

RiTSON. 

^  Let  dying  Mortimer  here  rest  himself.]  I  know  not  whether 
Milton  did  not  take  from  this  hint  the  lines  with  which  he  opens 
his  tragedy.     Johnson. 

Rather  from  the  beginning  of  the  last  scene  of  the  third  Act  of 
the  Fhoenissce  of  Euripides  : 

Tiresias.    'HyS  7ra^oj5=,  ^uydlep,  cog  rvi^'ha  ttcSj 

'0<p9aXjy.oj  tl  av,   vcivCa.Ta.i(nv  ciarpov  cac. 
Asuf)   slg  TO  Kivpov  ttsSov  (%voj  TiOeia  £ff.ov,  &c. 

Steevens, 
9   —  PURSUIVANTS   of  death,]      Pursuivants.      The    heralds 
that,  forerunning  death,  proclaim  its  approach.     Johnson. 

I  — like  lamps  whose  wasting  oil  is  spent,]  So,  in  King 
Richard  II. : 

"  My  oil-dry'd  lamp,  and  time-bewastcd  light — ." 

Steevens. 


72  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Wax  dim,  as  drawing  to  their  exigent  ^ : 

Weak  shoulders,  overborne  with  burd'ning  grief; 

And  pithless  arms  '',  like  to  a  wither'd  vine 

That  droops  his  sapless  branches  to  the  ground  : — 

Yet  are  these  feet — whose  strengthless  stay  is  numb. 

Unable  to  support  this  lump  of  clay, — 

Swift-winged  with  desire  to  get  a  grave, 

As  witting  I  no  other  comfort  have. — 

But  tell  me,  keeper,  will  my  nephew  come  ? 

1  Keep.    Richard    Plantagenet,    my  lord,    will 
come : 
We  sent  unto  the  Temple,  to  his  chamber ; 
And  answer  was  return'd  that  he  will  come. 

MoR.  Enough  :  my  soul  shall  then  be  satisfied. — 
Poor  gentleman  !  his  wrong  doth  equal  mine. 
Since  Henry  Monmouth  first  began  to  reign, 
(Before  whose  glory  I  was  great  in  arms,) 
This  loathsome  sequestration  have  I  had  ^ ; 
And  even  since  then  hath  Richard  been  obscur'd. 
Deprived  of  honour  and  inheritance  : 
But  now,  the  arbitrator  of  despairs, 
Just  death,  kind  umpire  of  men's  miseries 


,o  5 


*  - —  as  drawing  to  their  exigent  :]     Exigent,  end. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  Doctor  Dodypoll,  a  comedy,  1600  : 

"  Hath  driven  her  to  some  desperate  exigent."    Steevens. 
3  And  PITHLESS  arms,]     Pith  was  used  for  ntarroiv,  and  figu- 
ratively, for  strength.     Johnson. 

In  the  first  of  these  senses  it  is  used  in  Othello : 

"  For  since  these  arms  of  mine  had  seven  years'  pith — ." 
And,  figuratively,  in  Hamlet : 

"  And  enterprizes  of  great  pith  and  moment — ." 

Steevens. 

*  Since  Henry  Monmouth  first  began  to  reign, — 

This  loathsome  sequestration  have  I  had  ;]     Here  again,  the 
author  certainly  is  mistaken.     See  p.  68,  n,  7.     Malone. 
s  —  the  ARBITRATOR  of  dcspairs, 

Just  death,  kind  umpire  of  men's  miseries ;]  That  is,  he 
that  terminates  or  concludes  misery.  The  expression  is  harsh  and 
forced.     Johnson. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  73 

With  sweet  enlargement  doth  dismiss  me  hence ; 
I  would,  his  troubles  likewise  were  expir'd. 
That  so  he  might  recover  what  was  lost. 

Enter  Riciurd  Flantagenet. 

1  Keep.  My   lord,  your  loving  nephew  now   is 

come. 
MoR.  Richard  Plantagenet,  my  friend  .^     Is  he 

come  ? 
Flan.  Ay,  noble  uncle,  thus  ignobly  us'd, 
Youi*  nephew,  late-despised  ^  Richard,  comes. 

MoR.  Direct  mine  arms,  I  may  embrace  his  neck. 
And  in  his  bosom  spend  my  latter  gasp  : 
O,  tell  me,  when  my  lips  do  touch  his  cheeks. 
That  I  may  kindly  give  one  fainting  kiss. — 
And  now  declare,  sweet  stem  from  York's  gi-eat 

stock. 
Why  didst  thou  say — of  late  thou  wert  despis'd  ? 
Plan.  First,  lean  thine  aged  back  against  mine 
arm  ; 
And,  in  that  ease,  I'll  tell  thee  my  disease  ^ 

The  same  idea  is  expressed  with  greater  propriety  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet : 

"  'Twixt  my  extremes  and  me  this  bloody  knife 
"  Shall  play  the  umpire,  arbitrating  that,"  &.c. 

Steevens. 

6  —  late-despised—]     i.  e.  lately  despised.     M.  Mason. 

7  —  I'll  tell  thee  mv  disease.]     Disease  seems  to  be  here  un- 
easiness,  or  discontent.     Johnson. 

It  is  so  used  by  other  ancient  writers,  and  by  Shakspeare   in 
Coriolanus.     Thus   likewise,  in   Spenser's   Fairy  Queen,    b.  iii. 

C     V,  I 

"  But  labour'd  long  in  that  deep  ford  with  vain  disease.'' 
That  to  disease  is  to  disturb,  may  be  known  from  the  following 
passages  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  : 

"  But  brother,  hye  thee  to  the  ships,  and  Idomen  disease.'* 
i.  e.  wake  him.     B.  vi.  edit.  1598.     Again,  Odyss.  book  vi. : 

«« with  which  he  declin'd 

•'  The  eyes  of  any  waker  when  he  pleas'd, 
•'  And  any  sleeper,  when  he  wish'd,  diseasd." 


74  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

This  day,  in  argument  upon  a  case, 

Some  words  there  grew  'twixt  Somerset  and  me : 

Among  which  terms  he  used  his  lavish  tongue, 

And  did  upbraid  me  with  my  father's  death  ; 

Which  obloquy  set  bars  before  my  tongue, 

Else  with  the  like  I  had  requited  him  : 

Therefore,  good  uncle,  for  my  father's  sake. 

In  honour  of  a  true  Plantagenet, 

And  for  alliance'  sake,  declare  the  cause 

My  father,  earl  of  Cambridge,  lost  his  head. 

MoR.  That  cause,  fair  nephew,  that  imprisoned 
me. 
And  hath  detain'd  me,  all  my  flow'ring  youth. 
Within  a  loathsome  dungeon,  there  to  pine. 
Was  cursed  instrument  of  his  decease. 

Plan.  Discover  more  at  large  what  cause  that 
was; 
For  I  am  ignorant,  and  cannot  guess. 

MoR.  I  will ;  if  that  my  fading  breath  permit. 
And  death  approach  not  ere  my  tale  be  done. 
Henry  the  fourth,  grandfather  to  this  king, 
Depos'd  his  nephew  Richard  ^;  Edward's  son. 


Again,  in  tlie  ancient  metrical  history  of  The  Battle  of  Flod- 
don  : 

"  He  thought  the  Scots  might  him  disease 

"  With  constituted  captains  meet."     Steevens. 

8  — his  NEPHEW  llichard  ;]  Thus  the  old  copy.  Modern 
editors  read — "  his  cousin,"'  but  without  necessity.  Nephexv  has 
sometimes  the  power  of  the  Latin  nepos,  and  is  used  with  great 
laxity  among  our  ancient  English  writers.  Thus  in  Othello,  lago 
tells  Brabantio~he  shall  "have  his  iiepheivs  (i.  e.  the  children  of 
his  own  daughter)  neigh  to  him."     Steeven?. 

It  would  be  surely  better  to  read  cousin,  the  meaning  which 
nepheiv  ought  to  have  in  this  place.  Mr.  Steevens  only  proves 
that  the  word  ncplieivs  is  sometimes  used  for  graiul-c/iih/ren,  which 
is  very  certain.  Both  uncle  and  nephew  might,  however,  formerly 
signify  cousin.  See  the  Menegiana,  vol.  ii.  p.  193.  In  The 
Second  Part  of  the  Troublesome  Raigne  of  King  John,  Prince 
Henry  calls  his  cousin  the  Bastard,  "  uncle:'     Ritson. 


,sc.  y.  KING  HENRY  VI.  75 

The  first-begotten,  and  the  lawful  heir 

Of  Edward  king,  the  third  of  that  descent : 

During  whose  reign,  the  Percies  of  the  north, 

Finding  his  usurpation  most  unjust, 

Endeavour'd  my  advancement  to  the  throne : 

The  reason  mov'd  these  warlike  lords  to  this. 

Was — for  that  (young  king  Richard  ^  thus  remov'd. 

Leaving  no  heir  begotten  of  his  body,) 

I  was  the  next  by  birth  and  parentage  ; 

For  by  my  mother  I  derived  am 

From  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  third  son  ^ 

To  king  Edward  the  third,  whereas  he, 

From  John  of  Gaunt  doth  bring  his  pedigree. 

Being  but  fourth  of  that  heroick  line. 

But  mark  ;  as,  in  this  haughty  great  attempt  ^, 

They  laboured  to  plant  the  rightful  heir, 

I  lost  my  liberty,  and  they  their  lives. 

Long  after  this,  when  Henry  the  fifth, — 

Succeeding  his  father  Bolingbroke,  did  reign. 

Thy  father,  earl  of  Cambridge,  then  deriv'd 

From  famous  Edmund  Langley,  duke  of  York, 

Marrying  my  sister,  that  thy  mother  was, 

Again,  in  pity  of  my  hard  distress. 

Levied  an  army'^;  weening  to  redeem, 

I  believe  the  mistake  here  arose  from  the  author's  ignorance ; 
and  that  he  conceived  Richard  to  be  Henry's  nephew.    Malone. 
9  — young  KING  Richard — ]     Thus  the   second   folio.     The 
first  omits — king,  which  is  necessary  to  the  metre.     Steevens. 

'  —  THE  third  son — ]     The  article — the,  which  is  necessary  to 
the  metre,  is  omitted  in  the  first  folio,  but  found  in  the  second. 

Steevens. 
^  — in  this  HAUGHTY  great  attempt,]     HaugJiti/i%  Jngh. 

Johnson. 

So,  in  the  fourth  Act  : 

"  Valiant  and  virtuous,  full  oi  haughty  courage." 

Steevens. 
3  Levied  an  army  ;]     Here  is  again  another  f;ilsificution  of  his- 
tory.    Cambridge  levied  no  army,  but  was  apprehended  at  South- 
ampton^ the  night  before  Henry  sailed  from  that  town  for  France^ 


76  FIRST  PART  OF  act  n. 

And  have  install'd  me  in,  the  diadem : 
But,  as  the  rest,  so  fell  that  noble  earl ; 
And  was  beheaded.     Thus  the  Mortimers, 
In  whom  the  title  rested,  were  suppress'd. 

Flan.  Of  which,  my  lord,  your  honour  is  the 
last. 

MoR.  True ;  and  thou  seest,    that   I   no  issue 
have ; 
And  that  my  fainting  words  do  warrant  death : 
Thou  art  my  heir  ;  the  rest,  I  wish  thee  gather  ^ : 
But  yet  be  wary  in  thy  studious  care. 

Plan.  Thy  grave   admonishments   prevail  with 
me : 
But  yet,  methinks,  my  father's  execution 
Was  nothing  less  than  bloody  tyranny. 

MoR.  With  silence,  nephew,  be  thou  politick ; 
Strong-fixed  is  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
And,  like  a  mountain,  not  to  be  remov'd  ^. 
But  now  thy  uncle  is  removing  hence  ; 
As  princes  do  their  courts,  when  they  are  cloy'd 
With  long  continuance  in  a  settled  place. 

Plan.  O,  uncle,  'would  some  part  of  my  young 
years 
Might  but  redeem  the  passage  of  your  age  ^ ! ' 

on  the   information    of    this   very   Edmund   Mortimer,   Earl   of 
March.     Malone. 

^  Thou  art  my  heir ;  the  rest,  I  wish  thee  gather  :]  The  sense 
is — I  acknowledge  thee  to  be  my  heir ;  the  consequences  which 
may  be  collected  from  thence,  I  recommend  it  to  thee  to  draw. 

Heath, 
s  And,  like  a  mountain,  not  to  be  remov'd.]    Thus  Milton,  Par. 
Lost,  book  iv. : 

"  Like  TenerifF  or  Atlas,  unremov'd."     Steevens, 
^  O,  uncle,  'would  some  part  of  my  young  years 
Might  but  redeem,  &c.]    This  thought  has  some  resemblance 
to  that  of  the  following  lines,  which  are  supposed  to  be  addressed 
by  a  married  lady,  who  died  very  young,   to  her  husband.     The 
inscription  is,  I  think,  in  the  church  of  Trent : 
Immatura  peri ;  sed  tu  diuturnior  annos 
Vive  mcos,  conjux  optinic,  vive  tuos.     Malone. 


sc.  F.  KING  HENRY  VI.  77 

MoR.  Thou  dost  then  wrong  me ;  as  the  slaugh- 

t'rer  doth, 
Which  giveth  many  wounds,  when  one  will  kill  \ 
Mourn  not,  except  thou  sorrow  for  my  good ; 
Only,  give  order  for  my  funeral ; 
And  so  farewell ;  and  fair  be  all  thy  hopes  ^  ! 
And  prosperous  be  thy  life,  in  peace,  and  war ! 

[Dies. 
Plan.    And  peace,   no  war,    befal  thy    parting 

soul ! 
In  prison  hast  thou  spent  a  pilgrimage, 
And  like  a  hermit  overpass'd  thy  days. — 
Well,  I  will  lock  his  counsel  in  my  breast ; 
And  what  I  do  imagine,  let  that  rest. — 
Keepers,  convey  him  hence  ;  and  I  myself 

This  superstition  is  very  ancient.  Some  traces  of  it  may  be 
found  in  the  traditions  of  the  Rabbins  ;  it  is  enlarged  upon  in  the 
Alcestes  of  Euripides ;  and  such  offers  ridiculed  by  Juvenal, 
Sat.  xii.  Dion  Cassius  in  Vit.  Hadrian,  fol.  edit.  Hamburgh, 
vol.  ii.  p.  1160,  insinuates,  "That  Hadrian  sacrificed  his  favourite 
Antinous  with  this  design."  See  Reimari  Annotat.  in  loc  :  "  De 
nostris  annis,  tibi  Jupiter  augeat  annos,"  said  the  Romans  to  Au- 
gustus. See  Lister's  Journey  to  Paris,  p.  221.  Vaillant. 
V  —  as  the  slaught'rer  doth. 
Which  giveth  many  vi'ounds,  when  one  will  kill.]  The  same 
thought  occurs  in  Hamlet : 

"  Like  to  a  murdering-piece,  in  many  places 
"  Gives  me  superfluous  death."  Steevens. 
^  —  and  fair  be  all  thy  hopes  !]  Mortimer  knew  Plantage- 
tiet's  hopes  were  fair,  but  that  the  establishment  of  the  Lancas- 
trian line  disappointed  them :  sure,  he  would  wish,  that  his 
nephew's  fair  hopes  might  have  a  fair  issue.  I  am  persuaded  the 
poet  wrote : 

"  — —  and  fair  hefal  thy  hopes  !  "     Theobald. 
This  emendation   is  received  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  and  Dr. 
Warburton.     1  do  not  see  how  the  readings  differ  in  sense.    Fair 
is  liickij,  or  prosperous.     So  we  say,  ^.Jair  wind,  andya/r  fortune. 

Johnson. 
Theobald's  amendment  is  unnecessary,   and  proceeded  from  his 
confounding  Plantagenet's  hopes  with  his  pretensions.     His^^re- 
tensions  were  well  founded,  but  his  hopes  were  not.     M.  MAso^f. 


78  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Will  see  his  burial  better  than  his  life. — 

\E):cunt  Keepers,  bearing  out  Mortimer. 
Here  dies  the  dusky  torch  of  Mortimer, 
Chok'd  with  ambition  ^  of  the  meaner  sort : — 
And,  for  those  wrongs,  those  bitter  injuries, 
Which  Somerset  hath  offerd  to  my  house, — 
I  doubt  not,  but  with  honour  to  redress  : 
And  therefore  haste  I  to  the  parliament ; 
Either  to  be  restored  to  my  blood. 
Or  make  my  ill  ^  the  advantage  of  my  good. 

[Exit. 

9  Chok'd  with  ambition  of  the  meaner  sort :]     So,  in  the  pre- 
ceding scene  : 

"  Go  forward,  and  be  chok'd  tvith  thy  ambition." 

Steevens. 
We  are  to  understand  the  speaker  as  reflecting-  on  the  ill  for- 
tune of  Mortimer,  in  being  always  made  a  tool  of  by  the   Percies 
of  the  North  in  their  rebellious  intrigues  ;  rather  than  in  asserting 
his  claim  to  the  crown,  in  support  of  his  own  princely  ambition. 

Warburtox. 
It  rather  means,  '  oppressed  by  those  whose  right  to  the  crown 
was  not  so  good  as  his  own.'     Boswell. 
'  Or  make  my  ill — ]     In  former  editions  : 

"  Or  make  my  will  th'  advantage  of  my  good." 
So  all  the  printed  copies ;  but  with  very  little  regard  to  the 
poet's  meaning.     I  read  : 

"  Or  make  my  ill  th'  advantage  of  my  good." 
Thus  we  recover  the  antithesis  of  the  expression,     Theobald. 
Ml/  ill,  is  mi/  ill  usage.     Malone. 

This  sentiment  resembles  another  of  Falstaff,   in  The   Second 
Part  of  King  Henry  IV. ;  "  I  will  turn  diseases  to  commodity." 

Steevens. 


ACT  111.  KING  HENRY  VI.  79 

ACT  III.     SCENE  I. 

The  Same.     The  Parliament-House  ^. 

Flourish.  Enter  King  Henry,  Exeter,  Gloster, 
Wartfick,  Somerset,  and  Suffolk;  the  Bishop 
of  Winchester,  Richard  Plantagenet,  and 
Others.  Gloster  offers  to  put  up  a  Bill ;  JViyi- 
Chester  snatches  it,  and  tears  it. 

Win.  Com'st  thou  with  deep  premeditated  lines. 
With  written  pamphlets  studiously  devis'd, 
Humphrey  of  Gloster  ?  if  thou  canst  accuse. 
Or  aught  intend'st  to  lay  unto  my  charge. 
Do  it  without  invention  suddenly  ; 
As  I  with  sudden  and  extemporal  speech 
Purpose  to  answer  what  thou  canst  object. 

Glo.  Presumptuous  priest !  this  place  commands 
my  patience, 
Or  thou  should'st  find  thou  hast  dishonoured  me. 
Think  not,  although  in  wi-iting  I  preferr'd 
The  manner  of  thy  vile  outrageous  crimes. 
That  therefore  I  have  forg'd,  or  am  not  able 
Verbatim  to  rehearse  the  method  of  my  pen  : 
No,  prelate ;  such  is  thy  audacious  wickedness. 
Thy  lewd,  pestiferous,  and  dissentious  pranks. 
As  very  infants  prattle  of  thy  pride. 
Thou  art  a  most  pernicious  usurer ; 
Froward  by  nature,  enemy  to  peace  ; 

^  The  Parliament-House.]  This  parliament  was  held  in  1426, 
at  Leicester,  though  the  author  of  this  play  has  represented  it  to 
have  been  held  in  London.  King  Henry  was  now  in  the  fifth  year 
of  his  age.  In  the  first  parliament  which  was  held  at  London 
shortly  after  his  father's  death,  his  mother  Queen  Katharine 
brought  the  young  King  from  Windsor  to  the  metropolis,  and  sat 
on  the  throne  of  the  parliament-house  with  the  infant  in  her  lap. 

Malone. 


80  FIRST  PART  OF  act  iii. 

Lascivious,  wanton,  more  than  well  beseems 
A  man  of  thy  profession,  and  degree  ; 
And  for  thy  treachery,  What's  more  manifest  ? 
In  that  thou  laid'st  a  trap  to  take  my  life, 
As  well  at  London  bridge,  as  at  the  Tower  ? 
Beside,  I  fear  me,  if  thy  thoughts  were  sifted, 
The  king,  thy  sovereign,  is  not  quite  exempt 
From  envious  malice  of  thy  swelling  heart. 

JViN.  Gloster,  I  do  defy  thee. — Lords,  vouch- 
safe 
To  give  me  hearing  what  I  shall  reply. 
If  I  were  covetous,  ambitious,  or  perverse  *, 
As  he  will  have  me,  How  am  I  so  poor  ? 
Or  how  haps  it,  I  seek  not  to  advance 
Or  raise  myself,  but  keep  my  wonted  calling  ? 
And  for  dissention,  Who  preferreth  peace 
More  than  I  do, — except  I  be  provok'd  ? 
No,  my  good  lords,  it  is  not  that  offends  ; 
It  is  not  that,  that  hath  incens'd  the  duke  : 
It  is,  because  no  one  should  sway  but  he  ; 
No  one,  but  he,  should  be  about  the  king  ; 
And  that  engenders  thunder  in  his  breast. 
And  makes  him  roar  these  accusations  forth. 
But  he  shall  know,  I  am  as  good 

Glo.  As  good  ? 

Thou  bastard  of  my  grandfather  ^ ! — 

IViN.  Ay,  lordly  sir ;  For  what  are  you,  I  pray, 
But  one  imperious  in  another's  throne  ? 

Glo.  Am  I  not  the  protector^,  saucy  priest  .^ 

*  If  I  WERE  covetous,  ambitious,  or  perverse,]     I  suppose  this 
redundant  line  originally  stood — 

"  ^r6?re  /  covetous,  ambitious,"  &c.     Steevens. 
5  Tiiou  bastard  of  my  grandfather,]     The  Bishop  of  Winches- 
ter was  an  illegitimate  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
by  Katharine  Swynford,  whom  the  Duke  afterwards  married. 

Malone. 
^  —  THE  protector,]     I  have  added  the  axl\c\e— the,  for  the 
sake  of  metre,     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  81 

^iN,  And  am  I  not  a  prelate  of  the  church  ? 

Glo.  Yes^  as  an  outlaw  in  a  castle  keeps, 
And  useth  it  to  patronage  his  theft. 

IViN.  Unreverent  Gloster ! 

Glo.  Thou  art  reverent 

Touching  thy  spiritual  function,  not  thy  life. 

fViN.  Rome  shall  remedy  this  ^ 

IVyiR.  Roam  thither  then^. 

SoM.  My  lord,  it  were  your  duty  to  forbear^. 

IV^R.  Ay,  see  the  bishop  be  not  overborne. 

So3/.  Methinks,  my  lord  should  be  religious. 
And  know  the  office  that  belongs  to  such. 

fV^R.  Methinks,  his  lordship  should  be  humbler; 
It  fitteth  not  a  prelate  so  to  plead. 

SoM.  Yes,  when  his  holy  state  is  touch'd  so  near. 

IF^R.  State  holy,  or  unhallow'd,  what  of  that  ? 
Is  not  his  grace  protector  to  the  king  ? 

Flan.  Plantagenet,  I  see,  must  hold  his  tongue ; 
Lest  it  be  said,  Speak,  sirrah,  wJien  you  should ; 
Must  your  bold  verdict  enter  talk  zvith  lords  ? 

1  This  Rome  shall  remedy.]     The  old  copy,  unmetrically — 
"  Rome  shall  remedy  this." 
The  transposition  is  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's.     Steevens. 

^  Roam  thither  then.]  Roam  to  Rome.  To  roam  is  supposed 
to  be  derived  from  the  cant  of  vagabonds,  who  often  pretended  a 
pilgrimage  to  Rome.     Johnson. 

The  jingle  between  roam  and  Rume'x?,  common  to  other  writers. 

So,    in   Nash's   Lenten   Stuff,  &c.   1599:   " three  hundred 

thousand  people  roamed  to  Rome  for  purgatorie  pills,"  &c. 

Steevens. 
Our  author  seems  to  have  pronounced  this  word  differently. 
See  Julius  Csesar : 

"  Now  is  it  Rome  indeed  and  room  enough."     Boswell. 
9  Som.  My  lord,  it  were  your  duty  to  forbear,  &c.]     This  line, 
in  the  old  copy,  is  joined  to  the  former  hemistich  spoken  by  War- 
wick,    The  modern  editors  have  very  properly  given  it  to  Somer- 
set, for  whom  it  seems  to  have  been  designed. 

"  Ay,  see  the  bishop  be  not  overborne," 
was  as  erroneously  given  in  the  next  speech  to  Somerset,  instead 
of  Warwick,  to  whom  it  has  been  since  restored.     Steevens. 
The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald.     Malone. 
VOL.  XVIII.  G 


82  FIRST  PART  OF  act  in. 

Else  would  I  have  a  fling  at  Winchester.      \^Aside, 
K.  Hen.  Uncles  of  Gloster,  and  of  Winchester, 

The  special  watchmen  of  our  English  weal ; 

I  would  prevail,  if  prayers  might  prevail. 

To  join  your  hearts  in  love  and  amity. 

O,  what  a  scandal  is  it  to  our  crown, 

That  two  such  noble  peers  as  ye,  should  jar  I 

Believe  me,  lords,  my  tender  years  can  tell. 

Civil  dissention  is  a  viperous  worm, 

That  gnaws  the  bowels  of  the  commonwealth. — 
\A  Noise  xvithin  ;  Down  with  the  tawny  coats ! 

What  tumult's  this  ? 

War.  An  uproar,  I  dare  warrant. 

Begun  through  malice  of  the  bishop's  men. 

\_A  Noise  again  ;  Stones  !  Stones  ! 

Enter  the  Mayor  of  London,  attended. 

May.  O,  my  good  lords, — and  virtuous  Henry, — 
Pity  the  city  of  London,  pity  us  ! 
The  bishop  and  the  duke  of  Gloster's  men. 
Forbidden  late  to  carry  any  weapon, 
Have  fill'd  their  pockets  full  of  pebble-stones ; 
And,  banding  themselves  in  contrary  parts. 
Do  pelt  so  fast  at  one  another's  pate, 
That  many  have  their  giddy  brains  knock'd  out : 
Our  windows  are  broke  down  in  every  street. 
And  we,  for  fear,  compell'd  to  shut  our  shops. 

Enter,  skirmisJiing,   the  Retainers  of  Gloster  and 
Winchester,  with  bloody  pates. 

K.  Hen.  We  charge  you,  on  allegiance  to  our- 
self. 
To   hold  your   slaught'ring   hands,  and   keep  the 

peace. 
Pray,  uncle  Gloster,  mitigate  this  strife. 

1  Serf.  Nay,  if  we  be 
Forbidden  stones,  we'll  fall  to  it  with  our  teeth. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  83 

2  Serv.  Do  what  ye  dare,  we  are  as  resolute. 

\_Skirmish  again. 
Glo.  You  of  my  household,  leave  this  peevish 
broil. 
And  set  this  unaccustom'd  fight  ^  aside. 

1  Serv.  My  lord,  we  know  your  grace  to  be  a 
man 
Just  and  upright ;  and,  for  your  royal  birth, 
Inferior  to  none,  but  to  his  majesty^  : 
And,  ere  that  we  will  suffer  such  a  prince. 
So  kind  a  father  of  the  commonweal. 
To  be  disgraced  by  a  inkhorn  mate  ^, 
We,  and  our  wives,  and  our  children,  all  will  fight. 
And  have  our  bodies  slaughter'd  by  thy  foes. 

3  Serf.  Ay,  and  the  very  parings  of  our  nails 
Shall  pitch  a  field,  when  we  are  dead. 

[Skirmish  again. 
Glo.  Stay,  stay,  I  say  *  ! 

And,  if  you  love  me,  as  you  say  you  do, 

' — unaccustom'd  fight — ]  Unaccustom'd  IS  unseemly,  in- 
decent.    Johnson, 

The  same  epithet  occurs  again  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  where  it 
seems  to  mean — "  such  as  is  uncommon,  not  in  familiar  use  :  " 
"  Shall  give  him  such  an  unaccustom'd  dram." 

Steevens. 
*  —  but  his  majesty  :]     Old  copy,  redundantly — 

" but  to  his  majesty." 

Perhaps  the  line  originally  ran  thus  : 

"  To  none  inferior,  but  his  majesty."  Steevens. 
3 — an  inkhorn  mate,]  h  bookman.  Johnson. 
~It  was  a  term  of  reproach  at  the  time  towards  men  of  learning 
or  men  affecting  to  be  learned.  George  Pettie  in  his  Introduction 
to  Guazzo's  Civil  Conversation,  1586,  speaking  of  those  he  calls 
nice  travellers,  says,  "  if  one  chance  to  derive  anie  word  from  the 
Latine,  which  is  insolent  to  their  ears,  (as  perchance  they  will 
take  that  phrase  to  be)  they  forthwith  make  a  jest  at  it,  and  tearme 
it  an  Inkhorne  tearme."     Reed. 

4  Stay,  stay,  I  say  !]  Perhaps  the  words — /  say,  should  be 
omitted,  as  they  only  serve  to  disorder  the  metre,  and  create  a 
disagreeable  repetition  of  the  word — say,  in  the  next  line. 

Steevens. 

G    21 


84  FIRST  PART  OF  act  hi. 

Let  me  persuade  you  to  forbear  a  while. 

K.  Hen.  O,   how  this   discord  doth   afflict   my 
soul ! — 
Can  you,  my  lord  of  Winchester,  behold 
My  sighs  and  tears,  and  will  not  once  relent  ? 
Who  should  be  pitiful,  if  you  be  not  ? 
Or  who  should  study  to  prefer  a  peace, 
If  holy  churchmen  take  delight  in  broils  ? 

War.  Yield,  my  lord  protector  ^ ! — yield,  Win- 
chester ; — 
Except  you  mean,  with  obstinate  repulse, 
To  slay  your  sovereign,  and  destroy  the  realm. 
You  see  what  mischief,  and  what  murder  too. 
Hath  been  enacted  through  your  enmity ; 
Then  be  at  peace,  except  ye  thirst  for  blood . 

IP  IN.  He  shall  submit,  or  I  will  never  yield. 

Glo.  Compassion  on  the   king   commands  me 
stoop ; 
Or,  I  would  see  his  heart  out,  ere  the  priest 
Should  ever  get  that  privilege  of  me. 

TVar.  Behold,  my  lord  of  Winchester,  the  duke 
Hath  banish'd  moody  discontented  fury, 
As  by  his  smoothed  brows  it  doth  appear  : 
Why  look  you  still  so  stern,  and  tragical  ? 

Glo.  Here,  Winchester,  I  offer  thee  my  hand. 

K.  Hen.  Fye,  uncle  Beaufort !  I  have  heard  you 
preach. 
That  malice  was  a  great  and  grievous  sin  : 
And  will  not  you  maintain  the  thing  you  teach. 
But  prove  a  chief  offender  in  the  same  ? 

fVjR.  Sweet  king! — the   bishop  hath  a  kindly 
gird  °. — 

5  My  lord  protector,  yield  ;]  Old  copy — "  Yield,  my  lord  pro- 
tector."    This  judicious  transposition  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer, 

Steevens. 

^  —  hath  a  kindly  gird.]  i.  e.  feels  an  emotion  of  kind  re- 
morse.     JoHNSOIf. 

A  kindly  gird  is  a  gentle  ox  friendly  reproof.     Falstaff  observes. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  85 

For  shame,  my  lord  of  Winchester  !  relent ; 
What,  shall  a  child  instruct  you  what  to  do  ? 

IViN.  Well,  duke  of  Gloster,  I  will  yield  to  thee ; 
Love  for  thy  love,  and  hand  for  hand  I  give. 

Glo.  Ay ;  but  I  fear  me,  with  a  hollow  heart. — 
See  here,  my  friends,  and  loving  countrymen ; 
This  token  serveth  for  a  flag  of  truce, 
Betwixt  ourselves,  and  all  our  followers : 
So  help  me  God,  as  I  dissemble  not ! 

fFiN.  So  help  me  God,  as  I  intend  it  not ! 

[Aside. 

K.  Hen.  O  loving  uncle,  kind  duke  of  Gloster  \ 
How  joyful  am  I  made  by  this  contract ! — 
Away,  my  masters  !  trouble  us  no  more  ; 
But  join  in  friendship,  as  your  lords  have  done. 

1  Serf.  Content;  111  to  the  surgeon's. 

2  Serf.  And  so  will  I. 

3  Serv.  And  I  will  see  what  physick  the  tavern 

affords.        \_E.veunt  Servants,  Mayor,  8^c. 
War.  Accept   this  scroll,    most   gracious  sove- 
reign ; 
Which  in  the  right  of  Richard  Plantagenet 
We  do  exhibit  to  your  majesty. 

Glo.  Well   urg'd,    my   lord  of  Warwick  \ — for, 
sweet  prince, 

that  "  men  of  all  sorts  take  a  pride  to  gird  at  him  :  "  and,  in  The 
Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Baptista  says  :  "  Tranio  hits  vou  now  :  "  to 
which  Lucentio  answers  : 

"  1  thank  thee  for  that  gird,  good  Tranio."     Steevens. 

The  word  g'ij-ii  does  not  here  signify  reproof,  as  Steevens  sup- 
poses, but  a  twitch,  a.  pang,  di  yearning  of  kindness.     M.  Mason. 

I  wish  Mr.  M.  Mason  had  produced  any  example  of  gird  used 
in  the  sense  for  which  he  contends,  I  cannot  supply  one  for  him, 
or  I  most  readily  would.     Steevens. 

Mr.  Malone  in  a  note  on  a  passage  in  Coriolanus,  vol.  xiv.  p.  21, 
n.  2,  says,  that  to  gird  means  to  pluck,  or  tvoinge,  and  informs  us 
that  Cotgrave  makes  ^^r^  and  toiwo^e  synonymous.     M.  Mason. 

But  nothing  is  said  of  2i  yearning  of  kindness.     Boswell. 

7  —  kind  duke  of  Gloster.]  For  the  sake  of  metre,  I  could 
wish  to  read — 

"  — —  most  kind  duke,"  &c.     Steevens. 


86  FIRST  PART  OF  act  iii. 

An  if  your  grace  mark  every  circumstance, 
You  have  great  reason  to  do  Richard  right  ; 
Especially,  for  those  occasions 
At  Eltham-place  I  told  your  majesty. 

K.  Hen.    And    those  occasions,  uncle,  were  of 
force : 
Therefore,  my  loving  lords,  our  pleasure  is. 
That  Richard  be  restored  to  his  blood. 

War.  Let  Richard  be  restored  to  his  blood ; 
So  shall  his  father's  wrongs  be  recompens'd. 

PViN.  As  will  the  rest,  so  willeth  Winchester. 

K.  Hen.  If  Richard  will  be  true,  not  that  alone  ^ 
But  all  the  whole  inheritance  I  give, 
That  doth  belong  unto  the  house  of  York, 
From  whence  you  spring  by  lineal  descent. 

Plan.  Thy  humble  servant  vows  obedience. 
And  humble  service,  till  the  point  of  death. 

K.  Hen.  Stoop  then,  and  set  your  knee  against 
my  foot ; 
And,  in  reguerdon  ^  of  that  duty  done, 
I  girt  thee  with  the  valiant  sword  of  York : 
Rise,  Richard,  like  a  true  Plantagenet ; 
And  rise  created  princely  duke  of  York. 

Plan.  And  so  thrive  Richard,  as  thy  foes  may 
fall ! 
And  as  my  duty  springs  so  perish  they 
That  grudge  one  thought  against  your  majesty, 

All.  Welcome,  high  prince,  the  mighty  duke  of 
York  ! 

SoM.  Perish,  base  prince,  ignoble  duke  of  York  ! 

[Aside. 

Glo.  Now  will  it  best  avail  your  majesty, 

^  —  that  alone,]  By  a  mistake  probably  of  the  transcriber, 
the  old  copy  reads — "  that  «// alone."  The  correction  was  made 
by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

9  —  reguerdon — ]     Recompence,  return.     Johnson. 

It  is  perhaps  a  corruption  of — regardum,  middle  Latin.  See 
vol.  iv.  p.  333,  n.  5.     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  87 

To  cross  the  seas,  and  to  be  crown'd  in  France : 
The  presence  of  a  king  engenders  love 
Amongst  his  subjects,  and  his  loyal  friends; 
As  it  disanimates  his  enemies. 

X.  Hen.    When  Gloster  says   the  word,    king 
Henry  goes ; 
For  friendly  counsel  cuts  off  many  foes. 
Glo.  Your  ships  already  are  in  readiness. 

\_E.vennt  all  but  Exeter. 
ExE.  Ay,  we  may  march  in  England,  or  in  France, 
Not  seeing  what  is  likely  to  ensue  ; 
This  late  dissention,  grown  betwixt  the  peers, 
Burns  under  feigned  ashes  of  forg'd  love  \ 
And  will  at  last  break  out  into  a  flame : 
As  fester'd  members  rot  but  by  degrees. 
Till  bones,  and  flesh,  and  sinews,  fall  away. 
So  will  this  base  and  envious  discord  breed  ^. 
And  now  I  fear  that  fatal  prophecy, 
Which,  in  the  time  of  Henry,  nam'd  the  fifth. 
Was  in  the  mouth  of  every  sucking  babe, — 
That  Henry,  born  at  Monmouth,  should  win  all ; 
And  Henry,  born  at  Windsor,  should  lose  all : 
Which  is  so  plain,  that  Exeter  doth  wish 
His  days  may  finish  ere  that  hapless  time  ^.  \_Exit. 

'  Burns  under  feigned  ashes  of  forg'd  love,] 

Ignes  suppositos  cineri  doloso.     Hor.     Malone. 
^  So  will  this  base  and  envious  discord  breed.]     That  is,  so  will 
the  malignity  of  this  discord  propagate  itself,  and  advance. 

Johnson, 
3  His  days  may  finish,  &c.]     The  Duke  of  Exeter  died  shortly 
after  the  meeting  of  this  parliament,   and  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
was  ajipointed  governor  or  tutor  to  the  King  in  his  room. 

Malone. 


88  FIRST  PART  OF  ^cr  in. 

SCENE  II. 

France.     Before  Roiien. 

Enter  La  Pucelle  disguised,  and  Soldiers  dressed 
like  Countrymen,  xvith  Sacks  upon  their  Backs. 

Puc.  These   are   the  city   gates,   the  gates   of 

Roiien  ^ 
Through  which  our  policy  must  make  9,  breach : 
Take  heed,  be  wary  how  you  place  your  words  ; 
Talk  like  the  vulgar  sort  of  market-men, 
That  come  to  gather  money  for  their  corn. 
If  we  have  entrance,  (as,  I  hope,  we  shall,) 
And  that  we  find  the  slothful  watch  but  weak, 
I'll  by  a  sign  give  notice  to  our  friends, 
That  Charles  the  Dauphin  may  encounter  them. 
1  Sold.  Our  sacks  shall  be  a  mean  to  sack  the 

city  \ 
And  we  be  lords  and  rulers  over  Roiien  ; 
Therefore  we'll  knock.  [^Knocks, 

Guard.  [Within.]     Qui  est  la^? 

4  —  the  gates  of  Roiien,']  Here,  and  throughout  the  play,  in 
the  old  copy,  we  have  Roan,  which  was  the  old  spelling  oi  Rouen. 
The  word,  consequently,  is  used  as  a  monosyllable.  See  the 
next  page,  1.  4,  and  last  line  but  one.     Malone. 

I  do  not  perceive  the  necessity  of  considering  Rouen  here  as  a 
monosyllable.     Would  not  the  verse  have  been  sufficiently  regu- 
lar, had  the  scene  been  in  England,  and  authorized  Shakspeare  to 
write  (with  a  dissyllabical  termination,  familiar  to  the  drama)— 
"  These  are  the  city  gates,  the  gates  of  Londoii  ?  " 

Steevens. 

If  the  verse  elsewhere  requires  it  to  be  a  monosyllable,  and  if  it 
was  spelt  as  such,  I  think  my  position  is  sufficiently  certain. 

Malone. 

^  Our  SACKS  shall  be  a  mean  to  sack  the  city,]  Falstaff  has 
the  same  quibble,  showing  his  bottle  of  sack  :  "  Here's  that  will 
sack  a  city."     Steevens. 

^  Qui  EST  1^  ?]  Old  copy — C/ie  la.  For  the  emendation  I  ani 
answerable.     Malone. 

Late  editions — Qui  va  la?    Steevens^ 


sc,  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  89 

Puc.  Paisans,  pauvres  gens  de  France  : 
Poor  market-folks,  that  come  to  sell  their  corn. 
Glurd.  Enter,  go  in ;  the  market-bell  is  rung. 

[Opens  the  gates. 

Puc.  Now,  Roiien,  I'll  shake  thy  bulwarks  to  the 

ground.       [Pucelle,  ^c.  enter  the  City. 

Enter  Charles,  Bastard  of  Orleans,  Alencon, 

and  Forces. 

Char.  Saint  Dennis  bless  this  happy  stratagem ! 
And  once  again  we'll  sleep  secure  in  Roiien. 

Bast.   Here   enter'd  Pucelle,  and   her  practis- 
ants  ^ ; 
Now  she  is  there,  how  will  she  specify 
Where  is  ^  the  best  and  safest  passage  in  ? 

Alen.  By  thrusting  out   a  torch   from  yonder 
tower ; 
Which,  once  discerned,  shows,  that  her  meaning 

is,— 
No  way  to  that^  for  weakness,  which  she  enter'd. 

Enter  La  Pucelle  on  a  Battlement :  holding  out  a 

Torch  burning. 

Puc.  Behold,  this  is  the  happy  wedding  torch. 
That  joineth  Roiien  unto  her  countrymen  j 
But  burning  fatal  to  the  Talbotites. 

7  Here  enter'd  Pucelle,  and  her  practisants  :]  Practice,  in 
the  language  of  that  time,  was  treachery,  and  perhaps  in  the  softer 
sense  stratagem.  Practisants  are  therefore  confederates  in  strata- 
gems.    Johnson. 

So,  in  the  Induction  to  The  Taming  of  The  Shrew : 

"  Sirs,  I  will  practice  on  this  drunken  man."     Steevens. 
^  Where  is  — ]  Old  copy — Here  is.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe. 

Malone. 
9  No  way  to  that,]     That  is,   «o  ivay  equal  to  that,  no  way  so 
fit  as  that.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona: 

"  There  is  no  woe  to  his  correction."     Steevens. 


90  FIRST  PART  OF  act  in. 

Bast.  See,  noble    Charles !  the  beacon  of  our 
friend, 
The  burning  torch  in  yonder  turret  stands. 

Char.  Now  shine  it  like  a  comet  of  revenge, 
A  prophet  to  the  fall  of  all  our  foes  ! 

Alen.  Defer  no  time,  Delays   have   dangerous 
ends; 
Enter,  and  cry — The  Dauphin! — presently. 
And  then  do  execution  on  the  watch.    [They  enter. 

Alarums.     Enter  Talbot,  and  certain  English. 

Tal.  France,   thou  shalt  rue  this  treason  with 
thy  tears  \ 
If  Talbot  but  survive  thy  treachery. — 
Pucelle,  that  witch,  that  damned  sorceress. 
Hath  wrought  this  hellish  mischief  unawares. 
That  hardly  we  escap'd  the  pride  of  France  '^. 

[Ea:eunt  to  the  Town. 

'  France,  thou  shalt  rue  this,  &c.]     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  France,  thou  shalt  rue  this  hour,"  &c.     Steevens, 
-  That  hardly  we  escap'd  the  pride  of  France.]     PnWe  signifies 
the  haughty  j}orver.     The  same  speaker  says  afterwards,  Act  IV. 
Sc.  VI. :     ■ 

"  And  from  the  pride  of  Gallia  rescu'd  thee." 
One  would  think  this  plain  enough.     But  what  won't  a  puzzling 
critick  obscure  !  Mr.  Theobald  savs — Pride  of  France  is  an  absurd 
and  unmeaning  expression,  and  therefore  alters  it  to  prize   of 
France ;  and  in  this  is  followed  by  the  Oxford  editor. 

Warburton. 
Dr.  Warburton,  I  believe,  has  rightly  explained  the  force  of  the 
word — pride,  which  indeed  is  asunfamiliarly  used  by  Chapman,  in 
his  version  of  the  tenth  Iliad  : 

"  And  therefore  will  not  tempt  his  fate,  nor  ours,  with  further 
pride." 
Again,  in  the  eleventh  Iliad  : 

" he  died 

"  Far  from  his  newly-married  wife,  in  aid  of  (orei^n  pride." 
Our  author,  however,  in  King  Henry  V.  has  the  same  phrase  : 
"  — —  could  entertain 
"  With  half  their  forces  the  full  pride  of  France." 

Steevens. 


sc.  jj.  KING  HENRY  VI.  91 


Alarum:  Ej^cursions.  Enter,  from  the  Tozv?j, 
Bedford,  brought  in  sick,  in  a  Chair,  ivith  Tal- 
bot, Burgundy,  and  the  English  Forces.  Then, 
enter  on  the  J  Vails,  La  Pucelle,  Charles,  Bas- 
tard, Alencon^,  and  Others. 

Puc.  Good  morrow,  gallants !  want  ye  corn  for 
bread  ? 
I  think,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  will  fast. 
Before  he'll  buy  again  at  such  a  rate  : 
'Twas  full  of  darnel  '* ;  Do  you  like  the  taste  ? 
Bur.  Scoff  on,  vile  fiend,  and  shameless  courte- 
zan ! 
I  trust,  ere  long,  to  choke  thee  with  thine  own. 
And  make  thee  curse  the  harvest  of  that  corn. 
Char.  Your  grace   may  starve,  perhaps,  before 

that  time. 
Bed.  O,  let  no  words,  but  deeds,  revenge  this 
treason  ! 


3  —  Alengon,']  Alengon  Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  replaced  here,  in- 
stead of  Reignier,  because  Alengon,  not  Reignier,  appears  in  the 
ensuing  scene.     Johnson. 

4  —  darnel ;]     So,  in  King  Lear  : 

"  Darnel,  and  all  the  idle  weeds  that  grow 
"  In  our  sustaining  corn." 

"  Darnel  (jays  Gerard)  hurteth  the  eyes,  and  maketh  them  dim, 
if  it  happen  either  in  come  for  breade,  ordrinke."  Hence  the  old 
proverb — LoJio  victitare,  applied  to  such  as  were  dim-sighted. 
Thus  also,  Ovid,  Fast.  i.  691  : 

Et  careant  loliis  ocidos  vitiantibus  agri. 

Pucelle  means  to  intimate,  that  the  corn  she  carried  with  her, 
had  produced  the  same  effect  on  the  guards  of  Rouen  ;  otherwise 
they  would  have  seen  through  her  disguise,  and  defeated  her  stra- 
tagem,    Steevens. 

Darnel  is  the  lolium  temidentum,  so  called,  because  when  the 
seeds  happen  to  be  ground  with  corn,  the  bread  made  of  this  mix- 
ture always  occasions  giddiness  and  sickness  in  those  who  eat  it. 
It  resembles  wheat  in  its  appearance,  whence  Dr.  Campbell  is  of 
opinion,  that  it  was  the  ^i^avtu  of  St.  Matth.  xiii.  25,  improperly 
rendered  tares  in  our  authorized  version.     Blakeway. 


92  FIRST  PART  OF  act  iii. 

Puc.  What  will  you  do,  good  grey-beard  ?  break 
a  lance. 
And  run  a  tilt  at  death  within  a  chair  ? 

Tal.  Foul  fiend  of  France,  and  hag  of  all  de- 
spite, 
Encompass'd  with  thy  lustful  paramours  ! 
Becomes  it  thee  to  taunt  his  valiant  age. 
And  twit  with  cowardice  a  man  half  dead  ? 
Damsel,  I'll  have  a  bout  with  you  again. 
Or  else  let  Talbot  perish  with  this  shame. 

Puc.  Are  you  so  hot,  sir  ? — Yet,  Pucelle,  hold 
thy  peace ; 
If  Talbot  do  but  thunder,  rain  will  follow. — 

[Talbot,  and  the  rest,  consult  together. 
God   speed    the    parliament !    who  shall   be    the 
speaker  ? 
Tal.  Dare  ye  come  forth,  and  meet  us  in  the 

field  ? 
Puc.  Belike,  your  lordship  takes  us  then  for  fools. 
To  try  if  that  our  own  be  ours,  or  no. 

Tal.  I  speak  not  to  that  railing  Hecate, 
But  unto  thee,  Alen9on,  and  the  rest ; 
Will  ye,  like  soldiers,  come  and  fight  it  out  ? 
Alen.  Signior,  no. 

Tal.  Signior,  hang ! — base  muleteers  of  France ! 
Like  peasant  foot-boys  do  they  keep  the  walls, 
And  dare  not  take  up  arms  like  gentlemen. 

Puc.  Captains,  away  :  let's  get  us  from  the  walls  j 
For  Talbot  means  no  goodness,  by  his  looks. — 
God  be  wi'  you,  my  lord !  we  came,  but  to  tell 

you  ^ 
That  we  are  here. 

\_Exeiint  La  Pucelle,  S^c.from  the  Walls. 
Tal.  And  there  will  we  be  too,  ere  it  be  long, 

5  —  we  came,  sir,  but  to  tell  you  — ]     The  word — sir,  which  is 
wanting  in  the  first  folio,  was  judiciously  supplied  by  the  second. 

Steevens. 


sc.  IT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  93 

Or  else  reproach  be  Talbot's  greatest  fame  ! — 

Vow,  Burgundy,  by  honour  of  thy  house, 

(Prick'd  on  by  publick  wrongs,  sustain'd  in  France,) 

Either  to  get  the  town  again,  or  die  ; 

And  I, — as  sure  as  Enghsh  Henry  lives. 

And  as  his  father  here  was  conqueror  ; 

As  sure  as  in  this  late -betrayed  town 

Great  Coeur-de-lion's  heart  was  buried  ; 

So  sure  I  swear,  to  get  the  town,  or  die. 

Bur.  My  vows  are  equal  partners  with  thy  vows. 

T^L.  But,  ere  we  go,  regard  this  dying  prince, 
The  valiant  duke  of  Bedford  : — Come,  my  lord, 
We  will  bestow  you  in  some  better  place. 
Fitter  for  sickness,  and  for  crazy  age. 

Bed.  Lord  Talbot,  do  not  so  dishonour  me  : 
Here  will  I  sit  before  the  walls  of  Roiien, 
And  will  be  partner  of  your  weal,  or  woe, 

Bur.  Courageous  Bedford,  let  us  now  persuade 
you. 

Bed.  Not  to  be  gone  from  hence :  for  once  I  read. 
That  stout  Pendragon,  in  his  litter  ^  sick, 

^  —  once  I  read. 
That  stout  Pendragon,  in  his  litter,  &c.]     This  hero  was 
Uther  Pendragon,  brother  to  Aurelius,  and  father  to  King  Ar- 
thur. 

Shakspeare  has  imputed  to  Pendragon  an  exploit  of  Aurelius, 
who,  says  Holinshed,  "  even  sicke  of  a  flixe  as  he  was,  caused 
himselfe  to  be  carried  forth  in  a  litter  :  with  whose  presence  his 
people  were  so  incouraged,  that  encountering  with  the  Saxons  they 
wan  the  victorie."     Hist,  of  Scotland,  p.  99. 

Harding,  however,  in  his  Chronicle  (as  I  learn  from  Dr.  Grey) 
gives  the  following  account  of  Uther  Pendragon  : 
"  For  which  the  king  ordain'd  a  horse-litter 
"  To  bear  him  so  then  unto  Verolame, 
"  Where  Ocea  lay,  and  Oysa  also  in  fear, 
'•'  That  saint  Albones  now  hight  of  noble  fame, 
"  Bet  down  the  walles  ;  but  to  him  forth  they  came, 
"  Where  in  battayle  Ocea  and  Oysa  were  slayn. 
"  The  fielde  he  had,  and  thereof  was  full  fayne." 

Steevens. 


94  FIRST  PART  OF  act  in. 

Came  to  the  field,  and  vanquished  his  foes: 
Methinks,  I  should  revive  the  soldiers'  hearts. 
Because  I  ever  found  them  as  myself. 

Tal.  Undaunted  spirit  in  a  dying  breast ! — 
Then   be    it    so  :  —  Heavens    keep    old    Bedford 

safe ! — 
And  now  no  more  ado,  brave  Burgundy, 
But  gather  we  our  forces  out  of  hand, 
And  set  upon  our  boasting  enemy. 

\_Exeunt  Burgundy,  Talbot,  and  Forces, 
leaving  Bedford,  and  Others. 

Alarum  :  Excursions.     Enter  Sir  John  Fastolfe^ 

and  a  Captain. 

Cap.  Whither  away,  sir  John  Fastolfe,  in  such 

haste  ? 
Fast.   Whither  away  .^  to  save  myself  by  flight  "^ ; 
We  are  like  to  have  the  overthrow  again. 

Cap.  What !  will  you  fly,  and  leave  lord  Talbot.^ 
Fast.  Ay, 

All  the  Talbots  in  the  world,  to  save  my  life.  [^E.vit. 
Cap.  Cowardly  knight !  ill  fortune  follow  thee  ! 

\_E.vit. 

Retreat :  Excursions.     Enter,  from  the  Tozon,  La 
PucELLE,  Alen^on,  Charles,  8^c,  and  Exeunt, 

Bed.  Now,  quiet  soul,  depart  when  heaven  please. 
For  I  have  seen  our  enemies'  overthrow. 


7  — save  myself  by  flight ;]  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  vras  the 
exaggerated  representation  of  Sir  John  Fastolfe's  coivardice  which 
the  author  of  this  play  has  given,  that  induced  Shakspeare  to  give 
the  name  of  Falstaff  to  his  knight.  Sir  John  Fastolfe  did  indeed 
fly  at  the  battle  of  Pataij  in  the  year  14'29  ;  and  is  reproached 
by  Talbot  in  a  subsequent  scene,  for  his  conduct  on  that  occasion  ; 
but  no  historian  has  said  that  he  fled  before  Rouen.     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  95 

What  is  the  trust  or  strength  of  foolish  man  ? 
They,  that  of  late  were  daring  with  their  scoffs. 
Are  glad  and  fain  by  flight  to  save  themselves. 

[Dies^,  and  is  carried  off  in  his  Chair. 

Alarum.     Enter  Tjlbot^  Burgundy,  amd  Others. 

Tal.  Lost,  and  recover'd  in  a  day  again  ! 
This  is  a  double  honour,  Burgundy  : 
Yet,  heavens  have  glory  for  this  victory ! 

Bur.  Warlike  and  martial  Talbot,  Burgundy 
Enshrines  thee  in  his  heart ;  and  there  erects 
Thy  noble  deeds,  as  valour's  monument. 

Tal.  Thanks,  gentle  duke.     But  where  is  Pu- 
celle  now  .^ 
I  think  her  old  familiar  is  asleep  : 
Now  Where's  the  Bastard's  braves,  and   Charles  his 

gleeks  ? 
What,   all  a-mort  ^  ^    Roiien  hangs  her  head    for 

grief. 
That  such  a  valiant  company  are  fled. 
Now  will  we  take  some  order  '  in  the  town, 
Placing  therein  some  expert  officers; 
And  then  depart  to  Paris  to  the  king; 
For  there  young  Harry,  with  his  nobles,  lies. 

Bur.    What  wills   lord   Talbot,    pleaseth   Bur- 
gundy. 

Tal.  But  yet,  before  we  go,  let's  not  forget 
The  noble  duke  of  Bedford,  late  deceas'd, 
But  see  his  exequies  fulfill'd  in  Roiien  ; 

^  Dies,  &c.]     The  Duke  of  Bedford  died  at  Rouen  in  Septem- 
ber,  1435,  but  not  in  any  action  before  that  town.     Malone. 

9  What,  ALL  A-MORT?]     i.  e,  quite  dispirited;  a  frequent  Gal- 
licism.    So,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  : 

"  What,  sweeting  !  all  a-mort'? ''     Steevens. 
'  —  TAKE  some  ORDER  — ]     i.  e.  make  some  necessaiy  dispo- 
tions.     So,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors: 

"  Whilst  to  take  order  for  the  wrong  I  went." 
See  also  Othello,  Sc.  ult.     Steevens. 


96  FIRST  PART  OF  act  in. 

A  braver  soldier  never  couched  lance  "^j 

A  gentler  heart  did  never  sway  in  court: 

But  kings,  and  mightiest  potentates,  must  die ; 

For  that's  the  end  of  human  misery.  \_E.veunt. 


SCENE  IIL 

The  Same.     The  Plains  near  the  City. 

Enter  Charles^  the  Bastard,  Alen^on,  La  Pu' 

CELLE,  and  Forces. 

Puc.  Dismay  not,  princes,  at  this  accident, 
Nor  grieve  that  Roiien  is  so  recovered  : 
Care  is  no  cure,  but  rather  corrosive  ^, 
For  things  that  are  not  to  be  remedied. 
Let  frantick  Talbot  triumph  for  a  while, 
And  like  a  peacock  sweep  along  his  tail ; 
We'll  pull  his  plumes,  and  take  away  his  train. 
If  Dauphin,  and  the  rest,  will  be  but  rul'd. 

Char.  We  have  been  guided  by  thee  hitherto, 
And  of  thy  cunning  had  no  diffidence  ; 
One  sudden  foil  shall  never  breed  distrust. 

Bast.  Search  out  thy  wit  for  secret  policies, 
And  we  will  make  thee  famous  through  the  world. 

Alen.  We'll  set  thy  statue  in  some  holy  place, 
And  have  thee  reverenc'd  like  a  blessed  saint ; 
Employ  thee  then,  sweet  virgin,  for  our  good. 

Puc.  Then  thus  it  must  be  ;  this  doth  Joan  devise : 


*  A  braver  soldier  never  couched  lance,]     So,  in  a  subsequent 
scene,  p.  102 : 

"  A  stouter  champion  never  handled  sword." 
The  same  phrase  is  expressed  with  more  animation  in  the  Third 
Part  of  this  play  : 

" braver  men 

"  Ne'er  spur'd  their  coursers  at  the  trumpet's  sound." 

Steevens. 
3  —  corrosive.]     Should  we  not  read  a  corrosive?     Boswell. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  97 

By  fair  persuasions,  mix'd  with  sugar'd  words, 
We  will  entice  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
To  leave  the  Talbot,  and  to  follow  us. 

Char.  Ay,  marry,  sweeting,  if  we  could  do  that, 
France  were  no  place  for  Henry's  warriors ; 
Nor  should  that  nation  boast  it  so  with  us. 
But  be  extirped  from  our  provinces  ^. 

Alen.   For  ever  should  they  be  expuls'd  from 
France  ^, 
And  not  have  title  to  an  earldom  here. 

Fvc.  Your  honours    shall  perceive  how   I   will 
work. 
To  bring  this  matter  to  the  wished  end. 

\I)rums  heard. 
Hark !  by  the  sound  of  drum,  you  may  perceive 
Their  powers  are  marching  unto  Paris-ward. 

An  English  March.     Enter,  and  pass  over  at  a  dis- 
tance, Talbot  and  his  Forces. 

There  goes  the  Talbot,  with  his  colours  spread ; 
And  all  the  troops  of  English  after  him. 

A  French  March.     Enter  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 

and  Forces. 

Now,  in  the  rearward,  comes  the  duke,  and  his ; 
Fortune,  in  favour,  makes  him  lag  behind. 
Summon  a  parley,  we  will  talk  with  him. 

\_A  Parley  sounded. 

4  But  be  EXTIRPED  froiti  our  provinces.]     To  extirp  is  to  root 
out.     So,  in  Lord  Sterline's  Darius,  1603  : 

*'  The  world  shall  gather  to  extirp  our  name." 

Steevens. 

5  — expuls'd  from    France,]     i.   e.   expelled.     So,    in  Ben 
Jonson's  Sejanus : 

"  The  expulsed  Apicata  finds  them  there." 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Muses  Elizium  : 

"  And  if  you  expulse  them  there, 

"  They'll  hang  upon  your  braided  hair."     Steevens. 
V(3I..  XVI II.  H 


98  FIRST  PART  OF  act  in. 

Char,  a  parley  with  the  duke  of  Burgundy. 

Bun.  Who  craves  a  parley  with  the  Burgundy  ? 

Puc.  The  princely  Charles  of  France,  thy  coun- 
tryman. 

Bur.  What  say'st  thou,  Charles  ?  for  I  am  march- 
ing hence. 

Char.  Speak,  Pucelle;    and   enchant  him  with 
thy  words. 

Puc.  Brave  Burgundy,  undoubted  hope  of  France ! 
Stay,  let  thy  humble  handmaid  speak  to  thee. 

Bur.  Speak  on  ;  but  be  not  over-tedious. 

Puc.  Look  on  thy  country,  look  on  fertile  France, 
And  see  the  cities  and  the  towns  defac'd 
By  wasting  ruin  of  the  cruel  foe! 
As  looks  the  mother  on  her  lowly  babe  ^, 
When  death  doth  close  his  tender  dying  eyes, 
See,  see,  the  pining  malady  of  France  ; 
Behold  the  wounds,  the  most  unnatural  wounds. 
Which  thou  thyself  hast  given  her  woful  breast ! 
O,  turn  thy  edged  sword  another  way ; 
Strike  those  that  hurt,  and  hurt  not  those  that  help ! 
One  drop'of  blood,  drawn  from  thy  country's  bosom. 
Should  grieve  thee  more  than  streams  of  foreign 

gore  ; 
Return  thee,  therefore,  with  a  flood  of  tears. 
And  wash  away  thy  country's  stained  spots  ! 

Bur.  Either  she    hath   bewitch'd  me  with  her 
words. 
Or  nature  makes  me  suddenly  relent. 

Puc.  Besides,  all  French  and  France  exclaims  on 
thee, 

^  As  looks  the  mother  on  her  lowly  babe,]  It  is  plain  Shak- 
speare  wrote — loveli/  babe,  it  answering  to  fertile  France  above, 
which  this  domestic  image  is  brought  to  illustrate.    Warburton. 

The  alteration  is  easy  and  probable,  but  perhaps  the  poet  by 
lorvlt/  babe  meant  the  babe  lying  low  in  death.  Loxvly  answers 
as  well  to  towns  defaced  and  wasting  ruin,  as  lovely  io  fertile. 

Johnson. 


sc.  ///.  KING  HENRY  VI.  99 

Doubting  thy  birth  and  lawful  progeny. 
Who  join'st  thou  with,  but  with  a  lordly  nation, 
That  will  not  trust  thee,  but  for  profit's  sake  ? 
When  Talbot  hath  set  footing  once  in  France, 
And  fashion'd  thee  that  instrument  of  ill, 
Who  then,  but  English  Henry,  will  be  lord, 
And  thou  be  thrust  out,  like  a  fugitive  ? 
Call  we  to  mind, — and  mark  but  this,  for  proof; — 
Was  not  the  duke  of  Orleans  thy  foe  ? 
And  was  he  not  in  England  prisoner  ? 
But,  when  they  heard  he  was  thine  enemy. 
They  set  him  free  \  without  his  ransom  paid. 
In  spite  of  Burgundy,  and  all  his  friends. 
See  then  !  thou  fight'st  against  thy  countrymen. 
And  join'st  with  them  will  be  thy  slaughter-men. 
Come,  come,  return  ;  return,  thou  wand'ring  lord  ; 
Charles,  and  the  rest,  will  take  thee  in  their  arms. 
Bur.  I  am  vanquished;  these  haughty  words  of 
hers 
Have  batter'd  me  like  roaring  cannon-shot  ^, 

'  They  set  him  free,  &c.]  A  mistake  :  The  Duke  was  not 
liberated  till  nfter  Burgundy's  decline  to  the  French  interest ; 
which  did  not  happen,  by  the  way,  till  some  years  after  the  exe- 
cution of  this  very  Joan  la  Pucelle  ;  nor  was  that  during  the  re- 
gency of  York,  but  of  Bedford.  Ritson. 
8  —  these  HAUGHTY  words  of  hers 
Have  batter'd  me  like  roaring  cannon-shot,]  How  these 
lines  came  hither  I  know  not ;  there  was  nothing  in  the  speech 
of  Joan  haughty  or  violent,  it  was  all  soft  entreaty  and  mild  ex- 
postulation.    Johnson. 

Haus,hty  does  not  mean   violent  in   this  place,  but  elevated, 
hiqh-spirifed.     It  is  used  in  a  similar  sense,  in  two  other  passages 
in  this  very  play.     In  a  preceding  scene  Mortimer  says  : 
"  But  mark  ;  as  in  this  haughty,  great  attempt, 
"  They  laboured  to  plant  the  rightful  heir — ." 
And  again,  in  the  next  scene,  Talbot  says : 

"  Knights  of  the  Garter  were  of  noble  birth, 
"  Valiant,  and  virtuous ;  full  of  haughty  courage." 
At  first  interview  with  Joan,  the  Dauphin  says  : 

"  Thou  hast  astonish'd  me  with  thy  high  terms  ;  " 

H  2 


TOO  FIRST  PART  OF  act  iji. 

And  made  me  almost  yield  upon  my  knees. — 
Forgive  me,  country,  and  sweet  countrymen ! 
And,  lords,  accept  this  hearty  kind  embrace  : 
My  forces  and  my  power  of  men  are  yours  ; — 
So,  farewell,  Talbot :  FlI  no  longer  trust  thee. 
Puc.  Done  like  a  Frenchman ;    turn,  and  turn 

again  ^ ! 
Char.    Welcome,    brave    duke !    thy  friendship 

makes  us  fresh. 
Bast.    And    doth   beget   new  courage   in    our 

breasts. 
Alen.  Pucelle  hath  bravely  played  her  part  in 
this. 
And  doth  deserve  a  coronet  of  gold. 

Char.  Now  let  us  on,  my  lords,'  and  join  our 
powers ; 
And  seek  how  we  may  prejudice  the  foe.  [Exeunt. 

meaning,    by   her  hicrh   terms,  what   Burgundy  here    calls  her 
haucfldy  words,     M.  Mason. 

That  haughty  signifies  elevated  or  exalted,  may  be  ascertained 
by  the  following  passage  in  a  very  scarce  book  entitled,  A  Courtlie 
Controversie  of  Cupid's  Cautels,  &c.  Translated  out  of  French, 
by  H.  W.  [Henry  VVotton]  Gentleman,  4-to.  1578,  p.  235  : 

"  Among  which  troupe  of  base  degree,  God  forbid  I  should 
place  you  deare  lady  Parthenia,  for  both  the  haughtie  bloud 
whereof  you  are  extraught,  and  also  the  graces  wherewith  the 
heauens  with  contention  have  enobled  you,  worthily  deserueth 
your  person  should  be  preferred  of  all  men,  among  the  most  ex- 
cellent Princesses."     Steevens. 

9  Done,  like  a  Frenchman ;  turn,  and  turn  again!]  The  in- 
constancy of  the  French  was  always  the  subject  of  satire.  I  have 
read  a  dissertation  written  to  prove  that  the  index  of  the  wind 
upon  our  steeples  was  made  in  form  of  a  cock,  to  ridicule  the 
French  for  their  frequent  changes.     Johnson. 

So  afterwards : 

"  In  France,  amongst  ajickle  xuavering  nation." 

Malone. 

In  Othello  we  have  the  same  phrase  : 

"  Sir,  she  can  turn,  and  turn,  and  yet  go  on, 
"  A7}d  turn  again."     Steevens. 


sc.iv.  KING  HENRY  VI.  101 

SCENE  IV. 
Paris.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry,   Gloster,  and  other  Lords, 

Vernon,  Basset,    8^c.      To  them  Talbot,  and 

some  of  his  Officers. 

Tal.    My    gracious    prince,  —  and   honourable 
peers, — 
Hearing  of  your  arrival  in  this  realm, 
I  have  a  while  given  truce  unto  my  wars. 
To  do  my  duty  to  my  sovereign  : 
In  sign  whereof,  this  arm — that  hath  reclaim'd 
To  your  obedience  fifty  fortresses, 
Twelve  cities,  and  seven  walled  towns  of  strength, 
Beside  five  hundred  prisoners  of  esteem, — 
Lets  fall  his  sword  before  your  highness'  feet ; 
And,  with  submissive  loyalty  of  heart, 
Ascribes  the  glory  of  his  conquest  got, 
First  to  my  God,  and  next  unto  your  grace. 

K,  Hen.  Is  this  the  lord  Talbot,  uncle  Gloster  \ 
That  hath  so  long  been  resident  in  France  ? 

Glo.  Yes,  if  it  please  your  majesty,  my  liege. 

K.  Hen.  Welcome,  brave  captain,  and  victorious 
lord  ! 
When  I  was  young,  (as  yet  1  am  not  old,) 
I  do  remember  how  my  father  said ', 
A  stouter  champion  never  handled  sword. 


'  Is  this  the  lord  Talbot,  uncle  Gloster,]     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer 
supplies  the  apparent  deficiency,  by  reading — 
"  Is  this  ihefam'd  lord  Talbot,"  &c. 
So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

*'  My  vjeWfam'tl  lord  of  Troy — ."     Steevens. 
*  I  do  remember  how  my  father  said,]     The  author  of  this  play 
was   not  a  very  correct  historian.     Henry  was  but  nine  months 
old  when  his  father  died,  and  never  even  saw  him.     Malone. 


102  FIRST  PART  OF  .icr  iii, 

Long  since  we  were  resolved  of  your  truth  ^, 
Your  faithful  service,  and  your  toil  in  war ; 
Yet  never  have  you  tasted  our  reward, 
Or  been  reguerdon'd'*  with  so  much  as  thanks. 
Because  till  now  we  never  saw  your  face : 
Therefore,  stand  up  ;  and,  for  these  good  deserts. 
We  here  create  you  earl  of  Shrewsbury ; 
And  in  our  coronation  take  your  place. 

\_Ej:eunt  King  Henry,  Gloster,  Talbot, 
and  Nobles. 

Ver.  Now,  sir,  to  you,  that  were  so  hot  at  sea. 
Disgracing  of  these  colours  that  I  wear  ^ 
In  honour  of  my  noble  lord  of  York, — 
Dar'st  thou  maintain  the  former  words  tiiou  spak'st  ? 

Bas.  Yes,  sir;  as  well  as  you  dare  patronage 
The  envious  barking  of  your  saucy  tongue 
Against  my  lord,  the  duke  of  Somerset. 

Ver.  Sirrah,  thy  lord  I  honour  as  he  is. 

Bas.  Why,  what  is  he  .^  as  good  a  man  as  York. 

Ver.  Hark  ye ;  not  so  :  in  witness,  take  ye  that. 

\_Styikes  him^ 

Bas.  Villain,  thou  know'st,  the  law  of  arms  is 
such. 
That,  who  so  draws  a  sword,  'tis  present  death  ^; 

3  — RESOLVED  of  youf  truth,]     i.  e.  confirmed  in  opinion  of 
it.     So,  in  the  Third  Part  of  this  play: 


I  am  resolv'd 


"  That  Clifford's  manhood  lies  upon  his  tongue." 

Steevens. 
4  Or  been  reguerdon'd — ]     i.  e.  rewarded.     The  word  was 
obsolete  even  in  the  time  of  Shakspcare.     Chaucer  uses  it  in  the 
Boke  of  Boethius.     Steevens. 

^  — these  COLOURS  that  I  wear — ]  This  was  the  badge  of  a 
rose,  and  not  an  officer's  scarf.  So,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Act  III.  Scene  the  last : 

*'  And  wear  his  colours  Hke  a  tumbler's  hoop."     Tollet. 
^  That,  WHO  so  draws  a  sword, 'tis  present  death  ;]   Shakspeare 
wrote : 

" draws  a  suoord  i'  th'  presence  't's  death  ;  " 

j.  e.  in  the  court,  or  in  the  presence  chamber,     Warburton. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  1U3 

Or  else  this  blow  should  broach  thy  dearest  blood. 
But  I'll  unto  his  majesty,  and  crave 
I  may  have  liberty  to  venge  this  wrong; 
When  thou  shalt  see,  I'll  meet  thee  to  thy  cost. 
JKer.  Well,  miscreant,  I'll  be  there  as  soon  as 
you; 
And,  after,  meet  you  sooner  than  you  would. 

\_Ej:eu?it. 

This  reading  cannot  be  right,  because,  as  Mr,  Edwards  ob- 
served, it  cannot  be  pronounced.  It  is,  however,  a  good  com- 
ment, as  it  shows  the  author's  meaning.     Johnson. 

I  believe  the  line  should  be  written  as  it  is  in  the  folio  : 

"  That,  tvho  so  draws  a  sword ," 

i.  e.  (as  Dr.  Warburton  has  observed,)  with  a  menace  in  the 
court,  or  in  the  presence  chamber. 

Johnson,  in  his  collection  of  Ecclesiastical  Laws,  has  preserved 
the  following,  which  was  made  by  Ina,  king  of  the  West  Saxons, 
693:  "  If  any  one  fight  in  the  king's  house,  let  him  forfeit  all  his 
estate,  and  let  the  king  deem  whether  he  shall  live  or  not."  I 
am  told  that  there  are  many  other  ancient  canons  to  the  same 
purpose.     Grey.     Steevens. 

Sir  William  Blackstone  observes  that,  "  by  the  ancient  \-a\v  be- 
fore the  Conquest,  fighting  in  the  kinv's  palace,  or  before  the 
king's  judges,  was  punished  with  death.  So  too,  in  the  old 
Gothic  constitution,  there  were  many  places  privileged  by  law, 
'  quibus  major  reverentia  et  securitas  debetur,  ut  templa  et  judi- 

cia  qusesancta  habebantur, arces  et  aula  legis, — denique  locus 

quilibet  presente  aut  adventante  rege.'  And  at  present  with  us, 
by  the  Stat.  33  Hen.  VIII.  c.  xii.  malicious  striking  in  the  king's 
palace,  wherein  his  royal  person  resides,  whereby  blood  is  drawn, 
is  punishable  by  perpetual  imprisonment  and  fine,  at  the  king's 
pleasure,  and  also  with  loss  of  the  offender's  right  hand,  the  so- 
lemn execution  of  which  sentence  is  prescribed  in  the  statute  at 
length."  Commentaries,  vol.  iv.  p.  IS-i.  "  By  the  ancient 
common  law,  also  before  the  Conquest,  striking  in  the  king's 
court  of  justice,  or  drawing  a  sword  therein,  was  a  capital  felony." 
Ibid.  p.  125.     Reed. 


104  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  ir. 

ACT  IV,     SCENE  I, 

The  Same.     A  Room  of  State. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Gloster,  Exeter,  York,  Suf' 
FOLK,  Somerset,  Winchester,  Warwick,  Tal- 
bot, the  Governour  of  Paris,  and  Others. 

Glo.  Lord  bishop,  set  the  cro\vn  upon  his  head. 
Win.  God  save  king  Henry,  of  that  name  the 

sixth  ! 
Glo.  Now,  governour  of  Paris,  take  your  oath, — 

\Governour  kneels^ 
That  you  elect  no  other  king  but  him  ; 
Esteem  none  friends,  but  such  as  are  his  friends ; 
And  none  your  foes,  but  such  as  shall  pretend  "^ 
Malicious  practices  against  his  state : 
This  shall  ye  do,  so  help  you  righteous  God  ! 

\_Ej:eunt  Gov.  and  his  Train. 

Enter  Sir  John  Fastolfe. 

Fast.  My  gracious  sovereign,   as   I  rode  from 
Calais, 
To  haste  unto  your  coronation, 
A  letter  was  deliver'd  to  my  hands, 
Writ  to  your  grace  from  the  duke  of  Burgundy. 

Tal.  Shame  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  and  thee  ! 
I  vow'd,  base  knight,  when  I  did  meet  thee  next. 
To  tear  the  garter  from  thy  craven's  leg^, 

[Plucking  it  off. 

7  —  such  as  shall  pretend — ]      To  pretend  is  to  design,  to 
intend.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  What  good  couhl  ihey  pretend?  "     Steevens. 

^  To  tear  the  garter  from  thy  ckaven's  leg,]     Thus  the  old 
copy.     Steevens. 

The  last  line  should  run  thus  : 


sc.  1.  KING  HENRY  VI.  105 

(Which  I  have  done)  because  unworthily 
Thou  wast  installed  in  that  high  degree. — 
Pardon  me,  princely  Henry,  and  the  rest : 
This  dastard,  at  the  battle  of  Patay  ^, 
When  but  in  all  I  was  six  thousand  strong, 
And  that  the  French  were  almost  ten  to  one, — 
Before  we  met,  or  that  a  stroke  was  given. 
Like  to  a  trusty  squire,  did  run  away  ; 
In  which  assault  we  lost  twelve  hundred  men ; 
Myself,  and  divers  gentlemen  beside, 
Were  there  surpriz'd,  and  taken  prisoners. 
Then  judge,  great  lords,  if  I  have  done  amiss  ; 
Or  whether  that  such  cowards  ought  to  wear 
This  ornament  of  knighthood,  yea,  or  no. 

Glo.  To  say  the  truth,  this  fact  was  infamous, 
And  ill  beseeming  any  common  man  ; 
Much  more  a  knight,  a  captain,  and  a  leader. 

Tal.    When  first  this  order  was  ordain'd,   my 
lords, 


" from  thy  craven  leg." 

i.  e.  thy  mean,  dastardly  leg.     Whalley. 

To  take  the  epithet  expressing  cowardice  from  the  person,  and 
to  apply  it  to  his  leg,  is  surely  no  very  obvious  improvement. 

BOSWELC. 

9  —  at  the  battle  of  Patay,]  The  old  copy  has — Poietiers. 
The  error  was  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Steevens.     Malone. 

The  battle  of  Poietiers  was  fought  in  the  year  1357,  the  31st  of 
King  Edward  III.  and  the  scene  now  lies  in  the  7th  year  of  the 
reign  of  King  Henry  VI.  viz.  HSS.  This  blunder  may  be  justly 
imputed  to  the  players  or  transcribers ;  nor  can  we  very  well 
justify  ourselves  for  permitting  it  to  continue  so  long,  as  it  was  too 
glaring  to  have  escaped  an  attentive  reader.  The  action  of  which 
Shakspeare  is  now  speaking,  happened  (according  to  Holinshed) 
"  neere  unto  a  village  in  Beausse  called  Patfiie,"  which  we 
should  read,  instead  of  Poietiers.  "  From  this  battell  departed 
without  anie  stroke  striken.  Sir  John  Fastnlfe,  the  same  yeere  by 
his  valiantnesse  elected  into  the  order  of  the  garter.  But  for 
doubt  of  misdealing  at  this  brunt,  the  duke  of  Bedford  tooke  from 
him  the  image  of  St.  George  and  his  garter,"  &c.  Holinshed, 
vol.  ii.  p.  601.  Monstrelet,  the  French  historian,  also  bears  wil- 
]iess  to  this  degradation  of  Sir  John  Fastolfe.     Steevens. 


106  FIRST  PART  OF  act  if. 

Knights  of  the  garter  were  of  noble  birth ; 
Valiant  and  virtuous,  full  of  haughty  courage  \ 
Such  as  were  grown  to  credit  by  the  wars ; 
Not  fearing  death,  nor  shrinking  for  distress. 
But  always  resolute  in  most  extremes  ^. 
He  then,  that  is  not  furnish'd  in  this  sort, 
Doth  but  usurp  the  sacred  name  of  knight, 
Profaning  this  most  honourable  order ; 
And  should  (if  I  were  worthy  to  be  judge,) 
Be  quite  degraded,  like  a  hedge-born  swain 
That  doth  presume  to  boast  of  gentle  blood. 

K,  Hen.  Stain  to  thy  countrymen  !  thou  hear'st 
thy  doom : 
Be  packing  therefore,  thou  that  wast  a  knight ; 
Henceforth  we  banish  thee,  on  pain  of  death. — 

\_Exit  Fastolfe. 
And  now,  my  lord  protector,  view  the  letter 
Sent  from  our  uncle  duke  of  Burgundy. 

Glo.  What  means  his  grace,  that  he  hath  chang'd 
his  style  .^      \Viexving  the  superscription. 
No  more  but,  plain  and  bluntly, — To  the  king  ? 
Hath  he  forgot,  he  is  his  sovereign  ? 
Or  doth  this  churlish  superscription 
Pretend  some  alteration  in  good  will  ^  ? 
What's  here  ? — /  have  upon  especial  cause, — 

[Reads. 

Mov^d  with  compassion  of  my  country's  wreck. 

Together  with  the  pitiful  complaints 


*  —  HAUGHTY    courage,]       Haughty  is  here  in  its  original 
sense  for /i/^A.     Johnson. 

^  — in  MOST  extremes.]     i.  e.  in  greatest   extremities.     So, 
Spenser : 

they  all  repair'd,  both  most  and  least." 


See  vol.  xi.  p.  258,  n.  9.     Steevens. 

3  Pretend  some  alteration  in  good  will  ?]  Thus  the  old  copy. 
To  pretend  seems  to  be  here  used  in  its  Latin  sense,  i.  e.  to  hold 
out,  io  stretch  forxjonrd .  It  may  mean,  however,  as  in  other  places, 
to  design.     Modern  editors  xfdA— portend .     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  107 

Of  such  as  your  oppression  feeds  upon, — 
Forsake?!  your  pernicious  faction. 
And  Join'd  xoitk    Charles,  the   rightful  king  of 
France. 

0  monstrous  treachery !  Can  this  be  so ; 
That  in  alliance,  amity,  and  oaths, 

There  should  be  found  such  false  dissembling  guile  ? 
K.  Hen.  What !   doth  my  uncle  Burgundy  re- 
volt? 
Glo.  He  doth,  my  lord;  and  is  become  your  foe. 
K.  Hen.  Is  that  the  worst,  this  letter  doth  con- 
tain? 
Glo.  It  is  the  worst,  and  all,  my  lord,  he  writes. 
K.  Hen.  Why  then,  lord  Talbot  there  shall  talk 
with  him. 
And  give  him  chastisement  for  this  abuse  : — 
How  say  you,  my  lord  "*  ?  are  you  not  content  ? 
Tal.  Content,  my  liege  ?  Yes,  but  that  I  am 
prevented^, 

1  should  have  begg'd  I  might  have  been  employ'd. 

K.  Hen.  Then  gather  strength,  and  march  unto 
him  straight : 
Let  him  perceive,  how  ill  we  brook  his  treason ; 
And  what  offence  it  is,  to  flout  his  friends. 

TjiL.  I  go,  my  lord  ;  in  heart  desiring  still. 
You  may  behold  confusion  of  your  foes.  [_Eiit. 


4  My  lord,  how  say  you  ?]     Old  copy — 

"  How  say  you,  my  lord  ?  " 
The  transposition  is  SirT.  Hanmer's.     Steevens. 
•5  —  I  am   PREVENTED,]     Prevented  is    here,   anticipated ;  a 
Latinism.     Malone. 

So,  in  our  Liturgy  :   "  Prevent  us,  O  Lord,  in  all  our  doings." 
Prior  is,  perhaps,  the  last  English  poet  who  used  this  verb  in 
its  obsolete  sense : 

"  Else  had  I  come,  preventing  Sheba's  queen, 
•'  To  see  the  comeliest  of  the  sons  of  men." 

Solomon,  book  ii.     Steevens. 


108  FIRST  PART  OF  act  if. 

Enter  Vernon  and  Basset, 

Ver.  Grant  me  the  combat,  gracious  sovereign  ! 

Bas.  And  me,  my  lord,  grant  me  the  combat  too ! 

York.    This  is  my  servant;    Hear  him,   noble 
prince  ! 

SoM.  And  this  is  mine;    Sweet  Henry,  favour 
him! 

K,  Hen.  Be  patient,  lords;  and  give  them  leave 
to  speak. — 
Say,  gentlemen.  What  makes  you  thus  exclaim  ? 
And  wherefore  crave  you  combat  ?  or  with  whom  ? 

Fer.  With  him,  my  lord  ;  for  he  hath  done  me 
wrong. 

Bas.  And  I  with  him  ;   for  he  hath  done  me 
wrong. 

K.  Hen.  What  is  that  wrong  whereof  you  both 
complain  ? 
First  let  me  know,  and  then  I'll  answer  you. 

Bas.  Crossing  the  sea  from  England  into  France, 
This  fellow  here,  with  envious  carping  tongue. 
Upbraided  me  about  the  rose  I  wear  ; 
Saying — the  sanguine  colour  of  the  leaves 
Did  represent  my  master's  blushing  cheeks. 
When  stubbornly  he  did  repugn  the  truth  ^, 
About  a  certain  question  in  the  law, 
Argu'd  betwixt  the  duke  of  York  and  him ; 
With  other  vile  and  ignominious  terms ; 
In  confutation  of  which  rude  reproach. 
And  in  defence  of  my  lord's  worthiness, 
I  crave  the  benefit  of  law  of  arms. 

Ver.  And  that  is  my  petition,  noble  lord: 
For  though  he  seem,  with  forged  quaint  conceit, 

^  —  did  REPUGN  the  truth,]    To  repugn  is  to  resist.    The  word 
IS  used  by  Chaucer.     Steevens. 

It  is  found  inBuUokars  English  Expositor,  8vo.  1616. 

Malone. 


sc.  J,  KING  HENRY  VI.  109 

To  set  a  gloss  upon  his  bold  intent, 
Yet  know,  my  lord,  I  was  provok'd  by  him ; 
And  he  first  took  exceptions  at  this  badge, 
Pronouncing — that  the  paleness  of  this  flower 
Bewray'd  the  faintness  of  my  master's  heart. 

York.  Will  not  this  malice,  Somerset,  be  left  ? 

SoM.  Your  private  grudge,  my  lord  of  York,  will 
out. 
Though  ne'er  so  cunningly  you  smother  it. 

K.  Hen.    Good  Lord !    what   madness  rules  in 
brainsick  men  ; 
When,  for  so  slight  and  frivolous  a  cause, 
Such  factious  emulations  shall  arise ! — 
Good  cousins  both,  of  York  and  Somerset, 
Quiet  yourselves,  I  pray,  and  be  at  peace. 

York.  Let  this  dissention  first  be  tried  by  fight. 
And  then  your  highness  shall  command  a  peace. 

SoM.  The  quarrel  toucheth  none  but  us  alone ; 
Betwixt  ourselves  let  us  decide  it  then. 

York.  There  is  my  pledge;  accept  it,  Somerset. 

Ver.  Nay,  let  it  rest  where  it  began  at  first, 

Bas.  Confirm  it  so,  mine  honourable  lord. 

Glo.  Confirm  it  so  ?  Confounded  be  your  strife  ! 
And  perish  ye,  with  your  audacious  prate  ! 
Presumptuous  vassals  !  are  you  not  asham'd. 
With  this  immodest  clamorous  outrage 
To  trouble  and  disturb  the  king  and  us  ? 
And  you,  my  lords, — methinks,  you  do  not  well, 
To  bear  with  their  perverse  objections ; 
Much  less,  to  take  occasion  from  their  mouths 
To  raise  a  mutiny  betwixt  yourselves ; 
Let  me  persuade  you  take  a  better  course. 

ExE.  It  grieves  his  highness; — Good  my  lords; 
be  friends. 

K.  Hen.  Come  hither,  you  that  would  be  com- 
batants : 
Henceforth,  I  charge  you,  as  you  love  our  favour. 


110  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ir. 

Quite  to  forget  this  quarrel,  and  the  cause. — 

And  you.  my  lords, — remember  where  we  are  ; 

In  France,  amongst  a  fickle  wavering  nation : 

If  they  perceive  dissention  in  our  looks, 

And  that  within  ourselves  we  disagree, 

How  will  their  grudging  stomachs  be  provok'd 

To  wilful  disobedience,  and  rebel  ? 

Beside,  What  infamy  will  there  arise, 

When  foreign  princes  shall  be  certified. 

That,  for  a  toy,  a  thing  of  no  regard. 

King  Henry's  peers,  and  chief  nobility, 

Destroy'd  themselves,  and  lost  the  realm  of  France  ? 

O,  think  upon  the  conquest  of  my  father; 

My  tender  years  ;  and  let  us  not  forego 

That  for  a  trifle,  that  was  bought  with  blood! 

Let  me  be  umpire  in  this  doubtful  strife. 

I  see  no  reason,  if  I  wear  this  rose, 

{Putting  on  a  red  Rose. 
That  any  one  should  therefore  be  suspicious 
I  more  incline  to  Somerset,  than  York  : 
Both  are  my  kinsmen,  and  I  love  them  both  : 
As  well  they  may  upbraid  me  with  my  crown, 
Because,  forsooth,  the  king  of  Scots  is  crowned. 
But  your  discretions  better  can  persuade. 
Than  I  am  able  to  instruct  or  teach  : 
And  therefore,  as  we  hither  came  in  peace. 
So  let  us  still  continue  peace  and  love. — 
Cousin  of  York,  we  institute  your  grace 
To  be  our  regent  in  these  parts  of  France  : — 
And  good  my  lord  of  Somerset,  unite 
Your  troops  of  horsemen  with  his  bands  of  foot ; — 
And,  like  true  subjects,  sons  of  your  progenitors, 
Go  cheerfully  together,  and  digest 
Your  angry  choler  on  your  enemies. 
Ourself,  my  lord  protector,  and  the  rest. 
After  some  respite,  will  return  to  Calais  ; 
From  thence  to  England ;  where  I  hope  ere  long 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  Ill 

To  be  presented,  by  your  victories, 

With  Charles,  Alengon,  and  that  traitorous  rout. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt  King  Henry,  Glo.  Som. 
Win.  Suf.  and  Basset. 
IVar.  My  lord  of  York,  I   promise  you,  the  king 
Prettily,  methought,  did  play  the  orator. 

York.  And  so  he  did ;  but  yet  I  like  it  not, 
In  that  he  wears  the  badge  of  Somerset. 

War.  Tush !  that  was  but  his  fancy,  blame  him 
not ; 
I  dare  presume,  sweet  prince,  he  thought  no  harm. 
York.  And,  if  I  wist,  he  did  '', — But  let  it  rest ; 

7  And,  if  I  WIST,  he  did, — ]     In  former  editions: 

"  And,  if  I  rush,  he  did ." 

By  the  pointing  reformed,  and  a  single  letter  expunged,  I  have 
restored  the  text  to  its  purity  : 

"  And,  if  I  xms,  he  did ." 

Warwick  had  said,  the  King-  meant  no  harm  in  wearing 
Somerset's  rose:  York  testily  replies,  "Nay,  if  I  know  any  thing, 
he  did  think  harm."     Theobald. 

This  is  followed  by  the  succeeding  editors,  and  is  indeed  plau- 
sible enough  ;  but  perhaps  this  speech  may  become  sufficiently 
intelligible  without  any  change,  only  supposing  it  broken  : 

"  And  if 1  vVish he  did ." 

or,  perhaps  : 

"  And  if  he  did 1  wish ."     Johnson. 

I  read — I  tvist,  the  pret.  of  the  old  obsolete  verb  I  vols,  which  is 
used  by  Shakspeare  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 
"  There  be  fools  alive,  I  wis, 
"  Silver'd  o'er,  and  so  was  this."     Steevens. 
York  says,  he  is  not  pleased  that  the  King  should  prefer  the  red 
rose,  the  badge  of  Somerset,  his  enemy ;  Warwick  desires  him 
not  to  be  offended  at  it,  as  he  dares  say  the  King  meant  no  harm. 
To  which  York,  yet  unsatisfied,  hastily  adds,  in  a  menacing  tone, 
—If  I  thought  he  did  ; — but  he  instantly  checks  his  threat  with, 
let  it  rest.     It  is  an  example  of  a  rhetorical  figure,  which  our  au- 
thor has  elsewhere  used.     Thus,  in  Coriolanus  : 

"  An  'twere  to  give  again — But  'tis  no  matter." 
Mr.  Steevens  is  too  familiar  with  Virgil,  not  to  recollect  his — 

Quos  ego — sed  motos  preestat  componere  fluctus. 
The  author  of  the  Revisal  understood  this  passage  in  the  same 
manner.     Ritson. 


112  FIRST  PART  OF  act  if. 

Other  affairs  must  now  be  managed. 

[^E.veunt  York,  JVartfick,  and  Vernon. 
ExE.  Well  didst  thou,  Richard,  to  suppress  thy 
voice : 
For,  had  the  passions  of  thy  heart  burst  out, 
I  fear,  we  should  have  seen  decipher'd  there 
More  rancorous  spite,  more  furious  raging  broils. 
Than  yet  can  be  imagin'd  or  suppos'd. 
But  howsoe'er,  no  simple  man  that  sees 
This  jarring  discord  of  nobility. 
This  should'ring  of  each  other  in  the  court. 
This  factious  bandying  of  their  favourites, 
But  that  it  doth  presage  some  ill  event  ^. 
'Tis  much  ^,  when  scepters  are  in  children's  hands ; 
But  more,  when  envy  breeds  unkind  division  ^ ; 
There  comes  the  ruin,  there  begin's  confusion. 

[^Ejcit. 

^  —  it  doth  presage  some  ill  event,]  That  is,  it  doth  presage 
to  him  that  sees  this  discord,  &c.  that  some  ill  event  will  happen. 

Malone. 

9  'Tis  MUCH,]  In  our  author's  time  this  phrase  meant — 'Tis 
strange,  or  wonderful.  This  meaning  being  included  in  the  word 
viuch,  the  word  strange  is  perhaps  understood  in  the  next  line  : 
*'  But  more  strange,"  &c.  The  construction,  however,  may  be, 
'  But  'tis  much  more,  when,'  &c.     Malone. 

'Tis  much,  is  a  colloquial  phrase;  and  the  meaning  of  it,  in 
many  instances,  can  be  gathered  only  from  the  tenor  of  the  speech 
in  which  it  occurs.  On  the  present  occasion,  I  believe,  it  signi- 
fies— 'Tis  an  alarming  circumstance,  a  thing  of  great  consequence, 
or  of  much  weight.     Steevens. 

I  learn  from  Mr.  Wilbraham's  Glossary,  that  much  still  bears,  in 
Cheshire,  the  meaning  ascribed  to  it  by  Mr.  Malone  :  "  Much,  s.  a 
wonder,  an  extraordinary  thing."  Yet,  I  think,  in  the  present  in- 
stance, Mr.  Steevens  is  right.     Boswell. 

•  —  when  ENVY  breeds  unkind  division  ;]  Envy  in  old  Eng- 
lish writers  frequently  means  enmity.  Unkind  is  unnaticral.  See 
vol.  vi.  p.  411,  n.  8.     Malone. 


sen.  KING  HENRY  VT.  113 

SCENE  II. 
France.     Before  Bourdeaux. 

Enter  Talbot,  with  his  Forces. 

Tal.  Go  to  the  gates  of  Bourdeaux,  trumpeter, 
Summon  their  general  unto  the  wall. 

Trumpet  sounds  a  Parley.     Enter,   on   the  JValls, 
the  General  of  the  French  Forces,  and  Others. 

English  John  Talbot,  captains,  calls  you  forth. 
Servant  in  arms  to  Harry  king  of  England  ; 
And  thus  he  would, — Open  your  city  gates. 
Be  humble  to  us  ;  call  my  sovereign  yours. 
And  do  him  homage  as  obedient  subjects. 
And  I'll  withdraw  me  and  my  bloody  power  : 
But,  if  you  frown  upon  this  proffer'd  peace. 
You  tempt  the  fury  of  my  three  attendants. 
Lean  famine,  quartering  steel,  and  climbing  fire  ^ ; 
Who,  in  a  moment,  even  with  the  earth 
Shall  lay  your  stately  and  air-braving  towers, 
If  you  forsake  the  offer  of  their  love  ^. 

^  Lean  famine,  quartering  steel,  and  climbing  fire;]  The 
author  of  this  play  followed  Hall's  Chronicle  :  "  The  Goddesse  of 
warre,  called  Bellona — hath  these  three  hand  mnides  ever  of  ne- 
cessitie  attendyng  on  her ;  Bloud,  Fire,  and  Fanmie ;  whiche 
thre  damosels  be  of  that  force  and  strength  that  every  one  of  them 
alone  is  able  and  sufficient  to  torment  and  afflict  a  proud  prince  ; 
and  they  all  joyned  together  are  of  puissance  to  destroy  the  most 
populous  countrey  and  most  richest  region  of  the  world." 

Malone. 

It  may  as  probably  be  asserted  that  our  author  followed  Holin- 
shed,  from  whom  I  have  already  quoted  a  part  of  this  passage  in 
a  note  on  the  first  Chorus  to  King  Henry  V.  See  Holinshed, 
p.  567.     Steevens. 

If  the  author  of  this  play  in  general  followed  Hall,  it  is  most 
probable  that  he  followed  him  here  also.     Malone. 

3  —  the  offer  of  their  love.]  Thus  the  old  editions.  Sir  T. 
Hanmer  altered  it  to  our.     .Johnson. 

VOL.  XVIII.  I 


114  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ir. 

Gen.  Thou  ominous  and  fearful  owl  of  death. 
Our  nation's  terror,  and  their  bloody  scourge  ! 
The  period  of  thy  tyranny  approacheth. 
On  us  thou  canst  not  enter,  but  by  death  : 
For,  I  protest,  we  are  well  fortified. 
And  strong  enough  to  issue  out  and  fight : 
If  thou  retire,  the  Dauphin,  well  appointed, 
Stands  with  the  snares  of  war  to  tangle  thee  : 
On  either  hand  thee  there  are  squadrons  pitch'd,    • 
To  wall  thee  from  the  liberty  of  flight ; 
And  no  way  canst  thou  turn  thee  for  redress. 
But  death  doth  front  thee  with  apparent  spoil. 
And  pale  destruction  meets  thee  in  the  face. 
Ten  thousand  French  have  ta'en  the  sacrament. 
To  rive  their  dangerous  artillery  ^ 
Upon  no  Christian  soul  but  English  Talbot. 
Lo !  there  thou  stand'st,  a  breathing  valiant  man, 

''  Their  love  "  may  mean,  the  peaceable  demeanour  of  my 
three  attendants;  their  forbearing  to  injure  you.  But  the  ex- 
pression is  harsh.     Malone. 

There  is  much  such  another  line  in  King  Henry  VIII, : 

"  If  you  omit  the  offer  of  the  time." 
I  believe  the  reading  of  Sir  T.  Hanmer  should  be  adopted. 

Steevens. 
4  To  RIVE  their  dangerous  artillery — ]     I  do   not  understand 
the  phrase — to  rive  artillery;  perhaps  it  might  be  to  drive ;  we 
say  to  drive  a  blow,  and  to  drive  at  a  man,   when  we  mean  to  ex- 
press furious  assault.     Johnson. 

To  rive  seems  to  be  used,  with  some  deviation  from  its  common 
meaning,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV.  Sc.  II. : 

"  The  soul  and  body  rive  not  more  at  parting/' 

Steevens. 
Rive  their  artillery  seems  to  mean,   charge  their  artillery  so 
much  as  to  endanger'their  bursting.     So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida, 
Ajax  bids  the  trumpeter  blow  so  loud,  as  to  crack  his  lungs  and 
split  his  brazen  pipe.     Tollet. 

To  rive  their  artillery  means  only  to  Jire  their  artillery.  To 
rive  is  to  burst ;  and  a  cannon,  when  fired,  has  so  much  the  ap- 
pearance of  bursting,  that,  in  the  language  of  poetry,  it  may  be 
well  said  to  burst.     We  say,  a  cloud  bursts,  when  it  thunders, 

M.  Mason. 


.9C.  IT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  1 15 

Of  an  invincible  unconquer'd  spirit : 

This  is  the  latest  glory  of  thy  praise, 

That  I,  thy  enemy,  due  thee  withal  ^ ; 

For  ere  the  glass,  that  now  begins  to  run, 

Finish  the  process  of  his  sandy  hour, 

These  eyes,  that  see  thee  now  well  coloured, 

Shall  see  thee  wither'd,  bloody,  pale,  and  dead. 

\Drum  afar  off. 
Hark  !  hark  !  the  Dauphin's  drum,  a  warning  bell. 
Sings  heavy  musick  to  thy  timorous  soul ; 
And  mine  shall  ring  thy  dire  departure  out. 

\_Exeunt  General,  S^c.jrom  the  Walls. 
T^L.  He  fables  not^,  I  hear  the  enemy; — 
Out,    some    light    horsemen,    and    peruse    their 

wings. — 
O,  negligent  and  heedless  discipline  ! 
How  are  we  park'd,  and  bounded  in  a  pale  ; 
A  little  herd  of  England's  timorous  deer, 
Maz'd  with  a  yelping  kennel  of  French  curs  ! 

5  —  DUE  thee  withal ;]     To  due  is  to  endue,  to  deck,  to  grace. 

Johnson. 
Johnson  says  in  his  Dictionaiy,  that  to  due  is  to  pay  as  due ; 
and  quotes  this  passage  as  an  example.    Possibly  that  may  be  the 
true  meaning  of  it.     M.  Mason. 

It  means,  I  think,  to  honour  by  giving  thee  thy  due,  thy  merited 
elogium.  Due  was  substituted  for  deiv,  the  reading  of  the  old 
copy,  by  Mr,  Theobald.  Deiv  was  sometimes  the  old  spelling  of 
due,  as  Hetv  was  of  Hugh.     Malone. 

The  old  copy  reads — "  deiv  thee  withal ;  "  and  perhaps  rightly. 
The  dew  of  praise  is  an  expression  I  have  met  with  in  other  poetS; 
Shakspeare  uses  the  same  verb  in  Macbeth  : 

"  To  dew  the  sovereign  flow'r,  and  drown  the  weeds." 
Again,  in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. : 

"  ■ give  me  thy  hand, 

"  That  I  may  deiv  it  with  my  mournful  tears."    Steevens. 
^  He  FABLES  not,]    This  expression  Milton  has  borrowed  in  his 
Masque  at  Ludlow  Castle  : 

"  She  fables  not,  I  feel  that  I  do  fear ." 

It  occurs  again  in  The  Pinner  of  Wakefield,  1.599  : 

" good  father, Jable  not  with  him."     Steevens. 

I  2 


116  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  if. 

If  we  be  English  deer,  be  then  in  blood  " : 
Not  rascal -like  ^,  to  fall  down  with  a  pinch  ; 
But  rather  moody-mad,  and  desperate  stags. 
Turn  on  the  bloody  hounds  with  heads  of  steel  ^, 
And  make  the  cowards  stand  aloof  at  bay : 
Sell  every  man  his  hfe  as  dear  as  mine, 
And  they  shall  find  dear  deer  of  us  ',  my  friends. — 
God,  and  Saint  George!    Talbot,    and    England's 

right ! 
Prosper  our  colours  in  this  dangerous  fight ! 

SCENE  III. 

Plains  in  Gascony. 

Enter  York,  xvith  Forces  ;  to  him,  a  Messe?iger. 

York.  Are  not  the  speedy  scouts  return'd  again, 
That  dogg'd  the  mighty  army  of  the  Dauphin  ? 
Mess.  They  are  return'd,  my  lord ;  and  give  it 
out. 


7  —  be  then  in  blood  :]    Be  in  high  spirits,  be  of  true  mettle. 

Johnson. 
This  was  a  phrase  of  the  forest.     See  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
vol.  iv.  p.  352,  n.  3  : 

"  The  deer  was,  as  you  know,  in  sanguis,  blood." 
Again,  in  BuUokar's  English  Expositor,  1616:   "Tenderlings. 
The  soft  tops  of  a  deere's  horns,  when  they  are  in  blood." 

Malone. 
*  Not  RASCAL-Iike,]     A  rfl^caZ  deer  is  the  term  of  chase  for  leati 
j)oor  deer.     Johnson. 

See  vol.  xvii.  p.  73,  n.  4.     Steevens. 

9  — with  heads  of  steel,]     Continuing  the  image  of  the  deer, 
he  supposes  the  lances  to  be  their  horns.     Johnson. 

I  —  DEAR  DEER  of  US,]     Thc   samc  quibble  occurs   in   King 
Henry  IV.  Part  L  : 

"  Death  hath  not  struck  so  fat  a  deer  to-dav, 

* 

•'  Though  many  dearer,"  &c.     Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  VI.  117 

That  he  is  march'd  to  Bourdeaux  with  his  power, 
To  fight  with  Talbot :  As  he  march'd  along, 
By  your  espials  were  discovered 
Two  mightier  troops  than  that  the  Dauphin  led  ; 
Which  join'd  with  him,  and  made  their  march  for 
Bourdeaux. 
York.  A  plague  upon  that  villain  Somerset ; 
That  thus  delays  my  promised  supply 
Of  horsemen,  that  were  levied  for  this  siege  ! 
Renowned  Talbot  doth  expect  my  aid  ; 
And  I  am  lowted  '^  by  a  traitor  villain. 
And  cannot  help  the  noble  chevalier  : 
God  comfort  him  in  this  necessity ! 

^  And  I  am  lowted — ]  To  loixit  may  signify  to  depress,  to 
loiver,  to  dishonour  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  it  so  used.  We  may 
read — And  I  a.mJloided;  1  am  mocked,  and  treated  with  contempt. 

Johnson. 
To  lout,  in  Chaucer,  signifies  to  submit.     To  submit  is  to  let 
down.     So,  Dryden  : 

"  Sometime  the  hill  submits  itself  a  while 
"  In  small  descents,"  &c. 
To  lotit  and  underlout,  in  Gawin  Douglas's  version  of  the  iEneid, 
signifies  to  be  subdued,  vanquished.     Steevens. 

I  believe  the  meaning  is  :  I  am  treated  with  contempt  like  a 
lowt,  or  low  country  fellow.     Malone. 

Mr.  Malone's  explanation  of  the  word — loxvted,  is  strongly  coun- 
tenanced by  the  following  passage  in  an  ancient  libel  upon  priests, 
in  titled,  I  playne  Piers  which  cannot  flatter,  a  Ploweman  Men  me 
call,  &c. : 

"  No  christen  booke 
"  Maye  thou  on  looke, 

"  Yf  thou  be  an  Englishe  strunt ; 
"  Thus  dothe  alyens  us  lowtte 
"  By  that  ye  spreade  aboute, 

"  After  that  old  sorte  and  wonte." 
Again,  in  the  last  poem  in  a  collection  called  The  Phoenix  Nest, 
4°.  1593  : 

"  So  love  was  louted." 
i.  e.  baffled.     Again,  in  Arthur  Hall's  translation  of  the  first  book 
of  Homer,  4°.  1581  : 

"  You  wel  shal  know  of  al  these  folke  I  wil  not  be  the  lout." 
Agamemnon  is  the  speaker.     Steevens. 


1.18  FIRST  PART  OF  act  if. 

If  he  miscarry,  farewell  wars  in  France. 

Enter  Sir  William  Lucy^. 

Lucy.    Thou   princely   leader    of    our    English 

strength. 
Never  so  needful  on  the  earth  of  France, 
Spur  to  the  rescue  of  the  noble  Talbot ; 
Who  now  is  girdled  with  a  waist  of  iron  "*, 
And  hemm'd  about  with  grim  destruction : 
To  Bourdeaux,  warlike  duke!  to  Bourdeaux,  York! 
Else,  farewell  Talbot,  France,  and  England's  ho- 
nour. 
York.  O   God  !    that  Somerset — who  in  proud 

heart 
Doth  stop  my  cornets — were  in  Talbot's  place  ! 
So  should  we  save  a  valiant  gentleman. 
By  forfeiting  a  traitor  and  a  coward. 
Mad  ire,  and  wrathful  fury,  makes  me  weep, 
That  thus  we  die,  while  remiss  traitors  sleep. 

Lucy.  O,  send  some  succour  to  the   distress'd 

lord! 
York.  He  dies,  we  lose ;    I    break   my  warlike 

word : 
We  mourn,  France  smiles;  we  lose,  they  daily  get; 
All  'long  of  this  vile  traitor  Somerset. 

Lucy.  Then,  God  take  mercy  on  brave  Talbot's 

soul! 
And  on  his  son,  young  John  ;  whom,  two  hours 

since. 
I  met  in  travel  toward  his  warlike  father  ! 
This  seven  years  did  not  Talbot  see  his  son ; 

3  Enter  Sir  William  Lucj/.']  In  the  old  copy  we  have  only— 
Enter  a  Messenger.  But  it  appears  from  the  subsequent  scene 
that  the  messenger  was  Sir  William  Lucy.     Mai.one. 

4  —  GIRDLED  with  a  WAIST  of  iron,]     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  — —  those  sleeping  stones, 

"  That  as  a  ivaist  do  girdle  you  about ."     Steevens. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  119 

And  now  they  meet  where  both  their  lives    are 
done  ^. 

York,  Alas  !  what  joy  shall  noble  Talbot  have. 
To  bid  his  young  son  welcome  to  his  grave  ? 
Away  !  vexation  almost  stops  my  breath, 
That  sunder'd  friends  greet  in  the  hour  of  death. — 
Lucy,  farewell :  no  more  my  fortune  can. 
But  curse  the  cause  I  cannot  aid  the  man. — 
Maine,  Blois,  Poictiers,  and  Tours,  are  won  away, 
'Long  all  of  Somerset,  and  his  delay.  \_Ed'it. 

Lucy.  Thus,  while  the  vulture  ^  of  sedition 
Feeds  in  the  bosom  of  such  great  commanders. 
Sleeping  neglection  doth  betray  to  loss 
The  conquest  of  our  scarce-cold  conqueror. 
That  ever-living  man  of  memory, 
Henry  the  fifth  : — Whiles  they  each  other  cross. 
Lives,  honours,  lands,  and  all,  hurry  to  loss.  [E:vit, 


SCENE  IV. 

Other  Plains  of  Gascony. 

Enter  Somerset^  with  his  Forces;  an  Officer  of 
Talbot  s  with  him. 

SoM.  It  is  too  late  ;  I  cannot  send  them  now : 
This  expedition  was  by  York,  and  Talbot, 
Too  rashly  plotted  ;  all  our  general  force 
Might  with  a  sally  of  the  very  town 
Be  buckled  with  :  the  over-daring  Talbot 
Hath  sullied  all  his  gloss  of  former  honour  ^, 

5  —  are  done.]     i.  e.  expended,  consumed.     The  word  is  yet 
used  in  this  sense  in  the  Western  counties,     Malone. 

<5  —  the  VULTURE  — ]     Alluding  to  the  tale  of  Prometheus. 

Johnson. 

7  — all  his  GLOSS  of  former  honour,]     Our  author  very  fre- 
quently employs  this  phrase.     So,  in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing : 


120  FIRST  PART  OF  act  jr. 

By  this  unheedful,  desperate,  wild  adventure  : 
York  set  him  on  to  fight,  and  die  in  shame, 
That,    Talbot   dead,   great   York  might  bear  the 
name. 
Off.  Here  is  sir  WilHam  Lucy,  who  with  me 
Set  from  our  o'er-match'd  forces  forth  for  aid. 

Enter  Sir  William  Lucy. 

SoM.  How  now,  sir  WilHam  ?  whither  were  you 
sent  ? 

Lucy,  Whither,  my  lord  ?  from  bought  and  sold 
lord  Talbot '  ; 
Who,  ring'd  about  ^  with  bold  adversity. 
Cries  out  for  noble  York  and  Somerset, 
To  beat  assailing  death  from  his  weak  legions  ^ 
And  whiles  the  honourable  captain  there 
Drops  bloody  sweat  from  his  war-wearied  limbs. 
And,  in  advantage  ling'ring ',  looks  for  rescue, 
You,  his  false  hopes,  the  trust  of  England's  honour, 
Keep  off  aloof  with  worthless  emulation  ^. 

"  —  the  new  glnss  of  your  marriage."     It  occurs  also  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  and  in  Macbeth,  &c.     Steevens. 

^  —  from  bought  and  sold  Lord  Talbot  ;]  i.  e.  from  one  ut- 
terly ruined  by  the  treacherous  practices  of  others.  So,  in  King 
Richard  III. : 

"  Jocky  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold, 

"  For  Dickon  thy  master  is  bought  and  sold.'' 

The  expression  appears  to  have  been  proverbial.  See  vol.  xv. 
p.  356,  n.  4.     Malone. 

9  —  ring'd  about — ]     P^nvironed,  encircled.     Johnson. 

So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  : 

"  Eiuings  the  barky  fingers  of  the  elm."     Steevens. 

'  — his  weak  legions.]  Old  copy — regions.  Corrected  by 
Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

*  —  in  ADVANTAGE  ling'ring,]  Protracting  his  resistance  by 
the  advantage  of  a  strong  post.     Johnson. 

Or,  perhaps,  endeavouring  by  every  means  that  he  can,  with 
advantage  to  himself,  to  linger  out  the  action,  &c.     Malone. 

3  —  worthless  emulation.]  In  this  line,  emulation  signifies 
merely  rivalry,  not  struggle  for  superior  excellence.     Johnson. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  121 

Let  not  your  private  discord  keep  away 
The  levied  succours  that  should  lend  him  aid, 
While  he,  renowned  noble  gentleman, 
Yields  ^  up  his  life  unto  a  world  of  odds : 
Orleans  the  Bastard,  Charles,  Burgundy  ^ 
Alen9on,  Reignier,  compass  him  about. 
And  Talbot  perisheth  by  your  default. 

SoM.  York  set  him  on,  York  should  have   sent 

him  aid. 
Lucy.  And  York  as  fast  upon  your  grace   ex- 
claims ; 
Swearing  that  you  withhold  his  levied  host, 
Collected  for  this  expedition. 

SoM.  York  Hes  ;  he  might  have  sent  and  had  the 
horse  : 
I  owe  him  little  duty,  and  less  love  ; 
And  take  foul  scorn,  to  fawn  on  him  by  sending. 
Lucy.  The   fraud   of  England,  not  the  force  of 
France, 
Hath  now  entrapp'd  the  noble-minded  Talbot ! 
Never  to  England  shall  he  bear  his  life  : 
But  dies,  betray'd  to  fortune  by  your  strife. 

SoM.  Come,  go  ;  I  will  despatch  the  horsemen 
straight : 
Within  six  hours  they  will  be  at  his  aid. 

Lucy.  Too  late   comes   rescue ;  he  is  ta'en,  or 
slain  : 
For  fly  he  could  not,  if  he  would  have  fled  ; 
And  fly  would  Talbot  never,  though  he  might. 

So  Ulysses,    in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  says  that  the  Grecian 

chiefs  were — 

" grown  to  an  envious  fever 

"  Of  pale  and  bloodless  emulation:'     M.  Mason. 
4  Yields  — ]     Thus  the  second  folio  :  the  first— i/ield. 

Steevens. 

5 AND  Burgundy,]     And,  which  is  necessary  to  the  metre, 

is  wanting  in  tlie  first  folio,  but  is  supplied  by  the  second. 

Steevens. 


122  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  ir. 

SoM.  If  he  be  dead,  brave  Talbot  then  adieu  ! 
Lucy.  His  fame  lives  in  the  world,  his  shame  in 
you.  \_E.veunt. 

SCENE  V. 

The  English  Camp  near  Bourdeaux. 

Enter  Talbot  and  John  his  Son. 

Tal.  O  young  John  Talbot !  I  did  send  for  thee. 
To  tutor  thee  in  stratagems  of  war ; 
That  Talbot's  name  might  be  in  thee  reviv'd. 
When  sapless  age,  and  weak  unable  limbs, 
Should  bring  thy  father  to  his  drooping  chair. 
But, — O  malignant  and  ill-boding  stars ! — 
Now  thou  art  come  unto  a  feast  of  death  ®, 
A  terrible  and  unavoided  ''  danger  : 
Therefore,  dear  boy,  mount  on  my  swiftest  horse ; 
And  ril  direct  thee  how  thoushalt  escape 
By  sudden  flight :  come,  dally  not,  begone. 

John.  Is  my  name  Talbot  ^  and  am  I  your  son  ? 
And  shall  I  fly  ?  O,  if  you  love  my  mother. 
Dishonour  not  her  honourable  name. 
To  make  a  bastard,  and  a  slave  of  me  : 
The  world  will  say — He  is  not  Talbot's  blood. 
That  basely  fled,  when  noble  Talbot  stood  ^. 

^  — a  FEAST  of  DEATH,]  To  a  field  where  death  will  hQ  feasted 
with  shiughter.     Johnson. 

So,  in  King  Richard  II : 

"  '\\{\%  feast  of  battle,  with  mine  adversary."     Steevens. 

7  —  unavoided  — ]     for  unavoidable.     Malone. 

So,  in  King  Richard  II.  : . 

"  And  unavoided  is  the  danger  now."     Steevens. 

^  —  noble  Talbot  stood.]  For  what  reason  this  scene  is  written 
in  rhyme,  I  cannot  guess.  If  Shakspeare  had  not  in  other  plays 
mingled  his  rhymes  and  blank  verses  in  the  same  manner,  I  should 
have  suspected  that  this  dialogue  had  been  a  part  of  some  other 
poem  which  was  never  finished,  and  that  being  loath  to  throw  his 
labour  away,  he  inserted  it  here.     Johnson. 


sc.  F.  KING  HENRY  VI.  123 

T^L.  Fly,  to  revenge  my  death,  if  I  be  slain. 

John.  He,  that  flies  so,  will  ne'er  return  again. 

TyiL.  If  we  both  stay,  we  both  are  sure  to  die. 

John.  Then  let  me  stay;  and  father,    do  you 
fly: 
Your  loss  is  great,  so  your  regard  ^  should  be  ; 
My  worth  unknown,  no  loss  is  known  in  me. 
Upon  my  death  the  French  can  little  boast ; 
In  yours  they  will,  in  you  all  hopes  are  lost. 
Flight  cannot  stain  the  honour  you  have  won  ; 
But  mine  it  will,  that  no  exploit  have  done  : 
You  fled  for  vantage  every  one  will  swear ; 
But,  if  I  bow,  they'll  say — it  was  for  fear. 
There  is  no  hope  that  ever  I  will  stay, 
If,  the  first  hour,  I  shrink,  and  run  away. 
Here,  on  my  knee,  I  beg  mortality. 
Rather  than  life  preserv'd  with  infamy. 

Tal.    Shall  all    thy  mother's   hopes  lie  in  one 
tomb  ? 

John.  Ay,  rather  than  I'll  shame  my  mother's 
womb. 

Tal.  Upon  my  blessing  I  command  thee  go. 

John.  To  fight  I  will,  but  not  to  fly  the  foe. 

Tal.  Part  of  thy  father  may  be  sav'd  in  thee. 

John.  No  part  of  him,  but  will  be  shame  in  me. 

Tal.  Thou  never  had'st  renown,  nor  canst  not 
lose  it. 

John.  Yes,  your  renowned  name ;    Shall  flight 
abuse  it  ? 

Tal.  Thy  father's  charge  shall  clear  thee  from 
that  stain. 

John.  You  cannot  witness  for  me,  being  slain. 

This  practice  was  cornmon  to  all  his  contemporaries.     See  the 
Essay  on  Shakspeare's  Versification.     Boswell. 
9  —  your  regard  — ]     Your  care  of  your  own  safety. 

Johnson. 


124  FIRST  PART  OF  act  iv. 

If  death  be  so  apparent,  then  both  fly. 

Tal.  And  leave  my  followers  here,  to  fight,  and 
die? 
My  age  was  never  tainted  with  such  shame. 

John.  And  shall   my  youth  be    guilty  of   such 
blame  ? 
No  more  can  I  be  sever'd  from  your  side. 
Than  can  yourself  yourself  in  twain  divide  : 
Stay,  go,  do  what  you  will,  the  like  do  I ; 
For  live  1  will  not,  if  my  father  die. 

Tal.  Then  here  I  take  my  leave  of  thee,  fair  son. 
Born  to  eclipse  ^  thy  life  this  afternoon. 
Come,  side  by  side  together  live  and  die ; 
And  soul  with  soul  from  France  to  heaven  fly. 

[Exeunt, 

SCENE  VI. 

A  Field  of  Battle. 

Alarum :    Ei'cursions,    wherein    Talbot s    Son    is 
hemmed  about,  and  Talbot  rescues  him. 

Tal,  Saint  George  and  victory  !  fight,  soldiers, 
fight: 
The  regent  hath  with  Talbot  broke  his  word. 
And  left  us  to  the  rage  of  France  his  sword. 
Where    is   John   Talbot  .^ — pause,    and    take  thy 

breath ; 
I  gave  thee  life,  and  rescu'd  thee  from  death. 
John.  O  twice  my  father !  twice  am  I  thy  son  ' : 

^  fair  SON, 

Born  to  ECLIPSE,  &c.]    An  apparent  quibble  between  son  and 
sun.     So,  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  And  turns  the  sun  to  shade  ; — alas,  alas  ! — 
"  Witness  my  sow,  novo  in  the  shade  o/  death."     Steevens. 
^  O  twice  my  father  !  twice  am  I  thy  son  :]     A  French  epigram, 
on  a  child,  who  being  shipwrecked  with  his  father  saved  his  life  by 


sc.  VI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  12 


o 


The  life,  thou  gav'st  me  first,  was  lost  and  done  ^ ; 
Till  with  thy  warlike  sword,  despite  of  fate, 
To  my  determin'd  time^  thou  gav'st  new  date. 
Tal.  When  from  the  Dauphin's  crest  thy  sword 
struck  fire^. 
It  warm'd  thy  father's  heart  with  proud  desire 
Of  bold-fac'd  victory.     Then  leaden  age, 
Quicken'd  with  youthful  spleen,  and  warlike  rage. 
Beat  down  Alen9on,  Orleans,  Burgundy, 
Aud  from  the  pride  of  GaUia  rescu'd  thee. 
The  ireful  bastard  Orleans — that  drew  blood 
From  thee,  my  boy ;  and  had  the  maidenhood 
Of  thy  first  fight — I  soon  encountered  ; 
And,  interchanging  blows,  I  quickly  shed 
Some  of  his  bastard  blood  ;  and,  in  disgrace. 
Bespoke  him  thus  :  Contaminated,  base, 
And  misbegotten  blood  I  spill  of  thine. 
Mean  and  right  poor  ;  for  that  pure  blood  of  mine. 
Which  thou  did'stforcejrom  Talbot,  my  brave  boy : — 
Here,  purposing  the  Bastard  to  destroy, 

getting  on  his  parent's  dead  body,  turns  on  the  same  thought. 
After  describing  the  wreck,  it  concludes  thus  : 

aprez  mi  lie  efforts, 

J'apper^us  prez  de  moi  flotter  des  membres  morts  ; 

Helas  !  c'etoit  mon  pere. 

Je  le  connus,  je  I'embrassai, 
Et  sur  lui  jusq'  au  port  heureusement  pousse, 

Des  ondes  et  vents  j'evitai  la  furie. 

Que  ce  pere  doit  nVetre  cher. 

Qui  m'a  deuxjbis  donne  la  vie, 

line  fois  sur  la  terre,  et  I'autre  sur  la  mer  !     Malone. 

3  — and  DONB  ;]     See  p.  119,  n.  5.     Malone. 

4  To    my   determin'd  time — ]     i.e.    ended.     So,   in   King 
Henry  IV.  Part  II. : 

"  Till  his  friend  sickness  hath  determind  me." 

Steevens. 
The  word  is  still  used  in  that  sense  by  legal  conveyancers. 

Malone. 
i  When  from  the  Dauphin's  crest  thy  sword  struck  fire,]  So, 
in  Drayton's  Mortimeriados,  1596  : 

"  Made_^/Y'  to  fly  from  Hertford's  burgonet."    Steevens. 


126  FIRST  PART  OF  act  ir. 

Came  in  strong  rescue.     Speak,  thy  father's  care; 

Art  not  thou  weary,  John  ?  How  dost  thou  fare  ? 

Wilt  thou  yet  leave  the  battle,  boy,  and  fly, 

Now  thou  art  seal'd  the  son  of  chivalry  ? 

Fly,  to  revenge  my  death,  when  I  am  dead ; 

The  help  of  one  stands  me  in  little  stead. 

O,  too  much  folly  is  it,  well  I  wot. 

To  hazard  all  our  lives  in  one  small  boat. 

If  1  to-day  die  not  with  Frenchmen's  rage, 

To-morrow  I  shall  die  with  mickle  age : 

By  me  they  nothing  gain,  an  if  I  stay, 

'Tis  but  the  short'ning  of  my  life  one  day  ^ : 

In  thee  thy  mother  dies,  our  household's  name, 

My  death's  revenge,  thy  youth,  and  England's  fame: 

All  these,  and  more,  we  hazard  by  thy  stay ; 

All  these  are  sav'd,  if  thou  wilt  fly  away. 

John,  The  sword  of  Orleans  hath  not  made  me 

smart, 
These  words   of  yours   draw  life-blood    from   my 

heart " : 
On  that  advantage,  bought  with  such  a  shame, 
(To  save  a  paltry  life,  and  slay  bright  fame  ^) 

^  'Tis  but  the  short'ning  of  my  life  one  day  :]  The  structure  of 
this  line  very  much  resembles  that  of  another,  in  King  Henry  IV. 
Part  II.  : 

" to  say, 

"  Heaven  shorten  Harry's  happy  life  one  day." 

Steevens. 
7  The  sword  of  Orleans  hath  not  made  me  smart, 
These  words  of  yours  draw  life-blood  from  my  heart :] 

"  Are  there  not  poisons,  racks,  and  flames,  and  sivords  ? 
"  That  Emma  thus  must  die  by  Henry  sivords?"     Prior. 

Malone. 
So,  in  this  play.  Part  III. : 

"  Ah,  kill  me  with  thy  tueapon,  not  with  twrds." 

Steevens. 
*  On  that  advantage,  bought  with  such  a  shame, 
(To  save  a  paltry  life,  and  slay  bright  fame,)]     This  passage 
seems  to  lie  obscure  and  disjointed.     Neither  the  grammar  is  to 
be  justified;  nor  is  the  sentiment  better.     I  have  ventured  at  a 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  VI.  ,127 

Before  young  Talbot  from  old  Talbot  fly, 

The  coward  horse,  that  bears  me,  fall  and  die ! 

And  like  me  to  the  peasant  boys  of  France  ^; 

To  be  shame's  scorn,  and  subject  of  mischance  ! 

Surely,  by  all  the  glory  you  have  won, 

An  if  I  fly,  I  am  not  Talbot's  son  : 

Then  talk  no  more  of  flight,  it  is  no  boot ; 

If  son  to  Talbot,  die  at  Talbots  foot. 


slight  alteration,  which  departs  so  little  from  the  reading  which 
has  obtained,  but  so  much  raises  the  sense,  as  well  as  takes  away 
the  obscurity,  that  I  am  willing  to  think  it  restores  the  author's 
meaning  : 

"  Old  on  that  vantage ."     Theobald. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  : 

"  O  tvhat  advantage ," 

which  I  have  followed,  though  Mr.  Theobald's  conjecture  may  be 
well  enough  admitted.     Johnson. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  the  old  reading  is  right,  and  the  amend- 
ment unnecessary;  the  passage  being  better  as  it  stood  originally, 
if  pointed  thus : 

"  On  that  advantage,  bought  with  such  a  shame, 
'^  (To  save  a  paltry  life,  and  slay  bright  fame,) 
"  Before  young  Talbot  from  old  Talbot  fly, 
"  The  coward  horse,  that  bears  me,   fall  and  die  !  " 
The  dividing  the  sentence  into  two  distinct  parts,  occasioned 
the  obscurity  of  it,  which  this  method  of  printing  removes. 

M.  Mason. 
The  sense  is — Before  young  Talbot  fly  from  his  father,   (in 
order  to  save  his  life  while  he  destroys  his  character,)  on,  or  for 
the  sake  of,  the  advantages  you  mention,  namely,  preserving  our 
household's  name,  &c.  may  my  coward  horse  drop  down  dead  ! 

Malone. 
9  And  LIKE  me  to  the  peasant  boys  of  France  ;]  To  li/i-e  one 
to  the  peasants,  is,  to  compare,  to  level  hi]  comparison  ;  the  line 
is  therefore  intelligible  enough  by  itself,  but  in  this  sense  it  wants 
connection.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads, — And  leave  me,  which  makes 
a  clear  sense  and  just  consequence.  But  as  change  is  not  to  be 
allowed  without  necessity,  I  have  suffered  like  to  stand,  because  I 
suppose  the  author  meant  the  same  as  make  like,  or  reduce  to  a 
level  with.     Johnson. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  :  '•'  -*-  when  the  Prince  broke 
thy  head  for  liking  his  father  to  a  singing  man,'"  &c.    Steevens. 


128  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  iv. 

Tal.    Then  follow  thou  thy    desperate   sh-e  of 
Crete, 
Thou  Icarus^ ;  thy  life  to  me  is  sweet: 
If  thou  wilt  fight,  fight  by  thy  father's  side ; 
And,  commendable  prov'd,  let's  die  in  pride. 

\_Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII. 

Another  Part  of  the  Same. 

Alarum  :   Excursions.      Enter   Talbot  tvounded, 
supported  by  a  Servant. 

Tal.    Where  is  my  other  life  ? — mine  own  is 
gone ; — 
O,  Where's  young  Talbot  .^  where  is  valiant  John.^ — 
Triumphant  death,  smear'd  with  captivity  '" ! 
Young  Talbot's  valour  makes  me  smile  at  thee  : — 
When  he  perceiv'd  me  shrink,  and  on  my  knee. 
His  bloody  sword  he  brandish'd  over  me, 
And,  hke  a  hungry  lion,  did  commence 
Rough  deeds  of  rage,  and  stern  impatience  ; 
But  when  my  angry  guardant  stood  alone, 

'  — thy  desperate  sire  of  Crete, 
Thou  Icarus  ;]     So,  in  the  Third  Part  of  this  play  : 
"  What  a  peevish  fool  was  that  of  Crete?  " 

Again : 

"  I,   Daedalus  ;  my  poor  boy,  Icarus — ."     Steevens, 

^  Triumphant  death,  smear'd  with  captivity  !]  That  is,  death 
stained  and  dishonoured  with  captivity.     Johnson. 

Death  stained  by  my  being  made  a  captive  and  dying  in  cap- 
tivity. The  author,  when  he  first  addresses  death,  and  uses  the 
epithet  Iriumfhnnt,  considers  him  as  a  person  who  had  triumphed 
over  him  by  plunging  his  dart  in  his  breast.  In  the  latter  part 
of  the  line,  if  Dr.  Johnson  has  rightly  explained  it,  death  must 
have  its  ordinary  signification.  "  I  think  light  of  my  death, 
though  rendered  disgraceful  by  captivity,"  &c.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, the  construction  intended  by  the  poet  was — Young  Talbot's 
valour  makes  mc,  smeared  with  captivity,  smile,  &c.  If  so, 
tliere  should  be  a  comma  after  captivity.     j\1alone. 


sc.  I'll.  KING  HENRY  VI.  129 

Tend'ring  my  ruin  '^,  and  assail'd  of  none, 
Dizzy-ey'd  fury,  and  great  rage  of  heart, 
Suddenly  made  him  from  my  side  to  start 
Into  the  clust'ring  battle  of  the  French  : 
And  in  that  sea  of  blood  my  boy  did  drench 
His  overmounting  spirit ;  and  there  died 
My  Icarus,  my  blossom,  in  his  pride. 

Enter  Soldiers,  bearing  the  Body  of  J  oh x  Talbot*  ^ 
Serv.  O  my  dear  lord  !  lo,  where  your  son  is 

borne ! 
Tal.  Thou  antick  death',  which  laugh'stus  here 
to  scorn. 
Anon,  from  thy  insulting  tyranny. 
Coupled  in  bonds  of  perpetuity, 

3  Tend'ring  my  ruin,]     Watching  me  with  tenderness  in  my 

fall.        JOHXSON. 

I  would  rather  read — 

"  Tending  my  ruin,"  &c.     Tyrwhitt. 
I  adhere  to  the  old  reading.     So,  in  Hamlet,  Polonius  says  to 
Ophelia : 

"  — —  Tender  yourself  more  dearly."     Steevens. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  H. : 

"  I  tender  so  the  safety  of  my  liege."     Malone. 

4  —the  Body  of  John  Talbot.']  '  This  John  Talbot  was  the 
eldest  son  of  the  first  Earl  by  his  second  wife,  and  was  Viscount 
Lisle,  when  he  was  killed  with  his  father,  in  endeavouring  to 
relieve  Chatillon,  after  the  battle  of  Bourdeaux,  in  the  year  HoS. 
He  was  created  Viscount  Lisle  in  1451.  John,  the  Earl's  eldest 
son  by  his  first  wife,  was  slain  at  the  battle  of  Northampton,  in 
1460.     Malone. 

3  Thou  antick  death,]     The /oo.',  or  antkh  of  the  play,  made 
sport  by  mocking  the  graver  personages.     Johnson. 
In  King  Richard  II.  we  have  the  same  image  : 

" within  the  hollow  crown 

"  That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king  _ 

"  Keeps  death  his  court  :  and  there  the  antick  sits 

"  Scoffing  his  state,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp." 

Steevens. 
It  is  not  improbable  that  Shakspeare  borrowed  this  idea  from 
one  of  the  cuts  to  that  most  exquisite  w^ork  called  Imagines  Mortis, 
commonly  ascribed  to  the  pencil   of  Holbein,  but  without  any 
authority.     See  the  Tth  print.     Douck. 
VOL.  XVIII.  K 


130  FIRST  PART  OF  act  if. 

Two  Talbots,  winged  through  the  lither  sky^ 

In  thy  despite,  shall  'scape  mortality. — 

O  thou  whose  wounds  become  hard-favour'd  death. 

Speak  to  thy  father,  ere  thou  yield  thy  breath : 

Brave  death  by  speaking,  whether  he  will,  or  no ; 

Imagine  him  a  Frenchman,  and  thy  foe. — 

Poor  boy!    he  smiles,  methinks:    as  who  should 

say- 
Had  death  been  French,  then  death  had  died  to- 
day. 
Come,  come,  and  lay  him  in  his  father's  arms ; 
My  spirit  can  no  longer  bear  these  harms. 
Soldiers,  adieu  !  I  have  what  I  would  have. 
Now  my  old  arms  are  young  John  Talbot's  grave. 

IDies. 

uilarums.  Exeunt  Soldiers  and  Servant,  leaning 
the  tzvo  Bodies.  Enter  Charles,  Alen^on,  Bur- 
gundy, Bastard,  La  Pucelle,  and  Forces. 

Char.  Had  York  and  Somerset  brought  rescue  in. 
We  should  have  found  a  bloody  day  of  this. 

"   —winged  through  the  lither  sky,]     Lither  is  JlexiMe  or 
yielding.     In  much  the  same  sense  Milton  says  : 

" He  with  broad  sails 

"  Winnow'd  the  buxom  air." 
That  is,  the  obsequious  air.     Johnson. 
Lither  is  the  comparative  of  the  adjective  lithe. 
So,  in  Lyly's  Endymion,  1591  : 

" to  breed  numbness  or  litherness." 

Litherness  is  limberness,  or  yielding  xveakness. 
Again,  in  Look  About  You,   1600  : 

"  I'll  bring  his  lither  legs  in  better  frame." 
Milton  might  have  borrowed  the  expression  from  Spenser  or 
Gower,  who  uses  it  in  the  Prologue  to  his  Confessio  Amantis  : 
"  That  unto  him  whiche  the  head  is, 
"  The  membres  buxom  shall  bowe." 
In  the  old  service  of  matrimony,   the  wife  was  enjoined  to  be 
buxom  both  at  bed  and  board.     Buxom,  therefore,   anciently  sig- 
nified obedient  or  yielding.     Stubbs,  in  his  Anatomie  of  Abuses, 

1595,  uses  the  word  in  the  same  sense  :   " are  so  buxome  to 

their  shameless  desires/'  &c.     Steevens. 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  13,1 

Bast.  How  the  young  whelp  of  Talbot's,  raging- 
wood  \ 
Did  flesh  his  puny  sword  in  Frenchmen's  blood  ^! 

Puc.  Once  I  encounter'd  him,  and  thus  I  said, 
Thoii  7naiden  youth  be  vancjuislid  by  a  maid: 
But — with  a  proud,  majestical  high  scorn, — 
He  answer'd  thus  ;   Young  Talbot  was  not  born 
To  be  the  pillage  of  a  giglot  xveiich  ^  ; 
So,  rushing  in  the  bowels  of  the  French  \ 
He  left  me  proudly,  as  unworthy  fight. 

Bur.  Doubtless,  he  would  have  made  a  noble 
knight : 
See,  where  he  lies  inhersed  in  the  arms 
Of  the  most  bloody  nurser  of  his  harms. 

Bast.    Hew  them   to  pieces,   hack  their  bones 
asunder ; 
Whose  life  was  England's  glory,  Gallia's  wonder. 

Char.  O,  no ;  forbear  :  for  that  which  we  have  fled 
During  the  life,  let  us  not  wrong  it  dead. 

7  — raging-wooD,]     That  is,  raging  wmt/.     So,  in  I  ley  wood's 
Dialogues,  containing  a  number  of  ett'ectual  Proverbs,  1562 : 
"  She  was,  as  they  say,   horn-iuoof/." 
Again,  in  The  Longer  thou  livestthe  more  Fool  thou  art,  1570  : 

•'  He  will  fight  as  he  were  tvood."  Steevens. 
^  —  in  Frenchman's  blood  !]  The  return  of  rhyme  where 
youngTalbot  is  again  mentioned,  and  in  no  other  place,  strengthens 
the  suspicion  that  these  verses  were  originally  part  of  some  other 
work,  and  were  copied  here  only  to  save  the  trouble  of  composing 
new.     Johnson. 

9  —  of  a  GIGLOT  wench  .•]     Giglot  is  a  tvanton,  or  a  strumpet. 

Johnson. 
The  word  is  used  by  Gascoigne  and  other  authors,  though  now 
quite  obsolete. 

So,  in  the  play  of  Orlando  Furioso,  1594  : 

"  Whose  choice  is  like  that  Greekish  ^/V/of ^  love, 
"  That  left  her  lord,  prince  Menelaus." 
See  vol.  ix.  p.  197,  n.  7.     Steevens. 

'  —  in  the  bowels  of  the  French,]     So,  in  the  first  part  of 
Jeronimo,  1605 : 

"  Meet,  Don  Andrea  !  yes,  in  the  battle's  botoels." 

Steevens. 
K  2 


132  FIRST  PART  OF  act  jy. 

Enter  Sir  IVilliam  Lucy,  attended ;  a  French 

Herald  preceding. 
Lucy.  Herald, 
Conduct  me  to  the  Dauphin's  tent;  to  know 
Who  hath  obtain'd  -  the  glory  of  the  day. 

Char.    On  what   submissive  message   art   thou 

sent  ? 
Lucy.  Submission,  Dauphin?  'tis  a  mere  French 
word  ; 
We  English  warriors  wot  not  what  it  means. 
I  come  to  know  what  prisoners,  thou  hast  ta'en, 
And  to  survey  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

Char.  For  prisoners,  ask'st  thou  .^  hell  our  prison 
is. 
But  tell  me  whom  thou  seek'st. 

Lucy.  Where  is  the  great  Alcides  ^  of  the  field. 
Valiant  lord  Talbot,  earl  of  Shrewsbury  ? 
Created,  for  his  rare  success  in  arms, 
Great  earl  of  Washford  \  Waterford,  and  Valence ; 

*  Herald, 
Conduct  me  to  the  Dauphin's  tent ;  to  know 
Mlio  hath  obtain'd  — ]     Lucy's  message  implied  that  he  knew 
who  had  obtained  the  victory  :  therefore  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  : 

"  Herald,  conduct  me  to  the  Dauphin's  tent."    .Tohnsok. 

3  Where  is  the  great  Alcides — ]  Old  copy — But  where's. 
Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe.  The  compositor  probably  caught  the 
word  but  from  the  preceding  line.     INIalone. 

4  Great  earl  of  Washford,]  It  appears  from  Camden's  Bri- 
tannia and  Holinshed's  Chronicle  of  Ireland,  that  Wexford  was 
anciently  called  JVejjsford.  In  Crompton's  Mansion  of  Mag- 
nanimitie  it  is  written  as  here,  JVnshfoi-d.  This  long  list  of  titles 
is  taken  from  tlie  epitaph  formerly  fixed  on  Lord  Talbot's  tomb  in 
Rolien  in  Normandv.  Where  this  author  found  it,  1  have  not 
been  able  to  ascertain,  for  it  is  not  in  the  common  historians.  The 
oldest  book  in  which  I  have  met  with  it  is  the  tract  above  men- 
tioned, which  was  printed  in  1599,  posterior  to  the  date  of  this 
play.  Numerous  as  this  list  is,  the  epitaph  has  one  more,  which, 
I  suppose,  was  only  rejected  because  it  would  not  easily  fall  into 
the  verse,  "  Lord  Love^oft  of  Worsop."  It  concludes  as  here,— 
"  Lord  Falconbridge,  Knight  of  the  noble  order  of  St.  George, 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  133 

Lord  Talbot  of  Goodrig  and  Urchinfield, 
Lord  Strange  of  Blackmere,  lord  Verdun  of  Alton, 
Lord  Cromwell  of  Wingfield,  lord  Furnival  of  Shef- 
field, 
The  thrice  victorious  lord  of  Falconbridge  ; 
Knight  of  the  noble  order  of  Saint  George, 
Worthy  Saint  Michael,  and  the  golden  fleece ; 
Great  mareshal  to  Henry  the  sixth, 
Of  all  his  wars  within  the  realm  of  France  ? 

Fuc.  Here  is  a  silly  stately  style  indeed  ! 
The  Turk,  that  two  and  fifty  kingdoms  hath  ^, 
Writes  not  so  tedious  a  style  as  this. — 
Him,  that  thou  magnifiest  with  all  these  titles, 
Stinking,  and  fly-blown,  lies  here  at  our  feet. 

Lucy.    Is    Talbot  slain ;    the  Frenchmen's  only 
scourge. 
Your  kingdom's  terrour  and  black  Nemesis  ? 
O,  were  mine  eye-balls  into  bullets  turn'd. 
That  I,  in  rage,  might  shoot  them  at  your  faces  I 
O,  that  I  could  but  call  these  dead  to  life  ! 
It  were  enough  to  fright  the  realm  of  France  : 
Were  but  his  picture  left  among  you  here. 
It  would  amaze  ^  the  proudest  of  you  all. 
Give  me  their  bodies  ;  that  I  may  bear  them  hence. 
And  give  them  burial  as  beseems  their  worth. 

Puc.  1  think,  this  upstart  is  old  Talbot's  ghost, 
He  speaks  with  such  a  proud  commanding  spirit. 


St.  Michael,  and  the  golden  fleece,  Great  Marshall  to  King 
Henry  VI.  of  his  realm  in  France,  who  died  in  the  battle  of 
Bourdeaux,  1453."     Malone. 

^  The  Turk,  &c.]  Alluding-  probably  to  the  ostentatious  letter 
of  Sultan  Solyman  the  Magnificent,  to  the  Emperor  Ferdinand, 
1562;  in  which  all  the  Grand  Seignor's  titles  are  enumerated. 
See  Knolles's  History  of  the  Turks,  5th  edit.  p.  789.     Grey. 

^  —  amaze  — ]  i.  e.  (as  in  other  instances)  confound,  throw 
into  consternation.     So,  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  I  am  amazd  with  matter ."     Steevens. 


1^4  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

For  God's  sake,  let  him  have  'em " ;  to  keep  them 

here, 
They  would  but  stink,  and  putrefy  the  air. 
Char.  Go,  take  their  bodies  hence, 
Lucy.  V\\  bear  them  hence : 

But  from  their  ashes  shall  be  rear'd 
A  phoenix  ^  that  shall  make  all  France  afeard. 

Char.  So  we  be  rid  of  them,  do  with  em  what 
thou  wilt  ■'. 
And  now  to  Paris,  in  this  conquering  vein  ; 
All  will  be  ours,  now  bloody  Talbot's  slain. 

\_E^veunt. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I.^ 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  HENRYy  Gloster,  and  Exeter. 

K.  Hex.  Have  you  perus'd  the  letters  from  the 
pope, 

7  — let  him  have  'em;]  Old  copy — have /«'»?.  So,  a  little 
lower, — do  with  him.  Tlie  first  emendiition  was  made  by  Mr. 
Theobald  ;  the  other  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  Malone. 
s  But  from  their  ashes  shall  be  rear'd 
A  phoenix,  &c.]  The  defect  in  the  metre  shows  that  some 
word  of  two  syllables  was  inadvertently  omitted  ;  probably  an  epi- 
thet to  ashes.     Malonk. 

So,  in  the  Third  Part  of  this  play  : 

"  My  ashes,  as  the  phoenix,  shall  bring  forth 
"  A  bird  that  will  revenge  upon  you  all." 
Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  with  great  probability,  reads  : 

"  But  from  their  ashes,  Dauphin,"  &c.     Steevens. 
■?  So  we  be  rid  of  them,  do  with  'em  what  thou  wilt.]      I  sup- 
pose, for  the  sake  of  metre,  the  useless  words — uith  'cm  should  be 
omitted.     Steevens. 

*  Act  V.  Scene  i.]     In  the  original  copy,   the   transcriber  or 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VT.  135 

The  emperor,  and  the  earl  of  Armagnac  ? 

Glo.  I  have,  my  lord  ;  and  their  intent  is  this,-— 
They  humbly  sue  unto  your  excellence. 
To  have  a  godly  peace  concluded  of. 
Between  the  realms  of  England  and  of  France. 

K.  Hen.  How  doth  your  grace  affect  their  mo- 
tion ? 

Glo.  Well,  my  good  lord ;  and  as  the  only  means 
To  stop  effusion  of  our  Christian  blood. 
And  'stablish  quietness  on  every  side. 

K.  Hen.  Ay,  marry,  uncle ;  for  I  always  thought. 
It  was  both  impious  and  unnatural, 
That  such  immanity'  and  bloody  strife 
Should  reign  among  professors  of  one  faith. 

Glo.  Beside,  my  lord, — the  sooner  to  effect. 
And  surer  bind,  this  knot  of  amity, — 
The  earl  of  Armagnac — near  knit  to  Charles, 
A  man  of  great  authority  in  France, — 
Proffers  his  only  daughter  to  your  grace 
In  marriage,  with  a  large  and  sumptuous  dowry. 

K.  Hen.  Marriage,  uncle  I  alas !  my  years    are 
young  ■' ; 
And  fitter  is  my  study  and  my  books. 
Than  wanton  daUiance  with  a  paramour. 
Yet,  call  the  ambassadors ;  and,  as  you  please. 
So  let  them  have  their  answers  every  one : 
I  shall  be  well  content  with  any  choice. 
Tends  to  God's  glory,  and  my  country's  weal. 


printer  forgot  to  mark  the  commencement  of  the  fifth  Act ;  and 
has  by  mistake  called  this  scene,  Scene  II.  The  editor  of  the  se- 
cond folio  made  a  very  absurd  regulation  by  making  the  Act  be- 
gin in  the  middle  of  the  preceding  scene,  (where  the  Dauphin,  &c, 
enter,  and  take  notice  of  the  dead  bodies  of  Talbot  and  his  son,) 
which  was  inadvertently  followed  in  subsequent  editions. 

Malone. 

*  —  immanity — ]     i.  e.  barbarity,  savageness.     Steevens. 

3  —  my  years  are  young;]    His  majesty,  however,  was  twentv- 
four  vears  old.     Malone. 


136  FIRST  PART  OF  act  r. 

Enter  a  Legate,  and  Tzvo  Ambassadors,  xvith  ff  m- 
CHESTER,  in  a  Cardinals  Habit. 

ExE.  What  I  is  my  lord  of  Winchester  install'd. 
And  call'd  unto  a  cardinars  degree  ^ ! 
Then,  I  perceive  that  will  be  verified, 
Henry  the  fifth  did  sometime  prophecy, — 
If  once  he  come  to  be  a  cardinal. 
He  II  make  his  cap  co-equal  ivith  the  croitm, 

K.  Hex.  My  lords  ambassadors,  your  several  suits 
Have  been  consider'd  and  debated  on. 
Your  purpose  is  both  good  and  reasonable  : 
And,  therefore,  are  we  certainly  resolv  d. 
To  draw  conditions  of  a  friendly  peace  ; 
Which,  by  my  lord  of  Winchester,  v/e  mean 
Shall  be  transported  presently  to  France. 

Glo.  And  for  the  proffer  of  my  lord  your  mas- 
ter,— 
I  have  inform'd  his  highness  so  at  large. 
As — liking  cf  the  lady's  virtuous  gifts, 
Her  beauty,  and  the  value  of  her  dower, — 
He  doth  intend  she  shall  be  England's  queen. 

K.  Hex.  In  argument  and  proof  of  which  con- 
tract. 
Bear  her  this  jewel,  [To  the  Amb.']  pledge  of  my 
affection. 

*  What  I  is  my  lord  of  Winchester  installM, 
And  call'd  unto  a  cardinal's  degree  I]     This,  (as  Mr.  Edwards 
has  observed  in  his  MS.  notes.)   argues   a  great  forgetfulness  in 
the  poet.     In  the  first  .\ct  Gloster  says  : 

"  I'll  canvass  thee  in  thy  broad  cardinals  hat  :  " 
And  it  is  strange  that  the  Duke  of  Exeter  should  not  know  of  his 
advancement.     Steevens. 

It  sliould  seem  from  the  stage-direction  prefixed  to  this  scene, 
and  from  the  conversation  between  the  Legate  and  Winchester, 
that  the  author  meant  it  to  be  understood  that  the  bishop  had  ob- 
tained his  cardinal's  hat  only  just  before  his  present  entry.  The 
inaccuracy,  therefore,  was  in  making  Gloster  address  him  by  that 
title  in  the  beginning  of  the  play.  He  in  fact  obtained  it  in  the 
fifth  vear  of  Henry's  reign.     Malone. 


sen.  KING  HENRY  VI.  137 

And  so,  my  lord  protector,  see  them  guarded,  " 
And  safely  brought  to  Dover;   where,  inshipp'd. 
Commit  them  to  the  fortune  of  the  sea. 

[_E.vei(nt  King  Henry  and  Train  ;  Gloster, 
Exeter,  and  Ambassadoi^s. 

Wix.  Stay,   my  lord  legate ;  you  shall  first  re- 
ceive 
The  sum  of  money,  which  I  promised 
Should  be  deliver'd  to  his  holiness 
For  clothing  me  in  these  grave  ornaments. 

Leg.   I  will  attend  upon  your  lordship's  leisure. 

JVix.  Now,  Winchester  will  not  submit,  I  trow. 
Or  be  inferior  to  the  proudest  peer. 
Humphrey  of  Gioster,  thou  shalt  well  perceive. 
That,  neither  in  birth  %  or  for  authority, 
The  bishop  will  be  overborne  by  thee  : 
I'll  either  make  thee  stoop,  and  bend  thy  knee, 
Or  sack  this  country  with  a  mutiny.  \_E.vcunt. 


SCENE  II. 

France.     Plains  in  Anjou. 

Enter  Charles,  BrRGUxny,  Alexcox,  La  Pccelle, 
and  Forces,  marching. 

Char.    These  news,   my  lords,   may  cheer  our 
drooping  spirits : 
'Tis  said,  the  stout  Parisians  do  revolt, 
And  turn  again  unto  the  warlike  French. 

Alex.  Then    march   to  Paris,  royal  Charles  of 
France, 
And  keep  not  back  your  powers  in  dalliance. 

Puc.  Peace  be  amongst  them,  if  they  turn  to  us ; 

5  That,  neither  i.v  birth,]  I  would  read— /or  birth.  That  is, 
thou  shalt  not  rule  me,  though  thy  birth  is  legitimate,  and  thy  au- 
thority supreme.     Johnson. 


138  FIRST  PART  OF  act  r. 

Else,  ruin  combat  with  their  palaces ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Success  unto  our  valiant  general, 
And  happiness  to  his  accomplices  ! 

Char.  What  tidings  send  our  scouts  ?  I  pr'ythee, 
speak. 

Mess.  The  English  army,  that  divided  was 
Into  two  parties  ^,  is  now  conjoin  d  in  one  ; 
And  means  to  give  you  battle  presently. 

Char.  Somewhat  too  sudden,  sirs,  the  warning  is; 
But  we  will  presently  provide  for  them. 

Bur.  I  trust,  the  ghost  of  Talbot  is  not  there ; 
Now  he  is  gone,  my  lord,  you  need  not  fear. 

Puc.  Of  all  base  passions,  fear  is  most  accurs'd  :— 
Command  the  conquest,  Charles,  it  shall  be  thine ; 
Let  Henry  fret,  and  all  the  world  repine. 

Char.  Then  on,  my  lords ;  And  France  be  for- 
tunate !  \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  III. 
The  Same.     Before  Anglers. 

Alarums:  Excursions .     Enter  La  Pucelle. 

Puc.  The  regent  conquers,  and  the  Frenchmen 
fly— 
Now  help,  ye  charming  spells,  and  periapts  ^ ; 

^  —  parts,]     Old  copies — parties.     Steevens. 

7  —  ye  charming  spells,  and  periapts  ;]  Charms  sowed  up. 
Ezek.  xiii.  IS  :  "  Woe  to  them  that  sow  pillows  to  all  arm-holes, 
to  hunt  souls."     Pope. 

Periapts  were  worn  about  the  neck  as  preservatives  from  disease 
or^danger.  Of  these,  the  first  chapter  of  St.  John's  Gospel  was 
deemed  the  most  efficacious. 

Whoever  is  desirous  to  know  more  about  them,  may  consult 
Reginald  Scott's  Discovery  of  Witchcraft,  1584,  p.  230,  &c. 

Stbevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  139 

And  ye  choice  spirits  that  admonish  me. 

And  give  me  signs  of  future  accidents  !     [Thunder. 

You  speedy  helpers,  that  are  substitutes 

Under  the  lordly  monarch  of  the  north  **, 

Appear,  and  aid  me  in  this  enterprize  ! 

Enter  Fiends. 

This  speedy  quicl^  appearance  argues  proof 

Of  your  accustom'd  diligence  to  me. 

Now,  ye  familiar  spirits,  that  are  cull'd 

Out  of  the  powerful  regions  under  earth ^, 

Help  me  this  once,  that  France  may  get  the  field. 

[Theij  zvalk  about,  and  speak  not, 
O,  hold  me  not  with  silence  over-long ! 


The  following  story,  which  is  related  in  Wits,  Fits,  and  Fancies, 
1595,  proves  what  Mr.  Steevens  has  asserted  :  "  A  cardinal  seeing 
a  priest  carrying  a  cudgel  under  his  gown,  reprimanded  him.  His 
excuse  was,  that  he  only  carried  it  to  defend  himself  against  the 
dogs  of  the  town.  Wherefore,  I  pray  you,  replied  the  cardinal, 
serves  St.  John's  Gospel  ?  Alas,  my  lord,  said  the  priest,  these 
curs  understand  no  Latin."     Malone. 

^  —  monarch  of  the  north,]  The  north  was  always  supposed 
to  be  the  particular  habitation  of  bad  spirits.  Milton,  therefore, 
assembles  the  rebel  angels  in  the  north.     Johnson. 

The  boast  of  Lucifer  in  the  xivth  chapter  of  Isaiah  is  said  to  be, 
that  he  "will  sit  upon  the  mount  of  the  congregation,  in  the  sides 
of  the  wor/A."     Steevens. 

9  Out  of  the  powerful  REGIONS  under  earth,]  I  believe  Shak- 
speare  wrote — legions.     Warburton. 

"  The  regions  under  earth  "  are  'the  infernal  regions.'  Whence 
else  should  the  sorceress  have  selected  or  summoned  her  fiends  ? 

Steevens. 

In  a  former  passage,  regio7is  seems  to  have  been  printed  instead 
of  legions  ;  at  least  all  the  editors  from  the  time  of  Mr.  Rowe  have 
there  substituted  the  latter  word  instead  of  the  former.  See 
p.  120,  n.  1.  The  word  cull'd,  and  the  e\)'\thet  potveyyul,  which  is 
applicable  to  the  fiends  themselves,  but  not  to  their  place  of  resi- 
dence, show  that  it  has  an  equal  title  to  a  place  in  the  text  here. 
So,  in  The  Tempest : 

" But  one Jiend  at  a  time, 

"  I'll  fight  their  legions  o'er."     Malone. 


140  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ct  v. 

Where  ^  I  was  wont  to  feed  you  with  my  blood, 

I'll  lop  a  member  oif,  and  give  it  you. 

In  earnest  of  a  further  benefit ; 

So  you  do  condescend  to  help  me  now. — 

[Theij  hang  their  heads. 
No  hope  to  have  redress  ? — My  body  shall 
Pay  recompense,  if  you  will  grant  my  suit. 

\_They  shake  their  heads. 
Cannot  my  body,  nor  blood-sacrifice, 
Entreat  you  to  your  wonted  furtherance  ? 
Then  take  my  soul ;  my  body,  soul,  and  all. 
Before  that  England  give  the  French  the  foil. 

[They  depart. 
See!  they  forsake  me.     Now  the  time  is  come. 
That  France  must  vail  her  lofty-plumed  crest  ^ 
And  let  her  head  fall  into  England's  lap. 
My  ancient  incantations  are  too  weak. 
And  hell  too  strong  for  me  to  buckle  with : 
Now,  France,  thy  glory  droopeth  to  the  dust. 

\_Exit. 

Alarums.  Enter  French  and  English,  fightingy 
La  Pucelle  and  YoiiKjight  liand  to  hand.  La 
PucELLE  is  taken.     The  Frenclijiy. 

York.  Damsel  of  France,    I   think,  I  have  you 
fast: 
Unchain  your  spirits  now  with  spelHng  charms. 
And  try  if  they  can  gain  your  liberty. — 
A  goodly  prize,   fit  for  the  devil's  grace  ! 
See,  how  the  ugly  witch  doth  bend  her  brows. 
As  if,  with  Circe,  she  would  change  my  shape  ^. 

'  Where  — ]     i.  e.  ivhereas.     So,  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre  : 
"  Where  now  you're  both  a  father  and  a  son."    Steevens. 

*  —  VAIL  her  lofty-plumed  crest,]     i.  e.  lower  it.     So,  in  The 
Merchant  of  Venice  : 

"  Vailii/ir  her  high  top  lower  than  her  ribs." 

See  vol.  V.  p.  9,  n.  1.     Steevens. 

3  As  if,  with  CiKCE,  &c.]     So,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

"  I  think,  you  all  have  drank  of  Circe's  cup."    Steevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  141 

Puc.  Chang'd  to  a  worser  shape  thou  canst  not 

be. 
York.  O,  Charles  the  Dauphin  is  a  proper  man  ; 
No  shape  but  his  can  please  your  dainty  eye. 

Puc.  A  plaguing  mischief  light  on  Charles,  and 
thee ! 
And  may  ye  both  be  suddenly  surpriz'd 
By  bloody  hands,  in  sleeping  on  your  beds ! 

York.   Fell,  banning  hag'*!     enchantress,    hold 

thy  tongue. 
Puc.  I  pr'ythee,  give  me  leave  to  curse  a  while. 
York.  Curse,  miscreant,  w^hen  thou  comest  to 
the  stake.  \_Exeimt. 

Alarums.     Enter  Suffolk,  leading  in  Lady 

Margaret. 

SuF.  Be  what  thou  wilt,  thou  art  my  prisoner. 

\_Gazes  on  her. 

0  fairest  beauty,  do  not  fear,  nor  fly  ; 

For  I  will  touch  thee  but  with  reverent  hands. 
And  lay  them  gently  on  thy  tender  side. 

1  kiss  these  fingers  \_Kissing  her  hand.^  for  eternal 

peace  ^ : 

"^  Fell,  BANNING  hag  !]     To  ban  is  to  curse.     So,  in  The  Jew  of 
Malta,  1633 : 

"  I  6an  their  souls  to  everlasting  pains."     Steevens. 
5  I  kiss  these  fingers  for  eternal  peace  :]     In  the  old  copy  these 
lines  are  thus  arranged  and  pointed  : 

"  For  I  will  touch  thee  but  with  reverent  hands, 
"  I  kiss  these  fingers  for  eternal  peace, 
"  And  lay  them  gently  on  thy  tender  side." 
By  which  Suffolk  is  made  to  kiss  his  own  fingers,  a  symbol  of  peace 
of  which^  there  is,  I  believe,  no  example.     The  transposition  was 
made,  I  think,  rightly,  by  Mr.  Capell.     In  the  old  edition,  as  here, 
there  is  only  a  comma  after  "  hands,"  which  seems  to  counte- 
nance the  regulation  now  made.     To  obtain  something  like  sense, 
the  modern  editors  were  obliged  to  put  a  full  point  at  the  end  of 
that  line. 

In  confirmation  of  the  transposition  here  made,  let  it  be  remem- 


142  FIRST  PART  OF  ^ctv. 

Who  art  thou  ?  say,  that  I  may  honour  thee. 

Mar.  Margaret   my  name  ;  and   daughter  to  a 
king, 
The  king  of  Naples,  whosoe'er  thou  art. 

SuF.  An  earl  I  am,  and  Suffolk  am  I  call'd. 
Be  not  offended,  nature's  miracle. 
Thou  art  allotted  to  be  ta'en  by  me  : 
So  doth  the  swan  her  downy  cygnets  save, 
Keeping  them  prisoners  underneath  her  wings''. 
Yet,  if  this  servile  usage  once  offend. 
Go,  and  be  free  again  as  Suffolk's  friend. 

[She  turns  away  as  going, 
O,  stay  ! — I  have  no  power  to  let  her  pass ; 
My  hand  would  free  her,  but  my  heart  says — no  ^. 
As  plays  the  sun  upon  the  glassy  streams  ^, 

bered  that  two  lines  are  in  like  manner  misplaced  in  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  Act  I.  fol.  1623  : 

"  Or  like  a  star  dis-orb'd  ;  nay,  if  we  talk  of  reason, 
"  And  fly  like  a  cliidden  Mercury  from  Jove." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  III.  Act  IV.  Sc.  IV. : 

"  That  reigns  in  galled  eyes  of  weeping  souls, 
"  That  excellent  grand  tyrant  of  the  earth."     Malone. 
7  —  HER  wings]     Old  copy — his.     This  manifest  error  I  only 
mention,  because  it  supports  a  note  in  vol.  vi.  p.  506,  n.  4,  and 
justifies  the  change  there  made.     Her  was  formerly  spelt  Jiir ; 
hence  it  was  often  confounded  with  his.     Malone. 

^  My  hand  would  free  her,  but  my  heart  says — no.]     Thus, 
in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona : 

" my  heart  accords  thereto, 

"  And  yet  a  thousand  times  it  anstvers — no."  Steevens. 
9  As  plays  the  sun  upon  the  glassy  streams,  &c.]  This  com- 
parison, made  between  things  which  seem  sufficiently  unlike,  is 
intended  to  express  the  softness  and  delicacy  of  Lady  Margaret's 
beauty,  which  delighted,  but  did  not  dazzle  ;  which  was  bright, 
but  gave  no  pain  by  its  lustre.  Johnson. 
Thus,  Tasso  : 

Qual  raggio  in  onda,  le  scintilla  un  riso 

Negli  umidi  occhi  tremulo .     Henley. 

Sidney,  in  his  Astrophel  and  Stella,  serves  to  support  Dr.  John- 
son's explanation  : 

"  Lest  if  no  vaile  these  brave  gleames  did  disguise, 
**  They,  sun-like,  should  more  dazle  than  delight." 


sc.iii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  143 

Twinkling  another  counterfeited  beam. 
So  seems  this  gorgeous  beauty  to  mine  eyes. 
Fain  would  I  woo  her,  yet  I  dare  not  speak : 
I'll  call  for  pen  and  ink,  and  write  my  mind : 
Fye,  De  la  Poole  !   disable  not  thyself  ^ ; 
Hast  not  a  tongue  ?  is  she  not  here  thy  prisoner  ^  ? 
Wilt  thou  be  daunted  at  a  woman's  sight  ? 
Ay  ;  beauty's  princely  majesty  is  such, 
Confounds    the    tongue,    and    makes   the  senses 
rough  ^. 

Mar.  Say,  earl  of  Suffolk, — if  thy  name  be  so, — 
What  ransom  must  I  pay  before  I  pass  ? 
For,  I  perceive,  I  am  thy  prisoner. 

SuF.  How  canst  thou  tell,    she  will  deny  thy  suit 
Before  thou  make  a  trial  of  her  love  ?  [Aside. 

Mar.    Why  speak'st   thou   not?    what  ransom 
must  I  pay  ? 

SuF.  She's  beautiful ;  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd : 
She  is  a  woman  ;  therefore  to  be  won  '*.         \_Aside. 

Mar.  Wilt  thou  accept  of  ransom,  yea,  or  no  ? 

SvF.  Fond  man  !  remember,  that  thou  hast  a 
wife; 
Then  how  can  Margaret  be  thy  paramour  ?  [Aside. 

Mar.  I  were  best  leave  him,  for  he  will  not  hear. 


*  — disable  not  thyself;]  Do  not  represent  thyself  so  weak. 
To  disable  the  judgment  of  another  was,  in  that  age,  the  same  as 
to  destroy  its  credit  or  authority.     Johnson. 

So,  in  As  You  Like  it.  Act  V. :  "  If  again,  it  was  not  well  cut, 
he  disabled  my  judgment .''     Steevens. 

^  Hast  not  a  tongue?  is  she  not  here  thy  prisoner  ?]  The 
words — thy  prisoner,  which  are  wanting  in  the  first  folio,  are  found 
in  the  second.     Steevens. 

3  —  and  makes  the  senses  rough.]  The  meaning  of  this  word 
is  not  very  obvious.     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — crouch. 

Malone. 

"*  She  is  a  woman  ;  therefore  to  be  won.]  This  seems  to  be  a 
proverbial  line,  and  occurs  in  Greene's  Planetomachia,  1585. 

Steevens. 


144  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

SuF.  There  all  is   marr'd  ;  there  lies  a  cooling 
card  '. 

Mar.  He  talks  at  random  ;  sure,  the  man  is  mad, 

SuF.  And  yet  a  dispensation  may  be  had. 

Mar.  And  yet  I  would  that  you  would  answer  me. 

SuF.  I'll  win  this  lady  Margaret.     For  whom  ? 
Why,  for  my  king  :  Tush  !  that's  a  wooden  thing  ®. 

Mar.  He  talks  of  wood  :   It  is  some  carpenter. 

SuF.  Yet  so  my  fancy  '  may  be  satisfied, 
And  peace  estabhshed  between  these  realms. 
But  there  remains  a  scruple  in  that  too  : 
For  though  her  father  be  the  king  of  Naples, 
Duke  of  Anjou  and  Maine,  yet  is  he  poor. 
And  our  nobility  will  scorn  the  match.  [^^side. 

Mar.  Hear  ye,  captain  ?  Are  you  not  at  leisure  ? 

SuF.  It  shall  be  so,  disdain  they  ne'er  so  much : 
Henry  is  youthful,  and  will  quickly  yield. — 
Madam,  I  have  a  secret  to  reveal. 

Mar.  What  though  I  be  enthrall'd  ?  he  seems  a 
knight. 
And  will  not  any  way  dishonour  me.  [Aside. 

5  — a  cooLixG  CARD.]     So,  in  Marius  and  Sylla,  1594': 

"  rU  have  a  present  cooling  card  for  you."     Steevens. 
^  —  a  WOODEN  thing.]     Is  an  aukward  business,  an  undertak- 
ing not  likely  to  succeed. 

So,  in  Lyly's  Galathea,  1592  :   "  Would  I  were  out  of  these 
woods,  for  I  shall  have  but  wooden  luck." 
Again,  in  Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella: 

"  Or,  seeing,   have   so  ivoodden  wits  as  not  that  worth  to 
know." 
Again,  in  The  Knave  of  Spades,  &c.  no  date  : 

"  To  make  an  end  of  that  same  tvooden  phrase." 

Steevens. 
Again,  in  Bacon's  Essays,  1628  :   "  It  is  sport  to  see  a  bold  fel- 
low out  of  countenance,  for  that  puts  his  face  into  a  most  shrunken 
and  wooden  posture.     Malone. 

7  — my   fancy — ]     i.e.    my  love.     So,   in  A  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream  : 

"  Fair  Helena  in  fan  a/  following  me." 
See  vol.  V  p.  301,  n.  7.     Steevens. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENHY  VI.  145 

SuF.  Lady,  vouchsafe  to  listen  what  I  say. 

Mar.  Perhaps,  I  shall  be  rescu'd  by  the  French  ; 
And  then  I  need  not  crave  his  courtesy.        [Aside. 

SuF.  Sweet  madam,  give  me  hearing  in  a  cause — 

Mar.  Tush !  women  have  been  captivate  ere  now. 

[Aside. 

SuF.  Lady,  wherefore  talk  you  so  ? 

Mar.  I  cry  you  mercy,  'tis  but  quid  for  quo. 

SuF.  Say,  gentle  princess,  would  you  not  suppose 
Your  bondage  happy,  to  be  made  a  queen  ? 

Mar.  To  be  a  queen  in  bondage,  is  more  vile. 
Than  is  a  slave  in  base  servility  ; 
For  princes  should  be  free. 

SuF.  And  so  shall  you. 

If  happy  England's  royal  king  be  free. 

Mar.  Why,  what  concerns  his  freedom  unto  me  ? 

SuF.  I'll  undertake  to  make  thee  Henry's  queen; 
To  put  a  golden  scepter  in  thy  hand, 
And  set  a  precious  crown  upon  thy  head, 
If  thou  wilt  condescend  to  be  my — ^ 

Mar.  What  ? 

SuF.  His  love. 

Mar.  I  am  unworthy  to  be  Henry's  wife. 

SuF.  No,  gentle  madam ;  I  unworthy  am 
To  woo  so  fair  a  dame  to  be  his  wife. 
And  have  no  portion  in  the  choice  myself. 
How  say  you,  madam  ;  are  you  so  content  ? 

Mar.  An  if  my  father  please,  I  am  content. 

SuF.  Then  call  our  captains,  and  our  colours, 
forth : 

^  If  thou  wilt  condescend  to  be  my  — ]  I  have  little  doubt 
that  the  words — be  my,  are  an  interpolation,  and  that  the  passage 
originally  stood  thus : 

"  If  thou  wilt  condescend  to  — — 

What? 

His  love." 
Both  sense  and  measure  are  then  complete.     Steevens. 
VOL.  XVIII.  L 


146  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

And,  madam,  at  your  father's  castle  walls 
We'll  crave  a  parley,  to  confer  with  him. 

[Troops  come  forward. 

A  Parky  sounded.     Enter  Reignier,  on  the 

Walls. 
SuF.  See,  Reignier,  see,  thy  daughter  prisoner. 

Reig.  To  whom  ? 

SuF.  To  me. 

Reig.  Suffolk,  what  remedy  ? 

I  am  a  soldier  ;  and  unapt  to  weep, 
Or  to  exclaim  on  fortune's  fickleness. 

SuF.  Yes,  there  is  remedy  enough,  my  lord : 
Consent,  (and,  for  thy  honour,  give  consent,) 
Thy  daughter  shall  be  wedded  to  my  king ; 
Whom  I  with  pain  have  woo'd  and  won  thereto ; 
And  this  her  easy-held  imprisonment 
Hath  gain'd  thy  daughter  princely  liberty. 

Reig.  Speaks  Suffolk  as  he  thinks  ? 

SuF.  Fair  Margaret  knows, 

That  Suffolk  doth  not  flatter,  face,  or  feign  ^ 

Reig.  Upon  thy  princely  warrant,  I  descend, 
To  give  thee  answer  of  thy  just  demand. 

\_E.vit,  from  the  JValls. 

SuF.  And  here  I  will  expect  thy  coming. 

Trumpets  sounded.     Enter  Reignier,   below. 

Reig.  Welcome,  brave  earl,  into  our  territories  ; 
Command  in  Anjou  what  your  honour  pleases. 

SuF.  Thanks,    Reignier,    happy  for   so  sweet  a 
child. 
Fit  to  be  made  companion  with  a  king : 

9  —  FACE,  or  feign,]  "  To  face  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  is  to  carry 
a  false  appearance  ;  to  play  the  hypocrite."  Hence  the  name  of 
one  of  the  characters  in  Ben  Jonson's  Alchymist.     Malone. 

So,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  : 

"  Yet  have  Ifaced  it  with  a  card  of  ten."     Steevens. 


sc.  ///.  KING  HENRY  VI.  147 

What  answer  makes  your  grace  unto  my  suit  ? 

Reig.  Since  thou  dost  deign  to  woo  her  little 
worth  \ 
To  be  the  princely  bride  of  such  a  lord  ; 
Upon  condition  I  may  quietly 
Enjoy  mine  own,  the  county  Maine  ^,  and  Anjou, 
Free  from  oppression,  or  the  stroke  of  war. 
My  daughter  shall  be  Henry's,  if  he  please. 

SuF.  That  is  her  ransom,  I  deliver  her ; 
And  those  two  counties,  I  will  undertake. 
Your  grace  shall  well  and  quietly  enjoy. 

Reig.  And  I  again, — in  Henry's  royal  name. 
As  deputy  unto  that  gracious  king, 
Give  thee  her  hand,  for  sign  of  plighted  faith. 

SuF.    Reignier  of  France,    I    give   thee  kingly 
thanks. 
Because  this  is  in  traffick  of  a  king : 
And  yet,  methinks,  I  could  be  well  content 
To  be  mine  own  attorney  in  this  case.  \^^si(le. 

I'll  over  then  to  England  with  this  news. 
And  make  this  marriage  to  be  solemniz'd  ; 
So,  farewell,  Reignier  !  Set  this  diamond  safe 
In  golden  palaces,  as  it  becomes. 

Reig.  I  do  embrace  thee,  as  I  would  embrace 
The  Christian  prince,  king  Henry,  were  he  here. 

Mar.  Farewell,  my  lord !  Good  wishes,  praise, 
and  prayers. 
Shall  Suffolk  ever  have  of  Margaret.  [Going. 

'  Since  thou  dost  deign  to  woo  her  little  worth,  &c.]     "  To 
woo  her  little  worth"  may  mean   'to  court  her  small  share  of 
merit.'     But  perhaps  the  passage  should  be  pointed  thus  : 
"  Since  thou  dost  deign  to  woo  her,  little  worth 
"  To  be  the  princely  bride  of  such  a  lord  ;  " 
i.  e.  little  deserving  to  be  the  wife  of  such  a  prince.     Malone. 

^  —  the  COUNTY  Maine,]     Maine  is  called  a  county  both  by 
Hall  and  Holinshed.     The  old  copy  erroneously  reads — country. 

Malone. 

1.2 


148  FIRST  PART  OF  jct  r. 

SuF.  Farewell,  sweet  madam  !   But  hark  you, 
Margaret ; 
No  princely  commendations  to  my  king  ? 

M.^R.  Such  commendations  as  become  a  maid, 
A  virgin,  and  his  servant,  say  to  him. 

SuF.  Words  sweetly  plac'd,  and  modestly  ^  di- 
rected. 
But,  madam,  I  must  trouble  you  again, — 
No  loving  token  to  his  majesty  ? 

M.jn.  Yes,  my  good  lord  ;  a  pure  unspotted  heart. 
Never  yet  taint  with  love,  I  send  the  king. 

SuF.  And  this  withal.  [Kisses  her. 

Mar.  That  for  thyself ; — I  will  not  so  presume. 
To  send  such  peevish  tokens  ^  to  a  king. 

\_Exeunt  Reignier  and  Margaret. 

SuF.  O,  wertthou  for  myself ! — But,  Suffolk,  stay ; 
Thou  may'st  not  wander  in  that  labyrinth  ; 
There  Minotaurs,  and  ugly  treasons,  lurk. 
Solicit  Henry  with  her  wond'rous  praise : 
Bethink  thee  on  her  virtues  that  surmount ; 
Mad,  natural  graces  ^  that  extinguish  art ; 

3  —  modestly — ]  Old  copy — modestij.  Corrected  by  the  edi- 
tor of  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

4  To  send  such  peevish  tokens — ]     Peevish,  for  childish. 

Warburton. 
See  a  note  on  Cymbeline,  vol.  xiii.  p,  49,  n.9  :  "  He's  strange 
and  peevish."     Steevens. 

5  Mad,  natural  graces  — ]  So  the  old  copy.  The  modern  edi- 
tors have  been  content  to  read—he?-  natural  graces.  By  the  word 
mad,  however,  I  believe  the  poet  only  meant  xvi/d  or  uncultivated. 
In  the  former  of  these  significations  he  appears  to  have  used  it  in 
Othello : 

"  — -  he  she  lov'd  prov'd  mad." 
Which  Dr,  Johnson   has  properly  interpreted.     We  call  a  v.ild 
girl,  to  this  day,  a  mad-cap. 

In  Macer's  Herball,  practysyd  by  Doctor  Linacre ;  Translated 
out  of  Laten  into  Englyshe,  &c.  bl.  1.  no  date,  the  epithet  mad 
seems  also  to  be  used  in  an  uncommon  sense  :  "  The  vertue  of 
this  herbe  [lactuca  leporica]  is  thus  :  yf  a  hare  eat  of  this  herbe 
in  somer  whan  he  is  mad,  he  shall  be  hole." 


sc,  /r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  149 

Repeat  their  semblance  often  on  the  seas, 
That,  when  thou  com'st  to  kneel  at  Henry's  feet, 
Thou  may'st  bereave  him  of  his  wits  with  wonder. 

SCENE  IV. 
Camp  of  the  Duke  of  York,  in  Anjou. 

Enter  York,  Jf^RTncK,  and  Others. 

York.  Bring  forth  that  sorceress,  condemn'd  to 
burn. 

Enter  La  Pucelle,  guarded,  and  a  Shepherd. 

Shep.  Ah,  Joan !  this  kills  thy  father's  heart  ^ 
out-right ! 
Have  I  sought  every  country  far  and  near. 
And,  now  it  is  my  chance  to  find  thee  out, 
Must  I  behold  thy  timeless^  cruel  death  ? 

Mad,  in  some  of  the  ancient  books  of  gardening,  is  used  as  an 
epithet  to  plants  which  grow  rampant  and  wild.     Steevens. 

In  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  1634',  mad  is  used  in  the  same 
manner  as  in  the  text : 

"  Is  it  not  mad  lodging  in  these  wild  woods  here  ?  " 
Again,  in  Nashe's  Have  With  You  to  Saffron  Walden,  1596  : 
"  —  with  manie  more  madde  tricks  of  youth  never  plaid  before." 

Malone. 
It  is  possible  that  Steevens  may  be  right  in  asserting  that  the 
word  rnad,  may  have  been  used  to  express  ivild  ;  but  I  believe  it 
was  never  used  as  descriptive  of  excellence,  or  as  applicable  to 
grace.  The  passage  is  in  truth  erroneous,  as  is  also  the  amend- 
ment of  former  editors.  That  which  I  should  propose  is,  to  read 
ajid,  instead  of  mad,  words  that  might  easily  have  been  mistaken 
for  each  other  : 

"  Bethink  thee  of  her  virtues  that  surmount, 
"  And  natural  graces,  that  extinguish  art." 
That  is,  think  of  her  virtues  that  surmount  art,  and  of  her  natural 
graces  that  extinguish  it.     M.  Mason. 

^  —  KILLS  thy  father's  heart — ]  This  phrase  occurs  likewise 
in  King  Henry  V.  and  The  Winter's  Tale.     Steevens. 

7  — timeless — ]     \^  untimely.     So,  in   Drayton's  Legend  of 
Robert  Duke  of  Normandy  : 

"  Thy  strength  was  buried  in  his  timeless  death." 

Steevens. 


150  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

Ah,  Joan,  sweet  daughter  Joan,  I'll  die  with  thee ! 

Pz7c.  Decrepit  miser  ^  I  base  ignoble  wretch ! 
I  am  descended  of  a  gentler  blood  ; 
Thou  art  no  father,  nor  no  friend,  of  mine. 

Shep.  Out,  out ! — My  lords,  an  please  you,  'tis 
not  so; 
I  did  beget  her,  all  the  parish  knows : 
Her  mother  liveth  yet,  can  testify. 
She  was  the  first  fruit  of  my  bachelorship. 

War,  Graceless !  wilt  thou  deny  thy  parentage  ? 

York.  This  argues  what  her  kind  of  life  hath 
been  ; 
Wicked  and  vile ;  and  so  her  death  concludes  ^. 

Shep.  Fye,  Joan  !  that  thou  wilt  be  so  obstacle^! 


^  Decrepit  miser  !]  Miser  has  no  relation  to  avarice  in  this 
passage,  but  simply  means  a  miserable  creature.  So,  in  the  inter- 
lude of  Jacob  and  Esau,  1568  : 

"  But  as  for  these  misers  within  my  father's  tent  — ." 
Again,  in  Lord  Sterline's  tragedy  of  Croesus,  1601 : 
"  Or  think'st  thou  me  of  judgement  too  remiss, 

"  A  yniser  that  in  miserie  remains, 
"  The  bastard  child  of  fortune,  barr'd  from  bliss, 

"  Whom  heaven  doth  hate,  and  all  the  world  disdains  ?" 
Again,  in  Holinshed,  p.  760,  where  he  is  speaking  of  the  death 
of  Richard  III. :   "  And  so  this  miser,  at  the  same  verie  point,  had 
like  chance  and  fortune,"  &c.     Again,  p.  951,  among  the  last 
words  of  Lord  Cromwell :  "  —  for  if  I  should  so  doo,  I  were  a  very 
wretch  and  a  miser."   Again,  ibid.  :  "  —  and  so  patiently  suffered 
the  stroke  of  the  ax,  by  a  ragged  and  butcherlie  miser,  which  ill- 
favouredlie  performed  the  office."     Steevens. 
9  This  argues  what  her  kind  of  life  hath  been  ; 
Wicked  and  vile  ;  and  so  her  death  concludes.]     So,  in  this 
play,  Part  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  III. : 

"  So  bad  a  death  argues  a  monstrous  life."     Steevens. 
1  —  that  thou  wilt  be  so  obstacle  !]     A  vulgar  corruption  of 
obstinate,  which  I  think  has  oddly  lasted  since  our  author's  time 
till  now.     Johnson. 

The  same  corruption  may  be  met  with  in  Gower,  and  other  wri- 
ters.    Thus,  in  Chapman's  May-Day,  1611 : 
"  An  obstacle  young  thing  it  is." 
Again,  in  The  Tragedy  of  Hoffman,  1631  : 

"  Be  not  obstacle,  old  duke."     Steevens. 


sc.iF,  KING  HENRY  VI.  151 

God  knows,  thou  art  a  collop  of  my  flesh  ^ ; 
And  for  thy  sake  have  I  shed  many  a  tear : 
Deny  me  not,  I  pr'ythee,  gentle  Joan. 

Puc.  Peasant,  avaunt ! — You  have  suborn'd  this 
man, 
Of  purpose  to  obscure  my  noble  birth. 

Shep.  'Tis  true,  I  gave  a  noble  ^  to  the  priest. 
The  morn  that  I  was  wedded  to  her  mother. — 
Kneel  down  and  take  my  blessing,  good  my  girl. 
Wilt  thou  not  stoop  ?  Now  cursed  be  the  time 
Of  thy  nativity !  I  would,  the  milk 
Thy  mother  gave  thee,    when   thou  suck'dst  her 

breast. 
Had  been  a  little  ratsbane  for  thy  sake ! 
Or  else,  when  thou  didst  keep  my  lambs  a-field, 
I  wish  some  ravenous  wolf  had  eaten  thee  ! 
Dost  thou  deny  thy  father,  cursed  drab  ? 
O,  burn  her,  burn  her;  hanging  is  too  good. 

\^E.vit. 

York.  Take  her  away;  for   she   hath  liv'd  too 
long. 
To  fill  the  world  with  vicious  qualities. 

Puc.  First,  let  me  tell  you  whom  you  have  con- 
demn'd ; 
Not  me  *  begotten  of  a  shepherd  swain. 
But  issu'd  from  the  progeny  of  kings ; 
Virtuous,  and  holy  ;  chosen  from  above, 

^  —  a  collop  of  my  flesh  ;]     So,  in  The  History  of  Morindos 
and  Miracola,  1609,  quarto,  bl.  1. :  "  —  yet  being  his  second  selfe, 
a  collop  of  his  ownjlesh,"  &c.     Ritson. 
So,  inThe  Winter's  Tale,  vol.  xiv.  p.  250  : 

"  Most  dearest !  my  collop"     Malone. 
3  ■  my  noble  birth. 

Shep.  'Tis  true,  I  gave  a  noble — ]  This  passage  seems  to 
corroborate  an  explanation,  somewhat  far-fetched,  which  I  have 
given  in  King  Henry  IV.  of  the  iiobleman  and  royal  man. 

Johnson. 
■*  Not  ME  — ]   I  believe  the  author  wrote — Not  one.     Malone 


152  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

By  inspiration  of  celestial  grace. 

To  work  exceeding  miracles  on  earth. 

I  never  had  to  do  with  wicked  spirits : 

But  you, — that  are  polluted  with  your  lusts, 

Stain'd  with  the  guiltless  blood  of  innocents, 

Corrupt  and  tainted  with  a  thousand  vices, — 

Because  you  want  the  grace  that  others  have. 

You  judge  it  straight  a  thing  impossible 

To  compass  wonders,  but  by  help  of  devils. 

No,  misconceived  ^ !  Joan  of  Arc  hath  been 

A  virgin  from  her  tender  infancy. 

Chaste  and  immaculate  in  very  thought ; 

Whose  maiden  blood,  thus  rigorously  effus'd. 

Will  cry  for  vengeance  at  the  gates  of  heaven. 

York.  Ay,  ay; — away  with  her  to  execution. 

War.  And  hark  ye,  sirs ;  because  she  is  a  maid. 
Spare  for  no  fagots,  let  there  be  enough  : 
Place  barrels  of  pitch  upon  the  fatal  stake. 
That  so  her  torture  may  be  shortened. 

Fuc.  Will  nothing  turn  your  unrelenting  hearts  ? — 
Then,  Joan,  discover  thine  infirmity  ; 
That  warranteth  by  law  to  be  thy  privilege  ®. — 
I  am  with  child,  ye  bloody  homicides  : 
Murder  not  then  the  fruit  within  my  womb. 
Although  ye  hale  me  to  a  violent  death. 

York.  Now  heaven  forefend !  the  holy  maid  with 
child  ? 

IVar.  The  greatest  miracle  that  e'er  ye  wrought : 
Is  all  your  strict  preciseness  come  to  this  ? 

York.  She   and    the    Dauphin  have  been  jug- 
gling : 
I  did  imagine  what  would  be  her  refuge. 

5  No,  misconceived  !]  i.  e.  No,  ye  misconceivers,  ye  who  mis- 
take me  and  my  qualities.     Steevens. 

^  That  warranteth  by  law  to  be  thy  privilege.]  The  useless 
words — to  be,  which  spoil  the  measure,  are  an  evident  interpola- 
tion.    Steevens. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  153 

J^AR.    Well,  go  to ;    we  will  have  no  bastards 
live ; 
Especially,  since  Charles  must  father  it. 

Puc.  You  are  deceiv'd;  my  child  is  none  of  his; 
It  was  Alen9on,  that  enjoy'd  my  love. 

York.  Alen9on !  that  notorious  MachiaveF  ! 
It  dies,  an  if  it  had  a  thousand  lives. 

Puc.  O,  give  me  leave,  I  have  deluded  you ; 
'Twas  neither  Charles,  nor  yet  the  duke  I  nam'd, 
But  Reignier,  king  of  Naples,  that  prevail'd. 

JVar.  a  married  man  !  that's  most  intolerable. 

York.  Why,  here's  a  girl !  I  think,  she  knows 
not  well. 
There  were  so  many,  whom  she  may  accuse. 

JKiR.  It's  sign,  she  hath  been  liberal  and  free. 

York.  And,  yet,  forsooth,  she  is  a  virgin  pure. — 
Strumpet,  thy  words  condemn  thy  brat,  and  thee  : 
Use  no  entreaty,  for  it  is  in  vain. 

Puc.  Then  lead  me  hence  ; — with  whom  I  leave 
my  curse  : 
May  never  glorious  sun  reflex  his  beams 
Upon  the  country  where  you  make  abode  ! 
But  darkness  and  the  gloomy  shade  of  death 
Environ  you ;  till  mischief,  and  despair, 

7  Alen^on  !  that  notorious  Machiavel  !]  Machiavel  being 
mentioned  somewhat  before  his  time,  this  line  is  by  some  of  the 
editors  given  to  the  players,  and  ejected  from  the  text. 

Johnson. 
The  character  of  Machiavel  seems  to  have  made  so  very  deep 
an  impression  on  the  draraatick  writers   of  this  age,   that  he    is 
many  times  as  prematurely  spoken  of.     So,  in  The  Valiant  Welch- 
man,  1615,  one  of  the  characters  bids  Caradoc,  i.  e.  Caractacus, 

"  . read  Machiavel : 

"  Princes  that  would  aspire,  must  mock  at  hell." 
Again  : 

" my  brain 

"  Italianates  ray  barren  faculties 

"  To  Machiavclian  blackness."     Steevens. 


154  FIRST  PART  OF  m;t  f. 

Drive  you  to  break  your  necks,  or  hang  yourselves  ^ ! 

[^E.vit,  guarded. 
York.    Break  thou  in  pieces,    and  consume  to 
;  ashes. 

Thou  foul  accursed  minister  of  hell ! 

Enter  Cardinal  Beaufort,  attended. 

Car.  Lord  regent,  I  do  greet  your  excellence 
With  letters  of  commission  from  the  king. 
For  know,  my  lords,  the  states  of  Christendom, 
Mov'd  with  remorse  ^  of  these  outrageous  broils. 
Have  earnestly  implor'd  a  general  peace 
Betwixt  our  nation  and  the  aspiring  French  ; 
And  here  at  hand  the  Dauphin,  and  his  train, 
Approacheth,  to  confer  about  some  matter. 

York.  Is  all  our  travail  turn'd  to  this  effect  ? 
After  the  slaughter  of  so  many  peers. 
So  many  captains,  gentlemen,  and  soldiers. 
That  in  this  quarrel  have  been  overthrown. 
And  sold  their  bodies  for  their  country's  benefit. 
Shall  we  at  last  conclude  effeminate  peace  ? 
Have  we  not  lost  most  part  of  all  the  towns. 
By  treason,  falsehood,  and  by  treachery, 
Our  great  progenitors  had  conquered  ? — 
O,  Warwick,  Warwick  !  I  foresee  with  grief 
The  utter  loss  of  all  the  realm  of  France. 

War.  Be  patient,  York :  if  we  conclude  a  peace. 
It  shall  be  with  such  strict  and  severe  covenants, 

9  — till  mischief,  and  despair, 
Drive  you  to  break  your  necks,  or  hang  yourselves  !]     Per- 
haps Shakspeare  intended  to  remark,  in  this  execration,  the  fre- 
quency of  suicide  among  the  English,  which  has  been  commonly 
imputed  to  the  gloominess  of  their  air.     Johnson. 

'  —  remorse—]     i.  e.  compassion,  pity.     So,  in  Measure  for 
Measure  : 

"  If  so  your  heart  were  touch'd  with  that  remorse 
"  As  mine  is  to  him."     Steevens. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  155 

As  little  shall  the  Frenchmen  gain  thereby. 

Enter  Charles,  attended;  Alencon,  Bastardy 
Reignier,  and  Others. 

Char,  Since,  lords  of  England,  it  is  thus  agreed. 
That  peaceful  truce  shall  be  proclaim'd  in  France, 
We  come  to  be  informed  by  yourselves 
What  the  conditions  of  that  league  must  be. 

York.    Speak,  Winchester;    for   boiling    choler 
chokes 
The  hollow  passage  of  my  poison'd  voice  '^, 
By  sight  of  these  our  baleful  enemies  ^. 

Win.  Charles,  and  the  rest,  it  is  enacted  thus  : 
That — in  regard  king  Henry  gives  consent, 
Of  mere  compassion,  and  of  lenity. 
To  ease  your  country  of  distressful  war. 
And  suffer  you  to  breathe  in  fruitful  peace, — 
You  shall  become  true  liegemen  to  his  crown : 
And,  Charles,  upon  condition  thou  wilt  swear 
To  pay  him  tribute,  and  submit  thyself. 
Thou  shalt  be  plac'd  as  viceroy  under  him. 
And  still  enjoy  thy  regal  dignity. 

Alen.  Must  he  be  then  as  shadow  of  himself  ? 
Adorn  his  temples  with  a  coronet  ^  ; 

*  —  poison'd  voice,]     Poison'd  voice  agrees  well  enough  with 
baneful  enemies,  or  with  baleful,  if  it  can  be  used  in  the  same 
sense.     The  modern  editors  read — prison\l  voice .     Johnson. 
Pmo^V/ was  introduced  by  Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 
3  —  BALEFUL  enemies.]     Baleful  is  sorrowful ;  I  therefore  ra- 
ther imagine  that  we  should  read — baneful,  hurtful,  or  mischievous. 

Johnson. 
Baleful  had  anciently  the  same  meaning  as  baneful.     It  is  an 
epithet  very  frequently  bestowed  on  poisonous  plants  and  reptiles. 
So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  With  baleful  weeds,  and  precious-juiced  flowers." 

Steevens. 
^  —  with  a  CORONET ;]     Coronet  is  here  used  for  a  croivn. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Lear,  vol.  x.  p.  15  : 


156  FIRST  PART  OF  .4ct  r. 

And  yet,  in  substance  and  authority. 
Retain  but  privilege  of  a  private  man  ? 
This  proffer  is  absurd  and  reasonless. 

Char.  'Tis  known,  already  that  I  am  possess'd 
With  more  than  half  the  Gallian  territories. 
And  therein  reverenc'd  for  their  lawful  king  : 
Shall  1,  for  lucre  of  the  rest  unvanquish'd. 
Detract  so  much  from  that  prerogative. 
As  to  be  call'd  but  viceroy  of  the  whole  ? 
No,  lord  ambassador ;  I'll  rather  keep 
That  which  I  have,  than,  coveting  for  more, 
Be  cast  from  possibility  of  all. 

York.    Insulting  Charles  !    hast  thou  by  secret 
means 
Used  intercession  to  obtain  a  league  ; 
And,  now  the  matter  grows  to  compromise, 
Stand'st  thou  aloof  upon  comparison  ^  ? 
Either  accept  the  title  thou  usurp'st. 
Of  benefit  ^  proceeding  from  our  king, 
And  not  of  any  challenge  of  desert. 
Or  we  will  plague  thee  with  incessant  wars. 

Reig.  My  lord,  you  do  not  well  in  obstinacy 
To  cavil  in  the  course  of  this  contract : 
If  once  it  be  neglected,  ten  to  one. 
We  shall  not  find  like  opportunity. 

Alen.  To  say  the  truth,  it  is  your  policy. 
To  save  your  subjects  from  such  massacre. 
And  ruthless  slaughters,  as  are  daily  seen 

■  which  to  confirm, 


"  This  coronet  part  between  you." 
These  are  the  words  of  Lear,  when  he  gives  up  his  croiKti  to 
Cornwall  and  Albany.     Steevens. 

^  —  upon  comparison  ?]     Do  you  stand  to  compare  your  pre- 
sent state,  a  state  which  you  have  neither  right  or  power  to  main- 
tain, with  the  terms  which  we  offer?     Johnson. 
^  —  accept  the  title  thou  usurp'st, 
Of  BENEFIT  — ]     Benefit  is  here  a  term  of  law.     Be  content 
to  live  as  the  beneficiary  of  our  king.     Johnson. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  157 

By  our  proceeding  in  hostility : 

And  therefore  take  this  compact  of  a  truce, 

Although  you  break  it  when  your  pleasure  serves. 

[^side,  to  Charles. 
War.  How  say'st  thou,  Charles  ?  shall  our  condi- 
tion stand  ? 
Char.  It  shall ;  only  reserv'd,  you  claim  no  in- 
terest 
In  any  of  our  towns  of  garrison. 

I  ork.  Then  swear  allegiance  to  his  majesty ; 
As  thou  art  knight,  never  to  disobey, 
Nor  be  rebellious  to  the  crown  of  England. 
Thou,  nor  thy  nobles,  to  the  crown  of  England, — 

\_Charles,  and  the  rest,  give  tokens  of  fealty. 
So,  now  dismiss  your  army  when  ye  please  ; 
Hang  up  your  ensigns,  let  your  drums  be  still. 
For  here  we  entertain  a  solemn  peace.        [^E.veimt. 

vSCENE    V. 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry,  in  conference  with  Suffolk; 
Gloster  and  Exeter  folloxoing. 

K.  Hen.  Your  wondrous  rare  description,  noble 
earl. 
Of  beauteous  Margaret  hath  astonish'd  me  : 
Her  virtues,  graced  with  external  gifts. 
Do  breed  love's  settled  passions  in  my  heart: 
And  like  as  rigour  in  tempestuous  gusts 
Provokes  the  mightiest  hulk  against  the  tide  ; 
So  am  I  driven  \  by  breath  of  her  renown, 
Either  to  suffer  shipwreck,  or  arrive 

7  So  am  I  driven,]  This  simile  is  somewhat  obscure  ;  he  seems 
to  mean,  that  as  a  ship  is  driven  against  the  tide  by  the  wind,  so 
he  is  driven  by  love  against  the  current  of  his  interest. 

Johnson. 


158  FIRST  PART  OF  act  r. 

Where  I  may  have  fruition  of  her  love. 

SuF.  Tush  !  my  good  lord  !  this  superficial  tale 
Is  but  a  preface  of  her  worthy  praise  : 
The  chief  perfections  of  that  lovely  dame, 
(Had  I  sufficient  skill  to  utter  them,) 
Would  make  a  volume  of  enticing  lines. 
Able  to  ravish  any  dull  conceit. 
And,  which  is  more,  she  is  not  so  divine. 
So  full  replete  vvith  choice  of  all  delights. 
But,  with  as  humble  lowliness  of  mind. 
She  is  content  to  be  at  your  command  ; 
Command,  I  mean,  of  virtuous  chaste  intents, 
To  love  and  honour  Henry  as  her  lord. 

K.  IlE.y.    And  otherwise  will  Henry  ne'er  pre- 
sume. 
Therefore,  my  lord  protector,  give  consent. 
That  Margaret  maybe  England's  royal  queen. 

Glo.  So  should  1  give  consent  to  flatter  sin. 
You  know,  my  lord,  your  highness  is  betroth'd 
Unto  another  lady  of  esteem ; 
How  shall  we  then  dispense  with  that  contract, 
And  not  deface  your  honour  with  reproach  ? 

SuF.  As  doth  a  ruler  with  unlawful  oaths : 
Or  one,  that,  at  a  triumph  ^  having  vow'd 
To  try  his  strength,  forsaketh  yet  the  lists 
By  reason  of  his  adversary's  odds : 
A  poor  earl's  daughter  is  unequal  odds, 
And  therefore  may  be  broke  without  offence. 

Glo.  Why,  what,  I  pray,  is  Margaret  more  than 
that  ? 


^  —  at  a  triumph  — ]     That  is,  at  the  sports  at  which  a  triumph 
is  celebrated.     Johnson. 

A  triumph,  in  the  age  of  Shakspeare,  signified  a  public  exhibi- 
tion, such  as  a  mask,  a  revel,  &c.     Thus,  in  King  Richard  II.  : 
"  What  news  from  Oxford  ?  hold  those  justs  and  triumphs  ?  " 

Steevens. 
See  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  vol.  v.  p.  17G,  n.5. 

Malone. 

6 


sc.  V.  KING  HENRY  VI.  159 

Her  father  is  no  better  than  an  earl, 
Although  in  glorious  titles  he  excel. 

SuF.  Yes,  my  good  lord  ^,  her  father  is  a  king, 
The  king  of  Naples  and  Jerusalem  ; 
And  of  such  great  authority  in  France, 
As  his  alliance  will  confirm  our  peace. 
And  keep  the  Frenchmen  in  allegiance. 

Glo.  And  so  the  earl  of  Armagnac  may  do. 
Because  he  is  near  kinsman  unto  Charles. 

ExE.    Beside,   his   wealth   doth  warrant  liberal 
dower ; 
While  Reignier  sooner  will  receive,  than  give. 

SuF.  A  dower,  my  lords !   disgrace  not  so  your 
king, 
That  he  should  be  so  abject,  base,  and  poor. 
To  choose  for  wealth,  and  not  for  perfect  love. 
Henry  is  able  to  enrich  his  queen. 
And  not  to  seek  a  queen  to  make  him  rich : 
So  worthless  peasants  bargain  for  their  wives. 
As  market-men  for  oxen,  sheep,  or  horse. 
Marriage  is  a  matter  of  more  worth. 
Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyship  ^ ; 
Not  whom  we  will,  but  whom  his  grace  affects. 
Must  be  companion  of  his  nuptial  bed : 
And  therefore,  lords,  since  he  affects  her  most. 
It  most  -  of  all  these  reasons  bindeth  us. 
In  our  opinions  she  should  be  preferred. 

9  —  my  GOOD  lord,]     Good,  which  is  not  in  the  old  copy,  was 
added  for  the  sake  of  the  metre,  in  the  second  folio.     Malone. 

'  — by  attorneyship  ;]     By  the  intervention  of  another  man's 
choice  ;  or  the  discretional  agency  of  another.     Johnson. 

This  is  a  phrase  of  which  Shakspeare  is  peculiarly  fond.     It  oc- 
curs twice  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  Be  the  attorneij  of  my  love  to  her." 
Again  : 

"  I,  by  attorney,  bless  thee  from  thy  mother." 

Steevens. 
^  It  most — ]     The  word  It,  which  is  wanting  in  the  old  copy, 
was  inserted  bv  Mr.  Rowe,     Malone. 


160  FIRST  PART  OF  act  v. 

For  what  is  wedlock  forced,  but  a  hell. 
An  age  of  discord  and  continual  strife  ? 
Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  bliss  ^, 
And  is  a  pattern  of  celestial  peace. 
Whom  should  we  match,  with  Henry,  being  a  king, 
But  Margaret,  that  is  daughter  to  a  king? 
Her  peerless  feature,  joined  with  her  birth. 
Approves  her  fit  for  none,  but  for  a  king : 
Her  vahant  courage  and  undaunted  spirit, 
(More  than  in  women  commonly  is  seen,) 
Will  answer  our  hope  in  issue  of  a  king'^ ; 
For  Henry,  son  unto  a  conqueror. 
Is  likely  to  beget  more  conquerors. 
If  with  a  lady  of  so  high  resolve. 
As  is  fair  Margaret,  he  be  link'd  in  love. 
Then  yield,  my  lords ;  and  here  conclude  with  me. 
That  Margaret  shall  be  queen,  and  none  but  she. 
K.  Hen.  Whether  it  be  through  force  of  your 
report, 
My  noble  lord  of  Suffolk ;  or  for  that 
My  tender  youth  was  never  yet  attaint 
With  any  passion  of  inflaming  love, 
I  cannot  tell ;  but  this  I  am  assur'd, 
I  feel  such  sharp  dissention  in  my  breast, 

3  Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  forth  bliss,]     The  word — 
forth,  which  is  not  in  the  first  folio,  was  supplied,   I  think,  unne- 
cessarily, by  the  second.     Contrary  was,  I  believe,   used  by  the 
author  as  a  quadrisyllable,  as  if  it  were  written  conterary  ;  accord- 
ing to  which  pronunciation  the  metre  is  not  defective  : 
"  Whereas  the  conterary  bringeth  bliss." 

In  the  same  manner  Shakspeare  frequently  uses  Henry  as  a  tri- 
syllable, and  hour  six\i\  Jire  as  dissyllables.  See  vol.  iv.  p.  31,  and 
p.  137.     Malone. 

I  have  little  confidence  in  this  remark.     Such  a  pronunciation 
of  the  word  contrary  is,  perhaps,  without  example.     Hour  and 
jire  were  anciently  written  as  dissyllables,  viz.  hoxver—jier. 

Steevens. 

*  Will  answer  our  hope  in  issue  of  a  king ;]  The  useless  word 
— -ojir,  which  destroys  the  harmony  of  this  line,  I  suppose  ought  to 
be  omitted.     Steevens. 


sc.  V.  KING  HENRY  VI.  161 

Such  fierce  alarums  both  of  hope  and  fear. 
As  I  am  sick  with  working  of  my  thoughts  ^. 
Take,     therefore,     shipping;     post,    my   lord,    to 

France : 
Agree  to  any  covenants :  and  procure 
That  lady  Margaret  do  vouchsafe  to  come 
To  cross  the  seas  to  England,  and  be  crown'd; 
King  Henry's  faithful  and  anointed  queen  i 
For  your  expences  and  sufficient  charge. 
Among  the  people  gather  up  a  tenth. 
Be  gone,  I  say  ;  for,  till  you  do  return, 
I  rest  perplexed  with  a  thousand  cares. — 
And  you,  good  uncle,  banish  all  offence  : 
If  you  do  censure  me  by  what  you  were  ®, 
Not  what  you  are,  I  know  it  will  excuse 
This  sudden  execution  of  my  will. 
And  so  conduct  me,  where  from  company 
I  may  revolve  and  ruminate  my  griefs  \^Eant, 

Glo.  Ay,  grief,  I  fear  me,  both  at  first  and  last. 

l^E.reimt  Gloster  and  Exeter, 

Sue.  Thus  Suffolk  hath  prevail'd :  and  thus  he 
goes. 
As  did  the  youthful  Paris  once  to  Greece ; 
With  hope  to  find  the  like  event  in  love. 
But  prosper  better  than  the  Trojan  did. 
Margaret  shall  now  be  queen,  and  rule  the  king ; 
But  I  will  rule  both  her,  the  king,  and  realm. 

lEa^t  ^ 

•5  As  I  am  sick  with   working  of   my  thoughts.]     So,  in 
Shakspeare's  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Work,  work  your  thoughts,  and  therein  see  a  siege," 

Malonb- 
^  If  you  do  CENSURE  me,  &c.]     To  censure  is  here  simply  to 
nidge.     "  If  in  judging  me  you  consider  the  past  frailties  of  your 
own  youth."     Johnson. 

7  —  ruminate  my  grief.]     Grief  in  the  first  line  is  taken  ge- 
nerally iov  pain  or  tmeasiness  ;  in  the  second  specially  iov  sorrffu}. 

Johnson, 
*  \Exit^     Of  this  play  there  is  no  copy  earlier  than  that  of  the 
VOL.  XVIII.  M 


♦4162  FIRST  PART  OF  K.  HENRY  VI.       act  v. 

folio  in  1623,  though  the  two  succeeding  parts  are  extant  in  two 
editions  in  quarto.  That  the  second  and  third  parts  were  pub- 
lished without  the  first,  may  be  admitted  as  no  weak  proof  that 
'' the  copies  were  surreptitiously  obtained,  and  that  the  printer  of 
that  time  gave  the  publick  those  plays,  not  such  as  the  author  de- 
signed, but  such  as  they  could  get  them.  That  this  play  was 
written  before  the  two  others  is  indubitably  collected  from  the  se- 
ries of  events  ;  that  it  was  written  and  played  before  Henry  the 
Fifth  is  apparent,  because  in  the  epilogue  there  is  mention  made 
of  this  play,  and  not  of  the  other  parts  : 

"  Henry  the  sixth  in  swaddling  bands  crown'd  king, 
"  Whose  state  so  many  had  the  managing, 
"  That  they  lost  France,  and  made  his  England  bleed  : 
"  Which  oft  our  stage  hath  shown." 

France  is  lost  in  this  play.  The  two  following  contain,  as  the 
old  title  imports,  the  contention  of  the  houses  of  York  and  Lan- 
ca.ster. 

The  second  and  third  parts  of  Henry  VI.  were  printed  in  1600. 
When  Henry  V.  was  written,  we  know  not,  but  it  was  printed  like- 
wise in  1600,  and  therefore  before  the  publication  of  the  first  and 
second  parts.  The  first  part  of  Henry  VI.  had  been  often  shot»n 
on  the  stage,  and  would  certainly  have  appeared  in  its  place,  had 
the  author  been  the  publisher.     Johnson. 

That  the  second  and  third  parts  (as  they  are  now  called)  were 
printed  without  the  first,  is  a  proof,  in  my  apprehension,  that  they 
'were  not  written  by  the  author  of  the  first :  and  the  title  of  The 
'Contention  of  the  Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  being  affixed  to 
the  tv/o  pieces  which  were  printed  in  quarto,  is  a  proof  that 
they  were  a  distinct  vvork,  commencing  where  the  other  ended, 
but'  not  written  at  the  same  time ;  and  that  this  play  was  never 
known  by  the  name  of  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  till 
Heminge  and  Condell  gave  it  that  title  in  their  volume,  to  distin- 
guish it  from  the  two  subsequent  plays  ;  which  being  altered  by 
Shakspeare,  assumed  the  new  titles  of  The  Second  and  Third 
Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  that  they  might  not  be  confounded  with 
the  original  pieces  on  which  they  were  formed.  This  first  part 
was,  I  conceive,  originally  called  The  Historical  Play  of  King 
Henry  VI.     See  the  Essay  at  the  end  of  these  contested  pieces. 

Malone. 


KING    HENRY    VI. 


PART  II. 


M  2 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


This  and  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  contain  that  trou- 
blesome period  of  this  prince's  reign  which  took  in  the  whole  con- 
tention betwixt  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster  :  and  under  that 
title  were  these  two  plays  first  acted  and  published.  The  present 
scene  opens  with  King  Henry's  marriage,  which  was  in  the  twenty- 
third  year  of  his  reign  [A.  D.  14-^5  :]  and  closes  with  the  first  bat- 
tle fought  at  St.  Alban's,  and  won  by  the  York  faction,  in  the  thirty- 
third  year  of  his  reign  [A.  D.  1455]  :  so  that  it  comprizes  the  his- 
tory and  transactions  of  ten  years.     Theobald. 

This  play  was  altered  by  Crowne,  and  acted  in  the  year  1681. 

Steevens. 

In  a  note  prefixed  to  the  preceding  play,  I  have  briefly  stated  my 
opinion  concerning  the  drama  now  before  us,  and  that  which  fol- 
lows it ;  to  which  the  original  editors  of  Shakspeare's  works  in  folio 
have  given  the  titles  of  The  Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King 
Henry  VI. 

The  Contention  of  the  Two  Famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lan- 
caster in  two  parts,  was  published  in  quarto,  the  first  part  in  1594, 
the  second  in  1595,  and  both  were  reprinted  in  1600.  On  these 
two  plays,  which  I  believe  to  have  been  written  by  some  preceding 
author,  before  the  year  1590,  Shakspeare  formed,  as  I  conceive, 
this  and  the  following  drama  ;  altering,  retrenching,  or  amplifying, 
as  he  thought  proper.  The  reasons  on  which  this  hypothesis  is 
founded,  I  shall  subjoin  at  large  at  the  end  of  The  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  At  present  it  is  only  necessary  to  apprize  the 
reader  of  the  method  observed  in  the  printing  of  these  plays.  All 
the  lines  printed  in  the  usual  manner,  are  found  in  the  original 
quarto  plays  (or  at  least  vvith  such  minute  variations  as  are  not 
worth  noticing):  and  those,  I  conceive,  Shakspeare  adopted  as  he 
found  them.  The  lines  to  which  inverted  commas  are  prefixed, 
were,  if  my  hypothesis  be  well  founded,  retouched,  and  greatly  im- 
proved by  him  ;  and  those  with  asterisks  were  his  own  original 
production  ;  the  embroidery  with  whicli  he  ornamented  the  coarse 
stuff  that  had  been  aukwardly  made  up  for  the  stage  by  some  of 
his  contemporaries.  The  speeches  which  he  new-modelled,  he 
improved,  sometimes  by  amplification,  and  sometimes  by  retrench- 
ment. 

Dr.  Johnson  observes  very  justly,  p.  167,  that  these  two  parts  were 
T\otwntten\\\thouta  dependance  on  the  first.  Undoubtedly  not;  the 
old  play  of  King  Henry  VI.  (or,  as  it  is  now  called,  The  First  Part,) 
certainly  had  been  exhibited  before  these  were  written  in  antf 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  165 

form.  But  it  does  not  follow  from  this  concession,  either  that 
The  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &c.  in  two  parts,  was  written 
by  the  author  of  the  former  play,  or  that  Shakspeare  was  the 
author  of  these  two  pieces  as  they  originally  appeared. 

M  ALONE. 

As  Mr.  Malone  varied  in  his  opinion  as  to  the  period  at  which 
these  plays  were  altered  by  Shakspeare,  I  have  reserved  what  is 
said  upon  that  topic  for  the  conclusion  of  his  Dissertation,  as  the 
reader  will  there  find  the  reasons  upon  which  his  first  conjecture 
was  founded,  and  will  from  thence  be  better  able  to  judge  how 
far  his  departure  from  it  was  an  improvement.     Boswell. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


King  Henry  the  Sixth  : 

Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloster,  his  Uncle. 

Cardinal  Beaufort,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  great 
Uncle  to  the  King. 

Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York. 

Eda\^ard  and  Richard,  his  Sons. 

Duke  of  Somerset, 

Duke  of  Suffolk, 

Duke  of  Buckingham,     }>of  the  Kings  Party. 

Lord  Clifford,  I 

Young  Clifford,  his  Son,  J 

Earl  of  Salisbury,  ")    ^  ,,     ^r    ^  t^ 

Earl  of  Warwick,  |  °^  ^^^  ^^^^  Faction. 

Lord  Scales,  Governour  of  the  Tower.  Lord  Say. 

Sir  Humphrey  Stafford,  and  his  Brother. 

Sir  John  Stanley. 

A  Sea-captain,  Master,  and  Master's  Mate  and 
Walter  Whitmore. 

Two  Gentlemen,  Prisoners  with  Suffolk. 

A  Herald.     Vaux. 

Hume  and  Southwell,  Two  Priests. 

BoLTNGBROKE,  a  Conjurer.     A  Spirit  raised  by  him. 

Thojnias  Horner,  an  Armourer.   Peter,  his  Man. 

Clerk  of  Chatham.     Mayor  of  Saint  Alban's. 

SiMPcox,  an  Impostor.     Two  Murderers. 

Jack  Cade,  a  Rebel : 

George,  John,  Dick,  Smith,  the  Weaver,  Mi- 
chael, &c.  his  Followers. 

Alexander  Iden,  a  Kentish  Gentleman. 

Margaret,  Queen  to  King  Henry. 

Eleanor,  Duchess  of  Gloster. 

Margery  Jourdain,  a  Witch.     Wife  to  Simpcox. 

Lords,  Ladies,  and  Attendants ;  Petitioners,  Alder- 
men, a  Beadle,  Sheriff',  and  Officers;  Citizens, 
Prentices,  Falconers,  Guards,  Soldiers,  Messen- 
gers, &c. 

SCENE,  dispersedly  in  various  Parts  of  England, 


i» 


SECOND  PART  OF  ''^' 

KING    HENRY    VI.        * 


5J 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 

London.     A  Room  of  State  in  the  Palace. 

Flourish  of  Trumpets :  then  Hautboys.     Enter,  on\ 
one  sick.  King  Henry,  Duke  of  Gloster,  Salis-  ' 
BURY,  TKiRTricK,  and  Cardinal  Beaufort;  on  the  ' 
other.  Queen  Margaret,  led  in  by  Suffolk;  York, 
Somerset,  Buckingham,  and  Others,  folloiving. 

SuF.  As  by  your  high  "^  imperial  majesty 
I  had  in  charge  at  my  depart  for  France, 
As  procurator  to  your  excellence  ^ 
To  marry  princess  Margaret  for  your  grace  ; 
So,  in  the  famous  ancient  city.  Tours, —  ^ 

'  As  by  your  high,  &c.]  Vide  Hall's  Chronicle,  fol.  QQ,  year 
23,  init.     Pope. 

It  is  apparent  that  this  play  begins  where  the  former  ends,  and 
continues  the  series  of  transactions  of  which  it  presupposes  the 
first  part  already  known.  This  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  the  second 
and  third  parts  were  not  written  without  dependance  on  the  first, 
though  they  were  printed  as  containing  a  complete  period  of  his- 
tory.    Johnson. 

*  As  procurator  to  your  excellence,  &,c.]  So,  in  Holinshed, 
p.  625  :  "  The  marquesse  of  Suftblk,  as  procurator  to  King  Hen- 
rie,  espoused  the  said  ladie  in  the  church  of  Saint  Martins.  At 
the  which  marriage  were  present  the  father  and  mother  of  th€; 
bride ;  the  French  king  himself  that  was  uncle  to  the  husband, 
and  the  French  queen  also  that  was  aunt  to  the  wife.  There  were 
also  the  dukes  of  Orleance,  of  Calabre,  of  Alanson,  and  of 
Britaine,  seaven  earles,  twelve  barons,  twenty  bishops,"  &c.        ,: 

Steevens. 

This  passage  Holinshed  transcribed  verbatim  from  Hall.  ♦ 

Malone.       ; 


168  SECOND  PART  OF  act i. 

In  presence  of  the  kings  of  France  and  Sicil, 

The    dukes   of  Orleans,    Calaber,   Bretaigne,  and 

Alen9on, 
'  Seven  earls,  twelve  barons,  twenty  reverend  bi- 
shops,— 

*  I  have  performed  my  task,  and  was  espous'd : 
'  And  humbly  now  upon  my  bended  knee, 

In  sight  of  England  and  her  lordly  -j-  peers. 
Deliver  up  my  title  in  the  queen 
To  your  most  gracious  hands,  that  are  ^  the  sub- 
stance 
Of  that  great  shadow  I  did  represent ; 
The  happiest  gift  that  ever  marquess  gave. 
The  fairest  queen  that  ever  king  receiv'd. 

*  K.  Hex.  Suffolk,  arise. — Welcome,  queen  Mar- 

garet : 
'  I  can  express  no  kinder  sign  of  love, 

*  Than  this  kind  kiss. — O  Lord,  that  lends  me  life, 

*  Lend  me  a  heart  replete  with  thankfulness  ! 

*  For  thou  hast  given  me,  in  this  beauteous  face, 

*  A  world  of  earthly  blessings  to  my  soul, 

*  If  sympathy  of  love  unite  our  thoughts. 

*  Q.  M.^R.  Great  king  of  England,  and  my  gra- 

cious lord ; 
''  The  mutual  conference  '*  that  my  mind  hath  had — 
'  By  day,  by  night ;  waking,  and  in  my  dreams ; 
'  In  courtly  company,  or  at  my  beads, — 
'  With  you  mine  alder-liefest  sovereign  ^, 

t  Quarto,  royal. 

3— that  arc — ]     i.e.  to  the   gracious  hands  of  you,  my  so- 
vereign, who  are,  &c.     In  the  old  play  the  lino  stands  : 
"  Unto  your  gracious  excellence  that  are,'  &c. 

Malone. 
*  The  mutual  conference — ]      I  am  the  bolder  to  address  you, 
having  already  familiarized  you  to  my  imagination.     Johnson, 

5  — mine  ALDER-LIEFEST  sovereign,]  Alder-lievest  is  an  old 
English  word  given  to  him  to  whom  the  speaker  is  supremely  at- 
tached :  lievest  being  the  superlative  of  the  comparative  hvar. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  169 

'  Makes  me  the  bolder  to  salute  my  king 

*  With  ruder  terms  ;  such  as  my  wit  affords, 

*  And  over-joy  of  heart  doth  minister. 

*  X.  Hen.  Her  sight  did  ravish :  but  her  grace 
in  speech, 

*  Her  words  y-clad  with  wisdom's  majesty, 

*  Makes  me,  from  wondering  fall  to  weeping  joys  ^  ; 

*  Such  is  the  fulness  of  my  heart's  content. 

'  Lords,  with  one  cheerful  voice  welcome  my  love. 

rather,  from  lief.  So,  Hall  in  his  Chronicle,  Henry  VI.  folio  12  : 
"  Ryght  hyghe  and  mighty  prince,  and  my  ryght  noble,  and, 
after  one,  levest  lord."     Warburton. 

Alder-Iiefest  is  a  corruption  of  the  German  word  aJer-Iicbste, 
beloved  above  all  things,  dearest  of  all. 

The  word  is  used  by  Chaucer  ;  and  is  put  by  Marston  into  the 
mouth  of  his  Dutch  courtesan  : 

"  O  mine  alder-liefcst  love." 
Again  : 

"■         pretty  sweetheart  of  mine  alder-liefest  affection. " 
Again,  in  Gascoigne : 

"  and  to  mine  alder-Iievest  lord  I  must  indite." 

See  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  (ilossary  to  Chaucer.     Leve  or  lej'e.  Sax. 
dear  ;   Alder  or  Allcr,  gen.  ca.  pi.  of  all.     Steevens. 

^  Makes  me,  from  wondering,  fall  to  weeping  joys;]  This 
xveeping  joy,  of  which  there  is  no  trace  in  the  original  play, 
Shakspeare  was  extremely  fond  of;  having  introduced  it  in  Much 
Ado  About  Nothing,  King  Richard  II.  Macbeth,  and  King  Lear. 
This  and  the  preceding  speech  stand  thus  in  the  original  play  in 
<]uarto.  I  transcribe  them,  that  the  reader  may  be  the  better 
able  to  judge  concerning  my  hypothesis  ;  and  shall  quote  a  few 
other  passages  for  the  same  purpose.  To  exhibit  all  the  speeches 
that  Shakspeare  has  altered,  would  be  almost  to  print  the  two 
plays  twice  : 

"  Queen.  The  excessive  love  I  bear  unto  your  grace, 
"  Forbids  me  to  be  lavish  of  my  tongue, 
"  Lest  I  should  speake  more  than  beseems  a  woman. 
"  Let  this  suffice  ;   my  bliss  is  in  your  liking  ; 
"  And  nothing  can  make  poor  Margaret  miserable 
"  Unless  the  frowne  of  mightie  England's  king. 

"  Eng.  King.  Herlookes  did  wound,  but  now  her  speech 
doth  pierce. 
"  Lovely  queen  Margaret,  sit  down  by  my  side ; 
^'  And  uncle  Gloster,  and  you  lordly  peeres, 
*'  With  one  voice  welcome  my  beloved  queen."     Malone. 


170  SECOND  PART  OF  .vtr/. 

All.  Long  live  queen  Margaret,  England's  hap- 
piness ! 

Q.  Mar.  We  thank  you  all.  {Flourish. 

SuF.  My  lord  protector,  so  it  please  your  grace. 
Here  are  the  articles  of  contracted  peace, 
Between  our  sovereign,  and  the  French  king  Charles, 

*  For  eighteen  months  concluded  by  consent. 

Glo.  \_Reads?\^  Imprimis,  It  is  agreed  heticeen 
the  French  king,  Charles,  and  JVilliayn  de  la  Poole, 
marquess  of  Suffolk,  ambassador  for  Henry  king  of 
England, — that  the  said  Henry  shall  espouse  the 
lady  Margaret,  daughter  unto  Reigtiier  king  of  Na- 
ples, Sicilia,  and  Jerusalem  ;  and  crown  her  queen  of 

England  ere  the  thirtieth  of  May  next  ensuing. 

Item, — That  the  dutchy  of  Anjou  and  the  county  of 
Maine^,  shall  be  released  and  aeUvered  to  the  king 
her  father 

*  K.  Hex.  Uncle,  how  now  ? 

'  Glo.  Pardon  me,  gracious  lord  ; 

'  Some  sudden  qualm  hath  struck  me  at  the  heart, 

*  And  dimmd  mine  eyes,  that  I  can  read  no  further. 

K.  Hen.  Uncle  of  Winchester,  I  pray,  read  on. 

JVix.  Item, — It  is  further  agreed  between  them, 
— that  the  dutchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine  shall  be  re- 
leased and  deircei^ed  over  to  the  king  her  father  ; 
and  she  sent  over  of  the  king  of  England's  ozvn  pro- 
per cost  and  charges,  without  having  dowry. 

^  — and  the  county  (/  Maine,']  So  the  chronicles;  yet 
when  the  Cardinal  afterwards  reads  this  article,  he  says :  "  It  is 
further  agreed— that  the  dutchies  of  Anjoy  and  Maine  shall  be 
released  and  delivered  over;'  8ic.  But  the  words  in  the  instru- 
ment could  not  thus  vary,  whilst  it  was  passing-  from  the  hands 
of  the  Duke  to  those  of  the  Cardinal.  For  the  inaccuracy  Shak- 
speare  must  answer,  the  author  of  the  original  play  not 'having 
been  guilty  of  it.  This  kind  of  inaccuracy  is,  I  believe,  peculiar 
to  our  poet ;  for  I  have  never  met  with  any  thing  similar  in  any 
other  writer.  He  has  again  fallen  into  the  same  impropriety  in 
All's  Well  That  Ends  Well.     Malowe. 


sc.  J.  KING  HENRY  VI.  171 

K.  Hen.  They  please  us  well. — Lord  marquess, 
kneel  down  ; 
We  here  create  thee  the  first  duke  of  vSuffolk, 
And  girt  thee  with  the  sword. — 
Cousin  of  York,  we  here  discharge  your  grace 
From  being  regent  in  the  parts  of  France, 
Till  term  of  eighteen  months  be  full  expir'd. — 
Thanks,  uncle  Winchester,  Gloster,  York,  and  Buck- 
ingham, 
Somerset,  Salisbury,  and  Warwick ; 
We  thank  you  all  for  this  great  favour  done. 
In  entertainment  to  my  princely  queen. 
Come,  let  us  in  ;  and  with  all  speed  provide 
To  see  her  coronation  be  perform'd. 

[^E^veunt  King,  Queen,  and  Suffolk. 

Glo.  Brave  peers  of  England,  pillars  of  the  state, 

*  To  you  duke  Humphrey  must  unload  his  grief, 

*  Your  grief,  the  common  grief  of  all  the  land. 

*  What !  did  my  brother  Henry  spend  his  youth, 

*  His  valour,  coin,  and  people,  in  the  wars  ? 

*  Did  he  so  often  lodge  in  open  field, 

*  In  winter  s  cold,  and  summer's  parching  heat, 

*  To  conquer  France,  his  true  inheritance  ? 

*  And  did  my  brother  Bedford  toil  his  wits, 

*  To  keep  by  policy  what  Henry  got  ? 

*  Have  you  yourselves,  Somerset,  Buckingham, 

*  Brave  York,  Salisbury,  and  victorious  Warwick, 

*  Receiv'd  deep  scars  in  France  and  Normandy  ? 

*  Or  hath  my  uncle  Beaufort,  and  myself, 

*  With  all  the  learned  council  of  the  realm, 

*  Studied  so  long,  sat  in  the  council-house, 

*  Early  and  late,  debating  to  and  fro 

*  How  France  and  Frenchmen  might  be  kept  in  awe  ? 

*  And  hath  his  highness  in  his  infancy 

*  Been  crown'd  ^  in  Paris,  in  despite  of  foes  ? 

*  And  shall  these  labours,  and  these  honours,  die  ? 

'  Been   crown'd — ]     The  word  Been  was  supplied   by  Mr. 
-Steevens.     Malone. 


172  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

'  Shall  Henry's  conquest,  Bedford's  vigilance, 

*  Your  deeds  of  war,  and  all  our  counsel,  die  ? 

*  O  peers  of  England,  shameful  is  this  league  ! 

*  Fatal  this  marriage,  cancelling  your  fame  ; 

*  Blotting  your  names  from  books  of  memory: 

*  Razing  the  characters  of  your  renown  ; 

*  Defacing  monuments  of  conquer'd  France; 

*  Undoing  all,  as  all  had  never  been  ! 

*  Car.  Nephew,  what  means  this  passionate  dis- 

course ? 

*  This  peroration  with  such  circumstance  ^  ? 

*  For  France,  'tis  ours  ;  and  we  will  keep  it  still. 

*  Glo.  Ay,  uncle,  we  v/ill  keep  it,  if  we  can  ; 

*  But  now  it  is  impossible  we  should  ; 
Suffolk,  the  new-made  duke  that  rules  the  roast, 

*  Hath  given  the  dutchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine 

*  Unto  the  poor  king  Reignier,  whose  large  style 

*  Agrees  not  with  the  leanness  of  his  purse  '\ 

*  Sal.  Now,   by  the  death  of  him  that  died  for 

all, 

*  These  counties  were  the  keys  of  Normandy  : — 
But  wherefore  weeps  Warwick,  my  valiant  son  ? 

'  War.  For  grief,  that  they  are  past  recovery  : 

*  For,  were  there  hope  to  conquer  them  again, 

'  My  sword  should  shed  hot  blood,  mine  eyes  no 

tears. 
'  Anjou  and  Maine !  myself  did  win  them  both  ; 

*  Those  provinces  these  arms  of  mine  did  conquer : 

*  And  are  the  cities ',  that  I  got  with  wounds, 


^  This    peroration    wiili    such    circumstance  ?]      This    speech 
crouded  with  so  m:iny  instances  of  aggravation.     Johnson. 

"^ whose  large  style 

Agrees  not  with  the  leanness  of  his  purse.]  So  Holinshed  : 
"  King  Keigncr  hir  father,  for  all  his  long  stile,  had  too  short  a 
purscio  send  his  daughter  honourably  to  the  king  hir  spowse." 

Malonk. 

'  And  are  the  cities,  &c.]  The  indignation  of  Warwick  is  na- 
tural, and  I  wish  it  had  been  better  expressed  ;  there  is  a  kind  of 
jingle  intended  in  tvouiids  and  iion/s.     Johnson. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  173 

*  Deliver'd  up  again  with  peaceful  words  ? 

*  Mort  Dieu ! 

*  York.  For  Suftblk's  duke — may  he  be  suffocate, 

*  That  dims  the  honour  of  this  warlike  isle  I 

*  France  should  have  torn  and  rent  my  very  heart, 

*  Before  I  would  have  yielded  to  this  league. 

*  I  never  read  but  England's  kings  have  had 

*  Large  sums  of  gold,  and  dowries,  with  their  wives: 

*  And  our  king  Henry  gives  away  his  own, 

*  To  match  with  her  that  brings  no  vantages. 

*  Glo.  a  proper  jest,  and  never  heard  before, 

*  That  Suffolk  should  demand  a  whole  fifteenth, 

*  For  costs  and  charges  in  transporting  her  ! 

*  She  should  have  staid  in  France,  and  starv'd  in 

France, 

*  Before 

*  C^iR.  My  lord   of  Gloster,  now  you  grow  too 

hot; 

*  It  was  the  pleasure  of  my  lord  the  king. 

*  Glo.  My  lord  of  Winchester,    I    know   your 

mind ; 

*  'Tis  not  my  speeches  that  you  do  mislike, 

*  But  'tis  my  presence  that  doth  trouble  you. 

*  Rancour  will  out ;   Proud  prelate,  in  thy  face 
'  I  see  thy  fury :  if  I  longer  stay, 

*  We  shall  begin  our  ancient  bickerings  ". — 

* 

In  the  old  play  the  jingle  is  different.     "And  must  that  then 
which  we  won  with  our  swords,  be  given  away  with  ivords  ?  " 

Malo^^e. 
-  —  bickerings.]  To  bicker  is  to  skirmish.  In  the  ancient 
metrical  romance  of  (iuy  Earl  of  Warwick,  bl.  1.  no  date,  the 
heroes  consult  whether  they  should  bicker  on  the  walls,  or  descend 
to  battle  on  the  plain.  Again,  in  the  genuine  ballad  of  Chevy- 
Chace  : 

"  Bomen  bickarle  upon  the  bent 
"  With  their  browd  aras  cleare." 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Polyolbion,  Song  9  : 

"  From  bickering  with  his  folk  to  keep  us  Britains  back." 
Again,  in  The  Spanish  Masquerade,  by  Greene,  1589 :  "  —  sun- 


174  SECOND  PART  OF  ^cT  i. 

Lordings,  farewell ;  and  say,  when  I  am  gone, 

I  prophesied — France  will  be  lost  ere  long.     \^Exit, 

Car.  So,  there  goes  our  protector  in  a  rage. 
Tis  known  to  yon,  he  is  mine  enemy  : 

*  Nay,  more,  an  enemy  unto  you  all ; 

*  And  no  great  friend,  I  fear  me,  to  the  king. 

*  Consider,  lords,  he  is  the  next  of  blood, 

*  And  heir  apparent  to  the  English  crown  ; 

*  Had  Henry  got  an  empire  by  his  marriage, 

*  And  all  the  wealthy  kingdoms  of  the  west  ^ 
*■  There's  reason  he  should  be  displeas'd  at  it. 

*  Look  to  it,  lords  ;  let  not  his  smoothing  words 

*  Bewitch  your  hearts ;  be  wise,  and  circumspect. 

*  What  though  the  common  people  favour  him, 

*  Calling  him — Humphrey  the  good  Duke  ofGloster; 
'  Clapping  their  hands,  and  crying  with  loud  voice — 

*  Jesu  maintain  your  royal  e.vcellence  ! 

*  With — God presej^ve  the  good  duke  Humphrey  ! 
'  I  fear  me,  lords,  for  all  this  flattering  gloss, 

*  He  will  be  found  a  dangerous  protector. 

*  Buck.  "Why  should  he  then  protect  our  sove- 
reign, 

*  He  being  of  age  to  govern  of  himself .? — 

*  Cousin  of  Somerset,  join  you  with  me, 

*  And  all  together — with  the  duke  of  Suffolk, — 

'  We'll  quickly  hoise  duke  Humphrey  from  his  seat. 

dry  times  bickered  with  our  men,  and  gave  them  the  foyle.'* 
Again,  in  Holinshed,  p.  537  :  "  At  another  bickering  also  it 
chanced  that  the  Englishmen  had  the  upper  hand."  Again, 
p.  572 :  "  At  first  there  was  a  sharp  bickering  betwixt  them,  but 
in  the  end  victorie  remained  with  the  Englishmen."  Levi piigna 
congredior,  is  the  expression  by  which  Barrett  in  his  Alvearie,  or 
Quadruple  Dictionary,  1580,  explains  the  word  to  bicker. 

Steevens. 

3  And  all  the  wealthy  kingdoms  of  the  west,]  Certainly  Shak- 
speare  wrote — east.     Warburton. 

There  are  wealthy  kingdoms  in  the  xvest  as  well  as  in  the  east^ 
and  the  western  kingdoms  were  more  likely  to  be  in  the  thought 
of  the  speaker.     Johnson. 


,sc.  I,  KING  HENRY  VI.  173 

*  C.iR.  This  weighty  business  will  not  brook  de- 

lay; 

*  I'll  to  the  duke  of  Suffolk  presently.  \Exit^ 

*  SoM.    Cousin   of  Buckingham,    though  Hum- 

phrey's pride, 

*  And  greatness  of  his  place  be  grief  to  us, 
'  Yet  let  us  watch  the  haughty  cardinal ; 

*  His  insolence  is  more  intolerable 

*  Than  all  the  princes  in  the  land  beside  ; 

*  If  Gloster  be  displac'd,  he'll  be  protector. 

Buck.  Or  thou,  or  I,  Somerset  will  be  protector, 

*  Despight  duke  Humphrey,  or  the  cardinal. 

\_Ei'eimt  Buckingham  and  Somerset* 
Sal.  Pride  went  before,  ambition  follows  him  *. 

*  While  these  do  labour  for  their  own  preferment, 

*  Behoves  it  us  to  labour  for  the  realm. 

*  I  never  saw  but  Humphrey  duke  of  Gloster 

*  Did  bear  him  like  a  noble  gentleman. 

*  Oft  have  I  seen  the  haughty  cardinal — 

*  More  like  a  soldier,  than  a  man  o'  the  church, 

*  As  stout,  and  proud,  as  he  were  lord  of  all, — 

*  Swear  like  a  ruffian,  and  demean  himself 

*  Unlike  the  ruler  of  a  common-weal. — 

'  Warwick,  my  son,  the  comfort  of  my  age ! 

*  Thy  deeds,  thy  plainness,  and  thy  house-keeping, 

*  Hath  won  the  greatest  favour  of  the  commons, 

*  Excepting  none  but  good  duke  Humphrey. — 

*  And,  brother  York  ^,  thy  acts  in  Ireland, 

*  Pride  went  before,  ambition  follows  him.]  Perhaps  in  this 
line  there  is  somewhat  of  proverbial ity.  Thus,  in  A.  of  Wyn- 
town's  Cvonykil,  book  viii.  ch.  xxvii.  v.  177 : 

'*  Awld  men  in  thare  prowerbe  sayis, 
"  Pn/de  gays  befor,  and  schame  alwayis 
"  FoUowi/s,"  &c.     Steevens. 
So,  in  Proverbs,  xvi.  18  :  "  Pride  goeth  before  destruction, 
and  an  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall."     Harris. 

5  And,  brother  York,]  Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York, 
married  Cicely,  the  daughter  of  Ralf  Nevil,  Earl  of  Westmore- 
land, by  Joan,  daughter  to  John  of  Gaunt,   Duke  of  Lancaster, 


176  SECOND  PART  OF  act  u 

*  In  bringing  them  to  civil  discipline  ^ ; 

*  Thy  late  exploits,  done  in  the  heart  of  France, 

*  When  thou  wert  regent  for  our  sovereign, 

*  Have  made  thee  fear'd,  and  honour'd,  of  the  peo- 

ple:— 
'  Join  we  together,  for  the  publick  good  ; 

*  In  what  we  can  to  bridle  and  suppress 

*  The  pride  of  Suffolk,  and  the  cardinal, 

*  With  Somerset's  and  Buckingham's  ambition  ; 

*  And,  as  we  may,  cherish  duke  Humphrey's  deeds', 

*  While  they  do  tend  the  profit  of  the  land '. 

*  JVar.  So  God  help  Warwick,  as  he  loves  the 

land, 

*  And  common  profit  of  his  country  ! 

*  York.  And  so  says  York,  for  he  hath  greatest 

cause. 
'  Sal.    Then  let's    make  haste  away,  and  look 
unto  the  main  ^. 


by  his  third  wife,  dame  Catharine  Swinford.  Richard  Nevil, 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  was  son  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  by  a 
second  wife.  He  married  Alice,  the  only  daughter  of  Thomas 
Montacute,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  who  was  killed  at  the  siege  of 
Orleans  [See  this  play,  Part  I.  Act  I.  Sc.  III.]  ;  and  in  conse- 
quence of  that  alliance  obtained  the  title  of  Salisbury  in  14-28. 
His  eldest  son  Richard,  having  married  the  sister  and  heir  of 
Henry  Beauchamp  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  created  Earl  of  War- 
wick in  1419.     Malone. 

6  — to  civil  discipline;]  This  is  an  anachronism.  The  pre- 
sent scene  is  in  H^S,  but  Richard  Duke  of  York  was  not  viceroy 
of  Ireland  till  \\\Q.     Malone. 

7 — THE  profit  of  the  land.]  I  think  we  might  read,  more 
clearly — to  profit  of  the  land — i.e.  to  profit  themselves  by  it; 
unless  'tend  be  written  for  attend,  as  in  King  Richard  II. : 

"  They  tend  the  crowne,  yet  still  with  me  they  stay." 

Steevens. 

Perhaps  tend  has  here  the  same  meaning  as  tender  in  the  sub- 
sequent scene  : 

"  I  tender  so  the  safety  of  my  liege." 

Or  it  may  have  been  put  for  intend  ;  while  they  have  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  commonwealth  as  their  object.     Malone. 

'  Then  let's,  &c.]     The  quarto — without  such  redundancy— 


sc.  7.  KING  HENRY  VI.  177 

fV^R.   Unto  the  main  !  O  father,  Maine  is  lost ; 

*  That  Maine,  which  by  main  force  Warwick  did  win, 

*  And  would  have  kept,  so  long  as  breath  did  last : 
Main  chance,  father,   you   meant ;    but  I   meant 

Maine ; 
Which  I  will  win  from  France,  or  else  be  slain. 

\_Exeunt  Wartfick  and  Salisbury, 
York.  Anjou  and  Maine  are  given  to  the  French. 

*  Paris  is  lost ;  the  state  of  Normandy 

^  Stands  on  a  tickle  point  ^,  now  they  are  gone  : 

*  Suffolk  concluded  on  the  articles ; 

*  The  peers  agreed  ;  and  Henry  was  well  pleas'd, 

*  To  change  two  dukedoms  for  a  duke's  fair  daugh- 

ter. 

*  I  cannot  blame  them  all ;  What  is't  to  them, 
^  'Tis  thine  they  give  away,  and  not  their  own. 

*  Pirates  may  take  cheap    pennyworths   of  their 

pillage, 

*  And  purchase  friends,  and  give  to  courtezans, 

*  Still  revelling,  like  lords,  till  all  be  gone  : 

*  While  as  the  silly  owner  of  the  goods 

*  Weeps  over  them,  and  wrings  his  hapless  hands, 

*  And  shakes  his  head,  and  trembling  stands  aloof, 

*  While  all  is  shard,  and  all  is  borne  away ; 

*  Ready  to  starve,  and  dare  not  touch  his  own. 

*  So  York  must  sit,  and  fret,  and  bite  his  tongue, 

*  While  his  own  lands  are  bargain'd  for,  and  sold. 


"  Come,  sonnes,  away,  and  looke  unto  the  maine." 

Steevens. 
g  —  on  a  TICKLE  point,]      Tickle  is  very  frequently  used  for 
ticklish  by  poets  contemporary  with  Shakspeare.     So,  Heyvvood  in 
his  Epigrams  on  Proverbs,  1562: 

"  Time  is  tickell,  we  may  matche  time  in  this, 
"  For  be  even  as  tickell  as  time  is." 
Again,  in  Jeronymo,  1605  : 

"  Now  stands  our  fortune  on  a  tickle  point." 
Again,  in  Soliman  and  Perseda,  1599 : 

"  The  rest  by  turning  of  my  tickle  wheel."     Steevens. 
VOL.  XVIII.  N 


178  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  Methinks,  the  realms  of  England,  France,  and 

Ireland, 

*  Bear  that  proportion  to  my  flesh  and  blood, 

*  As  did  the  fatal  brand  Althea  burn'd, 

*  Unto  the  prince's  heart  of  Calydon  \ 
Anjoii  and  Maine,  both  given  unto  the  French ! 
Cold  news  for  me ;  for  1  had  hope  of  France, 
Even  as  I  have  of  fertile  England's  soil. 

A  day  will  come,  when  York  shall  claim  his  own ; 
And  therefore  I  will  take  the  Nevils'  parts. 
And  make  a  show  of  love  to  proud  duke  Hum- 
phrey, 
And,  when  I  spy  advantage,  claim  the  crown. 
For  that's  the  golden  mark  I  seek  to  hit : 
Nor  shall  proud  Lancaster  usurp  my  right. 
Nor  hold  the  scepter  in  his  childish  fist. 
Nor  wear  the  diadem  upon  his  head. 
Whose  church-like  humours  fit  not  for  a  crown. 
Then,  York,  be  still  awhile,  till  time  do  serve : 
Watch  thou,  and  wake,  when  others  be  asleep. 
To  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  state ; 
Till  Henry,  surfeiting  in  joys  of  love. 
With  his  new  bride,    and  England  s  dear-bought 

queen. 
And  Humphrey  with  the  peers  be  fall'n  at  jars : 
Then  will  I  raise  aloft  the  milk-white  rose, 
With  whose  sweet  smell  the  air  shall  be  perfum'd  ; 
And  in  my  standard  bear  the  arms  of  York, 
To  grapple  with  the  house  of  Lancaster ; 
And,  force  perforce,  I'll  make  him  yield  the  crown. 
Whose  bookish  rule  hath  pull'd  fair  England  down. 

'  — the  prince's  heart  of  Calydon.]     Meleager.     Steevens. 

According  to  the  fable,  Meleager's  life  was  to  continue  only 
so  long  as  a  certain  firebrand  should  last.  His  mother  Althea 
having  thrown  it  into  the  fire,  he  expired  in  great  torments. 

Malone. 


sc.  n.  KING  HENRY  VI.  179 


SCENE   II. 

The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Duke  of  Glosteh's 

House. 

Enter  Gloster  and  the  Duchess. 

DucH.  Why  droops  my  lord,   hke  over-ripen'd 
corn, 
Hanging  the  head  at  Ceres'  plenteous  load  ? 

*  Why  doth  the  great  duke  Humphrey  knit   his 

brows, 

*  As  frowning  at  the  favours  of  the  world  ? 

*  Why  are  thine  eyes  fix'd  to  the  sullen  earth, 

*  Gazing  on  that  which  seems  to  dim  thy  sight  ? 
'  What  see'st  thou  there  ?  king  Henry's  diadem, 

*  Enchas'd  with  all  the  honours  of  the  world  ? 

*  If  so,  gaze  on,  and  grovel  on  thy  face, 

*  Until  thy  head  be  circled  with  the  same. 

*  Put  forth  thy  hand,  reach  at  the  glorious  gold : — 

*  What,  is't  too  short  ?  I'll  lengthen  it  with  mine : 

*  And,  having  both  together  heav'd  it  up, 

*  We'll  both  together  Hft  our  heads  to  heaven  ; 

*  And  never  more  abase  our  sight  so  low, 

*  As  to  vouchsafe  one  glance  unto  the  ground. 

'  Glo.  O  Nell,  sweet  Nell,  if  thou  dost  love  thy 
lord, 

*  Banish  the  canker  of  ambitious  thoughts  ' : 

*  And  may  that  thought,  when  I  imagine  ill 

*  Against  my  king  and  nephew,  virtuous  Henry, 

*  Be  my  last  breathing  in  this  mortal  world  ! 

*  My  troublous  dream  this  night  doth  make  me  sad. 

*  Banish  the  canker  of  ambitious  thoughts  :]     So,  in  King- 
Henry  VIII.  : 

"  Cromwell,  I  charge  i\\eejiing  aivai/  nmbition." 

Steevens. 

N  2 


180  SECOND  PART  OF  act  u 

*  DucH.  What  dream'd  my  lord?  tell  me,  and 

I'll  requite  it 
'  With  sweet  rehearsal  of  my  morning's  dream. 
'  Glo.  Methought,  this  staff,  mine  office -badge 

in  court, 
'  Was  broke  in  twain  ;  by  whom,  I  have  forgot, 
'  But,  as  I  think,  it  was  by  the  cardinal ; 

*  And  on  the  pieces  of  the  broken  wand 

*  Were  plac'd  the  heads  of  Edmond  duke  of  Somer- 

set, 

*  And  William  de  la  Poole  first  duke  of  Suffolk. 

*  This  was  my  dream ;    what    it  doth  bode,  God 

knows. 

*  DucH.  Tut,  this  was  nothing  but  an  argument. 
That  he  that  breaks  a  stick  of  Gloster's  grove, 

'  Shall  lose  his  head  for  his  presumption. 

*  But  list  to  me,  my  Humphrey,  my  sweet  duke ; 
'  Methought,  I  sat  in  seat  of  majesty, 

*  In  the  cathedral  church  of  Westminster, 

*  And  in  that  chair  where  kings  and   queens  are 

crown'd  ; 
'  Where  Henry,   and  dame   Margaret,  kneeVd  to 
me, 

*  And  on  my  head  did  set  the  diadem. 

*  Glo.  Nay,   Eleanor,  then  must  I    chide   out- 

right : 

*  Presumptuous  dame,  ill-nurtur'd  Eleanor  ^ ! 
Art  thou  not  second  woman  in  the  realm  -j- ; 
And  the  protector's  wife,  belov'd  of  him  ? 

*  Hast  thou  not  worldly  pleasure  at  command, 

t  Quarto,  this  land. 

3  —  ill-nurtur'd  Eleanor !]      Ill-nurtur'd,  is   ill-educated. 
So,  in  Venus  and  Adonis  : 

"  Were  I  hard-favour'd,  foul,  or  wrinkled-old, 
"  III  nurtufd,  crooked,  churlish,  harsh  in  voice." 

Malone. 


sc.ji.  KING  HENRY  VI.  181 

*  Above  the  reach  or  compass  of  thy  thought  ? 
And  wilt  thou  still  be  hammering  treachery, 

*  To  tumble  down  thy  husband,  and  thyself, 

*  From  top  of  honour  to  disgrace's  feet  ? 
Away  from  me,  and  let  me  hear  no  more. 

*  DucH.  What,  what,  my  lord !  are  you  so  cho- 

lerick 

*  With  Eleanor,  for  telling  but  her  dream  ? 

*  Next  time  I'll  keep  my  dreams  unto  myself, 

*  And  not  be  check'd. 

*  Glo.  Nay,  be  not  angry,  I  am  pleased  again*. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  Mess.  My  lord  protector,  'tis  his  highness'  plea- 

sure, 

*  You  do  prepare  to  ride  unto  Saint  Alban's, 

*  Whereas  the  king  and  queen  do  mean  to  hawk  ^ 

Glo.  I  go. — Come,  Nell,  thou  wilt  ride  with  us  ? 

*  DucH.  Yes,  good  my  lord,  I'll  follow  presently. 

\_E.i'eunt  Gloster  and  Messenger. 

4  Nay,  be  not  angry,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  line,  we  h&ve  these 
two  in  the  old  phiy  : 

"  Nay,  Nell,  I'll  give  no  credit  to  a  dream  ; 

"  But  I  would  have  thee  to  think  on  no  such  things." 

Malone. 
^  Whereas  the  king  and  queen  do  mean  to  hawk.]      Whereas 
is  the  same  as  ivhere  ;   and  seems  to  be  brought  into  use  only  on 
account  of  its  being  a  dissyllable.     So,  in  The  Tryal  of  Treasure. 

1567: 

"  Whereas  she  is  resident,  I  must  needes  be." 
Again,  in  Daniel's  Tragedy  of  Cleopatra,  1594- : 

"  That  I  should  pass  tvhereas  Octavia  stands 

*'  To  view  my  misery,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Marius  and  Sylla,  1594? : 

"  But  see  ichereas  Lucretius  is  return'd. 

"  Welcome,  brave  Roman  !  " 
The  word  is  several  times  used  in  this  piece,  as  well  as  in  some 
others  ;  and  always  with  the  same  sense. 

Again,  in  the  51st  Sonnet  of  Lord  Sterline,  1604  : 

"  I  dream'd  the  nymph,  that  o'er  my  fancy  reigns, 

"  Came  to  a  part  ivhcreas  I  puus'd  ulone."     Steevens. 


'182  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  Follow  I  must,  I  cannot  go  before, 

*  While  Gloster  bears  this  base  and  humble  mind. 

*  Were  I  a  man,  a  duke,  and  next  of  blood, 

*  I  would  remove  these  tedious  stumbling-blocks, 

*  And  smooth  my  way  upon  their  headless  necks  : 

*  And,  being  a  woman,  I  will  not  be  slack 

*  To  play  my  part  in  fortune's  pageant. 

*  Where  are  you  there  .^  Sir  John  ^ !  nay,  fear  not, 

man, 

*  We  are  alone ;  here's  none  but  thee,  and  1. 

Enter  Hume. 

Hume.  Jesu  preserve  your  royal  majesty  ! 

^  DucH.    What  say'st  thou,  majesty !    I  am  but 

grace . 
Hume.  But,  by  the  grace  of  God,   and   Hume's 

advice, 

*  Your  grace's  title  shall  be  multiplied. 

*  DucH.  What  say'st  thou,  man  ?  hast  thou  as  yet 
conferr'd 
'  With  Margery  Jourdain,  the  cunning  witch  ^; 

*  And  Roger  Bolingbroke,  the  conjurer  ? 

*  And  will  they  undertake  to  do  me  good  ? 

^  —  Sir  John  !]  A  title  frequently  bestowed  on  the  cler<^y. 
See  notes  on  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  vol,  v.  p.  7,  and  p.  210. 

Steevf-;ns. 

7  With  Margery  Jourdain,  the  cunning  witch,]  It  appears 
from  Rymer's  Foedera,  vol.  x.  p.  505,  that  in  the  tenth  year  of 
King  Henry  the  Sixth,  Margery  Jourdcmayn,  John  Virley  clerk, 
and  friar  John  Asliwell  were,  on  the  ninth  of  May  14r53,  brought 
from  Windsor  by  the  constable  of  the  castle,  to  which  they  had 
been  committed  for  sorcery,  before  the  council  at  Westminster, 
and  afterwards,  by  an  order  of  council,  delivered  into  the  custody 
of  the  lord  chancellor.  The  same  day  it  was  ordered  by  the  lords 
of  council  that  whenever  the  said  Virley  and  Ashwell  should  find 
security  for  their  good  behaviour  they  should  be  set  at  liberty,  :ind 
in  like  manner  that  Jourdemayn  should  be  discharged  on  her  hus- 
band's finding  security.  This  woman  was  afterwards  burned  in 
Smithficld,  as  stated  in  the  play,  and  also  in  the  chronicles. 

DuUCE, 


*6'.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  183 

*  Hume.  This  they  have  promised, — to  show  your 

highness 
'  A  spirit  rais'd  from  depth  of  under  ground, 

*  That  shall  make  answer  to  such  questions, 

*  As  by  your  grace  shall  be  propounded  him. 

*  DucH.  It  is  enough  ^ ;  I'll  think  upon  the  ques- 

tions : 

*  When  from  Saint  Alban's  we  do  make  return, 

*  We'll  see  these  things  effected  to  the  full. 

*  Here,  Hume,  take  this  reward;  make  merry,  man, 

*  With  thy  confederates  in  this  weighty  cause. 

[^Ejcit  Duchess. 

*  Hume.  Hume  must  make  merry  with  the  du- 

chess' gold  ; 

*  Marry,  and  shall.  But  how  now,  Sir  John  Hume.'^ 

*  Seal  up  your  lips,  and  give  no  words  but — mum  ! 

*  The  business  asketh  silent  secrecy. 

*  Dame  Eleanor  gives  gold,  to  bring  the  witch  : 

*  Gold  cannot  come  amiss,  were  she  a  devil. 

*  Yet  have  I  gold,  flies  from  another  coast : 

*  I  dare  not  say,  from  the  rich  cardinal, 

'  And  from  the  great  and  new-made  duke  of  Suf- 
folk ; 

*  Yet  I  do  find  it  so  :  for,  to  be  plain, 

^  Duck.  It  is  enough  ;  &c.]     This  speech  stands  thus  in  the  old 
quarto  : 

"  Elean.  Thanks,  good  sif  John, 
"  Some  two  days  hence,  I  guess,  will  fit  our  time 
"  Then  see  that  they  be  here. 
"  For  now  the  king  is  riding  to  St.  Albans, 
"  And  all  the  dukes  and  earls  along  with  him, 
"  When  they  be  gone,  then  safely  may  they  come, 
"  And  on  the  backside  of  mine  orchard  here 
"  There  cast  their  spells  in  silence  of  the  night, 
"  And  so  resolve  us  of  the  thing  we  wish  :— — 
"  Till  when,  drink  that  for  my  sake,  and  so  farewell." 

Steevens. 
Here  we  have  a  speech  of  ten  lines,  with  different  versification, 
and  different  circumstances,  from  those  of  thejfere  which  are  found 
in  the  folio.     What  imperfect  transcript  (for  such  the  quarto  has 
been  called)  ever  produced  such  a  variation  ?     Malone. 


184  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  They,  knowing  dame  Eleanor's  aspiring  humour, 

*  Have  hired  me  to  undermine  the  duchess, 

*  And  buz  these  conjurations  in  her  brain. 

*  They  say,  A  crafty  knave  does  need  no  broker^; 

*  Yet  am  1  Suffolk  and  the  cardinal's  broker. 

*  Hume,  if  you  take  not  heed,  you  shall  go  near 

*  To  call  them  both — a  pair  of  crafty  knaves. 

*  Well,  so  it  stands :  And  thus,  I  fear,  at  last, 

*  Hume's  knavery  will  be  the  duchess'  wreck ; 

*  And  her  attainture  will  be  Humphrey's  fall : 

*  Sort  how  it  will  ^,  I  shall  have  gold  for  all. 

\Exit. 

SCENE  in. 

The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Peter,  and  Others,  with  Petitions. 

*  1  Pet.  My  masters,  let's  stand  close ;  my  lord 

*  protector  will  come  this  way  by  and  by,  and  then 

*  we  may  deliver  our  supplications  in  the  quill  \ 

^  —  A  crafty  knave  does  need  no  broker ;]  This  is  a  proverbial 
sentence.     See  Ray's  Collection.     Steevens. 

It  is  found  also  in  A  Knacke  to  Knowe  a  Knave,  1594? : 

"  '  Some  will  say 

"  A  crafty  knave  needs  no  broker, 

"  But  here  is  a  craftie  knave  and  a  broker  to."  Boswell. 
9  Sort  how  it  will,]  Let  the  issue  be  what  it  will.  Johnson. 
See  vol.  V.  p.  ^Sl,  n.  1. 

This  whole  speech  is  very  different  in  the  original  play.  In- 
stead of  the  last  couplet  we  find  these  lines  : 

"  But  whist.  Sir  John  ;  no  more  of  that  I  trow, 

"  For  fear  you  lose  your  head,  before  you  go."     Malone. 

*  —  in  THE  quill.]  In  quill  is  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's  reading; 
the  rest  have — in  the  quill.     Johnson. 

Perhaps  our  supplications  in  the  quill,  or  in  quill,  means  no 
more  than  our  tvritten  or  pemid  supplications.  We  still  say,  a 
drawing  in  chalk,  for  a  drawing  executed  by  the  use  of  chalk. 

Steevens. 

"  In  the  quill  "  may  mean,  '  with  great  exactness  and  obser- 
vance of  form,'  or  with  the  utmost  punctilio  of  ceremony.  The 
phrase  seems  to  be  taken  from  part  of  the  dress  of  our  ancestors, 
whose  rufts  were  quilled.     While  these  were  worO;,  it  might  be  the 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  185 

'  2  Pet.  Marry,  the  Lord  protect  him,  for  he's  a 

*  good  man  !  Jesu  bless  him  ! 

Enter  Suffolk  and  Queen  Mjrgaret. 

*  1  Pet.  Here  'a  comes,  methinks,  and  the  queen 

*  with  him :  I'll  be  the  first,  sure. 

'  2  Pet.  Come  back,   fool;  this  is  the  duke  of 

*  Suffolk,  and  not  my  lord  protector. 

*  SuF.  How  now,  fellow?  would'st  any  thing  with  me. ^ 

*  1  Pet.  I  pray,  my  lord,  pardon  me  !  I  took  ye 

*  for  my  lord  protector. 

*  Q.  Mar.  [Reading  the  superscription.]     To  my 

*  lord  protector!  are  your  supplications  to  his  lord- 

*  ship  ?  Let  me  see  them  :  What  is  thine  ? 

*  1  Pet.  Mine  is,  an't  please  your  grace,  against 

*  John  Goodman,  my  lord  cardinal's  man,  for  keep- 

*  ing  my  house,  and  lands,  and  wife  and  all,  from  me. 

*  SuF.   Thy  wife  too  ?  that  is  some  wrong,  in- 

*  deed  ^— What's  your's  .?— What's  here !   [Reads:\ 


vogue  to  say,  such  a  thing  is  in  the  quill,  i.  e.  in  the  reigning  mode 
of  taste.     ToLLET. 

To  this  observation  I  may  add,  that  after  printing  began,  the  si- 
milar phrase  of  a  thing  being  in  print  was  used  to  express  the  same 
circumstance  of  exactness.  "  AH  this,  (declares  one  of  the  quib- 
bling servants  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,)  I  say  in  print, 
for  in  print  I  found  it."     Steevens. 

In  quill  may  be  supposed  to  have  been  a  phrase  formerly  in 
use,  and  the  same  with  the  French  en  qiiille,  which  is  said  of  a 
man,  when  he  stands  upright  upon  his  feet  without  stirring  from 
the  place.  The  proper  sense  of  quille  in  French  is  a  nine-pin,  and, 
in  some  parts  of  England,  nine-pins  are  still  called  cayls,  which 
word  is  used  in  the  statute  33  Henry  VIII.  c.  9.  Q.uelle  in  the 
old  British  language  also  signifies  any  piece  of  wood  set  upright, 

Hawkins. 

'  Thy  wife  too  ?  that  is  some  wrong,  indeed.]  This  ivrang 
seems  to  have  been  sometimes  practised  in  our  author's  time. 
Among  the  Lansdowne  MSS.  we  meet  with  the  following  singular 
petition.  "  Julius  Borgarucius  to  the  Lord  Treasurer,  in  Latin, 
complaining  that  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  keeps  his  wife  from  him 
in  his  own  house,  and  wishes  he  may  not  teach  her  to  be  a  Pa- 
pist"     BoSWELL. 


186  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  Against  the  duke  of  8i(jf oik,  for  enclosing  the  com- 

*  mons  of  Melford. — How  now,  sir  knave  ? 

'  2  Pet.  Alas,  sir,  I  am  but  a  poor  petitioner  of 

*  our  whole  township. 

*  Peter.   [Presenting  his  petition.']  Against  my 

*  master,  Thomas  Horner,  for  saying.  That  the  duke 

*  of  York  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown. 

'  Q.  M^H.  What  say'st  thou  ?  Did  the  duke  of 

*  York  say,  he  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown. 

*  Pet.  That  my  master  was  ^  ?      No,  forsooth  : 

*  my  master  said.  That  he  was ;  and  that  the  king 

*  was  an  usurper*. 

*  SuF.  Who  is  there  ?  [Enter  Servants.] — Take 

*  this  fellow  in,  and  send  for  his  master  with  a  pur- 

*  suivant  presently : — we'll  hear  more  of  your  matter 

*  before  the  king.       [E.veinit  Servants  ivith  Peter. 

'  Q.  Mar.  And  as  for  you,  that  love  to  be  protected 

*  Under  the  wings  of  our  protector's  grace, 

*  Begin  your  suits  anew,  and  sue  to  him. 

[Tears  the  Petition. 

*  Away,  base  cullions  ! — Suffolk,  let  them  go. 

*  The  quarto  reads  : 

" an  usurer. 

"  Queen.  An  usurper,  thou  vvould'st  say. 
"  Peter.  Ay — an  usurper." 

3  That  my  master  was  ?]  The  old  copy— that  mv  mistress 
was?  The  present  emendation  was  supplied  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt, 
and  has  the  concurrence  of  Mr.  M.  Mason.     Steevens. 

The  folio  reads — That  my  mistress  was  ;  which  has  been  fol- 
lowed in  all  subsequent  editions.  But  the  context  shows  clearly 
that  it  was  a  misprint  for  tiiaster.  Peter  supposes  that  the  Queen 
had  asked,  whether  the  duke  of  York  had  said  that  his  7nastcr  (for 
so  he  understands  the  pronoun  he  in  her  speech)  was  rightful  heir 
to  the  crown.  "  That  my  master  was  heir  to  the  crown  !  (he  re- 
plies.) No,  the  reverse  is  the  case.  My  master  said,  that  the 
duke  of  York  was  heir  to  the  crown."  In  The  Taming-  of  the 
Shrew,  mistress  and  master  are  frequently  confounded.  The  mis- 
take arose  from  these  words  being  formerly  abbreviated  in  MSS. ; 
and  an  M.  stood  for  either  one  or  the  other.  See  vol.  v.  p.  396, 
n.  1.     Malone. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  VI.  187 

*  ^LL.  Come,  let's  be  gone. 

\^E.veii}2t  Petitioners. 

*  Q.  M.m.  My  lord  of  Suffolk,  say,  is  this  the 

guise, 

*  Is  this  the  fashion  in  the  court  of  England  ? 

*  Is  this  the  government  of  Britain's  isle, 

*  And  this  the  royalty  of  Albion's  king  ? 

*  What,  shall  king  Henry  be  a  pupil  still, 

*  Under  the  surly  Gloster's  governance  ? 

*  Am  I  a  queen  in  title  and  in  style, 

*  And  must  be  made  a  subject  to  a  duke  ? 

*  I  tell  thee,  Poole,  when  in  the  city  Tours 

*  Thou  ran'st  a  tilt  in  honour  of  my  love, 

*  And  stol'st  away  the  ladies'  hearts  of  France ; 

*  I  thought  king  Henry  had  resembled  thee, 

*  In  courage,  courtship,  and  proportion: 

*  But  all  his  mind  is  bent  to  holiness, 

*  To  number  Ave-Maries  on  his  beads : 

*  His  champions  are — the  prophets  and  apostles ; 

*  His  weapons,  holy  saws  of  sacred  writ ; 

*  His  study  is  his  tilt-yard,  and  his  loves 

*  Are  brazen  images  of  canoniz'd  saints. 

*  I  would,  the  college  of  cardinals 

*  Would  choose  him  pope,  and  carry  him  to  Rome, 
^  And  set  the  triple  crown  upon  his  head ; 

*  That  were  a  state  fit  for  his  hoHness. 

*  SuF.   Madam,  be  patient :  as  I  was  cause 

*  Your  highness  came  to  England,  so  will  I 

*  In  England  work  your  grace's  full  content. 

*  Q.  M^R.  Beside  the  haught  protector,  have  we 

Beaufort, 

*  The  imperious  churchman ;  Somerset,   Bucking- 

ham, 

*  And  grumbling  York :  and  not  the  least  of  these, 

*  But  can  do  more  in  England  than  the  king. 

*  SuF.  And  he  of  these,  that  can  do  most  of  all, 

*  Cannot  do  more  in  England  than  the  Nevils : 


188  SECOND  PART  OF  ^ict  i. 

*  Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  are  no  simple  peers. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Not  all  these  lords  do  vex  me  half  so 

much, 
'  As  that  proud  dame,  the  lord  protector's  wife, 

*  She  sweeps  it  through  the  court  with  troops  of 

ladies, 
'  More  Hke  an  empress  than  duke  Humphrey's  wife  : 
Strangers  in  court  do  take  her  for  the  queen  : 

*  She  bears  a  duke's  revenues  on  her  back  \ 
^  And  in  her  heart  she  scorns  our  poverty  : 

*  Shall  I  not  live  to  be  aveng'd  on  her  ? 

*  Contemptuous  base-born  callat  as  she  is, 

*  She  vaunted  'mongst  her  minions  t'other  day, 

*  The  very  train  of  her  worst  wearing-gown 

*  Was  better  worth  than  all  my  father's  lands, 

*  Till  Suffolk  gave  two  dukedoms "  for  his  daughter. 

*  Sue.  Madam,  myself  have  Hm'd  a  bush  for  her^; 

*  And  plac'd  a  quire  of  such  enticing  birds, 

*  That  she  will  Hght  to  listen  to  the  lays, 

*  And  never  mount  to  trouble  you  again. 

*  So,  let  her  rest:  And,  madam,  list  to  me; 

*  For  I  am  bold  to  counsel  you  in  this. 

*  Although  we  fancy  not  the  cardinal, 

*  Yet  must  we  join  with  him,  and  with  the  lords, 

*  Till  we  have  brought  duke  Humphrey  in  disgrace. 

*  As  for  the  duke  of  York, — this  late  complaint  ^ 

3  She  bears  a  duke's  revenues,  &c.]  See  King-  Henry  VIII. 
Act  I.  Sc.  I.  vol,  xix.     Malone. 

4  —  two  dukedoms  — ]  The  duchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine,  which 
Heniy  surrendered  to  Reignier,  on  his  marriage  with  Margaret. 
See  Sc.  I.  p.  170.     Malone. 

5  —  lim'p  a  bush  for  her  ;]  So,  in  Arden  of  Feversham,  1592  : 

"  Lime  your  twigs  to  catch  this  weary  bird." 
Again,  in  The  Tragedy  of  Mariam,  1612  : 

"  A  crimson  hush  that  ever  limes  the  soul."     Steevens. 
In  the  original  play  in  quarto  : 

"  I  have  set  lime-twigs  that  will  entangle  them." 

Malone. 
^  --  this  late  complaint  — ]     That  is,  The  complaint  of  Peter 


sc.iii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  189 

*  Will  make  but  little  for  his  benefit : 

*  So,  one  by  one,  we'll  weed  them  all  at  last, 

*  And  you  yourself  shall  steer  the  happy  helm. 

Enter  King  Henry,  York,  and  Somerset,  con- 
versing with  him  ;  Duke  and  Duchess  o/Gloster, 
Cardinal  Beaufort,  Buckingham,  Salisbury, 
and  Wartfick. 

*  K.  Hen.  For  my  part,  noble  lords,  I  care  not 

which ; 

*  Or  Somerset,  or  York,  all's  one  to  me. 

*  York.  If  York   have  ill   demean'd  himself  in 

France, 

*  Then  let  him  be  denay'd^  the  regentship. 

'  SoM.  If  Somerset  be  unworthy  of  the  place, 

*  Let  York  be  regent,  I  will  yield  to  him. 

'  JVar.  Whether  your  grace  be  worthy,  yea,  or 
no, 

*  Dispute  not  that :  York  is  the  worthier. 

*  Car.   Ambitious  Warwick,  let  thy  betters  speak . 
JVar.  The  cardinal's  not  my  better  in  the  field. 

*  Buck.  All  in  this  presence  are  thy  betters,  War- 

wick. 
JVar.  Warwick  may  live  to  be  the  best  of  all. 

*  Sal.  Peace,  son ; and  show  some  reason, 

Buckingham, 
*  Why  Somerset  should  be  preferr'd  in  this. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Because  the  king,  forsooth,  will  have 

it  so. 

*  Glo.  Madam,  the  king  is  old  enough  himself 

the  armourer's  man  against  his  master,  for  saying  that  York  was 
the  rightful  king.     Johnson. 

7  —  be  denay'd  — ]  Thus  the  old  copy,  I  have  noted  the 
word  only  to  observe,  that  denay  is  frequently  used  instead  of 
deny,  among  the  old  writers. 

So,  in  Twelfth-Night : 

"  My  love  can  give  no  place,  bide  no  denay."    Steevens. 


190  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

'  To  give  his  censure  ^ :  these  are  no  women's  mat- 
ters. 
Q.  Mar.  If  he  be  old  enough,  what  needs  your 
grace 

*  To  be  protector  of  his  excellence  ? 

'  Glo.  Madam,  I  am  protector  of  the  realm  ; 

*  And,  at  his  pleasure,  will  resign  my  place. 

SuF.  Resign  it  then,  and  leave  thine  insolence. 

*  Since  thou  wert  king,  (as  who  is  king,  but  thou  .^) 

*  The  commonwealth  hath  daily  run  to  wreck  : 

*  The  Dauphin  hath  prevaild  beyond  the  seas ; 

*  And  all  the  peers  and  nobles  of  the  realm 

*  Have  been  as  bondmen  to  thy  sovereignty. 

*  Car.    The  commons  hast   thou  rack'd ;   the 

clergy's  bags 

*  Are  lank  and  lean  with  thy  extortions. 

*  SoM.  Thy  sumptuous  buildings,  and  thy  wife's 

attire, 

*  Have  cost  a  mass  of  publick  treasury. 

*  Buck.  Thy  cruelty  in  execution, 

*  Upon  offenders,  hath  exceeded  law, 

*  And  left  thee  to  the  mercy  of  the  law. 

*  Q.  Mar.    Thy    sale    of  offices,  and  towns  in 

France, — 

*  If  they  were  known,  as  the  suspect  is  great, — 

*  Would  make  thee  quickly  hop  without  thy  head. 

\_E.vit  Gloster.     The  Queen  drops  her  Fan. 


^  —  his  censure :]     Through  all  these  plays  censure  is  used  in 
an  indifferent  sense,  simply  for  judgment  or  opinion.     Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Richard  III.  : 

"  To  give  your  censures  in  this  weighty  business." 
In  other  plays  I  have  adduced  repeated  instances  to  show  the 
word  was  used  by  all  contemporary  writers.     Steevens. 

Johnson's  remark  is  generally  true,  but  surely  it  is  not  used  in 
an  indifferent  sense  in  Othello,  vol.  ix.  p.  496  : 

" To  you,  lord  governor, 

"  Remains  the  censjire  of  this  hellish  villain.'"     Boswell. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  191 

'  Give  me  my  fan  ^ :  What,  minion  !  can  you  not  ? 
[Gives  the  Duchess  a  box  on  the  ear. 

*  I  cry  you  mercy,  madam  ;  Was  it  you  ? 

*  DucH.  Was't  I  ?  yea,  I  it  was,  proud  French- 

woman : 

*  Could  I  come  near  your  beauty  with  my  nails, 
I'd  set  my  ten  commandments  in  your  face  \ 

K.  Hen.  Sweet  aunt,  be  quiet ;  'twas  against  her 
will. 

*  DucH.  Against  her  will !  Good  king,  look  to't 

in  time ; 

*  She'll  hamper  thee,  and  dandle  thee  like  a  baby : 

*  Though  in  this  place  most  master  wear  no  breeches, 
She  shall  not  strike  dame  Eleanor  unreveng'd. 

\_E.vit  Duchess". 

*  Buck.  Lord  Cardinal,  I  will  follow  Eleanor, 

*  And  listen  after  Humphrey,  how  he  proceeds  : 

*  She's  tickled  now  '^ ;  her  fume  needs  no  spurs, 

9  Give  me  my  fan  :]     In  the  original  play  the  Queen  drops  not 
njan,  but  a  glove  : 

"  Give  me  my  glove  ;  why  minion,  can  you  not  see?  " 

Malone. 
I  I'd  set  my  ten   commandments  in  your  face.]     So,   in  the 
Play  of  the  Four  P's,   1569: 

"  Now  ten  times  I  beseech  him  that  hie  sits, 
"  Thy  wifes  x  com.  may  serche  thy  five  wits," 
Again,  in  Selimus  Emperor  of  the  Turks,   I59i' : 
"I  would  set  a  tap  abroach,  and  not  live  in  fear  of  my  wife's 
ten  commandments." 

Again,  in  Westward  Hoe,  1607  '■ 

"  your  harpy  has  set  his  ten  commandments  on  my  back." 

Steevens. 
^  Exit  Duchess.']     The  quarto  adds,  after  the  exit  of  Eleanor, 
the  following : 

"  King.  Believe  me,  my  love,  thou  wert  much  to  blame. 
"■  I  would  not  for  a  thousand  pounds  of  gold, 

"  My  noble  uncle  had  been  here  in  place, 

"  But  see,  where  he  comes  !  I  am  glad  he  met  her  not." 

Steevens. 
3  She's  TICKLED  now;]      Tickled  is  here  used  as  a  trisyllable. 
The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  not  perceiving  this,  reads — "  her 


192  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  She'll  gallop  fast  enough  *  to  her  destruction. 

\Exit  Buckingham. 

Re-enter  Gloster. 

*  Glo.  Now,  lords,  my  choler  being  over-blown, 

*  With  walking  once  about  the  quadrangle, 

*  I  come  to  talk  of  commonwealth  affairs. 

*  As  for  your  spiteful  false  objections, 

*  Prove  them,  and  I  lie  open  to  the  law : 

*  But  God  in  mercy  so  deal  with  my  soul, 

*  As  I  in  duty  love  my  king  and  country ! 

*  But,  to  the  matter  that  we  have  in  hand  : — 

*  I  say,  my  sovereign,  York  is  meetest  man 

*  To  be  your  regent  in  the  realm  of  France. 

*  SuF.  Before  we  make  election,  give  me  leave 

*  To  show  some  reason,  of  no  little  force, 

*  That  York  is  most  unmeet  of  any  man. 

'  York.  V\\  tell  thee,  Suffolk,  why  I  am  unmeet. 
'  First,  for  I  cannot  flatter  thee  in  pride  : 

*  Next,  if  I  be  appointed  for  the  place, 

*  My  lord  of  Somerset  will  keep  me  here, 

fume  can  need  no  spurs  ;  "  in   which  he  has  been  followed  by  all 
the  subsequent  editors.     Maloxe, 

Were  Mr.  Malone's  supposition  adopted,   the  verse  would  still 
''  halt  most  lamentably.     I  am  therefore  content  with  the  emenda- 
tion of  the  second  folio,  a  book  to  which  we  are  all   indebted  for 
restorations  of  our  author's  metre.  I  am  unwilling  to  publish  what 
no  ear,  accustomed  to  harmony,  can  endure.     Steevens. 

That  the  line  would  not  be  harmonious,  is  perfectly  true  ;  but 
how  many  lines  equally  faulty  occur  in  our  old  dramatick  writers. 
In  the  First  Part  of  Henrv  W.  to  instance  a  few  lines  out  of  manv, 
we  meet  with  these  : 

"  The  Earl  of  Salisbury  craveth  supply,  p.  17. 
"  I  am  come  to  survey  the  Tower  this  day,"  p.  28. 

Mr.  Steevens  himself,  p.  2i,  n.  2,  has  proposed  this  line  for  our 
adoption : 

'•'  Out  a  deal  of  old  iron  I  chose  forth." 

For  a  fuller  discussion  of  this  topick,  see  the  Essay  on  Shak- 
speare's  Metre,  vol.  ii,     Bosw  ell. 

■*  — FAST  enough — ]  The  folio  reads-7/flrre  enough.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Pope.     Maloxe. 


sc.  HI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  193 

*  Without  discharge,  money,  or  furniture, 

*  Till  France  be  won  into  the  Dauphin's  hands. 
=*  Last  time,  I  danc'd  attendance  on  his  will, 

*  Till  Paris  was  besieg'd,  famish'd,  and  lost. 

*  JVar.  That  I  can  witness ;  and  a  fouler  fact 

*  Did  never  traitor  in  the  land  commit. 
SuF.  Peace,  head -strong  Warwick  ! 

fV.^R.  Image   of  pride,  why  should  I   hold  my 
peace  ? 

Enter  Servants  of  Suffolk,   br'mging  in  Horner 

and  Peter. 

SuF.  Because  here  is  a  man  accus'd  of  treason  ; 
Pray  God,  the  duke  of  York  excuse  himself ! 

*  York.  Doth  any  one  accuse  York  for  a  traitor.^ 

*  K.  Hen.  What  mean'st  thou,  Suffolk  ?  tell  me : 

What  are  these  ? 
'  SuF.  Please  it  your  majesty,  this  is  the  man 

*  That  doth  accuse  his  master  of  high  treason  : 

*  His  words    were  these ; — that  Richard,  duke  of 

York, 

*  Was  rightful  heir  unto  the  English  crown : 

*  And  that  your  majesty  was  an  usurper. 

*  K.  Hen.  Say,  man,  were  these  thy  words  ? 
HoR.  An't  shall  please  your  majesty,  I  never  said 

nor  thought  any  such  matter:  God  is  my  witness, 
I  am  falsely  accused  by  the  villain. 

'  Pet.  By  these  ten  bones  \  my  lords,  \_Holdmg 

5  By  these  ten  bones,  &c.]  We  have  just  heard  a  Duchess 
threaten  to  set  he?-  ten  commandments  in  the  face  of  a  Queen. 
The  jests  in  this  play  turn  rather  too  much  on  the  enumeration  of 
fingers. 

This  adjuration  is,  however,  very  ancient.  So,  in  the  mystery 
of  Candlemas-Day,   1512: 

"  But  by  their  bouys  ten,  thei  be  to  you  untrue." 
Again,  in  The  longer  thou  livest  the  more  Fool  thou  art,  1570  : 

"  By  these  tenne  bones  I  will,  I  have  sworne." 
It  occurs  likewise  more  than  once  in   the  Morality  of  Hycke 
Scorner.     Again,  in  Monsieur  Thomas,   1637: 
VOL.   XVIII.  O 


194  SECOND  PAUT  OF  act  i. 

*  up  I/is  Hands  J]  he  did  speak  them  to  me  in  the 

*  garret  one  night,  as  we  were  scouring  my  lord  of 

*  York's  armour. 

*  York.  Base  dunghill  villain,  and  mechanical, 

*  I'll  have  thy  head  for  this  thy  traitor's  speech: — 

*  I  do  beseech  your  royal  majesty, 

*  Let  him  have  all  the  rigour  of  the  law. 

HoR.  Alas,  my  lord,  hang  me,  if  ever  I  spake  the 
words.  My  accuser  is  my  prentice;  and  when  I 
did  correct  him  for  his  fault  the  other  day,  he  did 
vow  upon  his  knees  he  would  be  even  with  me  :  I 
have  good  witness  of  this ;  therefore,  I  beseech  your 
majesty,  do  not  cast  away  an  honest  man  for  a  vil- 
lain's accusation. 

K.  Hen.  Uncle,  what  shall  we  say  to  this  in  law  ? 

*  Glo.  This  doom,  my  lord,  if  I  may  judge. 

*  Let  Somerset  be  regent  o'er  the  French, 

*  Because  in  York  this  breeds  suspicion  : 

*  And  let  these  have  a  day  appointed  them^ 

*  For  single  combat  in  convenient  place ; 

*  For  he  hath  witness  of  his  servant's  malice  : 


"  By  these  ten  bones,  sir,  by  these  eyes  and  tears." 

Steevens. 
^  And  let  these  have  a  day  appointed  them,  &c.]     In  the  ori- 
ginal play,  quarto  1600,  the  corresponding  lines  stand  thus  : 

"  The  law,  my  lord,  is  this.     By  case  it  rests  suspicious, 
"  l^hat  a  day  of  combat  be  appointed, 
"  And  these  to  try  each  other's  right  or  wrong, 
"  Which  shall  be  on  the  thirtieth  of  this  month, 
"  With  ebon  staves  and  sandbags  combating, 
"  In  Smitlifield,  before  your  royal  majesty." 
An    opinion   has  prevailed   that  The  whole   Contention,    &c. 
printed  in   1600,  was  an   imperfect   surreptitious  copy  of  Shak- 
speare's  play  as  exhibited   in  the  folio  ;  but  what  spurious  copy, 
or  imperfect  transcript  taken  in  short-hand,  ever  produced  such 
variations  as  these  ?     Malone. 

Such  varieties,  during  several  years,  were  to  be  found  in  every 
MS.  copy  of  Mr,  Sheridan's  then  unprinted  Duenna,  as  used  in 
country  theatres.  The  dialogue  of  it  was  obtained  piece-meal, 
and  connected  by  frequent  interpolations.     Steevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  195 

*  This  is  the  law,  and  this  duke  Humphrey's  doom^ 
SoM.  I  humbly  thank  your  royal  majesty. 
Hon.  And  I  accept  the  combat  willingly. 
Pet.  Alas,  my  lord,  I  cannot  fight ;  *  for  God's 

'  Here  Mr.  Theobald  inserted  the  following  lines  for  the  reason 
he  has  given  below.     Boswell. 

"  A'.  Hen.  Then  be  it  so.  My  lord  of  Somerset, 
"  We  make  your  grace  lord  regent  o'er  the  French."  These 
two  lines  I  have  inserted  from  the  old  quarto ;  and,  as  I  think, 
very  necessarily.  For,  without  them,  the  King  has  not  declared 
his  assent  to  Gloster's  opinion  :  and  the  Duke  of  Somerset  is 
made  to  thank  him  for  the  regency  before  the  King  has  deputed 
him  to  it.     Theobald. 

The  plea  urged  by  Theobald  for  their  introduction  is,  that 
otherwise  Somerset  thanks  the  King  before  he  had  declared  his 
appointment;  but  Shakspeare,  I  suppose,  thought  Henry's  assent 
might  be  expressed  by  a  nod.  Somerset  knew  that  Humphrey's 
doom  was  final ;  as  likewise  did  the  Armourer,  for  he,  like  Somer- 
set, accepts  the  combat,  without  waiting  for  the  King's  confirma- 
tion of  what  Gloster  had  said.  Shakspeare  therefore  not  having 
introduced  the  following  speech,  which  is  found  in  the  first  copy, 
we  have  no  right  to  insert  it.  That  it  was  not  intended  to  be 
preserved,  appears  from  the  concluding  line  of  the  present  scene, 
in  which  Henry  addresses  Somerset  ;  whereas  in  the  quarto, 
Somerset  goes  out,  on  his  appointment.  This  is  one  of  those 
minute  circumstances  which  may  be  urged  to  show  that  these 
plays,  however  afterwards  worked  up  by  Shakspeare,  were  origi- 
nallij  the  production  of  another  author,  and  that  the  quarto 
edition  of  1600  was  printed  from  the  coin)  originally  written  by 
that  author,  whoever  he  was.     Malone. 

After  the  lines  inserted  by  Theobald,  the  King  continues  his 
speech  thus  : 

" ■ over  the  French  ; 

"  And  to  defend  our  rights  'gainst  foreign  foes, 

"  And  so  do  good  unto  the  realm  of  France. 

"  Make  haste,  my  lord  ;  'tis  time  that  you  were  gone  : 

"  The  time  of  truce,  I  think,  is  full  expir'd. 

"  Sowz.  I  humbly  thank  your  royal  majesty, 
"  And  take  my  leave,  to  post  with  speed  to  France. 

"  SJLxit  Somerset. 
"  King.  Come,  uncle  Gloster ;  now  let's  have  our  horse, 
"  For  we  will  to  St.  Albans  presently. 
"  Madam,  your  hawk,  they  say,  is  swift  of  flight, 
"  And  we  will  try  how  she  will  fly  to-day. 

"  [Exeunt  omnes." 
Steevens. 

o  2 


196  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  sake,  pity  my  case!  the   spite  of  man  prevaileth 

*  against  me.     O,   Lord  have  mercy  upon  me!  I 

*  shall  never  be  able  to  fight  a  blow :  O  Lord,  my 

*  heart ! 

Glo.  Sirrah,  or  you  must  fight  or  else  be  hang'd. 

*  K.  Hen.  Away  with  them   to  prison :  and  the 

day 

*  Of  combat  shall  be  the  last  of  the  next  month. — 

*  Come,  Somerset,  we'll  see  thee  sent  away. 

\_Ej:eu7it. 

SCENE  IV. 

The  Same.     The  Duke  of  Gloster's  Garden. 

Enter  ^  M.^rgeey  Jourdain,  Hume,  Southtfell^ 

arid  BOLINGBROKE. 

*  Hume.  Come,  my  masters ;  the  duchess,  I  tell 

*  you,  expects  performance  of  your  promises. 

*  BoLiNG.  Master  Hume,  we  are  therefore  pro- 

*  vided  :  Will  her  ladyship  behold  and  hear  our  ex- 

*  orcisms  ^ .'' 

*  Hume,  Ay ;  What  else  ?  fear  you  not  her  cou- 

*  rage. 

*  Enter,  &c.]     The  quarto  reads  : 

"  Enter  Eleanor,   Sir  John  Hum,  Roger  Bolinobrook  a  conjurer, 
and  Margery  Jourdaine  a  ivitcli. 
"  Eleanor.  Here,  sir  John,  take  this  scroll  of  paper  here, 
"  Wherein  is  writ  the  questions  you  shall  ask  : 
"  And  I  will  stand  upon  this  tower  here, 
"  And  hear  the  spirit  what  it  says  to  you  ; 
"  And  to  my  questions  write  the  answers  down. 

"  [She  goes  up  to  the  toiver." 
Steevens. 
9  — our  EXORCISMS  !]     The  word  exorcise,  and  its  derivatives, 
are  used   by  Shakspeare  in  an   uncommon  sense.     In   all  other 
writei-s   it  means   to  lay  spirits,  but  in  these  plays  it  invariably 
means  to  raise  them.     So,  in  Julius  Caesar,   Ligarius  says — 
*'  Thou,  like  an  exorcist,  hast  conjur'd  up 
"  My  mortified  spirit."     M.  Mason. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  197 

*  BoLiiVG.  I  have  heard  her  reported  to  be  a  wo- 

*  man  of  an  invincible  spirit :  But  it  shall  be  con- 

*  venient,  master  Hume,  that  you  be  by  her  aloft, 

*  while  we  be  busy  below ;  and  so  I  pray  you,  go  in 

*  God's  name,  and  leave  us.   \^E.vit  Hume.~\  'Mo- 

*  ther  Jourdain,  be  you  prostrate,  and  grovel  on  the 

*  earth  : — *  John  Southwell,  read  you ;  and  let  us 

*  to  our  work. 

Enter  Duchess^  above. 

*  DucH.  Well  said,  my  masters ;  and  welcome 

*  all.     To  this  geer;  the  sooner  the  better. 

*  BoLiNG.  Patience,  good  lady ;  wizards  know 

their  times  : 
Deep  night,  dark  night,  the  silent  of  the  night  \ 

'  Deep  night,  dark  night,  the  silent  of  the  night,]  The  silent 
of  the  night  is  a  classical  expression,  and  means  an  interlunar 
night. — Arnica  silentia  luncB.  So,  Pliny,  Inter  omnes  vero  con- 
venit,  utilissime  in  coitu  ejus  sterni,  quern  diem  alii  interlunii, 
alii  silentis  lunae  appellant.  Lib.  xvi.  cap.  39.  In  imitation  of  this 
language,  Milton  says : 

"  The  sun  to  me  is  dark, 

"  And  silent  as  the  moon, 

"  When  she  deserts  the  night, 

"  Hid  in  her  vacant  interlunar  cave."  Warburton. 
I  believe  this  display  of  learning  might  have  been  spared. 
Silent,  though  an  adjective,  is  used  by  Shakspeure  as  a  substan- 
tive. So,  in  The  Tempest,  the  vast  of  night  is  used  for  the 
greatest  part  of  it.  The  old  quarto  reads,  "  the  silence  of  the 
night."     The  variation  between  the  copies  is  vv'orth  notice  : 

"  Bolinvbroohe  makes  a  circle. 

CD 

"  Bol.  Dark  night,  dread  night,  the  silence  of  the  night, 
"  Wherein  the  furies  mask  in  hellish  troops, 
"  Send  up,  I  charge  you,  from  Cocytus'  lake, 
*'  The  spirit  Ascalon  to  come  to  me ; 
"  To  pierce  the  bovi^els  of  this  centrick  earth, 
"  And  hither  come  in  twinkling  of  an  eye  ! 
"Ascalon,  ascend,  ascend!  " 
In  a  speech  already  quoted  from  the  quarto,    Eleanor  says, 
they  have — 

" cast  their  spells  in  silence  of  the  night." 


198  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  The  time  of  night  when  Troy  was  set  on  fire; 

*  The  time  when  screech-owls  cry,  and  ban-dogs 

howP, 

*  And  spirits  walk,  and  ghosts  break  up  their  graves, 

*  That  time  best  fits  the  work  we  have  in  hand. 

'  Madam,  sit  you,  and  fear  not ;  whom  we  raise, 

*  We  will  make  fast  within  a  hallow'd  verge. 

\_Here  they  perform  the  Ceremonies  appertaining, 
and  make  the  Circle  ;  Bolixgbroke,  or  South- 
TT'ELL,  reads,  Conjuro  te,  &c.  It  thunders  and 
light ejis  terribly  ;  then  the  Spirit  riseth. 

*  Spir.  Adsum. 

*  M.  JouRD.  Asmath. 

*  By  the  eternal  God,  whose  name  and  power 

*  Thou  tremblest  at,  answer  that  I  shall  ask ; 

And  in  the  ancient  Interlude  of  Nature,  bl.  1,  no  date,  is  the 
same  expression : 

"  Who  taught  the  nyghtyngall  to  recorde  besyly 
"  Her  strange  entunes  in  sijlence  of  the  nyght?" 
Again,  in  The  Faithful  Shepherdess  of  Fletcher  : 
"  Through  still  silence  of  the  night, 
"  Guided  by  the  glow-worm's  light."     Steevens. 
Steevens's  explanation  of  this  jiassage   is  evidently  right ;  and 
Warburton's  observations  on  it,  though  long,  learned,  and  labo- 
rious, are  nothing  to  the  purpose.     Bolingbroke  does  not  talk  of 
the  silence  of  the  moon,  but  of  the  silence  of  the  night  ;  nor  is  he 
describing  the  time  of  the  month,  but  the  hour  of  the  night. 

M.  Mason. 
^  —  BAN-DOGS  howl,]  I  was  unacquainted  with  the  etymo- 
logy of  this  word,  till  it  was  pointed  out  to  me  by  an  ingenious 
correspondent  in  the  Supplement  to  The  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
for  1789,  who  signs  himself  D.  T.  :  "  Shakspeare's  ban-dog 
(says  he)  is  simply  a  village-dog,  or  mastiff",  which  was  formerly 
called  a  hand-dog,  per  syncopen,  ban-dog."  In  support  of  this 
opinion  he  quotes  Caius  de  Canibus  Britannicis :  "  Hoc  genus 
canis,  etiam  catenarium,  a.  catena  vel  ligamento,  qua  ad  januas 
intordiu  detinetur,  ne  Isedat,  et  tamen  latratu  terreat,  appellatur. 
— Rusticos,  shepherds'  dogs,  mastivcs,  et  bandogs,  nominuvimus." 

Steevens. 
Ban-dogis  certainly  a  corruption  of  band-dog  ;  or  rather  the  first 
d  is  suppressed  here,  as  iu  other  compound  words.     Cole,    in  his 
Diet.  1679,  renders  ban-dug,  canis  catenalus      Malone. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  199 

*  For,  till  thou  speak,  thou  shalt  not  pass  from 
hence. 
*  Spjr.  Ask  what  thou  wilt : — That  I  had  said 

and  done  '^ ! 
BoLiNG.  First,  of  the  king.     What  shall  of  hirn 
become'^  ?  \_Readiug  out  of  a  Paper. 

Spir.  The  duke  yet  lives,  that  Henry  shall  de- 
pose; 
But  him  outlive,  and  die  a  violent  death. 

[As  the  Spirit  speaks,  SouTHfFELL  writes  the 
answer. 
BoLiNG.  What  fate  awaits  the  duke  of  Suffolk  ? 
Spir.  By  water  shall  he  die,  and  take  his  end. 
BoLiNG.  What  sJiall  befall  the  duke  of  Somerset? 
Spir.  Let  him  shun  castles  ; 
Safer  shall  he  be  upon  the  sandy  plains 
Than  where  castles  mounted  stand  ^. 


3  —  That  I  had  said  and  done !]  It  was  anciently  believed 
that  spirits,  who  were  raised  by  incantations,  remained  above 
ground,  and  answered  questions  with  reluctance.  See  both 
Lucan  and  Statins.     Steevens. 

So  the  Apparition  says  in  Macbeth  : 

'•  Dismiss  me. — Enough  !  " 

The  words  "  Tliat  I  had  said  and  done  !  "  are  not  in  the  old 
play.     Malone. 

■*  — What  shall  of  him  becajnef]  Here  is  another  proof  of 
what  has  been  already  suggested.  In  the  quarto  1600,  it  is  con- 
certed between  Mother  Jourdain  and  liolingbroke  that  he  should 
frame  a  circle,  &c.  and  that  she  should  "  fall  prostrate  to  the 
ground,"  to  "  whisper  with  the  devils  below."  [Southwell  is  not 
introduced  in  that  piece.]  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  incanta- 
tions begin,  BoUngbroke  reads  the  questions  out  of  a  paper,  as 
here.  But  our  poet  has  expressly  said  in  the  preceding  part  of 
this  scene  that  Southwell  was  to  read  them.  Here,  however,  he 
inadvertently  follows  his  original  as  it  lay  before  him,  forgetting 
that  consistently  with  what  he  had  already  written,  he  should 
have  deviated  from  it.  He  has  ftillen  into  the  same  kind  of  in- 
consistency in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  by  sometimes  adhering  to  and 
sometimes  deserting  the  poem  on  which  he  formed  that  tragedy. 

/  Malone. 

5  Than  where  castles  mounted  stand.]     I  remember  t.o  have 


200  SECOiSD  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  Have  done,  for  more  I  hardly  can  endure. 

BoLiNG.  Descend  to  darkness,  and  the  burning 
lake : 

*  False  fiend,  avoid  ^ ! 

[Thunder  and  Lightning.     Spirit  descends. 

Enter  York  and  BucKiNGHAMy  hastily,  with  their 
Guards,  and  Others. 

*  York.  Lay  hands  upon  these  traitors,  and  their 

trash. 

*  Beldame,  I  think,  we  watch'd  you  at  an  inch. — 

*  What,  madam,  are  you  there  ?  the  king  and  com- 

monweal 

*  Are  deeply  indebted  for  this  piece  of  pains ; 

*  My  lord  protector  will,  I  doubt  it  not, 

*  See  you  well  guerdon'd  for  these  good  deserts. 

*  DucH.  Not  half  so  bad  as  thine  to  England's 

king, 

*  Injurious  duke ;  that  threat'st  where  is  no  cause. 

read  this  prophecy  in  some  old  Chronicle,  where,  I  think,  it  ran 
thus : 

"  Safer  shall  he  be  on  sand, 
"  Than  where  castles  mounted  stand  :  " 
at  present  I  do  not  recollect  where.     Steevens. 

^  False  fiend,  avoid  !]     Instead  of  this  short  speech  at  the  dis- 
mission of  the  spirit,  the  old  quarto  gives  us  the  following  : 
"  Then  down,  I  say,  unto  the  damned  pool 
•'  Where  Pluto  in  his  fieiy  waggon  sits, 
*'  Riding  amidst  the  sing'd  and  parched  smoaks, 
"  The  road  of  Dytns,  by  the  river  Styx  ; 
"  There  howle  and  burn  for  ever  in  those  flames  : 
"  Rise,  Jordane,  rise,  and  stay  thy  charming  spells  : — 
"  'Zounds  !  we  are  betray'd  !  " 
Dytas  is  written  by  mistake  for  Ditis,  the  genitive  case  of  Dis, 
which  is  used  instead  of  the  nominative  by  more  than  one  ancient 
author. 

So,  in  Thomas  Drant's  translation  of  the  fifth  Satire  of  Horace, 
1567: 

"  And  by  that  meanes  made  manye  soules  lord  Dltis  hall  to 
seeke."     Steevens. 
Here  again  we  have  such  a  variation  as  never  could  have  arisen 
from  an  imperfect  transcript.     Malone. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  201 

*  Buck.  True,  madam,  none  at  all.     What  call 

you  this  ?  [Shexvi7ig  her  the  papers, 

*  Away  with  them ;  let  them  be  clapp'd  up  close, 
'And  kept   asunder: — You,    madam,    shall    with 

us :  — 

*  Stafford,  take  her  to  thee. — 

[Exit  Duchess  from  above. 

*  We'll  see  your  trinkets  here  all  forth-coming ; 
'  All.— Away ! 

[Exeunt  Guards,  with  South,  Boling.  S^c. 

*  York.    Lord    Buckingham,    methinks  \   you 

watch'd  her  well : 

*  A  pretty  plot,  well  chosen  to  build  upon  ! 
Now,  pray,  my  lord,  let's  see  the  devil's  writ. 
What  have  we  here  ?  [Reads. 
The  duke  yet  lives,  that  Henry  shall  depose; 

But  him  outlive,  and  die  a  violent  death. 

*  Why,  this  is  just, 

*  j4io  te,  Macida,  Romanos  vincere  posse. 
Well,  to  the  rest: 

Tell  me  ^,  what  fate  azvaits  the  duke  of  Suffolk  ? 
By  water  shall  he  die,  and  take  his  end. — 
fFhat  shall  betide  the  duke  of  Somerset  ? — 
Let  hiju  shun  castles  ; 
Safer  shall  he  be  upon  the  sandy  plains, 

7  Lord  Buckingham,  methinks,  &c.]  This  repetition  of  the 
prophecies,  which  is  altogether  unnecessary,  after  what  the  spec- 
tators had  heard  in  the  scene  immediately  preceding,  is  not  to  be 
found  in  the  first  edition  of  this  play.     Pope. 

They  are  not,  it  is  true,  found  in  this  scene,  but  they  are  re- 
peated in  the  subsequent  scene,  in  which  Buckingham  brings  an 
account  of  this  proceeding  to  the  King.  This  also  is  a  variation 
that  only  could  proceed  from  various  authors.     Malone. 

8  Tell  me,  &c.]  Yet  these  two  words  were  not  in  the  paper 
read  by  Bolingbroke,  which  York  has  now  in  his  hand ;  nor  are 
they  in  the  original  play.  Here  we  have  a  species  of  inaccuracy 
peculiar  to  Shakspeare,  of  which  he  has  been  guilty  in  other 
places.  See  p.  170,  where  Glsster  and  Winchester  read  the 
same  paper  differently.    See  also  vol.  xi.  p.  420,  n.  6.     Malone. 

5 


202  SECOND  PART  OF  act  i. 

Than  where  castles  mounted  stand. 

*  Come,  come,  my  lords  ; 

*  These  oracles  are  hardily  attain'd, 

*  And  hardly  understood  ^. 

'  The  king  is  now  in  progress  toward  Saint  Albans, 

*  With  him  the  husband  of  this  lovely  lady : 

*  Thither  go  these  news,  as  fast  as  horse  can  carry 

them  ; 

*  A  sorry  breakfast  for  my  lord  protector. 

*  Buck.  Your  grace  shall  give  me  leave,  my  lord 

of  York, 

*  To  be  the  post,  in  hope  of  his  reward. 

*  York.  At  your  pleasure,  my  good  lord. — Who's 

within  there,  ho ! 

Enter  a  Servant. 

*  Invite  my  lords  of  Salisbury,  and  Warwick, 

*  To  sup  with  me  to-morrow  night. — Away  ! 

[E.veunt* 

9  These  oracles  are  hardily  attain'd, 
And  hardly  understood.]     The  folio  reads — hardhj.  Malone. 

Not  only  the  lameness  of  the  versification,  but  the  imperfection 
of  the  sense  too,  made  me  suspect  this  passage  to  be  corrupt. 
York,  seizing  the  parties  and  their  papers,  says,  he'll  see  the 
devil's  writ ;  and  finding  the  wizard's  answers  intricate  and  ambi- 
guous, he  makes  this  general  comment  upon  such  sort  of  intelli- 
gence, as  I  have  restored  the  text : 

"  These  oracles  are  hardily  attain'd, 
"  And  hardly  understood." 
i.  e.  A  great  risque  and  hazard  is  run  to  obtain  them  ;  and  yet, 
after  these  hardi/  steps  taken,  the  informations  are  so  perplexed 
that  they  are  hardly  to  be  understood.     Theobald. 

The  correction  made  by  Mr.  Theobald  has  been  adopted  by  the 
subsequent  editors.     Malone. 


ACT  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  203 

ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 

Saint  Albans. 

Enter  King  Henry,   Queen  Margaret,   Gloster, 
Cardinal,  and  Suffolk,  with  Falconers  hollaing. 

*'  Q.  Mar.  Believe  me,  lords,  for  flying  at  the 
brook  \ 

*  I  saw  not  better  sport  these  seven  years'  day : 
'■  Yet,  by  your  leave,  the  wind  was  very  high  ; 
And,  ten  to  one,  old  Joan  had  not  gone  out ". 

*  K.  Hen.  But  what  a  point,  my  lord,  your  falcon 
made, 

*  And  what  a  pitch  she  flew  above  the  rest  ^ ! — 

^  —  for  flying  at  the  brook  J  The  falconer's  term  for  hawking 
at  water-fowl,     Johnson. 

1  —  the|wind  was  very  high  ; 
And,  ten  to  one,  old  Joan  had  not  gone  out.]  I  am  told  by 
a  gentleman,  better  acquainted  with  falconry  than  myself,  that  the 
meaning,  however  expressed,  is,  that  the  wind  being  high,  it  was 
ten  to  one  that  the  old  hawk  bad  flown  quite  away  ;  a  trick  which 
hawks  often  play  their  masters  in  windy  weather.     Johnson. 

««  —  old  Joan  had  not  gone  out  "  i.  e.  the  wind  was  so  high  it 
was  ten  to  one  that  old  Joan  would  not  have  taken  her  flight  at 
the  game.     Percy. 

The  ancient  books  of  hawking  do  not  enable  me  to  decide  on 
the  merits  of  such  discordant  explanations.  It  may  yet  be  re- 
marked, that  the  terms  belonging  to  this  once  popular  amuse- 
ment were  in  general  settled  with  the  utmost  precision  ;  and  I 
may  at  least  venture  to  declare,  that  a  mistress  might  have  been 
kept  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  a  falcon.  To  compound  a  medicine 
to  cure  one  of  these  birds  of  worms,  it  was  necessary  to  destroy 
no  fewer  animals  than  a  lamb,  a  culver,  apigeon,  a  buck,  and  a  cat. 
I  have  this  intelligence  from  the  Booke  of  Haukinge,  &c.  bl.  1.  no 
date.  This  work  was  written  by  dame  Julyana  Bernes,  prioress  of 
the  nimnery  of  Sopvvell,  near  St.  Albans,  (where  Shakspeare  has 
fixed  the  present  scene,)  and  one  of  the  editions  of  it  was  prynted 
at  Westmestre  l}y  IVynkyn  de  Worde,  1496,  together  with  an  ad- 
ditional treatise  on  Fishing.     Steevexs. 

3  But  what  a  point,  my  lord,  your  falcon  made, 
And  what  a  pilch  she  flew  above  the  rest  !]     The  variation 


204  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

'  To  see  how  God  in  all  his  creatures  works  ! 

*  Yea,  man  and  birds,  are  fain  of  climbing  high*. 
SuF.  No  marvel,  an  it  like  your  majesty, 

My  lord  protector's  hawks  do  tower  so  well ; 
They  know  their  master  loves  to  be  aloft  ^, 

*  And  bears  his  thoughts  above  his  falcon's  pitch. 

*  Glo.  My  lord,  'tis  but  a  base  ignoble  mind 

*  That  mounts  no  higher  than  a  bird  can  soar. 

'  Car.  I  thought  as  much ;  he'd  be  above  the 
clouds. 

*  Glo.  Ay,  my  lord  cardinal ;  How  think  you  by 

that .? 
Were  it  not  good,  your  grace  could  fly  to  heaven  .? 

*  K.  Hen.  The  treasury  of  everlasting  j  oy ! 

*  Car.  Thy  heaven  is  on  earth  ;  thine  eyes  and 

thoughts 
'  Beat  on  a  crown  ^,  the  treasure  of  thy  heart ; 


between  these  lines  and  those  in  the  original  play  on  which  this  is 
founded,  is  worth  notice  : 

"  Uncle  Gloster,  how  high  your  hawk  did  soar, 
"  And  on  a  sudden  souc'd  the  partridge  down."     Malone. 
^  —  are  fain  of  climbing  high.]     Fain,  in  this  place,  signifies 
fond.     So,  in  Heywood's  Epigrams  on  Proverbs,  1562  : 
"  Fayre  words  make  foolesyazwe." 
Again,  in  Whetstone's  Promos  and  Ca.ssandra,  1578  : 

"  Her  brother's  life  would  make  her  glad  and  /?«'«." 
The  word,  (as  I  am  informed,)  is  still  used  in  Scotland. 

Steevens. 
i  —  to  be  aloft,]     Perhaps  alluding  to  the  adage  : 

"  High-flying  hawks  are  fit  for  princes." 
See  Ray's  Collection.     Steevens. 
^  —  thine  eyes  and  thoughts 
Beat  on  a  crown,]     To  hait  or  beat,  {bathe)  is  a  term   in 
falconry.     Johnson. 

To  bathe,  and  to  beat,  or  bate,  are  distinct  terms  in  this  diver- 
sion. To  (^fl/Z^c  a  hawk  was  to  wash  his  plumage.  To  beat,  or 
bate,  was  io flutter  with  his  wings.  To  beat  on  a  crown,  however, 
is  equivalent  to  an  expression  which  is  still  used — to  hammer,  i.  e. 
to  work  in  the  mind.  Shakspeare  has  employed  a  term  somewhat 
similar  in  a  preceding  scene  of  the  play  before  us  : 
"  Wilt  thou  still  be  hatnniering  treachery  ?  " 


sc.r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  205 

Pernicious  protector,  dangerous  peer, 
That  smooth'st  it  so  with  king  and  commonweal ! 
'  Glo.  What,  cardinal,  is  your  priesthood  grown 
peremptory  ? 

*  TantcEne  animis  ccElesiihiis  ircc  ? 

*  Churchmen  so  hot  ?   good  uncle,  hide  such  ma- 

lice ; 

*  With  such  holiness  can  you  do  it  ^  ? 

*  SuF.  No  malice,  sir;   no  more  than  well  be- 
comes 

*  So  good  a  quarrel,  and  so  bad  a  peer. 

Glo.  As  who,  my  lord  ? 

But  the  very  same  phrase  occurs  in  Lyly's  Maid's  Metamor- 
phosis, 1600 : 

"  With  him  whose  restless  thoughts  do  beat  on  thee." 
Again,  in  Doctor  Dodypoll,  1600: 

"  Since  my  mind  beats  on  it  mightily." 
Again,  in  Herod  and  Antipater,  1622  : 

*'  I  feel  within  my  cogitations  beating." 
Later  editors  concur  in  reading,  "  Bent  on  a  crown."     I  follow 
the  old  copy.     Steevens. 
So,  in  The  Tempest : 

"  Do  not  infest  your  mind  with  beating  on 
"  The  strangeness  of  this  business." 
Again,  in  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  1634- : 

"  This  her  mind  beats  on!' 
I  have  given  these  instances  of  this  phrase,  because  Dr.  John- 
son's interpretation  of  it  is  certainly  incorrect.     Malone. 

7  With  such  holiness  can  you  do  it?]     Do  what?     The  verse 
wants  a  foot ;  we  should  read  : 

'•  With  such  holiness  can  you  not  do  it  ?  " 
Spoken  ironically.     By  holiness  he  means  hypocrisy  :  and  says, 
'  have  you  not  hypocrisy  enough  to  hide  your  malice  ! ' 

Warburton. 
The  verse  is  lame  enough  after  the  emendation,  nor  does  the 
negative  particle  improve  the  sense.     When  words  are  omitted  it 
is  not  often  easy  to  say  what  they  were  if  there  is  a  perfect  sense 
without  them.     I  read,  but  somewhat  at  random  : 

"  A  churchman,  with  such  holiness  can  you  do  it?  " 
The  transcriber  saw  churchman  just  above,  and  therefore  omit- 
ted it  in  the  second  line.     Johnson. 

"  —  can  you  do  it  ?  "     The  old  play,  quarto  1600,  reads  more 
intelligibly,—"  Good  uncle,  can  yoM  dote?"     Malone. 


206  SECOND  PART  OF  ^cr//. 

SuF.  Why,  as  you,  my  lord  ; 

An'tlike  your  lordly  lord- protectorship. 

Glo,  Why,  Suffolk,  England  knows  thine  inso- 
lence. 

Q.  M.JR.  And  thy  ambition,  Gloster. 

K.  Hen.  I  pr'ythee,  peace, 

Good  queen ;  and  whet  not  on  these  furious  peers. 
For  blessed  are  the  peacemakers  on  earth  ^ 

Car.  Let  me  be  blessed  for  the  peace  I  make. 
Against  this  proud  protector,  with  my  sword ! 

Glo.  'Faith,  holy  uncle,  'would  'twere  come  to 
that !  \_j4side  to  the  Cardinal. 

*  Car.  Marry,  when  thou  dar'st.  \Aside. 

*  Glo.  Make  up  no    factious  numbers  for  the 

matter, 

*  In  thine  own  person  answer  thy  abuse.        \^Aside. 

*  Car.  Ay,  where  thou  dar'st  not  peep  :  an  if  thou 

dar'st, 

*  This  evening  on  the  east  side  of  the  grove.  \_Aside. 

'  K.  Hen.  How  now,  my  lords  .^ 

*  Car.  Believe  me,  cousin  Gloster, 

*  Had  not  your  man  put  up  the  fowl  so  suddenly, 

*  We  had  had  more  sport. — Come  with  thy  two- 

hand  sword.  \_Aside  to  Glo. 

Glo.  True,  uncle. 
Car.    Are   you    advis'd  ? — the  east  side  of  the 

grove  .^ 
Glo.  Cardinal,  I  am  with  you  ^.  \Aside, 

7  — blessed  are  the  peacemakers  on  earth.]     See  St.  Mat- 
thew, V.  9.    Reed. 

^  —  Come  with  thy  two-hand  sword, 

Glo.  True,  uncle,  are  ye  advis'd  ? — the  east  side  of  the  grove  ? 

Cardinal,  I  am  with  you.]  Thus  is  the  whole  speech  placed 
to  Gloster,  in  all  the  editions  :  but,  surely,  with  great  inadver- 
tence. It  is  the  Cardinal  who  first  appoints  the  east  side  of  the 
grove  for  the  place  of  duel :  and  how  finely  does  it  express  his 
rancour  and  impetuosity,  for  fear  Gloster  should  mistake,  to  re- 
peat the  appointment,  and  ask  his  antagonist  if  he  takes  him 
right !     Theobald. 

6 


sc.j.  KING  HENRY  VI.  207 

K.  Hen.  Why,  bow  now,  uncle  Gloster. 

*  Glo.    Talking  of  hawking;  nothing  else,  my 

lord. — 
Now,  by  God's  mother,  priest,  I'll  shave  your  crown 
for  this, 

*  Or  all  my  fence  shall  fail  ^.  [j4side. 

*  Car.  Medice  teipsum  ;  \  V  J  'ri 

*  Protector,  see  to't  well,  protect  yourself.  )   *- 

K.  Hen.  The  winds  grow  high ;  so  do  your  sto- 
machs, lords  ^ 

*  How  irksome  is  this  musick  to  my  heart ! 

*  When  such  strings  jar,  what  hope  of  harmony  ? 

*  I  pray,  my  lords,  let  me  compound  this  strife. 

Enter  an  Inhabitant  of  Saint  Albans,  crying, 

A  Miracle  ^ ' 

Glo.  What  means  this  noise  ? 

The  '  two-hand  sword '  is  mentioned  by  Holinshed,  vol,  iii. 
p.  833  :  "  — And  he  that  touched  the  tawnie  shield,  should  cast 
a  spear  on  foot  with  a  target  on  his  arme,  and  after  to  fight  with 
a  tivo-ha7id  sword."     Steevens. 

In  the  original  play  the  Cardinal  desires  Gloster  to  bring  *  his 
sword  and  buckler."  The  '  two  hand-sword  '  was  sometimes  called 
the  long  svoord,  and  in  common  use  before  the  introduction  of 
the  rapier.  Justice  Shallow,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
boasts  of  the  exploits  he  had  performed  in  his  youth  with  this  in- 
strument.— See  vol.  viii.  p.  70,  n.  3.     Malone. 

9  — my  fence  shall  fail.]  i^ewce  is  the  art  of  defence.  So, 
in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  : 

"  Despight  his  nice  Jence,  and  his  active  practice." 

Steevens. 

'  The  winds  grow  high  ;  so  do  your  stomachs,  lords.]  This 
line  Shakspeare  hath  injudi  ciously  adopted  from  the  old  play, 
changing  only  the  word  color  [choler]  to  stomachs.  In  the  old 
play  the  altercation  appears  not  to  be  concealed  from  Henry. 
Here  Shakspeare  certainly  intended  that  it  should  pass  between 
the  Cardinal  and  Gloster  aside ;  and  yet  he  has  inadvertently 
adopted  a  line,  and  added  others,  that  imply  that  Henry  has 
heard  the  appointment  they  have  made.     Malone. 

?■  — ciying,  A  Miracle  !]  This  scene  is  founded  on  a  story 
which  Sir  Thomas  More  has  related,  and  which  he  says  was  com- 
municated to  him  by  his  father.     The  impostor's  name  is  not  men- 


208  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Fellow,  what  miracle  dost  thou  proclaim  ? 
Inhab.  a  miracle  !  a  miracle  ! 
SuF.  Come  to  the  king,  and  tell  him  what  mi- 
racle. 
Inhab.  Forsooth,  a  blind  man  at  Saint  Alban's 
shrine, 
Within  this  half  hour,  hath  receiv'd  his  sight ; 
A  man,  that  ne'er  saw  in  his  life  before. 

*  K.  Hen.  Now,  God  be  prais'd  !  that  to  believ- 

ing souls 

*  Gives  light  in  darkness,  comfort  in  despair  ! 

Enter  the  Mayor  of  Saint  Albans,  and  his  Bre- 
thren ;  and  Simpcox,  borne  betzveen  two  persons 
in  a  Chair  ;  his  Wife  and  a  great  Multitude  fol- 
lowing. 

*  Car.  Here  come  the  townsmen  on  procession, 

*  To  present  your  highness  with  the  man. 

*  K.  Hen.   Great  is  his  comfort  in  this  earthly- 

vale, 

*  Although  by  his  sight  his  sin  be  multiplied. 

*  Glo.  Stand  by,  my  masters,bring  him  near  the 

king, 

*  His  highness'  pleasure  is  to  talk  with  him. 

*  K.  Hen.  Good  fellow,  tell  us  here  the  circum- 

stance, 

*  That  we  for  thee  may  glorify  the  Lord. 

What,  hast  thou  been  long  blind,  and  now  restor'd  ? 
Simp.  Born  blind,  ant  please  your  grace. 
Wife.  Ay,  indeed,  was  he. 
SuF.  What  woman  is  this  ? 
Wife.  His  wife,  an't  like  your  worship. 
Glo.  Had'st  thou  been  his  mother,  thoucould'st 
have  better  told. 


tioned,  !)ut  he  was  detected  by  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloster,  and 
in  the  manner  here  represented.  See  his  Works,  p.  134, 
edit.  1557.     Malone. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  209 

K.  Hex.  Where  wert  tliou  born  ? 
SiMF.  At   Berwick  in  the  north,  an't  like  your 
o;race. 

*  K.  Hen.  Poor  soul !  God's  goodness  hath  been 

great  to  thee  : 

*  Let  never  day  nor  night  unhallow'd  pass,  ^ 

*  But  still  remember  what  the  Lord  hath  done. 

*  0.  M.m.  Tell  me,   good  fellow,    cam'st  thou 

here  by  chance, 

*  Or  of  devotion,  to  this  holy  shrine  ? 

'  Simp.  God  knows,  of  pure  devotion;  being call'd 

*  A  hundred  times,  and  oft'ner,  in  my  sleep 

*  By  good  Saint  Alban;  who  said, — Simpcoj:\  come  ; 

*  Come,  offer  at  my  shrine,  and  I  will  help  thee. 

*  Wife.  Most  true,  forsooth  ;  and  many  time 

and  oft 

*  Pvlyself  have  heard  a  voice  to  call  him  so. 
Car.  What,   art  thou  lame  2 

SniF.  Ay,  God  Almighty  help  me  1 

SvF.  How  cam'st  thou  so  ? 

Simp.  A  fall  off  of  a  tree 

JViFE.  A  plum-tree,  master. 

Glo.  How  long  hast  thou  been  blind  ? 

Simp.  O,  born  so,  master. 

Glo.  What,  and  would'st  climb  a  tree  ? 

Simp.  But  that  in  all  my  life,  when  I  was  a  youth. 

*  JT^iFE.  Too  true ;  and  bought  his  climbing  very 

dear. 

*  Glo.  'Mass,    thou    lov'dst    plums   well,    that 

would'st  venture  so. 

3  — who  said — Simpcox,  &c.]     The  former  copies  : 

" who  said,   Simon,  come  ; 

"  Come,  offer  at  my  shrine,  and  I  will  help  thee." 
Why  Sinw)i  ?   The  chronicles,    that  take  notice  of  Gloster's 
detecting  this  pretended  miracle,  tell  us,  that  the  impostor,  who 
asserted  himself  to  be  cured  of  blindness,  was  called   Saunder 
Sivipcox — Siynon  was  therefore  a  corruption.     Theobald. 

It  would  seem  better  to  read  Simpcox  ;  for  which   Sim.  has  in 
all  ])robability  been  put  by  contraction  in  the  player's  MS. 

RiTSOX. 

VOL.  XYITI.  P 


210  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

*  Simp.  Alas,  good  master,  my  wife  desir'd  some 

damsons, 
'  And  made  me  climb,  with  danger  of  my  life. 
'*  Glo.  a  subtle  knave  !    but   yet   it  shall  not 
serve. — 

*  Let  me  see  thine  eyes  : — wink  now ; — now  open 

them  : — 

*  In  my  opinion  yet  thou  see'st  not  well. 

*  Simp.  Yes,  master,  clear  as  day  ;  I  thank  God, 

and  Saint  Alban. 
Glo.  Say'st  thou  me  so  ^  ?  What  colour  is  this 

cloak  of  .'^ 
Simp.  Red,  master;  red  as  blood. 
Glo.  Why,  that's  well  said :  What  colour  is  my 

gov;Ti  of? 
Simp.  Black,  forsooth  ;  coal-black,  as  jet. 
K.  Hen.  Why  then,  thou  know'st  what  colour 

jet  is  of  ? 
SvF.  And  yet,  I  think,  jet  did  he  never  see. 
Glo.  But  cloaks,  and  gowns,  before  this  day,  a 

many. 

*  Wife.  Never,  before  this  day,  in  all  his  life. 
Glo.  Tell  me,  sirrah,  what's  my  name  ? 
Simp.  Alas,  master,  I  know  not. 

Glo.  What's  his  name  ? 

Simp.  I  know  not. 

Glo.  Nor  his  ? 

Simp.  No,  indeed,  master. 

Glo.  What's  thine  own  name  ? 

Simp.  Saunder  Simpcox,  an  if  it  please  you, 
master. 

Glo.  Then,  Saunder,  sit  there  ^  the  lyingest  knave 
In  Christendom.     If  thou  hadst  been  born  blind, 

3  Say'st  thou  rae  so  ?]     This  phrase  occurs  in  A  new  and  plea- 
sant Interlude,  intituled  the  Marriage  of  Witteand  Science,  1570: 
"  Saj/'st  thou  me  so,  boye,  will  she  have  me  in  deede  ?  " 

BoSWELL, 

■♦  — sit  THOU  there,]     I  have  supplied  the  pronoun — thotc,  for 
the  sake  of  metre.     Steevens. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  211 

Thou  might'st  as  well  have  known  all  our  names  * 

as  thus 
To  name  the  several  colours  we  do  wear. 
Sight  may  distinguish  of  colours  ;  but  suddenly 
To  nominate  them  all,  it  is  impossible  ^. — 
My  lords,  Saint  Alban  here  hath  done  a  miracle ; 
And  would  ye  not  think  that  cunning  ^  to  be  great. 
That  could  restore  this  cripple  to  his  legs  again  ^  ? 

Simp.   O,  master,  that  you  could ! 

Glo.  My  masters  of  Saint  Albans,  have  you  not 
beadles  in  your  town,  and  things  called  v/hips  ? 

May.  Yes,  my  lord,  if  it  please  your  grace. 

Glo.  Then  send  for  one  presently. 

May.  Sirrah,  go  fetch  the  beadle  hither  straight. 

[RivY  an  Attendant. 

Glo.  Now  fetch  me  a  stool  hither  by  and  by.  [A 
Stool  brought  out.~\  Now,  sirrah,  if  you  mean  to 
save  yourself  from  whipping,  leap  me  over  this  stool, 
and  run  away. 

Simp.  Alas,  master,  I  am  not  able  to  stand  alone : 
You  go  about  to  torture  me  in  vain. 

Re-enter  Attendant,  with  the  Beadle. 
Glo.  Well,  sir,  we  must  have  you  find  your  legs. 
Sirrah  beadle,  whip  him  till  he  leap  over  that  same 
stool. 

5  —  OUR  names,]     Old  copy,  redundantly — all  our  names. 

Steevens. 
This  line  is  not  more  harsh  than  the  one  almost  immediately 
following : 

"  Sight  may  distinguish  of  colours  ;  but  suddenly." 
But  I  apprehend  no  metre  was  intended  in  either  instance,  and 
that  the  whole  of  this  speech  was  written  as  prose.     Boswell. 
^  To  nominate  them  all,  's  impossible.]     Old  copy  : 

" it  is  impossible."     Steevens. 

7  — THAT    cunning — ]      Folio—?'/    cunning.      Corrected    by 
Mr.  Rowe.     That  was  probably  contracted  in  the  MS.  yt. 

Malone. 
^   —  to  his   legs?]      Old    copies,    redundantly— to   his   legs 
again?     Steevens. 

P   2 


212  SECOND  PART  OF  act  lu 

Be.id.  I  will,  my  lord. — Come  on,  sirrah ;  off 
with  your  doublet  quickly. 

Simp.  Alas,  master,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  am  not 
able  to  stand. 

[After  the  Beadle  hath  hit  him  once,  he  leaps 
ove?^  the  Stool,  and  runs  arvajj ;  and  the 
People  J  ollozv  and  cry,  A  Miracle! 

*  K.  Hen.  O  God,  see'st  thou  this,  and  bear'st  so 

long  ? 

*  Q.  M.^R.  It  made  me  laugh  to  see  the  villain 

run. 

*  Glo.  Follow  the   knave ;  and   take  this  drab 

away. 

*  Wife,  Alas,  sir,  we  did  it  for  pure  need. 

*  Glo.  Let  them  be  whipped  through  every  mar- 
ket town,  till  they  come  to  Berwick,  whence  they 
came.  [E.rcunt  Mayor,  Beadle,  Wife,  (^'C. 

*  C.-iR.  Duke  Humphrey  has  done  a  miracle  to 

day. 

*  SuF.  True ;  made   the  lame  to  leap,   and  fly 

away. 

*  Glo.  But  you  have  done  more  miracles  than  I ; 
You  made,  in  a  day,  my  lord,  whole  towns  to  fly'-*. 

Enter  Buckixgh^m. 

*  K.  Hen.  What  tidings  with  our  cousin  Buck- 

ingham ? 

*  Buck.  Such  as  my  heart  doth  tremble  to  un- 

fold'. 

9  —whole  towns  to  fly.]     Here  in  the  old  play  the  Kino-  adds  : 
"  Have  done,  I  say;  and  let  me  hear  no  more  of  that." 

Steevens. 
^   Such  as  my  heart  doth  tremble  to  unfold,  &c.]     In  the  origi- 
nal play  the  corresponding  speech  stands  thus  ;  and  the  variation 
is  worth  noting : 

"  111  news  for  some,  my  lord,  and  this  it  is. 
*'  That  proud  dame  Elinor,  our  protector's  wife, 
"  Hath  plotted  treasons  'gainst  the  king  and  peers, 
"  By  witchcrafts,  sorceries,  and  conjurings  : 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  213 

*  A  sort  of  naughty  persons,  lewdly  bent  ^ — 

*  Under  the  countenance  and  confederacy 
'  Of  lady  Eleanor,  the  protector's  wife, 

'  The  ringleader  and  head  of  all  this  rout, — 

*  Have  practis'd  dangerously  against  your  state, 

*  Dealing  with  witches,  and  with  conjurers  : 
'  Whom  we  have  apprehended  in  the  fact ; 

*  Raising  up  wicked  spirits  from  under  ground, 

*  Demanding  of  king  Henry's  life  and  death, 

*  And  other  of  your  highness'  privy  council, 

'  As  more  at  large  your  grace  shall  understand. 
'  Cm,    And    so,    my    lord    protector,    by   this 
means 

*  Your  lady  is  forthcoming'^  yet  at  London. 

*  This  news,   I   think,   hath   turn'd  your  v.'eapon's 

edge  ; 

*  'Tis  like,  my  lord,  you  will  not  keep  your  hour. 

[^A-sidc  to  Gloster. 
'  Glo.  Ambitious  churchman,  leave  to  afflict  my 
heart ! 

*  Sorrow  and  grief  have  vanquish'd  all  my  pov/ers  : 

*  And,  vanquish'd  as  I  am,  I  yield  to  thee, 

*  Or  to  the  meanest  groom. 

*  K.  Hex.    O   God,    what   mischiefs  work    the 
wicked  ones ; 

*  Heaping  confusion  on  their  own  heads  thereby  ! 

"  Who  by  such  means  did  raise  a  spirit  up, 

"  To  tell  her  what  hap  should  betide  the  state; 

"  But  ere  they  had  finish'd  their  devilish  drift, 

"  Bv  York  and  myself  they  were  all  surpriz'd, 

"  And  here's  the  answer  the  devil  did  make  to  them." 

Malone. 

^  A  SORT LEWDLY  bent,]     Leivdlij,   in  this  place,   and  in 

some  others,  does  not  signify  ti;rt;;/t>«///,  hut  ivickedliy.  Steevens. 
The  word  is  so  used  in  old  acts  of  parliament.     A  sort  is  a  com- 
pany.     See  vol.  v.  p.  260,  n.  8.     Malone. 

3  Your  lady  is  forthcoming — ]     That  is,  Your  lady  is  in  cus- 
tody.    Johnson. 


214  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Gloster,  see  here  the  tainture  of  thy 
nest ; 

*  And,  look,  thyself  be  faultless,  thou  wert  best. 

'  Glo.  Madam,  for  myself^,  to  heaven  I  do  ap- 
peal, 

*  How  I  have  lov'd  my  king,  and  commonweal : 

*  And,  for  my  wife,  I  know  not  how  it  stands  ; 
'  Sorry  I  am  to  hear  what  I  have  heard : 

'  Noble  she  is ;  but  if  she  have  forgot 

*  Honour,  and  virtue,  and  convers'd  with  such 

*  As,  like  to  pitch,  defile  nobility, 

*  I  banish  her,  my  bed,  and  company ; 

'  And  give  her,  as  a  prey,  to  law,  and  shame, 

*  That  hath  dishonour'd  Gloster's  honest  name. 

'  K.  Hex.  Well,  for  this  night,  we  will  repose  us 
here: 
'  To-morrow,  toward  London,  back  again, 

*  To  look  into  this  business  thoroughly, 

*  And  call  these  foul  offenders  to  their  answers ; 

*  And  poise  the  cause  injustice'  equal  scales, 

*  Whose  beam  stands  sure,  whose  rightful  cause 

prevails  '\  [Flourish .     E.veimt. 

4  Madam,   for  myself,  &c.]     Thus  in  the  original  play  : 

'•'  And  pardon  me,  my  gracious  sovereign, 

"  For  here  I  swear  unto  your  majesty, 

"  That  I  am  guiltless  of  these  heinous  crimes, 

"  Which  my  ambitious  wife  hath  falsely  done  : 

"  And  for  she  would  betray  her  sovereign  lord, 

"  I  here  renounce  her  from  my  bed  and  board  ; 

'•'  And  leave  her  open  for  the  law  to  judge, 

"  Unless  she  clear  herself  of  this  foul  deed."        Malone. 

5  And  poise  the  cause  in  justice'  equal  scales. 

Whose  beam  stands  sure,  whose  rightful  cause  prevails.] 
The  sense  will,  I  think,  be  mended  if  we  read  in  the  optative 
mood  : 

" justice'  equal  scale, 

"  Whose  beam  stand  sure,  whose  rightful  cause  prevail!" 

Johnson. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  215 

SCENE  II. 
London.     The  Duke  of  York's  Garden. 

Enter  York,  Salisbury,  andW^jRiricK, 

'  York.    Now,  my  good  lords  of  Salisbury  and 
Warwick, 

*  Our  simple  supper  ended,  give  me  leave, 

*  In  this  close  walk,  to  satisfy  myself, 

*  In  craving  your  opinion  of  my  title, 

*  Which  is  infallible  ^  to  England's  crown. 

*  Sal.  My  lord,  I  long  to  hear  it  at  full. 
War.  Sweet  York,  begin :    and  if  thy  claim  be 
good. 
The  Nevils  are  thy  subjects  to  command. 
York.  Then  thus  : — 

*  Edward  the  Third,  my  lords,  had  seven  sons  : 

*  The  first,  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  prince  of  Wales ; 
'  The  second,  WilHam  of  Hatfield;  and  the  third, 

'  Lionel,  duke  of  Clarence  ;  next  to  whom, 

*  Was  John  of  Gaunt,  the  duke  of  Lancaster ; 

'  The  fifth,  was  Edmond  Langley  \  duke  of  York ; 

*  The  sixth,  was  Thomas  of  Woodstock,   duke  of 

Gloster  ; 

*  William  of  Windsor  was  the  seventh,  and  last. 

*  Edward,  the  Black  Prince,  died  before  his  father ; 

*  And  left  behind  him  Richard,  his  only  son, 

*  Who,  after  Edward  the  Third's  death,  reign'd  as 

king ; 

^  Which  is  infallible,]  I  know  not  well  whether  he  means 
the  opinion  or  the  title  is  infallible,     Johnson. 

Surely  he  means  his  title.     Malone. 

If  so,  why  crave  their  opinions  ?     Boswell. 

7  The  fifth,  was  Edmond  Langley,  &c.]  The  author  of  the 
original  play  has  ignorantly  enumerated  Roger  Mortimer,  Earl 
of  March,  as  Edward's  fifth  son  ;  and  represented  the  Duke  of 
York  as  Edward's  second  son.     Malone. 


216  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

*  Till  Henry  Bolingbroke,  duke  of  Lancaster, 

*  The  eldest  son  and  heir  of  John  of  Gaunt, 

*  Crown'd  by  the  name  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 

*  Seized  on  the  realm;  depos'd  the  rightful  king; 

*  Sent  his  poor  queen  to  France,  from  whence  she 

came, 

*  And  him  to  Pomfret ;  where,  as  all  you  know  ^, 

*  Harmless  Richard  was  murder'd  traitorously. 

*  JVar.  Father,  the  duke  hath  told  the  truth ; 

*  Thus  got  the  house  of  Lancaster  the  crown. 

*  York.  Which  now  they  hold  by  force,  and  not 

by  right ; 

*  For  Richard,  the  first  son's  heir  being  dead, 

*  The  issue  of  the  next  son  should  have  reign'd. 

*  Sal.  But  Wilham  of  Hatfield  died  without  an 

heir. 
^  York.  The  third  son,   duke  of  Clarence,  (from 
whose  line 
*I  claim  the  crown,)  had  issue — Philippe,  a  daugh- 
ter, 

*  Who  married  Edmund  Mortimer,  earl  of  March, 

*  Edmund  had  issue — Roger,  earl  of  March  : 

*  Roger  had  issue — Edmund,  Anne,  and  Eleanor. 

'  Sjl.  This   Edmund  '\  in  the  reign  of  Boling- 
broke, 

*  As  I  have  read,  laid  claim  unto  the  crown  ; 

*  And,  but  for  Owen  Glendower,  had  been  king, 


^  — as  ALL  you  know,]  In  the  original  play  the  words  are, 
"  — as  you  both  know."  'J'his  mode  of  phraseology,  wlien  the 
speaker  addresses  only  two  persons,  is  pecvdiar  to  Shakspeare. 
In  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  Act  III.  Sc,  I.  the  King  addressing 
AVarwick  and  Surrey,  sajs — 

"  Why  then,  good  morrow  to  you  all,  my  lords."  Malone. 

9  This  Edmund,  &c.]  In  Act  II.  Sc.  V.  of  the  last  play,  York, 
to  whom  this  is  spoken,  is  present  at  the  death  of  Edmund  Mor- 
timer in  prison  ;  and  the  reader  will  recollect  him  to  have  been 
married  to  Owen  Glendo\ver"s  daughter,  in  The  First  Part  of 
King  Henry  \Y.     Ritson. 


sc.  //.  KIXG  HENRY  VI.  217 

*  Who  kept  him  in  captivity,  till  he  died  '. 

*  But,  to  the  rest. 

'  Who  kept  him  in  captivity,  till  he  died.]  I  have  observed  in 
a  former  note,  (First  Part,  Act  II.  Sc.  V.)  that  the  historians  as 
well  as  the  dramatick  poets  have  been  strangely  mistaken  con- 
cerning this  Edmond  Mortimer,  Earl  of  .March,  who  was  so  far 
from  being  "  kept  in  captivity  till  he  died,"  that  he  appears  to 
have  been  at  liberty  during  the  whole  reign  of  King  Henry  V. 
and  to  have  been  trusted  and  employed  by  him  ;  and  there  is  no 
proof  that  'he  ever  was  confined,  as  a  state-prisoner,  by  King 
Henry  IV.  Being  only  six  years  of  age  at  the  death  of  his  father 
in  1j9S,  he  was  delivered  by  Henry  in  ward  to  his  son  Henrv 
Prince  of  Wales  ;  and  during  the  whole  of  that  reign,  being  a 
minor  and  related  to  tlie  family  on  the  throne,  both  he  and  his 
brother  Roger  were  under  the  particular  care  of  the  King.  At 
the  age  of  ten  years,  in  1402,  he  headed  a  body  of  Hereford- 
shire men  against  Owen  Glendower  ;  and  they  being  routed,  he 
was  taken  prisoner  by  Owen,  and  is  said  by  Walsingham  to  have 
entered  into  a  contract  of  marriage  with  Glendower's  daughter, 
and  to  have  been  with  him  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury;  but  I 
believe  the  story  of  his  being  affianced  to  Glendower's  daughter  is 
a  mistake,  and  that  the  historian  has  confounded  Mortimer  with 
Lord  Grey  of  Ruthvin,  who  was  likewise  taken  prisoner  bv  Glen- 
dower, and  actually  did  marry  his  daughter.  In  the  first  part  of 
Henrv  VI.  the  aced  and  crev-hair'd  Mortimer  is  introduced  in  the 
Tower,  and  made  to  say — 

"  Since  Harry  Monmouth  first  began  to  reign, 
"  This  loathsome  sequestration  I  have  had  :  " 
Yet  here  we  are  told,  he  was  kept  in  captivity  by  Owen  Glen- 
dower till  he  died.  The  fact  is,  that  Hall  having  said  that  Glen- 
dower kept  his  son-in-law.  Lord  Cirey  of  Ruthvin.  in  captivitij  till 
he  died,  and  this  Lord  March  having  been  said  by  some  his- 
torians to  have  married  Owen's  daughter,  the  author  of  this  play 
has  confounded  them  with  each  other.  Edmond  Mortimer,  Earl 
of  March,  married  .Anne  Stafl'ord,  the  daughter  of  E^dmnnd  Earl  of 
Stafford.  If  he  was  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury  he  was  probably 
brought  there  against  his  will,  to  grace  the  cause  of  the  rebels. 
The  Percies,  in  the  Manifesto  which  they  published  a  little  before 
that  battle,  speak  of  him,  not  as  a  confederate  of  Owen's,  but  as 
the  rightful  heir  to  the  crown,  whom  Owen  had  confined,  and 
whom,  finding  that  the  King  for  political  reasons  would  not 
ransom  him,  they  at  their  own  charges  had  ransomed.  After  that 
battle,  he  was  certainly  under  the  care  of  the  King,  he  and  his 
brother  in  the  seventh  year  of  that  reign  having  had  annuities  of 
two  hundred  pounds  and  one  hundred  marks  allotted  to  them,  for 
their  maintenance  during  their  minorities. 

In  addition  to  what  I  have  already  said  respecting  the  trust  re- 


218  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii, 

*  York.  His  eldest  sister,  Anne, 

*  My  mother  being  heir  unto  the  crown, 

*  Married  Richard,  earl  of  Cambridge ;    who  was 

son 

*  To  Edmund  Langley,  Edward  the  third's  fifth  son. 

*  By  her  I  claim  the  kingdom :  she  was  heir 

*  To  Roger,  earl  of  March  ;  who  was  the  son 

*  Of  Edmund  Mortimer;  who  married  Philippe, 

*  Sole  daughter  unto  Lionel,  duke  of  Clarence : 

*  So,  if  the  issue  of  the  elder  son 

*  Succeed  before  the  younger,  I  am  king. 


posed  in  him  during  the  whole  reign  of  King  Henry  V.,  I  may 
add,  that  in  the  sixth  year  of  that  King,  this  Earl  of  March  was 
with  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  at  the  siege  of  Fresnes  ;  and  soon  af- 
terwards with  the  King  himself  at  the  siege  of  Melun.  In  the 
same  year  he  was  constituted  Lieutenant  of  Normandy.  He 
attended  Henry  when  he  had  an  interview  with  the  French  King, 
&c.  at  Melun,  to  treat  about  a  marriage  with  Catharine,  and  he 
accompanied  the  Queen  when  she  returned  from  France  in  1422, 
with  the  corpse  of  her  husband. 

One  of  the  sources  of  the  mistakes  in  our  old  histories  concern- 
ing this  Earl,  I  believe,  was  this  :  he  was  probably  confounded 
with  one  of  his  kinsmen,  a  Sir  John  Mortimer,  who  was  confined 
for  a  long  time  in  the  Tower,  and  at  last  was  executed  in  liS-l-. 
This  Sir  John  Mortimer  was  perhaps  cousin  german  to  the  last 
Edmond  Earl  of  March,  the  illegitimate  son  of  his  uncle  Ed- 
mond. 

I  take  this  opportunity  of  correcting  an  inaccuracy  into  which  I 
had  formerly  fallen.  I  had  said  that  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence  was 
married  to  Elizabeth  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Ulster,  in  1360. 
I  have  since  learned  that  he  was  affianced  to  her  in  his  tender 
years  ;  and  consequently  Lionel,  having  been  born  in  1338,  might 
have  had  his  daughter  Philippa  in  1354'.  Philippa,  I  find,  was 
married  in  1370,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  to  Edmond  Mortimer  Earl 
of  March,  who  was  himself  born  in  1351.  Their  son  Roger  was 
born  in  1371,  and  must  have  been  married  to  Eleanor,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Earl  of  Kent,  in  the  year  1388,  or  1389,  for  their 
daughter  Anne,  who  married  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge,  was 
born  in  1389.  Edmond  Mortimer,  Roger's  eldest  son,  (the 
Mortimer  of  Shakspeare's  King  Henry  IV.  and  the  person  who 
has  given  occasion  to  this  tedious  note,)  was  born  in  the  latter 
end  of  the  year  1392;  and  consequently  when  he  died  in  his 
castle  at  Trim  in  Ireland,  in  1124-5,  he  was  thirty-two  years  old. 

Malone. 


sc.  JJ.  KING  HENRY  VI.  219 

*  JV^R.  What  plain  proceedings  are  more  plain 

than  this  ? 

*  Henry  doth  claim  the  crown  from  John  of  Gaunt, 
'  The  fourth  son  ;  York  claims  it  from  the  third. 

*  Till  Lionel's  issue  fails,  his  should  not  reign ; 
'  It  fails  not  yet ;  but  flourishes  in  thee, 

*  And  in  thy  sons,  fair  slips  of  such  a  stock. — 

*  Then,  father  Salisbury,  kneel  we  both  together  ; 

*  And,  in  this  private  plot  ^,  be  we  the  first, 
'  That  shall  salute  our  rightful  sovereign 

*  With  honour  of  his  birthright  to  the  crown. 

Both.  Long  live  our  sovereign  Richard,  England's 
king ! 

*  York.  We  thank  you,  lords.     But  I  am  not  your 

king 
'  Till  I  be  crown'd ;  and  that  my  sword  be  stain'd 
'  With  heart-blood  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  : 

*  And  that's  not  suddenly  to  be  perform'd  ; 

*  But  with  advice,  and  silent  secrecy. 

*  Do  you,  as  I  do,  in  these  dangerous  days, 

*  Wink  at  the  duke  of  Suffolk's  insolence, 

*■  At  Beaufort's  pride,  at  Somerset's  ambition, 

*  At  Buckingham,  and  all  the  crew  of  them, 

*  Till  they  have  snar'd  the  shepherd  of  the  flock, 

*  That  virtuous  prince,  the  good  duke  Humphrey : 

*  'Tis  that  they  seek  ;  and  they,  in  seeking  that, 

*  Shall  find  their  deaths,  if  York  can  prophesy. 

*  S^L.  My  lord,  break  we  off;    we  know  your 

mind  at  full. 
'  TVar.  My  heart  assures  me  ^,  that  the  earl  of 
Warwick 
'  Shall  one  day  make  the  duke  of  York  a  king. 

*  —  private  plot,]     Sequestered  spot  of  ground,     Malone. 

3  My  heart  assures  me,]  Instead  of  this  couplet,  we  find  in  the 
old  play  no  less  than  ten  lines  ;  so  that  if  we  suppose  that  piece  to 
be  an  imperfect  transcript  of  this,  we  must  acknowledge  the  tran- 
scriber had  a  good  sprag  memory,  for  he  remembered  what  he 
never  could  have  either  heard  or  seen.     Malone. 


220  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii. 

'  York.  And,  Nevil,  this  I  do  assure  myself, — 
'  Richard  shall  live  to  niake  the  earl  of  Warwick 

*  The  greatest  man  in  England,  but  the  king. 

\_Exmnt, 

SCENE  III. 

The  Same.     A  Hall  of  Justice. 

Trumpets  soii/uJed.  Enter  King  Henry,  Queen 
Margaret,  Gloster,  York,  Suffolk,  and  Salis- 
bury ;  the  Duchess  of  Gloster,  Margery  Jour- 
DAiN,  Southtt'ell,  Hume,  ttud  BoLiNGBROKE,  Un- 
der guard. 

'  K.  Hex.  Stand  forth,   dame  Eleanor  Cobham, 
Gloster's  wife  : 
'  In  sight  of  God,  and  us,  your  guilt  is  great ; 
'  Receive  the  sentence  of  the  law,  for  sins 

*  Such  as  by  God's  book  are  adjudg'd  to  death. — 

*  You  four,  from  hence  to  prison  back  again ; 

\_To  JOURD.  S^C, 

'*  From  thence,  unto  the  place  of  execution : 

*  The  witch  in  Smithfield  shall  be  burn'd  to  ashes, 

*  A.nd   you  three  shall  be  strangled  on  the  gal- 

lows.— 
'  You,  madam,  for  you  are  more  nobly  born, 
'  Despoiled  of  your  honour  in  your  life, 

*  Shall,  after  three  days'  open  penance  ^  done, 
'  Live  in  your  country  here,  in  banishment, 

'  With  sir  John  Stanley,  in  the  isle  of  Man. 

*  DucH.  Welcome  is  banishment,  welcome  were 
my  death. 


'*  —  after  three  days'  open  penance  — ]  In  the  original  play 
the  King  particularly  specifies  the  jj/or/c  of  penance  :  "  Thoushalt 
ixvo  days  do  penance  barefoot,  in  the  streets,  vvitli  a  white  sheet," 
&c.     Malone. 


sc.Jii.  KmG  HENRY  VI.  221 

*  Glq.  Eleanor,  the  law,  thouseest,  hath  judged 
thee  ; 

*  I  cannot  justify  whom  the  law  condemns. — 

[_E.veunt  the  Duchess,  and  the  other  Prisoners, 
cruarclcd. 
'  Mine  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  my  heart  of  grief. 
'  Ah,  Humphrey,  this  dishonour  in  thine  age 

*  Will  bring  thy  head  with  sorrow  to  the  ground  ! — 
'  I  beseech  your  majesty,  give  me  leave  to  go  ; 

'  Sorrow  would  solace,  and  mine  age  would  ease'^. 
'  A^  Hen.  Stay,  Humphrey  duke  of  Gloster :  ere 
thou  go, 
'  Give  up  thy  staff;  Henry  will  to  himself 
'  Protector  be  :  and  God  shall  be  my  hope, 
'  My  stay,  my  guide,  and  lantern  to  my  feet  ^ ; 
'  And  go  in  peace,  Humphrey  ;  no  less  belov'd, 

*  Than  when  thou  wert  protector  to  thy  king. 

*  Q.  M.jn.  I  see  no  reason,  why  a  king  of  years 

*  Should  be  to  be  protected  hke  a  child. — 

'  God  and  king  Henry  govern  England's  helm '' 

*  Give  up  your  staff,  sir,  and  the  king  his  realm. 

5  Sorrow  would  solace,  and  mine  age  would   ease.]     That   is. 
Sorrow  would  have,  sorrow  requires,  solace,  and  age  requires  ease. 

Johnson. 

6  —  lantern  to  my  feet ;]     This  image,  I  think,  is  from  our  Li- 
turgy :   "  —  a  lantern  to  my  feet,  and  a  light  to  my  paths." 

Steevens. 

7  God  and  king  Henry  govern  England's  helm  :]     Old  copy — 
realm.     Steevens. 

The  word  realm  at  the  end  of  two  lines  together  is  displeasing  ; 
and  when  it  is  considered   that  much   of  this  scene  is  written  in 
ihyme,  it  will  not  appear  improbable  that  the  author  wrote,  "go- 
vern England's  helm.''     Johnson. 
So,  in  a  preceding  scene  of  this  play  : 

"  And  you  yourself  shall  steer  the  happy  helm." 

Steevens. 
Dr.  Johnson's  emendation  undoubtedly  should  be  received  into 
the  text.     So,  in  Coriolanus  : 
"  — —  and  you  slander 
"  The  helms  of  the  state."     Malone. 


222  SECOND  PART  OF  act  lu 

*  Glo.    My  staff? — here,  noble    Henry,  is   my 

staff: 

*  As  willingly  do  I  the  same  resign, 

*  As  e'er  thy  father  Henry  made  it  mine  ; 
And  even  as  willingly  at  thy  feet  I  leave  it. 
As  others  would  ambitiously  receive  it. 

*  Farewell,  good  king  :  when  I  am  dead  and  gone. 
May  honourable  peace  attend  thy  throne  !      \_Exit. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Why,  now  is  Henry  king,  and  Mar- 

garet queen ; 

*  And  Humphrey,  duke  of  Gloster,  scarce  himself, 

*  That  bears  so  shrewd   a  maim  ;    two   pulls  at 

once, — 

*  His  lady  banish'd,  and  a  limb  lopp'd  off; 

*  This  stafi"  of    honour  raught  ^ : — 'There  let   it 

stand, 

*  Where  it  best  fits  to  be,  in  Henry's  hand. 

*  SuF.  Thus  droops  this  lofty  pine,  and  hangs  his 

sprays ; 

*  Thus  Eleanor's  pride  dies  in  her  youngest  days ''. 

^  This  staff  of  honour  raught  :]  Raught  is  the  ancient  pre- 
terite of  the  verb  reach,  and  is  frequently  used  by  Spenser  ;  as  in 
the  following  instance  : 

"  He  trained  was  till  riper  years  he  raught." 

See  vol,  xii.  p.  358,  n.  1.     Steeven^s. 

Rather  rcift,  or  reft,  the  preterite  oi reave;  unless  reached  were 
ever  used  with  the  sense  of  arracher,  Fr.  that  is,  to  snatch,  take 
or  pull  violently  away.  So,  in  Peele's  Arraygnement  of  Paris, 
1584: 

"  How  Pluto  raught  queene  Ceres  daughter  thence." 

RiTSON. 

9  Thus  Eleanors  pride  dies  in  her  youngest  days.]  This  ex- 
pression has  no  meaning,  if  we  suppose  that  the  word  her  refers 
to  Eleanor,  who  certainly  was  not  a  young  woman.  We  must 
therefore  suppose  that  the  pronoun  her  refers  to  pride,  and  stands 
for  it's; — a  license  frequently  practised  by  Shakspeare. 

M.  Mason. 

Or  the  meaning  may  be,  in  her,  i.  e.  Eleanor's,  youngest  days 
ofpoxxier.  But  the  assertion,  which  ever  way  understood,  is  un- 
true.    Malone. 


sc.  111.  KING  HENRY  VI.  223 

*  York.  Lords,  let  him  go\ — Please  it  your  ma- 

jesty, 

*  This  is  the  day  appointed  for  the  combat ; 

*  And  ready  are  the  appellant  and  defendant, 

*  The  armourer  and  his  man,  to  enter  the  lists, 

*  So  please  your  highness  to  behold  the  fight. 

*  Q.  Mar.    Ay,    good  my  lord ;    for    purposely 

therefore 

*  Left  I  the  court,  to  see  this  quarrel  tried. 

'  K.  Hen.  O'  God's  name,  see  the   lists  and  all 
things  fit ; 

*  Here  let  them  end  it,  and  God  defend  the  right ! 

*  York.  I  never  saw  a  fellow  worse  bested "", 

*  Or  more  afraid  to  fight,  than  is  the  appellant, 

*  The  servant  of  this  armourer,  my  lords. 

Enter,  on  one  side,  Horner,  and  his  Neigliboiirs, 
dinnking  to  him  so  much  that  he  is  drunk;  and  he 
enters  bearing  his  staff  wit  Jl  a  sand-bag  fastened 
to  it^ ;  a  drum  before  him:  at  the  other  side,  Pe- 
ter, with  a  drum  and  a  similar  staff;  accompa- 
nied by  Prentices  drinking  to  him. 
1  Neigh.  Here,  neighbour  Horner,  I  drink  to  you 

Suffolk's  meaning  may  be  : — "  The  pride  of  Eleanor  dies  before 
it  has  reached  maturity."  It  is  by  no  means  unnatural  to  sup- 
pose, that  had  the  designs  of  a  proud  woman  on  a  crown  suc- 
ceeded, she  might  have  been  prouder  than  she  was  before. 

Steevens. 

'  Lords,  let  him  go.]  i.  e.  Let  him  pass  out  of  your  thoughts. 
Duke  Humphrey  had  already  left  the  stage.     Steevens. 

*  —  worse  bested,]      In  a  worse  plight.     Johnson. 

3  —  'voith  a  sand-bag  fastened  to  it ;']  As,  according  to  the  old 
laws  of  duels,  knights  were  to  fight  with  the  lance  and  sword ;  so 
those  of  inferior  rank  fought  with  an  ebon  staff  or  battoon,  to  the 
farther  end  of  which  was  fixed  a  bag  crammed  hard  with  sand. 
To  this  custom  Hudibras  has  alluded  in  these  humorous  lines  : 

"  Engag'd  with  money-bags,  as  bold 

"  As  men  with  sand-bags  did  of  old."     Warburton. 
Mr.  Sympson,  in  his  notes  on  Ben  Jonson,  observes,  that  a  pas- 
sage in  St.  Chrysostom  very  clearly  proves  the  great  antiquity  of 
this  practice.     Steevens. 


224  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii, 

in  a  cup  of  sack ;  And  fear  not,  neighbour,  you  shall 
do  well  enough. 

2  Neigh.  And  here,  neighbour,  here's  a  cup  of 
charneco  *. 

3  Neigh.  And  here's  a  pot  of  good  double  beer, 
neighbour :  drink,  and  fear  not  your  man. 

Hon.  Let  it  come,  i'  faith,  and  I'll  pledge  you  all ; 
And  a  fig  for  Peter ! 

1  Prex.  Here,  Peter,  I  drink  to  thee  ;  and  be 
not  afraid. 

12  FiiEx.  Be  merry,  Peter,  and  fear  not  thy  mas- 
ter ;  fight  for  credit  of  the  prentices. 

Peter.   I  thank  you  all  :  *  drink,  and  pray  for  me, 

*  I  pray  you ;  for,   1   think,    I  have  taken  my  last 

*  draught  in  this  world  ■'.* — Here,  Robin,  an  if  I  die, 

4  —  a  cup  of  charneco.]  A  common  name  for  a  sort  of  sweet 
wine,  as  appears  from  a  passage  in  a  pamphlet  intitled  The  Disco- 
very of  a  London  Monster,  called  the  Black  Dog  of  Newgate, 
printed  1612  :  "  Some  drinking  the  neat  wine  of  Orleance,  some 
the  Gascony,  some  the  Bourdeaux.  There  wanted  neither  sherry, 
sack,  nor  charneco,  maligo,  nor  amber-colour'd  Candy,  nor  liquor- 
ish ipocras,  brown  beloved  bastard,  fat  Aligant,  or  any  quick-spi- 
rited liquor."  And  as  charnecn  is,  in  Spanish,  the  name  of  a  kind 
of  turpentine-tree,  I  imagine  the  growth  of  it  was  in  some  district 
abounding  with  that  tree  ;  or  that  it  had  its  name  from  a  certain 
flavour  resembling  it.     Warburton. 

In  a  pamphlet  entitled,  \Ant's  Miserie,  or  the  World's  Madne.ss, 

printed  in  1596,  it  is  said,  that  "  the  only  medicine  for  the  fleghm» 

is  three  cups  oi  charneco,  fasting." 

Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  \\'\i  Without  Money : 

"  Where  no  old  charneco  is,  nor  no  anchovies." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Honest  Whore,  1630,  Part  II. : 
"  Imprimis,  a  pottle  of  Greek  wine,  a  pottle  of  Peter-sameene,  a 

pottle  of  charneco,  and  a  pottle  of  Ziattica." 
Again,  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  West,  1615  : 
'         "  Aragoosa,  or  Peter-see-me,  canary,  or  charneco." 
Charneco  is   the   name  of  a  village   near  Lisbon,  where  this 

wine  was  made.     See  the  European  Magazine,  for  March,  1794-. 
•'   '  Steevens. 

5  I  have  taken  my  last  draught  in  this  world.]  Gay  has  bor- 
rowed this  idea  in  his  What  d'ye  call  it,  where  Peascod  says: 

"  Stay,  let  me  pledge — 'tis  mij  last  earthly  liquor." 


sc,  in.  KING  HENRY  VI.  225 

I  give  thee  my  apron  ;  and.  Will,  thou  shalt  have  my 
hammer  : — and  here,  Tom,  take  all  the  money  that 
I  have. — O  Lord,  bless  me,  I  pray  God  !  for  1  am 
never  able  to  deal  with  my  master,  he  hath  learnt 
so  much  fence  already. 

S.<iL.  Come,  leave  your  drinking,  and  fall  to 
blows. — Sirrah,  what's  thy  name  .^ 

Peter.  Peter,  forsooth. 

Sal.  Peter  !  what  more  ? 

Peter.  Thump. 

Sal.  Thump!  then  see  thou  thump  thy  master 
well. 

Hon.  Masters,  I  am  come  hither,  as  it  were, 
upon  my  man's  instigation,  to  prove  him  a  knave, 
and  myself  an  honest  man :  *  and  touching  the 
*'  duke  of  York, — will  take  my  death,  I  never 
meant  him  any  ill,  nor  the  king,  nor  the  queen : 
*  And  therefore,  Peter,  have  at  thee  with  a  down- 
right blow,*  as  Be  vis  of  Southampton  fell  upon  As- 
capart  ^. 

*  York.  Despatch  :  this  knave's  tongue  begins  to 
doubled 


Peascod's  subsequent  bequest  is  likewise  copied  from  Peter's 
division  of  his  moveables.     Steevens. 

^  — as  Bevis  of  Southampton  fell  upon  Ascapart.]  I  have 
added  this  from  the  old  quarto.     Warburton. 

Ascapart — the  giant  of  the  story — a  name  familiar  to  our  an- 
cestors, is  mentioned  by  Dr.  Donne  : 

"Those  Asccqmrts,  men  big  enough  to  throw 
"  Charing-cross  for  abar,"  &c.     Johnson. 

The  figures  of  these  combatants  are  still  preserved  on  the  gates 
of  Southampton.     Steevens. 

Shakspeare  not  having  adopted  these  words,  according  to  the 
hypothesis  already  stated,  they  ought  perhaps  not  to  be  here  in- 
troduced. However,  I  am  not  so  wedded  to  my  own  opinion, 
as  to  oppose  it  to  so  many  preceding  editors,  in  a  matter  of  so 
little  importance.     Malone. 

7  —  this  knave's  tongue  begins  to  double.]  So,  in  Holinsheti, 
whose  narrative  Shakspeare  has  deserted,  by  making  the  armourer 
confess  treason : 

VOL.  XVIII,  Q 


226  SECOND  PART  OF  ^ct  lu 

^  Sound  trumpets,  alarum  to  the  combatants. 
\Alarum,     They  fight,  and  Peter  strikes  dozvn 
his  Master. 
HoR.    Hold,  Peter,  hold !    I  confess,  I  confess 
treason.  [Dies. 

*    York.    Take    away  his    weapon :  —  Fellow, 
thank 


"  In  the  same  yeare  also,  a  certeine  armourer  was  appeached 
of  treason  by  a  servant  of  his  owne.  For  proofe  whereof  a  dale 
Avas  giuen  them  to  fight  in  Smithfield,  insomuch  that  in  conflict 
the  said  armourer  was  ouercome  and  slaine  ;  but  yet  by  raisgo- 
uerning  of  himselfe.  For  on  the  morrow,  when  he  should  haue 
come  to  the  field  fresh  and  fasting,  his  neighbours  came  to  him, 
and  gaue  him  wine  and  strong  drink  in  such  excessive  sort,  that 
he  was  therewith  distempered,  and  reeled  as  he  went ;  and 
so  was  slain  without  guilt :  as  for  the  false  seruant,  he  liued  not 
long,"  &c. 

By  favour  of  Craven  Ord,  Esq.  I  have  now  before  me  the  ori- 
ginal Exchequer  record  of  expences  attending  this  memorable 
combat.  From  hence  it  appears  that  William  Catour,  the  Ar- 
mourer, was  not  killed  by  his  opponent  John  Dav)',  but  worsted, 
and  immediately  afterwards  hanged.  The  following  is  the  last 
article  in  the  account ;  and  was  struck  off  by  the  Barons  of  Ex- 
chequer, because  it  contained  charges  unauthorised  by  the  Sheriffs. 

"  Also  paid  to  officers  for  watchyng  of  ye  ded") 
man  in  Smyth  felde  ye  same  day  and  ye  nyghte  j 
aftyr  yt  ye  bataill  was  doon,  and  for  hors  hyre  j 
for  ye  oificeres  at  ye  execucion  doyng,  and  for  |  , 

ye  hangman's  labor,  xj%  vi''.  !    o 

"  Also  paid  for  ye  cloth  yat  lay  upon  ye  ded  f  ^^^  '^"' 

man  in  Smyth  felde,  viij''.  j 

"  Also  paid  for  1  pole  and  nayllis,  and  for  | 
.settyng  up  of  ye  said  mannys  hed  on  london  j 
Brigge,  v.-"."  J 

The  sum  total  of  expence  incurred  on  this  occa- 
sion was ^.10  18  9. 

I  know  not  why  Shakspeare  has  called  the  Armourer  Horner. 
The  name  of  one  of  the  Sherifts  indeed  was  Home,  as  appears 
from  the  record  before  me,  which  will  be  printed  at  full  length  by 
Mr.  Nichols  in  one  of  his  valuable  collections.     Steevens. 

It  has  been  printed  in  his  work  entitled  Illustrations  of  the 
Manners  and  Expences  of  Antient  Times  in  England,  4to.  1797. 
See  more  on  this  subject  in  Mr.  Douce's  Illustrations,  vol.  ii.  p.  8. 

BoSWELt. 


sc.  IV.  KING  HENRY  VI.  227 

*  God,  and  the  good  wine  in  thy  master's  way. 

*  Peter.  O  God !  have  I  overcome  mine  ene- 
'  mies  in  this  presence  ^  O  Peter,  thou  hast  prevailed 

*  in  right ! 

K.  Hen.  Go,  take  hence  that  traitor  from  our 
sight ; 
For,  by  his  death,  we  do  perceive  his  guilt  ^ : 
And  God,  in  justice,  hath  reveal'd  to  us 
The  truth  and  innocence  of  this  poor  fellow, 
Which  he  had  thought  to  have  murder'd  wrong- 
fully.— 
Come,  fellow,  follow  us  for  thy  reward.      \Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 

The  Same.     A  Street. 

Enter  Gloster  and  Servaiits,  in  mourning  Cloaks, 

*  Glo.  Thus,  sometimes,  hath  the  brightest  day 
a  cloud ; 

*  And,  after  summer,  evermore  succeeds 

*  Barren  winter,  with  his  wrathful  nipping  cold  ^ : 

^  For,  by  his  death,  we  do  perceive  his  guilt :]  According  to 
the  ancient  usage  of  the  duel,  the  vanquished  person  not  only  lost 
his  life  but  his  reputation,  and  his  death  was  always  regarded  as 
a  certain  evidence  of  his  guilt.  We  have  a  remarkable  instance 
of  this  in  an  account  of  the  Duellum  inter  Dominum  Johannem 
Hannesly,  Militem,  et  Robertum  Katlenton,  Armigerum,  in 
quo  Robei'tus  fuit  occisus.  From  whence,  says  the  historian, 
"  magna  fuit  evidentia  quod  militis  causa  erat  vera,  ex  quo  mors 
alterius  sequebatur."     A.  Murimuth,  ad.  an.  1380,  p.  HQ. 

BoWLE. 

9  Barren  winter,  with  his  wrathful  nipping  cold  :]  So,  in 
Sackville's  Induction : 

"  The  •wratlifid  "whiter  'proaching  on  apace."     Reed. 

I  would  read — i?flre  winter — for  the  sake  of  the  metre,  which  is 
uncommonly  harsh,  if  the  word  barren  be  retained.     Steevens. 

q2 


228  SECOND  PART  OF  act  u. 

*  So  cares  and  joys  abound,  as  seasons  fleet  \ — 
Sirs,  what's  o'clock  ? 

Serv.  Ten,  my  lord  *  '. 

*  Glo.  Ten  is  the  hour  that  was  appointed  me, 

*  To  watch  the  coming  of  my  punish'd  duchess: 

*  Uneath  ^  may  she  endure  the  flinty  streets, 

*  To  tread  them  with  her  tender-feeling  feet. 
Sweet  Nell,  ill  can  thy  noble  mind  abrook 
The  abject  people,  gazing  on  thy  face. 

With  envious  ^  looks  still  laughing  at  thy  shame  ^ ; 
That  erst  did  follow  thy  proud  chariot  wheels, 
When  thou   didst   ride   in    triumph    through   the 
streets. 

*  But,  soft!  I  think,  she  comes  ;  and  I'll  prepare 

*  My  tear-stain'd  eyes  to  see  her  miseries. 

*  Quarto  : — "■  Glo.  Sii  ra,  what's  o'clock  ? 
"  Serv.  Almost  ten,  my  lord." 

'  —  as  seasons  fleet.]     Tojleet  is  to  change.     So,  in  Antony 
and  Cleopatra : 

" now  thejieeih/g  moon 

*' No  planet  is  of  mine."     Steevens. 
Dr.  Johnson  in  his  Dictionary  supposes  to  fleet  (as  here  used) 
to  be  the  same  as  to Jiit ;  that  is,  to  be  in  ajiiux  or  transient  state, 
to  pass  aticay .     Malone. 

^  Ten,  my  lord.]     For  the  sake  of  metre,  I  am  willing  to  sup- 
pose this  hemistich,  as  originally  written,  stood  — 
"  'Tis  ten  o'clock,  my  lord."     Steevens. 
3  Uneath — ]     i.  e.  scarcely.     Pope. 

So,  in  the  metrical  romance  of  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick,  bl.l.  no  date : 
"  Uneathes  we  came  from  him  certain, 
"  That  he  ne  had  us  all  slain." 
T!,ath  'is  the  ancient  word  for  ease  or  easy.     So,  in  Spenser's 
Fairy  Queen,  b.  iv.  c.  vi.  : 

"  More  eath  was  new  impression  to  receive." 
Uneath  is  commonly  used  by  the  same  author  for  7iot  easily. 

Steevexs. 

■*  —  envious — ]     i.  e.  malicious.     Thus  Ophelia,  in   Hamlet, 

is  said  to  "  spurn  enviously  at  straws."     See  note  on  this  passage. 

Steevens. 
5  With  envious  looks   still  laughing  at  thy  shame  ;]     StiU, 
which  is  not  in  the  elder  copies,  was  added  in  the  second  folio. 

Malone. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  229 

Enter  the  Duchess  of  Glosteh,  in  a  white  sheet, 
with  papers  pimi'd  upon  her  back,  her  feet  bare, 
and  a  taper  burning  iti  her  hand-y  Sir  John 
Stanley,  a  Sheriff,  and  Officers. 

Serf.  So  please  your  grace,  we'll  take  her  from 

the  sheriff. 
*  Glo.  No,  sth"  not,  for  your  lives ;  let  her  pass 

by^ 
DucH.     Come  you,    my  lord,    to   see  my  open 

shame  ? 
Now  thou   dost   penance   too.     Look,    how   they 

gaze  ! 

*  See,  how  the  giddy  multitude  do  point, 

'  And  nod  their  heads,  and  throw  their  eyes  on  thee  ! 

*  Ah,  Gloster,  hide  thee  from  their  hateful  looks ; 

*  And,  in  thy  closet  pent  up,  rue  my  shame, 
And  ban  thine  enemies,  both  mine  and  thine. 

Glo.  Be  patient,  gentle  Nell  ;  forget  this  grief. 

DucH.  Ah,  Gloster,  teach  me  to  forget  myself: 
For,  whilst  1  think  I  am  thy  married  wife. 
And  thou  a  prince,  protector  of  this  land, 

*  Methinks,  I  should  not  thus  be  led  along, 
Mail'd  up  in  shame  '',  with  papers  on  my  back ; 

*  And  follow'd  with  a  rabble,  that  rejoice 

*  To  see  my  tears,  and  hear  my  deep-fet  ^  groans. 
The  ruthless  flint  doth  cut  my  tender  feet ; 

And,  when  I  start,  the  envious  people  laugh. 
And  bid  me  be  advised  how  I  tread. 

*  Ah,  Humphrey,  can  I  bear  this  shameful  yoke  ? 

^  No,  stir  not,  &c.]     In  the  original  play  thus  : 
"  I  charge  you  for  your  lives,  stir  not  a  foot ; 
"  Nor  otter  once  to  draw  a  weapon  here, 
"  But  let  them  do  their  office  as  they  should."    Malone. 

7  Mail'd  up  in  shame,]      JFrapped  up,  bundled  up  171  disgrace; 
alluding  to  the  sheet  of  penance.     Johnson. 

8  — deep-FET — ]     i.e.  deep-fefc/ied.     So,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Whose  blood  if^Ji't  from  fathers  of  war-proof." 

Steevens. 


230'  ^  SECOND  PART  OF  act  w 

*  Trow'st  thou,  that  e'er  I'll  look  upon  the  world  ; 

*  Or  count  them  happy,  that  enjoy  the  sun  ? 

*  No ;  dark  shall  be  my  light,  and  night  my  day ; 

*  To  think  upon  my  pomp,  shall  be  my  hell. 
Sometime  I'll  say,  I  am  duke  Humphrey's  wife  ; 
And  he  a  prince,  and  ruler  of  the  land  : 

Yet  so  he  rul'd,  and  such  a  prince  he  was. 
As  he  stood  by,  whilst  I,  his  forlorn  duchess, 

*  Was  made  a  wonder,  and  a  pointing-stock. 
To  every  idle  rascal  follower. 

But  be  thou  mild,  and  blush  not  at  my  shame  : 
Nor  stir  at  nothing,  till  the  axe  of  death 
Hang  over  thee,  as,  sure,  it  shortly  will. 
For  Suffolk,— he  that  can  do  all  in  all 

*  With  her,  that  hateth  thee,  and  hates  us  all, — 
And  York,  and  impious  Beaufort,  that  false  priest, 
Have  all  lim'd  bushes  to  betray  thy  wings, 

And,  fly  thou  how  thou  canst,  they'll  tangle  thee  : 

*  But  fear  not  thou,  until  thy  foot  be  snaVd, 

*  Nor  never  seek  prevention  of  thy  foes. 

*  Glo.  Ah,  Nell,  forbear;  thou  aimest  all  awry  ; 

*  I  must  offend,  before  I  be  attainted : 

*  And  had  I  twenty  times  so  many  foes, 

*  And  each  of  them  had  twenty  times  their  power, 

*  All  these  could  not  procure  me  any  scathe  ■', 

*  So  long  as  I  am  loyal,  true,  and  crimeless. 

*  Would'st  have  me  rescue  thee  from  this  reproach  ? 
'  Why,  yet  thy  scandal  were  not  wip'd  away, 

*  But  I  in  danger  for  the  breach  of  law. 

*  Thy  greatest  help  is  quiet  \  gentle  Nell : 

*  I  pray  thee,  sort  thy  heart  to  patience ; 

9  —  any  scathe,]  Scalhe  is  /larm,  or  mischief.  Chaucer, 
Spenser,  and  all  our  ancient  writers,  are  frequent  in  their  use  of 
this  word.     Steevens. 

It  is  still  used  in  Scotland.     Boswell. 

*  Thy  greatest  help  is  quiet,]  The  poet  has  not  endeavoured 
to  raise  much  compassion  for  the  Duchess,  who  indeed  suffers  but 
what  she  had  deserved.     Johnson. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  23 1 

*  These  few  days'  wonder  will  be  quickly  worn. 

Enter  a  Herald. 

Her.  I  summon  your  grace  to  his  majesty's 
parliament,  holden  at  Bury  the  first  of  this  next 
month. 

Glo.  And  my  consent   ne'er   ask'd   herein  be- 
fore !  ' 
This  is  close  dealing. — Well,  I  will  be  there. 

\_E2it  Herald.' 
My  Nell,  I  take  my  leave  : — and,  master  sheriff. 
Let  not  her  penance  exceed  the  king's  commission. 
'  Sher.  An't  please  your  grace,  here   my  com- 
mission sta^^s : 

*  And  sir  John  Stanley  is  appointed  now 

*  To  take  her  with  him  to  the  isle  of  Man. 

*  Glo.  Must  you,  sir  John,  protect  my  lady  here  ? 

*  St^n.  So  am  I  given  in  charge,  may't  please 

your  grace. 
Glo.  Entreat  her  not  the  worse,  in  that  I  pray 
You  use  her  well :  the  world  may  laugh  again '" ; 
And  I  may  live  to  do  you  kindness,  if 
You  do  it  her.     And  so,  sir  John,  farewell. 

DucH.  What  gone,  my  lord ;   and  bid   me   not 
farewell  ? 

*  Glo.  Witness  my  tears,  I  cannot  stay  to  speak. 

[JL.vcunt  Gloster  and  Serjeants. 

*  DucH.  Art  thou  gone  too  ?    *  All  comfort  go 

with  thee  ! 

*  For  none  abides  with  me  :  my  joy  is — death  ; 

*  Death,  at  whose  name  I  oft  have  been  afear'd, 

*  Because  I  wish'd  this  world's  eternity. — 

*  Stanley,  I  pr'ythee,  go,  and  take  me  hence  ; 

*  I  care  not  whither,  for  I  beg  no  favour, 

*  Only  convey  me  where  thou  art  commanded. 

^  —  the  world  may  laugh  again  ;]     That  is.  The  world  may 
look  again  favourably  upon  me.     Johnson. 


232  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ii 

*  Stan.  Why,  madam,  that  is  to  the  isle  of  Man ; 

*  There  to  be  used  according  to  your  state. 

*  DucH.  That's  bad    enough,  for    I    am  but  re- 

proach : 

*  And  shall  I  then  be  us'd  reproachfully  ? 

*  Stax.  Like  to  a  duchess,  and  duke  Humphrey's 

lady, 

*  According  to  that  state  you  shall  be  used. 

*  DucH.  Sheriff,  farewell,  and  better  than  I  fare  ; 

*  Although  thou  hast  been  conduct  of  my  shame  ^ ! 

*  Sher.  It   is  my  office ;  and,   madam,    pardon 

me. 

*  DucH.    Ay,    ay,    farewell  ;    thy    office    is  dis- 

charg'd. — 

*  Come,  Stanley,  shall  we  go  ? 

'  Stan.  Madam,  your  penance  done,  throw  off 

this  sheet, 
'  And  go  we  to  attire  you  for  our  journey. 

'  Ducii.  My  shame  will  not  be  shifted  with  my 

sheet : 

*  No,  it  will  hang  upon  my  richest  robes, 

*  And  show  itself,  attire  me  how  I  can. 

*  Go,  lead  the  way ;  I  long  to  see  my  prison  ^. 

\_E.veunt. 


3  —  CONDUCT  of  my  shame  !]     i.  e.  conductor.   So,  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet : 

"  Come,  l)itter  conduct,  come,  unsavoury  guide." 
Again : 

"  And  fire-ey'd  fury  be  my  conduct  now."     Steevens. 
4—1   long  to  see   my  prison.]     This  impatience  of  a  high, 
spirit  is  very  natural.     It  is  not  so  dreadful  to  be  imprisoned,  as  it 
is  desirable  in  a  state  of  disgrace  to  be  sheltered  from  the  scorn 
of  gazers.     Johnson. 

This  is  one  of  those  touches  that  certainly  came  from  the  hand 
of  Shakspeare  ;  for  these  words  are  not  in  the  old  play.  Malone. 
Rowe,  in  Tamerlane,  has  put  a  similar  sentiment  in  the  mouth 
of  Bajazet : 

"  Come,  lead  me  to  my  dungeon  ;  plunge  me  down, 
'•  Deep  from  the  hated  sight  of  man  and  day  ; 


ACT  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  233 

ACT  III.     SCENE  I. 

The  Abbey  at  Bury. 

Enter  to  the  Parliament,  King  Henry,  Queen 
Margaret,  Cardinal  Beaufort,  Suffolk,  York, 
Buckingham,  and  Others. 

'  K.  Hex.  I   muse  ^  my  lord  of  Gloster  is  not 
come : 

*  'Tis  not  his  wont  to  be  the  hindmost  man, 

*  Whate'er  occasion  l^eeps  him  from  us  now. 

'  Q.  Mar.  Can  you  not  see  ?  or  will  you  not  ob- 
serve 

*  The  strangeness  of  his  alter'd  countenance  ? 

*  With  what  a  majesty  he  bears  himself; 

*  How  insolent  of  late  he  is  become, 

*  How  proud,   how  peremptory  ^  and  unlike  him- 

self ? 

*  We  know  the  time,  since  he  was  mild  and  affa- 

ble; 

*  And,  if  we  did  but  glance  a  far-off  look, 

*  Immediately  he  was  upon  his  knee, 

*  That  all  the  court  admir'd  him  for  submission : 
'  But  meet  him  now,  and,  be  it  in  the  morn, 

*  When  everyone  will  give  the  tim.e  of  day, 

*  He  knits  his  brow,  and  shows  an  angry  eye, 
'  And  passeth  by  with  stiff  unbowed  knee, 

*  Disdaining  duty  that  to  us  belongs. 

*  Small  curs  are  not  regarded,  when  they  grin  ; 

"  Where,  under  covert  of  the  friendly  darkness, 
"  My  soul  may  brood,  at  leisure,  o'er  its  anguish." 

BOSWELL. 

i  I  muse,]     i.  e.  I  wonder.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Do  not  7nuse  at  me,  my  most  worthy  friends." 

Steevens. 
^  —  peremptory,]     Old  copy,  redundantly  : 

♦' . hoxv  peremptory — ."     Steevens. 


234  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iiL 

But  great  men  tremble,  when  the  lion  roars  ; 
And  Humphrey  is  no  little  man  in  England. 
First,  note,  that  he  is  near  you  in  descent ; 
And  should  you  fall,  he  is  the  next  will  mount. 
Me  seemeth  ^  then,  it  is  no  policy, — 
Respecting  what  a  rancorous  mind  he  bears. 
And  his  advantage  following  your  decease, — 
That  he  should  come  about  your  royal  person. 
Or  be  admitted  to  your  highness'  council. 
By  flattery  hath  he  won  the  commons'  hearts  ; 
And,  when  he  please  to  make  commotion, 
'Tis  to  be  fear'd,  they  all  will  follow  him. 
Now  'tis  the  spring,  and  weeds  are  shallow-rooted ; 
Suffer  them  now,  and  they'll  o'ergrow  the  garden. 
And  choke  the  herbs  for  want  of  husbandry. 
The  reverent  care,  I  bear  unto  my  lord. 
Made  me  collect  ^  these  dangers  in  the  duke. 
If  it  be  fond  ^,  call  it  a  woman's  fear ; 
Which  fear  if  better  reasons  can  supplant, 
I  will  subscribe  and  say — I  wrong'd  the  duke. 
My  lord  of  Suffolk, — Buckingham., — and  York, — 
Reprove  my  allegation,  if  you  can  ; 
Or  else  conclude  my  words  effectual. 
*  SuF.  Well  hath  your  highness  seen  into  this 
duke  ; 
*  And,  had  I  first  been  put  to  speak  my  mind, 
I  think,  I  should  have  told  your  grace's  tale  \ 

7  Me  seemeth — ]  That  is,  it  seemeth  to  me,  a  word  more 
grammatical  than  methinkr.,  which  has,  I  know  not  how,  intruded 
into  its  place.     Johnson. 

*  —  collect — ]     i.  e.  assemble  by  observation.     Steevens. 
9  If  it  be  FOND,]     i.  e.   weak,  foolish.     So,  in  Coriolanus  : 

"  'Tis  /o«fif  to  wail  inevitable  strokes." 
Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens  : 

"  Why  Aofond  men  exjjose  themselves  to  battle  ?  " 

Steevens. 

•  — your  grace's  tale.]  Suffolk  uses  higliness  and  ^t^cc  promis- 
cuously to  the  Queen.  Majestij  was  not  the  settled  title  till  the 
time  of  King  James  the  First.     Johnson. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  236 

*  The  duchess,  by  his  subornation, 

*  Upon  my  life,  began  her  devilish  practices  : 

*  Or  if  he  were  not  privy  to  those  faults, 

*  Yet,  by  reputing  of  his  high  descent ', 

*  (As  next  the  king,  he  v/as  successive  heir,) 

*  And  such  high  vaunts  of  his  nobility, 

*  Did  instigate  the  bedlam  brain-sick  duchess, 

*  By  wicked  means  to  frame  our  sovereign's  fall. 
Smooth  runs  the  water,  where  the  brook  is  deep ; 

*  And  in  his  simple  show  he  harbours  treason. 
The  fox  barks  not,  when  he  would  steal  the  lamb. 
No,  no,  my  sovereign ;  Gloster  is  a  man 
Unsounded  yet,  and  full  of  deep  deceit. 

*  Car.  Did  he  not,  contrary  to  form  of  law, 

*  Devise  strange  deaths  for  small  offences  done  ? 

York.  And  did  he  not,  in  his  protectorship, 
^  Levy  great  sums  of  money  through  the  realm, 

*  For  soldiers'  pay  in  France,  and  never  sent  it  ? 

^  By  means  whereof,   the  towns  each  day  revolted. 

*  Buck.  Tut !  these  are  petty  faults  to  faults  un- 

known, 

*  Which  time  will  bring  to  light  in  smooth  duke 

Humphrey. 

*  K.  Hen.  My  lords,  at  once  :  The  care  you  have 

of  us, 

*  To  mow  down  thorns  that  would  annoy  our  foot, 

*  Is  worthy  praise :  But  shall  I  speak  my  conscience  ? 

*  Our  kinsman  Gloster  is  as  innocent 

*  From  meaning  treason  to  our  royal  person, 

*  As  is  the  sucking  lamb,  or  harmless  dove  : 

*  The  duke  is  virtuous,  mild ;  and  too  well  given, 

*  Yet,  by  reputing  of  his  high  descent,]  Thus  the  old  copy. 
The  modern  editors  read — repeating.  "  Reputing  of  his  high 
descent,"  is  valuing  himself  upon  it.  The  same  word  occurs  in 
the  5th  Act : 

"  And  in  my  conscience  do  repute  his  grace,"  &c. 

Steevens. 


236  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iiu 

*  To  dream  on  evil,  or  to  work  my  downfall. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Ah,  what's  more  dangerous  than  this 

fond  affiance ! 

*  Seems  he  a  dove  ?  his  feathers  are  but  borrow'd, 

*  For  he's  disposed  as  the  hateful  raven. 

*  Is  he  a  lamb  .^  his  skin  is  surely  lent  him, 

*  For  he's  inclin'd  as  are  the  ravenous  wolves, 

*  Who  cannot  steal  a  shape,  that  means  deceit  .^ 

*  Take  heed,  my  lord  ;  the  welfare  of  us  all 

*  Hangs  on  the  cutting  short  that  fraudful  man. 

Enter  S031ERSET.  "" 

*  SoM.   All  health  unto  my  gracious  sovereign ! 
K.  Hen.  Welcome,  lord  Somerset.     What  news 

from  France  ? 

*  SoM.  That  all  your  interest  in  those  territories 

*  Is  utterly  bereft  you  ;  all  is  lost. 

K.  Hen.  Cold  news,  lord  Somerset :  But  God's 

will  be  done  ! 
York.  Cold  news  for  me  ^ ;  for  I   had  hope  of 
France, 
As  firmly  as  I  hope  for  fertile  England. 

*  Thus  are  my  blossoms  blasted  in  the  bud, 
^  And  caterpillars  eat  my  leaves  away  : 

*  But  I  will  remedy  this  gear  *  ere  long, 

*  Or  sell  my  title  for  a  glorious  grave.  \_Aside. 

Enter  Gloster. 

*  Glo.  All  happiness  unto  my  lord  the  king  ! 

3  Cold  news  for  me;  &c.]  These  two  lines  York  had  spoken 
before  in  the  first  Act  of  this  play.  Me  is  now  meditating  on  his 
disappointment,  and  comparing  his  former  hopes  with  his  j)resent 

lass.       StE  EVENS. 

4  —  this  GEAR — ]  Gem-  was  a  general  word  for  things  or 
matters.     Johnson. 

tSo,  in  the  story  of  King  Darius,  an  interlude,  1565  : 
"  Wyll  not  yet  this  gere  be  amended, 
"  Nor  your  sinful  acts  corrected  ?  "     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  237 

Pardon  my  liege,  that  I  have  staid  so  long. 

SuF.  Nay,  Gloster,  know,  that  thou  art  come  too 
soon, 

*  Unless  thou  wert  more  loyal  than  thou  art : 
I  do  arrest  thee  of  high  treason  here. 

Glo.  Well,  Suffolk's  duke  \  thou  shalt  not  see  me 
blush. 
Nor  change  my  countenance  for  this  arrest ; 

*  A  heart  unspotted  is  not  easily  daunted. 

*  The  purest  spring  is  not  so  free  from  mud, 

*  As  I  am  clear  from  treason  to  my  sovereign : 
Who  can  accuse  me  ?  wherein  am  I  guilty  ? 

York.  'Tis  thought,  my  lord,  that  you  took  bribes 
of  France, 
And,  being  protector,  stayed  the  soldiers'  pay; 
By  means  whereof,  his  highness  hath  lost  France. 
Glo.  Is  it  but  thought  so  ?  What  are  they  that 
think  it  ? 
'  I  never  robb'd  the  soldiers  of  their  pay, 
'  Nor  ever  had  one  penny  bribe  from  France. 

*  So  help  me  God,  as  I  have  watch'd  the  night, — 

*  Ay,  night  by  night, — in  studying  good  for  Eng- 

land ! 

*  That  doit  that  e'er  I  wrested  from  the  king, 

*  Or  any  groat  I  hoarded  to  my  use, 

*  Be  brought  against  me  at  my  trial  day ! 

*  No !  many  a  pound  of  mine  own  proper  store, 

*  Because  I  would  not  tax  the  needy  commons, 


i  Well,  Suffolk,  YET — ]  Yet  was  added  in  the  second  folio. 
Mr.  Malone  reads — 

"  Well,  Suffolk's  duker  &c. 

But  this  is,  perhaps,  too  respectful  an  address  from  an  adver- 
sary. The  reading  of  the  second  folio  is,  in  my  opinion,  prefer- 
able, though  the  authority  on  which  it  is  founded  cannot  be  as- 
certained.    Steevens. 

The  first  folio  has—''  Well,  Suffolk,  thou—r  The  defect  of 
the  metre  shows  that  the  word  was  omitted,  which  I  have  sup- 
plied from  the  old  play.     Malone. 


238  SECOJVD  PART  OF  act  iiu 

'  Have  I  dispursed  to  the  garrisons, 
'  And  never  ask'd  for  restitution. 

*  Car.  It  serves  you  well,  my  lord,  to  say  so 

much. 

*  Glo.  I  say  no  more  than  truth,  so  help  me  God  ! 
YoBK.  In  your  protectorship,  you  did  devise 

Strange  tortures  for  offenders,  never  heard  of. 
That  England  was  defam'd  by  tyranny. 

Glo.  Why,  "tis  well  known,  that  whiles  I  was 
protector. 
Pity  was  all  the  fault  that  was  in  me  ; 

*  For  I  should  melt  at  an  offender's  tears, 

*  And  lov/ly  words  were  ransom  for  their  fault. 

*  Unless  it  were  a  bloody  murderer, 

*  Or  foul  felonious  thief  that  fleec'd  poor  passengers, 
'  I  never  gave  them  condign  punishment : 

*  Murder,  indeed,  that  bloody  sin,  I  tortur'd 
'  Above  the  felon,  or  what  trespass  else. 

*  SuF.  My  lord,   these  faults  are  easy^,  quickly 

answer'd : 

*  But  mightier  crimes  are  laid  unto  your  charge, 

*  Whereof  you  cannot  easily  purge  yourself. 

*  I  do  arrest  you  in  his  highness'  name ; 

*  And  here  commit  you  to  my  lord  cardinal 

*  To  keep,  until  your  further  time  of  trial. 

'  K,  Hen.    My  lord  of  Gloster,  'tis   my  special 
hope, 

*  That  you  will  clear  yourself  from  all  suspects  ^ ; 

6  — these  faults  are  easy,]  Easy  is  sligJit,  imonsideraUe,  as 
in  other  passages  of  this  author.     Johnson. 

See  vol.  xvi.  p.  209,  n,  5.     Boswell. 

The  word,  no  doubt,  means — easily.     Ritson. 

This  explanation  is,  I  believe,  the  true  one.  Easy  is  an  adjec- 
tive used  adverbially.     Steevens. 

1  — from  all  suspects;]  The  folio  reads — suspence.  The 
emendation  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Steevens.  The  corresponding 
line  in  the  original  play  stands  thus  : 

"  Good  uncle,  obey  to  this  arrest ; 

"  I  have  no  doubt  but  thou  shalt  clear  thyself."    Malone. 


sc.  J.  KING  HENRY  VI.  .      239 

My  conscience  tells  me,  you  are  innocent. 

Glo.  Ah,  gracious  lord,  these  days  are  dangerous! 

*  Virtue  is  chok'd  with  foul  ambition, 

*  And  charity  chas'd  hence  by  rancour's  hand  ; 

*  Foul  subornation  is  predominant, 

*  And  equity  exil'd  your  highness'  land. 

*  I  know,  their  complot  is  to  have  my  life ; 

*  And,  if  my  death  might  make  this  island  happy, 

*  And  prove  the  period  of  their  tyranny, 

*  I  would  expend  it  with  all  willingness : 

*  But  mine  is  made  the  prologue  to  their  play ; 

*  For  thousands  more,  that  yet  suspect  no  peril, 
'  Will  not  conclude  their  plotted  tragedy. 

*  Beaufort's  red  sparkling  eyes  blab  his  heart's  ma- 

lice, 
'  And  Suffolk's  cloudy  brow  his  stormy  hate ; 

*  Sharp  Buckingham  unburdens  with  his  tongue 
'  The  envious  load  that  lies  upon  his  heart ; 

'  And  dogged  York,  that  reaches  at  the  moon, 

*  Whose  overweening  arm  I  have  pluck'd  back, 

*  By  false  accuse  ^  doth  level  at  my  hfe : — 

*  And  you,  my  sovereign  lady,  with  the  rest, 

*  Causeless  have  laid  disgraces  on  my  head ; 

*  And  with  your  best  endeavour,  have  stirr'd  up 

*  My  liefest  ^  liege  to  be  mine  enemy  : — 

*  Ay,  all  of  you  have  laid  your  heads  together, 

*  Myself  had  notice  of  your  conventicles, 

'  I  shall  not  want  false  witness  to  condemn  me, 
'  Nor  store  of  treasons  to  augment  my  guilt ; 

So,  in  a  following  scene  : 

"  If  my  suspect  be  false,  forgive  me,  God  !  "     Steevens. 

8  —  accuse — ]     i.  e.  accusation.     Steevens. 

9  —  liefest — ]     Is  dearest.     Johnson. 
So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b,  ii.  Sc.  ii.  : 

"  ■    '      Madam,  my  lief, 

"  For  God's  dear  love,"  8^c. 
Again,  c.  ii. : 

"         ■  Fly,  oh  my  liefest  lord."     Steevens. 
See  p.  168,  n.  5.     Malone. 


240  SECOND  PART  OF  .jct  in. 

*  The  ancient  proverb  will  be  well  affected, — 
A  staff  is  quickly  found  to  beat  a  dog. 

*  C.-iR.  My  liege,  his  railing  is  intolerable  : 

*  If  those  that  care  to  keep  your  royal  person 

*  From  treason's  secret  knife,  and  traitors'  rage, 
^  Be  thus  upbraided,  chid,  and  rated  at, 

*  And  the  offender  granted  scope  of  speech, 

*  'Twill  make  them  cool  in  zeal  unto  your  grace. 
SuF.  Hath  he  not  twit  our  sovereign  lady  here, 

*  With  ignominious  words,  though  clerkly  couch'd, 

*  As  if  she  had  suborned  some  to  swear 

*  False  allegations  to  o'erthrow  his  state  ? 

'  Q.  M.iR.  But  I  can  give  the  loser  leave  to  chide. 
Glo.  Far  truer  spoke,  than  meant:  I  lose,  in- 
deed;— 

*  Beshrew  the  winners,  for  they  played  me  false ! 

*  And  well  such  losers  may  have  leave  to  speak. 
Buck.  He'll  wrest  t?ie  sense,  and  hold  us  here  all 

day: — 

*  Lord  cardinal,  he  is  your  prisoner. 

*  Car.  Sirs,  take  away  the  duke,  and  guard  him 

sure. 
Glo.    Ah,    thus  king   Henry   throws    away   his 
crutch, 
Before  his  legs  be  firm  to  bear  his  body : 

*  Thus  is  the  shepherd  beaten  from  thy  side, 

'  And  wolves  are  gnarling  who  shall  gnaw  thee  first. 

*  Ah,  that  my  fear  were  false  ^ !  ah,  that  it  were  ! 

*  For,  good  king  Henry,  thy  decay  I  fear. 

[E.veunt  Jltteiidants  xvith  Gloster, 
K.  Hen.  My  lords,  what  to  your  wisdoms  seem- 
eth  best, 

*  Ah,  that  my  fear  were  false !  &c.]  The  variation  is  here 
worth  noting.  In  the  original  play,  instead  of  these  two  lines,  we 
have  the  following : 

"  Farewell  my  sovereign  ;  long  may'st  thou  enjoy 

"  Thy  father's  liappy  days,  free  from  annoy !  "     Malone, 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  241 

Do,  or  undo,  as  if  ourself  were  here. 

Q.  Mar.  What,  will  your  highness  leave  the  par- 
liament ? 
K.  Hen.  Ay,   Margaret";  my  heart  is  drown'd 
with  grief, 

*  Whose  flood  begins  to  flow  within  mine  eyes ; 

*  My  body  round  engirt  with  misery; 

*  For  what's  more  miserable  than  discontent  .^ — 

*  Ah,  uncle  Humphrey  !  in  thy  face  I  see 

*  The  map  of  honour  ^  truth,  and  loyalty ; 

*  And  yet,  good  Humphrey,  is  the  hour  to  come, 

*  That  e'er  I  prov'd  thee  false,  or  fear'd  thy  faith. 

*  What  low'ring  star  now  envies  thy  estate, 

*  That  these  great  lords,  and  Margaret  our  queen, 

*  Do  seek  subversion  of  thy  harmless  life  ? 

*  Thou  never  didst  them  wrong,  nor  no  man  wrong: 

*  And  as  the  butcher  takes  away  the  calf, 

*  And  binds  the  wretch,  and  beats  it  when  it  strays*, 

*  Ay,  Margaret ;  &c,]  Of  this  speech  the  only  traces  in  the 
quarto  are  the  following  lines.  In  the  King's  speech  a  line  seems 
to  be  lost : 

"  Queen.  What,  will  your  highness  leave  the  parliament  ? 

"  King.  Yea,  Margaret;  my  heart  is  kill'd  with  grief; 

*  *  *  *  *  *°^t 

"  Where  I  may  sit,  and  sigh  in  endless  moan, 

"  For  who's  a  traitor,  Gloster  he  is  none." 
If,  therefore,  according  to  the  conjecture  already  suggested, 
these  plays  were  originally  the  composition  of  another  author,  the 
speech  before  us  belongs  to  Shakspeare.  It  is  observable  that 
one  of  the  expressions  in  it  is  found  in  his  Richard  II.  and  in  The 
Rape  of  Lucrece  ;  and  in  perusing  the  subsequent  lines  one  can- 
not help  recollecting  the  trade  which  his  father  has  by  some  been 
supposed  to  have  followed.     M alone. 

3  The  MAP  of  honour,]  In  King  Richard  II.  if  I  remember 
right,  we  have  the  same  words.     Again,  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  Showing  life's  triumph  in  the  7nap  of  death."    Malone. 

4  And  as  the  butcher  takes  away  the  calf. 

And  binds  the  wretch,  and  beats  it  when  it  strays,]   But  how 
can  it  strai/  when  it  is  bound?     The  poet  certainly  intended  when 
it  strives  ;  i.  e.  when  it  struggles  to  get  loose.     And  so  he  else- 
where employs  this  word.     Thirlby. 
VOI,.  XVllI.  R 


242  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ni. 

*  Bearing  it  to  the  bloody  slaughter-house ; 

*  Even  SO)  remorseless,  have  they  borne  him  hence. 

*  And  as  the  dam  runs  lowing  up  and  dovm, 

'*  Looking  the  way  her  harmless  young  one  went, 

*  And  can  do  nought  but  wail  her  darling's  loss ; 

*  Even  so  myself  bewails  good  Gloster's  case, 

*  With  sad  unhelpful  tears ;  and  with  dimm'd  eyes 

*  Look  after  him,  and  cannot  do  him  good ; 

*  So  mighty  are  his  vowed  enemies. 

*  His  fortunes  I  will  weep  ;  and,  'twixt  each  groan, 

*  Say — Who's  a  trait  or?  Gloster  he  is  none.    [E.vit. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Free  lords  ^,  cold  snow  melts  with  the 
sun's  hot  beams. 

*  Henry  my  lord  is  cold  in  great  affairs, 

*  Too  full  of  foolish  pity  :  and  Gloster's  show 

*  Beguiles  him,  as  the  mournful  crocodile 

*  With  sorrow  snares  relenting  passengers ; 


This  emendation  is  admitted  by  the  succeeding  editors,  and  I 
had  once  put  it  in  the  text.  I  am,  however,  inchned  to  believe 
that  in  this  passage,  as  in  many,  there  is  a  confusion  of  ideas,  and 
that  the  poet  had  at  once  before  him  a  butcher  carrying  a  calf 
bound,  and  a  butcher  driving  a  calf  to  the  slaughter,  and  beating 
him  when  he  did  not  keep  the  path.  Part  of  the  line  was  sug- 
gested by  one  image,  and  part  by  anothier,  so  that  strive  is  the 
best  word,  but  stray  is  the  right.     Johnson. 

There  needs  no  alteration.  It  is  common  for  butchers  to  tie  a 
rope  or  halter  about  the  neck  of  a  calf  when  they  take  it  away 
from  the  breeder's  farm,  and  to  beat  it  gently  if  it  attempts  to 
stray  from  the  direct  road.  The  Duke  of  Gloster  is  borne  away 
like  the  calf,  that  is,  he  is  taken  away  upon  his  feet;  but  he  is 
not  carried  away  as  a  burthen  on  horseback,  or  upon  men's  shoul- 
ders, or  in  their  hands.     TOLLET. 

5  Free  lords,  &c.]  By  this  she  means  (as  may  be  seen  by  the 
sequel)  you,  who  are  not  bound  up  to  such  precise  regards  of  re- 
ligion as  is  the  King;  but  are  men  of  the  world,  and  know  how  to 
live.     War  BURT  ON 

So,  in  Twelfth-Night : 

"  And  ihejfrce  maids  that  weave,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Milton : 

" thou  goddess  fair  and  Jree, 

"  In  heaven  yclep'd  Euphrosyne."     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  243 

*  Or  as  the  snake,  roU'd  in  a  flowering  bank  ^ 

*  With  shining  checker'd  slough,  doth  sting  a  child, 

*  That  for  the  beauty,  thinks  it  excellent. 

*  Believe  me,  lords,  were  none  more  wise  than  I, 

*  (And  yet,  herein,  I  judge  mine  own  wit  good,) 

*  This  Gloster  should  be  quickly  rid  the  world, 

*  To  rid  us  from  the  fear  we  have  of  him. 

*  Car.  That  he  should  die  is  worthy  policy ; 

*  But  yet  we  want  a  colour  for  his  death  : 

*  'Tis  meet  he  be  condemn'd  by  course  of  law. 

*  SuF.  But,  in  my  mind  that  were  no  policy : 

*  The  king  will  labour  still  to  save  his  life  ; 

*  The  commons  haply  rise  to  save  his  life  ; 

*  And  yet  we  have  but  trivial  argument, 

*  More  than  mistrust,  that  shows  him  worthy  death. 

*  York.  So  that,  by  this,  you  would  not  have 

him  die. 

*  SuF.  Ah,  York,  no  man  alive  so  fain  as  I. 

*  York.  'Tis  York  that  hath  more  reason  for  his 

death  ^. — 

*  But,  my  lord  cardinal,  and  you,  my  lord  of  Suf- 

folk,— 

*  Say,  as  you  think,  and  speak  it  from  your  souls, — 

*  Wer't  not  all  one,  an  empty  eagle  were  set 

*  To  guard  the  chicken  from  a  hungry  kite, 

^  —  IN  a  flowering  bank,]  i.  e.  in  the  flowers  growing  on  a 
bank.  Some  of  the  modern  editions  read  unnecessarily — on  a 
flowering  bank.     Malone. 

7  'Tis  York  that  hath  more  reason  for  his  death.]  Why  York  had 
more  reason  than  the  rest  for  desiring  Humphrey's  death,  is  not 
very  clear  ;  he  had  only  decided  the  deliberation  about  the  regency 
of  France  in  favour  of  Somerset.     Johnson. 

York  had  more  reason,  because  Duke  Humphrey  stood  between 
him  and  the  crown,  which  he  had  proposed  to  himself  as  the  ter- 
mination of  his  ambitious  views.     So,  p.  251 : 

"  For  Humphrey  being  dead,  as  he  shall  be, 

"  And  Henry  put  apart,  the  next  for  me."     Steevens. 

See  Sir  John  Fenn's  Observations  on  the  Duke  of  Suftblk's 
death,  in  the  collection  of  The  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  48. 

Henley. 

P.  2 


244  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

*  As  place  duke  Humphrey  for  the  king's  protector? 

Q.  Mar.  So  the  poor  chicken  should  be  sure  of 

death. 
*  SuF.  Madam,  'tis  true  :  And  wer't  not  madness 

then, 

*  To  make  the  fox  surveyor  of  the  fold  ? 

*  Who  being  accus'd  a  crafty  murderer, 

*  His  guilt  should  be  but  idly  posted  over, 

*  Because  his  purpose  is  not  executed. 

*  No  ;  let  him  die,  in  that  he  is  a  fox, 

*  By  nature  prov'd  an  enemy  to  the  flock, 

*  Before  his  chaps  be  stain  d  with  crimson  blood  ; 
'  As  Humphrey,  prov'd  by  reasons,  to  my  liege  ^ . 

^  No  ;  let  him  die,  in  that  he  is  a  fox. 
By  nature  prov'd  an  enemy  to  the  flock. 
Before  his  chaps  be  stain'd  with  crimson  blood  ; 
As  Humphrey,  prov'd  by  reasons,  to  my  liege.]     The  mean- 
ing of  the  speaker  is  not  hard  to  be  discovered,  but  his  expression 
is  very  much  perplexed.     He  means  that  the  fox  may  be  lawfully 
killed,  as  being  known  to  be  by  nature  an  enemy  to  sheep,  even 
before  he  has  actually  killed  them  ;  so  Humphrey  may  be  pro- 
perly destroyed,  as  being  prov'd  by  arguments  to  be  the  King's 
enemy,  before  he  has  committed  any  actual  crime. 

Some  may  be  tempted  to  read  treasons  for  reasons,  but  the 
drift  of  the  argument  is  to  show  that  there  may  be  reason  to  kill 
him  before  any  treason  has  broken  out.     Johnson. 

This  passage,  as  Johnson  justly  observes,  is  perplexed,  but  the 
perplexity  arises  from  an  error  that  ought  to  be  corrected,  which 
it  may  be  by  the  change  of  a  single  letter.  What  is  it  that 
Humphrey  proved  by  reasons  to  the  King? — This  line,  as  it  stands, 
is  absolutely  nonsense  : — But  if  we  read  Humphrey  s,  instead  of 
Hiimphreij,  and  reason  instead  of  reasons,  the.  letter  s  having  been 
transferred  through  inadvertency  from  one  word  to  the  other,  the 
meaning  of  Suffolk  will  be  clearly  expressed ;  and  if  we  enclose 
also  the  third  line  in  a  parenthesis,  the  passage  will  scarcely  re- 
quire either  explanation  or  comment : 

"  No  ;  let  him  die,  in  that  he  is  a  fox, 
"  By  nature  prov'd  an  enemy  to  the  flock, 
"  (Before  his  chaps  be  stain'd  with  crimson  blood) 
"  As  Humphrey's  prov'd  by  reason  to  my  liege." 
Suffolk's  argument  is  this: — As   Humphrey  is  the  next  heir  to 
the  crown,  it  is  as  imprudent  to  make  hira  protector  to  the  King, 
as  it  would  be  to  make  the  fox  surveyor  of  the  fold  ;  and  as  we 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  24^ 

*  And  do  not  stand  on  quillets  how  to  slay  him  : 

*  Be  it  by  gins,  by  snares,  by  subtilty, 

*  Sleeping,  or  waking,  'tis  no  matter  how, 

*  So  he  be  dead ;  for  that  is  good  deceit 

*  Which  mates  him  first,  that  first  intends  deceit  ^. 

*  Q.  M^R.    Thrice  noble  Suffolk,  'tis  resolutely 

spoke. 

*  SuF.  Not  resolute,  except  so  much  were  done ; 
=*  For  things  are  often  spoke,  and  seldom  meant : 

*  But,  that  my  heart  accordeth  with  my  tongue, — 

*  Seeing  the  deed  is  meritorious, 

*  And  to  preserve  my  sovereign  from  his  foe, — 

kill  a  fox  before  he  has  actually  worried  any  of  the  sheep,  be- 
cause we  know  that  by  nature  he  is  an  enemy  to  the  flock,  so  we 
should  get  rid  of  Humphrey,  because  we  know  that  he  must  be 
by  reaso7i  an  enemy  to  the  King.     M.  Mason. 

As  seems  to  be  here  used  for  like.     Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads,  with 
some  probability.  As   Humphreys  prov'd,  &c.     In  the  original 
play,  instead  of  these  lines,  we  have  the  following  speech  : 
"  Siif.  And  so  think  I,  madam  ;  for  as  you  know, 
"  If  our  king  Henry  had  shook  hands  with  death, 
"  Duke  Humphrey  then  would  look  to  be  our  king. 
"  And  it  may  be,  by  policy  he  works, 
"  To  bring  to  pass  the  thing  which  now  we  doubt, 
"  The  fox  barks  not,  when  he  would  steal  the  lamb ; 
"  But  if  we  take  him  ere  he  doth  the  deed, 
"  We  should  not  question  if  that  he  should  live. 
"  No,  let  him  die,  in  that  he  is  a  fox, 
"  Lest  that  in  living  he  offend  us  more."     Malone. 
Although  it  cannot  be  said  that  Humphrey  is  an  enemy  by  his 
nature  like  the  wolk,  reasons  or  ar<yuments  have  been  adduced 
which  put  it  equally  beyond  doubt,     Boswell. 
9  —  for  that  is  good  deceit 
Which  MATES  him  first,  that  first  intends  deceit,]     "  Mates 
him  "  means — that  first  puts  an  end  to  his  moving.     To  mate  is  a 
term  in  chess,  used  when  the  King  is  stopped  from  moving,  and 
an  end  put  to  the  game.     Percy. 

Mates  him,  means  confounds  him  ;  from  amatir  or  mater,  Fr. 
To  mate  is  no  term  in  chess.  Cliech  mate,  the  term  alluded  to, 
is  a  corruption  of  the  Persian  schah  mat ;  the  king  is  killed. 

RiTSON, 

2  o  mate,  I  believe,  means  here,  as  in  many  other  places  in  our 
author's  plays,  to  confound  or  destroy  ;  from  matar.  Span,  to  kill. 
See  vol,  xi.  p.  243,  n.  5.    Malone. 


246  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  Say  but  the  word,  and  I  will  be  his  priest  ^ 

*  Car.  But  I  would  have  him  dead,  my  lord  of 

Suffolk, 

*  Ere  you  can  take  due  orders  for  a  priest : 

*  Say,  you  consent,  and  censure  well  the  deed  \ 

*  And  I'll  provide  his  executioner, 

*  I  tender  so  the  safety  of  my  liege. 

*  SuF.  Here  is  my  hand,  the  deed   is  worthy 

doing. 

*  Q.  Mar.  And  so  say  I. 

*  York.  And  I :  and  now  we  three  "^  have  spoke  it, 

*  It  skills  not^  greatly  who  impugns  our  doom. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  Mess.  Great  lords  ^,  from  Ireland  am  I  come 

amain, 

'  —  I  will  be  his  priest.]     I  will  be  the  attendant  on   his  last 
scene  ;  I  will  be  the  last  man  whom  he  will  see.     Johnson. 

*  —  and  censure  well  the  deed,]  That  is,  approve  the  deed, 
judge  the  deed  good.     Johnson. 

3  — we  THREK — ]  Surely  the  word  three  should  be  omitted. 
The  verse  is  complete  without  it : 

"  And  so  say  I. 

"  And  I :  and  now  we  have  spoke  it — ." 
But  the  metre  of  these  plays  scarce  deserves  the  reformation 
which  it  too  frequently  requires.     Steevens. 

4  It  skills  not — ]     It  is  of  no  importance.     Johnson. 

So,  in  Sir  T.  More's  Utopia,  translated  by  R.  Robinson,  1624: 
"  I  will  describe  to  you  one  or  other  of  them,  for  it  sJdlleth  not 
greatly  which."     Malone. 

5  Great  lords,  &c.]  I  shall  subjoin  this  speech  as  it  stands  in 
the  quarto : 

"  Madam,  I  bring  you  news  from  Ireland, 
*'  The  wild  Onele,  my  lord,  is  up  in  arms, 
"  With  troops  of  Irish  kernes,  that  uncontroU'd 
"  Doth  plant  themselves  within  the  English  pale, 
"  And  burn  and  spoil  the  country  as  they  go." 
Surely  here  is  not  an  imperfect  exhibition  of  tlie  lines   in  the 
folio,  hastily  taken  down  in   the  theatre  by  the   ear  or  in  short- 
hand, as  I  once  concurred  with  others  in  thinking  to  be  the  case. 
We  have  here  an  original  and  distinct  draught ;  so  that  we  must 
be  obliged  to  maintain  tliat  Shakspeare  wrote   tiw  plays  on   the 
present  subject,  a  hasty  sketch,  and  a  more  finished  performance ; 


sc,  I,  KING  HENRY  VI.  247 

*  To  signify — that  rebels  there  are  up, 

*  And  put  the  Englishmen  unto  the  sword : 

*  Send  succours,  lords,  and  stop  the  rage  betime, 

*  Before  the  wound  do  grow  incurable  ; 

*  For,  being  green,  there  is  great  hope  of  help. 

*  C^R.  A  breach,  that  craves  a  quick  expedient 

stop  ^ ! 

*  What  counsel  give  you  in  this  weighty  cause  ? 

'  York.  That  Somerset  be  sent  as  regent  thither : 

*  'Tis  meet,  that  lucky  ruler  be  employ'd  ; 

*  Witness  the  fortune  he  hath  had  in  France. 

*  SoM.  If  York,  with  all  his  far-fet  policy, 

*  Had  been  the  regent  there  instead  of  me, 

*  He  never  would  have  staid  in  France  so  long. 

*  York.  No,  not  to  lose  it  all,  as  thou  hast  done : 

*  I  rather  would  have  lost  my  life  betimes, 

*  Than  bring  a  burden  of  dishonour  home, 

*  By  staying  there  so  long,  till  all  were  lost. 

*  Show  me  one  scar  character'd  on  thy  skin  : 

*  Men's  flesh  preserv'd  so  whole,  do  seldom  win. 

*  Q.  M^R.    Nay  then,  this  spark  will  prove  a 

raging  fire, 

*  If  wind  and  fuel  be  brought  to  feed  it  with  : — • 

*  No  more,  good  York ; — sweet  Son>erset,  be  still ; — 

*  Thy  fortune,  York,  hadst  thou  been  regent  there, 
^  Might  happily  have  prov'd  far  worse  than  his. 

York.  What,  worse  than  naught  ?  nay,  then  a 
shame  take  all ! 

*  SoM.  And,  in  the  number,  thee,  that  wishest 

shame  ! 

*  C.4R.  My  lord  of  York,  try  what  your  fortune  is. 

*  The  uncivil  Kernes  of  Ireland  are  in  arms, 

*  And  temper  clay  with  blood  of  Enghshmen : 

*  To  Ireland  will  you  lead  a  band  of  men, 

or  else  must  acknowledge,  that  he  formed  the  piece  before  us  on 
a  foundation  laid  by  another  writer.     Maloue. 

^  — EXPEDIENT  stop  !]     1.  6,  cxpeditious.     So,  in  King  John  : 
"  His  marches  are  expedient  to  this  town."     Steevens. 


248  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

*  Collected  choicely,  from  each  county  some, 

*  And  try  your  hap  against  the  Irishmen  ? 

*  York.   I  will,  my  lord,  so  please  his  majesty. 

*  SuF.  Why  our  authority  is  his  consent ; 

*  And  what  we  do  establish,  he  confirms : 

*  Then,  noble  York,  take  thou  this  task  in  hand. 

*  York.  I  am  content :  Provide  me  soldiers,  lords, 
'  Whiles  I  take  order  for  mine  own  affairs. 

*  SuF.  A  charge,  lord  York,  that  I  will  see  per- 

form'd ". 

*  But  now  return  we  to  the  false  duke  Humphrey. 

'  Car.  No  more  of  him  ;  for  I  will  deal  with  him, 

*  That  henceforth,  he  shall  trouble  us  no  more. 

*  And  so  break  off;  the  day  is  almost  spent : 

*  Lord  Suffolk,  you  and  I  must  talk  of  that  event. 

*  York.  My  lord  of  Suffolk,  within  fourteen  days, 

*  At  Bristol  I  expect  my  soldiers; 

'  For  there  111  ship  them  all  for  Ireland. 
Suf.  I'll  see  it  truly  done,  my  lord  of  York. 

\_Eieunt  all  but  York. 
'  York.  Now,  York,  or  never,  steel  thy  fearful 
thoughts, 

*  And  change  misdoubt  to  resolution : 

*  Be  that  thou  hop'st  to  be  ;  or  what  thou  art 

*  Resign  to  death,  it  is  not  worth  the  enjoying: 

*  Let  pale-fac  d  fear  keep  with  the  mean-born  man, 

*  And  tind  no  harbour  in  a  royal  heart. 

7  — that  I  will  see  perform'd.]     In  the  old  play  this  office  is 
given  to  Buckingham  : 

"  Queen.  my  lord  of  Buckingham, 

*'  Let  it  be  your  charge  to  muster  up  such. soldiers, 

"  As  shall  suffice  him  in  these  needful  wars.  ' 

'•'  Buck.  Madam,   I  will  ;  and  levy  such  a  band 
"  As  soon  shall  overcome  those  Irish  rebels  : 
"  But  York,  where  shall  those  soldiers  stay  for  thee  ? 
"  York.  At  Bristol  Til  expect  them  ten  days  hence. 
"  Buck.  Then  thither  shall  they  come,  and  so  farewell. 

"  [Exit  Buck." 
Here  again  we  have  a  very  remarkable  variation.     Malone. 


sc.  I.  KIXG  HEXHY  VI.  249 

*  Faster  than  spring-time  showers,  comes  thought 

on  thought ; 

*  And  not  a  thought,  but  thinks  on  dignity. 

*  My  brain,  more  busy  than  the  labouring  spider, 

*  Weaves  tedious  snares  to  trap  mine  enemies. 

*  Well,  nobles,  well,  'tis  politickly  done, 

*  To  send  me  packing  with  an  host  of  men : 

*  I  fear  me  you  but  warm  the  starved  snake, 

*  Who,  cherish Vi  in  your  breasts,  will  sting  your 

hearts. 
'Twas  men  I  lack'd,  and  you  \vill  give  them  me : 

*  I  take  it  kindly ;  yet,  be  well  assur'd 

'  You  put  sharp  weapons  in  a  madman's  hands. 
'  Whiles  I  in  Ireland  nourish  a  mighty  band, 

*  I  will  stir  up  in  England  some  black  storm, 

^  Shall  blow  ten  thousand  souls  to  heaven,  or  hell ; 

*  And  this  fell  tempest  shall  not  cease  to  rage 

*  Until  the  golden  circuit  on  my  head  % 

*  Like  to  the  glorious  sun's  transparent  beams, 

*  Do  calm  the  fury  of  this  mad-bred  flaw  '\ 

8  Until  the  golden  circuit  on  my  head,]     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  All  that  impedes  thee  from  the  golden  round, 
"  Which  fate  and  metaphysical  aid  doth  seem 
"  To  have  thee  cro-wn'd  withall." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II.  : 
"  ■  a  sleep 

"  That  from  this  rrdden  rigol  hath  divorc'd 
"  .So  many  English  kings."     M.\loke. 

9  —  mad-bred  flaw,]     Flaxu  Is  a  .sudden  violent  gust  of  wind. 

JoHKSON. 

Sir  Richard  Hawkins,  stating  the  danger  of  leaving  the  port- 
holes of  a  ship  open,  mentions  "  The  Great  Harr\%  Admirall  of 
England,  which  was  overset  and  sunke  at  Portsmouth,  with  her 
captain,  crew,  and  the  most  part  of  his  company  drowned  in  a 
goodly  summer's  day  with  a  little  Jlawe  of  udnd,  for  that  her 
ports  were  all  open  ;  and  making  a  small  hole,  by  them  entered 
her  destruction  ;  where,  if  they  had  been  shut,  no  wind  could 
have  hurt  her,  especially  in  that  place."  Observations  on  a  Voyage 
to  the  South  Sea,  A.  D.  1593,  London  1622,  p.  6.  I  have  tran- 
scribed this  passage  on  account  of  the  remarkable  affinity  of  the 
accident  recorded  in  it  to  the  unfortunate  los.s  of  Admiral  Kem- 


250  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ui. 

*  And,  for  a  minister  of  my  intent, 

*  I  have  seduc'd  a  head-strong  Kentishman, 

*  John  Cade  of  Ashford, 

*  To  make  commotion,  as  full  well  he  can, 

*  Under  the  title  of  John  Mortimer. 

*  In  Ireland  have  I  seen  this  stubborn  Cade 

*  Oppose  himself  against  a  troop  of  Kernes  ^ ; 

*  And  fought  so  long  '^,  till  that  his  thighs  with 

darts 

*  Were  almost  like  a  sharp-quill'd  porcupine  : 

*  And,  in  the  end  being  rescu'd,  I  have  seen  him 

*  Caper  upright  like  a  wild  Morisco  '\ 

penfelt  in  1782,  by  the  oversetting  of  the  Royal  George  at  Spit- 
head,  which  was  occasioned  by  the  same  neglect.     Blakeway. 

'  — a  troop  of  Kernes;]  Kernes  were  light-armed  Irish 
foot-soldiers.     Steevens. 

^  And  FOUGHT  so  long,]     Read — hxidijight  so  long.    Ritson. 

3  — a  wild  Morisco,]  A  Moor  in  a  military  dance,  now 
called  Morris,  that  is,  a  Moorish  dance.     Johnson. 

In  Albion's  Triumph,  a  Masque,  1631,  the  seventh  entry  con- 
sists of  mimicks  or  Moriscos. 

Again,  in  Marston's  What  You  Will,   1607  : 
"  Your  wit  skips  a  Morisco." 

The  Morris-dance  was  the  Tripudium  Mauritanicum,  a  kind 
of  hornpipe.  Junius  describes  it  thus:  "  —  faciem  plerumque 
inficiunt  fuligine,  et  peregrinum  vestium  cultum  assumunt,  qui 
ludicris  talibus  indulgent,  ut  Mauri  esse  videantur,  aut  e  longius 
remota  patria  credantur  advolasse,  atque  insolens  recreationis 
genus  advexisse." 

In  the  churchwardens'  accompts  of  the  parish  of  St.  Helen's 
in  Abington,  Berkshire,  from  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  Philip 
and  Mary,  to  the  thirty-fourth  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  Morrice 
bells  are  mentioned.  Anno  1560,  the  third  of  E^lizabeth, — "  For 
two  dossin  of  Morres  bells."  As  these  appear  to  have  been  pur- 
chased by  the  community,  we  may  suppose  this  diversion  was 
constantly  practised  at  their  public  festivals.  See  the  plate  of 
Morris-dancers  at  the  end  of  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV. 
with  Mr.  Toilet's  remarks  annexed  to  it.     Steevens. 

The  editor  of  the  Sad  Shepherd,  8vo.  1783,  p.  255,  mentions 
seeing  a  company  of  morrice-dancers  from  Abington,  at  Richmond 
in  Surrey,  so  late  as  the  summer  of  1783,  They  appeared  to  be 
making  a  kind  of  annual  circuit.     Reed. 

Morricc-danciiig,  with  bells  on  the  legs,  is  common  at  this  day 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  '251 

*  Shaking  the  bloody  darts,  as  he  his  bells. 

*  Full  often,  like  a  shag-hair'd  crafty  Kerne  ^ 

*  Hath  he  conversed  with  the  enemy ; 

*  And  undiscover'd  come  to  me  again, 

*  And  given  me  notice  of  their  villainies. 

*  This  devil  here  shall  be  my  substitute  ; 

*  For  that  John  Mortimer,  which  now  is  dead, 

*  In  face,  in  gait,  in  speech,  he  doth  resemble : 

*  By  this  I  shall  perceive  the  commons'  mind, 

'  How  they  affect  the  house  and  claim  of  York. 

*  Say,  he  be  taken,  rack'd,  and  tortured ; 

*  I  know,  no  pain,  they  can  inflict  upon  him, 

*  Will  make  him  say — I  mov'd  him  to  those  arms. 

*  Say,  that  he  thrive,  (as  'tis  great  like  he  will,) 

*  Why,  then  from  Ireland  come  I  with  my  strength, 

*  And  reap  the  harvest  which  that  rascal  sow'd : 

*  For,  Humphrey  being  dead,  as  he  shall  be, 

*  And  Henry  put  apart,  the  next  for  me  \       \_E.vit. 

in  Oxfordshire  and  the  adjacent  counties,  on  May-Day,  Holy- 
Thursday,  and  VVhitsun-ales,  attended  by  the  fool,  or,  as  he  is 
generally  called,  the  'Squire,  and  also  a  lord  and  lady ;  the  latter 
most  probably  the  Maid  Marian  mentioned  in  Mr.  Toilet's  note  : 
"  nor  is  the  hobby-horse  forgot."     Harris. 

4  —  like  a  shag-hair'd  crafty  Kerne,]     See  vol.  xi.  p.  215, 
n.  8  ;  and  p.  16,  n.  3.     Malone. 

5  For,  Humphrey  being  dead,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  couplet  we 
find  in  the  old  play  these  lines  : 

"  And  then  Duke  Humphrey,  he  well  made  away, 
"  None  then  can  stop  the  light  to  England's  crown, 
"  But  York  can  tame,  and  headlong  pull  them  down." 

Malone. 


252  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in, 

SCENE  II  \ 

Bury.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  certain  Murderers^  hastily. 

1  MuR.  Run  to  my  lord  of  Suffolk ;  let  him  know, 

*  We  have  despatch'd  the  duke,  as  he  commanded. 

*  2  MuR.  O,  that  it  were  to  do ! — What  have  we 

done  ? 

*  Didst  ever  hear  a  man  so  penitent  ? 

Enter  Suffolk. 

*  1  MuR.  Here  comes  my  lord. 

*  SuF.  Now,  sirs,  have  you 

*  Despatch'd  this  thing  ? 

.   *  1  MuR.  Ay,  my  good  lord,  he's  dead. 

*  SuF.  Why,  that's  well  said.     Go,  get  you  to  my 

house ; 

*  I  will  reward  you  for  this  venturous  deed. 

*  The  king  and  all  the  peers  are  here  at  hand  : — 

*  Have  you  laid  fair  the  bed  ?  are  all  things  well, 

*  According  as  I  gave  directions  ? 


^  Scene  II.]     This  scene,   and  the  directions  concerning  it, 
stand  thus  in  the  quarto  edition  : 

"  Then   the  curtaines  being  drnxvne,  DuJce  Humphrey  is  dis- 
covered in  his  bed,  and  tivo  men  lijing  on  his  brest,  and  smothering 
him  in  his  bed.     And  then  e^iter  the  Duke  of  Suffblke  to  them. 
"  Suff.  How  now,  sirs  !  what,  have  you  dispatcht  him  ? 
"  One.  I,  my  lord  :  he's  dead,  I  warrant  you. 
"  Suff.  Then  see  the  cloathes,  laid  smooth  about  him  still, 
"  That  when  the  king  comes,  he  may  perceive 
"  No  other,  but  that  he  dide  of  his  owne  accord. 
2.  "  All  things  is  handsome  now,  my  lord. 
"  Suff.  Then  draw  the  curtaines  againe,  and  get  you  gon, 
^'  And  you  shall  have  your  firme  reward  anon." 

"  [Exit  Murthcrers." 
Steevens. 


sc.  IT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  253 

*  1  MuR.  'Tis,  my  good  lord. 

*  SuF.  Away,  be  gone  !         [Exeunt  Murderers. 

Enter  King   Henry,  Queen  Margaret,  Cardinal 
Beaufort,  Somerset,  Lords,  and  Others. 

*  K.  Hen.    Go,    call  our  uncle  to  our  presence 

straight ; 

*  Say,  we  intend  to  try  his  grace  to-day, 

*  If  he  be  guilty,  as  'tis  published. 

*  SuF.  I'll  call  him  presently,  my  noble  lord. 

\_Ei'it. 
'  K.  Hen.  Lords,  take  your  places ; — And,  I  pray 
you  all, 

*  Proceed  no  straiter  'gainst  our  uncle  Gloster, 

*  Than  from  true  evidence,  of  good  esteem, 

*  He  be  approv'd  in  practice  culpable. 

*  Q.  Mar.  God  forbid  any  malice  should  pre- 

vail, 

*  That  faultless  may  condemn  a  nobleman  ! 

*  Pray  God,  he  may  acquit  him  of  suspicion  ! 

*  K.  Hen.  I  thank  thee,  Margaret ;  these  words 

content  me  much^ — 

7  I  thank  thee,  Margaret  ;  &c.]     In  former  editions  : 
"  I  thank  thee,  Nell,  these  words  content  me  much," 

This  is  King  Henry's  reply  to  his  wife  Margaret.     There  can  be 
no  reason  why  he  should  forget  his  own  wife's  name,  and  call  her 
Nell  instead  of  Margaret.     As  the  change  of  a  single  letter  sets 
all  right,  I  am  willing  to  suppose  it  came  from  his  pen  thus  : 
"  I  thank  thee.     Well,  these  words  content  me  much." 

Theobald, 

It  has  been  observed  by  two  or  three  commentators,  that  it  is 
no  way  extraordinary  the  King  should  forget  his  wife's  name,  as 
it  appears  in  no  less  than  three  places  that  she  forgets  it  herself, 
calling  herself  Eleanor.  It  has  also  been  said,  that,  if  any  con- 
traction of  the  real  name  is  used,  it  should  be  Meg.  All  this  is 
very  true  ;  but  as  an  alteration  must  be  made,  Theobald's  is  just 
as  good,  and  as  probable,  as  any  other.  I  have  therefore  retained 
it,  and  wish  it  could  have  been  done  with  propriety  without  a 
note.     Reed. 

Though  the  King  could  not  well  forget  his  wife's  name,  either 


254  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 


Re-enter  Suffolk. 

*  How  now  ?  why  look'st  thou  pale  ?  why  trem- 

blest  thou  ? 

*  Where  is  our  uncle  ?  what  is  the  matter,  Suffolk  ? 

SuF.  Dead  in  his  bed,  my  lord ;  Gloster  is  dead. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Marry,  God  forefend ! 

*  Car.  God's  secret  judgment: — I   did  dream  to- 

night, 

*  The  duke  was  dumb,    and  could    not   speak   a 

word.  [The  King  sxvoons. 

*  Q.  Mar.  How  fares  my  lord  ? — Help,  lords  !  the 

king  is  dead. 

*  SoM.  Rear   up  his   body  ;  wring  him  by  the 

nose  ^. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Run,  go,  help,  help  ! — O,  Henry,  ope 

thine  eyes  ! 

*  SuF.  He  doth  revive  again  ; — Madam,  be  pa- 

tient. 

*  K.  Hen.  O  heavenly  God  ! 

*  Q.  Mar.  How  fares  my  gracious  lord  ? 

SuF.  Comfort,  my  sovereign  !    gracious   Henry, 
comfort ! 


Shakspeare  or  the  transcriber  might.  That  Nell  is  not  a  mistake 
of  the  press  for  Well,  is  clear  from  a  subsequent  speech  of  the 
Queen's  in  this  scene,  where  Eleanor,  the  name  of  the  Duchess 
of  Gloster,  is  again  three  times  printed  instead  of  Margaret.  No 
reason  can  be  assigned  why  the  proper  correction  should  be  made 
in  all  those  places,  and  not  here.     Malone. 

I  have  admitted  Mr.  Malone's  correction  ;  and  yet  must  re- 
mark, that  while  it  is  favourable  to  sense  it  is  injurious  to  metre. 

Steevens. 

^  Som.  Rear  up  his  body,  wring  him  by  the  nose.]  As  no- 
thing further  is  spoken  either  by  Somerset  or  the  Cardinal,  or  by 
any  one  else,  to  show  that  they  continue  in  the  presence,  it  is  to  be 
presumed  that  they  take  advantage  of  the  confusion  occasioned 
by  the  King's  swooning,  and  slip  out  unperceived.  The  ne.xt 
news  we  hear  of  the  Cardinal,  he  is  at  the  point  of  death. 

RiTSON. 


sc.  IT,  KING  HENRY  VI.  255 

K.  Hen.  What,  doth  my  lord  of  Suffolk  comfort 
me  ? 
Came  he  right  now  ^  to  sing  a  raven's  note, 

*  Whose  dismal  tune  bereft  my  vital  powers  ; 
And  thinks  he,  that  the  chirping  of  a  wren, 

*  By  crying  comfort  from  a  hollow  breast, 

*  Can  chase  away  the  first-conceived  sound  ? 

*  Hide  not  thy  poison  with  such  sugar'd  words. 

*  Lay  not  thy  hands  on  me  ;  forbear,  I  say ; 

*  Their  touch  affrights  me,  as  a  serpent's  sting. 
Thou  baleful  messenger,  out  of  my  sight ! 

'  Upon  thy  eye -balls  murderous  tyranny 

*  Sits  in  grim  majesty,  to  fright  the  world. 

*  Look  not  upon  me,  for  thine  eyes  are  wounding : — 

*  Yet  do  not  go  away ; — Come,  basilisk, 

*  And  kill  the  innocent  gazer  with  thy  sight  ^ : 

*  For  in  the  shade  of  death  I  shall  find  joy  ; 

*  In  life,  but  double  death,  now  Gloster's  dead. 

Q.  Mar.  Why  do  you  rate  my  lord  of  Suffolk  thus  ? 

*  Although  the  duke  was  enemy  to  him, 

*  Yet  he,  most  christian-like,  laments  his  death  : 

*  And  for  myself, — foe  as  he  was  to  me, 

*  Might  liquid  tears,  or  heart-offending  groans, 

*  Or  blood-consuming  sighs  recall  his  life, 

*  I  would  be  blind  with  weeping,  sick  with  groans, 

*  Look  pale  as  primrose,  with  blood-drinking  sighs  "^^ 

9  —  right  now — ]     Just  now,  even  now.     Johnson. 
>  —  Come,  basilisk, 
And  kill  the  innocent  gazer  with  thy  sight :]     So,  in  Albion's 
England,  b.  i.  c.  iii.  : 

" As  iEsculap  an  herdsman  did  espie, 

"  That  did  with  easy  sight  enforce  a  basilisk  to  flye, 
"  Albeit  naturally  that  beast  doth  muvther  with  the  eye." 
,  Reed. 

So,  Mantuanus,  a  writer  very  popular  at  this  time  : 
Natus  in  ardentis  Libyae  basiliscus  arena, 
Vulnerat  aspectu,  luminibusque  nocet.     Malone. 
*  —  BLOOD-DRINKING  sighs,]     So,   In  the  Third  Part  of  this 
play,  Act  IV.  Sc.  IV. : 

"  And  stop  the  rising  of  blood-sucking  sighs."    Steevens. 


256  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

*  And  all  to  have  the  noble  duke  alive. 

*  What  know  I  how  the  world  may  deem  of  me  ? 

*  For  it  is  known,  we  were  but  hollow  friends  ; 

*  It  may  be  judg'd,  I  made  the  duke  away : 

*  So  shall    my    name    with   slander's  tongue  be 

wounded, 

*  And  princes'  courts  be  fill'd  with  my  reproach. 

*  This  get  I  by  his  death  :  Ah  me,  unhappy  ! 

*  To  be  a  queen,  and  crown'd  with  infamy  ! 

'  K.  Hen.  Ah,  woe  is  me  for  Gloster,  wretched 

man ! 
Q.  M.4R.  Be  woe  for  me^   more  wretched  than 
he  is. 
What,  dost  thou  turn  away,  and  hide  thy  face  ? 
I  am  no  loathsome  leper,  look  on  me. 

*  What,  art  thou,  like  the  adder,  waxen  deaf*  ? 


Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

*' dry  sorrow  drinks  our  blood."     Malone. 

3  Be  woe  for  me,]  That  is.  Let  not  woe  be  to  thee  for  Glos- 
ter, but  for  me.     Johnson. 

4  What,  art  thou,  like  the  adder,  waxen  deaf?]  This  allu- 
sion, which  has  been  borrowed  by  many  writers  from  the  Pro- 
verbs of  Solomon,  and  Psalm  Iviii.  may  receive  an  odd  illustra- 
tion  from  the  following  passage  in  Gower  de  Confessione  Amantis, 
b.  i.  fol.  X. : 

"  A  serpent,  whiche  that  aspidis 

"  Is  cleped,  of  his  kinde  hath  this, 

"  That  he  the  stone  noblest  of  all 

*'  The  whiche  that  men  carbuncle  call, 

"  Bereth  in  his  heed  above  on  hight ; 

"  For  whiche  whan  that  a  man  by  slight 

"  (The  stone  to  wynne,  and  him  to  dante) 

"  With  his  carecte  him  wolde  enchante, 

"  Anone  as  he  perceiveth  that, 

"  Heleyeth  dotvtie  his  one  eare  all  j)lat 

"  Unto  the grounde,  and  halt  it Jcist : 

"  And  eke  that  other  eare  alsjctste 

"  He  stoppeth  with  his  taille  so  sore 

"  That  he  the  ivordes,  lasse  nor  more, 

"  Oj'his  enchanteine?it  ne  heretli  : 

"  And  in  this  wise  him  selfe  he  skiereth. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  257 

*  Be  poisonous  too,  and  kill  thy  forlorn  queen. 

*  Is  all  thy  comfort  shut  in  Gloster's  tomb  ? 

*  Why,  then  dame  Margaret  was  ne'er  thy  joy  : 

*  Erect  his  statue  then,  and  worship  it, 

*  And  make  my  image  but  an  alehouse  sign. 
Was  I,  for  this,  nigh  wreck'd  upon  the  sea; 

*  And  twice  by  aukward  wind  ^  from  England's  bank 
'  Drove  back  again  unto  my  native  clime  ? 
What  boded  this,  but  well-forewarning  wind 

Did  seem  to  say, — Seek  not  a  scorpion's  nest, 

*  Nor  set  no  footing  on  this  unkind  shore  ? 

*  What  did  I  then,  but  curs'd  the  gentle  gusts  ^, 

*  And  he  that  loos'd  them  from  their  brazen  caves ; 

*  And  bid  them  blov/  towards    England's  blessed 

shore, 

*  Or  turn  our  stern  upon  a  dreadful  rock  ? 

*  Yet  yEolus  would  not  be  a  murderer, 

*  But  left  that  hateful  office  unto  thee  : 

*  The  pretty  vaulting  sea  refus'd  to  drown  me  ; 

*  Knowing,  that  thou  would'st  have  me  drown'd  on 

shore, 

*  With  tears  as  salt  as  sea  through  thy  unkindness  : 

"  So  that  he  hath  the  wordes  wayved, 
"  And  thus  his  eare  is  nought  deceived." 
Shakspeare  has  the  same  allusion  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 
"  Have  ears  more  decifthnn  adders,  to  the  voice 
"  Of  any  true  decision."     Steevens. 
5  —  awkward  wind — ]      Thus   the  old  copy.      The   modern 
editors  read — adverse  xvinds.     Steevens. 

The  same  uncommon  epithet  is  applied  to  the  same  subject  by 
Marlow  in  his  King  Edward  II. : 

"  With  aukivard  winds,  and  with  sore  tempests  driven 
"  To  fall  on  shore — ." 
So,  in  Drayton's  Epistle  from  Richard  II.  to  Queen  Isabell : 
"  And  undertook  to  travaile  dangerous  waies, 
"  Driven  by  axvhvard  ivinds  aiid  boisterous  seas." 

Malone, 
^  What  did  I  then,  but  curs'd  the  gentle  gusts,]     I  believe 
we  should  read — "  but  curse  the  gentle  gusts."     M.  Mason. 
VOL.  XVIII.  S 


258  SECOND  PART  OF  act  lu. 

*  The  splitting  rocks  cow'rd  in  the  sinking  sands  ^ 

*  And  would  not  dash  me  with  their  ragged  sides  ; 

*  Because  thy  flinty  heart,  more  hard  than  they, 

*  Might  in  thy  palace  perish  Margaret^. 

*  As  far  as  I  could  ken  thy  chalky  cliffs, 

*  When  from  the  shore  the  tempest  beat  us  back, 

*  I  stood  upon  the  hatches  in  the  storm : 

*  And  when  the  dusky  sky  began  to  rob 

*  My  earnest-gaping  sight  of  thy  land's  view, 

*  I  took  a  costly  jewel  from  my  neck, — 

"*  A  heart  it  was,  bound  in  with  diamonds, — 

*  And  threw  it  towards  thy  land  ; — the  sea  receiv'd 

it; 

*  And  so,  I  wish'd,  thy  body  might  my  heart : 

*=  And  even  with  this,  I  lost  fair  England's  view, 
^  And  bid  mine  eyes  be  packing  with  my  heart ; 

*  And  call'd  them  blind  and  dusky  spectacles, 

*  For  losing  ken  of  Albion's  wished  coast. 

*  How  often  have  I  tempted  Suffolk's  tongue 
*=  (The  agent  of  thy  foul  inconstancy,) 

*  To  sit  and  witch  me,  as  Ascanius  did, 

7  The  splitting  rocks,  &c.]  The  sense  seems  to  be  this. — 
•The  rocks  hid  themselves  in  the  sands,  which  sunk  to  receive 
them  into  their  bosom.'     Steevens. 

That  is,  the  rocks,  whose  property  it  is  to  split,  shrunk  into  the 
sands,  and  would  not  dash  me,  &c.     M.  Mason. 

So,  in  Othello : 

"  Tempests  themselves,  high  seas,  and  howling  vidnds, 

•'  The  gutter'd  rocks,  and  congregated  sands, 

"  Traitors  ensteep'd  to  clog  the  guiltless  keel, 

*'  As  having  sense  of  beauty,  do  omit 

"  Their  mortal  natures,  letting  go  safely  by 

"  The  divine  Desdemona."     Boswell. 

8  Might  in  thy  palace  PERISH  Margaret.]  The  verb  ;?m5/j  is 
here  used  actively.  Thus,  in  Froissart's  Chronicle,  cap.  ccclvi. : 
♦'  Syr  Johan  Arundell  their  capitayne  was  there  per^s/ie^/."  Again, 
in  The  Maid's  Tragedy,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 

" let  not  my  sins 

"  Pem/<  your  noble  youth."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  25^ 

*  When  he  to  madding  Dido,  would  unfold 

*  His  father's  acts,  commenc'd  in  burning  Troy^  ? 

*  Am  I  not  witch'd  like  her  ?  or  thou  not  false  like 

him  '  ? 

*  Ah  me,  I  can  no  more  !  Die,  Margaret ! 

*  For  Henry  weeps,  that  thou  dost  live  so  long. 


9  To  sit  and  witch  me,  as  Ascanius  did, 
When  he  to  madding  Dido,  would  unfold 
His  father's  acts,  commenc'd  in  burning  Troy  ?]     Old  copy, 
"  To  sit  and  ivatc/i  me,"  &c.     Steevens. 

The  poet  here  is  unquestionably  alluding  to  Virgil  (^neid  i.) 
but  he  strangely  blends  fact  with  fiction.  In  the  first  place,  it 
was  Cupid  in  the  semblance  of  Ascanius,  who  sat  in  Dido's  lap, 
and  was  fondled  by  her.  But  then  it  was  not  Cupid  who  related 
to  her  the  process  of  Troy's  destruction  ;  but  it  was  iEneas  him- 
self who  related  this  history.  Again,  how  did  the  supposed  Asca- 
nius sit  and  ivatch  her?  Cupid  was  ordered,  while  Dido  mis- 
takenly caressed  him,  to  bewitch  and  infect  her  with  love.  To 
this  circumstance  the  poet  certainly  alludes  ;  and,  unless  he  had 
wrote,  as  I  have  restored  to  the  text — 

"  To  sit  and  tvifch  me ," 

why  should  the  Queen  immediately  draw  this  inference — 
"  Am  I  not  tvitch'd  like  her?  "     Theobald. 
Mr.  Theobald's  emendation   is  supported  by  a  line   in    King 
Henry  IV.  Part  I.  where  the  same  verb  is  used : 

"  To  ivitch  the  world  with  noble  horsemanship." 
It  may  be  remarked,  that  this  mistake  was  certainly  the  mis- 
take of  Shakspeare,  whoever  may  have  been  the  original  author 
of  the  first  sketch  of  this  play;  for  this  long  speech  of  Margaret's 
is  founded  on  one  in  the  quarto,  consisting  only  of  seven  lines,  in 
which  there  is  no  allusion  to  Virgil.     Malone. 

When  Dido  was  caressing  the  supposed  Ascanius,  she  would 
naturally  speak  to  him  about  his  father,  and  would  be  tvitched  by 
what  she  learned  from  him,  as  well  as  by  the  more  regular  narra- 
tive which  she  had  heard  from  iEneas  himself.     Boswell. 

'  Am  I  not  witch'd  like  her  ?  or  thou  not  false  like  him  ?] 
This  line,  as  it  stands,  is  nonsense.  We  should  surely  read  it 
thus  : 

"  Am  I  not  witch'd  like  her?  Art  thou  not  false  like  him  ?  " 

M.  Mason. 
The  superfluity  of  syllables  in  this  line  induces  me  so  suppose 
it  stood  originally  thus  : 

*'  Am  I  not  witch'd  like  her?  thou  false  like  him  ?  " 

Steevens. 
s  2 


260  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

Noise  with'm.      Enter   Warwick   and   Salisbury, 
The  Commons  press  to  the  door. 

*  JVar.  It  is  reported,  mighty  sovereign, 

*  That  good  duke  Humphrey  traitorously  is  mur- 

der'd 

*  By  Suffolk  and  the  cardinal  Beaufort's  means. 

*  The  commons,  like  an  angry  hive  of  bees, 

*  That  want  their  leader,  scatter  up  and  down, 

*  And  care  not  who  they  sting  in  his  revenge. 

*  Myself  have  calm'd  their  spleenful  mutiny, 

*  Until  they  hear  the  order  of  his  death. 

K.  Hen.  That  he  is  dead,  good  Warwick,    'tis 
too  true ; 
But  how  he  died,  God  knows,  not  Henry  -  : 

*  Enter  his  chamber,  view  his  breathless  corpse, 

*  And  comment  then  upon  his  sudden  death. 

War.  That  I  shall  do,  my  liege  : — Stay,  Salis- 
bury, 
With  the  rude  multitude,  till  I  return. 

\JVARjricK  goes  into  an  inner  Room^  and 
Salisbury  retires. 

*  K.  Hen.  O  thou  that  judgest  all  things,   stay 

my  thoughts ; 

*  My  thoughts,  that  labour  to  persuade  my  soul, 

*  Some  violent  hands  were   laid   on   Humphrey's 

life! 

*  If  my  suspect  be  false,  forgive  me,  God ; 

*  For  judgment  only  doth  belong  to  thee  ! 

*  Fain  would  I  go  to  chafe  his  paly  lips 

*  With  twenty  thousand  kisses,  and  to  drain  ^ 

^  —  not  Henry :]     The  poet  commonly  uses  Henry  as  a  word 
of  three  syllables.     Johnson. 
3  —  and  to  drain 
Upon  — ]     This  is  one  of  our  poet's  harsh  expressions.     As 
when  a  thing  is  drain  d,  drops  of  water  issue  from  it,  he  licen- 
tiously uses  the  word  here  in  the  sense  of  dropping,  or  distilling. 

Malone. 


sc.ii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  261 

*  Upon  his  face  an  ocean  of  salt  tears ; 

*  To  tell  my  love  unto  his  dumb  deaf  trunk, 

*  And  with  my  fingers  feel  his  hand  unfeeling : 

*  But  all  in  vain  are  these  mean  obsequies ; 

*  And,  to  survey  his  dead  and  earthy  image, 
Wh  at  were  it  but  to  make  my  sorrow  greater  ? 

The  folding  Doors  of  an  inner  Chamber  are  thrown 
open,  and  Gloster  is  discovered  dead  in  his  Bed: 
JV^RrrjcK  and  others  standing  by  it  *. 

*=  War.  Come  hither,   gracious  sovereign,  view 
this  body. 

*  K.  Hen.  That  is  to  see  how  deep  my  grave  is 

made : 

*  For,  with  his  soul,  fled  all  my  worldly  solace  ; 

*  For  seeing  him,  1  see  my  life  in  death  ^. 

Surely  our  author  wrote  rain,   not  drain.     The  discharge  of  a 
single  letter  furnishes  wliat  seems  to  me  a  necessary  emendation, 
confirmed  by  two  passages,  one  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew: 
"  To  rain  a  shower  of  commanded  tears." 
And  another,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. : 

"  To  rain  iqmn  remembrance  with  mine  eyes." 

Steevens. 

*  This  stage-direction  I  have  inserted  as  best  suited  to  the  ex- 
hibition. The  stage-direction  in  the  quarto  is — "  Warwick  draws 
the  curtaines,  [i.  e.  draws  them  open]  and  shows  Duke  Hum- 
phrey in  his  bed,"  In  the  folio  :  "  A  bed  with  Gloster's  body  put 
forth."  These  are  some  of  the  many  circumstances  which  prove, 
I  think,  decisively,  that  the  theatres  of  our  author's  time  were 
unfurnished  with  scenes.  In  those  days,  as  I  conceive,  curtains 
were  occasionally  hung  across  the  middle  of  the  stage  on  an  iron 
rod,  which,  being  drawn  open,  formed  a  second  apartment,  when 
a  change  of  scene  was  required.  The  direction  of  the  folio,  "  to 
put  forth  a  bed,"  was  merely  to  the  property-man  to  thrust  a  bed 
forwards  behind  those  curtains,  previous  to  their  being  drawn 
open.     See  the  Account  of  our  ancient  Theatres,  vol.  iii. 

Malone. 
^  For  seeing  him,  I  see  my  life  in  death.]     Though,   by  a  vio- 
lent operation,  some  sense  may  be  extracted  from  this  reading, 
yet  I  think  it  will  be  better  to  change  it  thus  : 

•'  For  seeing  him,  I  see  my  death  in  life." 


262  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

*  IK^R.  As  surely  as  my  soul  intends  to  live 

*  With  that  dread  King  that  took  our  state  upon  him 

*  To  free  us  from  his  Father's  wrathful  curse, 

*  I  do  believe  that  violent  hands  were  laid 

*  Upon  the  life  of  this  thrice-famed  duke. 

SuF.    A  dreadful   oath,    sworn    with   a  solemn 
tongue ! 

*  What  instance  gives  lord  Warwick  for  his  vow  ? 

'  TV^R.  See,  how  the  blood  is  settled  in  his  face  ! 
Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely-parted  ghost  ^, 

That  is,  Seeing  him  I  live  to  see  my  own  destruction.  Thus  it 
will  aptly  correspond  with  the  first  line  : 

"  Come  hither,  gracious  sovereign,  view  this  body. 

"  K.  Hen.  That  is  to  see  how  deep  my  grave  is  made." 

Johnson. 
Surely  the  poefs  meaning  is  obvious  as  the  words  now  stand. — 
•'  I  see  my  life  destroyed  or  endangered  by  his  death."     Percy, 

I  think  the  meaning  is,  I  see  my  life  in  the  arms  of  death;  I 
see  my  life  expiring,  or  rather  expired.  The  conceit  is  much  in 
our  authors  manner.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" the  death  of  each  day's  life." 

Our  poet  in  King  Richard  III.  has  a  similar  play  of  words, 
though  the  sentiment  is  reversed  : 

" even  through  the  hollow  eyes  of  death 

"  I  spy  life  peering."     Malone. 
^  Oft  have  I  seen  a  TiMEi.v-parted  ghost,  &c.]     All  that  is 
true  of  the  body  of  a  dead  man  is   here  said  by  Warwick   of  the 
soul.     I  would  read  : 

"  Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely-parted  corse." 
But  of  two  common  words  how  or  why  was  one  changed  for 
the  other?  I  believe  the  transcriber  thought  that  the  epithet 
iimelij -parted  could  not  be  used  of  the  body,  but  that,  as  in 
Hamlet  there  is  mention  of  peace-parted  souls,  so  here  timelij- 
parted  mwaiXvAwe  the  same  substantive.  He  removed  one  imagi- 
nary difficulty,  and  made  many  real.  If  the  soul  is  parted  from 
the  body,  the  body  is  likewise  parted  from  the  soul. 

I  cannot  but  stop  a  moment  to  observe,  that  this  horrible  de- 
scription is  scarcely  the  work  of  any  pen  but  Shakspeare's. 

Johnson. 
This  is  not   the  first  time  that  Shakspeare   has  confounded  the 
terms  that  signify  bodij  and  soul,  together.     So,  in  A  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream  : 


sc.  Ji.  KING  HENRY  VI.  263 

*  Of  ashy  semblance  ^,   meager,  pale,  and  blood- 
less, 

damned  spirits  all 


"  That  in  cross  ways  and  floods  have  burial." 
It  is  surely  the  bodj/  and  not  the  soul  that  is  committed  to  the 
earth,  or  whelmed  in  the  water.  The  word  ghost,  however,  is 
licentiously  used  by  our  ancient  writers.  In  Spenser's  Fairy 
Queen,  b.  ii.  c.  viii.  Sir  Guijon  is  in  a  swoon,  and  two  knights  are 
about  to  strip  him,  when  the  Palmer  say  a  : 

" no  knight  so  rude  I  weene, 

"  As  to  doen  outrage  to  a  sleeping  ghost." 
Again,  in  the  short  copy  of  verses  printed  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  three  first  books  of  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  1596  : 

"  And  grones  of  buried  ghostcs  the  heavens  did  perse." 
Again,  in  our  author's  King  Richard  II. : 
"  The  ghosts  they  have  depos'd." 
Again,  in  Sir  A.  Gorges's  translation  of  Lucan,  b.  ix.  : 

" a  peasant  of  that  coast 

"Bids  him  not  tread  on  Vleciors ghost." 
Again,  in   Certain  Secret  Wonders  of  Nature,  &c.  by  Edward 
Fenton,  quarto,   bl.  1.  If^i^D:   "  —  astonished   at  the  view  of  the 
mortified  o/i05^  of  him  that  lay  dead,"  &c.  p.  104.     Steevens. 

A  timel {/-parted  ghost  means  a  bodi/  that  has  become  inanimate 
in  the  common  course  of  nature;  to  which  violence  has  not  brought 
a  timeless  end.  The  opposition  is  plainly  marked  afterwards,  by 
the  words — "  As  guilty  of  duke  Humphrey's  timeless  death." 

The  corresponding  lines  appear  thus  in  the  quarto  ;  by  which, 
if  the  notion  that  has  been  already  suggested  be  well  founded,  the 
reader  may  see  how  much  of  this  deservedly  admired  speech  is 
original,  and  how  much  super-induced  : 

"  Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely-parted  ghost, 
"  Of  ashy  semblance,  pale,  and  bloodless  : 
*'  But,  lo  !   the  blood  is  settled  in  his  face, 
"  More  better  coloured  than  when  he  liv'd. 
"  His  well  proportion'd  beard  made  rough  and  stern 
"  His  fingers  spread  abroad,  as  one  that  grasp'd 
"For  life,  yet  was  bv  strength  surpriz'd.     The  least        * 
"  Of  these  are  probable.     It  cannot  choose 
"  But  he  was  murthered." 
In  a  subsequent  passage,  also  in  the  original  play,  w-hich  Shak- 
speare  has  not  transferred  into  his  piece,   the  word  ghost  is  agair» 
used  as  here.     Young  Cliflbrd  addressing  himself  to  his  father's 
dead  bodij,  savs  : 

"  A  dismal  sight !  sec,  where  he  breathless  lies, 
"  All  smear'd  and  welter'd  in  his  luke-warm  blood  ! 
"  Sweet  father,  to  thy  tnurder'd  ghost  I  swear,"  &c. 


264  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  Being  all  descended  to  the  labouring  heart  ^ ; 
'  Who,  in  the  conflict  that  it  holds  with  death, 

*  Attracts  the  same  for  aidance  'gainst  the  enemy ; 
'  Which  with  the  heart  there  cools  and  ne'er  re- 
turn eth 

*  To  blush  and  beautify  the  cheek  again. 

*  But,  see,  his  face  is  black,  and  full  of  blood  ; 
'  His  eye -balls  further  out  than  when  he  liv'd, 
'  Staring  full  ghastly  like  a  strangled  man  : 

*  His    hair    uprear'd,    his    nostrils    stretch'd    with 

struggling  ; 
'  His  hands  abroad  display'd  '\  as  one  that  grasp'd 
'  And  tugg'd  for  hfe,  and  was  by  strength  subdu'd. 

*  Look  on  the  sheets,  his  hair,  you  see,  is  sticking ; 
'  His    well-proportion'd    beard    made   rough    and 

rugged, 

*  Like  to  the  summer's  corn  by  tempest  lodg'd. 

Our  author  therefore  is  not  chargeable  here  with  any  impro- 
priety, or  confusion.  He  has  only  used  the  phraseology  of  his 
time.     Malone. 

It  has  been  very  plausibly  suggested  that  timelij -■parted  signifies 
in  f  roper  time,  as  opposed  to  tuneless  ;  yet  in  this  place  it  seems 
to  mean  early,  recently,  nevcly.  Thus,  in  Macbeth,  Act  II. 
Sc.  III.  : 

"  He  did  command  me  to  call  timely  on  him." 
Again,  in  The  Unfaithful  Lover's  Garland  : 
"  Says  he,   I'll  rise  ;  says  she,   I  scorn 
"  To  be  so  timely  parted."     Douce. 
7  Of  ASHY   semblance,]     So  Spenser,    Ruins   of  Rome,   4to. 
1591: 

"  Ye  pallid  spirits,  and  ye  ashy  ghosts — ."     Malone. 

^ BLOODLESS, 

Being  all  descended  to  the  labouring  heart ;]  That  is,  the 
blood  being  all  descended,  &c. ;  the  substantive  being  comprised 
in  the  adjective  bloodless.     M.  Mason. 

9  His  hands  abroad  display'd,]  i,  e.  the  fingers  being  widely 
distended.  So  adotvn,  for  down  ;  aweary,  for  iveary,  &c.  See 
Peacham's  Complete  Gentleman,  1627 :  "  Herein  was  the  Em- 
peror Domitian  so  cunning,  that  let  a  boy  at  a  good  distance  off 
hold  up  his  hand  and  stretch  his  fingers  abroad,  he  would  shoot 
through  the  spaces,  without  touching  the  boy's  hand,  or  any 
finger."     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  265 

*  It  cannot  be,  but  he  was  murder'd  here  ; 

'  The  least  of  all  these  signs  were  probable. 

*  SuF.  Why,  Warwick,  who  should  do  the  duke 

to  death  ? 

*  Myself,  and  Beaufort,  had  him  in  protection ; 
'  And  we,  I  hope,  sir,  are  no  murderers. 

*  War.  But  both  of  you  were  vow'd  duke  Hum- 

phrey's foes ; 

*  And  you,  forsooth,  had  the  good  duke  to  keep  : 
'  'Tis  like,  you  would  not  feast  him  like  a  friend  ; 
'  And  'tis  well  seen  he  found  an  enemy. 

'  Q.  M.m.  Then  you,  behke,  suspect  these  noble- 
men 

*  As  guilty  of  duke  Humphrey's  timeless  death. 

JV.4R.  Who  finds  the  heifer  dead,  and  bleeding 
fresh. 
And  sees  fast  by  a  butcher  with  an  axe. 
But  will  suspect,  'twas  he  that  made  the  slaughter  ? 
Who  finds  the  partridge  in  the  puttock's  nest. 
But  may  imagine  how  the  bird  was  dead, 
Although  the  kite  soar  with  unbloodied  beak  ? 
Even  so  suspicious  is  this  tragedy. 

'  Q.  M.iR.  Are  you  the  butcher,  Suffolk ;  where's 
your  knife  ? 
Is  Beaufort  term'd  a  kite  ?  where  are  his  talons  ? 
SuF.    I    wear  no    knife,    to    slaughter   sleeping 
men; 
But  here's  a  vengeful  sword,  rusted  with  ease. 
That  shall  be  scoured  in  his  rancorous  heart. 
That  slanders  me  with  murder's  crimson  badge  : — 
Say,  if  thou  dar'st,  proud  lord  of  Warwickshire, 
That  I  am  faulty  in  duke  Humphrey's  death. 

[Exeunt  Cardmal,  Som.  and  Others. 
TVar.  What  dares  not  Warwick,  if  false  Suffolk 

dare  him  ? 
Q.  Mar.    He   dares  not  calm  his  contumelious 
spirit, 


266  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ///. 

Nor  cease  to  be  an  arrogant  controller, 

Though  Suffolk  dare  him  twenty  thousand  times. 

War.  Madam,  be  still ;  with  reverence  may  I  say : 
For  every  word,  you  speak  in  his  behalf, 
Is  slander  to  your  royal  dignity. 

*  SuF.  Blunt-witted  lord,  ignoble  in  demeanour  ! 
If  ever  lady  wrong'd  her  lord  so  much, 

Thy  mother  took  into  her  blameful  bed 
Some  stern  untutor'd  churl,  and  noble  stock 
Was  graft  with  crab-tree  slip ;  whose  fruit  thou  art. 
And  never  of  the  Nevils'  noble  race. 

War.  But  that  the  guilt    of   murder    bucklers 
thee. 
And  I  should  rob  the  deathsman  of  his  fee. 
Quitting  thee  thereby  of  ten  thousand  shames. 
And  that  my  sovereign's  presence  makes  me  mild, 
I  would,  false  murderous  coward,  on  thy  knee 
Make  thee  beg  pardon  for  thy  passed  speech. 
And  say — it  was  thy  mother  that  thou  meant'st, 
That  thou  thyself  wast  born  in  bastardy : 
And,  after  all  this  fearful  homage  done, 
Give  thee  thy  hire,  and  send  thy  soul  to  hell. 
Pernicious  bloodsucker  of  steeping  men  ! 

SvF.    Thou  shalt  be  waking,  while  I  shed  thy 
blood, 
If  from  this  presence  thou  dar'st  go  with  me. 

War.    Away    even    now,    or    I    will  drag  thee 
hence  : 

*  Unworthy  though  thou  art,  I'll  cope  with  thee, 

*  And  do  some  service  to  duke  Humphrey's  ghost. 

\Excunt  Suffolk  and  JVarjj'ick. 

*  K.  Hen.    What  stronger  breast-plate  than  a 

heart  untainted  ? 

*  Thrice  is  he  arm'd,  that  hath  his  quarrel  just  ^ ; 

^  Thrice  is  he  arm'd,  &c.]     So,  in  Marlow's  Lust's  Dominion  : 
"  Come,  Moor;   I'm  arm'd  wih  more  than  complete  steel, 
"  T\\Q  justice  of  my  quarrel."     Malone, 


sc,  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  267 

*  And  he  but  naked,  though  lock'd  up  in  steel, 

*  Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted. 

\_A  Noise  within. 
Q.  M.JR.  What  noise  is  this  ? 

Re-enter  Suffolk  and  Wartt'ick,  with  their 
Weapons  drawn. 

*  K.  Hen.  Why,  how  now,  lords  ?  your  wrathful 

weapons  drawn 

*  Here  in  our  presence  ?  dare  yon  be  so  bold  ? — 

*  Why,  what  tumultuous  clamour  have  we  here  ? 

SuF.  The  traitorous  Warwick,  with  the  men  of 
Bury, 
Set  all  upon  me,  mighty  sovereign. 

Noise  of  a  Croud  within.     Re-enter  Salisbury. 

*  Sal.  Sirs,  stand  apart  ;  the  king  shall  know 

your  mind. —    [Speaking  to  those  within. 
Dread  lord,  the  commons  send  you  word  by  me, 
Unless  false  Suffolk  straight  be  done  to  death, 
Or  banished  fair  England's  territories, 

*  They  will  by  violence  tear  him  from  your  palace, 

*  And  torture  him  v/ith  grievous  ling'ring  death, 
They  say,  by  him  the  good  duke  Humphrey  died  ; 

*  They  say,  in  him  they  fear  your  highness'  death  ; 

*  And  mere  instinct  of  love,  and  loyalty, — 

*  Free  from  a  stubborn  opposite  intent, 

*  As  being  thought  to  contradict  your  liking, — 

*  Makes  them  thus  forward  in  his  banishment. 

*  *  They  say,  in  care  of  your  most  royal  person, 

*  That,  if  your  highness  should  intend  to  sleep, 

*  And  charge — that  no  man  should  disturb  your 

rest, 
*"  In  pain  of  your  dishke,  or  pain  of  death  ; 

*  Yet  notwithstanding  such  a  strait  edict, 

*  Were  there  a  serpent  seen,  with  forked  tongue, 

*  That  slily  glided  towards  your  majesty. 


268  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iiu 

*  It  were  but  necessary,  you  were  wak'd ; 

*  Lest,  being  suffered  in  that  harmful  slumber, 

*  The  mortal  worm  '^  might  make  the  sleep  eternal : 

*  And  therefore  do  they  cry,  though  you  forbid, 

*  That  they  will  guard  you,  whe'r  you  will,  or  no, 

*  From  such  fell  serpents  as  false  Suffolk  is ; 

*  With  whose  envenomed  and  fatal  sting, 

*  Your  loving  uncle,  twenty  times  his  worth, 

*  They  say,  is  shamefully  bereft  of  life. 

CoMMOxs.   [IVith'm.']  An   answer  from  the  king, 

my  lord  of  Salisbury. 
SuF.  'Tis  like,    the  commons,    rude   unpolish'd 
hinds. 
Could  send  such  message  to  their  sovereign  : 
But  you,  my  lord,   were  glad  to  be  employed. 
To  show  how  quaint  an  orator  *  you  are  : 
But  all  the  honour  Salisbury  hath  won. 
Is — that  he  was  the  lord  ambassador. 
Sent  from  a  sort  ^  of  tinkers  to  the  king. 

CoMMoxs.   [JFitfnnr\  An  answer  from  the  king, 

or  we  11  all  break  in. 
'  K,  Hex.  Go,   Salisbury,  and  tell  them  all  from 
me, 

*  I  thank  them  for  their  tender  loving  care  : 

*  And  had  I  not  been  'cited  so  by  them. 


3  The  MORTAL  WORM — ]     i.  c.  the  Jhfal,  the  deadly  vioxva. 
So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale  : 

"  This  news  is  mortal  to  the  queen." 
SerpeTits  in  general,  were  anciently  called  toor»?s.     So,  in  The 
Devil's  Charter,  1607,  Pope  Alexander  says,  when  he  takes  off 
the  aspicks  from  the  young  princes  : 

"  How  now,  proud  worms  ?  how  tastes  yon  princes'  blood?  " 

Steevens. 
^  —  how  auAiNT  an  orator — ]      Quaint   for   dextrous,   artifi- 
cial.    So,   in  The   Two   Gentlemen   of  Verona:    "  —  a  ladder 
quaintly  made  of  cords."     Malone. 

5  —  a  sort — ]     Is  a  company.     Johnson. 
So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  : 

" russet-pated  choughs,  many  in  sort"     Steevens, 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  269 

*  Yet  did  I  purpose  as  they  do  entreat ; 

*  For  sure,  my  thoughts  do  hourly  prophesy 

*  Mischance  unto  my  state  by  Suffolk's  means. 

*  And  therefore, — by  His  majesty  I  swear, 

*  Whose  far  unworthy  deputy  I  am, — 

*  He  shall  not  breathe  infection  in  this  air  ^ 

*  But  three  days  longer,  on  the  pain  of  death. 

\_Exit  Salisbury. 

*  Q.  Mar.    O   Henry,  let  me  plead   for  gentle 

Suffolk ! 

*  K.  Hen.  Ungentle  queen,  to  call  him  gentle 

Suffolk. 

*  No,  more,  I  say ;  if  thou  dost  plead  for  him, 

*  Thou  wilt  but  add  increase  unto  my  wrath. 

*  Had  I  but  said,  I  would  have  kept  my  word ; 

*  But,  when  I  swear,  it  is  irrevocable  : — 

*  If,  after  three  days'  space,   thou  here  be'st  found 

*  On  any  ground  that  I  am  ruler  of, 

*  The  world  shall  not  be  ransom  for  thy  Hfe. — 

*  Come,  Warwick,  come,  good  Warwick,  go  with 

me ; 

*  I  have  great  matters  to  impart  to  thee. 

[Exeunt  K.  Henry,  Wartfick^  Lords,  8^c. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Mischance,  and  sorrow,  go  along  with 

you  ^ ! 

*  Heart's  discontent,  and  sour  affliction, 

*  Be  playfellows  to  keep  you  company ! 

*  There's  two  of  you ;  the  devil  make  a  third  ! 

*  And  threefold  vengeance  tend  upon  your  steps  ! 

*  SuF.  Cease,  gentle  queen,  these  execrations, 

*  And  let  thy  Suffolk  take  his  heavy  leave. 

^  He  shall  not  breathe  infection  in  this  air — ]     That  is,  he 
shall  not  contaminate  this  air  with  his  infected  breath.    Malone. 
7  Mischance,  and  sorrow,  &c.]     In  the  original  play  the  queen 
is  still  more  violent : 

"  Hell-fire  and  vengeance  go  along  with  you  !  " 

Malone. 


270  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iiu 

*  Q.  Mar.  Fye,  coward  woman,  and  soft-hearted 
wretch ! 

*  Hast  thou  not  spirit  to  curse  thine  enemies  ? 

SuF.  A  plague  upon  them  !  wherefore  should  I 
curse  them  ? 
Would  curses  kill,  as  doth  the  mandrake's  groan  ^, 

*  I  would  invent  as  bitter-searching  terms, 

*  As  curst,  as  harsh,  and  horrible  to  hear, 
Deliver'd  strongly  through  my  fixed  teeth, 

*  With  full  as  many  signs  of  deadly  hate. 
As  lean-fac'd  Envy  in  her  loathsome  cave  : 

My  tongue  should  stumble  in  mine  earnest  words: 
Mine  eyes  should  sparkle  like  the  beaten  flint ; 
My  hair  be  fix'd  on  end,  as  one  distract ; 
Ay,  every  joint  should  seem  to  curse  and  ban  : 
And  even  now  my  burden'd  heart  would  break. 
Should  I  not  curse  them.     Poison  be  their  drink  ^  1 

^  Would  curses  kill,  as  doth  the  mandrake's  groan,]  The  fa- 
bulous accounts  of  the  plant  called  a  mandrake  give  it  an  inferior 
degree  of  animal  life,  and  relate,  that  when  it  is  torn  from  the 
ground  it  groans,  and  that  this  groan  being  certainly  fatal  to  him 
that  is  offering  such  unwelcome  violence,  the  practice  of  those 
who  gather  mandrakes  is  to  tie  one  end  of  a  string  to  the  plant, 
and  the  other  to  a  dog,  upon  whom  the  fatal  groan  discharges  its 
malignity.     Johnson. 

The  same  allusion  occurs  in  Aristippus,  or  the  Jovial  Philoso- 
pher, by  Randolph  : 

"  This  is  the  mnndrahes  voice  that  undoes  meT     Steevens. 

Bulleine  in  his  Bulwarke  of  Defence  against  Sickness,  &c.  fol. 
1579,  p-  41j  speaking  of  Mandragora,  says  :  "  They  doe  af- 
fyrme  that  this  herbe  commeth  of  the  seede  of  some  convicted 
dead  men:  and  also  without  the  death  of  some  lyvinge  thinge  it 
cannot  be  drawen  out  of  the  earth  to  man's  use.  Therefore  they 
did  tye  some  dogge  or  other  lyving  beast  unto  the  roole  thereof 
wyth  a  corde,  and  digged  the  earth  in  compasse  round  about, 
and  in  the  meane  tyme  stopped  their  own  eares  for  feare  of  the 
terreble  shriek  and  cry  of  this  Mayidrack.  In  whych  cry  it  doth 
not  only  dye  itselfe,  but  the  feare  thereof  kylleth  the  dogge  or 
beast  which  pulleth  it  out  of  the  earth."     Reed. 

9  —  Poison  be  their  drink !]     Most  of  these  e.xecrations  are 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  271 

Gall,  worse  than  gall,  the  daintiest  that  they  taste  ! 
Their  sweetest  shade,  a  grove  of  cypress  trees  ^  ! 
Their  chiefest  prospect,  murdering  basilisks ! 
Their  softest  touch,  as  smart  as  lizards'  stings'  I 
Their  musick,  frightful  as  the  serpent's  hiss ; 
And  boding  screech-owls  make  the  concert  full ! 
All  the  foul  terrors  in  dark-seated  hell — 

Q.  Mar.  Enough,  sweet  Suffolk  ;  thou  torment'st 
thyself; 

*  And  these  dread  curses — like   the   sun    'gainst 

glass, 

*  Or  like  an  overcharged  gun, — recoil, 

*  And  turn  the  force  of  them  upon  thyself. 

SuF.   You   bade  me  ban,  and  will  you  bid  me 
leave  ^  .^ 
Now,  by  the  ground  that  I  am  banish'd  from. 
Well  could  I  curse  away  a  winter's  night, 
Though  standing  naked  on  a  mountain  top. 
Where  biting  cold  would  never  let  grass  grow. 
And  think  it  but  a  minute  spent  in  sport. 

*  Q.  Mar.  O,  let  me  entreat  thee,  cease  !  Give 
me  thy  hand  ^ 

used,  in  the  very  words  of  Shakspeare,  by  Lee,  in  his  Caesar 
Borgia,  Act  IV.     Steevens. 

«  —  of  CYPRESS  trees  !]  Cypress  was  employed  in  the  funeral 
rites  of  the  Romans,  and  hence  is  always  mentioned  as  an  ill- 
boding  plant.     Steevens. 

i  —  murdering  basilisks  ! -lizards'  stings!]  It  has  been 

said  of  the  basilisk  that  it  has  the  power  of  destroying  by  a  single 
glance  of  the  eye.     A  lizard  has  no  sting,  but  is  quite  inoffensive. 

Steevens. 

See  p.  255,  n.  1.     Malone. 

3  You  bade  me  ban,  and  will  you  bid  me  leave  ?]  This  incon- 
sistency is  very  common  in  real  life.  Those  who  are  vexed  to  im- 
patience, are  angry  to  see  others  less  disturbed  than  themselves  ; 
but  when  others  begin  to  rave,  they  immediately  see  in  them  what 
they  could  not  find  in  themselves,  the  deformity  and  folly  of  use- 
less rage.     Johnson. 

4  O,  let  me  entreat  thee,  &c.]     Instead  of  the  first  four  lines 


272  SECOND  PART  OF  act  in. 

*  That  I  may  dew  it  with  my  mournful  tears  ; 

*  Nor  let  the  rain  of  heaven  wet  this  place, 

*  To  wash  away  my  woeful  monuments. 

*  O,  could  this  kiss  be  printed  in  thy  hand  ; 

\_Kisses  his  hand, 

*  That  thou  might'st  think  upon  these  by  the  seal, 

*  Through  whom  a  thousand  sighs  are  breath'd  for 

thee  ^ ! 

*  So,  get  thee  gone,  that  I  may  know  my  grief; 

*  Tis  but  surmis'd  whilst  thou  art  standing  by, 

*  As  one  that  surfeits  thinking  on  a  want. 

*  I  will  repeal  thee,  or,  be  well  assur'd, 

*  Adventure  to  be  banished  myself: 

*  And  banished  I  am,  if  but  from  thee. 

*  Go,  speak  not  to  me  ;  even  now  be  gone. — 

*  O,    go  not  yet ! — Even    thus    two    friends  con- 

demn'd 

*  Embrace,  and  kiss,  and  take  ten  thousand  leaves, 

*  Loather  a  hundred  times  to  part  than  die. 

*  Yet  now  farewell ;  and  farewell  life  with  thee  ! 
SuF.  Thus  is  poor  Suffolk  ten  times  banished, 

Once  by  the  king,  and  three  times  thrice  by  thee. 

of  this  speech,  we  find  in  the  old  play  these,  which  Shakspeare 
has  availed  himself  of  elsewhere  : 

"  No  more,  sweet  Suffolk,  hie  thee  hence  to  France  ; 
"  Or  live  where  thou  wilt  within  this  world's  globe, 
"  I'll  have  an  Irish  [Iris]  that  shall  find  thee  out." 

Malone. 
^  That  thou  might'st  think  upon  these  by  the  seal, 
Through  whom  a  thousand  sighs,   &c.]     That  by  the  impres- 
sion of  my  kiss  for  ever  remaining  on   thy  hand  thou   mightest 
think  on    those  lips   through    which   a   thousand   sighs  will   be 
breathed  for  thee.     Johnson. 

See  the  song  introduced  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 
"  But  my  kisses  bring  again, 
"  Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain." 
Of  this  image  our  author  appears  to  have  been  fond,  having 
introduced  it  in  several  places.     There  is  no  trace  of  it  in  the  old 
play.     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  273 

*  'Tis  not  the  land  I  care  for,  wert  thou  hence ; 

*  A  wilderness  is  populous  enough, 

*  So  Suffolk  had  thy  heavenly  company : 

*  For  where  thou  art,  there  is  the  world  itself^, 

*  With  every  several  pleasure  in  the  world ; 

*  And  where  thou  art  not,  desolation. 

*  I  can  no  more  : — Live  thou  to  joy  thy  life  ; 

*  Myself  no  joy  in  nought,  but  that  thou  liv'st. 

Enter  Kiux, 

*  Q.  Mar.  Whither  goes  Vaux  so  fast .?  what  news, 

I  pr'ythee  ^ 

*  Vaux.  To  signify  unto  his  majesty, 
That  cardinal  Beaufort  is  at  point  of  death  : 

*  For  suddenly  a  grievous  sickness  took  him, 

*  That  makes  him  gasp,  and  stare,  and  catch  the 

air, 
'  Blaspheming  God,  and  cursing  men  on  earth. 

*  Sometime,  he  talks  as  if  duke  Humphrey's  ghost 

*  Were  by  his  side;  sometime,  he  calls  the  king. 
And  whispers  to  his  pillow,  as  to  him, 

^  The  secrets  of  his  overcharged  soul  ^ : 

*  And  I  am  sent  to  tell  his  majesty, 

*  That  even  now  he  cries  aloud  for  him. 

^  For  where  thou  art,  &c.]     So  Lucretius  : 

Nee  sine  te  pulchrum  dias  in  luminis  auras 
Exoritur,  neque  sit  Isetum  nee  amabile  quicquam. 
Still  more  elegantly  Milton,  in  a  passage  of  his  Comus,  (after- 
wards omitted)  v.  214',  &c. : 

"  — —  while  I  see  you, 
"  This  dusky  hollow  is  a  paradise, 
"  And  heaven  gates  o'er  my  head."     Steevens. 
7  And  whispers  to  his  pillow,  as  to  him, 
The  secrets,  8cc.]     The  first  of  these  lines  is  in  the  old  play. 
The  second  is  unquestionably  our  author's.     The  thought  appears 
to  have  struck  him  ;  for  he  has  introduced  it  again  in  Macbeth  : 

" Infected  minds 

"  To  their  deaf  pillows  will  discharge  their  secrets." 

Malone. 

VOL.  XVIII.  T 


274  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ni. 

Q.  Mar.    Go,  tell  this   heavy  message  to  the 
king.  \_Exit  K^ux. 

*  Ah  me  !  what  is  this  world  ?  what  news  are  these  ^  ? 

*  But  wherefore  grieve  I  at  an  hour's  poor  loss^ , 

*  Omitting  Suffolk's  exile,  my  soul's  treasure  ? 

*  Why  only,  Suffolk,  mourn  I  not  for  thee, 

*  And  with  the  southern  clouds  contend  in  tears ; 

*  Theirs   for   the   earth's   increase  \  mine  for  my 

sorrows  ? 

*  Now,  get  thee  hence :  The  king,  thou  know'st,  is 

coming  ? 

*  If  thou  be  found  by  me,  thou  art  but  dead. 

*  SuF.  If  I  depart  from  thee,  I  cannot  live  : 

*  And  in  thy  sight  to  die,  what  were  it  else, 
But  like  a  pleasant  slumber  in  thy  lap  ? 
Here  could  I  breathe  my  soul  into  the  air, 

*  As  mild  and  gentle  as  the  cradle  babe, 
Dying  with  mother's  dug  between  its  lips  : 
Where,  from  thy  sight  \  I  should  be  raging  mad, 

^  Ah  me  !  what  is  this  world  ?  what  news  are  these  ?]  Instead 
of  this  line,  the  quarto  reads  :] 

"  Oh  !  what  is  worldly  pomp?  all  men  must  die, 
■    "  And  woe  am  I  for  Beaufort's  heavy  end."     Steevens. 

9  — at  an  hour's  poor  loss,]  She  means,  I  believe,  at  a  loss 
which  any  hour  spent  in  contrivance  and  deliberation  will  enable 
her  to  supply.  Or  perhaps  she  may  call  the  sickness  of  the  Car- 
dinal the  loss  of  an  hour,  as  it  may  put  some  stop  to  her  schemes. 

Johnson. 

I  believe  the  poet's  meaning  is,  '  Wherefore  do  I  grieve  that 
Beaufort  has  died  an  hour  before  his  time,  who,  being  an  old  man, 
could  not  have  had  a  long  time  to  live  ?  '     Steevens. 

This  certainly  may  be  the  meaning ;  yet  I  rather  incline  to 
think  that  the  Queen  intends  to  say,  "  Why  do  I  lament  a  cir- 
cumstance, the  impression  of  which  will  pass  away  in  the  short 
period  of  an  hour ;  while  I  neglect  to  think  on  the  loss  of  Suffolk, 
my  affection  for  whom  no  time  will  efface  ?  "     Malone. 

'  Where,  from  thy  sight,]  In  the  preambles  of  almost  all  the 
statutes  made  during  the  first  twenty  years  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
reign,  the  word  xi^liere  is  employed  instead  of  xvhercns.  It  is  so 
used  here,     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  276 

*  And  cry  out  for  thee  to  close  up  mine  eyes, 

*  To  have  thee  with  thy  Hps  to  stop  my  mouth ; 

*  So  should'st  thou  either  turn  my  flying  soul  '^j, 

*  Or  I  should  breathe  it  so  into  thy  body, 
And  then  it  liv'd  in  sweet  Elysium. 

To  die  by  thee,  were  but  to  die  in  jest ; 

From  thee  to  die,  were  torture  more  than  death  : 

,0,  let  me  stay,  befall  what  may  befall. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Away !    though   parting   be   a  fretful 
cor'sive  '^, 

*  It  is  applied  to  a  deathful  wound. 

'  To  France,    sweet  Suffolk:    Let  me  hear  from 

thee; 
'  For  wheresoe'er  thou  art  in  this  world's  globe, 
I'll  have  an  Iris  *  that  shall  find  thee  out. 


So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  : 

"  And  ivho'c  I  thought  the  remnant  of  mine  age,"  &c. 
See  vol.  iv.  p.  70,  n.  6.     Steevens. 

*  —  turn  my  flying  soul,]  Perhaps  Mr.  Pope  was  indebted  to 
this  passage  in  his  Eloisa  to  Abelard,  where  he  makes  that  vota- 
rist  of  exquisite  sensibility  say: 

"  See  my  lips  tremble,  and  my  eye-balls  roll, 

"  Suck  my  last  breath,  and  catch  my  flying  soul." 

Steevens.' 

3  Away  !  though  parting  be  a  fretful  cor'sive,]  The  word 
corrosive  w^^  generally,  in  our  author's  time,  written,  and,  I  sup- 
pose, pronounced  corsive ;  and  the  metre  shows  that  it  ought  to 
be  so  printed  here.     So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1605  : 

"  His  son  distrest,  a  corsive  to  his  heart." 
Again,  in  The  Alchymist,  by  Ben  Jonson,  1610: 

"  Now  do  you  see  that  something's  to  be  done 

"  Beside  your  beech-coal  and  your  corsive  waters." 
Again,  in  an  Ode  by  the  same  : 

"  I  send  not  balms  nor  corsives  to  your  wound."  Malone. 
Thus  also,   in  Burton's   Anatomy  of  Melancholy,    edit.   1632, 
p.  600  :   "  a  corsive  to  all  content,  a  frenzie,"  &c.     Steevens, 

4  I'll  have  an  Iris — ]     Iris  was  the  messenger  of  Juno. 

Johnson, 
So,  in  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well : 

"  ——this  distemper'd  messenger  of  wet, 
"  The  many-colour'd  Iris — ."     Steevens. 

T  2 


2T6  SECOND  PART  OF  act  hi. 

SuF.  I  go. 

Q.  Mar.         And  take  my  heart  with  thee^. 

SvF.  A  jewel,  lock'd  into  the  woeful'st  cask 
That  ever  did  contain  a  thing  of  worth. 
Even  as  a  spHtted  bark,  so  sunder  we ; 
This  way  fall  I  to  death. 

Q.  Mar,  This  way  for  me. 

\_Kveunt,  severally. 


SCENE  III. 
"London.     Cardinal  Beaufort's  Bed-chamber. 

Enter  King  Henry"^,  Salisbury,  Warwick,  and 
Others.  The  Cardinal  in  bed ;  Atte7idants  with 
him. 

*  K.  Hen.  How  fares  my  lord  ^  ?  speak,  Beau- 
fort, to  thy  sovereign. 

^  And  take  my  heart  with  thee.]     I  suppose,  to  complete  the 
verse,  we  should  read 


along  with  thee." 


So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  And  he  to  England  shall  along  with  thee."     Steevens. 

7  Enter  Kmg  Henri/,  &c.]  The  quarto  offers  the  following  stage 

directions.     "  Enter  King  and  Salisbiiri/,  and  then  the  curtaines 

be  draivne,   and  the  cardinal  if  discovered  in  his  bed,  raving  and 

staring  as  if  he  were  mad."     Steevens, 

This  description  did  f.ot  escape  our  author,  for  he  has  availed 
himself  of  it  elsewhere.     See  the  speech  of  Vaux  in  p.  273. 

Malone. 
^  How  fares  my  lord  ?  &c.]  This  scene,  and  that  in  which  the 
dead  body  of  the  Duke  ot  Gloster  is  described,  are  deservedly  ad- 
mired. Having  already  submitted  to  the  reader  the  lines  on 
which  the  former  scene  is  founded,  I  shall  now  subjoin  those 
which  gave  rise  to  that  before  us  : 

"  Car.  O  death,  if  thou  wilt  let  me  live  but  one  whole  year, 
**  I'll  give  thee  as  much  gold  as  will  purchase  such  another 
island. 
"  Kitig.  O  see,  my  lord  of  Salisbury,  how  he  is  troubled. 
•*  Lord  Cardinal,  remember,  Christ  must  have  thy  soul. 


sc.  121.  KING  HENRY  VI.  377 

*  C.JR.  If  thou  be'st  death,  I'll  give  thee  Eng- 
land's treasure  ^, 
*  Enough  to  purchase  such  another  island, 

"  Car.  Why,  dy'd  he  not  in  his  bed  ? 
"  What  would  you  have  me  to  do  then  ? 
"  Can  I  make  men  live,  whether  they  will  or  no? 
"  Sirrah,  go  fetch  me  the  strong  poison,  which 
*'  The  'pothecary  sent  me. 

"  O,  see  where  duke  Humphrey's  ghost  doth  stand  ? 
*'  And  stares  me  in  the  foce !  Look ;  look  ;  comb  down  his  hair. 
"  So  now,  he's  gone  again.     Oh,  oh,  oh. 

"  Sal.  See  how  the  pangs  of  death  doth  gripe  his  heart. 
"  King.  Lord  Cardinal,  if  thou  diest  assured  of  heaveiily 
bliss, 
"  Hold  up  thy  hand,  and  make  some  sign  to  rae. 

"  IThe  Cardinal  dies. 
"  O  see,  he  dies,  and  makes  no  sign  at  all. 
"  O  God,  forgive  his  soul ! 

"  Sal.  So  bad  an  end  did  never  none  behold  : 
"  But  as  his  death,  so  was  his  life  in  all. 
"  King.  Forbear  to  judge,  good  Salisbury,  forbear; 
<^      *'  For  God  will  judge  us  all.     Go  take  him  hence, 

"  And  see  his  funerals  be  perform'd.  [Exeunt'' 

Malone. 
9  If  thou  be'st  death.  111  give  thee  England's  treasure,  &c.} 
The  following  passage  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  Henry  VL  fol.  70,  b. 
suggested  the  corresponding  lines  to  the  author  of  the  old  play : 
"  During  these  doynges,  Henry  Beaufford,  byshop  of  Winchester, 
and  called  the  riche  Cardynall,  departed  out  of  this  worlde.— 
This  man  was — haut  in  stomach  and  h3'gh  in  countenance,  ryche 
above  measure  of  all  men,  and  to  fewe  liberal ;  disdaynful  to  his 
kynne,  and  dreadful  to  his  lovers.  His  covetous  insaciable  and 
hope  of  long  lyfe  made  hym  bothe  to  forget  God,  his  prynce,  and 
hymselfe,  in  his  latter  dayes  ;  for  Doctor  John  Baker,  his  pryvie 
counsailer  and  his  chapellayn,  wrote,  that  lying  on  his  death-bed, 
he  said  these  words  :  '  Why  should  I  dye,  having  so  muche  riches  ? 
If  the  whole  realme  would  save  my  lyfe,  I  am  able  either  by 
pollicie  to  get  it,  or  by  ryches  to  bye  it.  Fye  will  not  death  be 
hyred,  nor  will  money  do  nothynge  ?  When  my  nephew  of  Bed- 
ford died,  I  thought  myselfe  halfe  up  the  whele,  but  when  I  sawe 
myne  other  nephew  of  Gloucester  disceased,  then  I  thought  my 
selfe  able  to  be  equal  with  kinges,  and  so  thought  to  increase  my 
treasure  in  hope  to  have  vvorne  a  trypple  croune.  But  I  se  nowe 
the  worlde  fayleth  me,  and  so  I  am  deceyved ;  praying  you  all  to 
pray  for  me."     Malon£. 


278  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  So  thou  wilt  let  me  live,  and  feel  no  pain. 

*  K.  Hex.  Ah,  what  a  sign  it  is  of  evil  life, 

*  When  death's  approach  is  seen  so  terrible  ! 

*  IfAR.  Beaufort,  it  is  thy  sovereign  speaks  to 

thee. 

*  C.4R.  Bring  me  unto  my  trial  when  you  will. 
'  Died  he  not  in  his  bed  ?  where  should  he  die  ? 
Can  I  make  men  live,  whe'r  they  will  or  no  ^  ? — 

*  O  !  torture  me  no  more,  I  will  confess. — 
'  Alive  again  ?  then  show  me  where  he  is; 

'  I'll  give  a  thousand  pound  to  look  upon  him. — 

*  He  hath  no  eyes,  the  dust  hath  blinded  them  '. — 
^  Comb  down  his  hair;  look!  look!  it  stands  up- 
right, 

'  Like  lime-twigs  set  to  catch  my  winged  soul ! — 

*  Give  me  some  drink  ;  and  bid  the  apothecary 

*  Bring  the  strong  poison  that  I  bought  of  him. 

*  K.  Hen.  O  thou  eternal  Mover  of  the  heavens, 

*  Look  with  a  gentle  eye  upon  this  wretch  ! 

*  O,  beat  away  the  busy  meddling  fiend, 

*  That  lays  strong  siege  unto  this  wretch's  soul, 

*  And  from  his  bosom  purge  this  black  despair ! 

^  fi(^R.  See,  how  the  pangs  of  death  do  make  him 
grin . 

*  Sal.  Disturb  him  not,  let  him  pass  peaceably. 

*  K.   Hen.  Peace  to  his  soul,    if    God's  good 

pleasure  be  ! 

*  Lord  cardinal,  if  thou  think'st  on  heaven's  bliss, 

'  Can  I  make  men  live?  whe'r  they  will  or  no?]     So,  in  King 
John  : 

"  We  cannot  hold  mortality's  strong  hand  : — 
"  Why  do  you  bend  such  solemn  brows  on  me? 
"  Think  you,   I  bear  the  shears  of  destiny  ? 
"  Have  1  commandment  on  the  pulse  of  life  ?  "     Malone. 
*  He  hath  no  eyes,  &c.]     So,  in  Macbeth  : 
"  Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes, 
"  Which  thou  dost  glare  with."     Malone. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  279 

*  Hold  up  thy  hand  '^  make  signal  of  thy  hope. — 

*  He  dies,  and  makes  no  sign  ;  O  God,  forgive  him ! 

*  JVar.  So  bad  a  death  argues  a  monstrous  life. 

*  K.  Hen.  Forbear  to  judge  '^,  for  we  are  sinners 

all.— 

*  Close  up  his  eyes,  and  draw  the  curtain  close  ; 

*  And  let  us  all  to  meditation.  [E.vcunt  ^. 

^  Hold  up  thy  hand,]     Thus,  in  the  spurious  phay  of  K.  John, 
1591,   Pandulph  sees  the  King  dying,  and  says: 

"  Then,  good  my  lord,  if  you  forgive  them  all, 
"■  Lift  up  your  hand,  in  token  you  forgive." 
Again  : 

"  Lift  up  thy  hand,  that  we  may  witness  here, 
"  Thou  diest  the  servant  of  our  Saviour  Christ : — 
"  Now  joy  betide  thy  soul !  "'     Steevens. 
When  a  dying  person  is  incapable  of  speech,  it  is  usual  (in  the 
church  of  Rome)  previous  to  the  administration  of  the  sacraments, 
to  obtain  some  sign  that  he  is  desirous  of  having  them  adminis- 
tered.    The  passage  may  have  an  allusion  to  this  practice.     C. 
•*  Forbear  to  judge,  &c.] 

Peccantes  culpare  cave,  nam  labimur  omnes, 
Aut  sumus,  aut  fuimus,  vel  possumus  esse  quod  hie  est. 

Johnson. 
5  Exeunt.']  This  is  one  of  the  scenes  which  have  been  ap- 
plauded by  the  criticks,  and  which  will  continue  to  be  admired 
when  prejudices  shall  cease, .and  bigotry  give  way  to  impartial 
examination.  These  are  beauties  that  rise  out  of  nature  and  of 
truth  ;  the  superficial  reader  cannot  miss  them,  the  profound  can. 
image  nothing  beyond  them.     Johnson. 


^^80  SECOND  PART  OF  4ct  if. 

ACT  IV.     SCENE  I. 

Kent.     The  Sea-shore  near  Dover  ^ 

Firing  heard  at  Sea'.  Tlien  enter  from  a  Boat,  a 
Captain,  a  Master,  a  Master' s-Mate,  Walter 
TVhitmore,  and  Others  ;  with  them  Suffolk,  and 
other  Gentlemen,  prisoners. 

*Cap.  The  gaudy,  blabbing,  and  remorseful  day' 
*  Is  crept  into  the  bosom  of  the  sea ; 

^  The  circumstance  on  which  this  scene  is  founded,  is  thus  re- 
lated by  Hall  in  his  Chronicle  : — "  But  fortune  would  not  that 
this  flagitious  person  [the  Duke  of  Sudblk,  who  being  impeached, 
by  the  Commons  was  banished  from  England  for  five  years,] 
shoulde  so  escape  ;  for  when  he  shipped  in  Suffolk,  entendynge 
to  be  transported  into  France,  he  was  encountered  with  a  shippe 
of  warre  apperteinyng  to  the  Duke  of  Excester,  the  Constable  of 
the  Towre  of  London,  called  The  Nicholas  of  the  l^owre.  The 
capitaine  of  the  same  bark  with  small  fight  entered  into  the 
duke's  shyppe,  and  perceyving  his  person  present,  brought  him  to 
Dover  rode,  and  there  on  the  one  syde  of  a  cocke-bote,  caused 
his  head  to  be  stryken  of,  and  left  his  body  with  the  head  upon 
the  sandes  of  Dover  ;  w-hich  corse  was  there  founde  by  a  chape- 
layne  of  his,  and  conveyed  to  Wyngfielde  college  in  Suffolke,  and 
there  buried."     Malone. 

See  the  Paston  Letters,  published  by  Sir  John  Fenn,  second 
edit.  vol.  i.  p.  38,  Letter  X.  in  which  this  event  is  more  circum- 
stantially related.     Steevens. 

7  Firing  heard  at  Sea.']  Perhaps  Ben  Jonson  was  thinking  of 
this  play,  when  he  put  the  following  declaration  into  the  mouth  of 
Morose  in  The  Silent  Woman :  "  Nay,  I  would  sit  out  a  play 
that  were  nothing  hutjig/its  at  sea,  drum^  trumpet,  and  target." 

Steevens, 

^  The  gaudy,  blabbing,  and  remorseful  day — ]  The  epi- 
thet blabbing  applied  to  the  day  by  a  man  about  to  commit  murder, 
is  exquisitely  beautiful.  Guilt  is  afraid  of  light,  considers  dark- 
ness as  a  natural  shelter,  and  makes  night  the  confidante  of  those 
actions  which  cannot  be  trusted  to  the  iell-taleday.     Johnson. 

So;,  Milton,  in  his  Comus,  v.  138  : 

"  Ere  the  blabbing  eastern  scout — ."     Todd. 

Again,  in  Spenser,   Brit.  Ida,  c.  ii.  st.  3  : 

"  For  Venus  hated  his  vCA-blabbing  light,"     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  281 

*  And  now  loud-howling  wolves  arouse  the  jades 

*  That  drag  the  tragick  melancholy  night ; 

*  Who,  with  their  drowsy,  slow,  and  flagging  wings 

*  Clip  dead  men's  graves  ^,  and  from  their  misty 

jaws 

*  Breathe  foul  contagious  darkness  in  the  air. 

*  Therefore,  bring  forth  the  soldiers  of  our  prize ; 

*  For,  whilst  our  pinnace  anchors  in  the  Downs, 

*  Here  shall  they  make  their  ransom  on  the  sand, 

*  Or  with  their  blood  stain  this  discolour'd  shore. — 

*  Master,  this  prisoner  freely  give  I  thee  ; — 

*  And  thou  that  art  his  mate,  make  boot  of  this ; — 

Eemorsefulis  piiiJiiL     So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona : 

" a  gentleman, 

"  Valiant,  wise,  remorseful,  well  accomplish'd." 
The  same  idea  occurs  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Scarf  up  the  tender  eye  of  pitiful  dayj"     Steevens. 
This  speech  is  an  amplification  of  the  following  one  in  the  first 
part  of  The  Whole  Contention,  &c.  quarto,   1600: 

"  Bring  forward  these  prisoners  that  scorn'd  to  yield  ; 

"  Unlade  their  goods  with  speed,   and  sink  their  ship. 

"  Here,  master,  this  prisoner  I  give  to  you, 

"  This  other  the  master's  mate  shall  have  ; 

"  And  Walter  Whickmore,  thou  shalt  have  this  man: 

"And  let  them  pay  their  ransome  ere  they  pass. 

"  Siif.  Walter  !  ^He  starlet k." 

Had  Shakspeare's  play  being  taken  down  by  the  ear,  or  an  im- 
perfect copy  otherwise  obtained,  his  lines  might  have  been  muti- 
lated or  imperfectly  represented  ;  but  would  a  new  circumstance 
(like  that  of  si/zA'/^io- Suffolk's  ship),  not  found  in  the  original,  have 
been  added  by  the  copyist  ? — On  the  other  hand,  if  Shakspeare 
new  modelled  the  work  of  another,  such  a  circumstance  might 
well  be  omitted.     Malone. 

9  ■ -the  jades 

That  drag  the  tragick  melancholy  night ; 
Who,  with  their  drowsy,  slow,  and  flagging  wings 
Clip  dead  men's  graves,]     The  wings  of  the  jades  that  drag 
night  appears  an  unnatural  image,  till  it  is  remembered  that  the 
chariot  of  the  night  is  supposed,   by  Shakspeare,  to  be  drawn  by 
dragons.     Johnson. 

See  vol.  V.  p.  281,  n.  8.     Malone. 

See  also,  Cyrabeline,  vol.  xiii.  p.  67,  n.  1.     Steevens. 


282  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv, 

*  The  other,   \B)int'mg  to  Suffolk,^  Walter  Whit- 

more,  is  thy  share. 

*  1  Gent.   What  is  my  ransom,  master  ?  let  me 

know. 

*  J^Lisi.  A  thousand  crowns,  or  else  lay  down 

your  head. 
'  Mate.  And  so  much  shall  you  give,  or  off  goes 
yours. 

*  Cap.  What,  think  you  much  to  pay  two  thou- 

sand crowns, 

*  And  bear  the  name  and  port  of  gentlemen  ? — 

*  Cut  both  the  villains'  throats  ; — for  die  you  shall ; 

*  The  lives  of  those  which  we  have  lost  in  fight, 

,*  Cannot  be  counterpois'd  with  such  a  petty  sum  \ 

'  The  lives  of  those,  &c.]    The  old  copy  (from  which  some  de- 
viation, for  the  sake  of  obtaining  sense,  was  necessary,)  has  — 
"  The  lives  of  those  which  we  have  lost  in  fight, 
"  Be  counter-poys'd  with  such  a  pettie  sum." 
Mr.  Malone  reads  : 

"  The  lives  of  those  which  we  liave  lost  in  fight 
"  Camiot  be  counterpois'd  with  such  a  petty  sum." 
But  every  reader  will  observe,  that  the  last  of  these  lines  is  in- 
cumbered with  a  superfluous  foot.     I  conceive,    that  the  passage 
originally  stood  as  follows  : 

"  The  lives  of  those  we  have  lost  in  fight,  cannot 
"  Be  counterpois'd  with  such  a  petty  sum."     Steevens. 
I  suspect  that  a  line  has  been  lost,   preceding — "  The   lives  of 
those,"  &c.  and  that  this  speecli  belongs  to  Whitmore  ;  for  it  is 
inconsistent  with  what  the  captain  says   afterwards.     The  word 
cannot  is  not  in  the  folio.    The  old  play  affords  no  assistance.  The 
word  now  added  is  necessary  to  the  sense,  and  is  a  less  innovation 
on  the  text  than   what  has  been  made  in  the  modern  editions — 
"  Nor  can  those  lives,"  &c. 

The  emendation  made  in  this  passage,  (which  was  written  by 
Shakspeare,  there  being  no  trace  of  it  in  the  old  play,)   is  sup- 
ported  by  another  in    Coriolanus,  in  which  we  have  again  the 
same  expression,  and  nearly  the  same  sentiments  : 
"  The  man  I  speak  oi cannot  in  the  world 
'*  Be  singly  counterpois'd."     Malone. 
The  difference  between  the  Captain's  present   and  succeeding 
sentiments  may  thus  be  accounted  for.     Here,  he  is  only  striving 


sc.  I,  KING  HENRY  VI.  283 

*  1  Gent.  I'll  give  it,   sir;   and  therefore  spare 

my  life. 

*  2  Gent.  And  so  will  I,  and  write  home  for  it 

straight. 

*  Whit.  I  lost  mine  eye  in  laying  the  prize  aboard; 
'  And  therefore,  to  revenge  it,  shalt  thou  die ; 

\To  Sue. 
'  And  so  should  these,  if  I  might  have  my  will. 

*  C^p.  B^  not  so  rash  ;  take  ransom,  let  him  live. 

*  Sue.  Look  on  my  George,  I  am  a  gentleman  ^ ; 

*  Rate  me  at  what  thou  wilt,  thou  shalt  be  paid. 

*  Whit.    And  so  am  I ;    my   name  is — Walter 

Whitmore. 

*  How  now?  why  start'st  thou.^  what,  doth  death 

affright  ? 

*  Sue.  Thy  name  affrights  me  ^,  in  whose  sound 

is  death. 

*  A  cunning  man  did  calculate  my  birth, 

"  And  told  me — that  by  JFater'^  I  should  die: 

to  intimidate  his  prisoners  into  a  ready  payment  of  their  ransom. 
Afterwards  his  natural  disposition  inclines  him  to  mercy,  till  he  is 
provoked  by  the  upbraidings  of  Suffolk.     Steevens. 

^  Look  on  my  Geokge,]     In  the  first  edition  it  is  my  ring. 

VVarburton. 

Here  we  have  another  proof  of  what  has  been  already  so  often 
observed.  A  j-iug  and  a  George  could  never  have  been  confounded 
either  by  the  eye  or  the  ear.  So,  in  the  original  play  the  ransom 
of  each  of  Suffolk's  companions  is  a  hundred  pounds^  but  here  a 
thousand  crowns.     Malone. 

3  Thy  name  affrights  me,]  But  he  had  heard  his  name  before, 
without  being  startled  by  it.  In  the  old  play,  as  soon  as  ever  the 
captain  has  consigned  him  to  "  Walter  IVhickmore,''  Suffolk  im- 
mediately exclaims,  Walter!  Whickmore  asks  him,  why  he 
fears  him,  and  Suffolk  replies,  "  It  is  thy  name  affrights  me,'* 
Our  author  has  here,  as  in  some  other  places,  fallen  into  an  im- 
propriety, by  sometimes  following  and  sometimes  deserting  his 
original.     Malone. 

•*  —  by  Water — ]  So,  in  Queen  Margaret's  letter  to  this 
Duke  of  Suffolk,  by  Michael  Drayton  : 

"  I  pray  thee,  Poole,  have  care  how  thou  dost  pass, 

"  Never  the  sea  yet  half  so  dangerous  was, 

*'  And  one  foretold,  by  ivater  thou  should'st  die,"  &c. 


284  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

*  Yet  let  not  this  make  thee  be  bloody  minded  ; 

*  Thy  name  is — Gualtier,  being  rightly  sounded. 

*  Whit.   Gualtier,  or  Walter,  which  it  is,  I  care 

not; 

*  Ne'er  yet  did  base  dishonour  blur  our  name^ 

*  But  with  our  sword  we  wip'd  away  the  blot ; 

*  Therefore,  when  merchant-like  I  sell  revenge, 

*  Broke  be  my  sword,  my  arms  torn  and  defac'd, 

*  And  I  proclaim'd  a  coward  through  th*e  world  ! 

\Lays  hold  on  Suffolk. 
'  SuF.    Stay,    Whitmore;    for  thy  prisoner  is  a 
prince. 
The  duke  of  Suffolk,  William  de  la  Pole. 

*  Whit.  The  duke  of  Suffolk,  muffled  up  in  rags  ! 
SuF.  Ay,  but  these  rags  are  no  part  of  the  duke  ; 

Jove  sometime  went  disguis'd,  And  why  not  V? 

A  note  on  these  lines  says,  "  The  witch  of  Eye  received  an- 
swer from  her  spirit,  that  the  Duke  of  Sufiblk  shoiikl  take  heed 
oiiKater,"     See  the  fourth  scene  of  the  first  Act  of  this  play. 

Steevens. 

This  prophecy,  and  its  accomplishment,  are  differently  stated  by 
a  contemporary  in  the  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  4-0.  The  vessel 
there  is  said  to  have  been  called  Nicholas  of  the  Tower.  "  Also 
he  asked  the  name  of  the  shippe,  and  whanne  he  knew  it  he  re- 
membered Stacy  that  said  if  he  miglit  eschape  the  daunger  of 
the  Towr  he  should  be  saffe,   and  thanne  his  herte  faylyd  him," 

&C.       BOSWELL. 

^  5  Ne'er  yet  did  base  dishonour,  &c.j     This  and  the  following 
lines  are  founded  on  these  two  in  the  old  play : 

"  And  therefore  ere  I  merchant-like  sell  blood  for  gold, 
"  Then  cast  nw  /wad/oiio-  doivn  into  the  sen." 
:..  The    new   image    which  Shakspeare  has  introduced  into  this 
speech,   "  —  my  arms  torn  and  defac'd," — is  found  also  in  King 
Richard  11.  : 

"  From  my  own  window-s  torn  my  household  coat, 
"  Raz'd  out  my  impress  ;  leaving  me  no  sign, — 
*'  Save  men's  opinions,  and  my  living  blood, — 
"  To  show  the  world  I  am  a  gentleman," 
See  the  notes  on  that  passage.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  89,  n.  3  and  4. 

Malone. 
^  Jove  sometime  went  disguis'd,  &c.]     This  verse  is  omitted  in 
all  but  the  first  old  edition,    [quarto  1600,]   without  which  what 
follows  is  not  sense.     The  next  line  also  : 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  285 

Cjp.  But  Jove  was  never  slain,  as  thou  shalt  be. 
*  SuF.    Obscure  and  lowly  swain/  king   Henry's 
blood. 
The  honourable  blood  of  Lancaster^, 

*  Must  not  be  shed  by  such  a  jaded  groom  ^ 

Hast  thou  not  kiss'd  thy  hand,  and  held  my  stirrup  ? 

*  Bare-headed  plodded  by  my  foot-cloth  mule, 

'  And  thought  thee  happy  when  I  shook  my  head? 

*  How  often  hast  thou  waited  at  my  cup, 

'  Fed  from  my  trencher,  kneel'd  down  at  the  board, 
'  When  I  have  feasted  with  queen  Margaret  ? 

*  Remember  it,  and  let  it  make  thee  crest-fall'n ; 

*  Ay,  and  allay  this  thy  abortive  pride  ^ : 

*  How  in  our  voiding  lobby  hast  thou  stood, 

*  And  duly  waited  for  my  coming  forth  ? 

"  Obscure  and  lowly  swain,  king  Henry's  blood," 
was  falsely  put  in  the  Captain's  mouth.     Pope. 

7  —  LOWLY  swain,]     The  folio  reads — "  lotosy  swain." 

Steevens. 
The  quarto,   loxdy.     In  a  subsequent  passage  the  folio  has  the 
word  right : 

"  By  such  a  lovoly  vassal  as  thyself." 
Lowsy  was  undoubtedly  an  errour  of  the  press.  Malone. 
^  The  honourable  blood  of  Lancaster,]  How  had  Suffolk  any 
of  this  blood?  If  Shakspeare  had  been  well  acquainted  with  this 
duke's  pedigree,  I  think  he  would  not  have  failed  to  make  some  of 
his  adversaries  reproach  him  with  his  low  extraction.  His  great 
grandfather  was  a  merchant  at  Hull.     Blakeway. 

9  —  a  JADED  groom.]  I  suppose  he  means  a  low  fellow,  fit 
only  to  attend  upon  horses  ;  which  in  our  author's  time  were  fre- 
quently termed  jades.  The  original  play  has  jac?y,  which  conveys 
this  meaning  (the  only  one  that  the  words  seem  to  afford,)  more 
clearly,  jflf/ec?  being  liable  to  an  equivoque.  Jaded  ^room,\\ovf~ 
ever,  may  mean  a  groom  whom  all  men  treat  with  contempt ;  as 
worthless  as  the  most  paltry  kind  of  horse. 
So,  in  King  Henry  VIII, : 

"  — —  if  we  live  thus  tamely, 

"  To  be  t\i\xii  jaded  by  a  piece  of  scarlet — ."     Malone. 
A  jaded  groom  may  signify  a  groom  who  has  hitherto  been 
treated  with  no  greater  ceremony  than  a  horse.     Steevens. 

'  —  abortive  pride  :]     Pride  that  has  had  birth  too  soon,  pride 
issuing  before  its  time.     Johnson. 


286  SECOND  PART  OF  ^ct  iv. 

*  This  hand  of  mine  hath  writ  in  thy  behalf, 

*  And  therefore  shall  it  charm  thy  riotous  tongue  \ 

*  Whit.  Speak,  captain,  shall  I  stab  the  forlorn 

swain  ? 

*  Cap.  First  let  my  words  stab  him,  as  he  hath 

me. 

*  SuF.  Base  slave  !  thy  words  are  blunt,  and  so 

art  thou. 
'  Cap.  Convey  him  hence,  and  on  our  long-boat's 
side 

*  Strike  off  his  head. 

SuF.  Thou  dar'st  not  for  thy  own'. 

Cap.  Yes,  Poole. 

SuF.  Poole  .^ 

Cap.  Poole  .?  Sir  Poole  .?  lord  '  ? 


*  —  CHARM  THY  riotous  TONGUE.]  i.  c.  restrain  thy  licen- 
tious talk,  compel  thee  to  be  silent.  See  Mr.  Steevens's  note 
in  Othello,  vol.  ix.  p.  477,  n.  9,  where  lago  uses  the  same  ex- 
pression.    It  occurs  frequently  in   the  books   ofour  author's  age. 

M  ALONE. 

Again,  in  the  Third  Part  of  this  play,  Act  V.  Sc.  III. : 
"  Peace,  wilful  boy,  or  I  will  charm  your  tongue."'' 

Steevens. 
^  Thou  dar'st  not,  &c.]     In  the  quarto  edition  the  passage 
stands  thus  : 

"  Strf.  Thou  dar'st  not  for  thy  own, 
"  Cap.  Yes,  Pole  ? 
"  Suf.  Pole  ? 

"  Cap.  Ay,  Pole,  puddle,  kennel,  sink  and  dirt, 
"  I'll  stop  that  yawning  mouth  of  thine." 
I  think  the  two  intermediate  speeches  should  be  inserted  in  the 
text,  to  introduce  the  Captain's  repetition  of  Poole,  &c. 

Steevens. 
It  is  clear  from  what  follows  that  these  speeches  were  not  in- 
tended to  be  rejected  by  Shakspeare,  but  accidentally  omitted  at 
the  press.     I  have  therefore  restored  them.    Malone. 

3  Poole?  Sir  Poole?  lord?]  The  dissonance  of  this  broken 
line  makes  it  almost  certain  that  we  should  read  with  a  kind  of 
ludicrous  climax  : 

"  Poole  ?  Sir  Poole  ?  lord  Poole  ?  " 
He  then  plays  upon  the  name  Poole,  kennel,  puddle. 

Johnson, 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  287 

*  Ay,  kennel,  puddle,  sink  ;  whose  filth  and  dirt 

*  Troubles  the  silver  spring  where  England  drinks. 

*  Now  will  I  dam  up  this  thy  yawning  mouth, 

*  For  swallowing*  the  treasure  of  the  realm  : 

*  Thy  lips,  that  kiss'd  the  queen,  shall  sweep  the 

ground ; 

*  And  thou,  that  smil'dst  at  good  duke  Humphrey's 

death  \ 

*  Against  the  senseless  winds  shalt  grin  in  vain  ^, 

*  Who,  in  contempt,  shall  hiss  at  thee  again'' : 

*  And  wedded  be  thou  to  the  hags  of  hell, 

*  For  daring  to  affy  ^  a  mighty  lord 

4  For  swallowing — ]  He  means,  perhaps,  so  as  to  prevent  thy 
swallowing,  &c.  So,  in  The  Puritan,  1607  :  "  —  he  is  now  in 
huckster's  handling_/or  running  away."  I  have  met  with  many 
other  instances  of  this  kind  of  phraseologj'.  The  more  obvious 
interpretation,  however,  may  be  the  true  one.     Malone. 

5  And  thou,  that  smil'dst  at  good  duke  Humphrey's  death,  &c.] 
This  enumeration  of  Suffolk's  crimes  seems  to  have  been  sug- 
gested by  The  Mirrour  of  Magistrates,  1575,  Legend  of  William 
de  la  Pole : 

"  And  led  me  back  again  to  Dover  road, 

"  Where  unto  me  i-ecountiiig  all  my  faults, — 

"  As  murthering  of  duke  Humphrey  in  his  bed, 

"  And  how  I  had  brought  all  the  realm  to  nought, 

"  Causing  the  king  unlawfully  to  wed, 

"  There  was  no  grace  but  I  must  lose  my  head." 

Malone. 
^  —  shalt  grin  in  vain,]     From  hence  to  the  endof  this  speech 
is  undoubtedly  the  original  composition  of  Shakspeare,  no  traces 
of  it  being  found  in  the  elder  play.     Malone. 

7  — the  senseless  WINDS 

Who,  in  CONTEMPT,  shall  hiss  at  thee  again  :]     The  same 
worthless  image  occurs  also  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

" the  rciinds 

"  Who,  nothing  hurt  withal,  kiss'd  him  in  scorn." 

Steevens. 
'  —  to  AFFY — ]     To  affy  is  to  hetroth  in  marriage.     So,  in 
Drayton's  Legend  of  Pierce  Gaveston  : 

"  In  bands  of  wedlock  did  to  me  affy 
"  A  lady,"  &c, 
A  gain  J  in  the  17  th  Song  of  The  Polyolbion  : 


288  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

*  Unto  the  daughter  of  a  worthless  king, 

*  Having  neither  subject,  wealth,  nor  diadem. 

*  By  devilish  policy  art  thou  grown  great, 

*  And,  like  ambitious  Sylla,  overgorg'd 

*  With  gobbets  of  thy  mother's  bleeding  heart. 

*  By  thee,  Anjou  and  Maine  were  sold  to  France : 

*  The  false  revolting  Normans,  thorough  thee, 
^  Disdain  to  call  us  lord ;  and  Picardy 

*  Hath  slain  their  governors,  surpriz'd  our  forts, 

*  And  sent  the  ragged  soldiers  wounded  home. 

*  The  princely  Warwick,  and  the  Nevils  all, — 

*  Whose   dreadful   swords  were    never  drawn    in 

vain, — 

*  As  hating  thee,  are  rising  ^  up  in  arms : 

*  And  now  the  house  of  York — thrust  from  the 

crown, 

*  By  shameful  murder  of  a  guiltless  king, 

*  And  lofty  proud  encroaching  tyranny, — 

*  Burns  with  revenging  fire ;  whose  hopeful  colours 

*  Advance  our  half-fac'd  sun  \  striving  to  shine, 

*  Under  the  which  is  writ — Invitis  mibibus. 

"*  The  commons  here  in  Kent  are  up  in  arms : 

*  And,  to  conclude,  reproach,  and  beggary, 

*  Is  crept  into  the  palace  of  our  king, 

*  And  all  by  thee : — Away  !  convey  him  hence. 

*  SuF.    O  that  I   were   a  god,    to   shoot   forth 
thunder 

*  Upon  these  paltry,  servile,  abject  drudges  ! 


" the  Almaine  emperor's  bride 

"  Which  after  to  the  earl  of  Anjou  was  affyd." 

Steevens. 
9  — ARE  rising — ]      Old   copy — and  rising.      Corrected  by 
Mr,  Rowe.     Malone, 

*  —  whose  hopeful  colours 
Advance   our  half-fac'd  sun,]     *'  Edward  III.  bare  for  his 
device  the  rays  of  the  sun  dispersing  themselves  out  of  a  cloud." 
Camden's  Remaines.     Malone. 


sc.  /.  KING  HENRY  VI.  289 

*  Small  things  make  base  men  proud :  '  this  vil- 

lain here, 

*  Being  captain  of  a  pinnace^,  threatens  more 

*  Than  Bargulus  the  strong  Illyrian  pirate^. 

'  Drones  suck  not  eagles'  blood,  but  rob  bee-hives. 

*  It  is  impossible,  that  I  should  die 
'  By  such  a  lowly  vassal  as  thyself. 

'  Thy  v/ords  move  rage,  and  not  remorse,  in  me  * : 

^  Being  captain  of  a  pinnace,]  A  pinnace  did  not  anciently 
signify,  as  at  present,  a  man  of  war's  boat,  but  a  ship  of  small 
burthen.  So,  in  Winwood's  Memorials,  vol.  iii.  p.  118  :  "The 
king  (James  I.)  naming  the  great  ship.  Trade's  Increase;  and 
the  prince,  a  jnmiace  of  250  tons  (built  to  wait  upon  her,)  Pepper- 
corn."    Steevens. 

The  complement  of  men  on  board  a  pinnace  (or  sjyyner)  was 
about  twenty-five.     See  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  159.     Henley. 

3  Than  Bargulus  the  strong  Illyrian  pirate.]  Mr.  Theobald 
says,  "  This  wight  I  have  not  been  able  to  trace,  or  discover  from 
what  legend  our  author  derived  his  acquaintance  with  him." 
And  yet  he  is  to  be  met  with  in  TuUy's  Offices  ;  and  the  legend 
is  the  famous  Theopompus's  History :  "  Bargulus,  lUyrius  latro, 
de  quo  est  apud  Theopompum,  magnas  opes  habuit."  lib.  ii. 
cap.  xi.     Warburton. 

Dr.  Farmer  observes  that  Shakspeare  might  have  met  with  this 
pirate  in  two  translations.  Robert  Whytinton,  1533,  calls  him 
"  Bargulus,  a  pirate  upon  the  sea  of  Illiry ;  "  and  Nicholas 
Grimoald,  about  twenty-three  years  afterwards,  "  Bargulus,  the 
Illyrian  robber," 

Bargulus  does  not  make  his  appearance  in  the  quarto  ;  but  we 
have  another  hero  in  his  room.     The  Captain,  says  Suffolk  : 
"  Threatens  more  plagues  than  mighty  Abradas, 
"  The  great  Macedonian  pirate." 

I  know  nothing  more  of  this  Abradas,  than  that  he  is  men- 
tioned by  Greene  in  his  Penelope's  Web,   1601  : 

"  Abradas  the  great  Macedonian  pirat  thought  every  one  had 
a  letter  of  mart  that  bare  sayles  in  the  ocean."     Steevens. 

Here  we  see  another  proof  of  what  has  been  before  suggested. 

Malone. 

4  Thy  words  move  rage,  and  not  remorse,  in  me  :]  This  line 
Shakspeare  has  injudiciously  taken  from  the  Captain,  to  whom 
it  is  attributed  in  the  original  play,  and  given  it  to  Suffolk ;  for 
what  remorse,  that  is,  pity,  could  Suffolk  be  called  upon  to  show 
to  his  assailant :  whereas  the  Captain  might  with  propriety  say 

VOI-.  XVIII.  u 


290  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

*  I  go  of  message  from  the  queen  to  France ; 
'  I  charge  thee,  waft  me  safely  cross  the  channel. 
'  Cap.  Walter, 

*  Whit.  Come,  Suffolk,  I  must  waft  thee  to  thy 

death. 

*  SuF.  Pent  gelidus  timor  occupat  artus^ : — 'tis 

thee  I  fear. 

to  his  captive — thy  haughty  language  exasperates  me,  instead  of 
exciting  my  compassion.     Malone. 

Perhaps  our  author  meant  (however  imperfectly  he  may  have 
expressed  himself,)  to  make  Suffolk  say — "  Your  words  excite 
my  anger,  instead  of  prompting  me  to  solicit  pity."     Steevens. 

The  meaning,  I  apprehend,  is  this,  "  You  have  not  made  me 
feel  remorse  for  the  crimes  with  which  you  have  charged  me, 
but  rage  at  your  insolence."  Remorse,  in  our  old  writers,  some- 
times signified  pity  ;  but  was  also  used  in  its  modern  sense. 

BOSM^ELL. 

5  Perw  gelidus  timor  occiipat  artus  :^  The  folio,  where  alone 
this  line  is  found,  reads — Pine,  &c.  a  corruption,  I  suppose,  of 
\_pene']  the  word  that  I  have  substituted  in  its  place.  I  know  not 
what  other  word  could  have  been  intended.  The  editor  of  the 
second  folio,  and  all  the  modern  editors,  have  escaped  the  difficulty 
by  suppressing  the  word.  The  measure  is  of  little  consequence, 
for  no  such  line,  I  believe,  exists  in  any  classick  author.  Dr. 
Grey  refers  lis  to  "  Ovid  de  Trist.  313,  and  Metamorph.  24'7  :  " 
a  very  wide  field  to  range  in  ;  however,  with  some  trouble  I  found 
out  what  he  meant.  This  line  is  not  in  Ovid  (nor  I  believe  in  any 
other  poet)  ;  but  in  his  De  Tristibus,  lib.  i.  El.  iii.  113,  we  find  : 

Navita,  confessus  gclido  pallore  tiniorem — , 
and  in  his  Metamorph.  lib.  iv.  247,  we  meet  with  these  lines  : 
Ille  quidem  gelidos  radiorum  viribus  artus. 
Si  queat,  in  vivum  tentat  revocare  calorem.     Malone. 
In  the  eleventh  book  of  Virgil,  Turnus  (addressing  Drances) 
says — 

— —  cur  ante  tubam  tremor  occupat  artus  ? 
This  is  as  near,  I  conceive,  to  Suffolk's  quotation,  as  either  of 
the  passages  already  produced.     Yet,   somewhere,   in  the  wide 
expanse  of  Latin  Poetry,  ancient  and  modern,   the  veiy  words  in 
question  may  hereafter  be  detected. 

Pene,  the  gem  which   appears  to   have  illuminated  the  dreary 
mine  of  collation,  is  beheld  to  so  little  advantage  above-ground, 
that  I  am  content  to  leave  it  where  it  was  discovered.  Steevens. 
In  the  seventh  book  of  the  .^neid,  v.  ^^fS,  we  find — 
Subitus  tremor  occupat  artus.     Boswell. 


sc.  J.  KING  HENRY  VI.  291 

*  Whit.  Thou  shalt  have  cause  to  fear,  before  I 

leave  thee. 

*  What,  are  ye  daunted  now  ?  now  will  ye  stoop  ? 

'  1  Gent.  My  gracious  lord,  entreat  him,  speak 

him  fair. 
*  SuF.  Suffolk's  imperial  tongue  is  stern  and  rough, 

*  Us'd  to  command,  untaught  to  plead  for  favour. 

*  Far  be  it,  we  should  honour  such  as  these 
'  With  humble  suit:  no,  rather  let  my  head 

*  Stoop  to  the  block,  than  these  knees  bow  to  any, 

*  Save  to  the  God  of  heaven,  and  to  my  king ; 

*  And  sooner  dance  upon  a  bloody  pole, 

*  Than  stand  uncover'd  to  the  vulgar  groom. 

*  True  nobility  is  exempt  from  fear : — 

*  More  can  I  bear,  than  you  dare  execute  °. 

*  Cap.  Hale  him  away,  and  let  him  talk  no  more. 
'  SuF.  Come,  soldiers,  show  what  cruelty  ye  can  \ 

^  More  can  I  bear,  than  you  dare  execute.]  So,  in  King 
Henry  VIII. : 

" I  am  able  now,  methinks, 

"  (Out  of  a  fortitude  of  soul  I  feel,) 
"  To  endure  more  miseries,  and  greater  far, 
*'  Than  my  weak-hearted  enemies  dare  offer." 
Again,  in  Othello  : 

"  Thou  hast  not  half  that  power  to  do  me  harm, 
"  As  I  have  to  be  hurt."  Malone. 
'  Come,  soldiers,  show  what  cruelty  ye  can,]  In  the  folio  this 
line  is  given  to  the  Captain  by  the  carelessness  of  the  printer  or 
transcriber.  The  present  regulation  was  made  by  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  and  followed  by  Dr.  Warburton.  See  the  latter  part 
of  note  6,  p.  284.     Malone. 

Surely  (as  has  been  suggested)  this  line  belongs  to  the  next 
speech.  No  cruelty  was  meditated  beyond  decollation ;  and 
without  such  an  introduction,  there  is  an  obscure  abruptness  in 
the  beginning  of  Suffolk's  reply  to  the  Captain.     Steevens. 

Mr.  Steevens  has  observed  that  "  no  cruelty  was  meditated  be- 
vond decollation  ;"  butwe learn  from  the  letter  in  the  Paston  collec- 
tion which  I  have  already  quoted,  that  this  was  very  barbarously 
performed,  "  con  of  the  lewdeste  of  the  shippe  badde  hym  ley 
down  his  hedde  and  he  shuld  be  fair  ford  with  and  dye  on  a 
svverde,  and  toke  a  rusly  siverde  and  smo'.te  of  his  hedde  withyn 
halfe  a  doseyn  strokes."     Boswell. 


292  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

'  That  this  my  death  may  never  be  forgot ! — 
'  Great  men  oft  die  by  vile  bezonians  ^ : 
'  A  Roman  sworder  '^  and  banditto  slave, 
'  Murder'd  sweet  Tully  ;  Brutus'  bastard  hand^ 
*  Stabb'd  Julius  Caesar;  savage  islanders, 
'  Pompey  the  great " :  and  Suffolk  dies  by  pirates. 

\^E,vit  ScF.  with  Jf'HiT.  and  Others. 
C^p.  And  as  for  these  whose  ransom  v/e  have  set, 

^  — bezonians:]  See  a  note  on  the  second  part  of  King 
Henry  IV.  vol.  xvii.  p.  224,  n.  4  : 

*'  Bisagnoso,  is  a  mean  low  man." 

So,  in  Sir  Giles  Goosecap,  1606: 

" if  he  come  to  me  like  your  Bcsognio,  or  your  boor." 

Again,  in  Markham's  English  Husbandman,  p.  4  : 

*'  The  ordinary  tillers  of  the  earth,  such  as  we  call  husband- 
men ;  in  France  peasants,  in  Spain  Jjesonyans,  and  generally  the 
cloutshoe."     Steevens. 

9  A  Roman  sworder,  &c.]  i.  e.  Herennius,  a  centurion,  and 
Popilius  Laenas,  tribune  of  the  soldiers.     Steevens. 

'  —  Brutus'  BASTARD  hand  — ]  Brutus  was  the  son  of  Servilia, 
a  Roman  lady,  who  had  been  concubine  to  Julius  Cfesar. 

Steevens. 

*  Pompey  the  great :]  The  poet  seems  to  have  confounded  the 
story  of  Pompey  with  some  other.    Johnson. 

This  circumstance  might  be  advanced  as  a  slight  proof,  in  aid 
of  many  stronger,  that  our  poet  was  no  classical  scholar.  Such 
a  one  could  not  easily  have  forgotten  the  manner  in  which  the  life 
of  Pompey  was  concluded.  Pompey,  however,  is  not  in  the 
quarto.  Spenser  likewise  abounds  with  deviations  from  esta- 
blished history  and  fable.     Steevens. 

Pompey  being  killed  by  Achillas  and  Septimius  at  the  moment 
that  the  Egyptian  fishing  boat  in  which  they  were,  reached  the 
coast,  and  his  head  being  thrown  into  the  sea,  (a  circumstance 
which  Shakspeare  found  in  North's  translation  of  Plutarch,)  his 
mistake  does  not  appear  more  extraordinary  than  some  others 
which  have  been  pointed  out  in  his  works. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  introduction  of  Pompey  was  among 
Shakspeare's  additions  to  the  old  play :  This  may  account  for  the 
classical  error  into  which  probably  the  original  author  would  not 
have  fallen.     In  the  quarto  the  lines  stand  thus  : 
"  A  sworder,  and  banditto  slave, 
"  Murdered  sweet  Tully ; 
*'  Brutus'  bastard  hand  stabb'd  Julius  Caesar, 
"  And  Suflblk  dies  by  pirates  on  the  seas."     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  293 

It  is  our  pleasure  one  of  them  depart : 
Therefore  come  you  with  us,  and  let  him  go. 

\Exeunt  all  but  the  first  Gentleman. 

Re-enter  Whitmore^  xvith  Suffolk s  Body. 

*  Whit.  There  let  his  head  and  lifeless  body  lie, 
'  Until  the  queen  his  mistress  bury  it  ^.  \Exit. 

*  1  Gent.  O  barbarous  and  bloody  spectacle  ! 

*  His  body  will  I  bear  unto  the  king : 

*  If  he  revenge  it  not,  yet  will  his  friends; 

*  So  will  the  queen,  that  living  held  him  dear. 

\_E.vit,  ivith  the  Body. 


SCENE   II. 
Blackheath. 

Enter  George  Befis  and  John  Holland. 

*  Geo.  Come,  and  get  thee  a  swor^^^,  though 

*  made  of  a  lath  ;  they  have  been  up  these  two 

*  days. 

'  John.  They  have  the  more  need  to  sleep  now 
then. 
'  Geo.  I  tell  thee  ^,  Jack  Cade  the  clothier  means 


( 


3  There  let  his  head,  &c.]  Instead  of  this  speech,  the  quarto 
gives  us  the  following  : 

"  Cap.  Off  with  his  head,  and  send  it  to  the  queen, 
"  And  ransomless  this  prisoner  shall  go  free, 
"  To  see  it  safe  deliver'd  unto  her."     Steevens. 
See  Sir  John  Fenn's  Collection  of  The  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i. 
p.  40.     Henley. 

4  —  get  thee  a  sword,]  The  quarto  reads — Come  away, 
NicJc,  and/jw^  a  long  staff  in  thy  pike,  8tc.     Steevens. 

So  afterwards,  instead  of  "  Cade  the  clothier,"  we  have  in  the 
quarto  "  Cade  the  dyer  of  Ashford."     Malone. 

^  I  tell  thee,]  In  the  original  play  this  speech  is  introduced 
more  naturally.     Nick  asks  George  "  Sirra  George,  what's  the 


294  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

*  to  dress  the  commonwealth,  and  turn  it,  and  set  a 
'  new  nap  upon  it. 

John.  So  he  had  need,  for  'tis  threadbare.  Well, 
I  say,  it  was  never  merry  world  in  England  ^,  since 
gentlemen  came  up ". 

*  Geo.  O  miserable  age  !  Virtue  is  not  regarded 

*  in  handycrafts-men. 

'  John.  The  nobility  think  scorn  to  go  in  leather 

*  aprons. 

*  Geo.  Nay  more,  the  king's  council  are  no  good 

*  workmen. 

*  John.  True ;   And  yet  it  is  said, — Labour  in 

*  thy  vocation :  which  is  as  much  to  say,  as, — let 

*  the  magistrates  be  labouring  men  ;  and  therefore 

*  should  we  be  magistrates. 

*  Geo.  Thou  hast  hit  it :   for  there's  no  better 

*  sign  of  a  brave  mind,  than  a  hard  hand. 

*  John.  I  see  them  !  I  see  them  !  There's  Best's 

*  son,  the  tanner  of  Wingham  ; 

*  Geo.  He  shall  have  the  skins  of  our  enemies, 

*  to  make  dog's  leather  of. 

John.  And  Dick  the  butcher  ^ 


matter?"  to  which  George  rejilies,  "  Why  marry,  Jack  Cade, 
the  f/yer  of  Ash  ford  here,"  &c.     Malone. 

^  Well,  I  say,  it  was  never  merky  world  in  England,  &c.] 
The  same  phrase  was  used  by  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  in  the  time  of 
Henry  VIII. :  "Then  stept  forth  the  Duke  of  Suffolke  from  the 
King,  and  spake  with  a  hault  countenance  these  words  :  It  xvas 
never  merry  in  EnryJand  (quoth  hee)  while  we  had  any  Cardinals 
among  us,"  &c.     Stoivcs  Chronicle,   fo.  1631,  p.  .546.     Reed. 

7  — since  gentlemen  came  up.]  Thus  we  familiarly  say — a 
fashion  comes  up.     Steevens. 

^  And  Dick  the  butcher,]     In  the  first  copy  thus  : 

"  Why  there's  Dick  the  butcher,  and  Robin  the  sadler,  and 
Will  tliat  came  a  wooing  to  our  Nan  last  Sunday,  and  Harry  and 
Tom,  and  (iregory,  that  should  have  your  parnell,  and  a  great 
sort  more,  is  come  from  Rochester  and  from  Maidstone,  and 
Canterbury,  and  all  the  towns  hereabouts,  and  we  must  all  be 
lords,  or  squires,  as  soon  as  Jack  Cade  is  king.     Malone. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VJ.  295 

*  Geo.  Then  is  sin  struck  down  like  an  ox,  and 

*  iniquity's  throat  cut  like  a  calf. 

*  John.  And  Smith  the  weaver : 

*  Geo.  Argo,  their  thread  of  life  is  spun. 

*  John.  Come,  come,  let's  fall  in  with  them. 

Drum.     Enter  Cade,  Dick  the  Butcher,  Smith 
the  Weaver,  and  Others  in  great  number. 

*  Cade.  We  John  Cade,   so  termed  of  our  sup- 

*  posed  father, 

*  Dick.  Or  rather,  of  stealing  a  cade  of  herrings  ^. 

[Aside. 

*  Cade.  —  for  our  enemies  shall  fall  before  us  ^, 

9  —  a  CADE  of  herrings.]  That  is,  a  barrel  of  herrings.  I 
suppose  the  word  keg,  which  is  now  used,  is  cade  corrupted. 

Johnson. 
A  cade  is  less  than  a  barrel.  The  quantity  it  should  contain  is 
ascertained  by  the  accounts  of  the  Celeress  of  the  Abbey  of 
Berking.  "  Memorandum  that  a  barrel  of  herryng  shold  contene 
a  thousand  herryngs,  and  a  cade  of  herryng  six  hundreth,  six 
score  to  the  hundreth."     Mon.  Aug.  i.  S3.     Malone. 

Nash  speaks  of  having  weighed  one  of  Gabriel  Harvey's  books 
against  a  cade  of  herrings,  and  ludicrously  says,  "That  the 
rebel  Jacke  Cade  was  the  first  that  devised  to  put  redde  herrings 
in  cades,  and  from  him  they  have  their  name."  Praise  of  the  Red 
Herring,  1599.  Cade,  however,  is  derived  from  Cadus,  Lat.  a 
cask  or  barrel.     Steevens. 

*  —  our  enemies  shall  fall  before  us,]  He  alludes  to  his 
name  Cade,  from  cado,  Lat.  to  Jail.  He  has  too  much  learning 
for  his  character.     Johnson. 

"  We  John  Cade,  &c.]  This  passage,  I  think,  should  be  re- 
gulated thus  : 

"  Cade.  We  John  Cade,  so  termed  of  our  supposed  father, 

for  our  enemies  shall  fall  before  us  ; 

"  Dick.  Or  rather  of  stealing  a  cade  of  herrings. 
"  Cade.  Inspired  with  the  spirit,"  &c.     Tyrwhitt. 
In  the  old  play  the  corresponding  passage  stands  thus  : 
"  I  John  Cade,  so  named  for  my  valiancy, — 
"  Dick.  Or  rather  ybr  stealing  of  a  cade  of  sprats." 
The  transposition  recommended  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  is  so  plausi- 
ble, that  I  had  once  regulated  the  text  accordingly.     But  Dick's 
quibbling  on  the  word  of  (which  is  used  by  Cade,   according  to 
the  phraseology  of  our  author's  time,  for  by,  and  as  employed  by 


296  SECOND  PART  OF  ACTif^. 

'  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  putting  down  kings  and 

*  princes, — Command  silence. 

Djck.  Silence  ! 

C.JDE.  My  father  was  a  Mortimer, — 
Dick.  He  was  an  honest  man,  and  a  good  brick- 
layer, l^^^ide. 

*  Cade.  My  mother  a  Plantagenet, — 

*  Dick.  I  knew  her  well,  she  was  a  midwife. 

[Aside. 

*  Cade.  My  wife  descended  of  the  Lacies, — 
Dick.  She  was,  indeed,  a  pedlars  daughter,  and 

sold  many  laces.  [Aside. 

'  Smith.  But,  now  of  late,  not  able  to  travel  with 

*  her  furred  pack ',  she  washes  bucks  here  at  home. 

[Aside. 

*  Cade.  Therefore  am  I  of  an  honourable  house. 

Dick.  Ay,  by  my  faith,  the  field  is  honour- 
able ^ ;  and  there  was  he  born,  under  a  hedge  ;  for 
his  father  had  never  a  house,  but  the  cage  ^. 

[Aside. 

Dick,  signifies — on  accoicnt  of,)  is  so  much  in  Shakspeare's  man- 
ner, that  no  change  ought,  I  think,  to  be  made.  If  the  words 
"  Or  rather  of  stealing,"  &c.  be  postponed  to — "  For  our  enemies 
shall  fall  before  us,"  Dick  then,  as  at  present,  would  assert — that 
Cade  is  not  so  called  on  account  of  a  particular  theft;  which  in- 
deed would  correspond  sufficiently  with  the  old  play ;  but  the 
quibble  on  the  word  nf,  which  appears  very  like  a  conceit  of  Shak- 
speare,  would  be  destroyed.  Cade,  as  the  speeches  stand  in  the 
folio,  proceeds  to  assign  the  origin  of  his  name  without  paying  any 
regard  to  what  Dick  has  said. 

0/is  used  again  in  Coriolanus,  in  the  sense  which  it  bears  in 
Cade's  speech  : — "  We  have  been  called  so  of  many."  i.  e.  by 
many.     Malone. 

^  —  furred  pack,]  A  wallet  or  knapsack  of  skin  with  the  hair 
outward.     Johnson. 

3  —  the  FIELD  is  honourable  ;]      Perhaps  a  quibble  between 
Jield  in  its  heraldick,  and  in  its  common  acceptation,  was  designed, 

Steevens. 

4  —  but  the  CAGE.]  A  cage  was  formerly  a  term  for  a  prison. 
See  Minsheu,  in  v.     We  yet  talk  of  jail-birds.     Malone. 


sc.  11,  KING  HENRY  VI.  297 

*  Cade.  Valiant  I  am. 

*  Smith.  'A  must  needs  ;  for  beggary  is  valiant. 

[Aside. 

Cade.  I  am  able  to  endure  much. 

Dick.  No  question  of  that;  for  I  have  seen  him 
whipped  three  market  days  together.  \Adde. 

Cade.  I  fear  neither  sword  nor  fire. 

Smith.  He  need  not  fear  the  sword,  for  his  coat 
is  of  proof  \  [Aside. 

Dick.  But,  methinks,  he  should  stand  in  fear  of 
fire,  being  burnt  i'  the  hand  for  stealing  of  sheep. 

[Aside. 

Cade.  Be  brave  then  ;  for  your  captain  is  brave, 
and  vows  reformation.  There  shall  be,  in  England, 
seven  half-penny  loaves  sold  for  a  penny :  the  three- 
hooped  pot  shall  have  ten  hoops  ^ ;  and  I  will  make 
it  felony,  to  drink  small  beer  :  all  the  realm  shall 
be  in  common,  and  in  Cheapside  shall  my  palfry 

There  is  scarce  a  village  in  England  which  has  not  a  temporary 
place  of  confinement,  still  called  The  Cage.     Steevens. 

^  — for  his  coat  is  of  proof.]  A  quibble  between  two  senses 
of  the  word  ;  one  as  being  able  to  resist,  the  other  as  being  txiell- 
tried,  that  is,  long  worn.     Hanmer. 

^  — the  THREE-HOOPED  pot  shall  have  ten  hoops;]  In  The 
Gul's  Horn-Booke,  a  satirical  pamphlet  by  Deckar,  1609,  hoojis 
are  mentioned  among  other  drinking  measures  :  "  —  his  hoops, 
cans,  half-cans,"  &c.  And  Nash,  in  his  Pierce  Penniles.se  his 
Supplication  to  the  Devil,  1595,  says :  "  I  believe  honpes  in 
quart  pots  were  invented  to  that  end,  that  every  man  should  take 
his  Aoo/;e,  and  no  more." 

It  appears  from  a  passage  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  by  Ben  Jonson, 
that  "  burning  of  cans  "  was  one  of  the  offices  of  a  city  magistrate. 
I  suppose  he  means  burning  such  as  were  not  of  statutable  mea- 
sure.    Steevens. 

An  anonymous  commentator  supposes,  perhaps  with  more 
truth,  that  "  the  burning  of  cans  "  was,  marking  them  with  a  red- 
hot  iron,  which  is  still  practised  by  the  magistrate  in  many  coun- 
try boroughs,  in  proof  of  their  being  statutable  measure. — These 
cans,  it  should  be  observed,  were  of  wood.     Henley. 

Mr.  VVhalley  has  given  this  explanation  in  a  note  on  the  passage 
quoted  from  Cynthia's  Revels.     Boswell. 


298  SECOJND  PART  OF  act  ly. 

go  to  grass.     And,  when  I  am  king,  (as  king  I  will 
be) 

All.  God  save  your  majesty  ! 

'  Cade.  I  thank  you,  good  people : — there  shall 

*  be  no  money " ;    all  shall  eat  and  drink  on  my 

*  score ;  and  I  will  apparel  them  all  in  one  livery, 

*  that  they  may  agree  like  brothers,  and  worship  me 

*  their  lord. 

*  Dick.  The  first  thing  we  do,  let's  kill  all  the 

*  lawyers. 

Cade.  Nay,  that  I  mean  to  do.  Is  not  this  a  la- 
mentable thing  ^,  that  of  the  skin  of  an  innocent 
lamb  should  be  made  parchment  ?  that  parchment, 
being  scribbled  o'er,  should  undo  a  man  ?  Some 
say,  the  bee  stings  :  but  I  say,  'tis  the  bee's  wax, 
for  I  did  but  seal  once  to  a  thing,  and  I  was  never 
mine  own  man  since.     How  now  ?  who's  there  ? 

Enter  some,  bringing  in  the  Clerk  of  Chatham^. 

Smith.  The  clerk  of  Chatham  :  he  can  write  and 
read,  and  cast  accompt. 
Cade.  O  monstrous  ! 


7  —  there  shall  be  no  money ;]  To  mend  the  world  by  ba- 
nishing money  is  an  old  contrivance  of  those  who  did  not  consider 
that  the  quarrels  and  mischiefs  which  arise  from  money,  as  the 
sign  or  ticket  of  riches,  must,  if  money  were  to  cease,  arise  imme- 
diately from  riches  themselves,  and  could  never  be  at  an  end  till 
every  man  was  contented  with  his  own  share  of  the  goods  of  life. 

Johnson. 

^  Is  not  this  a  lamentable  thing,  &c.]  This  speech  was  trans- 
posed by  Shakspeare,  it  being  found  in  the  old  play  in  a  subse- 
quent scene.     Malone. 

9  —  the  Clerk  of  Chatham.']  The  person  whom  Shakspeare 
makes  Clerk  of  Chatham  should  seem  to  have  been  one  Thomas 
Baijly,  a  reputed  necromancer,  or  fortune-teller,  at  Whitechapel. 
He  had  formerly  been  a  bosom  friend  of  Cade's,  and  of  the  same 
profession.      W.  Worcester,  \i.  ^1\.     Ritson. 

This  person  is  a  nonentity  in  history,  and,  in  all  probability,  a 
character  invented  by  the  writer  of  the  play.  It  is  presumed  that 
few  will  be  inclined  to  agree  with  Mr.  Ritson.     Douce. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  299 

Smith.  We  took  him  setting  of  boys'  copies  \ 

Cade.  Here's  a  villain  ! 

Smith.  H'as  a  book  in  his  pocket,  with  red  let- 
ters in't. 

Cade.  Nay,  then  he  is  a  conjurer. 

Dick.  Nay,  he  can  make  obligations",  and  write 
court-hand. 

*  Cade.  I  am  sorry  fort :  the  man  is  a  proper 
'  man,  on  mine  honour  ;  unless  I  find  him  guilty, 
'  he  shall  not  die,~Come  hither,  sirrah,  I  must  ex- 
'  amine  thee  :  What  is  thy  name  ? 

Clerk.  Emmanuel. 

Dick.  They  use  to  write  it  on  the  top  of  letters  ''; 
— ^'Twill  go  hard  with  you. 

*  Cade.  Let  me  alone : — Dost  thou  use  to  write 
'  thy  name  ?  or  hast  thou  a  mark  to  thyself,  like  an 
'  honest  plain-dealing  man  ? 

1  We  took  him,  Sic]  We  must  suppose  that  Smith  had  taken 
the  Clerk  some  time  before,  and  left  him  in  the  custody  of  those 
who  now  bring  him  in.  In  the  old  play  IVill  the  iKeaver  enters 
with  the  Clerk,  though  he  has  not  long  before  been  conversing 
with  Cade.  Perhaps  it  was  intended  that  Smith  should  go  out 
after  his  speech,  ending — "  for  his  coat  is  of  proof :  "  but  no  Exit 
is  marked  in  the  old  copy.  It  is  a  matter  of  little  consequence. — 
It  is,  I  think,  most  probable  that  Will  was  the  true  name  of  this 
character,  as  in  the  old  play,  (so  Dick,  George,  John,  &c.)  and 
that  Smith,  the  name  of  some  low  actor,  has  crept  into  the  folio 
by  mistake.     Malone. 

2  — obligations,]     That  is,  6o??c?5.     Malone. 

3  They  use  to  write  it  on  the  top  of  letters;]  i.  e.  Of  letters 
missive,  and  such  like  publick  acts.     See  Mabillon's  Diplomata. 

Warburton, 
In  the   old   anonymous  play,   called  The  Famous  Victories  of 
Henry  V.  containing  the  Honourable  Battel  of  Agincourt,   I  find 
the  same  circumstance.    The  Archbishop  of  Burges  (i.  e.  Bruges) 
is  the  speaker,  and  addresses  himself  to  King  Henry  : 
"  I  beseech  your  grace  to  deliver  me  your  safe 
"  Conduct,  under  your  broad  seal  Emanuel." 
The  King  in  answer  says  : 

" deliver  him  safe  conduct 

"  Under  our  broad  seal  Emamid.'"     Steevens. 


300  SECOND  PART  OF  yiCT  iv. 

Clerk.  Sir,   I  thank  God,  I  have  been  so  well 
brought  up,  that  I  can  write  my  name. 

'  j4ll.  He  hath  confessed  :  away  with  him,  he's 

*  a  villain,  and  a  traitor. 

*  Cade.  Away  with  him,  I   say :  hang  him  with 

*  his  pen  and  ink-horn  about  his  neck. 

\Exeunt  some  with  the  Clerk. 

Enter  Michael. 

*  Mich.  Where's  our  general  ? 

*  Cade.  Here  I  am,  thou  particular  fellow. 

*  Mich.  Fly,  fly,  fly!    sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and 

*  his  brother  are  hard  by,  with  the  king's  forces. 

*  Cade.  Stand,    villain,    stand,    or   Fll  fell  thee 

*  down  :  He  shall  be  encountered  with  a  man   as 

*  good  as  himself:  He  is  but  a  knight,  is  'a  ? 

'  Mich.  No. 

*  Cade.    To  equal  him,   I   will  make  myself  a 

*  knight  presently ;    Rise    up  sir  John  Mortimer. 

*  Now  have  at  him  '*. 

Enter  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford,  and  JVilliam  his 
Brother,  with  Drum  and  Forces. 

*  Staf.  Rebellious  hinds,  the  filth  and  scum  of 

Kent, 

*  Mark'd  for  the  gallows, — lay  your  weapons  down, 

*  Home  to  your  cottages,  forsake  this  groom ; — 

*  The  king  is  merciful,  if  you  revolt. 

*  JV.  Staf.  But  angry,  wrathful,  and  inclin'd  to 

blood. 


4  —  have  at  him.]     After  this  speech  the  oUl  play  has  the  fol- 
lowing words  : 

"  —  Is  there  any  more  of  them  that  be  knights  ? 
"  Tom.  Yea,  his  brother. 

"  Cade.  Then  kneel  down,  Dick  Butcher;  rise  up  sir 
"  Dick  Butcher.     Sound  up  the  drum." 


sen.  KING  HENRY  VI.  301 

*  If  you  go  forward  :  therefore  yield,  or  die. 
C^DE.  As  for  these  silken-coated  slaves,  I  pass 

not  ^ ; 
It  is  to  you,  good  people,  that  I  speak, 

*  O'er  whom,  in  time  to  come,  I  hope  to  reign ; 

*  For  I  am  rightful  heir  unto  the  crown. 

'  St^f.  Villain,  thy  father  was  a  plasterer  ; 

*  And  thou  thyself,  a  shearman.  Art  thou  not  ? 

Cade.  And  Adam  was  a  gardener. 

*  W.  Staf.  And  what  of  that  ? 

Cade.  Marry,  this  : — Edmund  Mortimer,  earl  of 
March, 
Married  the  duke  of  Clarence'  daughter ;  Did  he 
not  ? 

*  Staf.  Ay,  sir. 

Cade.  By  her  he  had  two  children  at  one  birth. 
JV.  Staf.  That's  false. 

'  Cade.  Ay,  there's  the  question  ;  but,  I  say,  'tis 
true  : 

*  The  elder  of  them,  being  put  to  nurse, 

*  Was  by  a  beggar-woman  stol'n  away ; 

'  And,  ignorant  of  his  birth  and  parentage, 

*  Became  a  bricklayer,  when  he  came  to  age : 

*  His  son  am  I ;  deny  it,  if  you  can. 

Dick.  Nay,  'tis  too  true ;  therefore  he  shall  be 
king. 

Smith.  Sir,  he  made  a  chimney  in  my  father's 
house,  and  the  bricks  are  alive  at  this  day  to  testify 
it;  therefore,  deny  it  not. 

*  Staf.  And  will  you  credit  this  base  drudge's 

words, 

*  That  speaks  he  knows  not  what  ? 

*  All.  Ay,  marry,  will  we;  therefore  get  ye  gone. 

•^  —  I  pass  not  ;]     I  pay  them  no  regard.     Johnson. 
So,  in  Drayton's  Quest  of  Cynthia  : 

"  Transform  me  to  what  shape  you  can, 

"  \j)nss  not  what  it  be."     Steevens. 


302  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

TV.  Staf.    Jack   Cade,  the  duke  of  York  hath 
taught  you  this. 

*  Cade.  He  lies,  for  I  invented  it  myself. 
[Aside. ~\ — Go  to,  sirrah,  Tell  the  king  from  me, 
that — for  his  father's  sake,  Henry  the  fifth,  in  whose 
time  boys  went  to  span-counter  for  French  crowns, 
— I  am  content  he  shall  reign ;  but  I'll  be  protector 
over  him. 

'  Dick.  And,  furthermore,   we'll  have  the  lord 

*  Say's  head,  for  selling  the  dukedom  of  Maine. 

*  Cade.  And  good  reason ;  for  thereby  is  Eng- 

*  land  maimed  ^,  and  fain  to  go  with  a  staff,  but 
'  that  my  puissance  holds  it  up.     Fellow  kings,  I 

*  tell  you  that  that  lord  Say  hath  gelded  the  com- 

*  monwealth'' ,  and  made  it  an  eunuch :  and  more 

*  than  that,  he  can  speak  French,  and  therefore  he 
'  is  a  traitor. 

*  Staf.  O  gross  and  miserable  ignorance  ! 

*  Cade,  Nay,  answer,  if  you  can :  The  French- 

*  men  are  our  enemies :  go  to  then,  I  ask  but  this ; 

<>  —  is  England  maimed,]  The  folio  has — main'd.  The  cor- 
rection was  made  from  the  old  play.  I  am  not,  however,  sure  that 
a  blunder  was  not  intended.  Daniel  has  the  same  conceit ;  Civil 
Wiiifi,  1595  : 

"  Anjou  and  Maine,  the  maim  that  foul  appears — ." 

Maloxe. 

'  —  hath  GELDED  the  commonwealth,]  Shakspeare  has  here 
transgressed  a  rule  laid  down  by  TuUy,  De  Oratore ;  "  Nolo 
morte  dici  African!  castratam  esse  rempublicam."  The  character 
of  the  speaker,  however,  may  countenance  such  indelicacy.  In 
other  places  our  author,  less  excuseably,  talks  oi  gelding  purses, 
patrimonies,  and  continents.     Steevens. 

This  ])eculiar  e.Kpression  is  Shakspeare's  own,  not  being  found 
in  the  old  play.  In  King  Richard  II.  Ross  says  that  Henry  of 
Bolingbroke  has  been — 

"  Bereft  and  gelded  of  his  patrimony." 

So  Cade  here  says,  that  the  commonwealth  is  hcrejl  of  \vhat 
it  before  possessed,  namely,  certain  provinces  in  France. 

Malone. 

See  vol.  iv.  p,  315,  n.  8.     Boswell. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  303 

*  Can  he,  that  speaks  with  the  tongue  of  an  enemy. 

*  be  a  good  counsellor,  or  no  ? 

*  All.    No,  no ;    and  therefore  we'll  have    his 

*  head. 

*  fV.  Staf.  Well,  seeing  gentle  words  will  not 

prevail, 

*  Assail  them  with  the  army  of  the  king. 

*  Staf.    Herald,  away :    and,   throughout   every 

town, 

*  Proclaim  them  traitors  that  are  up  with  Cade ; 
'  That  those  which  fly  before  the  battle  ends, 

'  May,  even  in  their  wives'  and  children's  sight, 

*  Be  hang'd  up  for  example  at  their  doors: — 

'  And  you,  that  be  the  king's  friends,  follow  me. 

\_Ea:eunt  the  two  Staffords,  and  Forces. 

*  Cade.  And  you,  that  love  the  commons,  fol- 

low me. — 

*  Now  show  yourselves  men,  'tis  for  liberty. 

*  We  will  not  leave  one  lord,  one  gentleman : 

*  Spare  none,  but  such  as  go  in  clouted  shoon ; 

*  For  they  are  thrifty  honest  men,  and  such 

*  As  would  (but  that  they  dare  not,)  take  our  parts. 

*  Dick.  They  are  all  in  order,  and  march  toward 

us. 

*  Cade.  But  then  are  we  in  order,  when  we  are 

*  most  out  of  order.     Come,  march  forward  ^. 

\_E.veiint. 

*  —  Come,  march  forward.]  In  the  first  copy,  instead  of  this 
speech,  we  have  only — "  Come,  Sirs,  St.  George  for  us,  and 
Kent.''     MA.LONE. 


304  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

SCENE  III. 

Another  Part  of  Blackheath. 

Alarums.     The  txco  Parties  enter ^  and  Jight,  and 
both  the  Staffords  are  slain. 

*  Cade.  Where's  Dick,  the  butcher  of  Ashford  ? 

*  Dick.   Here,  sir. 

*  Cade.    They  fell  before  thee  like  sheep  and 

*  oxen,  and  thou  behavedst  thyself  as  if  thou  hadst 

*  been  in  thine  own  slaughter-house  :  therefore  thus 
'  will  I  reward  thee, — The   Lent  shall  be  as  long 

*  again  as  it  is  ^ ;  and  thou  shalt  have  a  license  to 

*  kill  for  a  hundred  lacking  one,  a  week'. 

9  — as  long  AGAIN  as  it  is ;]  The  word  again,  which  was 
certainly  omitted  in  the  folio  by  accident,  was  restored  from  the 
old  play,  by  Mr.  Steevens,  on  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Johnson. 

Malone. 

'  —  and  thou  shalt  have  a  licence  to  kill  for  a  hundred  lacking 
one,  A  WEEK.]  The  last  two  words  I  have  restored  from  the 
original  play.  In  that  piece  the  passage  stood  thus  : — "  and  the 
Lent  shall  be  as  long  again  as  it  xuas,  and  thou  shalt  have  a  licence 
iov fourscore  and  one,  a  loeck.''  Shakspeare  changed  the  number 
to  ninety-nine,  perhaps  from  that  number  being  familiar  to  him, 
being  a  common  term  or  period  of  duration  in  leases.  But,  the 
words — "  a  week,"  which  are  found  in  the  original  play,  must  have 
been  accidentally  omitted  in  the  transcript  or  at  the  press ;  for 
the  passage  is  unintelligible  without  them.  In  the  reign  of  Eli- 
zabeth, butchers  were  strictly  enjoined  not  to  sell  flesh  meat 
in  Lent,  not  with  a  religious  view,  but  for  the  double  purpose  of 
diminishing  the  consumption  of  flesh  meat  during  that  period,  and 
so  making  it  more  plentiful  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  and  of  en- 
couraging the  fisheries  and  augmenting  the  number  of  seamen. 
Butchers  who  had  interest  at  court,  frequently  obtained  a  dispen- 
sation from  this  junction,  and  procured  a  licence  to  kill  a  certain 
limited  number  of  beasts  a  iveek,  during  Lent,  of  which  indul- 
gence the  wants  of  invalids  who  could  not  subsist  without  ani- 
mal food,  was  generally  made  the  pretence.  See  the  Proclamations 
in  the  Library  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.    Malone. 


sc.  jy.  KING  HENRY  VI.  305 

'  Dick.  I  desire  no  more. 

*  Cade.  And,  to  speak  truth,  thou  deservest  no 

*  less.     This  monument  of  the  victory  will  I  bear'; 

*  and  the  bodies  shall  be  dragged  at  my  horse'  heels, 

*  till  I  do  come  to  London,  where  we  will  have  the 

*  mayor's  sword  borne  before  us. 

*  Dick.    If  we  mean  to  thrive    and  do  good  ", 

*  break  open  the  gaols,  and  let  out  the  prisoners. 

*  Cade.  Fear  not  that,  I  warrant  thee.      Come, 

*  let's  march  towards  London.  [^E.veu7it. 


SCENE  IV. 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry,  read'mg  a  Supplication  ;  the 
Duke  of  BrcKisGHAM,  and  Lord  Say  zvith  him : 
at  a  distance.  Queen  Margaret,  mourning  over 
Suffolk's  Head. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Oft  have  I  heard — that  grief  softens 
the  mind, 

*  And  makes  it  fearful  and  degenerate ; 

*  Think  therefore  on  revenge,  and  cease  to  weep. 

*  But  who  can  cease  to  weep,  and  look  on  this  ? 

*  Here  may  his  head  lie  on  my  throbbing  breast : 

'  This  monument  of  the  victory  will  I  bear;]  Here  Cade 
must  be  supposed  to  take  ott'  Stafford's  armour.     So,  Holinshed  : 

"  Jack  Cade,  upon  his  victory  against  the  Staffords,  apparelled 
himself  in  Sir  Humphrey's  brigandine,  set  full  of  gilt  nails,  and 
so  in  some  glorv  returned  again  toward  London."     Steevens. 

Sir  Humphrey  Stafl'ord,  who  was  killed  at  Sevenoke  in  Cade's 
rebellion,  is  buried  at  Bromsgrove  in  Staffordshire.     \''aillant. 

^  If  we  mean  to  thrive  and  do  good,  &c.]  I  think  it  should  be 
read  thus :   "  If  we  mean  to  thrive,   do  good ;  break  open  the 

gaols,"  &C.       JoHXSON. 

The  speaker  designs  to  say — "  If  we  ourselves  mean  to  thrive, 
and  do  good  to  others,"  &c.     The  old  reading  is  the  true  one. 

Steevens. 
VOL.   XYIII.  X 


306  SECOND  PART  OF  ^jct  ir, 

*  But  Where's  the  body  that  I  should  embrace  ? 

'  Buck.  What  answer  makes  your  grace  to  the 
'  rebels'  supplication  "  ? 

*  K.  Hen.  I'll  send  some  holy  bishop  to  entreat  ^ : 
'  For  God  forbid,  so  many  simple  souls 

'  Should  perish  by  the  sword  !  And  I  myself, 
'  Rather  than  bloody  war  shall  cut  them  short, 
'  Will  parley  with  Jack  Cade  their  general, — 
'  But  stay,  I'll  read  it  over  once  again. 

*  Q.  M^R.  Ah,    barbarous    villains!     hath    this 

lovely  face 

*  Rul'd,  like  a  wandering  planet  \  over  me  ; 

*  And  could  it  not  enforce  them  to  relent, 

*  That  were  unworthy  to  behold  the  same  ? 

'  K.  Hen.  Lord  Say,  Jack  Cade  hath  sworn  to 
have  thy  head. 

3  —  to  the  rebels'  supplication  ?]  "  And  to  the  entent  that  the 
cause  of  this  glorious  capitaynes  comyng  thither  might  be  sha- 
dowed from  the  king  and  his  counsayll,  he  sent  to  him  an  humble 
supplication, — affirmyng  his  commyng  not  to  be  against  him,  but 
against  divers  of  his  counsayl,"  &c.     Hall,  Henrv  VI.  fol.  77. 

Malone. 

4  I'll  send  some  holy  bishop  to  entreat :]  Here,  as  in  some 
other  places,  our  author  has  fallen  into  an  inconsistency,  by  some- 
times following  and  sometimes  deserting  his  original.  In  the  old 
play,  the  King  says  not  a  word  of  sending  any  bishop  to  the  re- 
bels ;  but  says,  he  will  himself  come  and  parly  with  them,  and 
in  the  mean  while  order  Clifford  and  Bucldngham  to  gather  an 
array  and  to  go  to  them.  Shakspeare,  in  new  modelling  this 
scene,  found  in  Holinshed's  Chronicle  the  following  words  : 
"  —  to  whome  [Cade]  were  sent  from  the  king,  the  Archbishop  of 
Caiiterburie  and  Humphrey  duke  of  Buckingham,  to  common 
with  him  of  his  griefs  and  requests."  This  gave  birth  to  the  line 
before  us  ;  which  our  author  afterwards  forgot,  having  introduced 
in  Scene  VIII.  only  Buckingham  and  Clifford,  conformably  to  the 
old  play.     Malone. 

5  Rul'd,  like  a  wandering  planet,]  Predominated  irresistibly 
over  my  passions,  as  the  planets  over  the  lives  of  those  that  are 
born  under  their  influence.     Johnson. 

The  old  play  led  Shakspeare  into  this  strange  exhibition  ;  a 
queen  with  the  head  of  her  murdered  paramour  on  her  bosom,  in 
presence  of  her  husband?     Malone. 


;sc,  ir,  KING  HENRY  VI.  307 

*  8ay,  Ay,  but  I  hope,  your  highness  shall  have 

his. 
K>  Hen.   How,  now,  madam  "^  Still 
Lamenting,  and  m.ourning  for  Suffolk's  death  .'' 
I  fear,  my  love  ^  if  that  I  had  been  dead, 
Thou  would  est  not  have  mourn'd  so  much  for  me. 
Q.  Mab.  No,  my  love,  I  should  not  mourn,  but 
die  for  thee. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  K.  Hex.  How  novv^ !  what  news  ?  why  com'st 

thou  in  such  haste  ? 

*  Mess.  The  rebels  are  in  wSouthwark  ;  Fly,  my 

lord  ! 

*  Jack  Cade  proclaims  himself  lord  Mortimer, 

*  Descended  from  the  duke  of  Clarence'  house  ; 

*  And  calls  your  grace  usurper,  openly, 

*  And  vows  to  crown  himself  in  Westminster. 
'  His  army  is  a  ragged  multitude 

*  Of  hinds  and  peasants,  rude  and  merciless: 

*  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  his  brother's  death 

*  Hath  given  them  heart  and  courage  to  proceed : 

*  All  scholars,  lawyers,  courtiers,  gentlemen, 

*  They   call — false   caterpillars,    and    intend   their 

death. 

*  K.  Hen.    O   graceless  men !    they  know  not 

what  they  do '. 

*  Buck.  My  gracious  lord,  retire  toKenelworth*^, 

^  1  fear,  my  love.]  The  folio  has  here — "I  fear  me,  love,"  which 
is  certainly  sense ;  but  as  we  find  "  ??z_?/ love "  in  the  old  play, 
and  these  lines  were  adopted  without  retouching,  I  suppose  the 
transcriber's  ear  deceived  him.     Malone. 

7  — what  they  do.]     Instead  of  this  line,  in  the  old  copy  we 
have — 

"  Go,  bid  Buckingham  and  Clifford  gather 
"  An  army  up,  and  meet  with  the  rebels."     Malone. 
^  — retire  to  Kenelworth,]     The  old  copy — Killin^imrth, 
which    (as  Sir  William  Blackstone  observes)  is  still  the  modern 
pronunciation.     Stkevens. 

X  2 


308  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

'  Until  a  power  be  rais'd  to  put  them  down. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Ah !  were  the  duke  of  Suffolk  now 

alive, 

*  These  Kentish  rebels  would  be  soon  appeas'd. 
'  K.  Hen.  Lord  Say,  the  traitors  hate  thee, 

'  Therefore  away  with  us  to  Kenelworth. 

*  Say.  So  might  your  grace's  person  be  in  danger ; 
'  The  sight  of  me  is  odious  in  their  eyes : 

'  And  therefore  in  this  city  will  I  stay, 
'  And  live  alone  as  secret  as  I  may. 

Enter  ano titer  Messenger. 

*  2  Mess.  Jack  Cade  hath  gotten  London-bridge ; 

the  citizens 

*  Fly  and  forsake  their  houses : 

*  The  rascal  people,  thirsting  after  prey, 

*  Join  with  the  traitor  ;  and  they  jointly  swear, 

*  To  spoil  the  city,  and  your  royal  court. 

*  Buck.  Then  linger  not,  my  lord ;  away,  take 

horse. 

*  K.  Hex.    Come,  Margaret ;    God,    our  hope, 

will  succour  us. 
*.Q.  Mar.  My  hope  is  gone,  now  Suffolk  is  de- 
ceas'd. 

*  K.  Hen.  Farewell,  my  lord  ;  [To  Lord  Say.'] 

trust  not  the  Kentish  rebels. 

*  Buck.  Trust  no  body,  for  fear  you  be  betray'd  ^. 
'  Say.  The  trust  I  have  is  in  mine  innocence, 

'  And  therefore  am  I  bold  and  resolute.      [Exeunt. 

In  the  letter  concerning  Queen  Elizabeth's  entertainment  at 
this  place,  we  find,  "  the  castle  hath  name  of  KylleUno;iworth  ; 
but  of  truth,  grounded  upon  faythfull  story,   Kenekooorth." 

Farmer. 
9  —  BE  betray'd,]     Be,  which  was  accidentally  omitted  in  the 
old  copy,  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

Malone. 


sc.  VI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  309 

SCENE  V. 

The  Same.     The  Tower. 

Enter  Lord  Scales,  and  Others,  o?i  the  Walls. 
Then  enter  certain  Citizens,  below. 

Scales.  How  now  ?  is  Jack  Cade  slain  ? 

1  CiT.  No,  my  lord,  nor  likely  to  be  slain  ;  for 
they  have  won  the  bridge,  killing  all  those  that  with- 
stand them  :  The  lord  mayor  craves  aid  of  your 
honour  from  the  Tower,  to  defend  the  city  from 
the  rebels. 

Scales.  Such  aid  as  I  can  spare,  you  shall  com- 
mand ; 
But  I  am  troubled  here  with  them  myself. 
The  rebels  have  assay'd  to  win  the  Tower. 
But  get  you  to  Smithfield,  and  gather  head. 
And  thither  I  will  send  you  Matthew  Gough  : 
Fight  for  your  king,  your  country,  and  your  lives ; 
And  so  farewell,  for  I  must  hence  again.   \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  VI. 

The  Same.     Cannon  Street. 

Enter  Jack  Cade,  and  his  Followers.     He  strikes 
his  Stajf  on  London-stone. 

Cade.  Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this  city.  And 
here,  sitting  upon  London-stone,  I  charge  and  com- 
mand, that,  of  the  city's  cost,  the  pissing-conduit 
run  nothing  but  claret  ^  wine  this  first  year  of  our 

'  —  the  pissing-conduit  run  nothing  but  claret  — ]  This 
pissing  conduit,  I  suppose,  was  the  Sfandarde  in  Cheape,  which, 
as  Stowe  relates,  "  John  Wels  grocer,  maior  1430,  caused  to  be 


310  SECOiND  PART  OF  ^ct  if, 

reign.  And  now,  henceforward,  it  shall  be  treason 
for  any  that  calls  me  other  than — lord  Mortimer. 

Enter  a  Soldier,  runnino-. 
Sold.  Jack  Cade !  Jack  Cade ! 
Cade.  Knock  him  down  there".  [They  kill  him, 
*  Smith.  If  this  fellow  be  wise,  he'll  never  call 

*  you  Jack   Cade  more  ;  I   think,  he  hath  a  very 

*  fair  warning. 

Dick.  My  lord,  there's  an  army  gathered  toge- 
ther in  Smithfield. 

Cade.  Come  then,  let's  go  fight  with  them  :  But, 
first,  go  and  set  London-bridge  on  fire  '^ ;  and,  if 

made  with  a  small  cesterne  for  fresh  water,  hailing  one  cocke  con- 
tinunlhj  running.'"—"'  I  have  wept  so  immoderately  and  lauishly, 
(says  Jacke  Wilton,)  that  I  thought  verily  my  palat  had  bin  turned 
to  i\\Q  pissing  conduit  in  honAon.'"     Life,   1594'.     Ritson. 

Whatever  offence  to  modern  delicacy  may  be  given  by  this 
imagery,  it  appears  to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  French,  to 
whose  entertainments,  as  well  as  our  streets,  it  was  sufficiently 
familiar,  as  I  learn  from  a  very  curious  and  entertaining  work 
entitled  Histoire  de  la  Vie  privee  des  Fran^ais,  par  M.  le  Grand 
D'Aussi,  3  vols.  8vo.  J7S2.  At  a  feast  given  by  Phillippe-le- 
Bon  there  was  exhibited  "  une  statue  de  femme,  dont  les  mam- 
melles  fournissaient  d'hippocras  ;  "  and  the  Roman  de  Tirant-le- 
Blanc  affords  such  another  circumstance  :  "  Outre  une  statue  de 
femme,  des  mammelles  de  laquelle  jallissoit  une  liqueur,  il  y 
avait  encore  une  jeune  fille,  &c.  EUe  etoit  nue,  et  tenoit  ses 
mains  baissees  et  serrees  contre  son  corps,  comme  pour  s'en  couv- 
rir.  De  dessous  ses  mains,  il  sortoit  une  fonlaine  de  vin  deli- 
cieux,"  &c.  Again,  in  another  feast  made  by  the  Philippe  afore- 
said, in  1453,  there  was  "  une  statue  d'enfant  nu,  pose  sur  une 
roche,  et  qui,  de  sa  broquctte,  pissnit  eau-rose."     Steevens. 

^  Knock  him  dovv^n  there.]  So,  Holinshed,  p.  634  :  "  He 
also  put  to  execution  in  Southwark  diverse  persons,  some  for 
breaking  his  ordinance,  and  other  being  his  old  acquaintance,  lest 
they  should  bewraie  his  base  linage,  disparaging  him  for  his 
usurped  surname  of  Mortimer."     Steevens. 

^  — set  London-bridge  on  fire;]  At  that  time  London- 
hridge  was  made  of  wood.  "  After  that,  (says  Hall,)  he  entered 
London  and  cut  the  ropes  of  the  rfraw-bridge."  The  houses  on 
London-bridge  were  in  this  rebellion  burnt,  and  many  of  the  inha- 
bitants perished.     Malonk. 


sc.rn.  KING  HENRY  VI.  311 

you  can,  burn  down  the  Tower  too.     Come,  let's 
away.  [^Exeunt. 

SCENE  Vll. 

The  Same.     Smithfield. 

Alarum.     Enter,  o?i  one  side.   Cade  and  his  Com- 

pany ;  on    the   other.   Citizens,  and  the  King's 

Forces,    headed   by   Mattheif   Gough.       They 

fight ;  the  Citizens  are  routed,  and  Matthew 

Gough  "^  is  slain. 

Cade.  So,  sirs  : — ^Now  go  some  and  pull  down 
the  Savoy ^;  others  to  the  inns  of  court;  down 
with  them  all. 

Dick.  I  have  a  suit  unto  your  lordship. 

Cade.  Be  it  a  lordship  thou  shalt  have  it  for  that 
word. 

*  Dick.  Only,  that  the  laws  of  England  may 
*  come  out  of  your  mouth  ^. 

4  — Matthew  Gough — ]  "A  man  of  great  wit  and  much 
experience  in  feats  of  chivalrie,  the  which  in  continuall  warres 
had  sjDent  his  time  in  serving  of  the  king  and  his  father."  Holin- 
shed,  p.  635. 

In  W.  of  Worcestre,  p.  357,  is  the  following  notice  of  Mat- 
thew Gough  : 

"  Memorandum  quod  Ewenus  Gough,  pater  Matthei  Gough 
armigeri,  fuit  ballivus  manerii  de  Hangmer  juxta  Whyte-church 
in  North  Wales ;  et  mater  Matthei  Gough  vocatur  Hawys  ;  et 
pater  ejus,  id  est  avus  Matthei  Gough  ex  parte  matris,  vocatur 
Davy  Handmere  ;  et  mater  Matthei  Gough  fuit  nutrix  Johannis 
domini  Talbot,  comitis  de  Shrewysbery,  et  aliorum  fratrura  et 
sororum  suorum  : 

"  Morte  Matthei  Goghe  Cambria  clamitat  oghe  !  " 

See  also  the  Paston  Letters,  2d  edit.  vol.  i.  42.     Steevens. 

5  —  go  some  and  pull  down  the  Savoy  ;]  This  trouble  had 
been  saved  Cade's  reformers  by  his  predecessor  Wat  Tyler.  It 
was  never  re-edifyed,  till  Henry  VII.  founded  the  hospital. 

RiTSON. 

*  —  that  the  laws  of  England  may  come  out  of  your  mouth.] 


I~\ 


12  SECOND  PART  OF  ./67  vr. 


*  JoHx.  Mass,  'twill  be  sore  law  then " ;  for  he 

*  was  thrust  in  the  mouth  with  a  spear,  and  'tis  not 

*  whole  yet.  \_Asidc. 

*  Smith.  Nay,  John,  it  will  be  stinking  law ;  for 

*  his  breath  stinks  with  eating  toasted  cheese. 

[Aside. 

*  Cade.  I  have  thought  upon  it,  it  shall  be  so. 

*  Away,  burn  all  the  records  of  the  realm  " ;  my 

*  mouth  shall  be  the  parliament  of  England. 

*  John.  Then  we  are  like  to  have  biting  statutes, 

*  unless  his  teeth  be  pulled  out.  [Aside. 

*  Cade.  And  henceforward  all  things  shall  be  in 


*  common. 


Enter  a  Messenger 


*  Mess.  My  lord,  a  prize,  a  prize  !  here's  the  lord 
'  Say,  which  sold  the  towns  in  France ;  *  he  that 

*  made  us  pay  one  and   twenty  fifteens  ^,  and  one 

*  shiUing  to  the  pound,  the  last  subsidy. 

This  alludes  to  what  Holinshed  has  related  of  Wat  Tyler,  p.  432 : 
•'  It  \vas  reported,  indeed,  that  he  should  saie  with  great  pride, 
putting  his  hands  to  his  lips,  that  within  four  daies  all  the  laws  of 
England  sliaidd  come  foorth  nf  his  mmith."     Tyrwhitt. 

7  —  'twill  be  SORE  law  then  ;]  This  poor  jest  has  already  oc- 
curred in  The  Tempest,  scene  the  last : 

"  You'd  be  king  of  the  isle,  sivrah  ? — 

"  I  should  have  been  a  sore  one  then."     Steevens. 

^  — Away,  burn  all  the  records  of  the  realm;]  Little  more 
than  half  a  century  had  elapsed  from  the  time  of  writing  this  play, 
before  a  similar  proposal  was  actually  made  in  parliament. 
Bishop  Burnet  in  his  life  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  says:  "  Among 
the  other  extravagant  motions  made  in  this  parliament  (i.  e.  one 
of  Oliver  Cromwell's)  one  was  to  destroy  all  the  records  in  the 
Tower,  and  to  settle  the  nation  on  a  new  foundation  ;  so  he  (Sir 
M.  Hale)  took  this  province  to  himself,  to  show  the  madness  of 
this  proposition,  the  injustice  of  it,  and  the  mischiefs  that  would 
follow  on  it ;  and  did  it  with  such  clearness  and  strength  of  reason 
as  not  only  satisfied  all  sober  persons  (for  it  may  be  supposed  that 
was  soon  done)  but  stopt  even  the  mouths  of  the  frantic  people 
themselves."     Reed. 

9  — one  and  twenty  fifteens,]  "  This  capteine  (Cade) 
assured   them — if  cither  by  force  or  policic  they  might  get   the 


sc.  vii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  313 

Enter  George  Betis,  xvith  the  Lord  Say. 

'  C.JDE.  Well,  he   shall  be   beheaded  for  it  ten 
'  times. — Ah,    thou    say,  thou  serge ',    nay,    thou 

*  buckram  lord  !  now  art  thou  within  point-blank 

*  of  our  jurisdiction  regal.  What  canst  thou  answer 
'  to  my  majesty,  for  giving  up  of  Normandy  unto 
'  monsieur  Basimecu  '\  the  dauphin  of  France  ?  Be 
'  it  known  unto  thee  by  these  presence,    even  the 

*  presence  of  lord  Mortimer,  that  I  am  the  besom 
'  that  must  sweep  the  court  clean  of  such  filth  as 
'  thou  art.  Thou  hast  most  traitorously  corrupted 
'  the  youth  of  the  realm,  in  erecting  a  grammar- 
'  school :  and  whereas,  before,  our  fore-fathers  had 
'  no  other  books  but  the  score  and  the  tally,   thou 

king-  and  queene  into  their  hands,  he  would  cause  them  to  be 
honourably  used,  and  take  such  order  for  the  punishing  and  re- 
forming of  the  misdemeanours  of  their  bad  councellours,  that 
mii\\e\- fifteens  should  hereafter  be  demanded,  nor  anie  impositions 
or  taxes  be  spoken  of."  Holinshed,  vol.  ii.  p.  632.  A  JiJ'teen 
was  the  fifteenth  part  of  all  the  moveables  or  personal  property 
of  each  subject.     Malone. 

'  — thou  SAY,  thou  serge.]  Saij  wa.'n  the  old  word  for  silk; 
on  this  depends  the  series  of  degradation,  from  say  to  serge,  from 
se7-ge  to  buchraw .     Johnson. 

This  word  occurs  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  b.  i.  c.  iv.  : 
'*  All  in  a  kirtle  of  discolour'd  say 
"  He  clothed  was." 

Again,  in  his  Perigot  and  Cuddy's  Roundelay  : 
"  And  in  a  kirtle  of  green  say.'' 

It  appears,  however,  from  the  following  passage  in  The  Fairy 
Queen,  b.  iii.  c.  ii.  that  say  was  not  silk: 

"  His  garment  neither  was  of  silk  nor  say.''     Steevens. 

It  appears  from  Minsheu's  Diet.  1617,  that  say  was  a  kind  of 
serge.  It  is  made  entirely  of  wool.  There  is  a  considerable 
manufactory  of  say  at  Sudbury  near  Colchester.  This  stuff  is 
frequently  dyed  green,  and  is  yet  used  by  some  mechanicks  in 
aprons.     Malone. 

^  — monsieur  Basimecu,]  Shakspeare  probably  wrote  Sa/ser- 
mycu,  or,  by  a  designed  corruption,  Bascmycu,  in  imitation  of  his 
original,  where  also  we  find  a  word  half  French,  half  English, — 
"  Mounsier  bus  mine  cue."     Malone. 


314  SECOND  PART  OF  Jict  if. 

*  hast  caused  printing  to  be  used  ^ ;  and,  contrary 

*  to  the  king,  his  crown,  and  dignity  ^  thou  hast 
'  built  a  paper-mill.     It  will  be  proved  to  thy  face, 

*  that  thou  hast  men  about  thee,  that  usually  talk 

*  of  a  noun,   and    a   verb ;    and   such  abominable 

*  words,   as  no   Christian  ear  can  endure  to  hear. 

*  Thou  hast  appointed  justices  of  peace,  to  call  poor 

*  men   before  them   about  matters  they  were  not 

*  able  to  answer  \     Moreover,  thou  hast  put  them 

3  — printing  to  be  used  ;]  Shakspeare  is  a  little  too  early 
with  this  accusation.     Johnson. 

Shakspeare  might  have  been  led  into  this  mistake  by  Daniel,  in 
the  sixth  book  of  his  Civil  Wars,  who  mXvodwcQS,  printing  and  ar- 
tillery as  contemporary  inventions  : 

"  Let  there  be  found  two  fatal  instruments, 
•'  The  one  to  publish,  th'  other  to  defend 
"  Impious  contention,  and  proud  discontents ; 
"  Make  that  in-stamped  characters  may  send 
*'  Abroad  to  thousands  thousand  men's  intents ; 
"  And,  in  a  moment,  may  despatch  much  more 
"  Than  could  a  world  of  pens  perform  before." 
Shakspeare's  absurdities  may  always  be  countenanced  bv  those 
of  writers  nearly  his  contemporaries. 

In  the  tragedy  of  Herod  and  Antipater,  by  Gervase  Markhara 
and  William  Sampson,  who  were  both  scholars,  is  the  following 
passage : 

"  Though  cannons  roar^  yet  you  must  not  be  deaf." 
Spenser  mentions  cloth  made  at  Lincoln  during  the  ideal  reign 
of  K.  Arthur,  and  has  adorned  a  castle  at  the  same  period  "  with 
cloth  of  Arras  and  of  Toure."  Chaucer  introduces  guns  in  the 
time  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  and  (as  Mr.  Warton  has  observed,) 
Salvator  Rosa  places  a  cannon  at  the  entrance  of  the  tent  of  Holo- 
fernes.     Steevens. 

Mr.  Meerman,  in  his  Origines  Typographicse,  hath  availed 
himself  of  this  passage  in  Shaks|)eare,  to  support  his  hypothesis, 
that  printing  was  introduced  into  England  (before  the  time  of 
Caxton)  by  Frederic  Corsellis,  a  workman  from  Haerlem,  in  the 
time  of  Henry  VI.     Blackstone. 

•*  — contrary  to  the  king,  his  crown,  &c.]  "  Against  the 
peace  of  the  said  lord  the  now  king,  his  crown,  and  dignity,"  is 
the  regular  language  of  indictments.     Malone. 

5  — to  call  poor  men  before  them  about  matters  they  were  not 
able  to  answer.]  The  old  play  reads—"  to  hang  honest  men  that 
steal  for  their  living.^"     Malone. 


sc.  rii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  315 

'  in  prison  ;  and  because  they  could  not  read,  thou 

*  hast  hanged  them  ^  ;  when,   indeed,   only  for  that 
'  cause  they  have  been  most  worthy  to  live.     Thou 

*  dost  ride  on  a  foot-cloth  \  dost  thou  not  ? 

Say.  What  of  that  ? 

Cade.  Marry,  thou  oughtest  not  to  let  thy  horse 
wear  a  cloak  ^  when  honester  men  than  thou  go  in 
their  hose  and  doublets. 

*  Dick.  And  work  in  their  shirt  too ;  as  myself, 

*  for  example,  that  am  a  butcher. 
Say.  You  men  of  Kent, — 
Dick.  What  say  you  of  Kent  ? 

*  Say.  Nothing  but  this  :  'Tis  bona  terra,  mala 

gens^. 

^  — because  they  could  not  read,  ihou  hast  hanged  them  :] 
That  is,  they  were  hanged  because  they  could  not  claim  the  be- 
nefit of  clergy.     Johnson. 

7  Thou  dost  ride  on  a  foot-cloth,]  A  foot-cloth  was  ahorse 
with  housings  which  reached  as  low  as  his  feet.  So,  in  the  tra- 
gedy of  Muieasses  the  Turk,   1610  : 

"  I  have  seen,  since  my  coming  to  Florence,  the  son  of  a  pedlar 
mounted  on  a.  Jootcloth."     Steevens. 

A  foot-cloth  was  a  kind  of  housing,  which  covered  the  body  of 
the  horse,  and  almost  reached  the  ground.  It  was  sometimes 
made  of  velvet,  and  bordered  with  gold  lace. 

So,  in  A  Dialogue  both  pleasaunt  and  pitiful.  By  William 
BuUeyne,  156^  :  "  He  gave  me  my  mule  also  with  a  velvet  foot- 
cloth."     Malone. 

^  —  to  let  thy  horse  wear  a  cloak,]  This  is  a  reproach  truly 
characteristical.  Nothing  gives  so  much  offence  to  the  lower 
ranks  of  mankind,  as  the  sight  of  superfluities  merely  ostentatious. 

Johnson. 

9  — bo7ia  terra,  mala  gens.']  After  this  line  the  quarto  pro- 
ceeds thus  : 

"  Cade.  Bonum  terrum,  what's  that  ? 

"  Dick.  He  speaks  French. 

"  Will.  No,  'tis  Dutch. 

"  Nick.  No,  'tis  Outalian  :   I  know  it  well  enough." 

Holinshed  has  likewise  stigmatized  the  Kentish  men,  p.  677  : 
"The  Kentish-men,  in  this  season  (whose  minds  be  ever  move- 
able at  the  change  of  princes)  came,"  &c.     Steevens. 


316  SECOND  PART  OF  ^1CT  ir. 

*  Cade.  Away  with  him,   away  with   him  !    he 

*  speaks  Latin. 

*  Say.  Hear  me  but  speak,  and  bear  me  where 

you  will. 

*  Kent,  in  the  commentaries  Caesar  writ, 

'  Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  of  all  this  isle  ^  : 

*  Sweet  is  the  country,  because  full  of  riches  ; 

*  The  people,  liberal,  vahant,  active,  wealthy  ; 

*  Which  makes  me  hope  you  are  not  void  of  pity. 

*  I  sold  not  Maine,  I  lost  not  Normandy ; 

*  Yet,  to  recover  them '-,  would  lose  my  life. 

*  Justice  with  favour  have  I  always  done  ; 

*  Prayers  and  tears  have  movd  me,    gifts    could 

never. 

*  When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands, 

*  Kent  to   maintain,    the   king,    the    realm,    and 

you.? 

*  Large  gifts  have  I  bestow'd  on  learned  clerks, 

*  Because  my  book  preferrd  me  to  the  king  " : 


'  Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  of  all  this  isle  :]  So,  in  Caesar's 
Comment,  b.  v. :  "  Ex  his  omnibus  sunt  humanissimi  qui  Cantium 
incolunt."  The  passage  is  thus  translated  by  Arthur  Golding, 
1590  :  "  Of  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  isle,  the  civilest  are  the 
Kenthhfolke''     Steevens. 

So,  in  Lyly's  Euphues  and  his  England,  1580,  a  book  which 
the  author  of  The  Whole  Contention,  &c.  probably,  and  Shak- 
speare  certainly,  had  read  :  "  Of  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  isle  the 
Kentish-men  are  the  civilest."     Malone. 

^  When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands, 
Kent  to  maintain,  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you? 
Large  gifts  have  I  bestow'd  on  learned  clerks, 
Because  my  book  preferr'd  me  to  the  king :]     This  passage  I 
know  not  well  how  to  explain.     It  is  pointed  [in  the  old  copy] 
so  as  to  make  Say  declare  that  he  preferred  clerks  to  maintain 
Kent  and  the  King.     This  is  not   very  clear;  and,  besides,   he 
gives  in  the  following  line  another  reason  of  his  bounty,  that 
•learning  raised  him,  and  therefore  he  supported  learning.     I  am 
inclined  to  think  Kent  slipped  into  this   passage  by  chance,  and 
would  read : 


sc.  FIT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  317 

*  And — seeing  ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God, 

*  Knowledge  the  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to  heaven, — 

*  Unless  you  be  possess'd  with  devilish  spirits, 

*  You  cannot  but  forbear  to  murder  me. 

*  This  tongue  hath  parley'd  unto  foreign  kings 

*  For  your  behoof, — 

*  Cade.  Tut !  when  struck'st  thou  one  blow  in 

*  the  field  .^ 

*  Say.  Great  men  have  reaching  hands  :  oft  have 

I  struck 

*  Those  that  I  never  saw,  and  struck  them  dead. 

*  Geo.  O  monstrous  coward  !  what,  to  come  be- 

hind folks  .^ 

*  Say.  These  cheeks  are  pale  for  watching^  for 

your  good. 


"  When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands, 

"  But  to  maintain  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you  ?  " 

Johnson. 
I  concur  with  Dr.  Johnson  in  believing  the  word  Kent  to  have 
been  shuffled  into  the  text  by  accident.  Lord  Say,  as  the  passage 
stands  in  the  folio,  not  only  declares  he  had  preferred  men  of 
learning,  "  to  maintain  Kent,  the  King,  the  realm"  but  adds  tau- 
tologically  j/o«  ;  for  it  should  be  remembered  that  they  are  Kentish 
men  to  whom  he  is  now  speaking.  I  would  read.  Bent  to  main- 
tain, &c.  i.  e.  strenuously  resolved  to  the  utmost,  to,  &c. 

Steevens. 
The  punctuation  to  which  Dr.  Johnson  alludes,   is   that  of  the 
folio  : 

"  When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands  ? 
"  Kent  to  maintain,  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you, 
"  Large  gifts,  have  I  bestow'd  on  learned  clerks,"  &c. 
I  have  pointed  the  passage  differently,  the  former  punctuation 
appearing  to  me  to  render  it  nonsense.     I  suspect,  however,  with 
the  preceding  editors^,  that  the  word  Kent  is  a  corruption. 

Malone. 
3  — FOR  watching — ]     That  is,    inconsequence  of  watching. 
So,  in  Nosce  Teipsuni,  by  Sir  John  Davies,   1599  : 

"  And  shuns  it  still,  though  she^or  thirst  do  die." 
The   second    folio  and   all    the   modern   editions  read — uufh 
watching.     Malone. 


318  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv, 

*  Cade.  Give  him  a  box  o'  the  ear,  and  that  will 

*  make  'em  red  again. 

*  Say.    Long   sitting  to  determine  poor  men's 

causes 
Hath  made  me  full  of  sickness  and  diseases. 

*  Cade.  Ye  shall  have   a  hempen  caudle  then, 

*  and  the  help  of  a  hatchet  ^. 

'  Dick.  Why  dost  thou  quiver,  man  ^  ? 

*  Say.  The  palsy,  and  not  fear,  provoketh  me. 

*  Cade.  Nay,  he  nods  at  us ;  as  who  should  say, 
'  I'll  be  even  with  you.     I'll  see  if  his  head  will  stand 

*  steadier  on  a  pole,  or  no  :  Take  him  away,  and  be- 

*  head  him. 

*  Say.  Tell  me,  wherein  I  have  offended  most  ? 

5  — and  the  help  of  a  hatchet.]  I  suppose,  to  cut  him  down 
after  he  has  been  hanged,  or  perhaps  to  cut  off  his  head.  The 
article  (a  hatchet)  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

Malone. 

"  —  ihepcip  of  a  hatchet."  Old  copy — the/ie/j9of  a  hatchet. 
But  we  have  here,  as  Dr.  Farmer  observed  to  me,  a  strange  cor- 
ruption. The  help  of  a  hatchet  is  little  better  than  nonsense, 
and  it  is  almost  certain  our  author  originally  wrote  pap  ivith  a 
hatchet ;  alluding  to  Lyly's  pamphlet  with  the  same  title,  which 
made  its  appearance  about  the  time  when  this  play  is  supposed  to 
have  been  written.     Steevens. 

We  should  certainly  read — the  pap  of  a  hatchet ;  and  are 
much  indebted  to  Dr.  Farmer  for  so  just  and  happy  an  emendation. 
There  is  no  need,  however,  to  suppose  any  allusion  to  the  title 
of  a  pamphlet :  It  has  doubtless  been  a  cant  phrase.  So,  in 
Lyly's  Mother  Bombie  :  "  —  they  giue  us  pap  with  a  spoone 
before  we  can  speake,  and  when  wee  speake  for  that  we  loue, 
pap  tvith  a  hatchet."     Ritson. 

^  Why  dost  thou  quiver,  man  ?]  Otway  has  borrowed  this 
thought  in  Venice  Preserved  : 

"  Spinosa.  You  are  trembling,  sir. 
"  Renault.  'Tis  a  cold  night  indeed,  and  I  am  aged, 
"  Full  of  decay  and  natural  infirmities." 

Feck,  in  his  Memoirs  of  Milton,  p.  250,  gravely  assures  us 
that  Lord  Say's  account  of  himself  originates  from  the  following 
ancient  charm  for  an  ague :  "  —  Pilate  said  unto  Jesus,  why 
shakest  thou  ?  And  Jesus  answered,  the  ague  and  not  Jear  pro- 
voketh me."     Steevens. 


sc.  yii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  319 

*  Have  I  affected  wealth,  or  honour  ;  speak  ? 

*  Are  my  chests  fiU'd  up  with  extorted  gold  ? 

*  Is  my  apparel  sumptuous  to  behold  ? 

*  Whom  have  I  injur'd,  that  ye  seek  my  death  ? 

*  These  hands  are  free  from  guiltless  blood-shed- 

ding ', 

*  This    breast    from     harbouring     foul     deceitful 

thoughts. 

*  O,  let  me  live  ! 

*  Cade.  I  feel  remorse  in  myself  with  his  words: 

*  but  I'll  bridle  it ;  he  shall  die,  an  it  be  but  for 

*  pleading  so  well  for  his  life  ^.     Away  with  him  ! 

*  he  has  a  familiar  under  his  tongue  ^ ;  he  speaks 

*  not  o'  God's  name.     '  Go,  take  him  away,  I  say, 
'  and  strike  off  his  head  presently  ;  and  then  break 

*  into  his  son-in-law's  house,  sir  James  Cromer  ^, 

7  These  hands  are  free  from  guiltless  blood-shedding,]  I  for- 
merly imagined  that  the  word  guiltless  was  misplaced,  and  that 
the  poet  wrote — 

"  These  hands  are  guiltless,  free  from  blood-shedding." 

But  change  is  unnecessary.  Guiltless  is  not  an  epithet  to 
blood-shedding,  but  to  blood.  These  hands  are  free  from  shedding 
guiltless  or  innocent  blood.     So,  in  King  Henry  VIII,  : 

"  For  then  my  guiltless  blood  must  cry  against  them." 

Malone. 

^  — he  shall  die,  an  it  be  but  for  pleading  so  well  for  his  life.] 
This  sentiment  is  not  merely  designed  as  an  expression  of  fero- 
cious triumpli,  but  to  mark  the  eternal  enmity  which  the  vulgar 
bear  to  those  of  more  liberal  education  and  superior  rank.  The 
vulgar  are  always  ready  to  depreciate  the  talents  which  they 
behold  with  envy,  and  insult  the  eminence  which  they  despair  to 
reach.     Steevens. 

9  — a  FAMILIAR  under  his  tongue;]     K  familiar  is  a  daemon 
who  was  supposed  to  attend  at  call.     So,  in  Love's  Labour  s  Lost : 
"  Love  is  ?i  familiar  ;  there  is  no  angel  but  love." 

Steevens. 

'  — sir  James  Cromer,]  It  was  William  Crotvmer,  sheriff  of 
Kent,  whom  Cade  put  to  death.  Lord  Say  and  he  had  been 
previously  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  both,  or  at  least  the  former, 
convicted  of  treason,  at  Cade's  mock  commission  of  oyer  and 
terminer  at  Guildhall.     See  W.  Wyrcester,  p.  ^TO.     Ritson. 


320  SECOND  PART  OF  ^ct  ir. 

*  and  strike  off  his  head,  and  bring  them  both  upon 
'  two  poles  hither. 

'  All.   It  shall  be  done. 

*  Say.  Ah,  countrymen !  if  when  you  make  your 

prayers, 

*  God  should  be  so  obdurate  as  yourselves, 

*  How  would  it  fare  with  your  departed  souls  ? 

*  And  therefore  yet  relent,  and  save  my  life. 

*  C.4DE.  Away  with  him,  and  do  as  I  command 

ye.  \_ETeunt  some,  uitli  Lord  S.iy. 

'  The  proudest  peer  in  the  realm  shall  not  wear  a 

*  head  on  his  shoulders,  unless  he  pay  me  tribute  ; 

*  there  shall  not  a  maid  be  married,  but  she  shall 

*  pay  to  me  her  maidenhead  "  ere  they  have  it : 

*  Men  shall  hold  of  me  in  capite  '^ ;  and  we  charge 

*  and  command,  that  their  wives  be  as  free  as  heart 

*  can  wish,  or  tongue  can  tell  ^. 

*  —  shall  pay  to  me  her  maidenhead,  &c.]  AUudinc^  to  an 
ancient  usage  on  which  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  have  founded 
their  play  called  The  Custom  of  the  Countiy.  See  Mr.  Seward's 
note  at  the  beginning  of  it.  See  also  Cowell's  Law  Diet,  in  voce 
Marchet,  &c.  &c.  &c.     Steevens. 

Cowell's  account  of  this  custom  has  received  the  sanction  of 
several  eminent  antiquaries ;  but  a  learned  writer,  Sir  David 
Dalrvmple,  controverts  the  fact,  and  denies  the  actual  existence 
of  the  custom.  See  Annals  of  Scotland.  Judge  Blackstone,  in 
his  Commentaries,  is  of  opinion  it  never  prevailed  in  England, 
though  he  supposes  it  certainly  did  in  Scotland.     Reed. 

See  Blount's  Glossographia,  8vo.  1681,  in  v.  Marcheta. 
Hector  Boethius  and  Skene  both  mention  this  custom  as  existing 
in  Scotland  till  the  time  of  Malcolm  the  Third,  A.  D.  1057. 

Malone. 

3  —  in  capite  ;]  This  equivoque,  for  which  the  author  of  the 
old  play  is  answerable,  is  too  learned  for  Cade.     Malone. 

4  — or  tongue  can  tell.]  After  this,  in  the  old  play,  Robin 
enters  to  inform  Cade  that  London  bridge  is  on  fire,  and  Dick 
enters  with  a  serjeant ;  i.  e.  a  bailiff;  and  there  is  a  dialogue  con- 
sisting of  seventeen  lines^  of  which  Shakspeare  has  made  no  use 
whatsoever.     Malone. 

"  Cade.  That  their  wives  be  as  free  as   heart  can  wish,  or 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  321 

*  Dick.  My  lord,  when  shall  we  go  to  Cheapside, 
*  and  take  up  commodities  upon  our  bills  ^  ? 

'  Cade.  Marry,  presently. 

*  All.  O  brave  ! 

Re-enter  Rebels,  with  the  Heads  of  lord  Say  and 

his  Son-in-law . 

*  Cade.  But  is  not  this  braver  ? — Let  them  kiss 


tongue  can  tell."  There  are  several  ancient  grants  from  our 
early  kings  to  their  subjects,  written  in  rude  verse,  and  empov^ering 
them  to  enjov  their  lands  as  "  free  as  heart  can  wish  or  tongue 
can  tell."  See  Blount's  Jocular  Tenures.  It  is  difficult  to  know 
what  to  think  of  these  rhyming  grants  ;  the  external  evidence  of 
their  authenticity  is,  in  some  cases,  strong :  the  internal,  very 
weak.  They  have,  however,  been  sometimes  admitted  in  our 
courts  of  justice.  "  En  ascu  case  son  graunt  est,  'As  free  as 
tongue  can  speak,  or  heart  can  think : ' " — which  are  almost  Cade's 
words,  occurs  in  the  Yearbook  of  10  Hen.  VII.  fol.  14,  a.  pi.  6. 

As  to  the  Marcheta  Mulierum  referred  to  just  before,  Mr. 
Whitaker  has  also  controverted  its  existence,  and  given  a  very 
ingenious  and  probable  etymology  of  it,  in  his  history  of  Man- 
chester, book  i.  ch.  viii.  p.' 359,  octavo  edit,     Blakew^ay. 

5  — take  up  commodities  upon  our  bills?]  Perhaps  this  is  an 
equivoque  alluding  to  the  brown  bills,  or  halberds,  with  which 
the  commons  were  anciently  armed.     Percy. 

Thus,  in  the  original  play,  but  in  a  former  part  of  this  scene  : 

"  Nick.  But  when  shall  we  take  up  those  commodities  which 
you  told  us  of? 

"  Cade.  Marry,  he  that  will  lustily  stand  to  it,  shall  take  up 
these  commodities  following.  Item,  a  gown,  a  kirtle,  a  petti- 
coat, and  a  smocke." 

If  The  Whole  Contention,  &c.  printed  in  1600,  was  an  imper- 
fect transcript  of  Shakspeare's  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  (as  it  has  hitherto  been  supposed  to  be,)  we  have  here 
another  extraordinary  proof  of  the  inventive  faculty  of  the  tran- 
scriber.— It  is  observable  that  the  equivoque  which  Dr.  Percy  has 
taken  notice  of,  is  not  found  in  the  old  play,  but  is  found  in 
Shakspeare's  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  : 

"  Ber.  We  are  likely  to  prove  a  good  commodity,  being  taken 
up  of  these  men's  bills. 

"  Con.  A  commodity  in  question,  I  warrant  you." 

See  vol.  vii.  p.  94,  n.  6.     Malone. 
VOL.  XVIII.  Y 


322  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

*  one  another  ^,  for  they  loved  well  \  when  they  were 

*  alive.     Now  part  them  again,  lest  they  consult 

*  about  the  giving  up  of  some  more  towns  in  France. 

*  Soldiers,   defer  the  spoil  of  the  city  until  night : 

*  for  with  these  borne  before  us,  instead  of  maces, 

*  will  we  ride   through  the  streets  ;  and  at  every 

*  corner,  have  them  kiss. — Away!  \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  VIII. 
Southwark. 

Alarum,     Enter  Cade^  and  all  his  Rahblement. 

*  Cade.  Up  Fish-street !   down  Saint  Magnus' 

*  corner !  kill  and  knock  down  !    throw  them  into 

*  Thames ! —  \_A  Parley  sounded,  then  a  Retreat.^ 

*  What  noise  is  this  I  hear  ?     Dare  any  be  so  bold 

*  to  sound  retreat  or  parley,  when  1  command  them 

*  kill  ? 

Enter  Buckingham,  and  Old  Clifford,  with  Forces. 

*  Buck.  Ay,  here  they  be  that  dare  and  will  dis- 

turb thee  ; 


^  Let  them  kiss  one  another,]     This  is  from  The  Mirrour  for 
Magistrates,  in  the  legend  of  Jack  Cade : 

"  With  these  two  heads  I  made  a  pretty  play, 

"  For  pighton  poles  I  bore  them  through  the  strete, 

"  And  for  my  sport  made  each  kisse  other  swete." 

Farmer. 
It  is  likewise  found  in  Holinshed,  p.  634^ :   "  and  as  it  were  in 
a  spite  caused  them  in  every  street  to  kisse  together."  Steevens, 
So  also  in  Hall,   Henry  VI.  folio  78.     Malone. 
7  —  for  they  loved  well,]     Perhaps  this  passage  suggested  to 
Rowe  the  following  remark  in  his  Ambitious  Stepmother: 
"  Sure  they  lov'd  ivell ;  the  very  streams  of  blood 
"  That  flow  from  their  pale  bosoms,  meet  and  mingle." 

Steevens. 


sc.  nil.  KING  HENRY  VI.  323 

*  Know,  Cade,  we  come  ambassadors  from  the  king 

*  Unto  the  commons  whom  thou  hast  misled  ; 

*  And  here  pronounce  free  pardon  to  them  all, 

'  That  will  forsake  thee,  and  go  home  in  peace. 
'  Clif.  What  say  ye,  countrymen  ^  ?  will  ye  re- 
lent, 

*  And  yield  to  mercy,  whilst  'tis  offer'd  you  ; 

*  Or  let  a  rabble  lead  you  to  your  deaths  ? 

*  Who  loves  the  king,  and  will  embrace  his  pardon, 

*  Fling  up  his  cap,  and  say — God  save  his  majesty ! 
'  Who  hateth  him,  and  honours  not  his  father, 

*  Henry  the  fifth,  that  made  all  France  to  quake, 
'  Shake  he  his  weapon  at  us,  and  pass  by. 

*  All.  God  save  the  king  !    God  save  the  king  ! 

*  Cade.  What,  Buckingham,  and  Clifford,  are  ye 

*  so  brave  ? — And  you,  base  peasants,  do  ye  believe 

*  him  ?  will  you  needs  be  hanged  with  your  par- 

*  dons  about  your  necks  ?  Hath  my  sword  therefore 

*  broke  through  London  Gates,  that  you  should  leave 

*  me  at  the  White  Hart  in  Southwark  ?  I  thought, 

*  ye  would  never  have  given  out  these  arms,  till  you 

*  had  recovered  your  ancient  freedom  :  but  you  are 

*  all  recreants,  and  dastards ;  and  delight  to  live  in 

8  Clif.  What  say  ye,  countrymen  ?  &c.]  The  variation  in  the 
original  play  is  worth  noting : 

"  Why  countrymen,  and  warlike  friends  of  Kent, 

"  What  means  this  mutinous  rebellion, 

'*  That  you  in  troops  do  muster  thus  yourselves, 

"  Under  the  conduct  of  this  traitor.   Cade  ? 

"  To  rise  against  your  sovereign  lord  and  king, 

"  Who  mildly  hath  this  pardon  sent  to  you, 

"  If  you  forsake  this  monstrous  rebel  here. 

•'  If  honour  be  the  mark  whereat  you  aim, 

"  Then  haste  to  France,  that  our  forefathers  won, 

"  And  win  again  that  thing  which  now  is  lost, 

"  And  leave  to  seek  your  country's  overthrow. 

"  All.  A  Clifford,  a  Clifford.  \_Theijforsahe  Cade:' 

Here  we  have  precisely  the  same  versification  which  we  find  in 
all  the  tragedies  and  historical  dramas  that  were  written  before 
the  time  of  Shakspeare.     Malone. 

Y    2 


324  SECOND  PART  OF  actiV. 

*  slavery  to  the  nobility.  Let  them  break  your  backs 
'  with  burdens,  take  your  houses  over  your  heads, 

*  ravish  your  wives  and  daughters  before  your  faces  : 

*  For  me,— I  will  make  shift  for  one  ;  and  so— God's 
'  curse  'light  upon  you  all ! 

'  .4ll.  We'll  follow  Cade,  we'll  follow  Cade. 
*  Clif.  Is  Cade  the  son  of  Henry  the  fifth, 

*  That  thus  you  do  exclaim — you'll  go  with  him  ? 

*  Will  he  conduct  you  through  the  heart  of  France, 

*  And  make  the  meanest  of  you  earls  and  dukes  ? 

*  Alas,  he  hath  no  home,  no  place  to  fly  to  ; 

*  Nor  knows  he  how  to  live,  but  by  the  spoil, 

*  Unless  by  robbing  of  your  friends,  and  us. 

*  Wer't  not  a  shame,  that  whilst  you  live  at  jar, 

*  The  fearful  French,  whom  you  late  vanquished, 

*  Should  make  a  start  o'er  seas,  and  vanquish  you  ? 
'  Methinks,  already,  in  this  civil  broil, 

*  I  see  them  lording  it  in  London  streets, 

*  Crying— Filiageois"!  unto  all  they  meet. 

*  Better,  ten  thousand  base-born  Cades  miscarry, 

*  Than  you  should  stoop  unto  a  Frenchman's  mercy. 

*  To  France,  to  France,  and  get  what  you  have 

lost  ; 

*  Spare  England,  for  it  is  your  native  coast : 

*  Henry  hath  money  ',  you  are  strong  and  manly ; 

*  God  on  our  side,  doubt  not  of  victory. 

'  All.  a  Clifford !    a   Clifford  !  we'll  follow  the 

*  king,  and  Clifford. 

*  C./DE.  Was  ever  feather  so  lightly  blown  to  and 

9  —  Villageois  !^  Old  copy — Villiago.  Corrected  by  Mr. 
Theobald.     Malone. 

'  Henry  hath  money,]  Dr.  Warburton  reads—"  Henry  hath 
mercy  ;  "  but  he  does  not  seem  to  have  attended  to  the  speaker's 
drift,  which  is  to  lure  them  from  their  present  design  by  the  hope 
of  French  plunder.  He  bids  them  spare  England,  and  go  to 
France,  and  encourages  them  by  telling  them  that  all  is  ready  for 
their  eipedition ;  that  they  have  strength,  and  the  king  has 
money.     Johnson. 


sc.  IX.  KING  HENRY  VI.  325 

'  fro,  as  this  multitude  ?    the  name  of  Henry  the 

*  fifth  hales  them  to  an  hundred   mischiefs,    and 

*  makes  them  leave  me  desolate.     I  see  them  lay 

*  their  heads  together,  to  surprize  me  :  my  sword 

*  make  way  for  me '",  for  here  is  no  staying. — In  de- 

*  spight  of  the  devils  and  hell,  have   through  the 

*  very  midst  of  you !  and  heavens  and  honour  be 

*  witness,  that  no  want  of  resolution  in  me,  but  only 

*  my   followers'  base    and    ignominious    treasons, 

*  makes  me  betake  me  to  my  heels.  \_E.vit. 

'  Buck.  What,  is  he  fled  ?  go  some,  and  follow 
him  ; 

*  And  he,  that  brings  his  head  unto  the  king, 

'  Shall  have  a  thousand  crowns  for  his  reward. — 

[^E.veunt  some  of  them. 

*  Follow  me,  soldiers ;  we'll  devise  a  mean 

*  To  reconcile  you  all  unto  the  king.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  IX. 

Kenelworth  Castle. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Queen  Margaret,  and  Somer- 
set, on  the  Terrace  of  the  Castle. 

*  K.  Hen.  Was  ever  king  that  joy'd  an  earthly 
throne, 

*  And  could  command  no  more  content  than  I  ? 

*  No  sooner  was  I  crept  out  of  my  cradle, 
'^  But  I  was  made  a  king,  at  nine  months  old  '^ : 


* 


2  — my  sword  make  way  for  me,]  In  the  original  play  Cade 
employs  a  more  vulgar  weapon  :  "  My  staff  shall  make  way 
through  the  midst  of  you,  and  so  a  pox  take  you  all !  "  Malone. 

3  _L  I  was  made  a  king,  at  nine  months  old  :]  So  all  the  his- 
torians agree.  And  yet  in  Part  I.  Act  III.  Sc.  IV.  King  Henry  is 
made  to  say — 

"'  I  do  remember  how  my  father  said — " 


326  SECOND  PART  OF  act  if. 

*  Was  never  subject  long'd  to  be  a  king, 

*  As  I  do  long  and  wish  to  be  a  subject  ^. 

Enter  Buckingham  and  Clifford. 

*■  Buck.  Health,  and  glad  tidings,  to  your  ma- 
jesty ! 

*  K.  Hex.  Why,  Buckingham,  is  the  traitor,  Cade, 
surpriz'd  ? 

*  Or  is  he  but  retir'd  to  make  him  strong  ? 

Enter,  belozv,  a  great  number  of  Cades  FollowerSy 
with  Halters  about  their  Necks. 

'  Clif.  He's  fled,  my  lord,  and  all  his  powers  do 
yield ; 

*  And  humbly  thus,  with  halters  on  their  necks, 

*  Expect  your  highness'  doom,  of  life,  or  death. 

'  K.  Hen.  Then,  heaven  ^,  set  ope  thy  everlasting 
gates, 

a  plain  proof  that  the  whole  of  that  play  was  not  written  by  the 
same  hand  as  this.     Blackstone. 

4  — to  be  a  subject.]  In  the  original  play,  before  the  entry  of 
Buckingham  and  Clifford,  we  have  the  following  short  dialogue, 
of  which  Shakspeare  has  here  made  no  use  : 

"  King.  Lord  Somerset,  what   news  hear  you  of  the  rebel 
Cade? 

"  Som.  This,  my  gracious  lord,  that  the  lord  Say  is  done  to 
"  death,  and  the  city  is  almost  sack'd. 

"  King.  God's  will  be  done  ;  for  as  he  hath  decreed, 
"  So  it  must  be  ;  and  be  it  as  he  please, 
■'  To  stop  the  pride  of  these  rebellious  men. 

"  Queen.  Had  the  noble  duke  of  Suffolk  been  alive, 
"  The  rebel  Cade  had  been  suppress'd  ere  this, 
"  And  all  the  rest  that  do  take  part  with  him," 

This  sentiment  he  has  attributed  to  the  Queen  in  Sc.  IV. 

Malonk. 

5  Then,  heaven,  &c.]     Thus,  in  the  original  play  : 

"  King.  Stand  up  you  simple  men,  and  give  God  praise, 
*'  For  you  did  take  in  hand  you  know  not  what ; 
'*  And  go  in  peace,  obedient  to  your  king, 
"  And  live  as  subjects  ;  and  you  shall  not  want, 
"  VA^hilst  Henry  lives,  and  wears  the  English  crown. 

"  All.  God  save  the  king,  God  save  the  king."    Malone. 


sc.  IX.  KING  HENRY  VL-  .  327 

*  To  entertain  my  vows  of  thanks  and  praise ! — 

*  Soldiers,  this  day  have  you  redeemed  your  lives, 

*  And  show'd  how  well  you  love  your  prince  and 

country : 
'  Continue  still  in  this  so  good  a  mind, 

*  And  Henry,  though  he  be  infortunate, 

*  Assure  yourselves,  will  never  be  unkind  : 

*  And  so,  with  thanks,  and  pardon  to  you  all, 

*  I  do  dismiss  you  to  your  several  countries. 

y^LL.  God  save  the  king !  God  save  the  king  ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  Mess.  Please  it  your  grace  to  be  advertised, 

*  The  duke  of  York  is  newly  come  from  Ireland  : 
^  And  with  a  puissant  and  a  mighty  power, 

*  Of  Gallowglasses,  and  stout  Kernes  ^, 

*  Is  marching  hitherward  in  proud  array ; 

*  And  still  proclaimeth,  as  he  comes  along, 

*  His  arms  are  only  to  remove  from  thee 

'  The  duke  of  Somerset,  whom  he  terms  a  traitor. 

*  K.  Hen.  Thus  stands  my  state,  'twixt  Cade  and 

York  distress'd ; 

*  Like  to  a  ship,  that,  having  scap'd  a  tempest, 

*  Is  straightway  calm,  and  boarded  with  a  pirate  ^ : 

^  Of  Gallowglasses,  and  stout  Kernes,]  These  were  two 
orders  of  foot-soldiers  among  the  Irish.  See  Dr,  Warburton's 
note  on  the  second  scene  of  the  first  Act  of  Macbeth,  vol.  xi. 
p.  16,  n.3.     Steevens. 

"  The  galloglasse  useth  a  kind  of  poUax  for  his  weapon.  These 
men  are  grim  of  countenance,  tall  of  stature,  big  of  limme, 
lusty  of  body,  wel  and  strongly  timbered.  The  kerne  is  an  ordi- 
nary souldier,  using  for  weapon  his  sword  and  target,  and  some- 
times his  peece,  being  commonly  good  mark  men.  Kerne 
[Kigheyren]  signifieth  a  shower  of  hell,  because  they  are  taken 
for  no  better  than  for  rake-hells,  or  the  devils  blacke  garde." 
titanihurst' s  Description  of  Ireland,  ch.  viii.  f.  21.     Bowle. 

7  Is  straightway  calm,  and  boarded  with  a  pirate  :]  Thus  the 
folio.  The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  who  appears  to  have  been 
wholly  unacquainted  with  Shakspeare's  phraseology,  changed  calm 
to  claim'd.     The  editor  of  the   tliird  folio   changed  clainid  to 


328  SECOND  PAKT  OF  act  ir. 

*  But  now  ^.is  Cade  driven  back,  his  men  dispers'd; 

*  And  now  is  York  in  arms  to  second  him. — 

*  I  pray  thee,  Buckingham,  go  forth  and  meet  him  ; 

*  And  ask  him,  what's  the  reason  of  these  arms. 

*  Tell  him,  I'll  send  duke  Edmund  to  the  Tower  ; — 

calm'd ;  and  the  latter  word  has  been  adopted,  unnecessarily  in 
my  apprehension,  by  the  modern  editors.  Many  words  were  used 
in  this  manner  in  our  author's  time,  and  the  import  is  ])recisely 
the  same  as  if  he  had  written  cahi'd.  So,  in  King  Henry  IV. : 
"  —  what  a  candy  deal  of  courtesy,"  which  Mr.  Pope  altered  im- 
properly to — "  what  a  deal  of  candy  d  courtesy."  See  vol.  xi. 
p.  226,  n.  1,  and  p.  227,  n.  2. 

By  "  my  state  "  Henr\%  I  think,  means,  '  his  realm  ;'  which  had 
recently  become  quiet  and  peaceful  bv  the  defeat  of  Cade  and  his 
rabble.  "  With  a  pirate,"  agreeably  to  the  phraseolog)"  of  Shak- 
speare's  time,  means  "  fjy  a  pirate."     Malone. 

The  editions  read — claim'd;  and  one  would  think  it  plain 
enough  ;  alluding  to  York's  claim  to  the  crown.  Cade's  head-long 
tumult  was  well  compared  to  a  tempest,  as  York's  premeditated  re- 
bellion to  a.  piracy.  But  see  what  it  is  to  be  critical  :  Mr,  Theo- 
bald says,  claimed  should  be  calm'd,  because  a  calm  frequently 
succeeds  a  tempest.  It  may  be  so ;  but  not  here,  if  the  King's 
word  may  be  taken  ;  who  expressly  says,  that  no  sooner  was  Cade 
driven  back,  but  York  appeared  in  arms  : 

"  But  now  is  Cade  driv'n  back,  his  men  dispers'd  ; 
"  And  now  is  York  in  arms  to  second  him." 

W'arburton. 

Dr.  Warburton  begins  his  note  by  roundly  asserting  that  the 
editions  read  claim'd.  The  passage,  indeed,  is  not  found  in  the 
quarto  ;  but  the  folio,  1623,  reads  calme,  Claim'd,  the  reading  of 
the  second  folio,  was  not.  perhaps,  intentional,  but  merely  a  mis- 
print for — calm'd.  Theobald  says,  that  the  third  folio  had  antici- 
pated his  correction.     I  believe  calm'd  is  right. 

So,  in  Othello  : 

"  " must  be  be-lee'd  and  calm'd — ." 

The  commotion  raised  by  Cade  was  over,  and  the  mind  of  the 
King  was  subsiding  into  a  cahn,  when  York  appeared  in  arms,  to 
raise  fresh  disturbances,  and  deprive  it  of  its  momentary  peace. 

Steevens. 

^  But  now — ]  But  is  here  not  adversative. — It  was  on\y  just 
noiv,  says  Henry,  that  Cade  and  his  followers  were  routed. 

Malone. 

So,  in  King  Richard  II.  : 

"  But  noiv  the  blood  of  twenty  thousand  men 
"  Did  triumph  in  my  face."     Steevens. 


sc.  X.  KING  HENRY  VI.  329 

*  And,  Somerset,  we  will  commit  thee  thither, 

*  Until  his  army  be  dismiss'd  from  him. 

*  SoM,  My  lord, 

*  I'll  yield  myself  to  prison  willingly, 

*  Or  unto  death,  to  do  my  country  good. 

*  K.  Hen.    In  any  case,  be  not  too  rough   in 

terms ; 

*  For  he  is  fierce,  and  cannot  brook  hard  language. 

*  Buck.  I  will,  my  lord  ;  and  doubt  not  so  to 

deal, 

*  As  all  things  shall  redound  unto  your  good. 

*  K.  Hen.    Come,  wife,  let's  in  ^,  and   learn  to 

govern  better ; 

*  For  yet  may  England  curse  my  wretched  reign. 

\_E.reunt. 

SCENE   X. 
Kent.     Iden's  Garden  ^ 

E titer  Cade. 

*  Cjde.  Fye  on  ambition !  fye  on  myself ;  that 

*  have  a  sword,  and  yet  am  ready  to  famish !  These 

9  Come,  wife,  let's  in,  &c.]     In  the  old  play  the  King  concludes 
the  scene  thus  : 

"  Come,  let  us  haste  to  London  now  with  speed, 
"  That  solemn  processions  may  be  sung, 
"  In  laud  and  honour  of  the  God  of  heaven, 
•'  And  triumphs  of  this  happy  victory."     Malone. 
'  Kent.    Iden's  Garden.]   Holinshed,  p.  635,  says  ;  "  —  a  gen- 
tleman of  Kent,  named  Alexander  Eden,  awaited  so  his  time,  that 
he  tooke  the  said  Cade  in  a  garden  in  Sussex,  so  that  there  he  was 
slaine  at  Hothfield,"  &c. 

Instead  of  the  soliloquy  with  which  the  present  scene  begins, 
the  quarto  has  only  this  stage  direction.  "  Enter  Jacke  Cade  at 
one  doore,  and  at'  the  other  M.  Alexander  Eyden  and  his  men; 
and  Jack  Cade  lies  down  picking  of  hearbes,  and  eating  them." 

Steevens. 
This  Iden  was,  in  fact,  the  new  sheriff  of  Kent,  who  had  followed 
Cade  from  Rochester.     W.  Wyrcester,  p.  472.     Ritson. 


330  SECOND  PART  OF  act  iv. 

*  five  days  have  I  hid  me  in  these  woods ;  and  durst 

*  not  peep  out,  for  all  the  country  is  laid  for  me ; 

*  but  now  am  I  so  hungry,  that  if  I  might  have  a 

*  lease  of  my  life  for  a  thousand  years,  I  could  stay 

*  no  longer.     Wherefore,   on  a  brick-wall  have  I 

*  climbed  into  this   garden ;    to  see  if  1  can  eat 

*  grass,  or  pick  a  sallet  another  while,  which  is  not 

*  amiss  to  cool  a  man's  stomach  this  hot  weather. 

*  And,  I  think,  this  word  sallet  was  born  to  do  me 

*  good  :  for,  many  a  time,  but  for  a  sallet,  my  brain- 
pan "  had  been  cleft  with  a  brown  bill ;  and,  many 


* 


-  —  but  for  a  sallet,  my  brain-pan,  &c.]     A  sallet  by  cor- 
ruption from  ccclata,  a  helmet,  (says  Skinner,)  quia  galece  ccdatcB 
Jueriint.     Pope. 

I  do  not  see  by  what  rules  of  etymology,  sallet  can  be  formed 
from  ccclata.  Is  it  not  rather  a  corruption  from  the  French  salut, 
taken,  I  suppose,  from  the  scriptural  phrase,  the  helmet  of  salva- 
tion f  Brain-pan,  for  sladl,  occurs,  I  think,  in  Wicliff's  transla- 
tion of  Judges  xix.  53.     Whalley. 

In  the  ancient  MS.  romance  of  The  Sowdon  of  Babyloyne,  p.  39, 
we  have  a  similar  phrase  : 

"  Such  a  stroke,  she  him  there  raught, 

"  The  brayne  sterte  oute  of  his  hede  pan."     Steevens. 

So,  in  Caxton's  Chronicle  : 

"  Anone  he  [Cade]  toke  sir  Umfreyes  snlade  and  his  briganteins 
smyten  fulle  of  gilte  nailles,  and  also  his  gilt  spores,  and  arraied 
him  like  a  lord  and  a  capitayne."     Ritson. 

Again,  in  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation  of  Plutarch  :  "  —  One 
of  the  company  seeing  Brutus  athirst  also,  he  ran  to  the  river  for 
water,  and  brought  it  in  his  sallet." 

Again,  ibid. :  "  Some  were  driven  to  fill  their  sallets  and  mur- 
rains with  water." 

Again,  in  The  longer  thou  Livest,  the  more  Fool  thou  Art,  1570  : 
"  This  will  beare  away  a  good  rappe, 
"  As  good  as  a  sallet  to  me  verilie."     Steevens. 

Salade  has  the  same  meaning  in  French,  as  appears  from  aline 
in  La  Pucelle  d'  Orleans  : 

Devers  la  place  arrive  un  Ecuyer 

Fortant  salade,  avec  lance  doree.     M.  Mason. 

Minsheu  conjectures  that  it  is  derived  "  a  saint,  Gal.  because 
it  keepeth  the  head  whole  from  breaking."  He  adds,  "  alias 
salade  dicitur,  a  G.  salade,  idem ;  utrumque  vero  celando,  quod 
caput  tegit." 


sc.  X.  KING  HENRY  VI.  331 

*  a  time,  when  I  have  been  dry,  and  bravely  march - 

*  ing,  it  hath  served  me  instead  of  a  quart-pot  to 

*  drink  in  ;  and  now  the  word  sallet  must  serve  me 

*  to  feed  on. 

Enter  Iden^  zvith  Servants. 

*  Iden.  Lord,  who  would  live  turmoiled  in  the 

court, 

*  And  may  enjoy  such  quiet  walks  as  these  ? 

*  This  small  inheritance,  my  father  left  me, 
'  Contenteth  me,  and  is  worth  a  monarchy. 

*  I  seek  not  to  wax  great  by  others'  waning  ^ ; 

*  Or  gather  wealth,  I  care  not  with  what  envy*; 
'  Sufficeth  that  I  have  maintains  my  state, 

'  And  sends  the  poor  well  pleased  from  my  gate. 

*  Cade.  Here's  the  lord  of  the  soil  come  to  seize 

*  me  for  a  stray,  for  entering  his  fee-simple  without 

*  leave.     Ah,  villain,  thou  wilt  betray  me,  and  get 

*  a  thousand  crowns  of  the  king  for  carrying  my 

*  head  to  him ;  but  I'll  make  thee  eat  iron  like  an 

The  word  undoubtedly  came  to  us  from  the  French.  In  the 
Stat.  4<  5  Ph.  and  Mary,  ch.  2,  we  find — "  twenty  haquebuts,  and 
twentie  morians  or  salets."     M alone. 

3  —  by  others'  waning  ;]  The  folio  reads — warning.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Pope.  Is  in  the  preceding  line  was  supplied  by 
Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

4  Or  gather  wealth,  I  care  not  with  what  envy  ;]  Or  accumu- 
late riches,  without  regarding  the  odium  I  may  incur  in  the  acqui- 
sition, however  great  that  odium  may  be.  Envi/  is  often  used  in 
this  sense  by  oiir  author  and  his  contemporaries.  It  may,  how- 
ever, have  here  its  more  ordinary  acceptation. 

This  speech  in  the  old  play  stands  thus  : 

"  Good  lord,  how  pleasant  is  this  country  life  ! 
"  This  little  land  my  father  left  me  here, 
"  With  my  contented  mind,  serves  me  as  well, 
"  As  all  the  pleasures  in  the  court  can  yield, 
"  Nor  would  I  change  this  pleasure  for  the  court." 
Here  surely  we  have  not  a  hasty  transcript  of  our  author's  lines, 
but  the  distinct  composition  of  a  preceding  writer.     The  versifica- 
tion must  at  once  strike  the  ear  of  every  person  who  has  perused 
any  of  our  old  dramas.     Malone. 

6 


332  SECOND  PART  OF  .4ct  if. 

*  ostrich,  and  swallow  my  sword  like  a  great  pin,  ere 

*  thou  and  I  part. 

*  Iden.  Why,  rude  companion,  whatsoe'er  thou 
be, 

*  I  know  thee  not ;  Why  then  should  I  betray  thee  ? 

*  Is't  not  enough,  to  break  into  my  garden, 

*  And,  like  a  thief  to  come  to  rob  my  grounds, 

*  CUmbing  my  walls  in  spite  of  me  the  owner, 

*  But  thou  wilt  brave  me  with  these  saucy  terms  ? 

Cade.  Brave  thee?  ay,  by  the  best  blood  that 
ever  was  broached,  and  beard  thee  too  ^.  Look  on 
me  well :  I  have  eat  no  meat  these  five  days  ;  yet, 
come  thou  and  thy  five  men,  and  if  I  do  not  leave 
you  all  as  dead  as  a  door  nail  ^,  I  pray  God  I  may 
never  eat  grass  more. 

'  Iden.  Nay,  it  shall  ne'er  be  said,  while  England 
stands. 
That  Alexander  Iden,  an  esquire  of  Kent, 
Took  odds  to  combat  a  poor  famish'd  man. 

*  Oppose  thy  stedfast-gazing  eyes  to  mine  \ 

*  See  if  thou  canst  outface  me  with  thy  looks. 

*  Set  limb  to  limb,  and  thou  art  far  the  lesser ; 

*  Thy  hand  is  but  a  finger  to  my  fist ; 

'  Thy  leg  a  stick,  compared  with  this  truncheon  ; 

*  My  foot  shall  fight  with  all  the  strength  thou  hast; 

*  And  if  mine  arm  be  heaved  in  the  air, 

*  Thy  grave  is  digg'd  already  in  the  earth. 

*  As  for  words,  whose  greatness  answers  words, 

5  —  and  BEARD  thee  too.]     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  352,  n.  7. 

Steevens. 
^  —  as  dead  as  a  door-nail.]    See  vol.  xvii.  p.  225,  n.  7. 

Steevens. 
7  Oppose  thy  stedfast-gazing  eyes  to  mine,  &c.]     This  and  the 
following  nine  lines  are  an  amplification  by  Shakspeare  on  these 
three  of  the  old  play  : 

"  Look  on  me,  my  limbs  are  equal  unto  thine, 
•'  And  every  way  as  big  :  then  hand  to  hand 
"  I'll  combat  with  thee.     Sirra,  fetch  me  weapons, 
"  And  stand  vou  uU  aside."     Malone. 


sc.  X.  KING  HENRY  VI.  333 

*  Let  this  my  sword  report  what  speech  forbears^. 

*  C.iDE.  By  my  valour,  the  most  complete  cham- 

*  pion  that  ever  I  heard. — *  Steel,  if  thou  turn  the 

*  edge,  or  cut  not  out  the  burly-boned  clown  in 

*  chines  of  beef  ere  thou  sleep  in  thy  sheath,  I  be- 

*  seech  God  ^  on  my  knees,  thou  mayest  be  turned 

^  As  for  words,  whose  greatness  answers  words, 
Let  this  my  sword  report  what  speech  forbears.]     Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  and  after  him.  Dr.  Warburton,  read  : 
"  As  for  more  words,  let  this  my  sword  report 
*'  (Whose  greatness  answers  words)  what  speech  forbears." 

It  seems  to  be  a  poor  praise  of  a  sword,  that  its  greatness  nn- 
sxvers  words,  whatever  be  the  meaning  of  the  expression.  The 
old  reading,  though  somewhat  obscure,  seems  to  me  more  capa- 
ble of  explanation.  "  For  more  words,"  whose  pomp  and  rumour 
may  answer  words,  and  only  words,  I  shall  forbear  them,  and 
refer  the  rest  to  my  svcord.     Johnson. 

So,  in  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. : 

"  I  will  not  bandy  with  thee,  word  for  word, 

"  But  buckle  with  thee  blows,  twice  two  for  one." 

More  (As  for  more  words)  was  an  arbitrary  and  unnecessary 
addition  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

How  an  unnecessary  addition  ?  The  measure  is  incomplete 
without  it.     Steevens. 

The  introduction  of  the  monosyllable  more,  in  my  opinion, 
injures  the  sense  though  it  improves  the  metre.  Were  I  to  intro- 
duce any  word  for  that  purpose,  I  should  choose  to  read — As  for 
wzere  words,  instead  of  ?nore  words.     M.  Mason. 

9  —  I  beseech  God  — ]  The  folio  reads — I  beseech  Jove. 
This  heathen  deity,  with  whom  Cade  was  not  likely  to  be  much 
acquainted,  was  undoubtedly  introduced  by  the  editor  of  the  folio 
to  avoid  the  penalty  of  the  statute,  3  Jac.  i.  ch.  2.  In  the  old 
play,  1600,  he  says,  "  I  beseech  God\.\\o\x  might'st  fall  into  some 
smith's  hand,  and  be  turned  to  hobnails."  This  the  editor  of  the 
second  edition  of  the  quarto  play,  no  date,  but  printed  in  1619, 
changed  (from  the  same  apprehension)  to  "  \  would  thon  might'st 
fall,"  &c.  These  alterations  fully  confirm  my  note  on  King 
Henry  V.  Act  IV.  Sc.III.  [where  the  King  swears  "  hy  Jove."''] — 
Contrary  to  the  general  rule  which  I  have  observed  in  printing 
this  plav,  I  have  not  adhered  in  the  present  instance  to  the 
reading  of  the  folio ;  because  I  am  confident  that  it  proceeded 
not  from  Shakspeare,  but  his  editor,  who,  for  the  reason  already 
given,  makes  Falstaff  say  to  Prince  Henry — "  I  knew  ye  as  well 
as  he  that  made  ye,"  instead  of — "  By  the  Lord,  I  knew  ye,"  &c. 

Malone. 


334  SECOND  PART  OF  act  ir. 

'  to  hobnails.  [Theyjight.  C.-ide  falls.']  O,  I  am 
'  slain  I  famine  I  and  no  other,  hath  slain  me  :  let 
'  ten  thousand  devils  come  against  me,  and  give  me 
'  but  the  ten  meals  I  have  lost,  and  I'd  de^'  them 
'  all.     Wither,  garden  ;  and  be  henceforth  a  hnry- 

*  ing-place  to  all  that  do  dv/ell  in  this  house,  be- 
'  cause  the  unconquered  soul  of  Cade  is  fled. 

'  Idex.  1st  Cade  that  I  have  slain,  that  monstrous 
traitor .' 
'  Sword,  I  v.ill  hallow  thee  for  this  thy  deed, 

*  And  hang  thee  o"er  my  tomb,  when  I  am  dead' : 

*  Ne'er  shall  this  blood  be  wiped  from  thy  point ; 

*  But  thou  shalt  wear  it  as  a  herald's  coat, 

*  To  emblaze  the  honour  that  thy  master  got. 

*  Cade.  Iden,  farewell;  and  be  proud  of  thy  \'ic- 
'  tory:  Tell  Kent  from  me,  she  hath  lost  her  best 
'  man,  and  exhort  all  the  world  to  be  cowards ;  for 


'  —  when  I  am  dead,  &,c.]  How  Iden  was  to  hang  a  sword 
over  bus  own  tomb,  after  he  was  dead,  it  is  not  easy  to  explain. 
The  sentiment  is  more  correctly  expressed  in  the  quarto  : 

"  Oh,  sword.  111  honour  thee  for  this,  and  in  my  chamber 
*'  Shalt  thou  hang,  as  a  monument  to  after  age, 
"  For  thLs  great  service  thou  hast  done  to  me." 

Steeven's. 
Here  again  we  have  a  single  thought  considerably  amplified. 
Shakspeare,  in  new  moulding  this  speech,  has  ased  the  same  mode 
of  expression  that  he  has  employed  in  The  Winters  Tale  :  "  If 
thou'lt  see  a  thing  to  talk  on,  when  thou  art  dead  and  rotten, 
come  hither,"  i.  e.  for  people  to  taVt  of.  So  again,  in  a  subse- 
quent scene  of  the  play  before  us  : 

"  And  dead  mens  cries  do  fill  the  empty  air." 
\\'hich  of  our  author's  plays  does  not  exhibit  expressions  equally 
bold  as  "  I  will  hang  thee,"  to  express  "  I  will  have  thee  hung  ?  " 
I  must  jast  observe,  that  most  of  our  author's  additions  are 
strongly  characteristick  of  hLs  manner.  The  making  Iden's  sword 
wear  the  stains  of  Cade's  blootl  on  its  point,  and  comparing  those 
stains  to  a  herald's  coat,  declare  at  once  the  pen  of  Shakspeare. 

Maloxb. 
So,  in  the  mock  play  perfonn'd  in  Hamlet : 
'■'  smear  d 


"  With  heraldry  more  dismal ."     Steeven; 


sc.  X.  KING  HENRY  VI.  335 


o 


'  I,  that  never  feared  any,  am  vanquished  by  famine, 

*  not  by  valour.  [^Dies. 

*  Insx.  How  much  thou  wrong'st  me^  heaven 
be  my  judge. 

*  Die,  damned  wretch,  the  curse  of  her  that  bare 

thee ! 

*  And  as  I  thrust  thy  body  in  with  my  sword, 

*  So  wish  I,  I  might  thrust  thy  soul  to  hell  ^. 

*  Hence  will  I  drag  thee  headlong  by  the  heels 

*  Unto  a  dunghill,  which  shall  be  thy  grave, 

*  How  much  thou  wrong'st  me,]  That  is,  in  supposing  that  I 
am  proud  of  my  victory.     Johnson. 

An  anonymous  writer  [Mr.  llitson,]  suggests  that  the  meaning 
may  be,  that  Cade  wrongs  Iden  by  undervaluing  his  prowess, 
declaring  that  he  was  subdued  by  famine,  not  by  the  valour  of  his 
adversary. — I  think  Dr.  Johnson's  is  the  true  interpretation. 

Malone. 

3  So  wish  I,  I  might  thrust  thy  soul  to  hell,  &c.]  Not  to 
dwell  upon  the  wickedness  of  this  horrid  wish,  with  which  Iden 
debases  his  character,  the  whole  speech  is  wild  and  confused.  To 
draw  a  man  by  the  heels,  headh)ng,  is  somewhat  dilTicult ;  nor 
can  I  discover  how  the  dunghill  would  be  his  grave,  if  his  trunk 
were  left  to  be  fed  upon  by  crows.  These  !  conceive  not  to  be 
the  faults  of  corruption  but  negligence,  and  therefore  do  not 
attempt  correction.     Johnson. 

The  quarto  is  more  favoural)le  both  to  Iden's  morality  and  lan- 
guage. It  omits  this  savage  wish,  and  makes  him  only  add,  after 
the  lines  I  have  just  quoted  : 

"  I'll  drag  him  hence,  and  with  my  sword 
"  Cut  off  his  head,  and  bear  it  to  the  king." 

The  player  editors  seem  to  have  preferred  want  of  humanity 
and  common  sense,  to  fewness  of  lines,  and  defect  of  versification. 

Steevens. 

By  headlong  the  poet  undoubtedly  meant,  with  his  head  trailed 
along  the  ground.  By  saying,  "  the  dunghill  shall  be  thy  grave," 
Iden  means,  the  dunghill  shall  be  the  place  where  thy  dead  hodij 
shall  he  laid:  the  dunghill  shall  be  the  o»/// grave  which  thou 
shalt  have.  Surely  in  poetry  this  is  allowable.  So,  in  Macbeth  : 
"  our  monuments 

"  Shall  be  the  maws  of  kites." 

After  what  has  been  already  stated,  I  fear  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged, that  this  faulty  amplification  was  owing  rather  to  our  au- 
thor's desire  to  expand  a  scanty  thought  of  a  preceding  writer, 
than  to  any  want  of  judgment  in  the  player  editors.     Malone. 


336  SECOND  PART  OF  act  r. 

*  And  there  cut  off  thy  most  ungracious  head ; 

*  Which  I  will  bear  in  triumph  to  the  king, 

*  Leaving  thy  trunk  for  crows  to  feed  upon. 

[^Exit  dragging  out  the  Body. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 

The  Same.     Fields  between  Dartford  and  Black- 
heath. 

The  King's  Camp  on  one  side.  On  the  other,  enter 
York  attended,  with  Drum  and  Colours:  his 
Forces  at  some  distance. 

*  York.  From  Ireland  thus  comes  York,  to  claim 
his  right, 

*  And  pluck  the  crown  from  feeble  Henry's  head  : 

*  Ring,  bells,  aloud ;  burn,  bonfires,  clear  and  bright, 

*  To  entertain  great  England's  lawful  king. 

Ah,  sancta  majestas'^!    who  would  not  buy  thee 
dear  ? 

*  Let  them  obey,  that  know  not  how  to  rule ; 

*  This  hand  was  made  to  handle  nought  but  gold : 
'  I  cannot  give  due  action  to  my  words, 

*  Except  a  sword,  or  scepter,  balance  it  \ 

*  A  scepter  shall  it  have,  have  1  a  soul^; 

^  Ah,  SANCTA  MAJESTAS  !]  Thus  the  old  copy;  instead  of 
which  the  modern  editors  read,   Ah,  majesty  !     Steevens. 

5  —  balance  it,]     That  is,  balance  my  hand.     Johnson'. 

<5  A  scepter  shall  it  have,  have  I  a  soul  ;]     I  read  : 
"  A  scepter  shall  it  have,  have  I  a  sword." 

York  observes  that  his  hand  must  be  employed  with  a  sword 
or  scepter  ;  he  then  naturally  observes,  that  he  has  a  sword,  and 
resolves  that,  if  he  has  a  sword,  he  will  have  a  scepter. 

Johnson. 

I  rather  think  York  means  to  say — If  I  have  a  soul,  my  hand 
shall  not  be  without  a  scepter.     Steevens, 


sc.  1.  KING  HENRY  VI.  337 

*  On  which  I'll  toss  the  flower-de-luce  of  France. 

Enter  Buckingham. 

'  Whom  have  we  here  ?   Buckingham,   to  disturb 

me  "^ 
'  The  king  hath  sent  him,  sure  :  I  must  dissemble. 
'  Buck.  York,  if  thou  meanest  well,  I  greet  thee 

well. 
'  York.  Humphrey  of  Buckingham,  I  accept  thy 
greeting. 

*  Art  thou  a  messenger,  or  come  of  pleasure  ? 

*  Buck.  A  messenger  from    Henry,    our   dread 

liege, 

*  To  know  the  reason  of  these  arms  in  peace ; 
'  Or  why,  thou — being  a  subject  as  I  am'', — 

'  Against  thy  oath  and  true  allegiance  sworn, 

*  Should 'st  raise  so  great  a  power  without  his  leave, 


This  certainly  is  a  veiy  natural  interpretation  of  these  words, 
and  being  no  friend  to  alteration  merely  for  the  sake  of  improve- 
ment, we  onght,  I  think,  to  acquiesce  in  it.  But  some  difficulty 
will  still  remain  ;  for  if  we  read,  with  the  old  copy,  soul,  York 
threatens  to  "  toss  the  flower-de-luce  of  France  on  his  scepter,'' 
which  sounds  but  oddly.  To  toss  it  on  his  sivord,  was  a  threat 
very  natural  for  a  man  who  had  already  triumphed  over  the  French, 
So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III. : 

"  The  soldiers  should  have  toss'd  me  on  their  pikes." 
However,  in  the  licentious  phraseology  of  our  author,  York 
may  mean,  that  he  will  ivield  his  scepter,  (that  is,  exercise  his 
royal  power,)  when  he  obtains  it,  so  as  to  abase  and  destroy  the 
French. — The  following  line  also  in  King  Henry  VIII.  adds  sup- 
port to  the  old  copy  : 

"  Sir,  as  I  have  a  soul,  she  is  an  angel."     Malone. 
7  — being  a  subject  as  I  am,]      Here  again  in  the  old  play  we 
have  the  style  and  versification  of  our  author's  immediate  prede- 
cessors : 

"  Or  that  thou,  being  a  subject  as  I  am, 
"■  Should'st  thus  approach  so  near  with  colours  spread, 
"  Whereas  the  person  of  the  king  doth  keepe."    Malonf.. 
VOL.  XVIII.  Z 


338  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Or  dare  to  bring  thy  force  so  near  the  court. 

*  York.  Scarce  can   I  speak  ^   my   choler  is  so 

great. 

*  O,  I  could  hew  up  rocks,  and  fight  with  flint, 
'  I  am  so  angry  at  these  abject  terms; 

'  And  now,  Hke  Ajax  Telamonius, 

'  On  sheep  or  oxen  could  I  spend  my  fury ! 

*  I  am  far  better  born  than  is  the  king ; 

'  More  like  a  king,  more  kingly  in  my  thoughts  : 
'  But  I  must  make  fair  weather  yet  a  while, 

*  Till  Henry  be  more  weak,  and  1  more  strong. — 

\Aside. 
'  O  Buckingham  ^,  I  pr'ythee,  pardon  me, 

*  That  I  have  given  no  answer  all  this  while  ; 

'  My  mind  was  troubled  with  deep  melancholy. 
'  The  cause  why  I  have  brought  this  army  hither, 
'  Is — to  remove  proud  Somerset  from  the  king, 

*  Seditious  to  his  grace,  and  to  the  state. 

'  Buck.  That  is  too  much  presumption  on  thy 
part : 

*  But  if  thy  arms  be  to  no  other  end, 

'  The  king  hath  yielded  unto  thy  demand; 

*  The  duke  of  Somerset  is  in  the  Tower. 

York.  Upon  thine  honour,  is  he  prisoner  ? 
Buck.  Upon  mine  honour,  he  is  prisoner. 

*  York.    Then,  Buckingham,    I    do  dismiss  my 

powers. — 
'  Soldiers,  I  thank  you  all ;  disperse  yourselves ; 

8  Scarce  can  I  speak,  &c.]     The  first  nine  lines  of  this  speech 
are  founded  on  the  following  In  the  old  play : 

"  A  subject  as  he  is  ! 

"  O,  how  I  hate  these  spiteful  abject  terms  ! 

"  But  York  dissemble,  till  thou  7neet  thy  sonnes, 

"  Who  now  in  arms  expect  their  father's  sight, 

"  And  not  far  hence  I  linow  they  cannot  be."     MaloxVe. 

9  O  Buckingham.]     O,  which  is  not  in   the   authentick  copy, 
was  added,  to  supply  the  metre,  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONli. 


sc.  /.  KING  HENRY  VI.  339 

*  Meet  me  to-morrow  in  Saint  George's  field, 

*  You  shall  have  pay,  and  every  thing  you  wish. 

*  And  let  my  sovereign,  virtuous  Henry, 

*  Command  my  eldest  son, — nay,  all  my  sons, 

*  As  pledges  of  my  fealty  and  love, 

*  I'll  send  them  all  as  willing  as  I  live  ; 

*  Lands,  goods,  horse,  armour,  any  thing  I  have 

*  Is  his  to  use,  so  Somerset  may  die. 

*  Buck.  York,  I  commend  this  kind  submission : 

*  We  twain  will  go  into  his  highness'  tent  \ 

Enter  King  Henry,  attended, 

*  K.  Hex.   Buckingham,  doth   York   intend   no 

harm  to  us, 

*  That  thus  he  marcheth  with  thee  arm  in  arm  ? 

*  York.   In  all  submission  and  humility, 

*  York  doth  present  himself  unto  your  highness. 

*  K.  Hen.  Then  what  intend  these  forces  thou 

dost  bring  ? 

*  York.   To   heave    the    traitor   Somerset   from 

hence '" ; 

*  And  fight  against  that  monstrous  rebel,  Cade, 
"  Who  since  I  heard  to  be  discomfited. 

Enter  Iden,  with  Cades  Head. 

*  Iden.  If  one  so  rude,  and  of  so  mean  condition, 

'  We  twain  will  go  into  his  highness'  tent.]  Shakspeare  has 
here  deviated  from  the  original  play  without  much  propriety. — 
He  has  followed  it  in  making  Henry  come  to  Buckingham  and 
York,  instead  of  their  going  to  him  ; — yet  without  the  introduc- 
tion found  in  the  quarto,  where  the  lines  stand  thus  : 

"  Biick.  Come,  York,  thou  shaJt  go  speak  unto  the  king ; — 
"  But  see,  his  grace  is  coming  to  meet  with  us."  Malone. 
^  York.  To  heave  the  traitor  Somerset  from  hence  ;]  The  cor- 
responding speech  to  this  is  given  in  the  old  play  to  Buckingham, 
and  acquaints  the  King  with  the  plea  that  York  had  before  made 
to  him  for  his  rising:  "To  heave  the  duke  of  Somerset,"  &c. 
This  variation  could  never  have  arisen  from  copyists,  short-hand 
writers,  or  printers.     Malone. 

Z2 


340  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

'  May  pass  into  the  presence  of  a  king, 
'  Lo,  I  present  your  grace  a  traitor's  head, 
'  The  head  of  Cade,  whom  I  in  combat  slew. 

*  K.  Hen.  The  head  of  Cade  ^  ? — Great  God,  how 

just  art  thou  ! — 

*  O,  let  me  view  his  visage  being  dead, 

*  That  living  wrought  me  such  exceeding  trouble. 

'  Tell  me,  my  friend,  art  thou  the  man  that  slew 
him  ? 
'  Idejv.  I  was,  an't  like  your  majesty. 
'  K.  Hen.  How  art  thou  call'd  ?  and  what  is  thy 

degree  ? 
'  Iden.  Alexander  Iden,  that's  my  name ; 
'  A  poor  esquire  of  Kent,  that  loves  his  king. 

*  Buck.  So  please  it  you,  my  lord,  'twere  not 

amiss 

*  He  were  created  knight  for  his  good  service. 

'  K.  Hen.  Iden,  kneel  down  ;   \_He  kneels.^  Rise 
up  a  knight. 

*  We  give  thee  for  reward  a  thousand  marks ; 
'  And  will,  that  thou  henceforth  attend  on  us. 

'  Iden.  May  Iden  live  to  merit  such  a  bounty, 
'  And  never  live  but  true  unto  his  liege  ^ ! 


3  The  head  of  Cade  ?]  The  speech  corresponding  to  this  in  the 
first  part  of  The  Whole  Contention,  &.c.  1600,  is  alone  sufficient 
to  prove  that  piece  the  work  of  another  poet : 

"  Kiyig.  First,  thanks  to  heaven,  and  next,  to  thee,  my  friend, 
"  That  hast  subdu'd  that  wicked  traitor  thus. 
"  O,  let  me  see  that  head,  that  in  his  life 
"  Did  work  me  and  my  land  such  cruel  spight. 
"  A  visage  stern  ;  coal-black  his  curled  locks  ; 
"  Deep  trenched  ^furrows  in  his  J'r  owning  broiv, 
'*  Presageth  tvarli/ce  humours  in  his  life. 
"  Here  take  it  hence,  and  thou  for  thy  reward 
"  Shalt  be  immediately  created  knight  : 
"  Kneel  down,  my  friend,  and  tell  me  what's  thy  name." 

Malone. 
'  May  Iden,  &c.]     Iden  has  said  before  : 

"  Lord !  who  would  live  turmoiled  in  a  court, 
''  And  may  enjoy,"  &.c. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  341 

'  K.  Hen.  See,  Buckingham  !    Somerset  comes 

with  the  queen ; 
'  Go,  bid  her  hide  him  quickly  from  the  duke. 

Enter  Queen  Margaret  and  Somerset. 

'  Q.  Mar.  For  thousand  Yorks  he  shall  not  hide 
his  head, 

*  But  boldly  stand,  and  front  him  to  his  face. 

*  York.  How  now^ !  Is  Somerset  at  liberty  ? 

*  Then,  York,  unloose  thy  long-imprison'd  thoughts, 
'  And  let  thy  tongue  be  equal  with  thy  heart. 

'  Shall  I  endure  the  sight  of  Somerset  ? — 

'  False  king !  why  hast  thou  broken  faith  with  me, 

*  Knowing  how  hardly  I  can  brook  abuse  ? 

*  King  did  I  call  thee  ?  no,  thou  art  not  king ; 
'  Not  fit  to  govern  and  rule  multitudes, 

*  Which  dar'st  not,  no,  nor  canst  not  rule  a  traitor. 

*  That  hand  of  thine  doth  not  become  a  crown  ; 
'  Thy  hand  is  made  to  grasp  a  palmer's  staff, 

'  And  not  to  grace  an  awful  princely  scepter. 

*  That  gold  must  round  engirt  these  brows  of  mine  : 
'  Whose  smile  and  frown,  like  to  Achilles'  spear, 

Shakspeare  makes  Iden  rail  at  those  enjoyments  which  he  sup- 
poses to  be  out  of  his  reach  ;  but  no  sooner  are  they  offered  to 
him  but  he  readily  accepts  them.     Anonymous. 

In  Iden's  eulogium  on  the  happiness  of  rural  life,  and  in  his 
acceptance  of  the  honours  bestowed  by  his  majesty,  Shakspeare 
has  merely  followed  the  old  play.     Malone. 

5  How  now !  &c.]  This  speech  is  greatly  amplified,  and  in 
other  respects  very  different  from  the  original,  which  consists  of 
but  ten  lines : 

"  York.  Who's  that?  proud  Somerset  at  liberty? 
"  Base  fearful  Henry,  that  thus  dishonour'st  me, 
"  By  heaven,  thou  shalt  not  govern  over  me  ! 
"  I  cannot  brook  that  traitor's  presence  here, 
"  Nor  will  I  subject  be  to  such  a  king, 
"  That  knows  not  how  to  govern,  nor  to  rule. 
'*  Resign  thy  crown,  proud  Lancaster,  to  me, 
"  That  thou  usurped  hast  so  long  by  force  ; 
"  For  now  is  York  resolv'd  to  claim  his  own, 
"  And  rise  aloft  unto  fair  England's  throne."     Malone. 


342  SECOND  PART  OF  act  V. 

*  Is  able  with  the  change  to  kill  and  cure  ®. 

*  Here  is  a  hand  to  hold  a  scepter  up, 

*  And  with  the  sanne  to  act  controlling  laws. 

*  Give  place  ;  by  heaven,  thou  shalt  rule  no  more 

*  O'er  him,  whom  heaven  created  for  thy  ruler. 

*  SoM.   O    monstrous    traitor "  ! — I    arrest   thee, 

York, 

*  Of  capital  treason  'gainst  the  king  and  crown  : 

*  Obey,  audacious  traitor;  kneel  for  grace. 

*  York.  Would'st  have  me  kneel  ?  first  let  me  ask 

of  these, 

*  If  they  can  brook  I  bow  a  knee  to  man. — 

*  Sirrah,  call  in  my  sons  to  be  my  bail  ^ ; 

\Ea;it  an  Attendant, 


like  to  Achilles'  spear, 


Is  able  with  the  change  to  kill  and  cure.] 

Mysus  et  iEmoniajuvenis  quacuspide  vulnus 
Senserat,  hac  ipsa  cuspide  sensitopem. 

Propert.  lib.  ii.  el.  i, 
Greene,  in  his  Orlando  Furioso,  1599,  has  the  same  allusion : 
•'  Where  I  took  hurt,  there  have  I  heal'd  myself; 
"  As  those  that  with  Achilles'  launce  were  wounded, 
"  Fetch'd  help  at  self-same  pointed  speare."     Malone. 

7  O  monstrous  traitor!  &c.]  The  variation  between  this 
speech  and  the  original  is  worth  noting.  In  the  old  play  Somer- 
set says  : 

"  Proud  traitor,  I  arrest  thee  on  high  treason 
•'  Against  thy  sovereign  lord  :    yield  thee,  false  York, 
"  For  here  I  swear  thou  shalt  unto  the  Tower, 
"  For  these  proud  words  which  thou  hast  given  the  King." 

Malone. 

8  Would'st  have  me  kneel  ?  first  let  me  ask  of  these. 
If  they  can  brook  I  bow  a  knee  to  man. — 

Sirrah,  call  in  my  sons  to  be  my  bail  ;J  As  these  lines  stand, 
I  think  the  sense  perplexed  and  obscure.  I  have  ventured  to 
transpose  them.     Wakburton. 

I  believe  these  lines  should  be  replaced  in  the  order  in  which 
they  stood  till  Dr.  Warburton  transposed  them.  By  tliese  York 
means  his  knees.  He  speaks,  as  Mr.  Upton  would  have  said, 
JsjwTixwf  :  laying  his  hand  upon,  or  at  least  pointing  to,  his  knees. 

Tyrwhitt. 
By  these  York  evidently  means  his  sons,  whom  he  had  just 


sv.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  343 

*  I  know,  ere  they  will  have  me  go  to  ward, 

*  They'll  pawn  their  swords  for  my  enfranchisement. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Call  hither  ChfFord ;    bid  him  come 

amain, 

*  To  say,  if  that  the  bastard  boys  of  York 

*  Shall  be  the  surety  for  their  traitor  father. 

*  York.  O  blood-bespotted  Neapolitan, 

*  Outcast  of  Naples,  England's  bloody  scourge ! 

*  The  sons  of  York,  thy  betters  in  their  birth, 

*  Shall  be  their  father  s  bail ;  and  bane  to  those  ^ 

*  That  for  my  surety  will  refuse  the  boys. 

Enter  Edtvarb  and  Richard  Plantagenet,  with 
Forces,  at  one  side ;  at  the  other y  xvith  Forces 
also,  old  Clifford  and  his  Son. 

*  See  where  they  come;  I'll  warrant  they'll  make 

it  good. 

*  Q.  Mar.    And  here   comes  Clifford,   to   deny 

their  bail. 

*  Clif.  Health  and  all  happiness  to  my  lord  the 

king!  \_Kneels. 

called  for.  Tyrwhitt's  supposition,  that  he  meant  to  ask  his 
knees,  whether  he  should  bow  his  knees  to  any  man,  is  not  ima- 
gined with  his  usual  sagacity.     M.  Mason. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  York  means  either  his  sons,  whom  he 
mentions  in  the  next  line,  or  his  troops,  to  whom  he  may  be  sup- 
posed to  point.  Dr.  Warburton  transposed  the  lines,  placing  that 
which  is  now  the  middle  line  of  tiie  speech  at  the  beginning  of  it. 
But,  like  many  of  his  emendations,  it  appears  to  have  been  un- 
necessary. The  folio  reads — "  of  thee."  The  emendation  was 
made  by  Mr.  Theobald.  Sous  was  substituted  for  son  by  the 
editor  of  the  second  folio.  The  correction  is  justified  both  by  the 
context  and  the  old  play  ;  "  For  my  enfranchisement,"  instead  of 
— "  of  my,"  ike.  was  likewise  his  correction.     Malone. 

9  Shall  be  their  father's  bail ;  and  bane  to  those  — ]  Consi- 
dering how  our  author  loves  to  play  on  words  similar  in  their 
sound,  but  opposite  in  their  signification,  I  make  no  doubt  but 
the  author  wrote  bail  and  bale.  Bale  (from  whence  our  common 
adjective,  baleful)  signifies  detriment,  ruin,  misfortune,  &c. 

Theobald. 

Bale  signifies  sorroiv.     Either  word  may  serve.     Johnsok. 


344  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v, 

*  York.  I  thank  thee,  Clifford :  Say,  what  news 

with  thee  ? 
'  Nay,  do  not  fright  us  with  an  angry  look  : 
'  We  are  thy  sovereign,  Chfford,  kneel  again  ; 
'  For  thy  mistaking  so,  we  pardon  thee. 

'  Clip.  This  is  my  king,  York,  I  do  not  mistake  ; 
'  But  thou  mistak'st  me  much,  to  think  I  do : — 
'  To  Bedlam  with  him  !  is  the  man  grown  mad  ? 
'  K.  Hen.  Ay,  Clifford;  a  bedlam  and  ambitious 
humour  ^ 

*  Makes  him  oppose  himself  against  his  king. 

'  Clif.  He  is  a  traitor  ;  let  him  to  the  Tower, 
And  chop  away  that  factious  pate  of  his. 
Q.  Mar.   He  is  arrested,  but  will  not  obey ; 
'  His  sons,  he  says,  shall  give  their  words  for  him. 

*  York.  Will  you  not,  sons  ? 

Edjv.  Ay,  noble  father,  if  our  words  will  serve. 
'  Rich.  And  if  words  will  not,  then  our  weapons 
shall. 

*  Clif.  Why,  what  a  brood  of  traitors  have  we 

here ! 

*  York.  Look  in  a  glass,  and  call  thy  image  so ; 

*  I  am  thy  king,  and  thou  a  false-heart  traitor. — 

9  — a  BEDLAM  and  ambitious  humour — ]  The  woxA  bedlam 
was  not  used  in  the  reign  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  nor  was  Beth- 
lehem Hospital  (vulgarly  called  Bedlam)  converted  into  a  house 
or  hospital  for  lunaticks  till  the  reign  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth, 
who  gave  it  to  the  city  of  London  for  that  purpose.      Grey. 

Shakspeare  was  led  into  this  anachronism  by  the  author  of  the 
elder  play.     Malone. 

It  is  no  anachronism,  and  Dr.  Grey  was  mistaken  :  "  Next 
unto  the  parish  of  St.  Buttolph,"  says  Stow,  "  is  a  fayre  inne  for 
receipt  of  travellers  :  then  an  Ilospita/l  of  S.  Marij  of  Bethelem, 
founded  by  Simon  Fitz  Mary,  one  of  the  Sherifl'es  of  London,  in 
the  yeare  I'i^G.  He  founded  it  to  haue  beene  a  priorie  of  Can- 
nons with  brethren  and  sisters,  and  king  Jidvvard  the  thirde 
granted  a  protection,  vvhich  I  haveseene,  for  the  brethren  Mi/icice 
beatce  Marice  de  Beth/an,  within  the  citie  of  London,  the  14 
yeare  of  his  raigne.  li  was  an  liospilall  for  distracted  peo^^leS" 
Survey  of  London,  LGOS,  p.  127.     Ritson. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  315 

*  Call  hither  to  the  stake  my  two  brave  bears, 

*  That,  with  the  very  shaking  of  their  chains, 

*  They  may  astonish  these  fell  lurking  curs  ^  ; 

*  Bid  Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  come'-  to  me  '. 

Drums.     Enter  Warwick  and  Salisbury,  with 

Forces. 

'  Clip.  Are  these  thy  bears  ?  we'll  bait  thy  bears 
to  death, 

*  And  manacle  the  bear- ward  in  their  chains, 

'  If  thou  dar'st  bring  them  to  the  baiting- place. 
*  Rich.  Oft  have  I  seen  "  a  hot  o'erweening  cur 

*  Run  back  and  bite,  because  he  was  withheld ; 

*  Who,  being  suffer'd^  with  the  bear's  fell  paw, 

*  Hath  ciapp'd  his  tail  between  his  legs,  and  cry'd  : 

*  And  such  a  piece  of  service  will  you  do, 

1  — FELL  LURKING  curs ;]  Ml*.  Roderick  would  read  "fell 
harking;"  Mr.  Heath,  "fell  lurching;"  but,  perhaps,  hy  Jell 
lurking  is  meant  curs  who  are  at  once  a  compound  of  cruelty  and 
treachery.     Steevens. 

^  Call  hither  to  the  stake  my  two  brave  bears, — 
Bid  Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  come—]     The  Nevils,  earls  of 
\\''arwick,  had  a  bear  and  ragged  stajfiox  their  cognizance. 

Sir  J.  Hawkins. 

3  Bid  Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  come  to  me.]  Here  in  the  old 
play  the  following  lines  are  found  : 

"  King.  Call  Buckingham,  and  bid  him  arm  himself. 
"  York.  Call  Buckingham  and  all  the  friends  thou  hast ; 
"  Both  thou  and  they  shall  curse  this  fatal  hour." 
Buckingham   accordingly  enters  immediately  with    his   forces. 
Shakspeare,  we  see,  has  not  introduced  him  in  the  present  scene, 
but  has  availed  himself  of  those  lines  below.     Malone. 

4  Oft  have  I  seen,  &c.]  Bear-baiting  was  anciently  a  royal 
sport.  See  Stowe's  account  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Amusements 
of  this  kind  ;  and  Langham's  Letter  concerning  that  Queen's 
Entertainment  at  Kenelworth  Castle.     Percy. 

The  one  of  them  has  adopted  his  description  from  the  other. 

Henley. 

5  — being  suffer'd — ]  Being  suffer'd  to  approach  to  the 
bear's  fell  paw.  Such  may  be  the  meaning.  I  am  not,  however, 
sure,  but  the  poet  meant^  being  in  a  state  oi  sufferance  or  pain. 

Malone. 


346  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  If  you  oppose  yourselves  to  match  lord  Warwick . 

*  Clip.  Hence,  heap  of  wrath,  foul  indigested 

lump, 

*  As  crooked  in  thy  manners  as  thy  shape  ! 

*  York.  Nay,  we  shall  heat  you  thoroughly  anon. 

*  Clif.  Take  heed,   lest  by  your  heat  you  burn 

yourselves  *'. 

*  K.  Hex.  Why,  Warwick,  hath  thy  knee  forgot 

to  bow? — 

*  Old  Salisbury, — shame  to  thy  silver  hair, 

*  Thou  mad  misleader  of  thy  brain-sick  son  ! — 

*  What,  wilt  thou  on  thy  death-bed  play  the  ruffian, 

*  And  seek  for  sorrow  with  thy  spectacles  ? 

*  O,  where  is  faith  ?  O,  where  is  loyalty  ? 

*  If  it  be  banish'd  from  the  frosty  head, 

*  Where  shall  it  find  a  harbour  in  the  earth  ? — 

*  Wilt  thou  go  dig  a  grave  to  find  out  war, 

*  And  shame  thine  honourable  age  with  blood  ? 

*  Why  art  thou  old,  and  want'st  experience  ? 

*  Or  wherefore  dost  abuse  it,  if  thou  hast  it  ? 

*  For  shame  !  in  duty  bend  thy  knee  to  me, 

*  That  bows  unto  the  grave  with  mickle  age. 

*  S.iL.  My  lord,  I  have  consider'd  with  myself 

*  The  title  of  this  most  renowned  duke  ; 

*  And  in  my  conscience  do  repute  his  grace 

*  The  rightful  heir  to  England's  royal  seat. 

*  K.  Hen.  Hast  thou  not  sworn  allegiance  unto 

me  ? 

*  Sal.   I  have. 

*  A^  Hex.  Canst  thou  dispense  with  heaven  for 

such  an  oath  ? 

*  Sal.   It  is  great  sin,  to  swear  unto  a  sin  "  ; 

^  Take  heed,  lest  by  your  heat  you  burn  yourselves.]     So,  in 
King  Henry  Vlil.  : 

"  lieat  not  a  furnace  for  yourself  so  hot, 
"  That  it  do  singe  yourselj."     Steevens. 
7  It  is  great  sin,  to  swear  unto  a  sin  ;  S;c.]    We  have  the  same 
sentiment  in  Love's  Labours  Lost : 


sc.  I.  KING  HENUY  VI.  347 

*  But  greater  sin,  to  keep  a  sinful  oath. 

*  Who  can  be  bound  by  any  solemn  vow 

*  To  do  a  murderous  deed,  to  rob  a  man, 

*  To  force  a  spotless  virgin's  chastity, 

*  To  reave  the  orphan  of  his  patrimony, 

*  To  wring  the  widow  from  her  custom'd  right ; 

*  And  have  no  other  reason  for  this  wrong, 

*  But  that  he  was  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  ? 

*  Q.  Mar.  a  subtle  traitor  needs  no  sophister. 

*  K.  Hen.  Call  Buckingham,  and  bid  him  arm 

himself. 

*  York.  Call  Buckingham,    and    all  the   friends 

thou  hast, 
'  I  am  resolv'd  for  death,  or  dignity  ^. 

'  Cljf.  The  first  I  warrant  thee,  if  dreams  prove 
true. 

*  IV^R.  You  were  best  to  go  to  bed,  and  dream 

again. 
To  keep  thee  from  the  tempest  of  the  field. 

Clip.   I  am  resolv'd  to  bear  a  greater  storm. 
Than  any  thou  canst  conjure  up  to-day  ; 
And  that  I'll  write  upon  thy  burgonet^, 
Might  I  but  know  thee  by  thy  household  badge  \ 

"•It  is  religion,  to  be  thus  forsworn." 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

*'  It  is  religion  that  doth  make  vows  kept  ; 

"  But  thou  dost  swear  only  to  be  forsworn  ; 

"  And  most  forsworn  to  keep  what  thou  dost  swear." 

Malone, 
^  — for  death,  OR  dignity.]     The  folio  reads — "a«af  dignity." 
The  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope,     Malone. 
9  —  burgonet,]      Is  a  helmet.     Johnson. 
So,  in  The  Martyr'd  Soldier,  1638  : 

" now  tye 

"  Strong  charms  upon  my  full-plum'd  burgonet."' 

Steevens. 
^  —  thy  HOUSEHOLD  badge,]     The  folio  has — housed  badge, 
owing  probably  to  the  transcriber's  ear  deceiving  him.     The  true 
reading  is  found  in  the  old  play.     Malone. 


348  SECOND  PART  OF  ^ct  f. 

IP  AR.    Now,   by  my  father's  badge  old  Nevil's 
crest, 
The  rampant  bear  chain'd  to  the  ragged  staff. 
This  day  I'll  wear  aloft  my  burgonet, 
(As  on  a  mountain -top  the  cedar  shows, 
That  keeps  his  leaves  in  spite  of  any  storm,) 
Even  to  affright  thee  with  the  view  thereof. 

Clif.  And  from  thy  burgonet  I'll  rend  thy  bear, 
And  tread  it  under  foot  with  all  contempt, 
'  Despight  the  bear-ward  that  protects  the  bear. 

'  K  Clif.   And  so  to  arms,  victorious  father, 
*  To  quell  the  rebels,  and  their  'complices. 

Rich.  Fye !   charity,  for  shame  !   speak   not   in 
spite. 
For  you  shall  sup  with  Jcsu  Christ  to-night. 

'  Y.  Clif.    Foul   stigmatick '",  that's  more  than 

thou  canst  tell. 
*  Rich.  If  not  in  heaven,  you "11  surely  sup  in  hell. 

lE.veioit  several/ 1/. 

SCENE  II. 

Saint  Albans. 

Clarions  :  Excursions.     Enter  Wartvick. 

War.    Clifford   of  Cumberland,    'tis    Warwick 
calls  ! 
And  if  thou  dost  not  hide  thee  from  the  bear. 
Now, — when  the  angry  trumpet  sounds  alarm, 
And  dead  men's  cries  do  fill  the  empty  air,  — 

^  Foul  STIGMATICK,]  k  st'igmatick  i&  one  on  whom  nature  has 
set  a  mark  of  deformity,  a  stigma.     Steevens. 

This  certainly  is  the  meaning  here.  A  stigmatick  originally 
and  properly  signified  a  person  iv/io  has  been  branded  ivit/i  a  hot 
iron Jbr  some  crime.     See  BuUokar's  English  Expositor,  1616. 

Malone. 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  349 

Clifford,  I  say,  come  forth  and  fight  with  me  ! 
Proud  northern  lord,  Clifford  of  Cumberland, 
Warwick  is  hoarse  with  calling  thee  to  arms  ^ . 

Enter  York. 

'  How  now,  my  noble  lord  ?  what,  all  a-foot  ? 
'  York.    The    deadly-handed  Clifford    slew  my 
steed ; 
'  But  match  to  match  I  have  encounter'd  him, 
'  And  made  a  prey  for  carrion  kites  and  crows'* 
'  Even  of  the  bonny  beast  he  lov'd  so  well  \ 

Enter  Clifford. 

*  W.iR.  Of  one  or  both  of  us  the  time  is  come. 
York.  Hold,  Warwick,  seek  thee  out  some  other 
chace. 
For  I  myself^  must  hunt  this  deer  to  death. 

PVar.  Then,  nobly,  York ;  'tis  for  a  crown  thou 
fight'st. — 
'  As  I  intend,  Clifford,  to  thrive  to-day. 
It  grieves  my  soul  to  leave  thee  unassail'd. 

\_E.vit  JVARiricK. 
'  Clip.  What  seest  thou  in  me,  York''  ?  why  dost 
thou  pause  ? 

3  Warwick  is  hoarse  with  calling  thee  to  arms.]  See  Mac- 
beth, vol.  xi.  p.  62,  n.  3.     Steevens. 

4  And  made  a  prey  for  carrion  kites  and  crows — ]  So,  in 
Hamlet : 

"  I  should  have  fatted  all  the  region  kites 
"  With  this  slave's  offal."     Steevens. 

5  Even  of  the  bonny  beast  he  lov'd  so  well.]     In  the  old  play  : 

"  The  bonniest  gray,  that  e'er  was  bred  in  North." 

Malone. 
^  For  I  myself,  &c.]     This  passage  will   remind  the  classical 
reader  of  Achilles' conduct  in  the  22d  Iliad,  v.  205,  where  he  ex- 
presses his  determination  that  Hector  should  fall  by  no  other 
hand  than  his  own.     Steevens. 

7  What  seest  thou  in  me,  York?  &;c.]  Instead  of  this  and  the 
ten  following  lines,  we  find  these  in  the  old  play,  and  the  varia- 
tion is  worth  noting: : 


350  SECOND  PART  OF  ^cr  v. 

'  York.  With  thy  brave  bearing  should  I  be  in 
love, 

*  But  that  thou  art  so  fast  mine  enemy. 

*  Clif.  Nor  should  thy  prowess  want  praise  and 

esteem, 

*  But  that  'tis  shown  ignobly,  and  in  treason. 

'  York.  So  let  it  help  me  now  against  thy  sword, 

*  As  I  in  justice  and  true  right  express  it  ! 

'  Clif.   My  soul  and  body  on  the  action  both  !  — 

'  York.  A  dreadful  lay  ^ ! — address  thee  instantly. 

[They  fight,  and  Clifford  falls. 

*  Clif.  La  Jin  couronne  les  oeuxires'^.         [Dies^. 

"  York.  Now,  Clifford,  since  we  are  singled  here  alone, 
"  Be  this  the  day  of  doom  to  one  of  us  ; 
"  For  now  my  heart  hath  sworn  immortal  hate 
"  To  thee  and  all  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

"  Clif.  And  here  I  stand,  and  pitch  my  foot  to  thine, 
"  Vowing  ne'er  to  stir  till  thou  or  1  be  slain  ; 
"  For  never  shall  mv  heart  be  safe  at  rest, 
"  Till  I  have  spoil'd  the  hateful  house  of  York. 

"  \_Alarums,  andtheifjiglit,  and  York  kills  Clifford. 
"  York.  Now  Lancaster,  sit  sure;  thy  sinews  shrink. 
"  Come,  fearful  Henry,  groveling  on  thy  face, 
"  Yield  up  thy  crown  unto  the  prince  of  York.    \_Exit  York." 

Malone. 
^  A  dreadful  lay  !]     A  dreadful  wager,  a  tremendous  stake. 

Johnson. 
9  Lajtn  COURONNE  les  oeuvres.]     The  players  read  : 

La  fin  corrone  les  eumenes.  Steevens. 
Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  Malone. 
'  Dies.']  Our  author,  in  making  ('lifford  fall  by  the  hand  of 
York,  has  departed  from  the  truth  of  history ;  a  practice  not  un- 
common to  him  when  he  does  his  utmost  to  make  his  characters 
considerable.  This  circumstance,  however,  serves  to  prepare  the 
reader  or  spectator  for  the  vengeance  afterwards  taken  by  Clifford's 
son  on  York  and  Rutland. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  part  of  this 
historical  play,  the  poet  has  forgot  this  occurrence,  and  there  re- 
presents Clifford's  death  as  it  really  happened  : 

"  Lord  Clifford  and  lord  Stafford  all  abreast, 
"  Charg'd  our  main  battle's  front  ;  and  breaking  in, 
"  Were  by  the  swords  of  common  soldiers  slain."    Percy, 
For  this  inconsistency  the  elder  poet   must  answer ;  for  these 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  351 

*  York.    Thus  war  hath  given  thee  peace,  for 

thou  art  still. 
'  Peace  with  his  soul,  heaven,  if  it  be  thy  will ! 

Enter  young  Clifford. 

*  Y.  CiiF.  Shame  and  confusion  !  all  is  on  the 

rout  ^ ; 

*  Fear  frames  disorder,  and  disorder  wounds 

*  Where  it  should  guard.     O  war,  thou  son  of  hell, 

*  Whom  angry  heavens  do  make  their  minister, 

*  Throw  in  the  frozen  bosoms  of  our  part 

*  Hot  coals  of  vengeance  '^ ! — Let  no  soldier  fly : 

*  He  that  is  truly  dedicate  to  war, 

*  Hath  no  self-love  ;  nor  he,  that  loves  himself, 

*  Hath  not  essentially,  but  by  circumstance, 

*  The  name  of  valour. — O,  let  the  vile  world  end ! 

\_Seeing  his  dead  Father. 

lines  are  in  The  True  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  York,  &c. 
on  which,  as  I  conceive,  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  was 
founded.     Malone. 

^  Shame  and  confusion  !  all   is  on  the  rout,   &c.]     Instead  of 
this  long  speech,  we  have  the  following  lines  in  the  old  play  : 
"  Y.  Clifford.  Father  of  Cumberland! 
"  Where  may  I  seek  my  aged  father  forth  ? 
•'  O  dismal  sight !  see  where  he  breathless  lies, 
"  All  smear'd  and  welter'd  in  his  luke-warm  blood  ! 
"  Ah,  aged  pillar  of  all  Cumberland's  true  house  ! 
"  Sweet  father,  to  thy  murdered  ghost  I  swear 
"  Immortal  hate  unto  the  house  of  York ; 
"  Nor  never  shall  I  sleep  secure  one  night, 
"  Till  I  have  furiously  reveng"d  thy  death 
"  And  left  not  one  of  them  to  breathe  on  earth. 

\_He  takes  him  up  on  his  back. 
"  And  thus  as  old  Anchises'  son  did  bear 
"  His  aged  father  on  his  manly  back, 
"  Andfouoht  ivith  him  against  the  bloody  Greeks, 
"  Even  so  will  I  ; — but  stay,  here's  one  of  them, 
"  To  whom  my  soul  hath  sworn  immortal  hate." 

Malone. 
^  Hot  COALS  of  vengeance  !]     This  phrase  is  scriptural.     So, 
in  the  1+Olh  Psalm  :   "  Let  hot  burning  coals  fall  upon  them." 

Steevens. 


352  SECOND  PART  OF  ./tr  f. 

*  And  the  premised  flames  ^  of  the  last  day 

*  Knit  earth  and  heaven  together ! 

*  Now  let  the  general  trumpet  blow  his  blast, 

*  Particularities  and  petty  sounds 

*  To  cease  ^ ! — Wast  thou  ordain'd,  dear  father, 

*  To  lose  thy  youth  in  peace,  and  to  achieve  ^ 

*  The  silver  livery  of  advised  age  " ; 

*  And,  in  thy  reverence  ^  and  thy  chair-days,  thus 

*  To  die  in  ruffian  battle  ? — Even  at  this  sight, 

*  My  heart  is  turn'd  to  stone  '^ :  and,  while  'tis  mine, 

*  It  shall  be  stony  \     York  not  our  old  men  spares  ; 

*  No  more  will  I  their  babes  :  tears  virginal 

*  Shall  be  to  me  even  as  the  dew  to  fire  ; 

*  And  beauty,  that  the  tyrant  oft  reclaims, 

*  Shall  to  my  flaming  wrath  be  oil  and  flax'". 

*  Henceforth,   I  will  not  have  to  do  with  pity : 

4  And  the  premised  flames  — ]  Premised,  for  sent  before  their 
time.  The  sense  is,  let  the  flames  reserved  for  the  last  day  be 
sent  now.     Warburton. 

5  To  CEASE  !]  Is  to  stoj},  a  verb  active.  So,  in  Timon  of 
Athens : 

" be  not  ceas'd 

"  With  slight  denial — ."     Steevens. 
*"  — to  achieve — ^]     Is,  to  obtain.     Johnson. 
7  The  silver  livery  of  advised  age  ;]     Advised  is  ivise,   expe- 
rienced.     M  ALONE. 

Advised  is  cautious,  considerate.     So  before  in  this  play  : 

"  And  bid  me  be  advised  how  I  tread."  Steevens. 
^  And,  in  thy  reverence,]  In  that  period  of  life,  which  is  en- 
titled to  the  reverence  of  others.  Our  author  has  used  the  word 
in  the  same  manner  in  As  You  Like  It,  w^herethe  younger  brother 
savs  to  the  elder,  (speaking  of  their  father,)  "  thou  art  indeed 
nearer  to  his  reverence."     Malone. 

9  My  heart  is  turn'd  to  stone  :]     So,  in  Othello  :   "  —  my  heart 
is  turn'd  to  stone  ;   I  strike  it,  and  it  hurts  my  hand."     Malone. 
'   It  shall  be  stony.]     So  again  in  Othello  : 

"  Thou  dost  st07ie  my  heart." 
And,  in  King  Richard  III.  we  have  "  stone-hard  heart." 

Steevens. 
'  —  to  my  flaming  wrath  be  oil  and  flax,]     So,  in  Hamlet : 
"  To  flaming  youth  let  virtue  be  as  wax, 
"  .\nd  melt  in  her  own  fire."     Steevkns. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  353 

*  Meet  I  an  infant  of  the  house  of  York, 

*  Into  as  many  gobbets  will  I  cut  it, 

*  As  wild  Medea  young  Absyrtus  did  ^ : 

*  In  cruelty  will  I  seek  out  my  fame. 

*  Come,  thou  new  ruin  of  old  Clifford's  ]^6\xse  ; 

{Taking  up  the  Body, 

*  As  did  ^neas  old  Anchises  bear, 

'  So  bear  I  thee  upon  my  manly  shoulders  '^ ; 

*  But  then  ^neas  bare  a  living  load, 

*  Nothing  so  heavy  as  these  woes  of  mine.     [Exit, 

Enter    Richard  Plantagenet  and  Somerset, 
fighting,  and  Somerset  is  killed. 

Rich.   So,  lie  thou  there  ; — 
'  For,  underneath  an  alehouse'  paltry  sign, 
The  Castle  in  Saint  Albans,  Somerset 


3  As  wild  Medea,  &c.]  When  Medea  fled  with  Jason  from 
Colchos,  she  murdered  her  brother  Absyrtus,  and  cut  his  body 
into  several  pieces,  that  her  father  might  be  prevented  for  some 
time  from  pursuing  her.     See  Ovid,  Trist.  Lib.  iii.  El.  9  : 

——  divellit,  divulsaque  membra  per  agros 

Dissipat,  in  multis  invenienda  locis  : — 
Ut  genitor  luctuque  novo  tardetur,  et  artus 

Dum  legit  extinctos,  triste  moretur  iter."     Malone. 

4  — my  manly  shoulders  ;]     The  quarto  copy  has  these  lines  : 

"  Even  so  will  I. — But  stay,  here's  one  of  them, 
"  To  whom  my  soul  hath  sworn  immortal  hate." 

Enter  Richard,  and  then  Clifford  lays  doxun  his  father,  Jights  xmth 
him,  and  Richard  flies  atxiay  again. 

"  Out,  crook -back'd  villain  !  get  thee  from  my  sight ! 

"  But  I  will  after  thee,  and  once  again 

"  (When  I  have  borne  my  father  to  his  tent) 

*'  I'll  try  my  fortune  better  with  thee  yet. 

"  [Exit  yoimg  Clifford  with  hisjather." 

Steevens. 
This  is  to  be  added  to  all  the  other  circumstances  which  have 
been  urged  to  show  that  the  quarto  play  was  the  production  of  an 
elder  writer  than  Shakspeare.    The  former's  description  of  iEneas 
is  different.     See  p.  351,  n.  2.     Malone. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2    A 


354  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

Hath  made  the  wizard  famous  in  his  death  ^. — 

*  Sword,  hold  thy  temper ;  heart,  be  wrathful  still : 

*  Priests  pray  for  enemies,  but  princes  kill.    \_Exut. 

Alarums:  Excursions.    Enter  King  Henry,  Qiieen 
Margaret,  and  others,  retreating. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Away,  my  lord  ^ !  you  are  slow  ;  for 
shame,  away ! 

^  So,  lie  thou  there  ;— 
For,  underneath  an  alehouse'  paltry  sign. 
The  Castle  in  Saint  Albans,   Somerset 

Hath  made  the  wizard  famous  in   his  death.]     The  particle 
Joj-  in  the  second  line  seems  to  be  used  without  any  very  apparent 
inference.     We  might  read  : 

"  Fall'n  underneath  an  alehouse'  paltry  sign,"  &c. 
Yet  the  alteration  is  not  necessary ;  for  the  old  reading  is  sense, 
though  obscure,     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  justly  observes  that  the  particle ybr  seems  to  be 
used  here  without  any  apparent  inference.  The  corresponding 
passage  in  the  old  play  induces  me  to  believe  that  a  line  has 
been  omitted,  perhaps  of  this  import : 

"  Behold,  the  prophecy  is  come  to  pass  ; 

"  For,  underneath ,"  &c. 

We  have  had  already  two  similar  omissions  in  this  play. 

Malone. 
Thus  the  passage  stands  in  the  quarto  : 

"  Rich.  So  lie  thou  there,  and  tumble  in  thy  blood! 
"  What's  here  ?  the  sign  of  the  Castle? 
"  Then  the  prophecy  is  come  to  pass  ; 
"  For  Somerset  was  forewarned  of  castles, 
"  Tlie  which  he  always  did  observe  ;  and  now, 
*'  Behold,  under  a  paltry  ale-house  sign, 
"  The  Castle  in  saint  Albans,  Somerset 
"  Hath  made  the  wizard  famous  by  his  death." 
I  suppose,  however,  that  the  third  line  was  originally  written  : 

"  Why,  then  the  prophecy  is  come  to  pass."     Steevens. 
The  death  of  Somerset  here  accomplishes  that  equivocal  pre- 
diction   given   by  Jourdain,    the   witch,   concerning  this  duke ; 
which  we  meet  with  at  the  close  of  the  first  Act  of  this  play  : 
"  Let  him  shun  castles  : 
"  Safer  shall  he  be  upon  the  sandy  plains, 
"  Than  where  castles,  mounted  stand." 
i.  e.  the  representation  of  a  castle,  mounted  for  a  sio;n. 

Theobald, 
^  Away,  my  lord  !]     Thus,  in  the  old  play  : 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  355 

*  K.  Hen.    Can  we  outrun  the  heavens  ?    good 

Margaret,  stay. 

*  Q.  Mar.   What  are  you  made  of  ?    you'll  not 

fight,  nor  riy : 

*  Now  is  it  manhood,  wisdom,  and  defence  \ 

*  To  give  the  enemy  way ;  and  to  secure  us 

*  By  what  we  can,  which  can  no  more  but  fly. 

\_Alarum  afar  off. 

*  If  you  be  ta'en,  we  then  should  see  the  bottom 

*  Of  all  our  fortunes  ^ :  but  if  we  haply  scape, 

*  (As  well  we  may,  if  not  through  your  neglect,) 

*  We  shall  to  London  get :  where  you  are  lov'd ; 

*  And   where   this  breach,   now   in   our   fortunes 

made, 

*  May  readily  be  stopp'd. 

"  Queen.  Away,  my  lord,  and  fly  to  London  straight ; 
*'  Make  haste,  for  vengeance  comes  along  with  them ; 
"  Come,  stand  not  to  expostulate  :  let's  go. 

"  King.  Come  then,  fair  queen,  to  London  let  us  haste, 
"  And  summon  a  parliament  with  speed, 
"  To  stop  the  fury  of  these  dire  events. 

"  \_ExeuNt  King  and  Qtieen." 
Previous  to  the  entry  of  the  King  and  Queen,  there  is  the  fol- 
lowing stage-direction : 

"  Alarums  again,  and  then  enter  three  or  four  hearing  the  DuJce 
of  Buckingham  wounded  to  his  tent.  Alarums  still,  and  then 
enter  the  king  and  queen."     Malone. 

7  Now  IS  IT  manhood,  w^isdom,  &c.]  This  passage  will  serve 
to  countenance  an  emendation  proposed  in  Macbeth.  See  vol.  xi. 
p.  219,  n.  5.     Steevens. 

^  If  you  be  ta'en,  we  then  should  seethe  bottom 
Of  all  our  fortunes  :]     Of  this  expression,  which  is  un- 
doubtedly Shakspeare's,  he  appears   to  have  been   fond.     So,  in 
King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  : 

"  . for  therein  should  we  read 

"  The  very  bottom  and  the  soul  of  hope, 
"  The  very  list,  the  very  utmost  bound 
"  Of  all  our  fortunes ." 
Again,  in  JRomeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  Which  sees  into  the  bottom  of  my  grief." 
Again,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 

"  To  look  into  the  bottom  of  my  place."     Malone. 
2a2 


356  SECOND  PART  OF  act  r. 

Enter  young  Clifford. 

*  Y.  Clip.  But  that  my  heart's  on  future  mis- 
chief set, 

*  I  would  speak  blasphemy  ere  bid  you  fly ; 

*  But  fly  you  must ;  uncurable  discomfit 

*  Reigns  in  the  hearts  of  all  our  present  parts  -. 

*  Awav,  for  vour  relief  I   and  we  will  live 

*  To  see  their  day,  and  them  our  fortune  give  : 

*  Away,  my  lord,  away  I  [Exeunt. 

9  —  all  our  present  parts.]     Should  we  not  read? — party. 

Tyrwhitt, 
The  text  is  undoubtedly  right.     So,  before: 
"  Throw  in  the  frozen  bosoms  of  owe  part 
"  Hot  coals  of  vengeance." 
I  have  met  with  pad  for  party  in  other  books  of  that  time. 
So,  in  the  Proclamation  for  the  apprehension  of  John  Cade, 
Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  6-i6,  edit.  1605  :   "  —  the  which  John  Cade 
also,  after  this,  was  sworne  to  the  Y x^ncYi  parts,  and  dwelled  with 
them,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  King  Henr)-  W.  fol.  101  :  "  — in 
conclusion  King  Edward  so  corageously  comforted  his  men,  re- 
freshing the  wear}-,  and  helping  the  wounded,  that  the  other  pai-t 
[i.  e.  the  adverse  army]  was  discomforted  and  overcome."  Ajjain, 
in  the  same  Chronicle,  Edward  W .  fol.  xxii. :  "  —  to  bee  pro- 
vided a  kxTige,  for  to  extinguish  both  the  faccions  and  partes 
[i.  e.  parties]  of  Kyng  Henry  the  VI.  and  of  Kyng  Edward  the 
fourth." 

Again,  in  Coriolanus  : 

" if  I  cannot  persuade  thee, 

"  Rather  to  show  a  noble  grace  to  both  pa)is, 
"  Than  seek  the  end  of  one — ." 
In  Plutarch  the  corresponding  passage  runs  thus  :   "  For  if  I 
cannot  persuade  thee  rather  to  do  good  unto  holh  parties,"  ^c. 

Maloxe. 
A  hundred  instances  might  be  brought  in  proof  that  part  and 
party  were  svronymously  used.  But  that  is  not  the  present  ques- 
tion. Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  ear  (like  every  otlier  accustomed  to  har- 
mony of  versification)  must  naturally  have  been  shocked  bv  the 
leonine  gingle  of  hearts  and  parts,  which  is  not  found  in  anv  one 
of  the  passages  produced  by  Mr.  Malone  in  defence  of  the  present 
reading.     Steevens. 


sc.  HI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  357 

SCENE  III. 

Fields  near  Saint  Albans. 

Alarum :  Retreat.  Flourish ;  then  enter  York, 
Richard  Plantagenet,  IKirwick,  and  Soldiers, 
with  Drum  and  Colours. 

*  York.    Of  Salisbury  \  who  can  report  of  him  ;    ' 

*  That  winter  lion,  who,  in  rage,  forgets 

*  Aged  contusions  and  all  brush  of  time  - ; 

*  And,  like  a  gallant  in  the  brow  of  youth  '\ 

^  Of  Sallsburv,  &c.]  The  corresponding  speeches  to  this  ajo 
the  following,  are  these,  in  the  original  play : 

"  York.  How  now,  boys  !  fortunate  this  fight  hath  been, 
"  I  hope,  to  us  and  ours,  for  England's  good, 
"  And  our  great  honour,  that  so  long  we  lost, 
"  Whilst  faint-heart  Henry  did  usurp  our  rights. 
*'  But  did  vou  see  old  Salisbury,  since  we 
"  \Vith  bloody  minds  did  buckle  with  the  foe? 
"  I  would  not  for  the  loss  of  this  right  hand 
"  That  ought  but  well  betide  that  good  old  man. 

"  Rich.'^ly  lord,  1  saw  him  in  the  thickest  throng, 
"  Charging  his  launce  with  his  old  weary  arms  ; 
"  And  thrice  I  saw  him  beaten  from  his  horse, 
"  And  thrice  this  hand  did  set  him  up  again  ; 
"  And  still  he  fought  with  courage  'gainst  his  foes  ; 
"  The  boldest-spirited  man  that  e'er  mine  eyes  beheld." 

Malone. 
^  —  BRUSH  of  time;]     Read  bruise  of  time.     \V.\rburtox. 
The  brush  of  time,  is  the  gradual  detrition  of  time.     The   old 
reading  I  suppose  to  be  the  true  one.     So,  in  Timon  : 

" one  winter's  brush — ."     Steevens. 

8  —  gallant  in  the  brow  of  youth,]  The  brow  of  youth  is  an 
expression  not  very  easily  explained.  I  read  the  bloiv  of  youth  ; 
the  blossom,  the  spring.     Johnson. 

The  bro-M  of  youth  is  the  height  of  youth,  as  the  broixi  of  a  hill  is 
its  summit.     So,  in  Othello  : 

" the  head  ^wAfront  of  my  offending." 

Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  Why  here  walk  I  in  the  black  brovi  of  night." 

Steevens. 


358  SECOND  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  Repairs  him  with  occasion  ?  this  happy  day 

*  Is  not  itself,  nor  have  we  won  one  foot, 

*  If  Salisbury  be  lost. 

*  Rich.  My  noble  father, 

*  Three  times  to-day  I  holp  him  to  his  horse, 

*  Three  times  bestrid  him  ^  thrice  I  led  him  off, 

*  Persuaded  him  from  any  further  act : 

*  But  still,  where  danger  was,  still  there  I  met  him ; 

*  And  like  rich  hangings  in  a  homely  house, 

*  So  was  his  will  in  his  old  feeble  body. 

*  But,  noble  as  he  is,  look  where  he  comes. 

Enter  Salisbury. 

*  Sal.  Now,  by  my  sword,  well  hast  thou  fought 

to-day  ^ ; 

*  By  the  mass,  so  did  we  all. — I  thank  you,  Richard  : 

*  God  knows,  how  long  it  is  I  have  to  live  ; 

*  And  it  hath  pleas'd  him,  that  three  times  to-day 

*  You  have  defended  me  from  imminent  death. — 

*  Well,    lords,  we  have  not  got   that   which  we 

have  ^ : 


4  Three  times  bestrid  him,]     That  is,  Three  times   I  saw  him 
fallen,  and,  striding  over  him,  defended  him  till  he  recovered. 

Johnson. 
See  vol.  xvi.  p.  3S6,  n.  9.  Of  this  act  of  friendship,  which 
Shakspeare  has  frequently  noticed  in  other  places,  no  mention  is 
made  in  the  old  play,  as  the  reader  may  find  in  the  preceding  page  ; 
and  its  introduction  here  is  one  of  the  numerous  minute  circum- 
stances, which  when  united  form  almost  a  decisive  proof  that  the 
piece  before  us  was  constructed  on  foundations  laid  by  a  preced- 
ing writer.     Malone. 

5  Well  hast  thou    fought,  &c.]     The  variation  between  this 
speech  and  that  in  the  original  play  deserves  to  be  noticed  : 

"  Sal.  Well  hast  thou  fought  this  day,  thou  valiant  duke  ; 
"  And  thou  brave  bud  of  York's  increasing  house, 
"  The  small  remainder  of  my  weary  life, 
"  I  hold  for  thee,  for  with  thv  warlike  arm 
"  Three  times  this  day  thou  hast  preserv'd  ray  life." 

Malone. 
^  Well,  lords,  we  have  not  got  that  which  we  have ;]     i.  e,  we 


sc.ni.  KING  HENRY  VI.  359 

*  'Tis  not  enough  our  foes  are  this  time  fled, 

*  Being  opposites  of  such  repairing  nature  \ 

*  York.  I  know,  our  safety  is  to  follow  them  ; 
'  For,  as  I  hear,  the  king  is  fled  to  London, 

*  To  call  a  present  court  of  parliament  ^. 

*  Let  us  pursue  him,  ere  the  writs  go  forth  : — 

*  What  says  lord  Warwick  ?  shall  we  after  them  ? 

TVyiR.  After  them  !  nay,  before  them,  if  we  can. 
Now  by  my  faith  ^,  lords,  'twas  a  glorious  day  : 
Saint  Albans'  battle,  won  by  famous  York, 
Shall  be  eterniz'd  in  all  age  to  come. — 
Sound,  drums  and  trumpets ; — and  to  London  all : 
And  more  such  days  as  these  to  us  befall ! 

\_Ei'eunt. 

have  not  secured,  we  are  not  sure  of  retaining,  that  which  we 
have  acquired.  In  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrece,  a  poem  very 
nearly  contemporary  with  the  present  piece,  we  meet  with  a  simi- 
lar expression  : 

"  That  oft  they  have  not  that  which  they  possess." 

Malone. 
'  Being  opposites  of  such  repairing  nature.]     Being  ene 
mies  that  are  likely  so  soon  to  rally  and  recover  themselves  from 
this  defeat. 

To  repair,  in  our  author's  language,  is,  to  renovate.  So,  in 
Cymbeline : 

"  O,  disloyal  thing  ! 
"  That  should'st  repair  my  youth — ." 
Again,  in  All's  Well  that  End's  We'll : 

" It  much  repairs  me, 

"  To  talk  of  your  good  father."  Malone. 
^  To  call  a  present  court  of  parliament.]  The  King  and  Queen 
left  the  stage  only  just  as  York  entered,  and  have  not  said  a  word 
about  calling  a  parliament.  Where  then  could  York  hear  this  ? 
—The  fact  is,  as  we  have  seen,  that  in  the  old  play  the  King  does 
say,  "  he  will  call  a  parliament,"  but  our  author  has  omitted  the 
lines.  He  has,  therefore,  here,  as  in  some  other  places,  fallen 
into  an  impropriety,  by  sometimes  following  and  at  others  desert- 
ing his  original.     Malone. 

^  Now  by  my  faith,]  The  first  folio  reads — "  Now  by  my 
hand."  This  undoubtedly  was  one  of  the  many  alterations  made 
by  the  editors  of  that  copy,  to  avoid  the  penalty  of  the  Stat. 
3  Jac.  I.  c.  21.  See  p.  333,  n.  9.  The  true  reading  I  have  re- 
stored from  the  old  play.    Malone. 


KING    HENRY    VI. 

PART  III. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


.i  HE  action  of  this  play  (which  was  at  first  printed  under  this 
title,  The  True  Tragedy  of  Richard  Duke  of  York,  and  the  good 
King  Henry  the  Sixth  ;  or,  The  Second  Part  of  the  Contention  of 
York  and  Lancaster,)  opens  just  after  the  first  battle  at  St.  Albans, 
[May  23,  1455,]  wherein  the  York  faction  carried  the  day;  and 
closes  with  the  murder  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  the  birth  of  Prince 
Edward,  afterwards  King  Edward  V.  [November  4,  1471.]  So 
that  this  history  takes  in  the  space  of  full  sixteen  years. 

Theobald. 

I  have  never  seen  the  quarto  copy  of  the  Second  Part  of  The 
Whole  Contention,  &c.  printed  by  Valentine  Simmes  for  Thomas 
Millington,  1600;  but  the  copy  printed  by  W.  W.  for  Thomas 
Millington,  1600,  is  now  before  me  ;  and  it  is  not  precisely  the 
same  with  that  described  by  Mr.  Pope  and  Mr.  Theobald,  nor 
does  the  undated  edition  (jjrinted  in  fact,  in  1619,)  correspond 
with  their  description.  The  title  of  the  piece  printed  in  1600,  by 
W.  W.  is  as  follows  :  "  The  True  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of 
Yorke,  and  the  Death  of  good  King  Henrie  the  Sixt :  With  the 
whole  Contention  between  the  Two  Houses  Lancaster  and  Yorke: 
as  it  was  sundry  Times  acted  by  the  Right  Honourable  the  Earle 
of  Pembrooke  his  Servants.  Printed  at  London  by  W.  W.  for 
Thomas  Millington,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  Shoppe  under  St. 
Peter's  Church  in  Cornewall,  1600,"  There  was,  however,  an 
earlier  edition  in  1595.  See  it  more  particularly  described  in  the 
list  of  quartos,  vol.  ii.  On  this  piece  Shakspeare,  as  I  conceive, 
in  1591  formed  the  drama  before  us.  See  p.  3  of  this  volume, 
and  the  Essay  at  the  end  of  this  play.     Malone. 

The  present  historical   drama   was    altered    by   Crowne,  and 
brought  on  the  stage  in  the  year  1680,  under  the   title  of  The 
Miseries  of  Civil  War.     Surely  the  works  of  Shakspeare  could 
have  been  little  read  at  that  period ;  for  Crowne,  in  his  Prologue, 
declares  the  play  to  be  entirely  his  own  composition  : 
"  For  by  his  feeble  skill  'tis  built  alone, 
"  The  divine  Shakspeare  did  not  laij  one  stone." 
whereas  the  very  first  scene  is  that  of  Jack  Cade  copied  almost 
verbatim  from  The  Second   Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  several 
Others  from  this  third  Part,  with  as  little  variation.     Steeveng. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


party. 


King  Henry  the  Sixth  : 

Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  his  Son. 

Lewis  XL  King  of  France. 

Duke  of  Somerset.     Duke  of  "i 

Exeter.     Earl  of  Oxford.  |    t      i         j^ 
Earl  of  Northumberland.  [>„   ^"^  ?^  .^^* 
Earl      of     Westmoreland.  |  "^^i^^^ « side. 
Lord  Clifford.  J 

Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York  : 

Edward,    Earl   of   March,    afterwards  ^ 
King  Edward  IV.  |     , . 

Edmund,  Earl  of  Rutland,  re 

George,  afterwards  Duke  of  Clarence,  |  ^°"^- 

Richard,  afterwards  Duke  of  Glocester,  J 

Duke  of  Norfolk,  ^ 

Marquis  of  Montague,  | 

Earl  of  Warwick,  [  of  the  Duke  of  York's 

Earl  of  Pembroke, 

Lord  Hastings, 

Lord  Stafford, 

Sir  John  Mortimer,    )  Uncles  to  the  Duke  of 

Sir  Hugh  Mortimer,  j      York. 

Henry,  Earl  of  Richmond,  a  Youth. 

Lord  Rivers,  Brother  to  Lady  Grey.  Sir  Wil- 
liam Stanley.  Sir  John  Montgomery.  Sir 
JohnSomerville.  Tutor  to  Rutland.  Mayor 
of  York.  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower.  A  Noble- 
man. Two  Keepers.  A  Huntsman.  A  Son  that 
has  killed  his  Father.  A  Father  that  has  killed 
his  Son. 

Queen  Margaret. 

Lady  Grey,  afterwards  Queen  to  Edward  IV. 

Bona,  Sister  to  the  French  Queen. 

Soldiers,  and  other  Attendants  on  King  Henry  and 
King  Edward,  Messengers,  Watchmen,  &c. 

SCENE,  during  part  of  the  third  Act,  in  France ; 
during  all  the  rest  of  the  Play,  in  England. 


THIRD  PART  OF 

KING    HENRY    VF. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 

London.     The  Parliament- House. 

Drums.     Some  Soldiers  of  Yorks  party  break  in. 
Then,    Enter    the    Duke   of    York,    Edtfard, 
Richard,  Norfolk,  Montague,    Wartfick,  and 
Others,  with  white  Roses  in  their  Hats. 
War.  I  wonder  how  the  king  escaped  our  hands. 
York.  While  we  pursued  the  horsemen  of  the 
north, 
He  slily  stole  away,  and  left  his  men : 
Whereat  the  great  lord  of  Northumberland, 
Whose  warlike  ears  could  never  brook  retreat, 

*  Cheer'd  up  the  drooping  army  ;  and  himself, 

*  Lord  Clifford,  and  lord  Stafford,  all  a-breast, 

*  Charg'd  our  main  battle's  front,  and,  breaking  in, 

*  Were  by  the  swords  of  common  soldiers  slain  '^. 

I  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.]  This  play  is  only  divided 
from  the  former  for  the  convenience  of  exhibition  ;  for  the  series 
of  action  is  continued  without  interruption,  nor  are  any  two  scenes 
of  any  play  more  closely  connected  than  the  first  scene  of  this 
play  with  the  last  of  the  former.     Johnson. 

^  Were  by  the  swords  of  common  soldiers  slain.]  See  the  Se- 
cond Part  of  this  Play,  p.  350,  n,  1.     Reed. 

This  is  an  inadvertency  in  our  author.  The  elder  Clifford  was 
slain  by  York,  and  his  son  lives  to  revenge  his  death. 

M.  Mason. 

Dr.  Percy,  in  a  note  on  the  preceding  play,  has  pointed  out  the 
inconsistency  between  this  account,  and  the  representation  there, 
Clifford  being  killed  on  the  stage  by  the  Dake  of  York,  the 
present  speaker.     Shakspeare  was  led  into  this  inconsistency  by 


366  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

Eorr.  Lord  Stafford's  father,  duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, 

*  Is  either  slain,  or  wounded  dangerous : 
I  cleft  his  beaver  with  a  downright  blow ; 

*  That  this  is  true,  father,  behold  his  blood. 

[Showing  his  bloody  Sword. 
Mont.  And,  brother,  here's  the  earl  of  Wiltshire's 
blood,  [To  York,  showing  his. 

Whom  I  encountered  as  the  battles  join'd. 

Rich.  Speak  thou  for  me,  and  tell  them  what  I 
did^ 

[Thi^ozving  down  the  Duke  of  Somersets 
Head. 
*  York.  Richard  hath  best  deserv'd  of  all  my 
sons. — 
What,  is  your  grace  '*  dead,  my  lord  of  Somerset  ? 


the  author  of  the  original  plays  :  if  indeed  there  was  but  one  au- 
thor, for  this  circumstance  might  lead  us  to  suspect  that  i\\e first 
and  second  part  of  The  Contention,  &c.  were  not  written  by  the 
same  hand. — However,  this  is  not  decisive;  for  the  author,  who- 
ever he  was,  might  have  been  inadvertent,  as  we  find  Shakspeare 
undoubtedly  was.     Malone. 

3  Rich.  Speak  thou  for  me,  and  tell  them  what  i  did.]  Here, 
as  Mr.  Elderton  of  Salisbury  has  observed  to  me,  is  a  gross  ana- 
chronism. At  the  time  of  the  first  battle  of  Saint  Albans,  at 
which  Richard  is  represented  in  the  last  scene  of  the  preceding 
play  to  have  fought,  he  was,  according  to  that  gentleman's  cal- 
culation, not  one  year  old,  having  (as  he  conceives,)  been  born 
at  Fotheringay  Castle,  October  21,  1454-.  At  the  time  to  which 
the  third  scene  of  the  first  Act  of  this  play  is  referred,  he  was, 
according  to  the  same  gentleman's  computation,  but  six  years  old  ; 
and  in  the  fifth  Act,  in  which  Henry  is  represented  as  having 
been  killed  by  him  in  the  Tower,  not  more  than  sixteen  and  eight 
months. 

For  this  anachronism  the  author  or  authors  of  the  old  plays  on 
which  our  poet  founded  these  two  parts  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth, 
are  answerable.     Malone. 

4  What,  is  your  grace  — ]  The  folio  reads — But  is  your  grace, 
&c.  It  was  evidently  a  mistake  of  the  transcriber,  the  word  in 
the  old  play  being  "what,  which  suits  sufficiently  with  York's  ex- 
ultation ;  whereas  but  affords  no  sense  whatsoever.     Malone. 


sc,  J.  KING  HENRY  VI.  367 

NoEF.  Such  hope  have  all  the  line  of  John  of 
Gaunt ! 

Rich.  Thus  do  I  hope  to  shake  king  Henry's 
head. 

fV^R.  And  so  do  I. — Victorious  prince  of  York, 
Before  I  see  thee  seated  in  that  throne 
Which  now  the  house  of  Lancaster  usurps 
I  vow  by  heaven  these  eyes  shall  never  close: 
This  is  the  palace  of  the  fearful  king, 
'  And  this  the  regal  seat :  possess  it,  York : 
For  this  is  thine,  and  not  king  Henry's  heirs'. 

York.  Assist  me  then,  sweet  Warwick,  and  I  will ; 

*  For  hither  we  have  broken  in  by  force. 

NoRF.  We'll  all  assist  you;  he,  that  flies,  shall 

die. 
York.  Thanks,  gentle  Norfolk, — Stay  by  me,  my 

lords;— 

*  And,  soldiers,  stay,  and  lodge  by  me  this  night. 

'  IV^R.  And,  when  the  king  comes,  offer  him  no 
violence, 

*  Unless  he  seek  to  thrust  you  out  by  force. 

[They  retire. 
*  York.  The  queen,  this  day,  here  holds  her  par- 
liament, 

*  But  httle  thinks  we  shall  be  of  her  council: 

*  By  words  or  blows  here  let  us  win  our  right. 
Rich.   Arm'd  as  we  are,  let's  stay  within  this 

house. 
TK^R.  The  bloody  parliament  shall  this  be  call'd, 
Unless  Plantagenet,  duke  of  York,  be  king  ; 
And  bashful  Henry  depos'd,  whose  cowardice 

Though  the  sense  and  verse  is  complete  without  either  but  or 
XKihat,  I  suppose  we  ought  to  read  : 

"  What,  's  your  grace  dead,  my  lord  of  Somerset  ?  " 

1  do  not,  however,  perceive  the  inefficiency  of — but.  This  con- 
junction is  sometimes  indeterminately  used;  and  is  also  insultingly 
employed  in  Twelfth-Night :  "  But,  are  you  not  mad  indeed,  or 
do  vou  but  counterfeit  ?  "     Steevens. 


368  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

Hath  made  us  by-words  to  our  enemies. 

*  York.  Then  leave  me  not,  my  lords ;  be  reso- 
lute; 
I  mean  to  take  possession  of  my  right. 

J'Var.  Neither  the  king,  nor  he  that  loves  him 
best, 

*  The  proudest  he  \  that  holds  up  Lancaster, 
Dares  stir  a  wing,  if  Warwick  shake  his  bells  ^. 

*  I'll  plant  Plantagenet,  root  him  up  who  dares  : — 
Resolve  thee,  Richard;  claim  the  Enghsh  crown. 

[IVartfick  leads  York  to  the  Throne^  who 
seats  himself. 

Flourish.      Enter   King  Hbnry,   Clifford,   Nor- 

THUMBERLAND,      WESTMORELAND,      ExETER,      Uud 

Others,  with  red  Roses  in  their  Hats. 

K.  Hen.  My  lords,  look  where  the  sturdy  rebel 
sits, 
Even  in  the  chair  of  state  !  belike,  he  means, 
(Back'd  by  the  power  of  Warwick,  that  false  peer,) 
To  aspire  unto  the  crown,  and  reign  as  king. — 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  he  slew  thy  father  ; — 
And  thine,  lord  Clifford ;  and  you  both  have  vow'd 

revenge 
On  him,  his  sons,  his  favourites,  and  his  friends. 
'  North.  If  I  be  not,  heavens,  be  reveng'd  on  me  ! 
Clip.  The  hope  thereof  makes  Clifford  mourn  in 

steel. 
West.  What,   shall  we  suffer  this  ?  let's  pluck 
him  down : 

*  My  heart  for  anger  burns  \,  I  cannot  brook  it. 

K.  Hen.  Be  patient,  gentle  earl  of  Westmore- 
land. 

t  Quarto,  bird.  X  Quarto,  breaks. 

5  — if  Warwick  shake  his  bells.]  The  allusion  is  to  falconiy. 
The  hawks  had  sometimes  little  bells  hung  upon  them,  perhaps 
to  dare  the  birds  ;  that  is,  to  fright  them  from  rising.     Johnson. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  369 

Clif.  Patience  is  for  poltroons,  such  as  he  ^ ; 
He  durst  not  sit  there  had  your  father  Hv'd. 
My  gracious  lord,  here  in  the  parliament 
Let  us  assail  the  family  of  York. 

North.  Well  hast  thou  spoken,  cousin ;  be  it  so. 

K.  Hen.  Ah,  know  you  not,  the  city   favours 

them. 

And  they  have  troops  of  soldiers  at  their  beck  ? 

ExE.  But  when  the  duke  is  slain,  they'll  quickly 
fly  7. 

K.  Hen.  Far  be  the  thought  of  this  from  Henry '»* 
heart. 
To  make  a  shambles  of  the  parliament-house  ! 
Cousin  of  Exeter,  frowns,  words,  and  threats. 
Shall  be  the  war  that  Henry  means  to  use. 

[They  advance  to  the  Duke. 
Thou  factious  duke  of  York,  descend  my  throne. 
And  kneel  for  grace  and  mercy  at  my  feet ; 
I  am  thy  sovereign. 

York,  Thou  art  deceiv'd  ^,  I  am  thine. 

ExE.  For  shame,  come  down ;  he  made  thee  duke 

of  York. 
York.  'Twas  my  inheritance,  as  the  earldom  was''. 

^  —  AND  such  as  he  :]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The  first  folio 
and  the  quartos  omit — and.     Steevens. 

7  Exe.  But  when,  &c.]  Tliis  line  is  by  the  mistake  of  the 
compositor  given  to  Westmoreland.  The  king's  answer  shows 
that  it  belongs  to  Exeter,  to  whom  it  is  assigned  in  the  old  play. 

Malone. 

^  Thou  art  deceiv'd,]  These  words,  which  are  not  in  the  folio, 
were  restored  from  the  old  play.  The  defect  of  the  metre  in  the 
folio,  makes  it  probable  that  they  were  accidentally  omitted.  The 
measure  is,   however,  still  faulty.     Malone. 

9  —  as  the  EARLDOM  WAS.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto  1600, 
and  that  without  date,  read — as  the  kingdom  is.     Steevens. 

York  means,  I  suppose,  that  the  dukedom  of  York  was  his 
inheritance  from  his  father,  as  the  earldom  of  March  was  his  in- 
heritance from  his  mother,  Anne  Mortimer,  the  wife  of  the  Earl 
of  Cambridge ;  and  by  naming  the  earldom,  he  covertly  asserts 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  B 


370  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

ExE.  Thy  father  was  a  traitor  to  the  crown. 
If^R.  Exeter,  thou  art  a  traitor  to  the  crown, 
In  following  this  usurping  Henry. 

Clip.  Whom  should  he  follow,  but  his  natural 

king  ? 
Wah.  True,  Clifford ;  and  that's  Richard  ',  duke 

of  York. 

*  K.  Hen.  And  shall  I  stand,  and  thou  sit  in  my 

throne  ? 

*  York.  It  must  and  shall  be  so.  Content  thyself. 
War.  Be  duke  of  Lancaster,  let  him  be  king. 
West.  He  is  both  king  and  duke  of  Lancaster  ; 

And  that  the  lord  of  Westmoreland  shall  maintain. 
JPar.  And  Warwick  shall  disprove  it.  You  forget. 
That  we  are  those,  which  chas'd  you  from  the  field, 
And  slew  your  fathers,  and  with  colours  spread 
March'd  through  the  city  to  the  palace  gates. 

*  North.  Yes,  Warwick,  I   remember  it  to  my 

grief; 
And,  by  his  soul,  thou  and  thy  house  shall  rue  it. 

'  West.  Plantagenet,  of  thee,  and  these  thy  sons, 
Thy  kinsmen,  and  thy  friends,  I'll  have  more  lives. 
Than  drops  of  blood  were  in  my  father's  veins. 

*  Clif.  Urge  it  no  more;  lest  that,  instead  of 

words, 
I  send  thee,  Warwick,  such  a  messenger, 
As  thall  revenge  his  death,  before  I  stir. 

*  IPar.  Poor  Clifford !  how  I  scorn  his  worthless 

threats ! 


his  right  to  the  crown  ;  for  his  title  to  the  crown  was  not  as  Duke 
of  York,  but  Earl  of  March. 

In  the  original  play  the  line  stands  [is  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens]  ; 
and  why  Shakspeare  altered  it,  it  is  not  easy  to  say;  for  the  new 
line  only  exhibits  the  same  meaning  more  obscurely.     Malone, 

'  — AND  that's  Richard,]  The  word  nyid,  which  was  acci- 
dentally omitted  in  the  first  folio,  is  found  in  the  old  play. 

Malone. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  371 

York.  Will  you,  we  show  our  title  to  the  crown  ? 
*  If  not,  our  swords  shall  plead  it  in  the  field. 
K.  Hen.  What  title  hast  thou,  traitor,  to  the 
crown  ? 
Thy  father  was,  as  thou  art,  duke  of  York  ^ ; 
Thy  grandfather,  Roger  Mortimer,  earl  of  March  : 
I  am  the  son  of  Henry  the  fifth  '\ 
Who  made  the  Dauphin  and  the  French  to  stoop, 
And  seiz'd  upon  their  towns  and  provinces. 

JVar.  Talk  not  of  France,  sith  '^  thou  hast  lost  it 

all. 
K.  Hen.  The  lord  protector  lost  it,  and  not  I ; 
When  I  was  crown'd,  I  was  but  nine  months  old. 
Rich.  You  are  old  enough  now,  and  yet,  me- 
thinks,  you  lose  : — 
Father,  tear  the  crown  from  the  usurper's  head. 
Edtv.  Sweet  father,  do  so ;  set  it  on  your  head. 
Mont.  Good  brother,  \To  York7\  as  thou  lov'st 
and  honour'st  arms. 
Let's  fight  it  out,  and  not  stand  cavilling  thus. 
Rich.  Sound  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  king 

will  fly. 
York.  Sons,  peace ! 

K.  Hen.  Peace  thou !  and  give  king  Henry  leave 
to  speak. 

^  Thy  father  was,  as  thou  art,  duke  of  York  ;]  This  is  a  mis- 
take, into  which  Shakspeare  was  led  by  the  author  of  the  old  play. 
The  father  of  Richard  Duke  of  York  was  Earl  of  Cambridge, 
and  was  never  Duke  of  York,  being  beheaded  in  the  life-time  of 
his  elder  brother  Edward  Duke  of  York,  who  fell  in  the  battle  of 
Agincourt.  The  folio,  by  an  evident  error  of  the  press,  reads — 
My  father.     The  true  reading  was  furnished  by  the  old  play. 

Malone. 

3  I  am  the  son  of  Henry  the  fifth,]  The  military  reputation  of 
Henry  the  Fifth  is  the  sole  support  of  his  son.  The  name  of 
Henry  the  Fifth  dispersed  the  followers  of  Cade.     Johnson. 

4  — sith — ]     i.  e.  since.     So,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 

"  Siih  'twas  my  fault  to  give  the  people  scope."    Steevens. 

2b  2 


372  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 

War.  Plantagenet  shall  speak  first:  hear  him, 
lords  ; 
And  be  you  silent  and  attentive  too, 
For  he,  that  interrupts  him,  shall  not  live. 

*  K.  Hen.  Think'st  thou,  that  I  vi^ill  leave  my 
kingly  throne  ^, 
Wherein  my  grandsire,  and  my  father,  sat  ? 
No :  first  shall  war  unpeople  this  my  realm ; 
'  Ay,  and  their  colours — often  borne  in  France  ; 
And  Xiovj  in  England,  to  our  heart's  great  sorrow, — 
Shall  be  my  winding  sheet  ^. — Why  faint  you,  lords  ? 
*  My  title's  good,  and  better  far  than  his. 

War.  Prove  it,  Henry,  and  thou  shalt  be  king^. 
K.  Hen.  Henry  the  fourth  by  conquest  got  the 

crown. 
York.  'Twas  by  rebellion  against  his  king. 
K.  Hen.  I    know  not  what  to  say ;  my  title's 
weak. 
Tell  me,  may  not  a  king  adopt  an  heir  ? 

5  Think'st  thou,  &c.]  The  old  play  here  exhibits  four  lines 
that  are  not  in  the  folio.  They  could  not  have  proceeded  from 
the  imagination  of  the  transcriber,  and  therefore  they  must  be 
added  to  the  many  other  circumstances  that  have  been  already 
urged,  to  show  that  these  plays  were  not  originally  the  production 
of  Shakspeare : 

"  Ah  Plantagenet,  why  seek'st  thou  to  depose  me? 
"  Are  we  not  both  Plantagenets  by  birth, 
"  And  from  two  brothers  lineally  descent  ? 
"  Suppose  by  right  and  equity  thou  be  king, 
"  Think'st  thou,"  &c.     Malone. 
^  Shall  be  my  winding-sheet.]     Perhaps  Mr.  Gray  had  this 
passage  in  his  mind,  when  he  wrote  : 

"  Weave  the  warp,  and  weave  the  woof, 
"  The  voinding-sheet  of  Edward's  race — ."     Steevens. 
7  But  prove  it,   Henry,   and  thou  shalt  be  king.]     Thus  the 
second  folio.  The  first  omits  the  necessary  word — hut.  Steevens. 
Henri/  is  frequently  used  by  Shakspeare  and  his  contemporaries 
as  a  word  of  three  syllables.     Malone. 

But  not  as  in  the  present  instance,  where  such  a  trisyllable  must 
prove  offensive  to  the  ear.     Steevens. 


sc.  1.  KING  HENRY  VI.  373 

York.  What  then  ? 

'  K.  Hen.  An  if  he  may,  then  am  I  lawful  king  : 
*  For  Richard,  in  the  view  of  many  lords, 
Resign'd  the  crown  to  Henry  the  fourth : 
Whose  heir  my  father  was,  and  I  am  his. 

York.  He  rose  against  him,  being  his  sovereign, 
And  made  him  to  resign  his  crown  perforce. 

War.  Suppose,  my  lords,  he  did  it  unconstrain'd. 
Think  you,  'twere  prejudicial  to  his  crown ^? 

ExE.  No ;  for  he  could  not  so  resign  his  crown. 
But  that  the  next  heir  should  succeed  and  reign. 

K.  Hen.  Art  thou  against  us,  duke  of  Exeter  ? 

ExE.  His  is  the  right,  and  therefore  pardon  me. 

*  York.  Why  whisper  you,  my  lords,  and  answer 

not  ? 
ExE.  My  conscience  tells  me  he  is  lawful  king. 
K.  Hen.  All  will  revolt  from  me,  and  turn  to 

him. 
North.  Plantagenet,  for  all  the  claim  thou  lay'st. 
Think  not,  that  Henry  shall  be  so  depos'd. 

*  War.  Depos'd  he  shall  be,  in  despite  of  all. 
North.  Thou  art  deceiv'd :  'tis  not  thy  southern 

power, 
'  Of  Essex,  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  nor  of  Kent,— 
Which  makes  thee  thus  presumptuous  and  proud, — 
Can  set  the  duke  up,  in  despite  of  me. 


^  Think  you,  'twere  prejudicial  to  his  ckown?]  The  phrase 
prejudicial  to  his  crown,  if  it  be  right,  must  mean,  detrimental  to 
the  general  rights  of  hereditary  royalty  ;  but  I  rather  think  that 
the  transcriber's  eye  caught  crown  from  the  line  below,  and 
that  we  should  read — prejudicial  to  his  son,  to  his  next  heir. 

Johnson. 

Dr.  Percy  observes  on  Dr.  Johnson's  note,  that  son  could  not 
have  been  the  right  word,  as  Richard  the  Second  had  no  issue  ; 
and  our  author  would  hardly  have  used  it  simply  for  heir  general. 
"  Prejudicial  to  the  crown/'  is  right,  i.  e.  to  the  prerogative  of  the 
crown.     Steevens. 


374  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  i. 

Clif.  King  Henry,  be  thy  title  right  or  wrong, 
Lord  Clifford  vows  to  fight  in  thy  defence  : 
May  that  ground  gape,  and  swallow  me  alive  ^, 

*  Where  I  shall  kneel  to  him  that  slew  my  father ! 

'  K.  Hen.  O  Clifford,  how  thy  words  revive  my 

heart ! 
York.  Henry  of  Lancaster,  resign  thy  crown  : 
What  mutter  you,  or  what  conspire  you,  lords  ? 

JVar.  Do  right  unto  this  princely  duke  of  York  ; 
Or  I  will  fill  the  house  with  armed  men. 
And,  o'er  the  chair  of  state,  where  now  he  sits. 
Write  up  his  title  with  usurping  blood. 

[He  stamps,  and  the  Soldiers  show  themselves. 
*  K.  Hen.  My  lord  of  Warwick,  hear   but  one 
word'. — 

*  Let  me,  for  this  my  Hfe-time,  reign  as  king. 

York.  Confirm  the  crown  to  me,   and  to  mine 
heirs, 
And  thou  shalt  reign  in  quiet  while  thou  liv'st. 

K.  Hen.  I  am  content :  Richard  Plantagenet, 
Enjoy  the  kingdom  after  my  decease^. 

Clip.  What  wrong  is  this  unto  the  prince  your 
son  ? 

9  May  that  ground  gape,  and  swallow  me  alive.]  So,  in 
Phaer's  translation  of  the  fourth  .-Eneid  : 

"  But  rather  would  I  wish  the  ground  to  gape  for  me  below." 

Steevens. 
»  —  HEAR  but  one  word  ;]     Hear  is   in  this  line,   as  in  some 
other  places,  used  as  a  dissyllable.      The   editor   of  the   third 
folio,  and  all  the  subsequent   editors,  read — hear  me  but   one 
word.     Malone. 

Since  the  third  folio  reads — hear  me  but  one  word,  which  im- 
proves both  the  language  and  the  metre,  why  should  it  not  be 
followed  ?     M.  Mason. 

^  lam  CONTENT,  &c.]  Instead  of  this  speech  the  old  play 
has  the  following  lines  : 

"  King.  Convey  the  soldiers  hence,  and  then  I  will. 
"  War.  Captaine,  conduct  them  into  Tuthilfields." 

Malone. 


sc.  I,  KING  HENRY  VI.  375 

I'F^R.  What  good  is  this  to  England,  and  himself? 
West.  Base,  fearful,  and  despairing  Henry ! 

*  Clif.  How  hast  thou  injur'd  both  thyself  and  us  ? 
West.  I  cannot  stay  to  hear  these  articles. 
North.  Nor  I. 

Clif.  Come,  cousin,  let  us  tell  the  queen  these 
news. 

*  West.  Farewell,  faint-hearted  and  degenerate 

king, 

*  In  whose  cold  blood  no  spark  of  honour  bides. 
North.  Be  thou  a  prey  unto  the  house  of  York, 

*  And  die  in  bands  for  this  unmanly  deed ! 

Clif.  In  dreadful  war  may'st  thou  be  overcome  ! 
Or  live  in  peace,  abandon'd,  and  despis'd  ! 

[E^'eunt  Northumberland^  Clifford, 
and  Westmoreland. 

*  War.  Turn  this  way,  Henry,  and  regard  them 

not. 
Exe.  They  seek  revenge  ^,  and  therefore  will  not 

yield. 
K.  Hen.  Ah,  Exeter  ! 

War.  Why  should  you  sigh,  my  lord  ? 

K.  Hen.  Not  for  myself,  lord  Warwick,  but  my 
son, 
Whom  I  unnaturally  shall  disinherit. 
But,  be  it  as  it  may : — I  here  entail 
'  The  crown  to  thee,  and  to  thine  heirs  for  ever ; 
Conditionally,  that  here  thou  take  an  oath 
To  cease  this  civil  war,  and,  whilst  I  live. 
To  honour  me  as  thy  king  and  sovereign  ; 

*  And  neither  *  by  treason,  nor  hostility. 


3  They  seek  revenge,]  They  go  away,  not  because  they  doubt 
the  justice  of  this  determination,  but  because  they  have  been 
conquered,  and  seek  to  be  revenged.  They  are  not  influenced 
by  principle,  but  passion.     Johnson, 

4  And  NEITHER — ]     Neither,  either,  tvhether,  brother,  rather. 


376  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 

*  To  seek  to  put  me  down,  and  reign  thyself. 
York.  This  oath  I  willingly  take,  and  will  per- 
form. [Coming  from  the  Thro}ie. 
War.  Long  live  king  Henry ! — Plantagenet,  em- 
brace him. 

*  K.  Hen.  And  long  live  thou,  and  these  thy  for- 

ward sons ! 
York.  Now  York  and  Lancaster  are  reconcil'd. 
ExE.  Accurs'd  be  he,  that  seeks  to  make  them 

foes !      [Senet.  The  Lords  come  forxvard. 

*  York.  Farewell,  my  gracious  lord  ;  I'll  to  my 

castle  ^. 
War.  And  I'll  keep  London,  with  my  soldiers. 
Norf.  And  I  to  Norfolk,  with  my  followers. 
Mont.  And  I  unto  the  sea,  from  whence  I  came. 
\_Ej:eunt  York,  and  his  Sons,  JVartfick,  Norfolk^ 
Montague,  Soldiers,  and  Attendants. 

*  K.  Hen.  And  I,  with  griefand  sorrow,  to  the  court. 

Enter  Queen  Margaret  and  the  Prmce  of  Wales. 

ExE.  Here  comes  the  queen,   whose  looks  be- 
wray ^  her  anger : 
I'll  steal  away. 

and  many  similar  words,  were  used  by  Shakspeare  as  monosylla- 
bles.    So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  : 

"  Either  death  or  you  I'll  find  immediately." 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  who  appears  to  have  been  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  our  author's  metre  and  phraseology,  not  knowing 
this,  omitted  the  word  and.     Malone. 

My  ignorance  must  be  content  to  accompany  that  of  the  editor 
of  the  second  folio  ;  for  how — either,  brother,  neither,  or  rather^ 
can  be  pronounced  as  monosyllables,  I  am  yet  to  learn. 

The  versification,  however,  in  this  and  the  preceding  play  is 
often  so  irregular,  that  I  leave  the  passage  before  us  at  it  stands 
in  the  first  folio.     Steevens. 

^  —  I'll  to  my  castle.]  Sandal  Castle  near  Wakefield,  in 
Yorkshire.     Malone. 

^  —  bewray — ]     i.  e.  betray,  discover.     So,  in  King  Lear : 
"  Mark  the  high  noises,  and  thyself  ieicr ay." 


sc.  1.  KING  HENRY  VI.  377 

K.  Hen.  Exeter,  so  will  I.  [Goi?ig. 

'  Q.  M^R.  Nay,  go  not  from  me,  I  will  follow 

thee. 
K.  Hen.    Be  patient,  gentle  queen,  and  I  will 

stay. 

*  Q.  M^R.  Who  can  be  patient  in  such  extremes  ? 

*  Ah,  wretched  man  !  'would  I  had  died  a  maid, 

*  And  never  seen  thee,  never  borne  thee  son, 

*  Seeing  thou  hast  prov'd  so  unnatural  a  father  ! 

*  Hath  he  deserv'd  to  lose  his  birthright  thus  ? 

*  Hadst  thou  but  lov'd  him  half  so  well  as  I ; 

*  Or  felt  that  pain  which  I  did  for  him  once ; 

*  Or  nourish'd  him,  as  I  did  with  my  blood  ; 

*  Thou  wouldst  have  left  thy  dearest  heart-blood 

there, 

*  Rather  than  have  made  ^  that  savage  duke  thine 

heir, 

*  And  disinherited  thine  only  son. 

*  Prince.  Father,  you  cannot  disinherit  me  : 

*  If  you  be  king,  why  should  not  I  succeed  ? 

*  K.  Hen.  Pardon  me,  Margaret ; — pardon  me, 

sweet  son  ; — 

*  The  earl  of  Warwick,  and  the  duke,  enforc'd  me. 

*  Q.  M^r.  Enforc'd  thee  !  art  thou  king,  and  wilt 

be  forc'd  ? 
I  shame  to  hear  thee  speak.     Ah,  timorous  wretch ! 
Thou  hast  undone  thyself,  thy  son,  and  me  ; 

*  And  given  unto  the  house  of  York  such  head, 

*  As  thou  shalt  reign  but  by  their  sufferance. 

*  To  entail  him  and  his  heirs  unto  the  crown. 


Again,  ibid. : 

"  He  did  heivray  his  practice."     Steevens. 
7  Rather  than  made— ]   Old  copy— "  Rather  than  Aave  made." 
The  compositor  inadvertently  repeated  the  woxA—have,  from  the 
preceding  line.     Steevens. 

Rather  is  here  used  as  a  monosyllable.     See  p.  375,  n.  4. 

Malone. 

6 


378  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

*  What  is  it,  but  to  make  thy  sepulchre  % 

*  And  creep  into  it  far  before  thy  time  ? 

*  Warwick  is  chancellor,  and  the  lord  of  Calais ; 
Stern  Faulconbridge  commands  the  narrow  seas  ^ ; 
The  duke  is  made  protector  of  the  realm  ; 

*  And  yet  shalt  thou  be  safe  ?  *  such  safety  finds 

*  The  trembling  lamb,  environed  with  wolves. 

*  Had  I  been  there,  which  am  a  silly  woman, 

*  The  soldiers  should  have  toss'd  me  on  their  pikes, 

*  Before  I  would  have  granted  to  that  act. 

*  But  thou  preferr'st  thy  life  before  thine  honour: 

*  And  seeing  thou  dost,  I  here  divorce  myself, 

8  What  is  it,  but  to  make  thy  sepulchre,]  The  Queen's  re- 
proach is  founded  on  a  position  long  received  among  politicians, 
that  the  loss  of  a  king's  power  is  soon  followed  by  loss  of  life. 

Johnson, 

9  Stern  Faulconbridge  commands  the  narrow  seas ;]  So,  in 
Marlowe's  Edward  II. : 

"  The  haughty  Dane  commands  the  narroxv  seas." 
This  may  be  too  slight  a  circumstance  to  prove  Marlowe  the 
author  of  The  Whole   Contention  :  it  is,  however,  in  other  re- 
spects, sufficiently  probable  that  he  had  some  hand  in  it. 

The  person  here  meant  was  Thomas  Nevil,  bastard  son  to  the 
lord  Faulconbridge,  "  a  man,  (says  Hall,)  of  no  lesse  corage  then 
audacitie,  who  for  his  euel  condicions  was  such  an  apte  person, 
that  a  more  meter  could  not  be  chosen  to  set  all  the  worlde  in  a 
broyle,  and  to  put  the  estate  of  the  real  me  on  an  yl  hazard."  He 
had  been  appointed  by  Warwick  vice-admiral  of  the  sea,  and  had 
in  charge  so  to  keep  the  passage  between  Dover  and  Calais,  that 
none  which  either  favoured  King  Henry  or  his  friends  should 
escape  untaken  or  undrowned  :  such  at  least  were  his  instructions, 
with  respect  to  the  friends  and  favourers  of  King  Edward,  after  the 
rupture  between  him  and  Warwick.  On  Warwick's  death, 
he  fell  into  poverty,  and  robbed,  both  by  sea  and  land,  as  well 
friends  as  enemies.  He  once  brought  his  ships  up  the  Thames, 
and  with  a  considerable  body  of  the  men  of  Kent  and  Essex, 
made  a  spirited  assault  on  the  city,  with  a  view  to  plunder  and 
pillage,  which  was  not  repelled  but  after  a  sharp  conflict  and  the 
loss  of  many  lives  ;  and,  had  it  happened  at  a  more  critical  period, 
might  have  been  attended  with  fatal  consequences  to  Edward. 
After  roving  on  the  sea  some  little  time  longer,  he  ventured  to 
land  at  Southampton,  where  he  was  taken  and  beheaded.  See 
Hall  and  Holinshed.     Ritson. 


sc.  J.  KING  HENRY  VI.  379 

*  Both  from  thy  table,  Henry,  and  thy  bed, 

*  Until  that  act  of  parHament  be  repeal'd, 

*  Whereby  my  son  is  disinherited  \ 

The  northern  lords  that  have  forsworn  thy  colours. 
Will  follow  mine,  if  once  they  see  them  spread  : 

*  And  spread  they  shall  be  ;  to  thy  foul  disgrace, 

*  And  utter  ruin  of  the  house  of  York. 

*  Thus  do  I  leave  thee  :— Come,  son,  let's  away ; 

*  Our  army's  ready  ;  come,  we'll  after  them. 

K.  Hen.  Stay,  gentle  Margaret,  and  hear  me 

speak. 
Q.  M^R.  Thou  hast  spoke  too  much  already  ;  get 

thee  gone. 
K.  Hen.  Gentle  son  Edward,  thou  wilt  stay  with 

me  ? 
Q.  M.JR.  Ay,  to  be  murder'd  by  his  enemies. 
Fringe.    When  I  return  with  victory  from  the 

field  \ 
I'll  see  your  grace :  till  then,  I'll  follow  her. 

Q.  Mjr.  Come,  son,  away ;  we  may  not  linger 

thus. 
[Exeunt  Queen  Margaret,  and  the  Prince. 
*  K.  Hen.  Poor  queen  !   how  love  to  me,  and  to 

her  son, 

*  Hath  made  her  break  out  into  terms  of  rage  ! 

*  Reveng'd  may  she  be  on  that  hateful  duke  ; 

*  Whose  haughty  spirit,  winged  with  desire, 

*  Will  cost  my  crown,  and,  like  an  empty  eagle  ^, 


'  Whereby  my  son  is  disinherited.]     The  corresponding  line  in 
the  old  play  is  this.     The  variation  is  remarkable  : 

"  Wherein  thou  yieldest  to  the  house  of  York." 

Malone. 

2  —  from  the  field,]     Folio — "  to  the  field."     The  true  read- 
ing is  found  in  the  old  play.     Malone. 

3  Whose  haughty  spirit,  winged  with  desire. 

Will  COST  my  crown,  and,  like  an  empty  eagle,  &c.]     Read 
coast,  i.  e.  hover  over  it.     Warburton. 

Dr  Warburton's  alteration  aims  at  a  distinction  without  a  dif- 

5 


380  THIRD  PART  OF  acti. 

*  Tire  on  the  flesh  of  me  *,  and  of  my  son  ! 

*  The  loss  of  those  three  lords  ^  torments  my  heart: 


ference,  both  cost  and  coast  being  ultimately  derivations  of  the 
same  original.     Henley. 

Tl  e  word  which  Dr.  Warburton  would  introduce,  has  been  sup- 
poseii  to  violate  the  metaphor ;  nor  indeed  is  to  coast  used  as  a 
term  of  falconry  in  any  of  the  books  professedly  written  on  that 
subject.  To  coast  is  a  sea-faring  expression,  and  means  to  keep 
along  shore.  We  may,  however,  maintain  the  integrity  of  the 
figure,  by  inserting  the  word  cote,  which  is  used  in  Hamlet,  and 
in  a  sense  convenient  enough  on  this  occasion  : 
"  We  coled  them  on  the  way." 
To  cote  is  to  come  up  tvith,  to  overtake,  to  reach.  So,  in  The 
Return  from  Parnassus,  a  comedy,  1606  : 

"  — —  marry,  we  presently  coted  and  outstript  them." 
Yet,  on  further  inquiry,  I  am  become  less  certain,  that  to  coast 
is  merely  a  sea-faring  expression.     It  is  used  in  the  following  in- 
stance to  denote  speed : 

"  And  all  in  haste  she  coasteth  to  the  cry." 

Shahspeare" s  Venus  and  Adonis. 
Again,  in  Tiie  Loyal  Subject,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 

"  Take  you  those  horse,  and  coast  them." 
Again,  in  The  Maid  of  the  Mill,  by  the  same  authors,  two  gen- 
tlemen are  entering,  and  a  lady  asks  : 

" who  are  those  that  const  us  ?  " 

Mr.  Toilet  therefore  observes,  that  Dr.  \V'arburton's  interpreta- 
tion may  be  right,  as  Holinshed  often  uses  the  verb  to  coast,  i.  e. 
to  hover,  or  range  about  any  thing.  So,  in  Chapman's  version  of 
the  fifth  Iliad : 

"  Atrides  yet  coasts  through  the  troops,  confirming  men  so 
stay'd." 
See  Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  p.  352  :  "  William  Douglas  still  coai^e^/ 
the  Englishmen,  doing  thera  what  damage  he  might."     So  again, 
p.  387,  and  404-,  and  in  other  writers.     Steevens. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  coast  is  the  true  reading.  To  coast  is  to 
keep  along  side  of  it,  and  ivaich  it.  In  King  Henry  VIII.  the 
Chamberlain  says  of  Wolsey  : 

"  — —  the  king  perceives  him  how  he  coasts 
"  And  hedges  his  own  way." 
And  in  the  last  Act  of  The  Loyal  Subject,  Archas  says  : 

" Lord  Barris, 

"  Take  you  those  horse,  and  coast  them."     M.  Mason. 
"  Will  cost  my  crown."     i.  e.  will  cost  me  my  crown  ;  will  in- 
duce on  me  the  expence  or  loss  of  my  crown.     Malone. 

Hud  this  been  our  author's  meaning,  he  would  have  otherwise 


sc.ii,  KING  HENRY  VI.  381 

*  I'll  write  unto  them,  and  entreat  them  fair  ; — 

*  Come,  cousin,  you  shall  be  the  messenger  ^. 

*  ExE.  And  I,  I  hope,  shall  reconcile  them  all. 

\_Ea:eunt. 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  Sandal  Castle,  near  Wakefield,  in 
Yorkshire. 

Enter  Edtfard,  Richard,  aiid  Montague. 

*  Rich.  Brother,  though  I  be  youngest,  give  me 

leave. 
Edw.  No,  I  can  better  play  the  orator. 
Mont.  But  I  have  reasons  strong  and  forcible. 

Enter  York. 

*  York.  Why,  how  now,  sons  and  brother  ^,  at  a 

strife  ? 

formed  his  verse,  and  written  "  cost  me  my  crown."     So,  in  King- 
Lear : 

"  The  dark  and  vicious  place  where  thee  he  got, 

"  Co5^ /<im  his  eyes."     Steevens. 

4  Tire  on  the  flesh  of  me,]     To  tire  is  to  Jasten,  to  Jix  the 
talons,  from  the  French  tirer.     Johnson, 

To  tire  is  to  peck.  So,  in  Decker's  Match  Me  in  London,  1631  : 
"  — —  the  vulture  tires 
"  Upon  the  eagle's  heart."     Steevens. 

5  — those  three  lords— ]     That  is,  of  Northumberland,  West- 
uoreland,  and  Clifford,  who  had  left  him  in  disgust.     Johnson, 

6  —  you  shall  be  the  messenger.]     Instead  of  the  six  last  lines 
of  this  speech,  the  first  copy  presents  these  : 

"  Come,  cousin  of  Exeter,  stay  thou  here, 

"  For  Clifford  and  those  northern  lords  be  gone, 

"  I  fear  towards  Wakefield,  to  disturb  the  duke." 

Malone. 
■'  —  sons,  and  brother,]     I  believe  we  should  read — cousin 
instead  of  brother,  unless  brother  be  used  by  Shakspeare  as  a  term 
expressive  of  endearment,   or  because  they  embarked,  like  bro- 
thers, in  one  cause,     Montague  was  only  cousin  to  York,  and  in 


382  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 

*  What  is  your  quarrel  ?  how  began  it  first  ? 

'  Edtf.  No  quarrel,  but  a  slight  contention^. 
.  York.  About  what  ? 

*  Rich.  About  that  which  concerns  your  grace, 

and  us ; 

*  The  crown  of  England,  father,  which  is  yours. 

*  York.  Mine,  boy  ?  not  till  king  Henry  be  dead. 

*  Rich.  Your  right  depends  not  on  his  life,  or 

death. 

*  Edw.  Now  you  are  heir,  therefore  enjoy  it  now : 

*  By  giving  the  house  of  Lancaster  leave  to  breathe, 

*  It  will  outrun  you,  father,  in  the  end. 


the  quarto  he  is  so  called.  Shakspeare  uses  the  expression,  bro- 
ther of  the  war,  in  King  Lear.     Steevens. 

It  should  be  sons  and  brothers ;  my  sons,  and  brothers  to  each 
other.     Johnson. 

Brother  is  right.  In  the  two  succeeding  pages  York  calls 
Montague  brother.  This  may  be  in  respect  to  their  being  h'o- 
thers  of  the  ivar,  as  Mr.  Steevens  observes,  or  of  the  same  council, 
as  in  King  Henry  VIII.  who  says  to  Cranmer :  "  You  are  brother 
of  us."  Montague  was  brother  to  Warwick  ;  Warwick's  daugh- 
ter was  married  to  a  son  of  York  :  therefore  York  and  Montague 
were  brothers.  But  as  this  alliance  did  not  take  place  during  the 
life  of  York,  I  embrace  Mr.  Steevens's  interpretation  rather  than 
suppose  that  Shakspeare  made  a  mistake  about  the  time  of  the 
marriage.     Tollet. 

The  third  folio  reads  as  Dr.  Johnson  advises.  But  as  York 
again  in  this  scene  addresses  Montague  by  the  title  of  brother, 
and  Montague  uses  the  same  to  York,  Dr.  Johnson's  conjecture 
cannot  be  right.  Shakspeare  certainly  supposed  them  to  be  bro- 
thers-in-law.    Malone. 

^  No  quarrel,  but  a  slight  contention.]  Thus  the  players, 
first,  in  their  edition ;  who  did  not  understand,  I  presume,  the 
force  of  the  epithet  in  the  old  quarto,  which  I  have  restored — 
sweet  contention,  i.  e.  the  argument  of  their  dispute  was  upon  a 
grateful  topick  ;  the  question  of  their  father's  immediate  right  to 
the  crown.     Theobald. 

Sweet  is,  I  think,  the  better  reading  of  the  two  ;  and  I  should 
certainly  have  received  it  had  it  been  found  in  the  folio,  which  Mr. 
Malone  supposes  to  be  the  copy  of  this  play,  as  reformed  by 
Shakspeare.     Steevens. 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  383 

*  York.  I  took  an  oath,  that  he  should  quietly 

reign. 

*  Edjv.  But,  for  a  kingdom,  any  oath  may  be 

broken : 

*  I'd  break  a  thousand  oaths,  to  reign  one  year. 

'  Rich.  No  ;  God  forbid,  your  grace  should  be 
forsworn  ^. 

*  York.  I  shall  be,  if  I  claim  by  open  war. 

*  Rich.  I'll  prove  the  contrary,  if  you'll  hear  me 

speak. 

*  York.  Thou  canst  not,  son ;  it  is  impossible. 

'  Rich.  An  oath  is  of  no  moment  \  being  not 
took 

*  Before  a  true  and  lawful  magistrate, 

*  That  hath  authority  over  him  that  swears  : 
'  Henry  had  none,  but  did  usurp  the  place  ; 

'  Then,  seeing  'twas  he  that  made  you  to  depose, 

*  Your  oath,  my  lord,  is  vain  and  frivolous. 

*  Therefore,  to  arms.     *  And,  father,  do  but  think, 

*  How  sweet  a  thing  it  is  to  wear  a  crown ; 

9  Rich.  No ;  God  forbid,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  and  the  three 
following  speeches,  the  old  play  has  these  lines  : 

"  Rich.  An  if  it  please  your  grace  to  give  me  leave, 
"  I'll  shew  your  grace  the  way  to  save  your  oath, 
"  And  dispossess  King  Henry  from  the  crown. 

"  York.  I  pr'ythee,  Dick,  let  me  hear  thy  devise." 

Malone. 
'  An  oath  is  of  no  moment,]  The  obligation  of  an  oath  is  here 
eluded  by  very  despicable  sophistry.  A  lawful  magistrate  alone 
has  the  power  to  exact  an  oath,  but  the  oath  derives  no  part  of  its 
force  from  the  magistrate.  The  plea  against  the  obligation  of  an 
oath  obliging  to  maintain  a  usurper,  taken  from  the  unlawfulness 
of  the  oath  itself  in  the  foregoing  play,  was  rational  and  just, 

Johnson. 
This  speech  is  formed  on  the  following  one  in  the  old  play : 
"  Rich.  Then  thus,  my  lord.     An  oath  is  of  no  moment, 
"  Being  not  sworn  before  a  lawful  magistrate  ; 
"  Henry  is  none,  but  doth  usurp  your  right ; 
"  And  yet  your  grace  stands  bound  to  him  by  oath  : 
"  Then,  noble  father, 
"  Resolve  yourself,  and  once  more  claim  the  crown." 

Malone. 


384  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i, 

*  Within  whose  circuit  is  Elysium, 

*  And  all  that  poets  feign  of  bliss  and  joy. 

*  Why  do  we  linger  thus  ?  I  cannot  rest, 

*  Until  the  white  rose,  that  I  wear,  be  dyed 

*  Even  in  the  lukewarm  blood  of  Henry's  heart. 

*  York.  Richard,  enough  ;    I    will  be   king,   or 
die. — 

*  Brother,  thou  shalt  to  London  presently  ", 

*  And  whet  on  Warwick  to  this  enterprise. — 

*  Thou,  Richard,  shalt  unto  the  duke  of  Norfolk, 

*  And  tell  him  privily  of  our  intent. — 

*  You,  Edward,  shall  unto  my  lord  Cobham, 
With  whom  the  Kentishmen  will  willingly  rise  : 
'  In  them  I  trust ;  for  they  are  soldiers, 

*  Witty  and  courteous,  liberal,  full  of  spirit^. — 


*  Brother,  thou  shalt  to  London  presently,]    Thus  the  original 
play: 

"  Edward,  thou  shalt  to  Edmond  Brooke,  lord  Cobham, 

"  With  whom  the  Kentishmen  will  willingly  rise. 

"  Thou,  cousin  Montague,  shalt  to  Norfolk  straight, 

"  And  bid  the  duke  to  muster  up  his  soldiers, 

"  And  come  to  me  to  Wakefield  presently. 

"  And  Richard,  thou  to  London  straight  shalt  post, 

"  And  bid  Richard  Nevil  Earl  of  M^arwick 

"  To  leave  the  city,  and  with  his  men  of  war 

"  To  meet  me  at  St.  Albans  ten  days  hence. 

"  My  self  here  in  Sandall  castle  will  provide 

"  Both  men  and  money,  to  further  our  attempts." 

Malone. 
3  Witty  and  courteous,  liberal,  full  of  spirit.]  What  a 
blessed  harmonious  line  have  the  editors  given  us !  and  what  a 
promising  epithet,  in  York's  behalf,  from  the  Kentishmen  being 
so  xvitty  I  I  cannot  be  so  partial,  however,  to  my  own  county,  as 
to  let  this  compliment  pass.     I  make  no  doubt  to  read  : 

" for  they  are  soldiers, 

"  Wealthy  and  courteous,  liberal,  full  of  spirit." 
Now  these  five  characteristicks  answer  to  Lord  Say's  descrip- 
tion of  them  in  the  preceding  play  : 

"  Kent,  in  the  commentaries  Ceesar  writ, 
"  Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  in  all  this  isle  ; 
"  The  people  liberal,  valiant,  active,  wealthy." 

Theobald. 


sen.  KING  HENRY  VI.  385 

*  While  you  are  thus  employ'd,  what  resteth  more, 

*  But  that  I  seek  occasion  how  to  rise  ; 

*  And  yet  the  king  not  privy  to  my  drift, 

*  Nor  any  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  ? 

Enter  a  Messenger  *. 

*  But,  stay  ;  What  news  ?  Why  com'st  thou  in  such 

post  ? 
'  Mess.  The  queen,  with  all  the   northern  earls 
and  lords  '\ 

This  is  a  conjecture  of  very  liUle  import.     Johnson. 

I  see  no  reason  for  adopting  Theobald's  emendation.  Witty 
anciently  signified,  of  sound  judgment.  The  poet  calls  Bucking- 
hvim,  "  the  deep  revolving,  voitti/  Buckingham."     Steevens. 

4  Enter  a  Messenger.']  Thus  the  quartos ;  the  folio  reads, — 
Enter  Gabriel.     Steevens. 

Gabriel  was  the  actor  who  played  this  inconsiderable  part.  He 
is  mentioned  by  Heywood,  in  his  Apology  for  Actors,  1612.  The 
correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald  from  the  old  play. 

Malone. 

5  The  queen,  with  all,  &c.]  I  know  not  whether  the  author 
intended  any  moral  instruction,  but  he  that  reads  this  has  a  strik- 
ing admonition  against  that  precipitancy  by  which  men  often  use 
unlawful  means  to  do  that  which  a  little  delay  would  put  honestly 
in  their  power.  Had  York  staid  but  a  few  moments,  he  had 
saved  his  cause  from  the  stain  of  perjury.     Johnson. 

It  will  be  no  more  than  justice  to  York,  if  we  recollect  that 
this  scene,  so  far  as  respects  the  oath,  and  his  resolution  to  break 
it,  proceeds  entirely  from  our  author's  imagination.  Neither  the 
Earl  of  March  nor  Richard  was  then  at  Sandal  ;  the  latter  being 
likewise  a  mere  child,  barely  turned  of  eight  years  old.  His  ap- 
pearance, therefore,  and  actions  in  this,  and,  at  least,  the  two 
first  Acts  of  the  following  play,  are  totally  unsupported  by  history 
and  truth. 

It  may  be  likewise  observed  that  the  Queen  was  not  actually 
present  at  this  battle,  not  returning  out  of  Scotland  till  some  little 
time  after.  This  insurrection,  which  the  Duke,  not  in  breach  of, 
but  in  strict  conformity  with  his  oath  to  the  King,  and  in  dis- 
charge of  his  duty  as  protector  of  the  realm,  had  marched  from 
London  to  suppress,  was  headed  by  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  the  Lord  Nevil,  who,  in  direct  vio- 
lation of  a  mutual  agreement,  and  before  the  day  prefixed  for  the 
battle,  fell  suddenly  upon  the  Duke's  army,  made  him  and  Saks- 
VOL.  xviii.  2  c 


386  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 


6 


*  Intend  here  to  besiege  you  in  your  castle  : 

*  She  is  hard  by  with  twenty  thousand  men 

*  And  therefore  fortify  your  hold,  my  lord. 

*  York.  Ay,  with  my  sword.     What!    think'st 
thou,  that  we  fear  them  ! — 

*  Edward  and  Richard,  you  shall  stay  with  me  ; — 

*  My  brother  Montague  shall  post  to  London  : 

*  Let  noble  Warwick,  Cobham,  and  the  rest, 

*  Whom  we  have  left  protectors  of  the  king, 

*  With  powerful  poHcy  strengthen  themselves, 

bury  prisoners,  and  treated  him  in  the  manner  here  described. 
See  Whethamstede.  Salisbury  was  next  day  killed  at  Pontefract 
by  a  bastard  son  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  beheaded,  with  York, 
Rutland,  and  others,  after  death.     W.  Wyrcester.     Ritson. 

In  October  1460,  when  it  was  established  in  parliament  that 
the  Duke  of  York  should  succeed  to  the  throne  after  Henry's 
death,  the  Duke  and  his  two  sons,  the  Earl  of  March,  and  the 
Earl  of  Rutland,  took  an  oath  to  do  no  act  whatsoever  that  might 
"  sound  to  the  abridgement  of  the  natural  life  of  King  Henry  the 
Sixth,  or  diminishing  of  his  reign  or  dignity  royal."  Having  per- 
suaded the  King  to  send  for  the  Queen  and  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
(who  were  then  in  York,)  and  finding  that  she  would  not  obey  his 
requisition,  he  on  the  second  of  December  set  out  for  his 
castle  in  Yorkshire,  with  such  military  power  as  he  had ;  a  mes- 
senger having  been  previously  dispatched  to  the  Earl  of  March, 
to  desire  him  to  follow  his  father  with  all  the  forces  he  could  pro- 
cure. The  Duke  arrived  at  Sandal  Castle  on  the  21<th  of  Decem- 
ber, and  in  a  short  time  his  army  amounted  to  five  thousand  men. 
An  anonymous  Remark er,  [the  author  of  the  preceding  note,] 
hovi'ever,  very  confidently  asserts,  that,  "  this  scene,  so  far  as  re- 
spects York's  oath  and  his  resolution  to  break  it,  proceeds  entirely 
from  the  author's  imagination."  His  oath  is  on  record  ;  and 
what  his  resolution  was  when  he  marched  from  London  at  the 
head  of  a  large  body  of  men,  and  sent  the  message  above  stated 
to  his  son,  it  is  not  very  difficult  to  conjecture.     Malone. 

^  —  with  twenty  thousand  men  ;]     In  the  quarto  this  speech 
stands  as  follows : 

"  My  lord,  the  queene  with  thirty  thousand  men 

"  Accompanied  with  the  earles  of  Cumberland, 

"  Northumberland,  and  Westmerland, 

"  With  others  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 

"  Are  marching  towards  Wakefield, 

"  To  besiedge  you  in  your  castle  heere."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  387 

*  And  trust  not  simple  Henry,  nor  his  oaths. 

*  Mont.  Brother,  I  go  ;  I'll  win  them,  fear  it  not: 

*  And  thus  most  humbly  I  do  take  my  leave. 

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; 
The  army  of  the  queen  mean  to  besiege  us. 

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  should  we  fear  ? 

\_A  March  afar  off. 
'  Edtf.  I  hear  their  drums ;  let's  set  our  men  in 
order ; 

*  And  issue  forth,  and  bid  them  battle  straight. 

*  York.  Five  men  to  twenty  ''  I — though  the  odds 

be  great, 

*  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  success  ? 

[Alarum.     E.veunt. 

7  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  success.     I  am  resolv'd. 
"  Come,  let  us  go, 

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

Malone. 


2  c  2 


388  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

SCENE  III. 

Plains  near  Sandal  Castle. 

Alarums:  Excursions.     Eyiter  Rutland,  and  his 

Tutor  \ 

*  Rut.    Ah,  whither  shall  I   fly  to  'scape  their 

hands ^! 
Ah,  tutor  I  look,  where  bloody  Clifford  comes ! 

Enter  Clifford,  and  Soldiers. 

Clip.  Chaplain,  away !  thy  priesthood  saves  thy 
life. 
As  for  the  brat  of  this  accursed  duke. 
Whose  father  ^  slew  my  father, — he  shall  die. 

Tut.  And  I,  my  lord,  will  bear  him  company. 

Clif.  Soldiers,  away  with  him. 

*  Tut.  Ah,  Clifford  !  murder   not  this  innocent 

child, 
'  Lest  thou  be  hated  both  of  God  and  man. 

\_Ejcit,  forced  off  by  Soldiers. 
Clif.  How  now !  is  he  dead  already  ?  Or,  is  it 
fear, 
That  makes  him  close  his  eyes^  ? — I'll  open  them. 

^  —  his  Tutor.]     A  priest  called   Sir  Robert  Aspall.   Hall, 
Henry  VI.  fol.  99.     Puts  on. 

9  Ah,  whither,  8cc.]     This  scene  in  the  old  play  opens  with 
these  lines : 

"  Tutor.  Oh,  fly,  my  lord,  let's  leave  the  castle, 
"  And  fly  to  Wake'field'straight."     Malone. 

*  Whose  father — ]    i.  e.  the  father  of  which  brat,  namely,  the 
Duke  of  York.     Malone. 

*  —  is  he  dead  already?  Or,  is  it  fear, 

That  makes  him  close  his  eyes  ?]  This  circumstance  is  taken 
from  Hall :  "  Whilst  this  battail  was  in  fighting,  a  prieste  called 
Sir  Robbert  Aspall,  chappelaine  and  schole- master  to  the  yong 
erle  of  Rutlande,  ii  sonne  to  the  above  named  duke  of  Yorke, 
scarce  of  the  age  of  xii  yeres,  a  faire  gentleman,  and  a  maydenlike 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY    VI.  389 

*  Rut.    So   looks   the   pent-up    lion  ^  o'er  the 

wretch  -f- 
*  That  trembles  under  his  devouring  paws'^: 
And  so  he  walks,  insulting  o'er  his  prey  ; 
'  And  so  he  comes  to  rend  his  limbs  asunder. — 
'  Ah,  gentle  Clifford,  kill  me  with  thy  sword. 
And  not  with  such  a  cruel  threat'ning  look. 
Sweet  Chfford,  hear  me  speak  before  I  die ; — 
I  am  too  mean  a  subject  for  thy  wrath. 
Be  thou  reveng'd  on  men,  and  let  me  hve. 

Clif.  In  vain  thou  speak'st,  poor  boy ;  my  father's 

blood 
Hath  stopp'd  the  passage  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, 
Were  not  revenge  sufficient  for  me ; 
No,  if  I  digg'd  up  thy  forefathers'  graves, 
And  hung  their  rotten  coffins  up  in  chains. 
It  could  not  slake  mine  ire,  nor  ease  my  heart. 
The  sight  of  any  of  the  house  of  York 

t   Quarto,  lamb. 

person,  perceyving  that  flight  was  more  safe-gard  than  tarrying, 
bothe  for  hym  and  his  master,  secretly  conveyd  therle  out  of  the 
felde,  by  the  lord  Cliffordes  bande,  toward  the  towne  ;  but  or  he 
could  entre  into  a  house,  he  was  by  the  sayd  Lord  Clifford  espied, 
folowed,  and  taken,  and  by  reson  of  his  apparell,  demaunded  what 
he  was.  The  yong  gentleman  dismayed,  had  not  a  word  to  speake, 
but  kneled  on  his  knees,  imploring  mercy,  and  desiring  grace, 
both  with  holding  up  his  handes,  and  making  dolorous  counte- 
nance, for  his  speache  ivas  gone  for  Jeare."     Malone. 

3  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  characterised  the  whole  animal,  is  oddly  be- 
stowed on  his  panos.     Steevens. 


390  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 

Is  as  a  fury  to  torment  my  soul  * ; 

*  And  till  I  root  out  their  accursed  line, 

'  And  leave  not  one  alive,  1  live  in  hell. 

Therefore —  \_Lij'ting  his  Hand. 

Rut.  O,  let  me  pray  before  I  take  my  death  : — 
To  thee  I  pray  ;  Svi^eet  Clifford,  pity  me  ! 

Clip.  Such  pity  as  my  rapier's  point  affords. 

*  Rut.  I   never  did  thee  harm ;  Why  wilt  thou 

slay  me  ? 
Clip.  Thy  father  hath. 

Rut.  But  'twas  ere  I  was  born  ^. 

Thou  hast  one  son,  for  his  sake  pity  me ; 
Lest,  in  revenge  thereof, — sith  ^  God  is  just, — 
He  be  as  miserably  slain  as  I, 
Ah,  let  me  live  in  prison  all  my  days ; 
And  when  I  give  occasion  of  offence. 
Then  let  me  die,  for  now  thou  hast  no  cause. 

Clip.  No  cause  ? 
Thy  father  slew  my  father  ;  therefore,  die. 

\Cljppord  stabs  him. 
Rut.  Diifaciant,  laudis  summa  sit  ista  tuce  ^ ! 

[Dies. 

^  The  sight  of  any  of  the  house  of  York 
Is  as  a  fury,  &c.]     In  Romeo  and  Juliet  the  same  idea  is  ex- 
pressed in  humbler  language  :   "  A  dog  of  the  house  of  Montague 
moves  me."     Steevens. 

^  But  'twas  ere  I  was  born.]  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  l^^S; 
and  Clifford's  father  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  St.  Albans,  in 
14-55.  Consequently  Rutland  was  then  at  least  seven  years  old  ; 
more  probably  twelve.  The  same  observation  has  been  made  by 
an  anonymous  writer  [Mr.  Ritson].      Malone. 

Rutland  is  under  a  mistake.  The  battle  of  St.  Albans,  in  which 
old  Clifford  was  slain,  happened  in  14'55  ;  that  of  Wakefield  in 
1460.  He  appears  to  have  been  at  this  time  about  seventeen 
years  old.     Ritson. 

7  —  sith — ]    i.  e.  since.  So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  : 
"  —  sith  you   yourself  know  how  easy  it  is  to  be  such   an 
offender."     Steevens. 

*  Diifaciant,  &c.]     This  line  is  in  Ovid's  Epistle  from  Phillis 


sc.  IV.  KING  HENRY  VI.  391 

Clif.  Plantagenet !  I  come,  Plantagenet ! 
And  this  thy  son's  blood  cleaving  to  my  blade, 
Shall  rust  upon  my  weapon,  till  thy  blood, 
Congeal'd  with  this,  do  make  me  wipe  off  both. 

\Exit. 

SCENE  IV. 
The  Same. 

Alarum.     Enter  York. 

^  York.  The  army  of  the  queen  hath  got  the 
field: 

*  My  uncles  both  are  slain  in  rescuing  me  ^ ; 

*  And  all  my  followers  to  the  eager  foe 

*  Turn  back,  and  fly,  like  ships  before  the  wind, 

*  Or  lambs  pursu'd  by  hunger-starved  wolves. 

*  My  sons — God  knows,    what   hath    bechanced 

them  : 
But  this  I  know, — they  have  demean'd  themselves 
Like  men  born  to  renown,  by  life,  or  death. 

*  Three  times  did  Richard  make  a  lane  to  me  ; 
And  thrice  cried, — Courage,  father  !  Jight  it  out ! 
'  And  full  as  oft  came  Edward  to  my  side, 
With  purple  faulchion,  painted  to  the  hilt 

*  In  blood  of  those  ^  that  had  encounter'd  him  : 

*  And  when  the  hardiest  warriors  did  retire, 

*  Richard   cried, — Charge  !    and  give  no  foot  of 

ground  ! 

to  Demophoon.     I  find  the  same  quotation  in  Have  With  You  to 
Saffron  Walden,  or  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  Is  Up,  &c.  1596. 

Steevens, 
9  My  uncles  both  are  slain  in  rescuing  me  ;]     These  were  two 
bastard  uncles  by  the  mother's  side,  Sir  John  and  Sir  Hugh  Mor- 
timer.    See  Grafton's  Chronicle,  p.  SiQ.     Percy. 
*  With  purple  faulchion,  painted  to  the  hilt 
In  blood  of  THOSE  — ]     So,  in  King  Henry  V.  : 
"  With  pennons  painted  in  the  blood  of  Harfleur." 

Steevens. 


392  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j. 

*  And  cried, — Acroivn,  or  else  a  glorious  tomb ! 
'  A  sceptre^  or  an  earthly  sepulclire  ! 

With  this,  we  charg'd  again  :  but,  out,  alas ! 

*  We  bodg'd  again  * ;  as  I  have  seen  a  swan 

'  With  bootless  labour  swim  against  the  tide, 

*  And  spend  her  strength  with  over-matching  waves. 

[A  short  Alarum  zvithin. 

*  Ah,  hark  !  the  fatal  followers  do  pursue  ; 

*  And  I  am  faint,  and  cannot  fly  their  fury  : 

'  And,  were  I  strong,  I  would  not  shun  their  fury : 

*  The  sands  are  number'd,  that  make  up  my  life  ; 

*  Here  must  I  stay,  and  here  my  life  must  end. 

Enter  Queen  Margaret,  Clifford,  Northumber- 
land, and  Soldiers. 

*  Come,  bloody  Clifford, — rough  Northumberland, — 

*  I  dare  your  quenchless  fury  to  more  rage  ; 

*  I  am  your  butt,  and  1  abide  your  shot. 

North.  Yield  to  our  mercy,  proud  Plantagenet. 

Clif.  Ay,  to  such  mercy,  as  his  ruthless  arm, 
With  downright  payment,  show'd  unto  my  father. 
Now  Phaeton  hath  tumbled  from  his  car. 
And  made  an  evening  at  the  noontide  prick '^. 

*  We  bodg'd  again  ;]  I  find  hodgery  used  by  Nashe  in  his 
Apologie  of  Pierce  Penniless,  1593,  for  hotelier y  :  "  Do  you  know 
your  own  misbegotten  bodgery?"  To  bodge  might  therefore 
mean,  (as  to  botch  does  now)  to  do  a  thing  imperfectly  and  auk- 
wardly ;  and  thence  to  Jail  or  miscarry  in  an  attempt.  Cole,  in 
his  Latin  Dictionary,  1679,  renders — "  To  botch  or  bungle, 
ojius  corrumpcre,  disj)erdcre!' 

I  suspect,  however,  with  Dr.  Johnson,  that  we  should  read — 
We  biidgd  again.  "  To  budge  "  Cole  renders,  pedem  referre,  to 
retreat :  the  precise  sense  required  here.  So,  Coriolanus,  speak- 
ing of  his  army  who  had^ec?  from  their  adversaries  : 

"  The  mouse  ne'er  shunn'd  the  cat,  as  they  did  budge 
"  From  rascals  worse  than  they."     Malone. 

I  believe  that — ive  bodg'd  only  means,  "  we  boggled,  made  bad 
or  bungling  work  of  our  attempt  to  rally."  A  low  unskilful 
tailor  is  often  called  a  botcher.     Steevens. 

3  • —  noontide  prick.]  Or,  noontide  point  on  the  dial,  Johnson. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  393 

York.  My  ashes  as  the  phoenix,  may  bring  forth 

*  A  bird  that  will  revenge  upon  you  all : 

*  And,  in  that  hope,  I  throw  mine  eyes  to  heaven. 
Scorning  whatever  you  can  afflict  me  with. 

*  Why  come  you  not  ?  what !  multitudes,  and  fear  ? 

Clip.  So  cowards  fight  when  they  can  fly  no 
further; 

*  So  doves  do  peck  the  falcon's  piercing  talons ; 
So  desperate  thieves,  all  hopeless  of  their  lives. 
Breathe  out  invectives  'gainst  the  officers. 

York.  O,  Clifford,  but  bethink  thee  once  again, 
'  And  in  thy  thought  o'er-run  my  former  time : 

*  And,  if  thou  can'st  for  blushing,  view  this  face; 
And  bite  thy  tongue,  that  slanders  him  with  cow- 
ardice, 

*  Whose  frown  hath  made  thee  faint  and  fly  ere  this. 

Clif.   I  will  not  bandy  with  thee  word  for  word; 
But  buckle  with  thee  blows,  twice  two  for  one. 

\Draws. 
Q.  Mar.  Hold,  valiant   CHfford !  for  a  thousand 
causes, 
I  would  prolong  awhile  the  traitor's  life : — 
Wrath  makes  him  deaf:  speak  thou,  Northumber- 
land. 
North.  Hold,  Clifford ;  do  not  honour  him  so  much 
To  prick  thy  finger,  though  to  wound  his  heart : 
What  valour  were  it, when  a  cur  doth  grin. 
For  one  to  thrust  his  hand  between  his  teeth, 
When  he  might  spurn  him  with  his  foot  away  ? 
It  is  war's  prize  *  to  take  all  vantages ; 

The  same  phrase  occurs  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  II.  Sc.  IV. 

Steevens. 
''  It  is  war's  PRIZE — ]     Read — praise.     Warburton. 
I  think  the  old  reading  right,  which  means,   that  all   'vantages 
are  in  war  lawful  prize  ;  that  is,  may  be  lawfully  taken  and  used. 

Johnson. 
To  take  all  advantages,  is  rather  to  the  discredit  than   to  the 
praise  of  war,  and  therefore  Warburton's  amendment  cannot  be 


394  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  i. 

*  And  ten  to  one  is  no  impeach  of  valour. 

[They  lay  hands  on  York,  who  struggles. 
Clip.  Ay,  ay,  so  strives  the  woodcock  with  the 

gin. 
North.  So  doth  the  coney  struggle  in  the  net. 

[York  is  taken  prisoner. 
York.  So  triumph  thieves  upon  their  conquer'd 
booty ; 
So  true  men  yield  ^  with  robbers  so  o'er-match'd. 
North.  What  would  your  grace  have  done  unto 

him  now  ? 
Q.  M^R.  Brave  warriors,  Clifford  and  Northum- 
berland, 
Come  make  him  stand  upon  this  molehill  here  ; 

*  That   raught  ^   at   mountains   with   outstretched 

arms. 
Yet  parted  but  the  shadow  with  his  hand. — 

*  What !  was  it  you,  that  would  be  England's  king  ? 
Was't  you  that  revell'd  in  our  parliament. 

And  made  a  preachment  of  your  high  descent  ? 
Where  are  your  mess  of  sons  to  back  you  now  ? 
The  wanton  Edward,  and  the  lusty  George  ? 

*  And  where's  that  valiant  crook-back  prodigy, 
Dicky  your  boy,  that,  with  his  grumbling  voice. 
Was  wont  to  cheer  his  dad  in  mutinies  ? 

Or,  with  the  rest,  where  is  your  darling  Rutland  ? 
Look,  York ;  I  stain'd  this  napkin  '^  with  the  blood 

right ;  nor  can  I  approve  of  Johnson's  explanation  ; — it  appears  to 
me  that  "  It  is  rvars  prize,"  means  merely  that  it  is  the  estimation 
of  people  at  war;  the  settled  opinion.     M.  Mason. 

dolus,  an  virtus,  quis  in  hoste  requirat  ?      Virg. 

Malone. 

5  So  TRUE  men  yield,]  A  true  man  has  been  already  explained 
to  be  an  honest  man,  as  opposed  to  a  thief.  See  vol.  ix.  p.  146, 
n.  7.     Malone. 

6  That  raught  — ]  i.  e.  That  reached.  The  ancient  preterite 
and  participle  passive  oi  reach.     So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  The  hand  of  death  has  raught  him."     Steevens. 

7  -^ this  NAPKIN— ]     A  «a/3A7n  is  a  handkerchief.     Johnson. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  39$ 

That  valiant  Clifford,  with  his  rapier's  point, 

Made  issue  from  the  bosom  of  the  boy : 

And,  if  thine  eyes  can  water  for  his  death, 

I  give  thee  this  to  dry  thy  cheeks  withal. 

'  Alas,  poor  York!  but  that  I  hate  thee  deadly, 

I  should  lament  thy  miserable  state. 

I  pr'ythee,  grieve,  to  make  me  merry,  York ; 

Stamp,  rave,  and  fret,  that  I  may  sing  and  dance  ^. 

What,  hath  thy  firy  heart  so  parch'd  thine  entrails. 

That  not  a  tear  can  fall  for  Rutland's  death  ? 

*  Why  art  thou  patient,  man  ?  thou  should'st  be 

mad; 

*  And  I,  to  make  thee  mad,  do  mock  thee  thus. 
Thou  would'st  be  feed,  I  see,  to  make  me  sport ; 
York  cannot  speak,  unless  he  wear  a  crown. — 

A  crown  for  York; — and,  lords,  bow  low  to  him. — 
Hold  you  his  hands,  v/hilst  I  do  set  it  on. — 

[Putting  a  paper  Crown  on  his  Head^. 

So,  in  As  You  Like  It :  "  To  that  youth  he  calls  his  Rosalind, 
he  sends  this  bloody  napkin."     Stbevens. 

^  Stamp,  rave,  and  fret,  &c.]  I  have  placed  this  line  as  it 
stands  in  the  old  play.  In  the  folio  it  is  introduced,  I  believe,  by 
the  carelessness  of  the  transcriber,  some  lines  lower,  after  the 
words — "  do  mock  thee  thus  ;  "  where  it  appears  to  me  out  of  its 
place.     Malone. 

9  Putting  a  paper  Crotvn  on  Jiis  Head.']  Shakspeare  has  on  this 
occasion  deviated  from  history,  if  such  of  our  English  Chronicles 
as  I  have  occasionally  looked  into,  may  be  believed.  According 
to  these,  the  paper  crown  was  not  placed  on  the  Duke  of  York's 
head  till  after  it  had  been  cut  off.  Rutland  likewise  was  not 
killed  by  Clifford^  till  after  h'is  father's  death.     Steevens, 

The  ingenious  commentator  is  most  certainly  mistaken.  Shak- 
speare, so  far  from  having  deviated  from  history,  has  followed  it 
with  the  utmost  precision.  Whethamstede  expressly  tells  us, 
that  the  Lancastrians,  in  direct  breach  of  a  mutual  agreement, 
and  before  the  day  appointed  for  the  battle,  fell  suddenly  upon 
the  Duke's  army,  and  took  him  and  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  prison- 
ers ;  treating  both,  but  especially  the  Duke,  in  the  most  shameful 
manner:  "Nam,  (says  he,)  statuentes  eum  super  unum  parvum 
formicariura  colliculum,  et  quoddam  sertum  vile,  ex  palustri 
graraine  confectum,  imponentes,  per  modum  coronse,  super  caput 


396  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

Ay,  marry,  sir,  now  looks  he  like  a  king  ! 

Ay,  this  is  he  that  took  king  Henry's  chair ; 

And  this  is  he  was  his  adopted  heir. — 

But  how  is  it  that  great  Plantagenet 

Is  crown'd  so  soon,  and  broke  his  solemn  oath  ? 

As  I  bethink  me,  you  should  not  be  king, 

Till  our  king  Henry  had  shook  hands  with  death  '. 

And  will  you  pale"  your  head  in  Henry's  glory, 

suum,  non  aliter  quam  Judsei  coram  Domino  incurvaverunt  genua 
sua  coram  ipso,  dicentPs  illusorie :  Ave  rex,  sine  7-egimine ;  ave 
rex,  absque  licreditatc  ;  ave  dux  et  princeps,  absque  omni  populo 
j)enitu&  et  possessione.  Ex  hiis  una  cum  aliis  variis,  in  eum  pro- 
brose  opprobrioseque  dictis,  coegerunt  ipsum  demum  per  capitis 
abscissionom  clameum  relinquere  sua;  justicite  vendicacionis," 
p.  4S9.  Not  a  single  circumstance  is  omitted,  or  varied  in  the 
scene.  It  is  not,  however,  imagined  that  Shakspeare  had  ever 
consulted  ^^'hethamstede  :  lie  found  the  same  story  no  doubt  in 
some  old  black  letter  Chronicle,  or  he  might  possibly  have  it 
from  a  popular  tradition.     Ritson. 

According  to  Hall  the  paper  crown  was  not  placed  on  York's 
head  till  after  he  was  dead ;  but  Holinshed,  after  giving  Hall's 
narration  of  this  business  almost  verbatim,  adds  : — "  Some  write, 
that  the  Duke  was  taken  alive,  and  in  derision  caused  to  stand 
upon  a  mole-hill,  on  whose  heade  they  put  a  garland  instead  of 
a  crowne,  which  they  had  fashioned  and  made  of  segges  or  bul- 
rushes, and  having  so  crowned  him  with  that  garlande,  they 
kneeled  downe  afore  him,  as  the  Jewes  did  to  Christe  in  scorne, 
saving  to  him,  hayle  king  without  rule,  hayle  king  without  heri- 
tage,"havle  duke  and  prince  without  people  or  possessions.  And 
at  lengtli  having  thus  scorned  hym  with  these  and  dwerse 
other  the  like  despitefuU  woordes.  tliey  stroke  otf  his  heade,  which 
(as  yee  have  heard)  they  presented  to  the  queen." 

Both  the  chroniclers  say,  that  the  Karl  of  Rutland  was  killed 
by  Clitford  duriu<r  the  battle  of  M'akefiold  ;  but  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed that  his  father  had  first  ftiUen.  The  Earl's  tutor  probably 
attempted  to  save  him  as  soon  as  the  rout  began.     Maloxe. 

'  Till  our  king  Henry  had  shook  hands  with  death.]  On  York's 
return  from  Ireland,  at  a  meeting  of  parliament,  it  was  settled, 
that  Henry  should  enjoy  the  throne  during  his  life,  and  that  York 
should  succeed  him.     See  Hall,  Henry  \\.  fol  9S.     Maloxe. 

^  .\nd  will  you  pale  — ]     i.  e.  impale,  encircle  with  a  crown. 

Malone. 

So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

•'  Whate'cr  the  ocean  pales,  or  sky  inclips."     Steevens. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  397 

And  rob  his  temples  of  the  diadem, 
Now  in  his  life,  against  your  holy  oath  ? 
O,  tis  a  fault  too  too  unpardonable  ! — 
Off  with  the  crown  ;  and,  with  the  crown,  his  head ; 
And,  whilst  we  breathe,  take  time  to  do  him  dead^. 
Clip.  That  is  my  office,  for  my  father  s  sake. 
Q.  M.^R.    Nay,   stay ;  let's  hear  the  orisons  he 

makes. 
York.  She -wolf  of  France,  but  worse  than  wolves 

of  France, 
'  Whose   tongue   more   poisons   than   the   adder's 

tooth ! 
How  ill-beseeming  is  it  in  thy  sex. 
To  triumph  like  an  Amazonian  trull, 
'  Upon  their  woes  ^,  whom  fortune  captivates  ? 
But  that  thy  face  is,  visor-like,  unchanging. 
Made  impudent  with  use  of  evil  deeds, 
I  would  assay,  proud  queen,  to  make  thee  blush : 
To  tell  thee  whence  thou  cam'st,  of  whom  deriv'd. 
Were  shame  enough  to  shame  thee,  wert  thou  not 

shameless. 
Thy  father  bears  the  type  ^  of  king  of  Naples, 
Of  both  the  Sicils,  and  Jerusalem  ; 
Yet  not  so  wealthy  as  an  English  yeoman. 
Hath  that  poor  monarch  taught  thee  to  insult  ? 
It  needs  not,  nor  it  boots  thee  not,  proud  queen ; 
Unless  the  adage  must  be  verified, — 
That  beggars,  mounted,  run  their  horse  to  death. 
'Tis  beauty,  that  doth  oft  make  women  proud  ; 
But,  God  he  knows,  thy  share  thereof  is  small : 

3  — to  do  him  dead,]     To  kill  him.     See  vol.  vii.  p.  153,  n.  4. 

Malone. 
See  also  this  play,  p.  408,  n.  9.     Steevens. 

4  Upon  THEIR  woes,]     So  the  folio.     The  quarto  reads — Upon 
his  woes.     Stee\  exs. 

s  —  the  type — ]     i.  e.  the  distinp^uishing"  mark;  an  obsolete 
use  of  the  word.     So  again,  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  The  high  imperial  ti/pe  of  this  earths  glory."     Steevens. 


398  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

'Tis  virtue,  that  doth  make  them  most  admir'd  ; 

The  contrary  doth  make  thee  Vv^onder'd  at : 

'Tis  government,  that  makes  them  seem  divine  ^ ; 

The  want  thereof  makes  thee  abominable  : 

Thou  art  as  opposite  to  every  good. 

As  the  Antipodes  are  unto  us. 

Or  as  the  south  to  the  septentrion  ^. 

O,  tiger's  heart,  wrapp'd  in  a  woman's  hide^ ! 

How  could'st  thou  drain  the  hfe-blood  of  the  child, 

To  bid  the  father  wipe  his  eyes  withal, 

And  yet  be  seen  to  bear  a  woman's  face  ? 

Women  are  soft,  mild,  pitiful,  and  flexible ; 

*  Thou  stern,  obdurate,  flinty,  rough,  remorseless. 

*  Bid'st  thou  me  rage  ?  why,  now  thou  hast  thy 

wish  ^ : 

*  Would'st  have  me  weep  ?  why,  now  thou  hast  thy 

will: 

*  For  raging  wind  blows  up  incessant  showers  \ 
And,  when  the  rage  allays,  the  rain  begins". 

^  'Tis  GOVERNMENT,  that  makes  them  seem  divine  ;]  Govern- 
ment, in  the  language  of  that  time,  signified  evenness  of  temper, 
and  decency  of  manners.     Johnson. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  FalstafFsays  : 

"  Let  men  say,  we  be  men  oi  ^ooA  government."  ^teevess. 

7  ^septentrion.]  i.  e.  the  North.  Seplentrio,  Lat.  Milton 
uses  the  same  word  as  an  adjective : 

" cold  septentrion  blasts."     Steevens. 

8  O,  tiger's  heart,  wrapp'd  in  a  woman's  hide  !]  We  find  al- 
most the  same  line  in  Acolastus  his  Aftervvitte,   1600: 

"  O  xvoolvish  heart,  wrapp'd  in  a  woman's  hide  !  " 
The  author  of  this  piece,   S.  Nicholson,   has  frequently  tran- 
scribed whole  lines  from  Shakspeare.     M alone. 

9  — thy  WISH,  &c.]  So  the  folio.  The  quarto  reads — "thy 
•will"  in  the  first  line,  and  "thy  ivish"  in  the  second.  Steevens. 

'  For  raging  wind  blows  up  incessant  showers,]  Thus  the 
folio.     The  quartos  read — 

"  For  raging  winds  blow  up  a  storm  oftearsy    Steevens. 
^  Would'st  have  me  weep?  why,  now  thou  hast  thy  will : 

For  RAGING  WIND  BLOW'S   UP  INCESSANT  SHOWERS, 

And,  when  the  rage   allays,  the  rain  begins.]     We 
meet  with  the  same  thought  in  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  399 

These  tears  are  my  sweet  Rutland's  obsequies  ; 
*  And  every  drop  cries  vengeance  for  his  death  ''\ — 
'  'Gainst  thee,  fell  Clifford, — and  thee,  false  French- 
woman. 
North.  Beshrew  me,  but  his  passions  move  me  so, 
That  hardly  can  I  check  my  eyes  from  tears, 

York.  That  face  of  his  the  hungry  cannibals 
Would  not  have  touch'd,  would  not  have  stain'd 
with  blood  ^ : 


"  This  ivi7tdi/  tempest,  till  it  bloiv  up  rain, 
"  Held  back  his  sorrow's  tide,  to  make  it  more  ; 
"  At  last  it  rains,  and  busy  winds  give  o'er. 
"  Then  son  and  father  iveep  with  equal  strife, 
"  Who  should  weep  most  for  daughter  or  for  wife." 
Again,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  . that  tears  shall  drown  the  wind." 

Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida : 

"  Where  are  my  tears?  rain,  rain,  to  laij  this  wiyid?  " 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  This  shower,  blown  up  by  tempest  of  the  soul — ." 

Malone. 
3  And  every  drop   cries  vengeance  for  his  death,]     So  the 
folio.     The  quarto  thus  : 

"  And  every  drop  begs  vengeance  as  it  Jails, 
"  On  thee,  &c,     Steevens. 
4  — would  not  have  stain'd  with  blood  :]     Thus  the  first  folio. 

Steevens. 
"  —  would  not  have  stain'd  tlie  7-oses  just  with  blood  :  "     So 
the  second  folio  nonsensically   reads  the  passage  ;  but  the  old 
quarto,  &c,  of  better  authority,  have  it  thus  : 
"  That  face  of  his  the  hungry  cannibals 
"  Would  not  have  touch'd,  would  not  have  stain'd  with  blood." 
And  this  is  sense.     Could  any  one  now  have  believed  that  an 
editor  of  common   understanding  should  reject  this,    and  fasten 
upon  the  nonsense  of  the  later  edition,  only  because  it  afforded 
matter  of  conjecture?  and  yet  Mr.  Theobald  vvill  needs  correct, 
"  roses  just  with  blood,"  to  "  roses  juic'd  with  blood,"  that  is, 
change  one  blundering  editor's  nonsense   for  another's.     But  if 
there  ever  was  any  meaning  in  the  line,  it  was  thus  expressed : 

"  Would  not  have  stain'd  the  roses  just  in  bud.'' 
And  this  the  Oxford  editor  hath  espoused.     Warbukton. 

As,  without  correction,  the  words — "  the  roses  just,"  do  not 
make  good  sense,  there  is  very  little  reason  to  suspect  their  being 


400  THIRD  PART  OF  act  i. 

But  you  are  more  inhuman,  more  inexorable, — 
O,  ten  times  more, — than  tigers  of  Hyrcania^. 
See,  ruthless  queen,  a  hapless  father's  tears : 
This  cloth  thou  dipp'dst  in  blood  of  my  sweet  boy, 
And  I  with  tears  do  wash  the  blood  away. 
Keep  thou  the  napkin,  and  go  boast  of  this  : 

\He  gives  back  the  Handkerchief. 
And,  if  thou  tell'st  the  heavy  story  right. 
Upon  my  soul,  the  hearers  will  shed  tears  ^  ; 
Yea,  even  my  foes  will  shed  fast-falling  tears. 
And  say, — Alas,  it  was  a  piteous  deed  ! — 
There,  take  the  crown,  and,  with  the  crown,  my 

curse '' ; 
And,  in  thy  need,  such  comfort  come  to  thee. 
As  now  I  reap  at  thy  too  cruel  hand  ! — 
Hard-hearted  Clifford,  take  me  from  the  world  ; 
My  soul  to  heaven,  my  blood  upon  your  heads! 
North.  Had  he  been  slaughter-man  to  all  my 
kin, 
*  I  should  not  for  my  life  but  weep  with  him, 

interpolated,  and  therefore  it  is  most  probable  they  were  preserved 
among  the  players  by  memory.     The  correction  is  this  : 

"  That  face  of  his  the  hungry  cannibals 

"  Would  not  have  touch'd  : 

"  Would  not  have  slain'd  the  roses  just  i'  tJi  bloom.'" 
The  words   ["  the  roses  just "]  were,  I  suppose,  left  out  by  the 
first  editors,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  superfluous  hemistich. 

MUSGRAVE. 

s  —  of  Hyrcania.]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos  read — of  Ar- 
cadia.    Steevens. 

^  And,  if  thou  tell'st  the  heavy  story  right, 
Upon   my  soul,  the  hearers  will  shed  tears ;]     So,  in  King 
Richard  II. : 

"  Tell  thou  the  lamentable  tale  of  me, 

"  And  send  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds." 

Steevens. 
1  There,    take  the  crown,  and,  with   the  crown,   my  curse  ;] 
Rowe  has  transferred  this  execration  to  his  dying  Hengist  in  The 
Royal  Convert : 

" wear  my  crown  ; 

"  Take  it,  and  be  as  curs'd  with  it  as  I  was."     Steevens. 


ACT  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  401 

To  see  how  inly  sorrow  gripes  his  souP. 

Q.  Mar.    What,  weeping-ripe,   my  lord  North- 
umberland ? 
Think  but  upon  the  wrong  he  did  us  all. 
And  that  will  quickly  dry  thy  melting  tears. 

Clip.  Here's  for  my  oath,  here's  for  my  father's 
death.  [Stabbing  him. 

Q.  Mar.  And  here's  to  right  our  gentle-hearted 
king^.  [Stabbing  him. 

York.  Open  thy  gate  of  mercy,  gracious  God ! 
My  soul  flies  through  these  wounds  to  seek  out 
thee.  [Dies. 

Q.  Mar.  Off  with  his  head,  and  set  it  on  York 
gates  ; 
So  York  may  overlook  the  town  of  York  \ 

[E.veimt. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 

A  Plain  near  Mortimer's  Cross  in  Herefordshire. 

Drums.      Enter  En/rARD,  and  Richard,  with  their 

Forces,  marching. 

*  Enir.  I  wonder,  how  our  princely  father  'scap'd, 
*  Or  whether  he  be  'scap'd  away,  or  no, 

^  I  should  not  for  my  life  but  weep  with  him. 
To  see  how  inly  sorrow  gripes  his  soul.]     So  the  folio.    The 
quartos  as  follows  : 

"  I  could  not  choose  but  weep  with  him,  to  see 
"  How  inward  anger  gripes  his  heart."     Steevens. 
9  And  here's  to  right  our  gentle-hearted  king.]     So  the   folio. 
The  quarto  thus  : 

"  And  there's  to  right  our  gentle  harted  kind." 
Of  these  variations  there  are  many,  but  it  is  useless  labour  to 
enumerate  them  all.     Steevens. 

'   So  York  may  overlook,  &c.]     This  gallant  prince  fell  by  his 
own  imprudence,  in  consequence  of  leading  an  army  of  only  five 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  D 


402  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n, 

*  From  Clifford's  and  Northumberland's  pursuit ; 

*  Had  he  been  ta'en,   we  should  have  heard  the 

news; 
Had  he  been  slain,  we  should  have  heard  the  news ; 

*  Or,    had  he  scap'd,  methinks,  we  should  have 

heard 

*  The  happy  tidings  of  his  good  escape. — 

*  How  fares  my  brother  '  ?  why  is  he  so  sad  ? 

Rich.   I  cannot  joy,  until  I  be  resolv'd 
Where  our  right  valiant  father  is  become. 

*  I  saw  him  in  the  battle  range  about ; 

*  And  watch'd  him  how  he  singled  Clifford  forth. 

thousand  men  to  engage  with  twenty  thousand,  and  not  waiting 
for  the  arrival  of  his  son  the  Earl  of  March,  with  a  large  body  of 
Welshmen.  He  and  Cecily  his  wife,  with  his  son  Edmond  Earl 
of  Rutland,  were  originally  buried  in  the  chancel  of  Foderingay 
church  ;  and  (as  Peacham  informs  us  in  his  Complete  Gentleman, 
4to.  1627,)  "  when  the  chancel  in  that  furie  of  knocking 
churches  and  sacred  monuments  in  the  head,  was  also  felled  to 
the  ground,"  they  were  removed  into  the  churchyard  ;  and  after- 
wards "  lapjDed  in  lead  they  were  buried  in  the  church  by  the 
commandment  of  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  and  a  mean  monument  of 
plaister  wrought  with  the  trowel  erected  over  them,  very  homely, 
and  far  unfitting  so  noble  princes." 

"  I  remember,  (adds  the  same  writer,)  Master  Creuse,  a  gen- 
tleman and  my  worthy  friend,  who  dwelt  in  the  college  at  the 
same  time,  told  me,  that  their  coffins  being  opened,  their  bodies 
appeared  very  plainly  to  be  discerned,  and  withal  that  the  dut- 
chess  Cecily  had  about  her  necke,  hanging  in  a  silke  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  \vritten  yester- 
day." This  pardon  was  probably  a  dispensation  which  tlie  Duke 
procured,  from  the  oath  of  allegiance  that  he  had  sworn  to  Henry 
in  St.  Paul's  church  on  the  10th  of  March,  1452.     Malone. 

^  How  fares  my  brother  ?]  This  scene,  in  the  old  quartos  be- 
gins thus  : 

"  After  this  dangerous  fight  and  hapless  war, 
"  How  doth  my  noble  brother  Richard  fare  ?  " 

Had  the  author  taken  the  trouble  to  revise  his  play,  he  hardly 
would  have  begun  the  first  Act  and  the  second  with  almost  the 
same  exclamation,  expressed  in  almost  the  same  words.  Warwick 
opens  the  scene  with — 

"  I  wonder,  how  the  king  escap'd  our  hands."    Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  403 

*  Methought,  he  bore  him  ^  in  the  thickest  troop. 
As  doth  a  lion  in  a  herd  of  neat : 

*  Or  as  a  bear,  encompass'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  son*. 
See,  how  the  morning  opes  her  golden  gates. 
And  takes  her  farewell  of  the  glorious  sun  ^ ! 

*  How  well  resembles  it  the  prime  of  youth, 

*  Trimm'd  like  a  younker,  prancing  to  his  love ! 
Enir.  Dazzle  mine  eyes,  or  do  I  see  three  suns  '^  ? 
Rich.  Three  glorious  suns,  each  one  a  perfect  sun ; 

Not  separated  with  the  racking  clouds  \ 


3  Methought,  he  bore  him — ]  i.  e.  he  demeaned  himself.  So, 
in  Measure  for  Measure  : 

"  How  I  may  formally  in  person  Lear  me — ."     Mai.one. 

4  Methinks,  'tis  prize  enougli  to  be  his  son.]  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  ^;r2ce  is  the  right  word.  Richard's  sense  is,  though 
we  have  missed  the  prize  for  which  v.'e  fought,  we  have  yet  an 
honour  left  that  may  content  us.     Johnson. 

Prize,  if  it  be  the  true  reading,  I  believe,  here  means  ^;rm7co-e. 
So,  in  the  former  Act : 

"  It  is  war's  prize  to  take  all  'vantages  ?  "     Malone. 

5  And  takes  her  farewell  of  the  glorious  sun  !]  Aurora  takes 
for  a  time  her  farewell  of  the  sun,  when  she  dismisses  him  to  his 
diurnal  course.     Johnson. 

6  — do  I  see  THREE  SUNS?]  This  circumstance  is  mentioned 
both  by  Hall  and  Ilolinshed  :  "  —  at  which  tyme  the  son  (as 
some  write)  appeared  to  the  earle  of  March  like  three  sunnes,  and 
sodainely  joyned  altogither  in  one,  uppon  whiche  sight  hee  tooke 
such  courage,  that  he  fiercely  setting  on  his  enemyes  put  them  to 
flight ;  and  for  this  cause  menne  ymagined  that  he  gave  the  sun 
in  his  full  bryghtnesse  for  his  badge  or  cognisance."  These  are 
the  words  of  Holinshed.     Malone. 

7  — the  RACKING  clouds,]  i.  e.  the  clouds  in  rapid,  tumultuary 
motion.     So,  in  The  Raigne  of  King  Edward  III.  1596  : 

2D  2 


404  THIRD  PART  OF  act  lu 

But  sever  d  in  a  pale  clear-shining  sky. 

See,  see  !  they  join,  embrace,  and  seem  to  kiss. 

As  if  they  vow'd  some  league  inviolable  : 

Now  are  they  but  one  lamp,  one  light,  one  sun. 

In  this  the  heaven  figures  some  event. 

*  Enir.  'Tis  wondrous  strange,  the  like  yet  never 

heard  of. 
I  think,  it  cites  us,  brother,  to  the  field; 
That  we,  the  sons  of  brave  Plantagenet, 
'  Each  one  already  blazing  by  our  meeds  ^, 
Should,  notwithstanding,  join  our  lights  together, 

*  And  over-shine  the  earth,  as  this  the  world. 
'  Whate'er  it  bodes,  henceforward  will  I  bear 
Upon  my  target  three  fair  shining  suns. 

*  Rich.  Nay,    bear  three    daughters; — by  your 

leave  I  speak  it, 

*  You  love  the  breeder  better  than  the  male. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

'  But  what  art  thou,  whose  heavy  looks  foretel, 

'  vSome  dreadful  story  hanging  on  thy  tongue  ? 

Mess.  Ah,  one  that  was  a  woful  looker  on, 

" like  inconstant  clouds 

"  That,  rack'd  upon  the  carnage  of  the  winds, 
"  Encrease,"  &c.     Steevens. 
Again,  in  our  author's  32d  Sonnet  : 

"  Anon  permit  the  basest  clouds  to  ride 

"  With  ugly  rack  on  his  celestial  face."     Malone. 

*  —  blazing  by  our  meeds,]  Illustrious  and  shining  by  the 
armorial  ensigns  granted  us  as  meeds  of  our  great  exploits.  Meed 
likewise  is  merit.     It  might  be  plausibly  read  : 

" blazing  by  our  deeds."     Johnson. 

Johnson's  first  explanation  of  this  passage  is  not  right.  Meed 
here  means  merit. 

So,  in  the  fourth  Act,  the  King  says : 
"  My  meed  hath  got  me  fame." 
And  in  Timon  of  Athens  the  word  is  used  in  the  same  sense: 

" No  meed  but  he  repays 

"  Sevenfold  above  itself."     M.  Mason. 


sc.  1.  KING  HENRY  VI.  405 

When  as  the  noble  duke  of  York  was  slain, 

*  Your  princely  father,  and  my  loving  lord. 

'  Eorr.  O,  speak  no  more'' !  for  I  have  heard  too 
much  ^ . 

*  Rich.  Say,  how  he  died,  for  I  will  hear  it  all. 

*  Mess.  Environed  he  was  with  many  foes  - ; 
'  And  stood  against  them  as  the  hope  of  Troy  ^ 

*  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  subdu'd ; 

*  But  only  slaughter'd  by  the  ireful  arm 

*  Of  unrelenting  Clifford,  and  the  queen  : 

9  O,  speak  no  more  !]  The  generous  tenderness  of  Edward, 
and  savage  fortitude  of  Richard,  are  well  distinguished  by  their 
different  reception  of  their  fathers  death.     Johnson. 

I  —  for  I  have  heard  too  much.]  So  the  folio.  The  quartos 
thus  : 

"  . for  I  can  hear  no  more. 

*'  Rich.  Tell  on  thy  tale,"  &c.     Steevens. 
^  Environed  he  was  with  many  foes  ;]     Thus,  in  the  old  play  : 
"  O,  one  that  was  a  woeful  looker  on, 
"  When  as  tlie  noble  duke  of  York  was  slain. — 
"  When  as  the  noble  duke  was  put  to  flight, 
"  And  then  persude  by  Clifford  and  the  queene, 
"  And  many  soldiers  moe,  who  all  at  once 
"  Let  drive  at  him,  and  forst  the  duke  to  yield  ; 
"  And  then  they  set  him  on  a  moul-hill  there, 
"  And  crown'd  the  gracious  duke  in  high  despight ; 
"  Who  then  with  tears  began  to  wail  his  fall. 
"  The  ruthlesse  queene  perceiving  he  did  weepe, 
"  Gave  him  a  handkerchief  to  wipe  his  eyes, 
*'  Dipt  in  the  bloud  of  sweete  young  Rutland,  by 
"  Rough  Clifford  slaine  ;  who  weeping  tooke  it  up  : 
"  Then  through  his  brest  they  thrust  their  bloudie  swords, 
"  Who  like  a  lambe  fell  at  tlie  butcher's  feate. 
*'  Then  on  the  gates  of  Yorke  thty  set  his  head, 
*'  And  there  it  doth  remaine  the  piteous  spectacle 
"  That  ere  mine  eyes  beheld."     Malon.'^,, 
8  — the  hope  of  Troy—]     Hector.         These   lines  are  bor- 
rowed, with  some  alterations,  from  another  part  of  the  old  play. 

Malone. 


406  THIRD  PAUT  OF  ^cz'  //. 

*  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  sv/eet  young  Rutland,  by  rough  Clifford  slain : 
'  And,  after  many  scorns,  many  foul  taunts, 
'  They  took  his  head,  and  on  the  gates  of  York 

*  They  set  the  same  ;  and  there  it  doth  remain, 

*  The  saddest  spectacle  that  e'er  I  view'd. 

Edtv.  Sweet   duke  of  York,  our   prop  to  lean 
upon ; 

*  Now  thou  art  gone,  we  have  no  staff,  no  stay  ! 

*  O  Clifford,  boist'rous  Clifford,  thou  hast  slain 

*  The  flower  of  Europe  for  his  chivalry  ; 

*  And  treacherously  hast  thou  vanquish'd  him, 

*  For,  hand  to  hand,    he  would   have  vanquishd 

thee ! — 
Now  my  soul's  palace  is  become  a  prison  : 
Ah,  would  she  break  from  hence !  that  this  my  body 
'  Might  in  the  ground  be  closed  up  in  rest : 
'  For  never  henceforth  shall  1  joy  again, 

*  Never,  O  never,  shall  I  see  more  joy. 

'  Rich.  I  cannot  weep ;  for  all  my  body's  moisture 
Scarce  serves  to  quench  my  furnace-burning  heart : 

*  Nor   can   my   tongue  unload  my   heart's    great 

burden  ; 

*  For  self-same  wind,  that  I  should  speak  withal, 

*  Is  kindling  coals,  that  fire  all  my  breast, 

*  And  burn  me  up  with  flames  ^,  that  tears  would 

quench. 

*  To  weep,  is  to  make  less  the  depth  of  grief  ^ : 


4  And  burn  me  up  with  flames,  &c.]     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  France,  1  am  burnd  up  with  consuming  wrath,"  &c. 

Steevens. 

5  To  weep,  &c.]     Here,  in  the  original  play,   instead  of  these 
two  lines,  we  have — 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  407 

*  Tears,  then,  for  babes ;  blows,  and  revenge,  for 

me  ! — 

*  Richard,  I  bear  thy  name,  I'll  venge  thy  death, 

*  Or  die  renowned  by  attemping  it. 

Edtf.  His  name  that  valiant  duke  hath  left  with 
thee  ; 

*  His  dukedom  and  his  chair  with  me  is  left  ^. 

Rich.  Nay,  if  thou  be  that  princely  eagle's  bird. 
Show  thy  descent  by  gazing  'gainst  the  sun  "^ : 
For  chair  and  dukedom,  throne  and  kingdom  say; 
Either  that  is  thine,  or  else  thou  wert  not  his. 

March.      Enter  WAmricK  and  Montague^    with 

Forces  ^. 

PPar.  How  now,   fair  lords  ?  What  fare  ?  what 

news  abroad  ? 
*  Rich.  Great  lord  of  Warwick,  if  we  should  re- 
count 
Our  baleful  news,  and,  at  each  word's  deliverance. 
Stab  poniards  in  our  flesh  till  all  were  told, 

"  I  cannot  joy,  till  this  white  rosebedy'd 

"  Even  in  the  heart-bloud  of  the  house  of  Lancaster." 

Malone. 
^  His  dukedom  and  his  chair  with   me  is  left.]     So  the  folio. 
The  quarto  thus : 

"  His  chair,  and  dukedom,  that  remains  for  me." 

Steevens. 

7  Show  thy  descent  by  gazing  'gainst  the  sun  :]     So,  in  Spen- 
ser's Hymn  of  Heavenly  Beauty  : 

"  .  like  the  native  brood  of  eagle's  kind, 

"  On  that  bright  sun  of  glory  fix  thine  eyes." 
Again,  in  Solyman  and  Perseda : 

"  As  air-bred  eagles,  if  they  once  perceive 

"  That  any  of  their  brood  but  close  their  sight, 

"  When  they  should  gaze  against  the  glorious  sun  ; 

"  They  straitway  seize  upon  him  with  their  talons, 

"  That  on  the  earth  it  may  untimely  die, 

"  For  looking  but  askew  at  heaven's  bright  eye." 

Steevens. 

8  Enter  JVarivick,  &c.]     This  meeting  was  at  Chipping-Nor- 
ton.     W.  Wyrcester,  p.  488.     Ritson. 


408  THIRD  PART  OF  act  lu 

The  words  would    add   more    anguish   than    the 
wounds. 

0  valiant  lord,  the  duke  of  York  is  slain. 

Edu'.  O  "Warwick  !  Warwick  !  that  Plantagenet, 
Which  held  thee  dearly,  as  his  soul's  redemption, 
Is  by  the  stern  lord  Clifford  done  to  death ''. 

War.    Ten   days  ago  I  drown'd  these  news  in 
tears  : 
And  now,  to  add  more  measure  to  your  woes, 

1  come  to  tell  you  things  since  then  befall  n. 
After  the  bloody  fray  at  Wakefield  fought, 
Where  your  brave  father  breath'd  his  latest  gasp. 
Tidings,  as  swiftly  as  the  posts  could  run, 
Were  brought  me  of  your  loss,  and  his  depart. 

I  then  in  London,  keeper  of  the  king, 
Muster'd  my  soldiers,  gathered  flocks  of  friends. 
And  very  well  appointed,  as  I  thought  \ 
March'd  towards  Saint  Alban's    to    intercept    the 

queen, 
Bearing  the  king  in  my  behalf  along  : 
For  by  my  scouts  I  was  advertised. 
That  she  was  coming  with  a  full  intent 
To  dash  our  late  decree  in  parliament, 
*.  Touching  king  Henry's  oath,  and  your  succession. 
Short  tale  to  make, — we  at  Saint  Alban's  met, 

9  Is  by  the  stern  lord  Clifford  done  to  death.]  T)one  to 
death,  for  killed,  was  a  common  expression  long  before  Shak- 
speare's  time.     Thus  Chaucer  : 

"  And  seide,  that  if  ye  done  us  both  to  dicn."     Gray. 
Spenser  mentions  a  plague  "  which  many  r/«/ <ot(ye." 

.Johnson. 
Faire  mourir,  a  French  phrase.     So,  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar, 
1564.: 

"  ^Ve  understand  that  he  was  done  to  death." 
Again,  ibid. : 

•' done  to  death  with  many  a  mortal  wound." 

Again,  in  Orlando  Furioso,  1599: 

"  I  am  the  man  that  did  the  slave  to  death."     Steevens. 
*  And  very  well,  &c.]     This  necessary  line  I  have  restored  from 
the  old  quartos.     Steevens, 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  409 

Our  battles  join'd,  and  both  sides  fiercely  fought ; 
But,  whether  'twas  the  coldness  of  the  king, 
Who  look'd  full  gently  on  his  warlike  queen, 
That  robb'd  my  soldiers  of  their  hated  spleen  ; 
Or  whether  'twas  report  of  her  success  ; 
Or  more  than  common  fear  of  Clifford's  rigour, 
'  Who  thunders  to  his  captives  - — blood  and  death, 
I  cannot  judge  :  but,  to  conclude  with  truth, 
Their  weapons  like  to  lightning  came  and  went ; 
Our  soldiers' — like  the  night-owl's  lazy  flight  ^, 
*  Or  like  a  lazy  thrasher  with  a  flail  *, — 
Fell  gently  down,  as  if  they  struck  their  friends. 
I  cheer'd  them  up  with  justice  of  our  cause, 
With  promise  of  high  pay,  and  great  rewards : 
But  all  in  vain  ;  they  had  no  heart  to  fight. 
And  we,  in  them,  no  hope  to  win  the  day. 
So  that  we  fled  ;  the  king,  unto  the  queen  ; 
Lord  George  your  brother,  Norfolk,  and  myself, 
In  haste,  post-haste,  are  come  to  join  with  you; 
For  in  the  marches  here,  w^e  heard,  you  were. 
Making  another  head  to  fight  again. 

'  EorrJ  Where  is  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  gentle 
Warwick  ? 

^  —  to  his  CAPTIVES  — ]  So  the  folio.  The  old  play  reads — 
captaines.     Malone. 

^  — like  the  night-owl's  lazy  flight,]  Tliis  image  is  not  very- 
congruous  to  the  subject,  nor  was  it  necessary  to  the  comparison, 
which  is  happily  enough  completed  by  the  thrasher.     Johnson. 

Dr.  Johnson  objects  to  this  comparison  as  incongruous  to  the 
subject  ;  but  I  think,  unjustly.  Warwick  compares  the  languid 
blows  of  his  soldiers,  to  the  lazy  strokes  which  the  wings  of  the 
owl  give  to  the  air  in  its  flight,  which  is  remarkably  slow. 

M.  Mason. 

4  Or  like  a  lazy  thrasher — ]  The  old  play  more  elegantly 
reads  —  Or  like  an  idle  thrasher,  &c.     Malone. 

5  Ecliv.  &c.]  The  exact  ages  of  the  Duke  of  York's  children, 
introduced  in  the  present  play,  will  best  prove  how  far  our  au- 
thor has,  either  intentionally  or  otherwise,  deviated,  in  this  par- 
ticular, from  historical  truth. 

Edward,  Earl  of  March,  afterwards  Duke  of  York,  and  King 


410  THIRD  PART  OF  act  lu 

And  when  came  George  from  Burgundy  to  England  ? 

*  JVar.  Some  six  miles  off  the  duke  is  with  the 
soldiers : 
And  for  your  brother,— he  was  lately  sent 
From  your  kind  aunt,  duchess  of  Burgundy, 
*  With  aid  of  soldiers  to  this  needful  war  *". 

Rich.  'Twas  odds,  belike,  when  valiant  Warwick 
fled: 
Oft  have  I  heard  his  praises  in  pursuit, 
But  ne'er,  till  now,  his  scandal  of  retire. 

War.  Nor  now  my  scandal,   Richard,   dost  thou 
hear: 
For  thou  shalt  know,  this  strong  right  hand  of  mine 
Can  pluck  the  diadem  from  faint  Henry's  head, 
And  wring  the  awful  scepter  from  his  fist ; 


of  England,  his  second  son,  was  born  at  Rouen  on  Monday  the 
27th  or  28th. of  April,  1442;  Edmund,  Earl  of  Rutland,  his 
third  son,  at  the  same  place,  on  Monday  the  17th  of  May,  1443  ; 
George  of  York,  afterwards  Duke  of  Clarence,  his  sixth  son,  in 
Dublin,  on  Tuesday  the  21st  of  October,  1449;  and  Richard 
of  York,  afterwards  Duke  of  Gloster,  and  King  of  England,  his 
eighth  son,  at  Fotheringay,  on  Monday  the  2d  of  October,  1452: 
Henry,  thejirst  son,  born  in  1441,  William,  the  fourth,  in  1447. 
John,  thejifth,  in  1448,  and  Thomas,  the  seventh,  in  1451,  died 
young.  He  had  likewise  four  daughters.  The  battle  of  Wake- 
field was  fought  the  29th  of  December,  1460,  when  Edward, 
of  course,  was  in  his  nineteenth  year,  Rutland  in  his  eighteeiith, 
George  in  his  twelfth,  and  Richard  in  his  ninth.     Ritson. 

^  Ediv.  — —  WHEN  CAME  George  from  Burgundy  to  England? 

IVar.  HE  WAS   LATELY  SCUt 

From  your  kind  a\uit,  duchess  of  Burgundy, 

With  aid  of  soldiers  to  this  needful  war.]  This  circumstance 
is  not  warranted  by  history.  Clarence  and  Gloster  (as  they  were 
afterwards  created)  were  sent  into  Flanders  immediately  after  the 
battle  of  Wakefield,  and  did  not  return  until  their  brother  Edward 
got  possession  of  the  crown.  Besides,  Clarence  was  not  now 
more  than  twelve  years  old. 

Isabel,  Duchess  of  Burgundj%  whom  Shakspeare  calls  the 
Duke's  aunt,  was  daughter  of  John  I.  King  of  Portugal,  by 
Philippa  of  Lancaster,  eldest  daughter  of  John  of  Gaunt.  They 
were,  therefore,  no  more  than  third  cousins.     Ritson. 


sc.L  KING  HENRY  VI.  411 

Were  he  as  famous  and  as  bold  in  war, 
As  he  is  fam'd  for  mildness,  peace,  and  prayer. 
Rich.  I  know  it  well,  lord  Warwick  :  blame  me 

not ; 
'Tis  love,  I  bear  thy  glories,  makes  me  speak. 
But,  in  this  troublous  time,  what's  to  be  done  ? 
Shall  we  go  throw  away  our  coats  of  steel. 
And  wrap  our  bodies  in  black  mourning  gowns, 
Numb'ring  our  Ave-Maries  with  our  beads  ? 
Or  shall  we  on  the  helmets  of  our  foes 
Tell  our  devotion  with  revengeful  arms  ? 
If  for  the  last,  say — Ay,  and  to  it,  lords. 

fi^-jR.  Why,  therefore  Warwick  came  to  seek  you 

out ; 
And  therefore  comes  my  brother  Montague. 
Attend  me,  lords.     The  proud  insulting  queen, 
With  CHfford,  and  the  haught  Northumberland  '^, 
And  of  their  feather,  many  more  proud  birds. 
Have  wrought  the  easy-melting  king  like  wax^. 
He  swore  consent  to  your  succession, 
His  oath  enrolled  in  the  parliament ; 
And  now  to  London  all  the  crew  are  gone. 
To  frustrate  both  his  oath,  and  what  beside 
May  make  against  the  house  of  Lancaster. 


'  —HAUGHT  Northumberland,]    So,  Grafton,  in  his  Chronicle, 

says,  p.  417:   "  —  the  lord    Henry  Percy,  whom  the  Scottes  for 

his  ha  lit  and  valiant  courage  called  sir  Henry  Hotspurre."  Percy. 

The   word    is    common    to   many  writers.     So,   in    Marlowe's 

King  Edward  II.  1598  : 

"  This  liaught  resolve  becomes  your  majesty." 
Again,  in  Kyd's  Cornelia,  ISOi  : 

"  Pompey,  that  second  Mars,  whose  haught  renown,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Lyly's  Woman  in  the  Moon,   1597  : 

"  Thy  mind  as  haught  as  Jupiter's  high  thoughts." 

Steevens. 
^  —  the  easy-melting  king  like  wax.]     So  again,  in  this  play, 
of  the  Lady  Grey  : 

"  As  red  as  fire  ;  nay,  then  her  ixiax  must  melt." 

JoHNSOIf. 


412  THIRD  PART  OF  yicr  ii, 

'  Their  power,  I  think,  is  thirty  thousand  strong  ^ : 
Now,  if  the  help  of  Norfolk,  and  myself. 
With  all  the  friends  that  thou,  brave  earl  of  March, 
Amongst  the  loving  Welshmen  canst  procure, 

*  Will  but  amount  to  five  and  twenty  thousand, 
Why,  Via  !  to  London  will  we  march  amain  ; 
And  once  again  bestride  our  foaming  steeds, 

*  And  once  again  cry — Charge  upon  our  foes  ! 
But  never  once  again  turn  back,  and  fly. 

Rich.  Ay,  now,  methinks,  I  hear  great  Warwick 
speak : 
Ne'er  may  he  live  to  see  a  sunshine  day, 
'  That  cries — Retire,  if  Warwick  bid  him  stay. 
Rdtv.  Lord  Warwick,    on  thy   shoulder  will   I 
lean; 

*  And  when  thou  fall'st,  (as  God  forbid  the  hour  !) 
Must  Edward  fall,  which  peril  heaven  forefend ! 

War.  No  longer  earl  of  March,  but  duke  of  York  ; 
'  The  next  degree  is,  England's  royal  throne  : 
For  king  of  England  shalt  thou  be  proclaim'd 
In  every  borough  as  we  pass  along  ; 
And  he  that  throws  not  up  his  cap  for  joy, 

*  Shall  for  the  fault  make  forfeit  of  his  head. 
King  Edward, — valiant  Richard, — Montague, — 
Stay  we  no  longer  dreaming  of  renown, 

*  But  sound  the  trumpets,  and  about  our  task. 

*  Rich.  Then,  Clifford,   were  thy  heart  as  hard 

as  steel, 

*  (As  thou  hast  shown  it  flinty  by  thy  deeds,) 

*  I  come  to  pierce  it, — or  to  give  thee  mine. 

*  Edw.  Then  strike  up,  drums; — God,  and  Saint 

George,  for  us ! 


9  —  is  THIRTY  thousand  strong:]     Thus  the  folio.     The  old 
play  reads — 

"  Their  power,   I  guess  them^///>  thousand  strong." 
A  little  lower  the  same  piece  has — eight  and  forty  thousand. 

Malonb. 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  413 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

War.  How  now  ?  what  news  ? 

Mess.  The  duke  of  Norfolk  sends  you  word  by 
me, 
The  queen  is  coming  with  a  puissant  host ; 
And  craves  your  company  for  speedy  counsel. 

*  War.  Why  then  it  sorts  ^,  brave  warriors  :  Let's 

away.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

Before  York. 

Enter  King  Henry,  Queen  Margaret,  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  Clifford,  and  Northumberland,  with 
Forces. 

Q.  Mar.   Welcome,  my  lord,  to  this  brave  town 
of  York. 
Yonder  s  the  head  of  that  arch-enemy. 
That  sought  to  be  encompass'd  with  your  crown  : 
*  Doth  not  the  object  cheer  your  heart,  my  lord  ? 

*  K.  Hen.  Ay,  as  the  rocks  cheer  them  that  fear 

their  wreck ; — 
To  see  this  sight,  it  irks  my  very  soul. — 
Withhold  revenge,  dear  God  !  'tis  not  my  fault, 
Not  wittingly  have  I  infring'd  my  vow. 

Clif.  My  gracious  liege,  this  too  much  lenity 
And  harmful  pity,  must  be  laid  aside. 
To  whom  do  lions  cast  their  gentle  looks  ? 
Not  to  the  beast  that  woujd  usurp  their  den. 


'  Why  then  it  sorts,]     Why  then  things  are  as  they  should  be. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  Greene's  Card  of  Fancy,  1608  :  "  — thy  love  shall  sort 
to  such  happy  success  as  thou  thyself  dost  seek  for."     Steevens. 


414  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n. 

Whose  hand  is  that  the  forest  bear  doth  Hck  ? 
Not  his,  that  spoils  her  young  before  her  face. 
Who  'scapes  the  lurking  serpent's  mortal  sting  ? 
Not  he,  that  sets  his  foot  upon  her  back. 
The  smallest  worm  will  turn,  being  trodden  on  ; 
'  And  doves  will  peck,  in  safeguard  ~  of  their  brood. 
Ambitious  York  did  level  at  thy  crown. 
Thou  smiling,  while  he  knit  his  angry  brows : 
He,  but  a  duke,  would  have  his  son  a  king, 
And  raise  his  issue,  like  a  loving  sire ; 
Thou,  being  a  king,  bless'd  with  a  goodly  son, 
Didst  yield  consent  to  disinherit  him, 

*  Which  argued  thee  a  most  unloving  father^. 
Unreasonable  creatures  feed  their  young  : 
And  though  man's  face  be  fearful  to  their  eyes, 
Yet,  in  protection  of  their  tender  ones, 

Who  hath  not  seen  them  (even  with  those  wings 

*  Which  sometime  they  have  us'd  with  fearful  flight,) 
Make  war  with  him  that  climb'd  unto  their  nest. 
Offering  their  own  lives  in  their  young's  defence  ? 
For  shame,  my  liege,  make  them  your  precedent ! 
Were  it  not  pity  that  this  goodly  boy 

Should  lose  his  birthright  by  his  father's  fault ; 
And  long  hereafter  say  unto  his  child, — 
What  my  great-grandfather  and  grandsire  got. 
My  careless  father  fondly  ^  gave  away  ? 
Ah,  what  a  shame  were  this  !    Look  on  the  boy  ; 
And  let  his  manly  face,  which  promiseth 
Successful  fortune,  steel  thy  melting  heart, 
To  hold  thine  own,  and  leave  thine  own  with  him. 
K.  Hen.  S\x\\  well  hath  Clifford  play'd  the  orator, 

2  —in  safeguard — ]    Thus -the  folio.     The  quartos  read  In 
rescue.     Steevens, 

3  — unloving  father.]     Th^  (\}i-A.\io^  xtViA  unnatural  father. 

Steevens. 

4  — fondly — ]     \.  e.foolishli/.     So,  in  King  Richard  II.: 

"  '         sorrow  and  grief  of  heart 

"  Makes  him  speak  ybnrf/^ — ."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  415 

Inferring  arguments  of  mighty  force. 

*  But,  Clifford,  tell  me,  didst  thou  never  hear, — 
That  things  ill  got  had  ever  bad  success  ^  .^ 
And  happy  always  was  it  for  that  son, 

Whose  father  ^  for  his  hoarding  went  to  hell  ^ 
ril  leave  my  son  my  virtuous  deeds  behind  ; 
And  'would,  my  father  had  left  me  no  more ! 
For  all  the  rest  is  held  at  such  a  rate, 

*  As  brings  a  thousand -fold  more  care  to  keep, 

*  Than  in  possession  any  jot  of  pleasure  ''. 

Ah,  cousin  York  !  'would  thy  best  friends  did  know, 

*  How  it  doth  grieve  me  that  thy  head  is  here ! 

*  Q.  Mar.  My  lord,   cheer  up  your  spirits  ;  our 
foes  are  nigh, 

*  And  this  soft  courage  makes  your  followers  faint. 
'  You  promis'd  knighthood  to  our  forward  son ; 

'  Unsheath  your  sv/ord,  and  dub  him  presently. — 
Edward,  kneel  down. 

K.  Hen.  Edward  Plantagenet,  arise  a  knight ; 
And  learn  this  lesson, — Draw  thy  sword  in  right. 

Prince.  My  gracious  father,  by  your  kingly  leave, 
I'll  draw  it  as  apparent  to  the  crown. 


5  — didst  thou  never  hear, — 
That  things  ill  got  had  ever  bad  success?  &c.]     The  proverb 
quoted  by  his  majesty  on  this  occasion,  seems  to  militate  directly 
against  his  own  argument,  and   shows  that  things  ill  got  might 
have  good  success.     M.  Mason. 

Mr.  Mason's  note  appears  to  me  to  be  founded  on  a  little  mis- 
apprehension. The  king  seems  to  me  to  quote  two  proverbs: 
the  o«e  equivalent  to  the  Latin,  male  jxtrta  cito  dilabuntur  ;  the 
other  that  referred  to  by  Dr.  Johnson  :  this  last  hf»  must  be  sup- 
posed to  quote  interrogatively  as  disputing  thi.  truth  of  it : 
•'  was  it  always  happy  for  that  son?  "  &c.  This  interpretation  sets 
the  king's  reasoning  right.     Blakeway. 

^  Whose  father,  &c.]     Alluding  to  a  common  proverb  : 
"  Happy  the  child  whose  father  went  to  the  devil." 

Johnson. 
7  Than  in  possession  any  jot  of  pleasure.]    Thus  the  folio.    The 
quarto  thus : 

"  Than  may  the  present  profit  countervaile."     Steevens. 


416  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 

And  in  that  quarrel  use  it  to  the  death. 

Clip.  Why,  that  is  spoken  like  a  toward  prince. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Royal  commanders,  be  in  readiness  : 

*  For,  with  a  band  of  thirty  thousand  ^  men, 
Comes  Warwick,  backing  of  the  duke  of  York  ; 
And,  in  the  towns  as  they  do  march  along. 
Proclaims  him  king,  and  many  fly  to  him  : 

*  Darraign  ^  your  battle,  for  they  are  at  hand. 

Clip.   I  would,  your  highness  would  depart  the 

field; 
The  queen  ^  hath  best  success  when  you  are  absent. 
Q.  Mar.  Ay,  good  my  lord,  and  leave  us  to  our 

fortune. 
K.  Hen.  Why,  that's  my  fortune  too  ;  therefore 

I'll  stay. 

8  —  thirty  thousand  — ]     The  quarto  reads  Ji/t^  thousand. 

Steevens, 

9  Darraign — ]     That  is,  Range  \o\iv  host,  put  your  host  in 
order.     Johnson, 

Chaucer,  Skelton,  and  Spenser,   use  this  word. 

Thus  also,  in  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick,  a  Tragical  History,  1661  : 

"  Darraifyji  our  battles,  and  besfin  the  fierht." 
The  quartos  read — Prepare  ijour  battle,   &c.     Steevens. 
»  I  would,  your  highness  would  depart  the  field  ; 
The  queen,  &.C.]     This  superstitious  belief,    relative  to   the 
fortunes  of  our  unhappy  prince,  is  yet  more  circumstantially  intro- 
duced by  Drayton  in  The  Miseries  of  Queen  Margaret  : 
"  Some  think  that  Warwick  had  not  lost  the  day, 
"  But  that  the  king  into  the  field  he  brought ; 
"  For  with  the  worse  that  side  went  still  away 
"  Which  had  king  Henry  with  them  when  they  fought. 
*'  Upon  his  birth  so  sad  a  curse  there  lay, 
"  As  that  he  never  prospered  in  aught. 

"  The  queen  wan  two,  among  the  loss  of  many, 
"  Her  husband  absent ;  present,  never  any." 

Steevens. 
So,  Hall  :  "  Happy  was  the  queene  in  her  two  battayls,  but 
unfortunate  was   the  king  in   al  his   enterprises  ;  for  where  his 
person    was   present,   the  victorie  fledde  ever  from    him  to  the 
other  parte."     Henry  VI.  fol.  C.     Malonb. 


sc.  11.  KING  HENRY  VI.  417 

North.  Be  it  with  resolution  then  to  fight. 

Prj.xce.  My  royal  father,  cheer  these  noble  lords. 
And  hearten  those  that  fight  in  your  defence  : 
Unsheath   your    sword,    good    father ;    cry,  Saint 
George ! 

March.       Enter    EnrrARD,     George,     Richard, 
Wartvick,  Norfolk.  Montague,  and  Soldiers. 

*  Edtv,  Now,  perjur'd  Henry !  wilt  thou  kneel 
for  grace, 

*  And  set  thy  diadem  upon  my  head ; 

*  Or  bide  the  mortal  fortune  of  the  field  ? 

Q.  Mar.  Go,   rate  thy  minions,  proud  insulting 
boy  ! 

*  Becomes  it  thee  to  be  thus  bold  in  terms, 

'  Before  thy  sovereign,  and  thy  lawful  king? 

Edtp\  I  am  his  king,   and  he  should  bow  his 
knee  ; 
I  was  adopted  heir  by  his  consent : 
Since  when,  his  oath  is  broke  " ;  for,  as  I  hear, 

^  I  am  his  king,  and  he  should  bow  his  knee  ; 
I  was  adopted  heir  by  his  consent : 

Since  when,  his  oath  is  broke;]  Edward's  argument  is 
founded  on  the  following  article  said  to  have  been  in  the  compact 
entered  into  by  Henry  and  the  Duke  of  York,  which  the  author 
found  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  but  which  I  believe  made  no  part  of 
hat  agreement :  "  Provided  alvvaye,  that  if  the  king  did  closely  or 
apertly  studye  or  go  about  to  breake  or  alter  this  agreement,  or  to 
compass  or  imagine  the  death  or  destruction  of  the  sayde  duke  or 
his  bloud,  then  he  tojhrfet  the  crotvne,  and  the  duke  of  Yorke  to  take 
it."  If  this  had  been  one  of  the  articles  of  the  compact,  the  Duke 
having  been  killed  at  Wakefield,  his  eldest  son  would  have  now 
a  title  to  the  crown.     Malone. 

"  Since  when,"  &c.  The  quartos  give  the  remainder  of  this 
speech  to  Clarence,  and  read  : 

"  To  blot  our  brother  out,"  &c.     Steevens. 

Here  is  another  variation  of  the  same  kind  with  those  which 
have  been  noticed  in  the  preceding  play,  which  could  not  have 
arisen  from  a  transcriber  or  printer. — Though  Shakspeare  gave 
the  whole  of  this  speech  to  Edward  by  substituting  me  for  brother, 
the  same  division  which  is  found  in  the  quarto,  is  inadvertently 
retained  in  the  folio.     Malone. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  E 


418  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 

You — that    are   king,    though   he    do    wear    the 

crown, — 
Have  caus'd  him,  by  new  act  of  parliament, 

*  To  blot  out  me,  and  put  his  own  son  in. 

*  Clip.  And  reason  too  ; 

Who  should  succeed  the  father,  but  the  son  ? 

*  Rich.  Are  you  there,  butcher  ? — O,  I  cannot 

speak  ! 

*  Clif.  Ay,  crook-back  ;  here  I  stand,  to  answer 

thee, 

*  Or  any  he  the  proudest  of  thy  sort. 

Rich.  'Twas  you  that  kill'd  young  Rutland,  was 

it  not  ? 
Clif.  Ay,  and  old  York,  and  yet  not  satisfied. 
Rich.  For  God's  sake,  lords,   give  signal  to  the 

fight. 
War.  What  say'st  thou,   Henry,  wilt  thou  yield 

the  crown  ? 

*  Q.  Mar.  Why,   how  now,  long-tongu'd  War- 

wick ?  dare  you  speak  ? 
When  you  and  I  met  at  Saint  Alban's  last, 
Your  legs  did  better  service  than  your  hands  ^. 
TVar.  Then  'twas  my  turn  to  fly,   and  now  'tis 

thine. 
Clif.  You  said  so  much  before,  and  yet  you  fled. 
War.   'Twas  not  your  valour,  CHffbrd,  drove  me 
thence. 

*  North.  No,  nor  your  manhood,  that  durst  make 

you  stay. 

Rich.  Northumberland,  I  hold  thee  reverently: — 
Break  off"  the  parle  ;  for  scarce  I  can  refrain 
The  execution  of  my  big-swoln  heart 
Upon  that  Clifford,  that  cruel  child-killer. 

Clif.  I  slew  thy  father :  Call'st  thou  him  a  child  ? 

3  Your  legs  did  better  service  than  your  hands.]     An  allusion 
to  the  proverb  :  "  One  pair  of  heels  is  worth  tw^o  pair  of  hands." 

Steevens. 


sc.  If.  KING  HENRY  VI.  419 

Rich.  Ay,   like  a   dastard,    and    a   treacherous 
coward. 
As  thou  didst  kill  our  tender  brother  Rutland  ; 
But,  ere  sun-set,  I'll  make  thee  curse  the  deed. 
K.  Hen.  Have  done  with  words,  my  lords,  and 

hear  me  speak. 
Q.  Mar.  Defy  them  then,  or  else  hold  close  thy 

lips. 
K.  Hen.  I  pr'ythee,  give  no  limits  to  my  tongue  ; 
I  am  a  king,  and  privileg'd  to  speak. 

Clip.  My  liege,  the  wound,  that  bred  this  meet- 
ing here. 
Cannot  be  curd  by  words  ;  therefore  be  still. 

Rich.  Then,  executioner,  unsheath  thv  sword  : 
By  him  that  made  us  all,  I  am  resolv'd^ 
*  That  Clifford's  manhood  lies  upon  his  tongue. 

*  Eorr.  Say,  Henry,  shall  I  have  my  right,  or  no  ? 
A  thousand  men  have  broke  their  fasts  to-day, 
That  ne'er  shall  dine,  unless  thou  vield  the  crown. 

JK-iR.  If  thou  deny,  their  blood  upon  thy  head; 
For  York  in  justice  puts  his  armour  on. 

*  Prince.  If  that  be  right,  which  Warwick  says  is 

right. 
There  is  no  wrong,  but  everything  is  right. 

Rich.  Whoever   got   thee  \   there   thy   mother 
stands  ; 
For,  well  I  wot,  thou  hast  thy  mother's  tongue. 
Q.  Mar.  But  thou  art  neither  like  thy  sire,  nor 
dam ; 
But  like  a  foul  mis-shapen  stigmatick  **, 

^  —  I  am  resolv'd,]  It  is  my  firm  persuasion  ;  I  am  no  longer 
in  doubt.     Johnson. 

5  Rich.  Whoever  got  thee,  &c.]  In  the  folio  this  speech  is 
erroneously  assigned  to  Warwick.  The  answer  shows  that  it  be- 
longs to  Richard,  to  whom  it  is  attributed  in  the  old  play. 

Malone. 
^  —  mis-shapen  stigmatick.]    "A  stigmatic"  says  J.  Bullo- 
kar  in  his  English  Expositor,  1616,  "  is  a  notorious  lewd  fellow, 

2e  2 


420  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n, 

Mark'd  by  the  destinies  to  be  avoided, 
As  venom  toads,  or  lizards'  dreadful  stings  ^ 

Rich.  Iron  of  Naples,  hid  with  English  gilt  ^ 
Whose  father  bears  the  title  of  a  king, 
(As  if  a  channel  should  be  calFd  the  sea  ^,) 


which  hath  been  burnt  with  a  hot  iron,  or  beareth  other  marks 
about  him  as  a  token  of  his  punishment." 

The  word  is  likewise  used  in  Drayton's  Epistle  from  Q.  Mar- 
garet to  W.  de  la  Poole  : 

"  That  foul,  ill  favour'd,  crook-back'd  stigmatick:' 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Epistle  from  King-  John  to  Matilda  : 
"  These  for  the  crook'd,  the  halt,  ihe.  stigmatick" 

Steevens. 
7  —  lizards'  dreadful  stings.]     Thus  the  folio.     The   quartos 
have  this  variation  : 

" or  WzM-^'^' Jahiting  looks." 

This  is  the  second  time  that  Shakspeare  has  armed  the  lizard 
(which  in  reality  has  no  such  defence)  with  a  sting  ;  but  great 
powers  seem  to  have  been  imputed  to  its  looks.  So,  in  Noah's 
Flood,  by  Drayton  : 

"  The  lizard  shuts  up  his  sharp-sighted  eijes, 
"  Amongst  the  serpents,  and  there  sadly  lies." 

Steevens. 
Shakspeare  is    here   answerable    for   the   introduction    of  the 
lizard's  sting;  but  in  a  preceding  passage,  p.  271,  the  author  of 
the  old  play  has  fallen  into  the  same  mistake.     Malone, 
^  —  gdt,]      Gilt  is  a  siiperjicial  covering  of  gold. 
So,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  are  all  besmirch 'd."  Steevens. 
9  —  (As  if  a  channel  should  be  call'd  the  sea,)]  A  chmmel, 
in  our  author's  time,  signified  what  we  now  call  a  kennel.  So,  in 
Stowe's  Chronicle,  quarto,  1605,  p.  114-8  :  "  —  such  a  storme  of 
raine  happened  at  London,  as  the  like  of  long  time  could  not  be 
remembered ;  where-through,  the  channels  of  the  citie  suddenly 
rising,"  &c.  Agmn,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. :  "  —  quoit  him 
into  the  channel."     Malone. 

Kennel  is  still  pronounced  channel  in  the  North.     So,  in  Mar- 
lowe's Edward  II.  : 

"  Throw  ofl*  his  golden  mitre,  rend  his  stole, 
"  And  in  the  cAawwe/ christen  him  anew." 
Again  : 

"  Here's  channel  water,  as  our  charge  is  given." 
Again  : 

"  To  which  the  channels  of  the  castle  run."     Ritson. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  421 

*  Sham'st  thou  not,  knowing  whence  thou  art  ex- 

traught, 

*  To  let  thy  tongue  detect  ^  thy  base-born  heart  ? 

Edjf.  a  wisp  of  straw  ~  were  worth  a  thousand 
crowns, 

^  To  let  thy  tongue  detect — ]  To  show  thy  meanness  of  hirth 
by  the  indecency  of  language  with  v.-hich  thou  railest  at  my  de- 
formity.    Johnson. 

"To  let  thy  tongue  detect  thy  base-born  heart?"  So  the 
folio.     The  quartos  : 

"  To  ])arly  thus  with  England's  lawful  heirs."    Steevens. 
'  A  wisp  of  straw — ]     I  suppose,   for  an  instrument  of  correc- 
tion that  might  disgrace,  but  not  hurt  her.     Johnson. 

I  believe  that  a  insp  signified  some  instrument  of  correction 
used  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare.  The  following  instance  seems 
to  favour  the  supposition.  See  A  Woman  Never  Ve.^ed,  a  comedy 
by  Rowley,  163^2  : 

"  Nay,  worse  ;  I'll  stain  thy  ruff;  nay,  worse  than  that, 
"  rU  do  thus —  \_Holds  tip  a  imp. 

"  —  dost  tasp  me  thou  tatterdemallion  ?  " 
Again,  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtezan,  1601 : 
"  Thou  little  more  than  a  dwarf,  and  soraeihing  less  than   a 
woman  ! 

"  Cris.  A  ivispe  !  a  xmspe  !  a  ivispe  !  " 
Barrett,  in  his  Alvearie,  or  Quadruple  Dictionary,  1.530,  inter- 
prets the  word  tvispe  by  pcniculus  or  aTio-^yog,  which  signify  any 
thing  to  wipe  or  cleanse  with  ;  a  cook's  linen  apron,  &c.  Pewter 
is  still  scoured  by  a  tvispe  of  stran.\  or  kaj/.  Perhaps  Edward 
means  one  of  these  wisps,  as  the  denotement  of  a  menial  servant. 
Barrett  adds,  that,  like  a  xvasc,  it  signifies  "  a  wreath  to  be  laied 
under  the  vessel  that  is  borne  uoon  the  head,  as  women  use."  If 
this  be  its  true  sense,  the  Prince  may  think  that  such  aiDi.y;  would 
better  become  the  head  of  Margaret,  than  a  crown. 

It  appears,  however,  from  the  following  passage  in  Thomas 
Drant's  translation  of  the  seventh  satire  of  Horace^  1567,  that  a 
ivispe  was  the  punishment  of  a  scold  : 

"  So  perfyte   and  exacte  a  scoulde  that  women  mighte  geve 

place 
"  Whose  tatling  tongues  had  won  a  tvispe,"  &c.  Steevens. 
See  also,  Nashe's  Apology  of  Pierce  Pennilesse,  1593  :  "  Why, 
thou  errant  butter-whore,  thou  cotquean  and  scrattop  of  scolds, 
wilt  thou  never  leave  afflicting  a  dead  carcasse?  continually  read 
the  rhetorick  lecture  of  Ramme-Alley  ?  a  ivispe,  a  ivispe,  you 
kitchen-stuife  wrangler."  Again,  in  A  Dialogue  between  John  and 


422  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 

To  make  this  shameless  callet  know  herself^. — 
*■  Helen  of  Greece  was  fairer  far  than  thou, 

*  Although  thy  husband  may  be  Menelaus  *  ; 

*  And  ne'er  was  Agamemnon's  brother  wrong'd 
^  By  that  false  woman,  as  this  king  by  thee. 

'  His  father  revell'd  in  the  heart  of  France, 

And  tam'd  the  king,  and  made  the  Dauphin  stoop  ; 

And,  had  he  match'd  according  to  his  state, 

He  might  have  kept  that  glory  to  this  day : 

But,  when  he  took  a  beggar  to  his  bed, 

And  grac'd  thy  poor  sire  with  his  bridal  day ; 

*  Even  then  that  sunshine  brew'd  a  shower  for  him, 
'  That  wash'd  his  father's  fortunes  forth  of  France, 

Jone,    Striving  Who   Shall  Wear  the  Breeches, — Pleasures  of 
Poetry,  bl.  1.  no  date  : 

"  Good  gentle  Jone,  vvith-holde  thy  hands, 

"  This  once  let  me  entreat  thee, 
"  And  make  me  promise,  never  more 

"  That  thou  shalt  mind  to  beat  me  ; 
"  For  feare  tliou  weave  the  rvispe,  good  wife, 

"  And  make  our  neighbours  ride — ."     Malone. 
3  To  make   this  shameless  callet  know  herself.]     Shakspeare 
uses  the  word  callet  likewise  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  Act  II.  Sc.  III.: 
"  A  cnllat 

"  Of  boundless  tongue;  who  late  hath  beat  her  husband, 
"  And  now  baits  me." 
Callet,   a  leivd   woman,  a  drab,   perhaps  so  called    from    the 
French  calote,  which  was  a  sort  of  head-dress  worn  by  country 
girls.       See    Glossary   to    Urry's    Chaucer.      So,    in    Chaucer's 
Remedy  of  Love,  v.  307  : 

"  A  cold  old  knave  cuckolde  himself  wenyng, 
"  And  oi  calot  of  lewd  demenyng." 
So,  Skelton,  in  his  Elinour  Rumming,  Works,  p.  133  : 
"  Then  Elinour  said,  ye  callettes, 
"  I  shall  break  your  palettes." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Volpone  : 

"  Why  the  callet  you  told  me  of  here, 
"  I  have  tane  disguis'd."     Gkey. 
4  Menelaus  ;]     i.  e.  a  cuckold.     So,   in  Troilus  and  Cressida, 
Thersites,  speaking  of  Menelaus,  calls  him  "  —  the  goodly  trans- 
formation of  Jupiter  there,  — the  primitive  statue  and  oblique  me- 
morial of  cuckolds."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  423 

And  heap'd  sedition  on  his  crown  at  home. 

*  For  what  hath  broach'd  this  tumult  \    but    thy 

pride  ? 
Hadst  thou  been  meek,  our  title  still  had  slept ; 
And  we,  in  pity  of  the  gentle  king, 
Had  slipp'd  our  claim  until  another  age. 

'  Gjeo.  But,  when  we  saw  our  sunshine  made  thy 
spring, 
'  And  that  thy  summer  bred  us  no  increase  ^, 
We  set  the  axe  to  thy  usurping  root : 
And  though  the  edge  hath  something  hit  ourselves, 
'  Yet,  know  thou,  since  we  have  begun  to  strike, 
'  We'll  never  leave,  till  we  have  hewn  thee  down. 
Or  bath'd  thy  growing  with  our  heated  bloods. 

Enir.  And,  in  this  resolution,  I  defy  thee ; 
Not  wiUing  any  longer  conference. 
Since  thou  deny'st  the  gentle  king  to  speak. — 
Sound  trumpets  ! — let  our  bloody  colours  wave  ! — 
And  either  victory,  or  else  a  grave. 

Q.  M.^ii.  Stay,  Edward. 

Enir.  No,   wrangling  woman  ;  we'll  no  longer 
stay : 
These  words  will  cost  ten  thousand  lives  to-day. 

[^E.veimf, 

5  — hatli  broach'd   this   tumult,]     The  quarto  reads,  "hath. 
nzouW  this,"  &c.     Steevens, 

^  —  we  saw  our  sunshine  made  thy  spring, 
And  that  thy  summer  bred  us  no  increase,]  When  we  saw 
that  by  favouring  thee  we  made  thee  grow  in  fortune,  but  that  we 
received  no  advantage  from  thy  fortune  flourishing  by  our  favour, 
we  then  resolved  to  destroy  thee,  and  determined  to  try  some 
other  means,  though  our  first  efforts  have  failed.  Johnson. 
The  quartos  read  ; 

"  But  when  we  saw  our  summer  brought  thee  gain, 
"  And  that  the  harvest  brought  us  no  increase." 

Steevens. 


424  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 


SCENE  III. 

A  Field  of  Battle '  between  Towton  and  Saxton  in 

Yorkshire. 

Alarums:  E.vcurs'ions,     Enter  WARTncK. 

'  War.  Forspent  with  toil  ^,   as  runners  with   a 
race;, 

7  A  Field  of  Battle,  &.C.]  We  should  read  near  Towton.  Shak- 
peare  has  here,  perhaps,  intentionally  thrown  three  different 
actions  into  one.  The  Lord  Kitzwater,  being  stationed  by  King 
Edward,  to  defend  the  pass  of  Ferrybridge,  was  assaulted  by  the 
Lord  Clifford,  and  immediately  slain,  "  and  with  hym,"  says 
Hall,  "  the  bastard  of  Salisbury,  brother  to  the  earl  ofWarwycke, 
a  valeaunt  yong  gentleman,  and  of  great  audacitie.  When  the 
earl  of  Warvvicke,"  adds  he,  "  was  informed  of  this  feate,  he  lyke 
a  man  desperated,  mounted  on  his  hackeney,  and  came  blowing 
to  kyng  Edwarde,  saiyng :  Syr,  I  praye  God  have  mercy  of  their 
soules,  which  in  the  beginning  of  your  enterprise  hath  lost  their 
lyfes,  and  because  I  se  no  succors  of  the  world,  I  remit  the  venge- 
ance and  punishment  to  God  our  creator  and  Redeemer ;  and 
with  that  lighted  doune,  and  slewe  his  horse  with  his  swourde, 
saying  :  let  them  flye  that  wyl,  for  surely  I  wil  tarye  with  him 
that  wil  tarye  with  me,  and  kissed  the  crosse  of  his  swourde." 
Clifford,  in  his  retreat,  was  beset  with  a  party  of  Yorkists,  when 
*'  eyther,"  says  the  historian,  "  for  heat  or  payne,  putting  oft"  his 
gorget,  sodainly  with  an  arrowe  (as  some  say)  without  an  hedde 
[he]  was  striken  into  the  throte,  and  incontinent  rendered  his 
spirite,  and  the  erle  of  Westmerlandes  brother,  and  almost  all  his 
company  were  thare  slayn,  at  a  place  called  Dinting-dale,  not 
farr  fro  Towton."  In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  (Palm  Sunday 
eve  1461)  on  a  plain  field  between  Towton  and  Saxton,  joined 
the  main  battles  which  continued  engaged  that  night,  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  following  day  :  upwards  of  30,000  men,  all 
English  (including  many  of  the  nobility  and  the  flower  of  the 
gentry,  especially  of  the  northern  parts)  being  slain  on  both  sides. 
This  battle,  says  Carte,  "  decided  the  fate  of  the  house  of 
Lancaster,  overturning  in  one  day  an  usurpation  strengthened  by 
sixty-two  years  continuance,  and  established  Edward  on  the  throne 
of  England."     Ritson. 

An  authentick  copy  of  King  Edward's  account  of  this  battle, 
together  with  a  list  of  the  noblemen  and  knights  who  were  slain 
in  it,  may  be  seen  in  Sir  John  Fenn's  Collection  of  the  Fasten 
Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  216,  &c.     Henley. 

*  Forspent  with  toil,]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quartos  read— 
Sore  spent,  &c,     Steevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  425 

I  lay  me  down  a  little  while  to  breathe : 
For  strokes  receiv'd,  and  many  blows  repaid, 
Have  robb'd  my  strong-knit  sinews  of  their  strength, 

*  And,  spite  of  spite  ^,  needs  must  I  rest  awhile. 

Enter  Edtfard,  running. 

Rdw.  Smile,  gentle  heaven  ^ !  or  strike,  ungentle 
death ! 

*  For  this  world  frowns,  and  Edward's  sun  is  clouded. 

If  AR.  How  now,  my  lord?  what  hap.^  what  hope 
of  good  .^ 

Enter  George. 

*  Geo.  Our  hap  is  loss,  our  hope  but  sad  despair  ^ ; 

*  Our  ranks  are  broke,  and  ruin  follows  us : 

*  What  counsel  give  you,  whither  shall  we  fly  ? 

*  EoTr.  Bootless  is  flight,   they  follow  us  with 

wings  ; 

*  And  weak  we  are,  and  cannot  shun  pursuit. 

9  And,  SPITE  OF  SPITE,]      So,  in  King  John  : 

"  And,  spite  of  spite,  alone  holds  up  the  day."   Steevens. 
'  Smile,    gentle   heaven !  &c.]     Thus    the   folio.     Instead  of 
these  lines,  the  quartos  give  the  following  : 

"  Smile,  gentle  heavens,  or  strike,  ungentle  death, 
*'  That  we  may  die  unless  we  gain  the  day  ! 
*'  What  fatal  star  malignant  frowns  from  heaven 
"  Upon  the  harmless  line  of  York's  true  house  !  " 

Steevens. 
*  Our  hap  is  loss,  &c.]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 
"  Come,  brother,  come,  let's  to  the  field  again, 
"  For  yet  there's  hope  enough  to  win  the  day  : 
*'  Then  let  us  back  to  cheer  our  fainting  troops, 
"  Lest  they  retire  now  we  have  left  the  field. 

"  War.  How  now,  my  lords?  what  hap?  what  hope  of  good?" 

Steevens. 
*'  Our  hap  is  loss,  our  hope  but  sad  despair  i''   Milton  seems  to 
have  copied  this  line  : 

" Thus  repuls'd,  our  final  hope 

"  Is  Jlat  despair."     Malonk, 


426  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 

Enter  Richard. 

*  Rich.  Ah,  Warwick,  why  hast  thou  withdrawn 
thyself  ? 
*  Thy  brother's  blood  the  thirsty  earth  hath  drunk  ^, 

3  Thy  brother's  blood  the  thirsty  earth  hath  drunk,]  This  pas- 
sage, from  the  variation  of  the  copies,  gave  me  no  little  perplexity. 
The  old  quarto  applies  this  description  to  the  death  of  Salisbury, 
Warwick's  father.  But  this  was  a  notorious  deviation  from  the 
truth  of  history.  For  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  in  the  battle  at  Wake- 
field, wherein  Richard  Duke  of  York  lost  his  life,  was  taken 
prisoner,  beheaded  at  Pomfret,  and  his  head,  together  with  the 
Duke  of  York's,  fixed  over  York  gates.  Then  the  only  brother  of 
Warwick,  introduced  in  this  \A^y,  is  the  Marquess  of  Montacute 
(or  Montague,  as  he  is  called  by  our  author)  :  but  he  does  not 
die  till  ten  years  after,  in  the  battle  at  Barnet ;  where  Warwick 
likewise  was  killed.  The  truth  is,  the  brother  here  mentioned  is 
no  person  in  the  drama,  and  his  death  is  only  an  accidental  piece 
of  history.  Consulting  the  Chronicles,  upon  this  action  at  Ferry- 
bridge, 1  find  him  to  have  been  a  natural  son  of  Salisbury,  (in 
that  respect  a  brother  to  Warwick,)  and  esteemed  a  valiant  young 
gentleman.     Theobald. 

"  Thy  brother's  blood,"  8cc.  Instead  of  this  speech,  which  is 
printed,  like  almost  all  the  rest  of  the  play,  from  the  folio,  the 
quartos  give  the  following  : 

"  Thy  nohXo.  Jcither  in  the  thickest  throngs 

"  Cried  still  for  Warwick,  his  thrice  valiant  son  ; 

"  Until  with  thousand  swords  he  was  beset, 

"  And  many  wounds  made  in  his  aged  breast. 

"  And,  as  he  tottering  sat  upon  his  steed, 

"  He  waft  his  hand  to  me,  and  cried  aloud, 

"  Richard,  commend  me  to  my  valiant  son  : 

"  And  still  he  cried,  Warwick,  revenge  my  death  ! 

"  And  with  these  words  he  tumbled  off  his  horse  ; 

"  And  so  the  noble  Salisbury  gave  up  the  ghost." 

Steevens. 
It  is  here  only  necessary  to  refer  to  former  notes  on  similar  va- 
riations. 

"  Thy  brother's  blood  the  thirsty  earth  hath  drunk."  In  this 
line,  of  which  there  is  no  trace  in  the  original  play,  Shakspeare 
had  probably  the  sacred  writings  in  his  thoughts  :  "  And  now  art 
thou  cursed  from  the  earth,  which  hath  opened  her  mouth  to  re- 
ceive thi/  brother's  blood."     Genesis,  iv.  1 1 . 

The  old  play  (as  Theobald  has  observed)  applies  this  descrip- 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  427 

*  Broach'd  with  the  steely  point  of  Clifford's  lance : 

*  And,  in  the  very  pangs  of  death,  he  cried, — 

*  Like  to  a  dismal  clangor  heard  from  far, — 

*  Warwick,  revenge  I  brother,  revenge  my  death  I 

*  So  underneath  the  belly  of  their  steeds, 

*  That  stain'd  their  fetlocks  in  his  smoking  blood, 

*  The  noble  gentleman  gave  up  the  ghost. 

*  IF^R.  Then  let  the  earth  be  drunken  with  our 
blood : 
I'll  kill  my  horse,  because  I  will  not  fly  "*. 

*  Why  stand  we  like  soft-hearted  women  here, 

*  Wailing  our  losses,   whiles  the  foe  doth  rage ; 

*  And  look  upon  ^,  as  if  the  tragedy 

*  Were  play'd  in  jest  by  counterfeiting  actors  ? 

tion  to  the  death  of  Salisbury,  Warwick's  father,  contrary  to  the 
truth  of  history,  for  that  nobleman  was  taken  prisoner  at  the 
battle  of  Wakefield,  and  "afterwards  beheaded  at  Pomfret.  But 
both  Hall  and  Holinshed,  in  nearly  the  same  words,  relate  the 
circumstance  on  which  this  speech,  as  exhibited  in  the  folio,  is 
founded ;  and  from  the  latter  our  author  undoubtedly  took  it. 
"  The  Lord  Fitzwalter  [who  had  been  stationed  to  keep  the  pass 
of  Ferrybridge]  hearing  the  noise,  [made  by  Lord  Clifford  and  a 
body  of  light-horsemen,  who  attacked  by  surprize  the  party  sta- 
tioned at  the  bridge,]  sodainly  rose  out  of  his  bedde,  and  unarmed, 
with  a  pollax  in  his  hande,  thinking  that  it  had  bin  a  fraye  amongst 
his  men,  came  down  to  appease  the  same,  but  ere  he  knew 
what  the  matter  meant,  he  was  slaine,  and  with  him  the  bastard 
of  Salisbury,  brother  to  the  eiie  of  JVarwick,  a  valiant  young 
gentleman,  and  of  great  audacitie."  Holinshed,  p.  664.  In  this 
action  at  Ferrybridge,  which  happened  on  the  2Sth  of  March, 
1461,  the  day  before  the  great  buttle  of  Towton,  Lord  Clifford 
was  killed.  The  author  of  this  play  has  blended  the  two  actions 
together.     Malone. 

*  I'll  kill  my  horse,  &c.]     So,  in  The  Miseries  of  Queen  Mar- 
garet, by  Drayton  : 

"  Resolv'd  to  win,  or  bid  the  world  adieu  : 

*'  Which  spoke,  the  earl  his  sprightly  courser  slew." 

Again,  in  Daniel's  Civil  Wars,  b.  viii.  st.  xiii. 

From  Hall,  Henry  ^T.  p.  102.     See  p.  424,  n.  7.     Steevens. 

5  And  LOOK   UPON,]     And  are  mere  spectators.     So,  in  The 
Winter's  Tale,  vol.  xiv.  p.  379,  n.  9: 

"  Hides  not  his  visage  from  our  cottage,  but 
"  Looks  on  alike."     Malone. 


428  THIRD  PAUT  OF  act  ii, 

*  Here  on  my  knee  I  vow  to  God  above, 

*  I'll  never  pause  again,   never  stand  still, 

*  Till  either  death  hath  clos'd  these  eyes  of  mine, 

*  Or  fortune  given  me  measure  of  revenge. 

Ebw.  O  Warwick,    I   do  bend  my  knee   with 
thine  ; 

*  And,  in  this  vow,  do  chain  my  soul  to  thine  ^. — 

*  And,  ere  my  knee  rise  from  the  earth's  cold  face, 

*  I  throw  my  hands,  mine  eyes,  my  heart  to  thee. 
Thou  setter  up  and  plucker  down  of  kings  ! 

*  Beseeching  thee  ", — if  with  thy  will  it  stands, 

*  That  to  my  foes  this  body  must  be  prey, — 

*  Yet  that  thy  brazen  gates  of  heaven  may  ope, 

*  And  give  sweet  passage  to  my  sinful  soul ! — 

*  Now,  lords,  take  leave  until  \ve  meet  again, 
Where-e'er  it  be,  in  heaven,  or  on  earth. 

*  Rich.  Brother,  give  me  thy  hand  ; — and,  gentle 
Warwick, 


"  And,  in  this  vow,  do  chain  my  soul  to  thine.]  Thus  the 
folio.     The  quarto  as  follows  : 

*'  And  in  tliat  vow  noivjoin  mv  soul  to  thee."     Steevens. 
7  Beseeching  thee,]     That  is,   beseeching  the  divine  power. 
Shakspeare  in  new-forming  this  speech  may  seem,  at  the  first 
view  of  it,  to  have  made  it  obscure,  by  placing  this  line  immedi- 
ately after — "  Thou  setter  up,"  8:c. 

What  I  have  now  observed  is  founded  on  a  supposition  that  the 
words  "Thou  setter  up,"  &c.  are  applied  to  Warwick,  as  they 
appear  to  be  in  the  old  play.  However,  our  author  certainly  in- 
tended to  deviate  from  it,  and  to  apply  this  description  to  the 
Deity  ;  and  this  is  another  strong  confirmation  of  the  observation 
already  made  relative  to  the  variations  between  these  pieces  and 
the  elder  dramas  on  which  they  were  formed.  In  the  old  play  the 
speech  runs  thus  : 

"  Lord  W^arwick,   I  do  bend  my  knees  with  thine, 
"  And  in  that  vow  now  join  my  soul  to  thee, 
"  Thou  setter-up  and  puller-down  of  kings —  : 
"  Vouchsafe  a  general  victory  to  us, 
*'  Or  let  us  die  before  we  lose  the  day  !  " 
The  last  two  lines  are  certainly  here   addressed  to  the  Deity  ; 
but  the  preceding  line,  notwithstanding  the  anachronism,  seems 
to  be  addressed  to  Warwick.     Malonb. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  429 

*  Let  me  embrace  thee  in  my  weary  arms  : — 

'  I,  that  did  never  weep,  now  melt  with  woe, 

*  That  winter  sliould  cut  off  our  spring-time  so. 

*  War.  Away,  away !   Once  more,   sweet  lords, 

farewell. 
'  Geo.  Yet  let  us  all  together  to  our  troops, 

*  And  give  them  leave  to  fly  that  will  not  stay ; 
And  call  them  pillars,   that  will  stand  to  us ; 

*  And,  if  we  thrive,   promise  them  such  rewards 

*  As  victors  wear  at  the  Olympian  games  : 

*  This  may  plant  courage  in  their  quailing^  breasts; 

*  For  yet  is  hope  of  life,  and  victory. — 

*  Fore-slow  no  longer  ■*,  make  we  hence  amain  \ 

[Exeunt. 

8  — quailing — ]     i.  e.  sinking  into  dejection.     So,  in  Cymbe- 
line  : 

" my  false  spirits 

"  Qiiail  to  remember —  :  "     Steevens. 

9  Fore-slow  no  longer,]     To  fore-sloiv  is  to  be  dilatory,   to 
loiter.     So,  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar,  1594': 

*'  Why,  king  Sebastian,  wilt  thou  now  Jbresloto?" 
Again,  in  Marlowe's  Edward  II.  1598  : 

"  Forcslotv  no  time;  sweet  Lancaster,  let's  march." 
Again,  in  Promos  and  Cassandra,   1578  : 

"  Good  knight,  for  time  do  not  my  smtjbreslow." 

Steevens. 
*  — make  we  hence  amain.]     Instead  of  this  and  the  two  pre- 
ceding speeches,  we  have  in  the  old  play  the  following : 

"  Geo.  Then  let  us  haste  to  cheare  the  souldiers'  hearts, 
"  And  call  them  pillers  that  will  stand  to  us, 
*'  And  highly  promise  to  remunerate 
"  Their  trustie  service  in  these  dangerous  warres. 

"  Rich.  Come,  come  away,  and  stand  not  to  debate, 
"  For  yet  is  hope  of  fortune  good  enough. 
"  Brothers,  give  me  your  handes,  and  let  us  part, 
"  And  take  our  leaves  untill  we  meete  againe  ; 
"  Where  ere  it  be,  in  heaven  or  in  earth, 
"  Now  I  that  never  wept,  now  melt  in  woe, 
"  To  see  these  dire  mishaps  continue  so. 
"  Warwick^  farewell." 

"  IFar.  Away,  away;  once  more,  sweet  lords,  farewell," 

Malone. 


430  THIRD  PART  OF  actii. 

SCENE  IV. 
The  Same.     Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Excursions.     Enter  Richard  and  Clifford. 

*  Rich.  Now,  Clifford,  I  have  singled  thee  alone^: 

*  Suppose,  this  arm  is  for  the  duke  of  York, 

*  And  this  for  Rutland  ;  both  bound  to  revenge, 

*  Wert  thou  environ'd  with  a  brazen  wall  ''\ 

Clif.  Now,  Richard,  I  am  with  thee  here  alone: 
This  is  the  hand,   that  stabb'd  thy  father  York; 
And  this  the  hand  that  slew  thy  brother  Rutland ; 
And  here's  the  heart,  that  triumphs  in  their  death. 
And  cheers  these  hands,   that  slew  thy  sire   and 

brother, 
To  execute  the  like  upon  thyself ; 
And  so,  have  at  thee. 

[They  fight.     TVARiricK  enters  ;  Clifford 
flies. 
*  Rich.  Nay,  Warwick  ^  single  out  some  other 
chase  ; 

*  For  I  myself  will  hunt  this  wolf  to  death. 

\Exeunt, 

*  Now,   Clifford,  I  have  singled  thee  alone,  &c.]     Thus  the 
folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 

"■  Now,  Clifford,  for  York  and  young  Rutland's  death, 
"  This  thirsty  sword,  that  longs  to  drink  thy  blood, 
"  Shall  lop  thy  limbs,  and  slice  thy  cursed  heart, 
"  For  to  revenge  the  murders  thou  hast  made."    Steevens. 
3  Wert  thou  environ'd  with  a  brazen  wall.]     So,  in  the  second 
Thebaid  of  Statius,  v.  453  : 

non  si  te  ferreus  agger 

Ambiat — .     Steevens. 

*  Nay,  Warwick,  &c.]     ^Ve  have  had  two  very  similar  lines  in 
the  preceding  play,  p.  349  : 

"  Hold,  Warwick,  seek  thee  out  some  other  chace  ; 
"  For  I  myself  must  hunt  this  deer  to  death," 
See  p.  4-51,  n.  2.     Malone. 

These  words,  in  the  former  instance,  are  spoken  of  Clifford's 
father  by  Richard's  father.     Bo  swell. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  431 

SCENE  V. 

Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Alarum.     Enter  King  Henry. 
^  K.  Hen.  This  battle  fares  like  to  the  morning's 
war  ^, 

*  When  dying  clouds  contend  with  growing  Hght ; 

*  What  time  the  shepherd,  blowing  of  his  nails  ^ 

5  This  battle  fares  like  to  the  morning's  war,   &c.]     Instead  of 
this  interesting  speech,  the  quartos  exhibit  only  the  following  : 
"  O  gracious  God  of  heaven,  look  down  on  us, 
"  And  set  some  ends  to  these  incessant  griefs  ! 
"  How  like  a  mastless  ship  upon  the  seas, 
"  This  woeful  battle  doth  continue  still, 
"  Now  leaning  this  way,  now  to  that  side  driven, 
"  And  none  doth  know  to  whom  the  day  will  fall. 
"  Oh,  would  my  death  might  stay  these  at;// f  jars  ! 
*'  Would  I  had  never  reign'd,   nor  ne'er  been  king  ! 
"  Margaret  and  Clifford  chide  me  from  the  field, 
"  Swearing  they  had  best  success  when  I  was  thence, 
"  Would  God  that  I  were  dead,  so  all  were  well ; 
"  Or,  would  my  crown  suffice,   I  were  content 
"  To  yield  it  them,  and  live  a  private  life  !  " 
The  leading  thought  in  both  these  soliloquies  is  borrowed  from 
Holinshed,  p.  6Q5  : — "  This  deadly  conflict  continued   ten  hours 
in  doubtful  state  of  victorie,   uncertainlie  heaving  and  setting  on 
both  sides,"  &c. 

Virgil,  however,  Mn.  lib.  x.  v.  354,  has  a  similar  comparison  : 

' Expellere  tendunt 

Nunc  hi,  nunc  illi :  certatur  limine  in  ipso 
Ausonise.     Magno  discordes  aethere  venti 
Praelia  ceu  toUunt,  animis  et  viribus  aequis  : 
Non  ipsi  inter  se,  non  nubila,  non  mare  cedunt ; 
Anceps  pugna  diu :  stant  obnixi  omnia  contra,  &c. 
This  simile,  however,  originates  with  Homer ;  Iliad,  xiv. 

Steevens. 
^  —  the  shepherd,  blowing  of  his  nails,]     So,  in  Love's  La- 
bour's Lost : 

"  When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 

"  And  Dick  the  shepherd  bloxvs  his  nail — ."     Malone. 


t    The  quarto,  160,  printed  by  W.  W.  reads— crM^/jare. 


432  THIRD  PART  OF  act  lu 

*  Can  neither  call  it  perfect  day,  nor  night. 

*  Now  sways  it  this  way,  like  a  mighty  sea, 

*  Forc'd  by  the  tide  to  combat  with  the  wind : 

*  Now  sways  it  that  way,  like  the  self-same  sea 

*  Forc'd  to  retire  by  fury  of  the  wind  : 

*  Sometime,  the  flood  prevails;  and  then,  the  wind; 

*  Now,  one  the  better,  then,  another  best ; 

*  Both  tugging  to  be  victors,  breast  to  breast^, 
'  Yet  neither  conqueror,  nor  conquered : 

*  So  is  the  equal  poise  of  this  fell  war. 

*  Here  on  this  molehill  v/ill  I  sit  me  down. 

*  To  whom  God  will,  there  be  the  victory ! 
'  For  Margaret  my  queen,  and  Clifford  too, 

*  Have  chid  me  from  the  battle  ;  swearing  both, 

*  They  prosper  best  of  all  when  I  am  thence. 

*  'Would  I  were  dead  !  if  God's  good  will  were  so  : 

*  For  what  is  in  this  world,  but  grief  and  woe  ^ 

*  O  God !  methinks,  it  were  a  happy  life  ^, 

*  To  be  no  better  than  a  homely  swain  : 

*  To  sit  upon  a  hill,  as  I  do  now, 

*  To  carve  out  dials  quaintly,  point  by  point, 

*  Thereby  to  see  the  minutes  how  they  run  : 

*  How  many  make  the  hour  full  complete  ^, 

*  How  many  hours  bring  about  the  day, 
^  How  many  days  will  finish  up  the  year, 

7  Both  TUGGING  to  be  victors,  breast  to  breast,]  Hence,  per- 
haps, the  vulgarism  that  gives  such  acknowledged  force  to  the 
following  line  in  Lee's  Rival  Queens  : 

"  When  Greeks  join'd  Greeks,  then  was  the  tug  of  war." 

Steevens. 

8  —  methinks,  it  were  a  happy  life,]  This  speech  is  mournful 
and  soft,  exquisitely  suited  to  the  character  of  the  King,  and 
makes  a  pleasing  interchange,  by  affording,  amic^stthe  tumult  and 
horror  of  the  battle,  an  unexpected  glimpse  of  rural  innocence 
and  pastoral  tranquillity.     Johnson. 

This  speech  strongly  confirms  the  remark  made  by  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  on  a  passage  in  Macbeth,  vol.  xi.  p.  69,  n.  3.  Malone. 

9  Thereby  to  see  the  minutes  how  they  run  : 

How  many  make  the  hour  full  complete,]     So,  in  our 
author's  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  Stuff  up  his  lust,  as  minutes  Jill  up  hours.'"     Malonk. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  433 

"*  How  many  years  a  mortal  man  may  live. 

*  When  this  is  known,  then  to  divide  the  times  : 

*  So  many  hours  must  I  tend  my  flock ; 

*  So  many  hours  must  I  take  my  rest ; 

*  So  many  hours  must  I  contemplate; 

*  So  many  hours  must  I  sport  myself; 

*  So  many  days  my  ewes  have  been  with  young  ; 

*  So  many  weeks  ere  the  poor  fools  will  yean  '  ; 

*  So  many  years  ere  I  shall  sheer  the  fleece  '^ : 

*  So  minutes,  hours,   days,  weeks  ^   months  and 

years, 

*  Pass'd  over  to  the  end  they  were  created, 

*  Would  bring  white  hairs  unto  a  quiet  grave. 

*  Ah,  what  a  life  were  this !  how  sweet !  how  lovely! 

*  Gives  not  the  hawthorn  bush  a  sweeter  shade 

*  To  shepherds,  looking  on  their  silly  sheep, 

*  Than  doth  a  rich  embroider'd  canopy 

*  To  kings  that  fear  their  subjects'  treachery  ? 

*  O,  yes  it  doth  ;  a  thousand  fold  it  doth. 

*  And  to  conclude, — the  shepherd's  homely  curds, 

*  His  cold  thin  drink  out  of  his  leather  bottle, 

*  His  wonted  sleep  under  a  fresh  tree's  shade, 

*  All  which  secure  and  sweetly  he  enjoys, 

*  Is  far  beyond  a  prince's  delicates, 

*=  His  viands  sparkling  in  a  golden  cup, 

*  His  body  couched  in  a  curious  bed, 

'  —  ere  the  poor  fools  will  yean  ;]  Poor  fool,  it  has  already 
been  observed,  is  an  expression  of  tenderness,  often  used  by  our 
author.     Malone. 

So,  in  King  Lear,  Scene  the  last : 

"  And  my  poor  fool  is  hang'd." 

See  notes  on  this  passage,  vol.  x.  p.  283,  n.  8.     Steevens. 

^  So  many  years  ere  I  shai'  sheer  the  fleece  :]  i.  e.  the  years 
which  must  elapse  between  the  time  of  the  yeaning  of  the  ewes, 
and  the  lambs  arriving  to  such  a  state  as  to  admit  of  being  shorn. 
Mr.  Rowe  changed  years  to  months  ;  which  was  followed  by  the 
subsequent  editors.     Malone. 

3  So  minutes,  hours,  days,  weeks,]  The  word  iveeks  is  not  in 
the  old  copy,  hut  was  inserted  by  Mr.  Rowe.     Malone. 

VOL.  XYIII.  2  F 


434  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n. 

*  When  care,  mistrust,  and  treason  wait  on  him. 

Alarum.     Enter  a  Son  that  has  killed  his  Father"^, 
dragging  in  the  dead  Body. 

Son.  Ill  blows  the  wind,  that  profits  no'body. — 

*  This  man  whom  hand  to  hand  I  slew  in  fight, 

*  May  be  possessed  with  some  store  of  crowns : 

*  And  I,  that  haply  take  them  from  him  now, 

*  May  yet  ere  night  yield  both  my  life  and  them 

*  To  some  man  else,  as  this  dead  man  doth  me. — 

*  Who's  this  ? — O  God !  it  is  my  father's  face, 

*  Whom  in  this  conflict  I  unawares  have  kill'd. 

*  O  heavy  times,  begetting  such  events  ! 

*  From  London  by  the  king  was  I  press'd  forth  ; 

*  My  father,  being  the  earl  of  Warwick's  man, 

*  Came  on  the  part  of  York,  press'd  by  his  master ; 

*  And  I,  who  at  his  hands  receiv'd  my  life, 

*  Have  by  my  hands  of  life  bereaved  him. — 

*  Pardon  me,  God,  I  knew  not  what  I  did ! — 
And  pardon,  father,  for  I  knew  not  thee  ! — 

*  My  tears  shall  wipe  away  these  bloody  marks ; 

*  And  no  more  words,  till  they  have  flow'd  their  fill. 

*  K.  Hen.  O  piteous  spectacle  ^ !  O  bloody  times ! 

4  Enter  a  Son,  &c.]    These  two  horrible  incidents  are  selected 
to  show  the  innumerable  calamities  of  civil  war.     Johnson. 

In  the  battle  of  Constantine  and  Maxentius,   by  Raphael,  the 
second  of  these  incidents  is  introduced  on  a  similar  occasion. 

Steevens. 
s  O  piteous  spectacle  !  &c.]     In  the  old  play  the  King  does  not 
speak,    till   both   the  Son  and    the  Father  have  appeared,    and 
spoken,  and  then  the  following  words  are  attributed  to  him,  out  of 
which  Shakspeare  has  formed  two  distinct  speeches  : 

"  Woe  above  woe  !  grief  more  than  common  grief! 

"  Whilst  lions  war,  and  battle  for  their  dens, 

'*  Poor  lambs  do  feel  the  rigour  of  their  wraths. 

*'  The  red  rose  and  the  white  are  on  his  face, 

"  The  fatal  colours  of  our  striving  houses. 

"  Wither  one  rose,  and  let  the  other  perish, 

"For,  if  you  strive,  ten  thousand  lives  must  perish." 

Malone. 


sc.  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  435 

Whilst  lions  war,  and  battle  for  their  dens, 

*  Poor  harmless  lambs  abide  their  enmity, — 

*  Weep,  wretched  man,  I'll  aid  thee  tear  for  tear ; 

*  And  let  our  hearts,  and  eyes,  like  civil  war, 

*  Be  blind  with  tears,  and  break  o'ercharg'd  with 

grief  ^, 

Enter  a  Father^  who  has  killed  his  Son,  with  the 
Body  in  his  arms. 

*  Fath.  Thou  that  so  stoutly  hast  resisted  me, 

*  Give  me  thy  gold,  if  thou  hast  any  gold  ; 

*  For  I  have  bought  it  with  an  hundred  blows. — 
'  But  let  me  see  : — is  this  our  foeman's  face  ? 

*  Ah,  no,  no,  no,  it  is  mine  only  son ! — 

*  Ah,  boy,  if  any  life  be  left  in  thee, 

*  Throw  up  thine  eye ;  see,  see,  what  showers  arise, 

*  Blown  with  the  windy  tempest  of  my  heart  \ 

*  Upon  thy  wounds,  that  kill  mine  eye  and  heart! — 
'  O,  pity,  God,  this  miserable  age ! — 

*  What  stratagems  %  how  fell,  how  butcherly, 

^  And  let  our  hearts,  and  eyes,  like  civil  war. 
Be  blind  with  tears,  and  break  o'ercharg'd  with  grief.]     The 
meaning  is  here  inaccurately  expressed.     The  King  intends  to  say 
that  the  state  of  their  hearts  and  eyes  shall  be  like  that  of  tlie 
kingdom  in  a  civil  war,  all  shall  be  destroyed  by  power  formed 
within  themselves.     Johnson. 
7  —  what  showers  arise. 
Blown  with  the  windy  tempest  of  my  heart,]     This  image 
had  occurred  in  the  preceding  Act  : 

"  For  raging  wind  blows  up  incessant  showers." 

Steevens. 
^  What  STRATAGEMS,]     Stratagem  seems   to  stand  here  only 
for  an  event  of  war,  or  may  intend  snares  and  surprizes. 

Johnson. 
Stratagem  is  used  by  Shakspeare  not  merely  to  express  the 
events  and  surprizes  of  war. — The  word  means,  in  this  place,  some 
dreadful  event,    as   it  does    also   in   The   Second   Part  of  King 
Henry  IV.  where  Northumberland  says  : 

"  Every  minute  now 

"  Should  be  the  father  of  some  stratagem:' 
Slratagemma,   in    Italian,  bears  the  same  acceptation  which 

2f  2 


436  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  it. 

*  Erroneous,  mutinous,  and  unnatural, 

'  This  deadly  quarrel  daily  doth  beget ! — 

*  O  boy,  thy  father  gave  thee  life  too  soon  ^, 

*  And  hath  bereft  thee  of  thy  life  too  late  ^ ! 

Shakspeare  gives  to  the  English  word  stratagem,  in  these  two 
passages.  Bernini  in  his  History  of  Heresies,  savs :  "■  Ma  Dio 
puni  la  Francia,  et  la  Spagna,  co'l  flagello  dei  Vandali,  per 
I'Eresia  abbracciataj  et  piu  gravamente  puni  Roma,  prevaricata  di 
nuovo,  al  culto  de  gl'  idoli,  con  il  sacco  che  gli  diedero.  Orosio, 
che  descrisse  quelle  strntagemme,  paragoni  Roma  a  Sodoma,  chia- 
mando  i  Romani  peccatori." 

It  is  evident,  that  in  this  passage  stratagemme  means  disastrous 
events,  as  stratagem  does  in  this  place.     M.  Mason. 

We  find  the  word  stratagem  in  The  True  Chronicle  History  of 
King  Lear,  p.  417,  where  Regan  says  to  the  Messenger — 
"  Hast  thou  the  heart  to  act  a  stratagem, 
"  And  give  a  stab  or  two,  if  need  require  ? 

"  Messenger.  I  have  a  heart  compact  of  adamant 
"  Which  never  knew  what  melting  pity  meant. 
"  I  weigh  no  more  the  murd'ring  of  a  man, 
"  Than  I  respect  the  cracking  of  a  flea, 
"  When  I  do  catch  her  biting  on  my  skin. 
"  If  you  will  have  your  husband  or  your  father, 
"  Or  both  of  them,  sent  to  another  world, 
"  Do  but  command  me  do  it,  it  shall  be  done." 
It  is  evident  that  Regan's  stratagem,  or  subtle  device,  was  assas- 
sination.    M.  Mason. 

I  formerly  questioned  Mr.  Mason's  explanation  ;  but  I  am  now 
convinced  he  was  right.  In  Greene's  Orlando  Furioso,  it  is  used 
with  the  meaning  which  he  has  assigned  to  it.  Orlando  is  de- 
scribed as — 

"  Performing  strange  and  ruthful  stratagems, 
"  All  for  the  love  of  fair  Angelica."     Malone. 
^  O  boy,  thy  father  gave  thee  life  too  soon,]     Because,  had  he 
been  born  later,  he  would  not  now  have  been  of  years  to  engage 
in  this  quarrel.     Warburton. 

9  And  hath  bereft  thee  of  thy  life  too  late  !]  i.  e.  He  should 
have  done  it  by  not  bringing  thee  into  being,  to  make  both  father 
and  son  thus  miserable.  This  is  the  sense,  such  as  it  is,  of  the 
two  lines ;  however,  an  indifferent  sense  was  better  than  none, 
as  it  is  brought  to  by  the  Oxford  editor,  by  reading  the  lines  thus  : 
"  O  boy  !  thy  father  gave  thee  life  too  late, 
"  And  hath  bereft  thee  of  thv  life  too  soon." 

Warburton. 
I  rather  think  the  meaning  of  the  line,  "  And  hath  bereft  thee 


sc.  y.  KING  HENRY  VI.  437 

K.   Hen.    Woe  above  woe !    grief  more    than 
common  grief ! 

*  O,  that  my  death  would  stay  these  ruthful  deeds ! — 

*  O  pity,  pity,  gentle  heaven,  pity! — 

The  red  rose  and  the  white  are  on  his  face, 
The  fatal  colours  of  our  striving  houses : 

*  The  one,  his  purple  blood  right  well  resembles; 

*  The  other,  his  pale  cheeks,  methinks,  presenteth  ; 
Wither  one  rose,  and  let  the  other  flourish ! 

'  If  you  contend,  a  thousand  lives  must  wither  \ 

of  thy  life  too  soon,"  to  be  this:  'Thy  father  exposed  thee  to 
danger,  by  giving  thee  life  too  soon,  and  hath  bereft  thee  of  life  by 
living  himself  too  long.'     Johnson. 

The  Oxford  editor  might  have  justified  the  change  he  made, 
from  the  authority  of  the  quarto,  according  to  which  I  vi'ould 
read  ;  explaining  the  first  line  thus  :  '  Thy  father  begot  thee  at 
too  late  a  period  of  his  life,  and  therefore  thou  vvert  not  old  and 
strong  enough  to  cope  with  him.'  The  next  line  can  want  no  ex- 
planation. Mr.  Toilet  thinks,  that  by  too  late  is  meant  too  lately, 
as  in  King  Richard  HI.  Act  III.  : 

"  Too  late  he  died  that  might  have  kept  that  title." 

Steevens. 
Too  late,  without  doubt,  means  too  recently.     The  memory  of 
thy  virtues  and  fthy  hapless  end  is  too  recent,  to  be  thought  of 
without  the  deepest   anguish.     The  same  quaint  expression  is 
found  in  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  O,  quoth  Lucretius,  I  did  give  that  life, 
"  Which  she  too  early  and  too  late  hath  spill'd." 
Here  late  clearly  means  lately.     Again,   in  this  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  : 

"  VVhere  fame,  late  entering  at  his  heedful  ears," 
In  the  old  play  this  and  the  preceding  line  stand  thus  : 
"  Poor  boy,  thy  father  gave  thee  life  too  late, 
'•  And  hath  bereft  thee  of  thy  life  too  soon."     Malone. 
The  present  reading  appears  to  be  far  the  more  eligible.     Had 
the  son  been  younger,  he  would  have  been  precluded    from  the 
levy  that  brought  him  into  the  field ;  and  had  the  father  recog- 
nized him  before  the  mortal  blow,  it  would  not  have  been  too  late 
to  have  saved  him  from  death.     Henley. 

'  If  you  contend,  a  thousand  lives  must  wither,]  Thus  the 
folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 

"  For  if  you  strive,  a  thousand  lives  must  perish.'' 

Steevens. 
I  think  the  word  mthcr  is  more  likelyto  have  been  inudver- 


438  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n. 

Son,  How  will  my  mother,  for  a  father's  death, 
Take  on  with  me  ^,  and  ne'er  be  satisfied  ? 

Fath.  How  will  my  wife,  for  slaughter  of  my  son, 

*  Shed  seas  of  tears,  and  ne'er  be  satisfied  ? 

'  K.   Hen.  How    will  the   country  '^,   for  these 
woful  chances, 

*  Misthink  the  king,  and  not  be  satisfied  ? 

*  Son.  Was  ever  son,  so  ru'd  a  father's  death  ? 
'  Fath.  Was  ever  father,  so  bemoan'd  a  son  *  ? 

*  K,  Hen.  Was  ever  king,  so  griev'd  for  subjects' 

woe  ? 

*  Much  is  your  sorrow ;  mine,  ten  times  so  much. 

*  Son.  I'll  bear  thee  hence  %  where  I  may  weep 

my  fill.  \_Exit  with  the  Body. 


tently  repeated  by  the  transcriber,  than  substituted  by  Shakspeare 
for  the  former  word.     Malone. 

^  Take  on  with  me,]  Be  enraged  at  me.  So,  in  Pierce  Pen- 
niless his  Supplication  to  the  Devil,  by  T.  Nashe,  1592  :  "  Some 
will  take  on,  like  a  madman,  if  they  see  a  pig  come  to  the  table." 

Malone. 

To  talce  on  is  a  phrase  still  in  use  among  the  vulgar,  and  signi- 
fies— to  persist  inclaviorous  lamentation.     Steevens. 

3  How  will  the  country,  &c,]     So  the  folio.    The  quartos  thus  : 

"  How  will  the  country  now  misdeem  their  king  ! 
"  Oh,  would  my  death  their  minds  could  satisfy !  " 
To  mis-think  is  to  think  ill,  urifavourably .    So,  in  The  Northern 
Lass,  1633 : 

" and  heaven  pardon  me  what  I  tnis-thought  every  hour  of 

the  night !  "     Steevens. 

This  word,  which  Shakspeare  substituted  for  misdeem,  he  has 
again  used  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  Be  it  known,  that  we  the  greatest  are  mis-thought, 
"  For  things  that  others  do."     Malone. 

4  Was  ever  son,  so  ku'd  a  father's  death  ? 

Was  ever  father,  so  bemoan'd  his  son  ?]  The  variation  is 
here  worth  remarking,  for  in  the  old  play  the  corresponding  lines 
are  : 

"  Was  ever  son  so  rude,  his  father's  blood  to  spill  ! 
"  Was  ever  father  so  unnatural,  his  son  to  kill  ?  " 

Malone, 

5  I'll  bear  thee  hence,  &c.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  old  play 
thus  : 


sc.  V.  KING  HENRY  VI.  439 

*  Path.  These  arms  of  mine  shall  be  thy  wind- 

ing-sheet : 

*  My  heart,  sweet  boy,  shall  be  thy  sepulchre  ; 

*  For  from  my  heart  thine  image  ne'er  shall  go. 

*  My  sighing  breast  shall  be  thy  funeral  bell ; 

*  And  so  obsequious  will  thy  father  be  ^, 

*  Sad  for  the  loss  of  thee  \  having  no  more, 

*  As  Priam  was  for  all  ®  his  valiant  sons, 

I'll  bear  thee  hence ;  and  let  them  fight  that  will, 
For  I  have  murder'd  where  I  should  not  kill. 

\Exit^  with  the  Body. 

*  K.  Hen.  Sad-hearted  men,  much  overgone  with 

care, 

*  Here  sits  a  king  more  woful  than  you  are. 

Alarums:   E.vcursions.     Enter  Queen  Margaret, 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  Exeter. 

*  Prince.  Fly,  father,  fly !  for  all  your  friends  are 

fled, 

*  And  Warwick  rages  like  a  chafed  bull : 

*  Away !  for  death  doth  hold  us  in  pursuit. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Mount  you,  my  lord ;  towards  Berwick 

post  amain : 
'  Edward  and  Richard,  like  a  brace  of  greyhounds, 

*  Having  the  fearful,  flying  hare  in  sight, 

*  With  firy  eyes,  sparkling  for  very  wrath, 

"  I'll  bear  thee  hence  from  this  accursed  place, 
"  For  woe  is  to  me,  to  see  my  father's  face."     Malone. 
^  And  so  OBSEQ.UIOUS  will  thy  father  be,]     Obsequious  is  here 
careful  of  obsequies,  or  oi  {nneraX  x'lies.     Johnson. 
In  the  same  sense  it  is  used  in  Hamlet : 

"  ' to  do  obsequious  sorrow."     Steevens. 

7  Sad  for  the  loss  of  thee,]  The  old  copy  reads — vien  for  the 
loss,  &c.  Mr.  Rowe  made  the  alteration  ;  but  I  think  we  might 
read  : 

" so  obsequious  will  thy  father  be, 

"  Man,  for  the  loss  of  thee,"  &c.     Steevens. 
^  As  Priam  was  for  all  — ]     I  having  but  one  son,  will   grieve 
as  much  for  that  one,  as  Priam,  who  had  many,   could  grieve  for 
many.     Johnson. 


440  THIRD  PART  OF  jct  ii. 

*  And  bloody  steel  grasp'd  in  their  ireful  hands, 

*  Are  at  our  backs ;  and  therefore  hence  amain. 

*  Ex£,  Away !  for  vengeance  comes  along  with 

them  : 

*  Nay,  stay  not  to  expostulate,  make  speed ; 
Or  else  come  after,  I'll  away  before. 

*  K.  Hen.    Nay,  take  me  with  thee,  good  sweet 

Exeter ; 

*  Not  that  I  fear  to  stay,  but  love  to  go 

*  Whither  the  queen  intends.     Forward  ;  away  ! 

\_Exeunt. 

SCENE  VI. 
The  Same. 

A  loud  Alarum,     Enter  Clifford,  wounded^. 

*  Clip.  Here  burns  my  candle  out,  ay,  here  it 

dies  \ 
Which,  while  it  lasted,  gave  King  Henry  light, 
O,  Lancaster  !  I  fear  thy  overthrow. 
More  than  my  body's  parting  with  my  soul. 
My  love,  and  fear,  glued  many  friends  to  thee  ! 

*  And,  now  I  fall,  thy  tough  commixtures  melt  '^. 

9  Enter  Clifford,  ivoimded.']  The  quarto  adf's,  "  with  an 
arrow  in  his  neck."  In  ridicule  of  this,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher 
have  introduced  Ralph,  the  grocer's  prentice,  in  The  Knight  of 
the  Burning  Pestle,  with  b.  forked  arroiv  through  his  head  It  ap- 
pears, however,  from  Holinshed,  p.  664,  that  this  circumstance 
has  some  relation  to  the  truth :  "  The  lord  Clift'ord,  either  for 
heat  or  paine,  putting  off  his  gorget  suddenlie,  with  an  arrow  (as 
some  saie)  without  a  head,  was  striken  into  the  throte,  and  im- 
mediately rendered  his  spirit."     Steevens. 

'  Here  burns  my  candle  out,  ay,  here  it  dies,]     So,  in  the  first 
part  of  this  play  : 

"  Here  dies  the  dusky  torch  of  Mortimer."     Steevens. 

*  —  THY  tough  commixtures  melt.]     Perhaps  better,  the  tough 
commixture.     Johnson. 

The  quartos  read — "  that  tough  commixture  melts." 

Steevens. 


sc.  VI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  441 

Impairing  Henry,  strength'ning  mis-proud  York, 
The  common  people  swarm  like  summer  flies  ^ : 
And  v/hither  fly  the  gnats,  but  to  the  sun  '^  ? 
And  who  shines  now  but  Henry's  enemies  ? 
O  Pheebus  !  hadst  thou  never  given  consent  ^ 
That  Phaeton  should  check  thy  firy  steeds. 
Thy  burning  car  never  had  scorch'd  the  earth : 
And,  Henry,  hadst  thou  sway'd  as  kings  should  do, 
Or  as  thy  father,  and  his  father,  did, 
Giving  no  ground  unto  the  house  of  York, 

*  They  never  then  had  sprung  like  summer  flies ; 

*  I,  and  ten  thousand  in  this  luckless  realm. 
Had  left  no  mourning  widows  for  our  death. 
And  thou  this  day  hadst  kept  thy  chair  in  peace. 
For  what  doth  cherish  weeds  but  gentle  air  ? 

*  And  what  makes   robbers  bold,    but    too   much 

lenity  ? 
Bootless  are  plaints,  and  cureless  are  my  wounds ; 

*  No  way  to  fly,  nor  strength  to  hold  out  flight  ^  : 

3  The  common  people  swarm  like  summer  flies  :]  This  line, 
which  is  not  in  the  folio,  was  recovered  from  the  old  play  by  Mr. 
Theobald.  The  context  shows,  that,  like  a  line  in  The  Second 
Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  it  was  omitted  by  the  negligence  of  the 
transcriber  or  compositor.     Malone. 

4  The  common  people  swarm  like  summer  flies : 

And  whither  fly  the  gnats,  but  to  the  sun  ?]     Hence,  perhaps, 
originated  the  following  passage  in  The  Bard  of  Gray : 

"  The  swarm  that  in  thy  noontide  beam  were  born? 
"  Gone  to  salute  the  rising  morn."     Steevens. 

5  O  Phoebus  !  hadst  thou  never  given  consent  — ]  The  Duke 
of  York  had  been  entrusted  by  Henry  with  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment both  in  Ireland  and  France  ;  and  hence  perhaps  was  taught 
to  aspire  to  the  throne.     Malone. 

^  No  way  to  fly,  nor  strength  to  hold  out  flight :]  This  line  is 
clear  and  proper  as  it  is  now  read  ;  yet  perhaps  an  opposition  of 
images  was  meant,  and  Cliftbrd  said  : 

"  No  way  to  fly,  nor  strength  to  hold  out  ^ght." 

Johnson. 
The  sense  of  the  original  reading  is — No  way  to  fly,  nor  with 
strength  sufficient  left  to  sustain  myself  in  flight,  if  there  were. 

Steevens. 


442  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii. 

The  foe  is  merciless,  and  will  not  pity ; 
For,  at  their  hands,  I  have  deserv'd  no  pity. 

*  The  air  hath  got  into  my  deadly  wounds. 

And  much  effuse  of  blood  doth  make  me  faint ; — 
Come,  York,  and  Richard,  Warwick,  and  the  rest ; 

*  I  stabb'd  your  father's  bosoms,  split  my  breast  ^ 

\He  faints. 

Alarum  and  Retreat.     Enter  Edward^   George, 
Richard,  Montague,  Warwick,  and  Soldiers. 

*  Edtf.  Now  breathe  we,  lords  ^ ;  good  fortune 
bids  us  pause, 

*  And  smooth  the  frowns  of  war^  with   peaceful 

looks. — 
Some  troops  pursue  the  bloody-minded  queen  ; — 

*  That  led  calm  Henry,  though  he  were  a  king, 

*  As  doth  a  sail,  fill'd  with  a  fretting  gust. 


7  I  stabb'd  your   father's  bosoms,  split  my  breast.]     So  the 
folio.     The  quartos  read  : 

"  I  stabb'd  your  father's,  noiu  come  split  my  breast." 

Steevens. 
*  Now  breathe  we,  lords  ;]     Instead  of  this  speech  the  quartos 
have  the  following : 

"  Thus  far  our  fortunes  keep  an  upward  course, 
"  And  we  are  grac'd  with  wreaths  of  victory. 
"  Some  troops  pursue  the  bloody-minded  queen, 
"  That  now  towards  Berwick  doth  post  amain  :— — — 
"  But  think  you  that  Clifford  is  fled  away  with  them? '* 

Steevens. 
This  battle,  in  which  the  house  of  York  was  victorious,  was 
fought  on  a  plain  between  Towton  and  Saxton,  on  the  29th  of 
March,  (Palm  Sunday)  1461.  The  royal  army  consisted,  ac- 
cording to  Hall,  of  about  forty  thousand  men ;  and  the  young 
Duke  of  York's  forces  were  48,760.  In  this  combat,  which 
lasted  fourteen  hours,  and  in  the  actions  of  the  two  following 
days,  36,776  persons  are  said  to  have  been  killed ;  the  greater 
part  of  whom  were  undoubtedly  Lancastrians.     Malone. 

9  And  SMOOTH  the  frowns  of  war  — ]  So,  in  K.  Richard  III. : 
"  Grim-visag'd  xmr  hath  smoothed  his  uimiklcd  front." 

Steevens. 


sc.  VI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  443 

'  Command  an  argosy  to  stem  the  waves. 

*  But  think  you,  lords,  that  Clifford  fled  with  them  ? 

JK4R.  No,  'tis  impossible  he  should  escape ; 
For,  though  before  his  face  I  speak  the  words. 
Your  brother  Richard  mark'd  him  for  the  grave  ' : 

*  And,  wheresoe'er  he  is,  he's  surely  dead. 

[^Clifford  groans  and  dies. 
Edtv.  Whose  soul  ^  is  that  which  takes  her  heavy 

leave  ? 
Rich.    A   deadly    groan,    like  life  and   death's 

departing^. 
Emr.  See  who  it  is :  and,  now  the  battle's  ended. 
If  friend,  or  foe,  let  him  be  gently  us'd. 

*  Rich.    Revoke    that  doom   of  mercy,   for  'tis 
CUfford  ; 

*  Who  not  contented  that  he  lopp'd  the  branch 
'  In  hewing  Rutland  when  his  leaves  put  forth  % 

J  —  mark'd  him  for  the  grave  :]  Young  has  transferred  this 
expression  to  Alonzo  in  The  Revenge  : 

"  This  only  marks  my  body  for  the  grave." 
A  simih\r  phrase  occurs  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  fifth  Iliad  : 
"  Our  bravest  foe  is  marled  for  dealh;  he  cannot  long  sustain 
"  My  violent  shaft — ."     Steevens. 
^  Edtv.  Whose  soul,  &c.]     I   have  distinguished  this   and  the 
two  following  speeches  according  to  the  authority  of  the  quarto. 
The  folio  gave  all  to  Richard,  except  the  last  line  and  half. 

Steevens. 
I  have  also  followed  the  original  regulation,  because  it  seems 
absurd  that  Richard  should  first  say  to  his  brother,  or  to  one  of 
the  soldiers,  "  See  who  it  is  ;  " — and  then,  himself  declare  that 
it  is  Clifford  ;  and  therefore  I  suppose  the  variation  in  the  folio 
arose,  not  from  Shakspeare,  but  from  some  negligence  or  inac- 
curacy of  a  compositor  or  transcriber.     Malone. 

3  —  like  life  and  death's  departing.]  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer 
reads,  "  like  life  m  death  departing  ;  "  which  Dr.  Warburton  has 
received.     Johnson. 

The  quartos  read,  like  life  and  death's  departure.     Steevens. 
"  —  like  life  and  death's  departing"    Departing,  for  separation. 

Malone. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  correction.     "  Till  death  us  depart  " 
was  the  expression  in  the  old  Marriage  Service.     Fakmek. 

4  In  hewing  Rutland  when  his  leaves  put  forth,]     It  is  manifest 


444  THIRD  PART  OF  .ict  ii. 

'  But  set  his  murdering  knife  unto  the  root 

*  From  whence  that  tender  spray  did  sweetly  spring, 

*  1  mean,  our  princely  father,  duke  of  York. 

JVar.  From  off  the  gates  of  York  fetch  down  the 
head. 
Your  father's  head,  which  Clifford  placed  there : 

*  Instead  whereof,  let  this  supply  the  room ; 
Measure  for  measure  must  be  answered. 

Edtf.  Bring  forth  that  fatal  screech-owl  to  our 
house, 

*  That  nothing  sung  but  death  to  us  and  ours  ^ : 

'  Now  death  shall  stop  his  dismal  threatening  sound, 

*  And  his  ill-boding  tongue  no  more  shall  speak. 

[Attendants  bring  the  Body  forward. 
War.  I  think  his  understanding  is  bereft : — 
Speak,    Clifford,    dost  thou  know  who  speaks  to 

thee  ? — 
Dark  cloudy  death  o'ershades  his  beams  of  life. 
And  he  nor  sees,  nor  hears  us  what  we  say. 

Rich.  O,   'would   he    did  !    and  so,  perhaps,  he 
doth  ; 

*  'Tis  but  his  policy  to  counterfeit, 

from  this  and  many  other  passages,  that  the  author  of  the  old 
play,  where  the  corresponding  line  stands  thus  : 

"  Who  killed  our  tender  brother  Rutland — " 
imagined  that  Rutland  was  younger  than  George  and  Richard ; 
whereas  he  was  in  fact  older  than  them  both,  being  the  Duke  of 
York's  second  son ;  in  consequence  of  which  he  bore  a  title  by 
courtesy ;  and  a  particular  stipulation  was  made  in  the  compact 
entered  into  between  Henry  and  the  Duke  of  York,  that  Rutland, 
as  well  as  his  elder  brother  Edward  Earl  of  March,  should  swear 
to  the  due  observance  of  the  agreement.  Shakspeare  has,  we 
see,  fallen  into  the  same  error  ;  as  have  Habington  in  his  nervous 
and  elegant  History  of  Edward  IV.  and  several  other  historians 
and  poeis.     Malone. 

5  — screech-owL  to  our  house, 
That    NOTHING    SUNG   BUT    DEATH,    &c.]      So,    in    King 
Richard  III.  : 

"  Out  on  you^  oids !  nuthbig  hut  songs  of  death'?" 

St£evens. 


sc.  V!.  KING  HENRY  VI.  445 

*  Because  he  would  avoid  such  bitter  taunts 

*  Which  in  the  time  of  death  he  gave  our  father. 

Geo.    If  so  thou  think'st,  vex  him  with  eager 

words  ^. 
Rich.  Clifford,  ask  mercy,  and  obtain  no  grace. 
Edtf.  Clifford,  repent  in  bootless  penitence. 
JVar.  Clifford,  devise  excuses  for  thy  faults. 
Geo.  While  we  devise  fell  tortures  for  thy  faults. 

*  Rich.  Thou  didst  love  York,  and  I  am  son  to 

York. 
Enrr.  Thou  pitied'st  Rutland,  I  will  pity  thee. 
Geo.  Where's   captain  Margaret,  to  fence  you 

now  ? 
War.  They  mock  thee,  Clifford !  swear  as  thou 

wast  wont. 

*  Rich.  What,  not  an  oath  ?  nay,  then  the  world 

goes  hard, 

*  When  Clifford  cannot  spare  his  friends  an  oath : — 
I  know  by  that,  he's  dead ;  And,  by  my  soul, 

'  If  this  right  hand  would  buy  two  hours'  life. 
That  I  in  all  despite  might  rail  at  him, 

*  This  hand  should  chop  it  off;  and  with  the  issuing 

blood 
Stifle  the  villain,  whose  unstaunched  thirst 
York  and  young  Rutland  could  not  satisfy. 

IKm.  Ay,  but  he's  dead  :  Off  with  the  traitor's 

head. 
And  rear  it  in  the  place  your  father's  stands. — 
And  now  to  London  with  triumphant  march. 
There  to  be  crowned  England's  royal  king. 
'  From  whence    shall    Warwick    cut    the    sea   to 

France, 
And  ask  the  lady  Bona  for  thy  queen : 

^  — EAGER  words.]     <SoMr  words;  words  of  asperity. 

Johnson. 
So,  in  Hamlet: 

"  It  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air."     Steevens. 


446  THIRD  PART  OF  act  n. 

So  shalt  thou  sinew  both  these  lands  together ; 

*  And,  having  France  thy  friend,  thou   shalt   not 

dread 
The  scatter'd  foe,  that  hopes  to  rise  again ; 
For  though  they  cannot  greatly  sting  to  hurt. 
Yet  look  to  have  them  buz,  to  offend  thine  ears. 
First,  will  I  see  the  coronation  ; 

*  And  then  to  Britanny  Fll  cross  the  sea% 
To  effect  this  marriage,  so  it  please  my  lord. 

Edw.  Even  as  thou  wilt,  sweet  Warwick,  let  it 
be  : 

*  For  on  thy  shoulder  do  1  build  my  seat ; 

*  And  never  will  I  undertake  the  thing, 

*  Wherein  thy  counsel  and  consent  is  wanting. — 
'  Richard,  I  will  create  thee  duke  of  Gloster  ; — 

'  And  George,  of  Clarence  ; — Warwick,  as  ourself, 

*  Shall  do,  and  undo,  as  him  pleaseth  best. 

Rich.  Let  me  be  duke  of  Clarence ;  George  of 
Gloster ; 
For  Gloster's  dukedom  is  too  ominous^. 

7  And  then  to  Britanny  I'll  cross  the  sea,]  Thus  the  folio.  The 
quartos  thus  : 

"  And  afterward  I'll  cross  the  seas  to  France," 

Steevens. 
®  — too  ominous.]     Alluding,  perhaps,   to  the  deaths  of  Tho- 
mas of  Woodstock,  and  Humphrey,  Dukes  of  Gloster. 

Steevens. 
Tlie  author  of  the  original  play,  in  which  thia  line  is  found, 
prob.ibly  had  here  a  passage  in  Hall's  Chronicle  in  his  thoughts  : 
"  It  seemeth  to  many  men  that  the  name  and  title  of  Gloucester 
hath  bene  unfortunate  and  unluckie  to  diverse,  whiche  for  their 
honor  have  bene  erected  by  creation  of  princes  to  that  stile  and 
dignitie  ;  as  Hugh  Spencer,  Thomas  of  Woodstock e,  son  tokynge 
Edwarde  the  thirde,  and  this  duke  Humphrey,  [who  was  killed 
at  Bury ;]  whiche  three  persons  by  miserable  death  finished  their 
daies ;  and  after  them  king  Richard  the  iii.  also  duke  of  Glou- 
cester, in  civil  warre  was  slaine  and  confounded ;  so  that  this 
name  of  Gloucester  is  taken  for  an  unhappie  and  unfortunate 
stile,  as  the  proverbe  speaketh  of  Sejanes  horse,  whose  ryder  was 
ever  unhorsed,  and  whose  possessor  was  ever  brought  tomiserie." 

Malone. 
6 


ACT  HI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  447 

War,  Tut,  that's  a  foolish  observation ; 
Richard,  be  duke  of  Gloster :  Now  to  London, 
To  see  these  honours  in  possession.  \Exeunt. 


ACT  III.     SCENE  I. 

A  Chace  in  the  North  of  England. 

Enter   Two  Keepers^,   zvith    Cross-bows  in  their 

Hands. 

•  1  Keep.  Under  this  thick-grown  brake  ^  we'll 
shroud  ourselves ; 

9  —  txx)o  Keepers,']  In  the  folio,  instead  of  tivo  keepers,  we 
have,  through  negligence,  the  names  of  the  persons  who  repre- 
sented these  characters  ;  Sinklo  and  Hnmj)hreij .  Humphrey  was 
Humphrey  Jeaffes,  as  ap])ears  from  Mr.  Henslowe's  MS.  For 
Sinklo,  see  vol.  v.  p.  367,  n.  7.     Malone. 

Dr.  Grey  observes  from  Hall  and  Holinshed,  that  the  name  of 
the  person  who  took  King  Henry,  was  Cantlowe.  See  Mr.  Tyr- 
whitt's  note  on  the  first  scene  in  The  Taming  of  a  Shrew. 

I  learn  also  from  one  of  the  Paston  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  249,  that 
Giles  Senctlowe  was  among  the  persons  then  in  Scotland  with 
the  Queen.     Steevens. 

One  Giles  Santlowe,  Esquire,  is  among  those  attainted  by  King 
Edward's  first  parliament,  and  may  possibly  be  here  meant,  but 
no  person  of  that  name  seems  to  have  been  any  way  concerned 
in  the  capture  of  the  late  king;  who,  according  to  W.  Wyrcester, 
was  actually  taken  in  Lancashire,  by  two  knights  named  John 
Talbois  and  Richard  Tunstall, — July,  1464.  Drummond  of 
Hawthornden  observes,  it  was  recorded  "  that  a  son  of  Sir  Ed- 
ward Talbots  apprehended  him  as  he  sat  at  dinner  in  Wadding- 
town-hall  ;  and  like  a  common  malefactor,  with  his  legs  under 
the  horse's  belly,  guarded  him  toward  London."  It  is  a  more 
certain  fact,  which  I  have  from  records  in  the  Duchy  Office,  that 
King  Edward  granted  to  Sir  James  Harrington  a  rent-charge  of 
one  hundred  pounds  out  of  his  lordship  of  Rowland  in  Lancashire, 
in  recompence  of  his  great  and  laborious  diligence  about  the  cap- 
ture and  detention  of  the  king's  great  traitor,  rebel  and  enemy, 
lately  called  Henry  the  Sixth,  made  by  the  said  James  ;  and  like- 
wise  annuities  to   Richard  Talbot,    Thomas    Talbot,    Esquires, 


448  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  For  through  this  laund'  anon  the  deer  will  come  ; 

*  And  in  this  covert  will  we  make  our  stand, 

*  Culling  the  principal  of  all  the  deer. 

*  2!  Keep.  I'll  stay  above  the  hill,  so  both  may 

shoot. 

*  1  Keep.  That  cannot  be ;   the  noise  of  thy 

cross-bow  ^ 

*  Will  scare  the  herd,  and  so  my  shoot  is  lost. 

*  Here  stand  we  both,  and  aim  we  at  the  best : 

*  And,  for  the  time  shall  not  seem  tedious, 

*  I'll  tell  thee  what  befell  me  on  a  day, 

*  In  this  self- place  where  now  we  mean  to  stand. 

*  2  Keep.  Here  comes  a  man,  let's  stay  till  he  be 

past  ^. 

— —  Talbot,  and  Livesey,  for  their  services  in  the  same  capture. 
See  also,  Rymer's  Foedera,  xi.  548.  Henry  had  for  some  time 


been  harboured  by  James  Maychell  of  Crakenthorpe,  Westmore- 
land, ib.  .575.  It  seems  clear,  however,  that  the  present  scene 
is  to  be  placed  near  the  Scottish  border.  The  King  himself  says  : 
"  From  Scotland  am  I  stol'n,  even  of  pure  love  ;  " 
And  Hall  (and  Holinshed  after  him)  tells  us  "  He  was  no 
sooner  entered  [into  England]  but  he  was  knowen  and  taken  of 
one  Cantlow,  and  brought  toward  the  king."     Ritson. 

'  —  brake — ]  A  brake  anciently  signified  a  thicket.  So,  in 
A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  :  "  This  green  plot  shall  be  our 
stage,  this  hawthorn  brake  our  tiring  house."  Again  :  "  Enter 
into  that  brake,  and  so  every  one  according  to  his  cue."  See  the 
latter  part  of  a  note  on  Measure  for  Measure,  vol  v.  p.  248,  n.  2. 

Steevens. 
*  —  this  LAUND — ]     Laund  means  the  same  as  laivn;  a,  plain 
extended  betiveen  woods. 

So,  in  the  old  play  of  Orlando  Furioso,  1594  : 

"  And  that  they  trace  the  shady  laionds,"  &c. 
Again  : 

"  Tread  she  these  latvnds,  kind  Flora  boasts  her  pride." 

Steevens. 

3  —  the  noise  of  thy  cross-bow — ]  The  poet  appears  not  to 
have  forgot  the  secrets  of  his  former  profession. 

So,  in  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton,  1608  : 

" Did  I  not  hear  a  bow  go  off,  and  the  buck  bray?  " 

Steevens. 

4  —  let's  stay  till  he  be  past.]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos  read  : 

" let's  listen  him  a  while."     Steevens. 


sc.  /.  KING  HENRY  VI.  449 


Efiter  King  Henry,  disguised,  with  a  Prayer-book. 

K.  Hen.  From  Scotland  am  I  stol'n,  even  of  pure 
love, 

*  To  greet  mine  own  land  with  my  wishful  sight  \ 

*  No,  Harry,  Harry,  'tis  no  land  of  thine ; 

*  Thy  place  is  filFd,  thy  scepter  wrung  from  thee, 

*  Thy  balm   wash'd  off '^,   wherewith    thou    wast 

anointed : 
No  bending  knee  will  call  thee  Caesar  now, 

*  No  humble  suitors  press  to  speak  for  right, 

*  No,  not  a  man  comes  for  redress  of  thee  ; 
For  how  can  I  help  them,  and  not  myself? 

*  1  Keep.  Ay,  here's  a  deer  whose  skin's  a  keeper's 
fee: 
'  This  is  the  quondam  king  ^ ;  let's  seize  upon  him< 


5  To  greet   mine  own  land  with  my  wishful  sight.]     So  the 
folio.     The  quartos  perhaps  better,  thus  : 

"  And  thus  disguis'd  to  greet  my  native  land."  Steevens. 
^  Thy  balm  wash'd  off,]     This  is  an  image  very  frequent  in  the 
works  of  Shakspeare.     So  again,  in  this  scene  : 
"  I  was  anointed  king." 
It  is  common  in  these  plays  to  find  the  same  images,  whether 
jocular  or  serious,  frequently  recurring.     Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Richard  II.  : 

"  Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough  rude  sea 
"  Can  vvash  the  balm  from  an  anointed  king." 
It  is  observable  that  this  line  is  one  of  those  additions  to  the 
original  play,  which  are  found  in  the  folio,  and  not  in  the  quarto. 

Malone. 
7  This  is  the  auoNDAM  king;  &c.]     Thus  the  folio.     The 
quartos  thus : 

"  Ay,  marry,  sir,  here's  a  deer  ;  his  skin  is  a 

"  Keeper's  fee.     Sirrah  stand  close  ;  for  as  I  think, 

"  This  is  the  king,  king  Edward  hath  depos'd." 

Steevens. 
Quondam  had  not  in  Shakspeare's  time  uniformly  acquired  a 
ludicrous  sense.  "  Make  them  rjuondams  (says  Latimer  in  one  of 
his  Sermons),  out  with  them,  cast  them  out  of  their  office."  And 
in  another  place  :  "  He  will  have  every  man  a  quondam,  as  he  is. 
As  for  my  quondamship  I  thank  God  that  he  gaue  me  the  grace  to 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  a 


450  THIRD  PART  OF  ^wt  iii. 

*  K.  Hen.  Let  me  embrace  these  sour  adversi- 

ties ^ ; 

*  For  wise  men  say,  it  is  the  wisest  course. 

*  3  Keep.  Why  Hnger  we  ?  let  us  lay  hands  upon 

him. 

*  1  Keep.  Forbear  a  while ;   we'll  hear  a  little 

more. 
K.  Hen.  My  queen,  and  son,  are  gone  to  France 

for  aid ; 
And,  as  I  hear,  the  great  commanding  Warwick 
'  Is  thither  gone,  to  crave  the  French  king's  sister 

*  To  wife  for  Edward  :  If  this  news  be  true, 

'  Poor  queen,  and  son,  your  labour  is  but  lost ; 
'  For  Warwick  is  a  subtle  orator, 

*  And  Lewis  a  prince  soon  won  with  moving  words. 
'  By  this  account,  then,  Margaret  may  win  him  ; 

'  For  she's  a  woman  to  be  pitied  much : 

*  Her  sighs  will  make  a  battery  in  his  breast ; 

*  Her  tears  will  pierce  into  a  marble  heart ; 

*  The  tiger  will  be  mild,  while  she  doth  mourn  ^ ; 

*  And  Nero  will  ^  be  tainted  with  remorse, 

*  To  hear,  and  see,  her  plaints,  her  brinish  tears. 

come  by  it,  by  so  honest  a  meanes  as  I  did;  I  thanke  him  for 
myne-owne  quondamship,  and  as  for  them  I  will  not  haue  them 
made  quondams,  if  they  discharge  their  office.  I  would  luiue  them 
doe  their  duety.  I  would  haue  no  more  qi(o::dams,  as  God  help 
me."     Fol.  53. 

Again,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  b.  v,  ch.  28,  1602  : 

"  Not  knights  alone,  but  prelates  too,   and  queens  whereof 

were  twain, 
"  The  quondam  ct  in  esse  queenes — ."     Holt  White. 

8  —  these  sour  adversities ;]     The  old  copy  reads— i/ic  soiKire 
adversaries.     Steevens. 

Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.     Malone. 

9  The  tiger  will  be  mild,   while  she  doth   mourn;]     So,  in 
Othello : 

"  —  She  will  sing  the  savageness  out  of  a  bear." 

Steevens. 
'  And  Nero  will — ]     Perhaps  we  might  better  read — A  Nero 
will — .     Steevens.  . 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  YI.  451 

*  Ay,  but  she's  come  to  beg  ;  Warwick,  to  give  : 
She,  on  his  left  side,  craving  aid  for  Henry ; 
He,  on  his  right,  asking  a  wife  for  Edward. 

She  weeps,  and  says — her  Henry  is  depos'd  ; 
He  smiles,  and  says — his  Edward  is  install'd ; 

*  That  she,   poor   wretch,   for  grief  can  speak  no 

more : 

*  Whiles  Warwick  tells  his  title,  smooths  the  wrong, 

*  Inferreth  arguments  of  mighty  strength  ' ; 

*  And,  in  conckision,  wins  the  king  from  her, 

*  With  promise  of  his  sister,  and  what  else, 

*  To  strengthen  and  support  king  Edward's  place. 

*  O  Margaret  \  thus  'twill  be ;  and  thou,  poor  soul, 

*  Art  then  forsaken,  as  thou  went'st  forlorn. 

2  Keep.  Say,  what  art  thou,  that  talk'st  of  kings 

and  queens.^ 
'  K.  Hex.  More  than  I  seem,  and  less  than  I  was 
born  to  ^ : 

*  A  man  at  least,  for  less  I  should  not  be  ^ ; 
And  men  may  talk  of  kings,  and  why  not  I  ? 

'  2  Keep.  Ay,  but  thou  talk'st  as  if  thou  wert  a 
king. 

*  Inferreth  arguments  of  mighty  strength  ;]  In  the  former  Act 
was  the  same  line  : 

"  Inferring  arguments  of  mighty  force."  Johnson. 
This  repetition,  like  many  others  in  these  two  plays,  seems  to 
have  arisen  from  Shakspeare's  first  copying  his  original  as  it  lay 
before  him,  and  afterwards  in  subsequent  passages  (added  to  the 
old  matter)  introducing  expressions  which  had  struck  him  in  pre- 
ceding scenes.     In  the  old  play  the  line  occurs  but  once. 

Malone. 

3  O  Margaret,  &c.]  The  piety  of  Henry  scarce  interests  us 
more  for  his  misfortunes,  than  this  his  constant  solicitude  for  the 
welfare  of  his  deceitful  Queen.     Steevens. 

4  — less  than  I  was  born  to  :]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quartos 
thus  : 

" for  less  I  should  not  be."     Steevens. 

5  —  for  less  I  should  not  be  ;]  Such  is  the  reading  of  the 
folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 

" and  more  I  cannot  be."     Steevens. 

Q  r  o 

ri:    yi   /il 


452  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  K.  Hen.  Why,  so  I  am,  in  mind  ° ;  and  that's 

enough  ^. 
2  Keep.  But,  if  thou  be   a  king,  where  is  thy 

crown  ? 
K.  Hen.  My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my 

head ; 

*  Not  deck'd  with  diamonds,  and  Indian  stones, 

*  Nor  to  be  seen :  '  my  crown  is  call'd,  content ; 

*  A  crown  it  is,  that  seldom  kings  enjoy. 

'  2  Keep.  Well,  if  you  be  a  king  crown'd  with 
content. 
Your  crown  content,  and  you,  must  be  contented 
'  To  go  along  with  us  ;  for,  as  we  think, 

*  You  are  the  king,  king  Edward  hath  depos'd  ; 

*  And  we  his  subjects,  sworn  in  all  allegiance  ^ 

*  Will  apprehend  you  as  his  enemy. 

*  K.  Hen.  But  did  you  never  swear,   and  break 

an  oath  .^ 

*  2  Keep.  No,  never  such  an  oath,  nor  will  not 

now. 

*  K.  Hen.  Where  did  you  dwell,  when  I  was 

king  of  England  ? 

*  2  Keep.  Here  in  this  country,  where  we  now 

remain. 

*  K.  Hen.  I  was  anointed  king  at  nine  months 

old; 

*  My  father  and  my  grandfather,  weie  kings ; 

^  —  but  thou  talk'st  as  if  thou  wert  a  king. 
A".  Hen.  Why,  so  I  am,  in  mind;]     There  seems  to  be  an 
allusion  here,  to  a  line  in  an  old  song  by  Sir  Edward  Dyer : 
"  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is."     Malone. 
See  Dt.  Percy's  Reliques   of  Ancient  English  Poetry,  3d  edit, 
vol.  i.  p.  293.     Steevens. 

'  —  and  that's  enough.]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 

"  — —  though  not  in  show."     Steevens. 
®  And  we  his  subjects,  &c,]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos  thus  : 
"  And  therefore  we  charge  you  in  God's  name,   and  the 

king's, 
"  To  go  along  with  us  unto  the  officers."     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  453 

*  And  you  were  sworn  true  subjects  unto  me  : 

*  And,  tell  me  then,  have  you  not  broke  your  oaths  ? 

*  1  Keep.  No  ; 

For  we  were  subjects,  but  while  you  were  king. 

*  K.  Hen.  Why,  am  I  dead  .^  do  I  not  breathe  a 

man  ? 

*  Ah,  simple  men,  you  know  not  what  you  swear. 

*  Look,  as  I  blow  this  feather  from  my  face, 

*  And  as  the  air  blows  it  to  me  again  '^^ 

*  Obeying  with  my  wind  when  I  do  blow, 

*  And  yielding  to  another  when  it  blows, 

*  Commanded  always  by  the  greater  gust ; 

*  Such  is  the  Hghtness  of  you  common  men. 

*  But  do  not  break  your  oaths  ;  for,  of  that  sin 

*  My  mild  entreaty  shall  not  make  you  guilty. 

*  Go  where  you  will,  the  king  shall  be  commanded; 

*  And  be  you  kings;  command,  and  I'll  obey. 

*  1  Keep.  We  are  true  subjects  to   the    king, 

king  Edward. 

*  K.  Hen.  So  would  you  be  again  to  Henry, 

*  If  he  were  seated  as  king  Edward  is. 

1  Keep.  We  charge  you,  in  God's  name,  and  in 

the  king's  \ 
To  go  with  us  unto  the  officers. 

^  K.  Hen.  In  God's  name,   lead  ^;    your   king's 

name  be  obey'd : 

9  Look,  as  I  blow  this  feather  from  my  face. 
And  as  the  air  blows  it  to  rae  again,  &c.]  So,  in  The  Winter's 
Tale : 

"  I  am  a  feather  for  each  wind  that  blows."     Malone. 
I  —  and  IN  the  king's,]     The  preposition — in,  which  is  want- 
ing in  the  old  copy,  I  have  supplied  for  the  sake  of  metre. 

Steevens. 
^  In  God's  name,  lead  ;  &c.]     So  the  folio.     Instead  of  this 
speech,  the  quartos  have  the  following  : 

"  God's  name  be  fulfiU'd,  your  king's  name  be 
"  Obey'd;  and  be  you  kings  ;  command,  and  I'll  obey," 

Steevens. 


454  THIRD  PART  OF  yJCT  iii. 

*  And  what  God  will,  then  let  your  king  perform  ; 
^  And  what  he  will,  I  humbly  yield  unto.   [E.veunL 


SCENE   II. 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Edward,  Gloster,   Clarence,  and 

Lady  Grey. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Brother  of  Gloster,  at  Saint  Albans' 
field 

*  This  lady's  husband,  sir  John  Grey  '^,  was  slain, 
His  lands  then  seiz'd  on  by  the  conqueror : 
Her  suit  is  now,  to  repossess  those  lands  ; 

'  Which  we  in  justice  cannot  well  deny. 
Because  in  quarrel  of  the  house  of  York 

*  The  worthy  gentleman  did  lose  his  life  *. 


3  —  sir  John  Grey,]  Vid.  Hall,  Third  Year  of  Edward  IV. 
folio  5.     It  was  hitherto  falsely  printed  Richard.     Pope. 

4  His  lands  then  seiz'd  on  by  the  coNauEROR  : 
Her  suit  is  now,  to  repossess  those  lands  ; 
Which  we  injustice  cannot  well  deny, 
Because  in  quarrel  of  the  house  of  York 

The  worthy  gentleman  did  lose  his  life.]  This  is  in  every 
particular  a  falsification  of  history.  Sir  John  Grey  fell  in  the 
second  battle  of  St.  Albans,  which  was  fought  on  Shrove-Tuesday, 
Feb.  17,  14-60-1,  fighting  on  the  side  of  King  tlenry  ;  and  so  far 
is  it  from  being  true  that  his  lands  were  seized  by  the  conqueror, 
(Queen  Margaret,)  that  they  were  in  fact  seized  by  the  very  per- 
son who  now  speakf^,  after  his  great  victory  at  Towton,  on  the  29th 
of  March,  1461.     The  present  scene  is  laid  in  14'64>. 

Shakspeare  in  new  moulding  this  play  followed  implicitly  his 
author,  (for  these  five  lines,  with  only  a  slight  variation  in  the 
third,  and  fifth,  are  found  in  the  old  play,)  without  giving  him- 
self the  trouble  to  examine  the  history ;  but  a  few  years  after- 
wards, when  he  had  occasion  to  write  his  Richard  HI.  and  was 
not  warped  by  a  preceding  misrepresentation  of  another  writer,  he 
stated  from  the  chronicles  this  matter  truly  as  it  was ;  and  this  is 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  455 

Glo.  Your  highness  shall  do  well,  to  grant  her 
suit; 

*  It  were  dishonour,  to  deny  it  her. 

K.  Enrr.  It  were  no  less ;  but  yet  I'll  make  a 
pause. 

*  Glo.  Yea  !  is  it  so^  ? 

I  see,  the  lady  hath  a  thing  to  grant, 
Before  the  king  will  grant  her  humble  suit. 

Clu4r.  He  knows  the  game  :  How  true  he  keeps 
the  wind  ?  [Aside. 

Glo.  Silence!  {Aside. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Widow,  we  will  consider  ^  of  your  suit ; 

*  And  come  some  other  time,  to  know  our  mind. 

*  L.  Grey.  Right  gracious  lord,  I  cannot  brook 

delay : 

*  May  it  please  your  highness  to  resolve  me  now ; 

*  And  what  your  pleasure  is,  shall  satisfy  me. 

'  Glo.   [Aside.']  Ay,  widow  ?  then  I'll  warrant  you 
all  your  lands, 

*  An  if  what  pleases  him,  shall  pleasure  you. 

'  Fight  closer,  or,  good  faith,  you'll  catch  a  blow. 

*  Clar.  I  fear  her  not,  unless  she  chance  to  fall. 

[Aside. 

one  of  the  numerous  circumstances  that  prove  incontestably,  in 
my  ap'Drehension,  that  he  was  not  the  original  author  of  this  and 
the  precedinf^  plfiy- 

In  King  Richard  III,  Act  I.  Sc,  III.  Richard  addressing  himself 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  (the  lady  Grey  of  the  present  Scene,)  says: 
"  In  all  which  time  you,  and  your  husband  Greij, 
"  Were  factious_/or  the  house  of  Lancaster  ; 
"  (And  Rivers  so  were  you  :) — was  not  your  husband 
"  In  MarmreVs  battle  at  Saint  Albans  slain  ?  " 
He  calls  it  Margaret's  battle,  because  she  was  there  victorious. 

Malone. 
5  Glo.  Yea !  is  it  so  ?  &c.]     So  the   folio.     The  quartos  read 
with  the  following  variations  : 

"  Glo.  \,  is  the  wind  in  that  door  ? 
"  Clarence.  I  see  the  lady,"  &c.     Steevens. 
^  Widow,  we  will  consider — ]   This  is  a  very  lively  and  spritely 
dialogue  ;  the  reciprocation  is  quicker  than  is  common  in  Shak- 
speare.     Johnson. 


456  THIRD  PART  OF  act  m, 

*  Glo,  God  forbid  that !    for  he'll  take  vantages. 

\^  Aside. 
'  K.  Enrr.  How  many  children  hast  thou,  widow  ? 

tell  me. 
Clar.  I  think,  he  means  to  beg  a  child  of  her. 

\As'uh. 
Glo.  Nay,  whip  me  then  ;  he'll  rather  give  her 

two.  \_Asidc. 

L.  Grey.  Three,  my  most  gracious  lord. 
Glo.  You  shall  have  four,  if  you'll  be  ruVd  by 

him.  [Aside. 

*  K.  EDTr.  'Twere  pity,  they  should  lose  their 

father's  land. 
L.  Grey.  Be  pitiful,  dread  lord,  and  grant  it  then. 
K.  Edtf.  Lords,  give  us  leave;  1 11  try  this  widow's 

wit. 
Glo.  Ay,  good  leave  have  you  ^ ;  for  you  will  have 
leave, 
*  Till  youth  take  leave,  and  leave  you  to  the  crutch. 
\Gloster  and  Clarence  retire  to  the  other 
side. 

*  K.  Eorr.  Now  tell  me,  madam,  do  you  love 

your  children  ? 

*  L.  Grey.  Ay,  full  as  dearly  as  I  love  myself. 

*  K.  Edtf.  And  would  you  not  do  much,  to  do 

them  good  ? 

*  L.  Grey.  To  do  them  good,  I  would  sustain 

some  harm. 

*  K.  Enrr.  Then  get  your  husband's  lands,  to  do 

them  good. 

*  L.  Grey.  Therefore  I  came  unto  your  majesty. 
K.  Edw.  I'll  tell  you  how  these  lands  are  to  be  got. 

*  L.  Grey.  So  shall  you  bind  me  to  your  high- 

ness' service. 


7  —  GOOD  LEAVE  havc  you  ;]     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  Good  leave;  good  Philip." 
Good  leave,  are  words  implying  readiness  (i/'asaent.    SxEEViiNSi. 


sc.  Ji.  KING  HENRY  VI.  457 

*  K.  Enrr.  What  service  wilt  thou  do  me,  if  I 

give  them  ? 

*  L.  Grey.  What  you  command,  that  rests  in  me 

to  do. 

*  K.  Edjf.  But  you  will  take  exceptions  to  my 

boon. 

*  L.  Grey.  No,  gracious  lord,  except  I  cannot 

do  it. 

*  K.  Enrr.  Ay,  but  thou  canst  do  what  I  mean 

to  ask. 

*  L.  Grey.  Why,  then  I  will  do  what  your  grace 

commands. 

*  Glo.  He  plies  her  hard ;  and  much  rain  wears 

the  marbled  [Aside. 

*  Clar.  As  red  as  fire  !   nay,  then  her  wax  must 

melt.  \_Amle. 

L.  Grey.  Why   stops  my  lord  .^  shall  I  not  hear 

my  task  .^ 
K.  Edw.  An  easy  task  ;  'tis  but  to  love  a  king. 
L.  Grey.  That's  soon  perform'd,  because  I  am  a 

subject. 
K.  EDjr.  Why  then,  thy  husband's  lands  I  freely 

give  thee. 
L.  Grey.  I  take  my  leave  with  many  thousand 

thanks. 
Glo.  The  match  is  made ;  she  seals  it  with  a 

curtsy. 
'  K.  EDTf\  But  stay  thee,  'tis  the  fruits  of  love  I 
mean. 

*  L.  Grey.  The  fruits  of  love  I  mean,  my  loving 

liege. 

*  K.  Edw.  Ay,  but,  I  fear  me,  in  another  sense. 
What  love,  think  st  thou,  I  sue  so  much  to  get  ? 

8  —  much  rain  wears  the  marble.]     So,  in  Watson's   47th 
Sonnet : 

'*  In  time  the  marble iveares  with  weakest  showres." 

See  note  in  Dodslcy's    Collection   of  Old  Plays,  edit.  1780^ 
vol.  xii.  p.  387.     Steevens. 


458  THIRD  PART  OF  act  in, 

*  L.  Grey.    My  love   till  death  ^    my   humble 

thanks,  my  prayers  ; 

*  That  love,  vi^hich  virtue  begs,  and  virtue  grants. 

K.  Edw.  No,  by  my  troth,  I  did  not  mean  such 
love. 

*  L.  Grey.  Why,  then  you  mean  not  as  I  thought 

you  did. 

*  K.  Edw.  But  now  you  partly  may  perceive  my 

mind. 

*  L.  Grey.  My  mind   will  never  grant  what  I 

perceive 

*  Your  highness  aims  at,  if  I  aim  aright. 

K.  Edw.  To  tell  thee  plain,  I  aim  to  lie  with 
thee. 

*  L.  Grey.  To  tell  you  plain,  I  had  rather  lie  in 

prison . 
K.  Edw.  Why,  then  thoushalt  not  have  thy  hus- 
band's lands. 
L,  Grey.  Why,  then  mine  honesty  shall  be  my 
dower ; 
For  by  that  loss  I  will  not  purchase  them. 

'  K.  Edw.   Therein  thou  wrong'st  thy  children 

mightily. 
L.  Grey.  Herein  your  highness  wrongs  both  them 
and  me. 
But,  mighty  lord,  this  merry  inclination 
'  Accords  not  with  the  sadness  ^  of  :ny  suit ; 
Please  you  dismiss  me,  either  with  ay,  or  no. 

K.  Edw.  Ay  ;  if  thou  wilt  say  ay,  to  my  request : 
No ;  if  thou  dost  say  no,  to  my  demand. 


9  My  love  till  death,  &c.]     The  variation  is  here  worth  noting. 
In  the  old  play  we  here  find — 

"  My  humble  service,  such  as  subjects  owe, 
"  And  the  laws  command."     Malone. 
'  —  the   SADNESS — ]     i.  e.    the  seriousness.     So,  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet : 

"  Tell  me  in  sadness  who  is  she  you  love."     Steevens. 


sc.  Ji.  KING  HENRY  VI.  459 

L.  Grey.  Then,  no,  my  lord.  My  suit  is  at  an 
end. 

*  Glo.  The  widow  likes  him  not,  she  knits  her 

brows.  [Aside. 

Clar.  He  is  the  bluntest  wooer  in  Christendom. 

\_Aside. 

'  K.  Edw.  [Aside^  Her  looks  do  argue  her  re- 
plete with  modesty  " ; 

*  Her  words  do  show  her  wit  incomparable  ; 

*  All  her  perfections  challenge  sovereignty  : 
One  way,  or  other,  she  is  for  a  king ; 

And  she  shall  be  my  love,  or  else  my  queen. — 
Say,  that  king  Edward  take  thee  for  his  queen  ? 
L.  Grey.  Tis  better  said  than  done,  my  gracious 
lord : 
I  am  a  subject  fit  to  jest  withal, 
But  far  unfit  to  be  a  sovereign. 

K.  Edjf.  Sweet  widow,  by  my  state  I  swear  to 
thee, 
I  speak  no  more  than  what  my  soul  intends  ; 
And  that  is,  to  enjoy  thee  for  my  love. 

L.  Grey.    And  that  is  more  than  I   will  yield 
unto  : 

*  1  know,  I  am  too  mean  to  be  your  queen ; 
And  yet  too  good  to  be  your  concubine  '^ 

*  Her  looks  do  argue  her  replete  with  modesty ;]  So  the 
folio.     The  quartos  read  : 

"  Her  looks  are  all  replete  with  majesty."'     Steevens. 

3  And  yet  too  good  to  be  your  concubine.]  So,  in  Warner's 
Albion's  England,  1602,  b.  vii.  chap,  xxxiv.  : 

"  His  plea  was  love,  my  suit  was  land  :   I  plie  him,  he  plies  me  ; 

"  Too  bace  to  be  his  queen,  too  good  his  concubine  to  be." 

Shakspeare,  however,  adopted  the  words  from  Stowe's  Chro- 
nicle.    Steevens. 

These  words,  which  are  found  in  the  old  play,  (except  that  we 
have  there  bad,  instead  of  mean,)  were  taken  by  the  author  of 
that  piece  from  Hall's  Chronicle:  " — whiche  demaund  she  so 
wyscly  and  with  so  covert  speeche  aunswered  and  re])ugned,  afliyrm- 
yng  that  as  she  was  for  his  honour  far  unable  to  be  his  spouse 


460  THIRD  PART  OF  act  in. 

K.  Edw.  You  cavil,   widow;  I    did   mean,  my 

queen. 
L.  Grey.  'Twill    grieve    your  grace,    my    sons 

should  call  you — father. 
K.  Edw.   No  more,  than  when  thy  daughters 
call  thee  mother. 
Thou  art  a  widow  ^,  and  thou  hast  some  children  ; 
And,  by  God's  mother,  I,  being  but  a  bachelor. 
Have  other  some  :  why,  'tis  a  happy  thing 
To  be  the  father  unto  many  sons. 
*  Answer  no  more,  for  thou  shalt  be  my  queen. 
Glo.  The  ghostly  father  now  hath  done  his  shrift. 

\As'ide. 

Clar.  When  he  was  made  a  shriver,  'twas  for 

shift.  \_j4side. 

K.  Edw.  Brothers,  you  muse  what  chat  we  two 

have  had. 
*  Glo.  The  widow  likes  it  not,'  for  she  looks  very 

sad^. 
K.  Edw.  You'd  think  it  strange  if  I  should  marry 

her. 
Clar.  To  whom,  my  lord '? 
K.  Edw.  Why,  Clarence,  to  myself. 

Glo.  That  would  be  ten  days'  wonder,  at  the  least. 
Clar.  That's  a  day  longer  than  a  wonder  lasts  ^ 

and  bedfellowe,  so  for  her  awne  poor  honestie  she  was  to  good 
to  be  either  his  concubine,  or  sovereigne  lady  ;  that  where  he 
was  a  littel  before  heated  with  the  dart  of  Cupido,  he  was  nowe," 
&c.     Malone. 

•*  Thou  art  a  vvidow,  &c.]  This  is  part  of  the  King's  reply  to 
his  mother  in  Stowe's  Chronicle  :  "  That  she  is  a  widow,  and 
hath  already  children ;  by  God's  blessed  lady  I  am  a  batchelor, 
and  have  some  too,  and  so  each  of  us  hath  a  proofe  that  neither 
of  us  is  like  to  be  barrain,"  &c.     Steevens. 

It  is  found  also  in  Hall's  Chronicle,  but  is  copied  almost  verbatim 
from  Sir  Thomas  More's  History  of  King  Richard  III.     Malone, 

5  —  she  looks  sad.]  Old  copy — very  sad.  For  the  sake  of 
metre  I  have  omitted  this  useless  adverb.     Steevens, 

^  That's  a  day  longer,  &c,]     A  nine  days  wonder  was  prover- 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  461 

*  Glo.  By  so  much  is  the  wonder  in  extremes. 
K.  Enir.   Well,  jest  on,  brothers  :  I  can  tell  you 
both, 
Her  suit  is  granted  for  her  husband's  lands. 

Enter  a  Nobleman. 

Nob.  My  gracious  lord,  Henry  your  foe  is  taken, 

*  And  brought  your  prisoner  to  your  palace  gate. 

K.  Ed  jr.    See,    that    he  be  convey'd  unto  the 
Tower  : — ■ 
'  And  go  we,  brothers,  to  the  man  that  took  him, 

*  To  question  of  his  apprehension. — 

*  Widow,  go  you  along; — Lords,  use  her  honourable. 

[E.veunt  King  Edward,  Lady  Grey,   Cla- 
rence, and  Lord. 
Glo.  Ay,  Edward  will  use  women  honourably. 
'Would  he  were  wasted,  marrow,  bones,  and  all, 

*  That  from  his  loins  no  hopeful  branch  may  spring, 
'  To  cross  me  from  the  golden  time  I  look  for  ! 

'  And  yet,  between  my  soul's  desire,  and  me, 

*  (The  lustful  Edward's  title  buried,) 

'  Is  Clarence,  Henry,  and  his  son  young  Edward, 

*  And  all  the  unlook'd-for  issue  of  their  bodies, 

*  To  take  their  rooms,  ere  1  can  place  myself: 
A  cold  premeditation  for  my  purpose  ! 

*  Why,  then  I  do  but  dream  on  sovereignty  ; 

*  Like  one  that  stands  upon  a  promontory, 

*  And  spies  a  far-offshore  where  he  would  tread, 

*  Wishing  his  foot  were  equal  with  his  eye ; 

*  And  chides  the  sea  that  sunders  him  from  thence, 

*  Saying — he'll  lade  it  dry  to  have  his  way : 

*  So  do  I  wish  the  crown,  being  so  far  off; 

*  And  so  I  chide  the  means  that  keep  me  from  it; 

bial.  Thus,  in  a  Sermon  at  Paul's  Crosse,  Nov.  25,  1621,  bv 
Henry  King,  p.  53  :  "  For  mendacia  diu  non  fallunt,  and  having 
arrived  at  nine  days,  the  age  of  n  tvondcr,  died  in  langhte?'." 

llEEn. 


462  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iii. 

*  And  so  I  say — I'll  cut  the  causes  off, 

*  Flattering  me  with  impossibilities. — 

*  My  eye's  too  quick,  my  heart  o'erweens  too  much, 

*  Unless  my  hand  and  strength  could  equal  them. 

*  Well,  say  there  is  no  kingdom  then  for  Richard : 

*  What  other  pleasure  can  the  world  afford  ? 
'  I'll  make  my  heaven  '  in  a  lady's  lap, 

'  And  deck  my  body  in  gay  ornaments, 
And  witch  sweet  ladies  with  my  words  and  looks. 
'  O  miserable  thought !  and  more  unlikely, 
'  Than  to  accomplish  twenty  golden  crowns ! 
Why,  love  foreswore  me  in  my  mother's  womb  ^ : 
'  And,  for  I  should  not  deal  in  her  soft  laws, 
'  She  did  corrupt  frail  nature  with  some  bribe 

*  To  shrink  mine  arm  up  like  a  wither'd  shrub  '^ ; 

*  To  make  an  envious  mountain  on  my  back. 
Where  sits  deformity  to  mock  my  body; 

'  To  shape  my  legs  of  an  unequal  size ; 

*  To  disproportion  me  in  every  part, 

*  Like  to  a  chaos,  or  an  unlick'd  bear-whelp ', 

*  That  carries  no  impression  like  the  dam. 
And  am  I  then  a  man  to  be  belov'd  ? 

O,  monstrous  fault,  to  harbour  such  a  thought ! 
Then,  since  this  earth  affords  no  joy  to  me, 


% 


7  I'll  make  my  heaven,  &:c.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quartos 
alter  and  transpose  the  two  lines,  as  follows  : 

"  I  will^o  clad  my  body  ixith  gay  ornaments, 

"  And  lull  myself  tvilliin  a  lady's  lap."     Steevens. 

^  —  love  forswore  me  in  my  mother's  womb  :]  This  line  is 
found  also  in  a  play  entitled  Wily  Beguiled.  The  earliest  edition 
that  1  have  seen  of  that  piece,  was  printed  in  1606;  but  it  had 
been  exhibited  on  the  stage  soon  after  the  year  1590.     Malone. 

9  — like  a  wither'd  shrub  :]  So  the  folio.  The  quartos — like 
a  wither'd  shrimp.     Steevens. 

'  —  unlick'd  bear-whelp,]  It  was  an  opinion  which,  in  spite 
of  its  absurdity,  prevailed  long,  that  the  bear  brings  forth  only 
shapeless  lumps  of  animated  flesh,  which  she  licks  into  the  form 
of  ])ears.  It  is  now  well  known  that  the  whelps  of  the  bear  are 
produced  in  the  same  state  with  those  of  other  creatures. 

Johnson. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  463 

*  But  to  command,  to  check,  to  o'erbear  such 

*  As  are  of  better  person  than  myself", 

*  I'll  make  my  heaven — to  dream  upon  the  crown  ; 

*  And,  whiles  I  live,  to  account  this  world  but  hell, 

*  Until  my  mis-shap'd  trunk  that  bears  this  head, 

*  Be  round  impaled  with  a  glorious  crown  ^. 

*  And  yet  I  know  not  how  to  get  the  crovATi, 

*  For  many  lives  stand  between  me  and  home  : 

*  And  I, — like  one  lost  in  a  thorny  word, 

*  That  rents  the  thorns,  and  is  rent  with  the  thorns  ; 

*  Seeking  a  way,  and  straying  from  the  way  ; 

*  Not  knowing  how  to  find  the  open  air, 

*  But  toiling  desperately  to  find  it  out, — 

*  Torment  myself  to  catch  the  Enghsh  crown  : 

*  And  from  that  torment  I  will  free  myself, 

*  Or  hew  my  way  out  with  a  bloody  axe. 
Why,  I  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I  smile ; 

^  to  o'erbear  such 


As  are  of  better  person  than  myself,]  Richard  speaks  here 
the  language  of  nature.  Whoever  is  stigmatized  with  deformity 
has  a  constant  source  of  envy  in  his  mind,  and  would  counter- 
balance by  some  other  superiority  those  advantages  which  he  feels 
himself  to  want.  Bacon  remarks  that  the  deformed  are  com- 
monly daring  ;  and  it  is  almost  proverbially  observed  that  they 
are  ill-natured.  The  truth  is,  that  the  deformed,  like  all  other 
men,  are  displeased  with  inferiority,  and  endeavour  to  gain  ground 
by  good  or  bad  means,  as  they  are  virtuous  or  corrupt. 

Johnson. 
12         3  4         5       6        7       8 

J  Until  my  mis-shap'd  trunk  that  bears  this  head. 
Be  round  impaled,  ii-c]     A  transposition  seems  to  be  neces- 
sary : 

12       8       5       7         3  4  6 

"  Until  my  head,  that  this  mis-shap'd  trunk  bears." 
Otherwise  the   '  trunk  that  bears  the  head '  is  to  be  encircled 
with  the  crown,  and  not  tlie  head  itself.     Steevens. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  as  Mr.  Steevens  recommends.     I  believe 
our  author  is  answerable  for  this  inaccuracy.     Malone. 

"  —  impaled — "  i.e.  encircled.     So,  in  Heywood's   Rape  of 
Lucrece,   1G30 : 

"  Tear  off  the  crown  that  yet  empales  his  temples." 

Steevens. 


464  THIRD  PART  OF  act  in. 

'  And  cry,  content,  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart; 

*  And  wet  my  cheeks  with  artificial  tears, 
''•  And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasions. 

*  I'll  drown  more  sailors  than  the  mermaid  shall ; 

*  I'll  slay  more  gazers  than  the  basilisk; 

*  I'll  play  the  orator  as  well  as  Nestor, 

*  Deceive  more  slily  than  Ulysses  could, 

*  And,  like  a  Sinon,  take  another  Troy  : 
I  can  add  colours  to  the  cameleon ; 

*  Change  shapes,  with  Proteus,  for  advantages, 
'  And  set  the  murd'rous  Machiavel  to  school  \ 
Can  I  do  this,  and  cannot  get  a  crown  ? 

*  Tut!  were  it  further  off,  I'll  pluck  it  down. 

4  And  set  the  murd'rous  Machiavel  to  school.]     As  this  is  art 
anachronism,  and  the  old  quarto  reads  : 

"  And  set  the  aspiring  Catiline  to  school — " 
I  don't  know  why  it  should  not  be  preferred.     Warburton. 

This  is  not  the  first  proof  I  have  met  with,  that  Shakspeare,  in 
his  attempts  to  familiarize  ideas,  has  diminished  their  propriety. 

Steevens. 
Catiline  first  occurred  to  the  author  of  the  old  play,  who  was 
probably  a  scholar  :  and  Machiavel,  who  is  mentioned  in  various 
books  of  our  author's  age,  as  the  great  exemplar  of  profound 
politicians,  naturally  was  substituted  by  Shakspeare  in  his  room. 
See  this  play,  Part  I.  Act  V.  Sc.  IV. : 

"  Alen^on  !  that  notorious  Machiavel !  " 
In  King  Edward  II.   Marlowe,  who  was  probably  the  author  of 
The  True  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,   in  like  manner 
introduces  Catiline  : 

"  Spencer,  the  father  of  that  wanton  Spencer, 

"  That  like  the  lawless  Catiline  of  Rome, 

"  Revell'd  in  England's  wealth  and  treasury."     Malone. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI,  4G5 

SCENE  III. 

France.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Flourish.  Enter  Letfis  the  Frc??ch  King,  and 
Lady  Bon.^,  attended;  the  King  takes  his  State. 
Then  enter  Queen  Margaret,  Prince  Edtfard 
her  Son,  and  the  Earl  of  Oxford. 

'  K.  Letf.  Fair  queen  of  England  %  worthy  Mar- 
garet, \_Rising. 

*  Sit  down"  with  us  ;  it  ill  befits  thy  state, 

*  And  birth,  that  thou  should'st  stand,  while  Lewis 

doth  sit. 
*  Q.  Mar.  No,  mighty  king  of  France^;    now 
Margaret 

*  Must  strike  her  sail,  and  learn  a  while  to  serve, 

*  Where  kings  command.     I  was,  I  must  confess, 

*  Great  Albion's  queen  in  former  golden  days : 

*  But  now  mischance  hath  trod  my  title  down, 

*  And  with  dishonour  laid  me  on  the  ground  ; 

*  Where  I  must  take  hke  seat  unto  my  fortune, 

*  And  to  my  humble  seat  conform  myself. 

s  Fair  queen  of  England,  &c.]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos 
give  the  following : 

"  Welcome,  queen  Margaret,  to  the  court  of  France. 
"  It  fits  not  Lewis  to  sit  while  thou  dost  stand. 
"■  Sit  by  my  side  ;  and  here  I  vow  to  thee, 
"  Thou  shalt  have  aid  to  re-possess  thy  right, 
"  And  beat  proud  Edward  from  his  usurped  seat, 
"  And  place  king  Henry  in  his  former  rule."     Steevens. 
^  No,  mighty  king  of  France,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  speech  the 
quartos  only  supply  the  following  : 

"  Qtieen.  I  humbly  thank  your  royal  majesty, 
"  And  pray  the  God  of  heaven  to  bless  thy  state, 
"  Great  king  of  France,  that  thus  regard's!  our  wrongs." 

Steevens. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2    II 


466  THIRD  PART  OF  act  in. 

*  K,  Lew.  Why,  say,  fair  queen,  whence  springs 

this  deep  despair  ? 

*  Q.  Mar.  From  such  a  cause  as  fills  mine  eyes 

with  tears, 

*  And  stops  my  tongue,  while  heart  is  drown'd  in 

cares. 

*  K.  Lew.  Whate'er  it  be,  be  thou  still  like  thy- 

self, 

*  And  sit  thee  by  our  side  :  yield  not  thy  neck 

\Seats  her  by  Jiim. 

*  To  fortune's  yoke,  but  let  thy  dauntless  mind 

*  Still  ride  in  triumph  over  all  mischance. 

*  Be  plain,  queen  Rlargaret,  and  tell  thy  grief ; 

*  It  shall  be  eas'd,  if  France  can  yield  relief. 

*  Q.   Mar.     Those   gracious  words   revive   my 

drooping  thoughts, 

*  And  give  my  tongue-tied  sorrows  leave  to  speak. 

*  Now,  therefore,  be  it  known  to  noble  Lewis, — 

*  That  Henry,  sole  possessor  of  my  love, 

*  Is,  of  a  king,  become  a  banish'd  man, 

*  And  forc'd  to  live  in  Scotland  a  forlorn ; 

*  While  proud  ambitious  Edward,  duke  of  York, 

*  Usurps  the  regal  title,  and  the  seat 

*  Of  England's  true-anointed  lawful  king. 

*  This  is  the  cause,  that  I,  poor  Margaret, — 

*  With  this  my  son,  prince  Edward,  Henry's  heir, — 

*  Am  come  to  crave  thy  just  and  lawful  aid; 

*  And,  if  thou  fail  us,  all  our  hope  is  done  : 

*  Scotland  hath  will  to  help,  but  cannot  help ; 

*  Our  people  and  our  peers  are  both  misled, 

*  Our  treasure  seiz'd,  our  soldiers  put  to  flight, 

*  And,  as  thou  see'st,  ourselves  in  heavy  plight. 

*  K.  Letf.  Renowned  queen,  with  patience  calm 

the  storm, 

*  While  we  bethink  a  means  to  break  it  off. 

*  Q.  Mar.  The  more  we  stay,  the  stronger  grows 

our  foe. 


sc.  in.  KING  HENRY  VI.  467 

*  K.  Letf.  The  more  I  stay,  the  more  Til  suc- 

cour thee. 

*  Q.  Mar.  O,  but  impatience  waiteth  on  true 

sorrow : 
*  And  see  where  comes  the  breeder  of  my  sorrow. 

Enter  Wartfick"^ ^  attended. 

'  K.  Letf.  What's  he,  approacheth  boldly  to  our 
presence  .^ 

7  Enter  IVarivicIc,']  This  nobleman's  embassy  and  commission, 
the  insult  he  receives  by  the  King's  hasty  marriage,  and  his  con- 
sequent resolution  to  avenge  it,  with  the  capture,  imprisonment, 
and  escape  of  the  King,  Shakspeare,  it  is  true,  found  in  Hall 
and  Holinshed  ;  but  later,  as  well  as  earlier  writers,  of  better 
authority,  incline  us  to  discredit  the  whole  ;  and  to  refer  the 
rupture  between  the  King  and  his  political  creator,  to  causes 
which  have  not  reached  posterity,  or  to  that  jealousy  and  ingra- 
titude so  natural,  perhaps,  to  those  who  are  under  great  obliga- 
tions too  great  to  be  discharged.  "  Beneficia  (says  Tacitus,)  eo 
usque  laeta  sunt,  dum  videntur  exsolvi  posse :  ubi  multum  ante- 
venere,  pro  gratia  odium  redditur." 

There  needs  no  other  proof  how  little  our  common  histories 
are  to  be  depended  upon  than  this  fabulous  story  of  Warwick 
and  the  Lady  Bona.  The  King  was  privately  married  to  Lady 
Elizabeth  Widville,  in  1463,  and  in  February,  1465,  Warwick 
actually  stood  sponsor  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth  their  first  child. 
What  secretly  displeased  him  was:  1.  the  King's  marrying  one 
of  the  Queen's  sisters  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  2.  his  con- 
ferring the  office  of  Lord  Treasurer  (which  he  had  taken  from  the 
Lord  Montjoy,)  upon  Lord  Rivers,  the  Queen's  brother;  3.  his 
making  a  match  between  the  son  and  heir  of  the  Lord  Herbert 
and  another  of  the  Queen's  sisters  ;  and  between  that  nobleman's 
daughter  and  the  young  Lord  Lisle ;  and  creating  young  Herbert 
Knight  and  Lord  of  Dunstar;  4.  his  making  a  match  between 
Sir  Thomas  Grey,  the  Queen's  son,  and  Lady  Ann,  daughter  and 
heiress  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  the  King's  niece,  who  had  been 
talked  of  as  a  wife  for  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  Warwick's 
brother.  See  Wilhelmi  Wyrcester  Annales,  which  are  unfor- 
tunately defective  from  the  beginning  of  November,  14-68,  atwhich 
time  no  open  rupture  had  taken  place  between  the  King  and 
Warwick,  who,  for  any  thing  that  appears  to  the  contrary,  were, 
at  least,  ttpon  speaking  terms."     Ritson. 

2n  2 


468  THIRD  PART  OF  act  hi. 

Q.  Mar.  Our  earl  of  Warwick,  Edward's  greatest 

friend. 
K.  Lejf.  Welcome,  brave  Warwick !  What  brings 

thee  to  France  ? 
[Descending from  his  state.     Queen  Margaret 

rises. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Ay,  now  begins  a  second  storm  to  rise ; 

*  For  this  is  he  that  moves  both  wind  and  tide. 

'  IFar.  From  worthy  Edward,  king  of  Albion, 
My  lord  and  sovereign,  and  thy  vowed  friend, 
I  come, —  in  kindness,  and  unfeigned  love, — 
First,  to  do  greetings  to  thy  royal  person  ; 
And,  then,  to  crave  a  league  of  amity ; 
And,  lastly,  to  confirm  that  amity 
With  nuptial  knot,  if  thou  vouchsafe  to  grant 
That  virtuous  lady  Bona,  thy  fair  sister, 
To  England's  king  in  lawful  marriage. 

*  Q.  Mar.  If  that  go  forward,  Henry's  hope  is 

done^. 
ffAR.  And,  gracious  madam,  [To  Bona.^  in  our 
king's  behalf, 

•  I  am  commanded,  with  your  leave  and  favour. 
Humbly  to  kiss  your  hand,  and  with  my  tongue 
To  tell  the  passion  of  my  sovereign's  heart ; 
Where  fame,  late  entering  at  his  heedful  ears. 
Hath  plac'd  thy  beauty's  image,  and  thy  virtue  ^. 

^  —  Henry's  hope  is  done.]  So  the  folio.  The  quartos  read  : 
— all  our  hope  is  done.     Steevens. 

We  have  had  nearly  the  same  line  in  Margaret's  former  sj)eech, 
p.  460.  The  line  having  made  an  impression  on  Shakspeare,  he 
introduced  it  in  that  speech,  which  appears  (except  in  this  in- 
stance) to  have  been  entirely  his  own  production  ;  and  afterwards 
inadvertently  suffered  it  with  a  slioht  variation  to  remain  here, 
where  alone  it  is  found  in  the  old  play.     Malone. 

9  Hath  plac'd  thy  beauty's  image,  and  thy  virtue.]  So  the 
folio.     The  quarto  thus  : 

"  Hath  plac'd  thy  glorious  image,  and  thy  vertues." 

Steevens. 


sc.  in,  KING  HENRY  VI.  4G9 

Q.  Mar.  King  Lewis, — and  lady  Bona, — hear  me 
speak, 

*  Before  you  answer  Warwick.     His  demand  ^ 

*  Springs  not  from   Edward's  well-meant  honest 

love, 

*  But  from  deceit,  bred  by  necessity ; 

*  For  how  can  tyrants  safely  govern  home, 

*  Unless  abroad  they  purchase  great  alliance  .^ 

*  To  prove  him  tyrant  this  reason  may  suffice, — 

*  That  Henry  liveth  still :  but  were  he  dead, 

*  Yet  here  prince  Edward  stands,  king  Henry's  son. 

*  Look  therefore,  Lewis,  that  by  this  league  and 

marriage 

*  Thou  draw  not  on  thy  danger  and  dishonour : 

*  For  though  usurpers  sway  the  rule  a  while, 

*  Yet  heavens  are  just,  and  time  suppresseth  wrongs. 

War.  Injurious  Margaret ! 

Prince.  And  why  not  queen  ? 

War.  Because  thy  father  Henry  did  usurp  ; 
And  thou  no  more  art  prince,  than  she  is  queen. 

OxF.  Then   Warwick  disannuls  great  John  of 
Gaunt, 
Which  did  subdue  the  greatest  part  of  Spain  ; 
And,  after  John  of  Gaunt,  Henry  the  fourth, 

*  Whose  wisdom  was  a  mirror  to  the  wisest ' ; 
And,  after  that  wise  prince,  Henry  the  Fifth, 
Who  by  his  prowess  conquered  all  France  : 
From  these  our  Henry  lineally  descends. 

War.  Oxford,  how  haps  it,  in  this  smooth  dis- 
course. 
You  told  not,  how  Henry  the  sixth  hath  lost 

1  — His   demand,   &c.]      Instead   of    the   remainder   of  this 
speech  the  old  play  has  the  following  lines  : 

" hear  me  speak, 

"  Before  you  answer  Warwick,  or  his  iwrds, 

"  For  he  it  is  hath  done  us  all  these  wrongs.'"     Malone. 

2  — to  the  wasEST  ;]  So  the  folio.   The  quartos — to  ihmvorld. 

Steevens. 


470  THIRD  PART  OF  act  jij. 

All  that  which  Henry  the  fifth  had  gotten  ? 
Methinks,  these  peers  of  France  should  smile  at 

that. 
But  for  the  rest, — You  tell  a  pedigree 
Of  threescore  and  two  years  ;  a  silly  time 
To  make  prescription  for  a  kingdom's  worth. 

*  OxF.  Why,  Warwick,  canst  thou  speak  against 

thy  liege, 

*  Whom  thou  obeyedst  thirty  and  six  years  ^, 

*  And  not  bewray  thy  treason  with  a  blush  ? 

War.  Can  Oxford,  that  did  ever  fence  the  right. 
Now  buckler  falsehood  with  a  pedigree  .^ 
For  shame,  leave  Henry,  and  call  Edward  king. 

*  OxF.    Call   him  my  king,  by  whose  injurious 

doom 
'  My  elder  brother,  the  lord  Aubrey  Vere, 
Was  done  to  death  ^  and  more  than  so,  my  father, 
Even  in  the  downfall  of  his  mellow'd  years, 
'  When   nature    brought    him     to    the     door    of 

death '  "^ 
No,  Warwick,  no ;  while  life  upholds  this  arm, 
This  arm  upholds  the  house  of  Lancaster. 
War.  And  I  the  house  of  York. 
K.  Lew.  Queen  Margaret,  prince  Edward,  and 

Oxford, 

*  Vouchsafe,  at  our  request,  to  stand  aside, 

*  While  I  use  further  conference  with  Warwick. 

3  — thirty  and  SIX  years,]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos — thirty 
and  eight  years.     Steevens. 

The  number  in  the  old  play  is  right.     The  alteration^  however, 
is  of  little  consequence.     Malone. 

4  When  nature  brought  him  to  the  door  of  death  ?]     Thus  the 
folio.     The  quartos  : 

*'  When  age  did  call  him  to  the  door  of  death." 

Steevens. 
This  passage  unavoidably  brings  before  the  mind  that  admirable 
image  of  old  age  in  Sackville's  Induction  : 

'*  His  withered  fist  still  knocking  at  deathe's  dore,"  &c. 

Far  ME  K. 


sc.m.  KING  HENRY  VI.  471 

*  Q.  Mjr.  Heaven  grant,  that  Warwick's  words 

bewitch  him  not ! 

[Retiring  with  the  Prince  and  Oxford 

*  K.  Letv.  Now,  Warwick,  tell  me,  even  upon 

thy  conscience, 

*  Is  Edward  your  true  king  ?  for  I  were  loath, 

*  To  link  with  him  that  were  not  lawful  chosen  ^. 

War.    Thereon    I    pawn   my  credit   and   mine 

honour. 
AT.  Letf.  But  is  he  gracious  in  the  people's  eye  ? 
War.  The  more,  that  Henry  was  unfortunate  ^. 
K.  Letv.  Then  further, — all  dissembling  set  aside, 

*  Tell  me  for  truth  the  measure  of  his  love 

*  Unto  our  sister  Bona. 

War.  Such  it  seems. 

As  may  beseem  a  monarch  like  himself. 
Myself  have  often  heard  him  say,  and  swear, — 


s  —  that  were  not  lawful  chosen.]  Thus  the  folio.  The 
quarto  as  follows : 

" that  is  not  lawful  heir:'     Steevens. 

Here  we  have  another  instance  of  an  impropriety  into  which 
Shakspeare  has  fallen  by  sometimes  following  and  sometimes  de- 
serting his  original.  After  Lewis  has  asked  in  the  old  play  whe- 
ther Henry  was  lawful  heir  to  the  crown  of  England,  and  has 
been  answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  next  enquires  whether  he  is 
gracious,  that  is,  a  favourite  with  the  people.  Shakspeare  has 
preserved  this  latter  question,  though  he  made  a  variation  in  the 
former-;  not  adverting  that  after  a  man  has  been  chosen  by  the 
voices  of  the  people  to  be  their  king,  it  is  quite  superfluous  to  ask 
whether  he  is  popular  or  no, — Edward  was  in  fact  chosen  king, 
both  by  the  parliament  and  by  a  large  body  of  the  people  assem- 
bled in  St.  John's  Fields.  See  Fabian,  wlio  wrote  about  fifty 
years  after  the  time,  p.  472^  and  Stowe,  p.  688,  edit.  1605. 

Malome. 

I  do  not  perceive  the  impropriety  of  the  King's  question,  or  the 
cogency  of  the  remark  founded  on  it.  Is  it  impossible  that  a  king, 
elected  by  his  people,  should  soon  afterwards  become  unpopular  ? 

Steevens. 

^  —  that  Henry  was  unfortunate.]  He  means,  that  Heniy  was 
unsuccessful  in  war,  having  lost  his  dominions  in  France,  &c. 

Malone. 


472  THIRD  PART  OF  jcT  jii. 

That  this  his  love  was  an  eternal  plant  ^ ; 
Whereof  the  root  was  fix'd  in  virtue's  ground, 
The  leaves  and  fruit  maintain'd  with  beauty's  sun; 
Exempt  from  envy,  but  not  from  disdain  ^, 
Unless  the  lady  Bona  quit  his  pain. 

K.  Lew.  Now,  sister,  let  us  hear  your  firm  re- 
solve. 
Bona.    Your    grant,    or    your   denial,   shall  be 
mine  : — 
Yet  I  confess,  [To  JVar.~\  that  often  ere  this  day. 
When  I  have  heard  your  king's  desert  recounted. 
Mine  ear  hath  tempted  judgment  to  desire. 

*  K.   Letv.  Then,  Warwick,   thus, — Our  sister 
shall  be  Edward's ; 

*  And  now  forthwith  shall  articles  be  drawn 

*  Touching  the  jointure  that  your  king  must  make, 

*  Which  with  her  dowry  shall  be  counterpois'd  : — 
Draw  near,  queen  Margaret ;   and  be  a  wdtness, 

7  That  this  his  love  was  an  eternal  plant ;]  The  old  quarto 
reads  rightly  eternal ;  alluding  to  the  plants  of  Paradise. 

Warburton. 

In  the  language  of  Shakspeare's  time,  by  an  eternal  plant  was 
meant  what  we  now  call  &.  perennial  one.     Steevens. 

The  folio  reads — "  an  external  plant ;  "  but  as  that  word  seems 
to  afford  no  meaning,  and  as  Shakspeare  has  adopted  every  other 
part  of  this  speech  as  he  found  it  in  the  old  i)lay,  without  altera- 
tion, I  suppose  external  was  a  mistake  of  the  transcriber  or 
printer,  and  have  therefore  followed  the  reading  of  the  quarto. 

Malone. 

^  Exempt  from  envy,  but  not  from  disdain.]  Envjj  is  always 
supposed  to  have  some  fascinating  or  blasting  power  ;  and  to  be 
out  of  the  reach  of  envy  is  therefore  a  privilege  belonging  only  to 
great  excellence.  1  know  not  well  why  envi/  is  mentioned  here, 
or  whose  envij  can  be  meant  ;  but  the  meaning  is,  that  his  love  is 
superior  to  enx\y,  and  can  feel  no  blast  from  the  lady's  disdain. 
Or  that,  if  Bona  refuse  to  quit  or  requite  his  pain,  his  love  may 
turn  to  disdain,  though  the  consciousness  of  his  own  merit  will 
exempt  him  from  the  pangs  oi  envy.     Johnson. 

I  believe  envy  is  in  this  place,  as  in  many  others,  put  for  malice 
or  hatred.  His  situation  places  him  above  these,  though  it  cannot 
secure  him  from  female  disdain.     Steevens. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  473 

That  Bona  shall  be  wife  to  the  English  king. 

Priixce.  To  Edward,  but  not  to  the  English  king. 

*  Q.  M^/?.  Deceitful    Warwick !  it  was  thy  de- 

vice 

*  By  this  alliance  to  make  void  my  suit ; 

*  Before  thy  coming,  Lewis  was  Henry's  friend. 

*  K.  Letf.  And  still  is  friend  to  him  and  Mar- 

garet : 

*  But  if  your  title  to  the  crown  be  weak, — 

*  As  may  appear  by  Edward's  good  success, — 

*  Then  'tis  but  reason,  that  I  be  releas'd 

*  From  giving  aid,  which  late  I  promised. 

*  Yet  shall  you  have  all  kindness  at  my  hand, 

*  That  your  estate  requires,  and  mine  can  yield. 
War.  Henry  now  lives  in  Scotland,  at  his  ease  ; 

Where  having  nothing,  nothing  he  can  lose. 
And  as  for  you  yourself,  our  quondam  queen, — 
You  have  a  father  able  ^  to  maintain  you ; 
And  better  'twere  you  troubled  him  than  France. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Peace,  impudent  and  shameless  War- 

wick, peace  ^ ; 

*  Proud  setter-up  and  puller-down  of  kings  ^ ; 

*  I  will  not  hence,  till  with  my  talk  and  tears, 

*  Both  full  of  truth,  I  make  king  Lewis  behold 

*  Thy  sly  conveyance  \  and  thy  lord's  false  love ; 

9  You  have  a  father  able— ]  This  seems  ironical.  The  poverty 
of  Margaret's  father  is  a  very  frequent  topick  of  reproach. 

Johnson. 

'  Peace,  impudent  and  shameless  Warwick,  peace  ;]  The 
word  peace,  at  the  end  of  this  line,  is  wanting  in  the  first  folio, 
but  is  supplied  by  the  second.     Steevens. 

-  Proud  setter-up  and  puller-down  of  kings  !]  The  Queen  here 
applies  to  W^arwick,  the  very  words  that  Edward,  p.  428,  addresses 
to  the  Deity.     M.  Mason.  " 

See  p.  428,  n.  7.  The  repetition  has  been  already  accounted 
for,  in  p.  451,  n.  2,  and  p.  468,  n.  8,     Malone. 

3  Thy  sly  conveyance,]  Conveyance,  is  juggling,  and  thence  is 
taken  for  artifice  andjraud.     Johnson. 


474  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ui. 

*  For  both  of  you  are  birds  of  self-same  feather. 

\A  horn  sounded  xvithin. 
K,  Letv.  Warwick,  this  is  some  post  to  us,  or 
thee. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord  ambassador,  these  letters  are  for 
you; 
Sent  from  your  brother,  marquis  Montague. 
These  from  our  king  unto  your  majesty. — 
And,  madam,  these  for  you;  from  whom  I  know  not. 
[To  Margaret.     They  all  read  their  letters. 
OxF.  I  like  it  well,  that  our  fair  queen  and  mis- 
tress 
Smiles  at  her  news,  while  Warwick  frowns  at  his. 
Prince.  Nay,  mark,  how  Lewis  stamps  as  he  were 
nettled  : 

*  I  hope  all's  for  the  best. 

K.  Letv.    Warwick,  what  are  thy  news  .^  and 
yours,  fair  queen  .^ 

*  Q.  Mar.  Mine,  such  as  fill  my  heart  with  un- 

hop'djoys. 
War.  Mine,  full  of  sorrow  and  heart's  discontent. 
K.  Letf.  What !  has  your  king  married  the  lady 

Grey  ? 

*  And  now,  to  sooth  your  forgery  and  his*, 

*  Sends  me  a  paper  to  persuade  me  patience  ? 

*  Is  this  the  alliance  that  he  seeks  with  France  ? 

*  Dare  he  presume  to  scorn  us  in  this  manner  .^ 

*  Q.  Mar.  I  told  your  majesty  as  much  before  : 
This  proveth  Edward's  love,  and  Warwick's  honesty. 

So,  in  King  Richard  II. : 

" conveijers  are  you  all, 

"  That  rise  thus  nimbly  by  a  true  king's  fall."  Steevens. 
^  —  to  SOOTH  your  forgery  and  his,]     To  soften   it,  to  make 
it  more  endurable  :  or  perhaps,  to  sooth  us,  and  to  prevent  our 
being  exasperated  by  your  forgery  and  his.     Malone. 


sc.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  475 

U'AR.  King  Lewis,  I  here  protest, — in  sight  of 
heaven, 
And  by  the  hope  I  have  of  heavenly  bliss, — 
That  I  am  clear  from  this  misdeed  of  Edward's ; 
No  more  my  king,  for  he  dishonours  me ; 
But  most  himself,  if  he  could  see  his  shame. — 
Did  I  forget,  that  by  the  house  of  York 
My  father  came  untimely  to  his  death  ^  ? 
Did  I  let  pass  the  abuse  done  to  my  niece  ^  ? 
Did  I  impale  him  with  the  regal  crown  ? 
Did  I  put  Henry  from  his  native  right '' ; 

*  And  am  I  guerdon'd  ^  at  the  last  with  shame  ? 

*  Shame  on  himself!  for  my  desert  is  honour. 

*  And,  to  repair  my  honour  lost  for  him, 

*  I  here  renounce  him,  and  return  to  Henry : 

^  Did  I  forget,  that  by  the  house  of  York 
My  father  came  untimely  to  his  death  ?]  Warwick's  father 
came  untimely  to  his  death,  being  taken  at  the  battle  of  Wake- 
field, and  beheaded  at  Pomfret,  But  the  author  of  the  old  play 
imagined  he  fell  at  the  action  at  Ferry-bridge,  and  has  in  a  former 
scene,  to  which  this  line  refers,  (see  p.  426,  n.  3,)  described  his 
death  as  happening  at  that  place.  Sliakspeare  very  properly  re- 
jected that  description  of  the  death  of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  of 
whose  death  no  mention  is  made  in  this  play,  as  it  now  stands  ; 
yet  he  has  inadvertently  retained  this  line  which  alludes  to  a  pre- 
ceding description  that  he  had  struck  out ;  and  this  is  another 
proof  of  his  falling  into  inconsistencies,  by  sometimes  following, 
and  sometimes  deserting,  his  original.     Malone. 

^  Did  I  let  pass  the  abuse  done  to  my  niece?]  Thus  Holin- 
shed,  p.  668  :  "  King  Edward  did  attempt  a  thing  once  in  the 
earles  house,  which  was  much  against  the  earles  honestie  (whe- 
ther he  would  have  defloured  his  daughter  or  his  niece,  the  cer- 
taintie  was  not  for  both  their  honours  revealed,)  for  surely  such  a 
thing  was  attempted  by  king  Edward."     Steevens. 

'  Did  I  put  Henry  from  his  native  right ;  &c.]  Thus  the  folio. 
The  quartos  read : 

"  And  thrust  king  Henry  from  his  native  home  ? 
"  And  (most  ungrateful)  doth  he  use  me  thus?  " 

Steevens. 
^  —  guerdon'd — ]  i.  e.  rewarded.  So,  in  Part  II.  of  this  play : 
"  See  you  well  guerdoned  for  these  good  deserts." 

Steevens. 


476  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iir. 

*  My  noble  queen,  let  former  grudges  pass, 
And  henceforth  I  am  thy  true  servitor ; 

I  will  revenge  his  wrong  to  lady  Bona, 
And  replant  Henry  in  his  former  state. 

'  Q.  Mar.  Warwick,  these  words  have  turn'd  my 
hate  to  love ; 

*  And  I  forgive  and  quite  forget  old  faults, 

'  And  joy  that  thou  becom'st  king  Henry's  friend. 

War.  So  much  his  friend,  ay,  his  unfeigned  friend. 
That,  if  king  Lewis  vouchsafe  to  furnish  us 
With  some  few  bands  of  chosen  soldiers, 
I'll  undertake  to  land  them  on  our  coast. 
And  force  the  tyrant  from  his  seat  by  war.^ 
'Tis  not  his  new-made  bride  shall  succour  him  : 

*  And  as  for  Clarence, — as  my  letters  tell  me, 

*  He's  very  likely  now  to  fall  from  him ; 

*  For  matching  more  for  wanton  lust  than  honour, 

*  Or  than  for  strength  and  safety  of  our  country. 

*  Bona.  Dear  brother,  how  shall  Bona  be  re- 

veng'd, 

*  But  by  thy  help  to  this  distressed  queen  ? 

*  Q.  Mar.    Renowned   prince,    how  shall   poor 

Henry  live, 

*  Unless  thou  rescue  him  from  foul  despair  ? 

*  Bona.  My  quarrel,  and  this  English's  queen's, 

are  one. 

*  War.  And   mine,  fair  lady  Bona,  joins  with 

yours. 

*  K.  Leu.  And  mine,  with  hers,  and  thine,  and 

Margaret's. 
Therefore,  at  last  I  firmly  am  resolv'd. 
You  shall  have  aid. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Let  me  give  humble  thanks  for  all  at 

once. 
K.  Lew.  Then  England's  messenger,  return  in 
post; 
And  tell  false  Edward,  thy  supposed  king, — 


^c.  III.  KING  HENRY  VI.  477 

That  Lewis  of  France  is  sending  over  maskers. 
To  revel  it  with  him  and  his  new  bride  : 

*  Thou  seest  what's  past,  go  fear  thy  king  ^  withal. 
Bona.  Tell  him,  In  hope  he'll  prove  a  widower 

shortly, 
I'll  wear  the  willow  garland  for  his  sake. 

Q.  M.^R.  Tell  him.  My  mourning  weeds  are  laid 
aside, 
And  I  am  ready  to  put  armour  on  \ 

JVar.  Tell  him  from  me.  That  he  hath  done  me 
wrong ; 
And  therefore  I'll  uncrown  him,  ere't  be  long. 
There's  thy  reward^ ;  be  gone.  [Ei-it  Mess. 

K.  Letf.  But,  Warwick,  thou, 

And  Oxford,  with  five  thousand  men, 
Shall  cross  the  seas,  and  bid  false  Edward  battle  ■'^: 
*=  And,  as  occasion  serves,  this  noble  queen 

*  And  prince  shall  follow  with  a  fresh  supply. 

*  Yet,  ere  thou  go,  but  answer  me  one  doubt ; — ■ 

*  What  pledge  have  we  of  thy  firm  loyalty  .^ 

War.  This  shall  assure  my  constant  loyalty  : — 
That  if  our  queen  and  this  young  prince  agree, 
I'll  join  mine  eldest  daughter,  and  my  joy, 

9  — go  FEAR  thy  king — ]  That  iSj^V/^A^  thy  king.    Johnson. 
So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. : 

"  The  peopleyer/r  me,"  &c.     Steevens. 

1  —  to  put  armour  on.]  It  was  once  no  unusual  thing  for 
queens  themselves  to  appear  in  armour  at  the  head  of  their 
forces.  The  suit  which  Elizabeth  wore,  when  she  rode  through 
the  lines  at  Tilbury  to  encourage  the  troops,  on  the  approach  of 
the  armada,  may  be  still  seen  in  the  Tower.     Steevens. 

2  —  thy  reward  ;]  Here  we  are  to  su))pose  that,  according  to 
ancient  custom,  Warwick  makes  a  present  to  the  Herald  or  Mes- 
senger, whom  the  original  copies  call — a  Post.  See  vol.  xvii. 
p.  372,  n,  8.     Steevens. 

3  —  and  BID  false  Edward  battle:]  This  phrase  is  common 
to  many  of  our  ancient  writers.  So,  in  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur, 
a  dramatick  performance,  1587  : 

"  ■  my  flesh  abhors 

"  To  hid  ihe  battle  to  my  proper  blood."     Steevens. 


478  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iii. 

To  him  forthwith^  in  holy  wedlock  bands. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Yes,  I  agree  ^,  and  thank  you  for  your 
motion : — 


4  —  I'll  join  mine  eldest  daughter,  and  my  joy, 

To  him  forthwith — ]  Surely  this  is  a  mistake  of  the  copyists. 
Hall,  in  the  ninth  year  of  King  Edward  IV.  says  :  "  Edward 
prince  of  Wales  wedded  Anne  second  daughter  to  the  earl  of 
Warwick."  And  the  Duke  of  Clarence  was  in  love  with  the  elder, 
the  Lady  Isabel ;  and  in  reality  was  married  to  her  five  years  be- 
fore Prince  Edward  took  the  Lady  Anne  to  wife.  And,  in  King 
Richard  the  Third,  Gloster,  who  married  this  Lady  Anne  when  a 
widow,  says: 

"  For  then  I'll  marry  Warwick's  youngest  daughter. 
"  What  though  I  ki^l'd  her  husband  and  her  father?  " 
i.  e.  Prince  Edward,  and  King  Henry  VI.  her  father-in-law.      See 
likewise  Holinshed,  in  his  Chronicle,  p.  671  and  674.  Theobald. 

This  is  a  departure  from  the  truth  of  history,  for  Edward  Prince 
of  Wales  (as  Mr.  Theobald  has  observed,)  was  married  to  Anne, 
second  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

But  notwithstanding  this,  his  reading  {^youngest  daughter]  has, 
I  think,  been  improperly  adopted  by  the  subsequent  editors ;  for 
though  in  fact  the  Duke  of  Clarence  married  Isabella,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Warwick,  in  1468,  and  Edward  Prince  of  Wales  mar- 
ried Anne,  his  second  daughter,  in  1470  :  neither  of  his  daughters 
was  married  at  the  time  when  Warwick  was  in  France  negociating 
a  marriage  between  Lady  Bona  and  his  King:  so  that  there  is 
no  inconsistency  in  the  present  proposal.  Supposing,  however, 
that  the  original  author  of  this  play  made  a  mistake,  and  imagined 
that  the  youngest  daughter  of  \Varvvick  was  married  to  Clarence, 
I  apprehend  he,  and  not  his  editor,  ought  to  answer  for  it. 

This  is  one  of  the  numerous  circumstances  which  prove  that 
Shakspeare  was  not  the  original  author  of  this  play  ;  for  though 
here,  as  in  a  former  passage,  (p.  4.54,  n.  4,)  he  has  followed  the 
old  drama,  when  he  afterwards  wrote  his  King  Richard  III.  and 
found  it  necessary  to  consult  the  ancient  historians,  he  represented 
Lady  Anne,  as  she  in  fact  was,  the  widow  of  Edward,  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  \Var.vick. 

Malone. 

Is  it  improbable  then  that  Shakspeare  should  have  become 
more  accurate  as  he  grew  older?  Might  he  not,  previous  to  tlie 
composition  of  a  later  play,  have  furnished  himself  with  that  know- 
ledge of  history  which  was  wanting  in  his  dramatick  performance 
of  an  earlier  date  ?     Steevens. 

5  Yes,  I  agree,  he.']  Instead  of  this  speech,  the  quarto  has 
onlv  the  following: 

6 


sc.  JIT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  479 

'  Son  Edward,  she  is  fair  and  virtuous, 

*  Therefore  delay  not,  give  thy  hand  to  Warwick  ; 
'  And,  with  thy  hand,  thy  faith  irrevocable, 

*  That  only  Warwick's  daughter  shall  be  thine. 

*  Prince.  Yes,  I  accept  her,  for  she  well  deserves 

it; 

*  And  here,  to  pledge  my  vow,  I  give  my  hand. 

[He  gives  his  hand  to  IF^nmcK. 

*  K.  Lejv.  Why  stay  we  now  .^     These  soldiers 

shall  be  levied, 

*  And  thou,  lord  Bourbon  ^  our  high  admiral, 

*  Shall  waft  them  over  with  our  royal  fleet. — 

*  I  long,  till  Edward  fall  by  war's  mischance, 

*  For  mocking  marriage  with  a  dame  of  France. 

\Exeunt  ail  hut  Warwick. 
JVar.  I  came  from  Edward  as  embassador. 
But  I  return  his  sworn  and  mortal  foe : 
Matter  of  marriage  was  the  charge  he  gave  me, 
But  dreadful  war  shall  answer  his  demand. 
Had  he  none  else  to  make  a  stale  \  but  me  .^ 
Then  none  but  I  shall  turn  his  jest  to  sorrow. 
I  was  the  chief  that  rais'd  him  to  the  crown. 
And  I'll  be  chief  to  bring  him  down  again : 
Not  that  I  pity  Henry's  misery, 
But  seek  revenge  on  Edward's  mockery.        \_Exit. 

"■  With  all  my  heart ;  I  like  this  match  full  well. 
*'  Love  her,  son  Edward  ;  she  is  fair  and  young ; 
"  And  give  thy  hand  to  Warwick,  for  his  love."     Steevens. 
^  And  thou,  lord  Bourbon,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  and  the  three 
following  lines,  we  have  these  in  the  old  play  : 

"  And,  yoii,  lord  Bourbon,  our  high  admiral, 

"  Shall  waft  them  safely  to  the  English  coasts  ; 

"  And  chase  proud  Edimrdfrom  his  slumbering  trance, 

*'  For  mocking  marriage  with  the  name  of  France." 

Malone. 
">  —  to  make  a  stale,]     i.  e.  stalking-horse,  pretence.     So,  in 
The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

"  ..         poor  I  am  but  his  stale."' 
See  Act  II.  Sc.  I.     Steevens. 


480  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iv. 

ACT  IV.     SCENE  I. 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Gloster,  Clarence,  Somerset,  Montague, 

and  Others. 

*  Glo.  Now  tell  me,  brother   Clarence  ^    what 

think  you 

*  Of  this  new  marriage  with  the  lady  Grey  ? 

*  Hath  not  our  brother  made  a  worthy  choice  ? 

*  Clar.  Alas,  you  know,  'tis  far  from  hence  to 

France ; 

*  How  could  he  stay  till  Warwick  made  return  ? 

*  SoM.  My  lords,  forbear  this  talk  ;  here  comes 

the  king. 

Flourish.  Enter  King  EnrrARD,  attended;  Lady 
Grey,  as  Queen ;  Pembroke,  Stafford,  Hast^ 
iNGs,  and  Others  ^. 

*  Glo.  And  his  well-chosen  bride. 

^  Now  tell  nie,  brother  Clarence,]  In  the  old  play  the  King 
enters  here  along  with  his  brothers,  not  after  them,  and  opens 
the  scene  thus  : 

"  Edw.  Brothers  of  Clarence  and  of  Glocester, 
"  What  think  you  of  our  marriage  with  the  lady  Grey? 

"  Glo.  My  lord,  we  think  as  Warwick  and  Lewis, 
"  That  are  so  slack  in  judgment  that  they'll  take 
"  No  offence  at  this  sudden  marriage. 

"  Edw.  Suppose  they  do,  they  are  but  Lewis  and  Warwick  ;^ 
"  And  I  am  your  king  and  Warwick's ;  and  will  be 
"  Obey'd. 

"  Glo.  And  shall,  because  you  are  our  king  ; 
*'  But  yet  such  sudden  marriages  seldom  proveth  well. 
"  Ediv.  Yea,  brother  Richard,  are  you  against  us  too  ?  " 

Malone. 
y  The  stage  direction  in  the  folio,  \_Four  stand  on  ond  side,  and 
Jour  on  the  other.']  is  sufficient  proof  that  the  play,   as  exhibited 
there,  was  printed  from  a  stage  copy.     I  suppose  these  eight  im- 
portant personages  were  attendants.     Steevens. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  481 

*  Clar.  I  mind  to  tell  him  plainly  what  I  think. 

*  K.  Eorr.  Now,  brother  of  Clarence,  how  like 

you  our  choice, 

*  That  you  stand  pensive,  as  half  malcontent  ? 

*  Clar.  As  well  as  Lewis  of  France,  or  the  earl 

of  Warwick; 

*  Which  are  so  weak  of  courage,  and  in  judgment, 
'  That  they'll  take  no  offence  at  our  abuse. 

*  K.  Edtv.  Suppose,  they  take  offence  without  a 

cause, 

*  They  are  but  Lewis  and  Warwick ;  I  am  Edward, 

*  Your  king  and  Warwick's,  and  must  have  my  will. 

*  Glo,  And  you  shall  have  your  will,  because  our 

king: 

*  Yet  hasty  marriage  seldom  proveth  well. 

K.  Edw.  Yea,  brother  Richard,  are  you  offended 
too '  ? 

*  Glo.  Not  I  : 

*  No ;  God  forbid,  that  I  should  wish  them  sever'd 

*  Whom  God  hath  join'd  together  :  ay,   and  'twere 

pity, 

To  sunder  them  that  yoke  so  well  together. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Setting  your  scorns,  and  your  misHke, 

aside, 

*  Tell  me  some  reason,  why  the  lady  Grey 

*  Should    not   become    my    wife,    and  England's 

queen  : — 

*  And  you  too,  Somerset  -,  and  Montague, 

*  Speak  freely  what  you  think. 

*  Clar.  Then   this   is   my   opinion^ — that  king 

Lewis 

'  — are  you  offended  too  ?]     So  the  folio.     The  quartos  : 

" are  you  against  us  too  ?  "     Steevens. 

^  And  you  too,  Somerset,   &c.]     In  the  old  play  Somerset 
dees  not  appear  in  this  scene.     Malone. 

3  Clar.  Then  this  is  my  opinion, — &c.]     Instead  of  this  and 
the  following  speech,  the  quartos  read  thus  : 

"  Clnr.  My  lord,  then  this  is  my  opinion ; 
VOL.  XVIII.  2l 


482  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ly, 

*  Becomes  your  enemy,  for  mocking  him 

*  About  the  marriage  of  the  lady  Bona. 

'  Glo.  And  Warwick,  doing  what  you  gave  in 
charge, 
'  Is  now  dishonoured  by  this  new  marriage. 

*  K.  Edjf.  What,  if  both  Lewis  and  Warwick  be 

appeas'd, 

*  By  such  invention  as  I  can  devise  ? 

Mont.  Yet  to  have  join'd  with  France  in  such 
ahiance. 
Would  more  have  strengthen'd  this  our  common- 
wealth 

*  'Gainst  foreign  stornis,  than  any  home-bred  mar- 

riage. 

*  Hast.  Why,  knows  not  Montague,  that  of  itself 
England  is  safe,  if  true  within  itself*  ? 

*  Mgnt.  Yes;  but  the  safer,  when   'tis  back'd 

with  France  \ 

"  That  Warwick,  being  dishonour'd  in  his  embassage, 
*'  Doth  seek  revenge,  to  quit  his  injuries. 

"  Glo.  And  Lewis,  in  regard  of  his  sister's  wrongs, 
*'  Doth  join  with  Warwick  to  supplant  your  state." 

Steevens. 

4  Why,  knows  not  Montague,  that  of  itself 

England  is  safe,  if  true  within  itself?]     In  the  old  play  these 
lines  stand  thus  : 

"  Let  England  be  true  within  itself, 

"  We  need  not  PVance  nor  any  alliance  with  them." 

It  is  observable  that  the  first  of  these  lines  occurs  in  the  old 
play  of  King  John,  1591,  from  which  our  author  borrowed  it,  and 
inserted  it  with  a  slight  change  in  his  own  play  with  the  same 
title.    Malone. 

The  original  of  this  sentiment  is  probably  to  be  found  in  Dr. 
Andrew  Borde's  Fyrst  Boke  of  the  Introduction  of  Knowledge, 
bl.  1.  printed  for  Copland,  Sign.  A  4. 

See  vol.  XV.  p.  375,  n.  3.  Neither  the  lapse  of  two  centuries,  nor 
any  circumstance  which  has  occurred  during  that  eventful  period, 
has  in  any  degree  shook  the  credit  of  this  observation,  or  impaired 
the  confidence  of  the  publick  in  the  truth  of  it.  "  England  is  and 
will  be  still  safe,  if  true  within  itself."     Reed. 

5  Yes  ;  but  the  safer,  &c.]  Thus  ,the  second  folio.  Yes,  in 
the  first,  is  omitted.     Steevens. 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  483 

*  Hjst.  'Tis  better  using  France,  than  trusting 

France : 

*  Let  us  be  back'd  with  God,  and  with  the  seas*^, 

*  Which  he  hath  given  for  fence  impregnable, 

*  And  with  their  helps  only  defend  ourselves ; 

*  In  them  and  in  ourselves,  our  safety  lies. 
Clar.  For  this  one  speech,  lord  Hastings  well 

deserves 

*  To  have  the  heir  of  the  lord  Hungerford. 

'  K.  Enrr.  Ay,  what  of  that  ?  it  was  my  will,  and 
grant ; 

*  And,  for  this  once,  my  will  shall  stand  for  law. 

*  Glo.  And  yet,  methinks  \  your  grace  hath  not 

done  well, 
'  To  give  the  heir  and  daughter  of  lord  Scales 

*  Unto  the  brother  of  your  loving  bride  ; 

*  She  better  would  have  fitted  me,  or  Clarence : 
'  But  in  your  bride  you  bury  brotherhood. 

*  Clar.  Or  else  vou  would  not  have   bestow'd 

the  heir  ^ 

*  Of  the  lord  Bonville  on  your  new  wife's  son, 

*  And  leave  your  brothers  to  go  speed  elsewhere. 

K.  Enrr.  Alas,  poor  Clarence  !  is  it  for  a  wife, 
'  That  thou  art  malcontent  ?  I  will  provide  thee. 

^  —  with  the  seas,]     This   has  been  the  advice  of  every  man 
who  in  any  age  understood  and  favoured  the  interest  of  England. 

Johnson. 
7  And  yet,   methinks,  &c.]     The   quartos  vary  from   the  folio, 
as  follows  : 

"  Cla.  Ay,  and  for  such  a  tiling  too,  the  lord  Scales 
"  Did  well  deserve  at  your  hands,  to  have  the 
"  Daughter  of  the  lord  Bonfield,  and  left  vour 
"  Brothers  to  go  seek  elsewhere  ;  but  in  your  madness 
"  You  buiy  brotherhood."     Steevens. 
^  — you  would  not   have  bestow'd  the  heir — ]     It  must  be 
remembered,    that  till  the    Restoration,    the  heiresses   of  great 
estates  were  in  the  wardship  of  the  King,  who  in  their  minority 
gave  them  up  to  plunder,  and  afterwards  matched  them   to  his 
favourites.     I  know  not  when  liberty  gained  more   than  by  the 
abolition  of  the  court  of  wards.     Johnson. 

2  I  2 


484  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iv, 

'  Clar.  In  choosing  for  yourself,  you  show'd  your 
judgment; 

*  Which  being  shallow,  you  shall  give  me  leave 

*  To  play  the  broker  in  mine  own  behalf ; 

*  And,  to  that  end,  I  shortly  mind  to  leave  you. 

K.  Enw.  Leave   me,  or  tarry,  Edward  will  be 
king, 

*  And  not  be  tied  unto  his  brother's  will. 

'  Q.  Eliz.  My  lords,  before  it  pleas'd  his  majesty 

*  To  raise  my  state  to  title  of  a  queen, 

'  Do  me  but  right,  and  you  must  all  confess 

*  That  I  was  not  ignoble  of  descent  ^, 

*  And  meaner  than  myself  have  had  like  fortune. 

*  But  as  this  title  honours  me  and  mine, 

*  So  your  dislikes,  to  whom  I  would  be  pleasing, 

*  Do  cloud  my  joys  with  danger  and  with  sorrow. 

*  K.  Edtf.  My  love,  forbear  to  fawn  upon  their 

frowns  ^ : 

*  What  danger,  or  what  sorrow  can  befall  thee, 

*  So  long  as  Edward  is  thy  constant  friend, 

*  And  their  true  sovereign,  whom  they  must  obey  ? 

*  Nay,  whom  they  shall  obey,  and  love  thee  too, 

*  Unless  they  seek  for  hatred  at  my  hands: 

*  Which  if  they  do,  yet  will  I  keep  thee  safe, 

'  And  they  shall  feel  the  vengeance  of  my  wrath. 

*  Glo.  I  hear,  yet  say  not  much,  but  think  the 

more.  [Aside. 

9  —  I  vvas  not  ignoble  of  descent,]  Her  father  was  Sir  Richard 
Widville,  Knight,  afterwards  Earl  of  Rivers  ;  her  mother,  Jaque- 
line,  Duchess  Dowager  of  Bedford,  who  was  daughter  to  Peter  of 
Luxemburgh,  Earl  of  St.  Paul,  and  widow  of  John  Duke  of 
Bedford,  brother  to  King  Henry  V.     Malone. 

»  My  love,  forbear,  &c.]  Instead  of  this  and  the  following 
speech,  the  old  play  has  only  these  lines  : 

"  Edvo.  Forbear,  my  love,  to  fawne  upon  their  frowns, 
"■'  For  thee  they  must  obey,  nay,  shall  obey, 
"  And  if  they  look  for  favour  at  my  hands. 

"  Mont.  My  lord,  here   is  the  messenger  return'd  from 
Fraunce."     Malone. 


sc,  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  485 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  K.  Edtv.  Now,  messenger,  what  letters,  or  what 

news. 
From  France  ? 

*  Mess.  My  sovereign  liege,  no  letters  ;  and  few 

words, 

*  But  such  as  I,  without  your  special  pardon. 
Dare  not  relate. 

*  K.  Edjf.  Go  to,  we  pardon  thee :  therefore,  in 

brief, 

*  Tell  me  their  words  as  near  as  thou  canst  guess 

them. 

*  What  answer  makes  king  Lewis  unto  our  letters  ? 

Mess.  At  my  depart,  these  were  his  very  words ; 
Go  tell  false  Edzvard,  thy  supposed  king, — 
That  Lewis  of  France  is  sending  over  maskers. 
To  revel  it  with  him  and  his  new  bride. 

K.  Edtf.  Is  Lewis  so  brave  ?  belike,  he  thinks 
me  Henry. 

*  But  what  said  lady  Bona  to  my  marriage  ^  ? 

Mess.  These  were  her  words,  utter'd  with  mild 
disdain ; 
Tell  him,  in  hope  he'll  prove  a  widozver  shortly. 
Til  wear  the  willow  garland  for  his  sake. 

K.  Edtf.  I  blame  not  her,  she  could  say  little  less  ; 

*  She  had  the  wrong.  But  what  said  Henry's  queen  ? 

*  For  I  have  heard,  that  she  was  there  in  place  ^. 

Mess.  Tell  him,  quoth  she,  my  mourning  weeds 
are  done  ^, 
And  I  am  ready  to  put  armour  on. 

*  —  to  my  marriage  ?]     The  quartos  read — 

" to  these  wrongs."     Steevens. 

3  — she  was  there   in  place.]     This   expression,  signifying, 
she  was  there  present,  occurs  frequently  in  old  English  writers. 

Malone. 
Enplace,  a  Gallicism.     Steevens. 

4  —are  done,]     i.  e.  are  consumed,  thrown  off.    The  word 


486  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ii\ 

*  K.  Edw.  Belike,  she  minds  to  play  the  Amazon. 
But  what  said  Warwick  to  these  injuries  ? 

'  Mess.  He,  more  incens  d  against  your  majesty 
'  Than  all  the  rest,  discharg'd  me  with  these  words ; 
Tell  him  from  me,  that  he  hath  done  me  'wro7ig^ 
And  therefore  III  uncroxvn  him,  ere!t  he  long. 

K.  Edw.  Ha !  durst  the  traitor  breathe  out  so 
proud  words  ? 
'  Well,  I  will  arm  me,  being  thus  forewarn'd : 
'  They  shall  have  wars,  and  pay  for  their  presump- 
tion. 

*  But  say,  is  Warwick  friends  with  Margaret  ? 

Mess.  Ay,  gracious  sovereign;  they  are  so  link'd 
in  friendship, 

*  That  young  prince   Edward   marries  Warwick's 

daughter. 
Clar.  Belike,  the  elder ;  Clarence  will  have  the 
younger  ^ 

*  Now,  brother  king,  farewell,  and  sit  you  fast, 

*  For  I  will  hence  to  Warwick's  other  daughter  ; 

*  That,  though  I  want  a  kingdom,  yet  in  marriage 

*  I  may  not  prove  inferior  to  yourself. — 
You,  that  love  me  and  Warwick,  follow  me  ^. 

\_Exit  Clabence,  and  Somerset  follows . 

is  often  used  in  this  sense  by  the  writers  of  our  author's  age. 
Soj  in  his  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  And  if  possess'd,  as  soon  decay'd  and  done, 

"  As  is  the  morning's  silver-melting  dew."     Malone. 

5  Belike,  the  elder  ;  Clarence  will  have  the  younger.]  I 
have  ventured  to  make  elder  and  younger  change  places  in  this 
line  against  the  authority  of  all  the  printed  copies.  The  reason 
of  it  will  be  obvious.     Theobald. 

Clarence  having  in  fact  married  Isabella,  i\\t  elder  daughter  of 
Warwick,  Mr.  Theobald  made  elder  and  younger  change  places 
in  this  line;  in  which  he  has  been  followed,  I  think,  improperly, 
by  the  subsequent  editors  :  The  author  of  the  old  play,  where 
this  line  is  found,  might  from  ignorance  or  intentionally  have 
deviated  from  history,  in  his  account  of  the  person  whom  Clarence 
married.     See  a  former  note,  p.  4-78,  n.  4.     Malone. 

^  You,   that  love   me  and   Warvi^ck,  follow  me.]     That  Cla- 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  487 

*  Glo,  Not  F: 

*  My  thoughts  aim  at  a  further  matter ;  I 

*  Stay  not  for  love  of  Edward,  but  the  crown. 

\\AsicIe. 
K.  Edw.  Clarence  and  Somerset  both  gone  to 
Warwick ! 

*  Yet  am  I  arm'd  against  the  worst  can  happen ; 

*  And  haste  is  needful  in  this  desperate  case. — 

*  Pembroke,  and  Stafford  ^,  you  in  our  behalf 

rence  should  make  this  speech  in  the  King's  hearing  is  very  im- 
probable, yet  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  palliated.  The  King 
never  goes  out,  nor  can  Clarence  be  talking  to  a  company  apart, 
for  he  answers  immediately  to  that  which  the  Post  says  to  the 
King.     Johnson. 

When  the  Earl  of  Essex  attempted  to  raise  a  rebellion  in  the 
city,  with  a  design,  as  was  supposed,  to  storm  the  Queen's 
palace,  he  ran  about  the  streets  with  his  sword  drawn,  crying 
out,   "  They  that  love  me,  follow  me."     Steevens. 

Clarence  certainly  speaks  in  the  hearing  of  the  King,  who,  im- 
mediately after  his  brother  has  retired,  exclaims,  that  he  is  gone 
to  join  with  Warwick. 

This  line  is  in  the  old  quarto  play.     One  nearly  resembling  it 
is  likewise  found  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar,  1594  : 
"  Myself  will  lead  the  way, 

"  And  make  a  passage  with  my  conquering  sword, 
"  Knee-deep  in  blood  of  these  accursed  Moors  ; 
"  And  they  that  love  mij  honour,  follow  me" 
So  also,  in  our  author's  King  Richard  III. : 

"  The  rest  that  love  me,  rise,  and  follow  me."     Malone. 
1  Glo.  Not  I :]     After  Clarence  goes  out,  we  have  in  the  old 
play  the  following  dialogue  ;  part  of  which  Shakspeare  rejected, 
and  transposed  the  rest : 

<'  Edw.  Clarence  and  Somerset  fled  to  Warwick  ! 
"  What  say  you,  brother  Richard,  will  you  stand  to  us  ?  "  &c. 

Maxone. 
See  note  9,  in  the  following  page.     Steevens. 
8  Pembroke,  and  Stafford,  &:c.]     The  quartos  give  the  passage 
thus  : 

"  Pembroke,  go  raise  an  army  presently ; 

"  Pitch  up  my  tent ;  for  in  the  field  this  night 

"  I  mean  to  rest ;  and,  on  the  morrow  morn, 

"  I'll  march  to  meet  proud  Warwick,  ere  he  land 

"  Those  straggling  troops  which  he  hath  got  in  France. 

"  But  ere  I  go,  Montague  and  Hastings,  you 

6 


488  THIRD  PART  OF  act  JV. 

*  Go  levy  men,  and  make  prepare  for  war; 

*  They  are  already,  or  quickly  will  be  landed  : 
'  Myself  in  person  will  straight  follow  you. 

\_Exeunt  Pembroke  and  Stafford. 

*  But,  ere  I  go,  Hastings, — and  Montague, — 

*  Resolve  my  doubt.     You  twain,  of  all  the  rest, 

*  Are  near  to  Warwick,  by  blood,  and  by  alliance : 

*  Tell  me  if  you  love  Warwick  more  than  me  ? 

*  If  it  be  so,  then  both  depart  to  him ; 

'  I  rather  wish  you  foes,  than  hollow  friends ; 

*  But,  if  you  mind  to  hold  your  true  obedience, 

*  Give  me  assurance  with  some  friendly  vow, 

*  That  I  may  never  have  you  in  suspect. 

Mont.  So  God  help  Montague,  as  he  proves  true ! 
Hast.  And   Hastings,    as   he   favours   Edward's 
cause ! 

*  K.  Edw.  Now,  brother  Richard,  will  you  stand 

by  us  ? 
Glo.  Ay,  in  despite  of  all  that  shall  withstand 
you^. 

*  K.  EDfT.  Why  so  ;  then  am  I  sure  of  victory. 

*  Now  therefore  let  us  hence  ;  and  lose  no  hour, 

*  Till  we  meet  Warwick  with  his  foreign  power. 

[Ei'eunt. 

"  Of  all  the  rest  are  nearest  allied  in  blood 
"  To  Warwick  ;  therefore  tell  me  if  you  favour 
"  Him  more  than  me,  or  not ;  speak  truly,  for 
"  I  had  rather  have  you  open  enemies 
"  Than  hollow  friends."     Steevens. 
9  Ay,  in  despite  of  all  that  shall  withstand  you.]     The  quartos 
continue  the  speech  thus  : 

"  Ay,  my  lord,  in  despight  of  all  that  shall  withstand  you  ; 

"  For  why  hath  nature  made  me  halt  downright 

*'  But  that  I  should  be  valiant,  and  stand  to  it? 

"  For  if  I  would,  I  cannot  run  away."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VJ.  489 

SCENE  II. 

A  Plain  in  Warwickshire. 

Enter  Jf^RwicK  and  Oxford  with  French  and  other 

Forces. 

War.  Trust  me,  my  lord,  all  hitherto  goes  well ; 
The  common  people  by  numbers  swarm  to  us. 

Enter  Clarence  and  Somerset. 

But,  see,  where  Somerset  and  Clarence  come; — 
Speak  suddenly,  my  lords,  are  we  all  friends  ? 

Clar.  Fear  not  that,  my  lord. 

JVar.    Then,    gentle    Clarence,    welcome   unto 
Warwick ; 
And  welcome,  Somerset: — I  hold  it  cowardice. 
To  rest  mistrustful  where  a  noble  heart 
Hath  pawn'd  an  open  hand  in  sign  of  love  ; 
Else  might  I  think,  that  Clarence,  Edward's  brother. 
Were  but  a  feigned  friend  to  our  proceedings  : 
But  welcome,  sweet  Clarence  ^ ;  my  daughter  shall 

be  thine. 
And  now  what  rests,  but,  in  night's  coverture. 
Thy  brother  being  carelessly  encamp'd. 
His  soldiers  lurking  in  the  towns  about  ^, 
And  but  attended  by  a  simple  guard. 
We  may  surprise  and  take  him  at  our  pleasure? 

'  But  welcome,  Clarence ;]     Old  copy,   redundantly^ — stveet 
Clarence.     Steevens. 

^  His  soldiers  lurking  in  the  towns  about,]  Old  copies — tovon. 

Steevens. 
Dr.  Thirlby  advised  the  reading  ioxvns  here  ;  the  guard  in  the 
scene  immediately  following  says  : 

" but  why  commands  the  king, 

"  That  his  chief  followers  lodge  in  toxxins  about  him  ?  " 

Theobald. 


490  THIRD  PART  OF  act  if. 

Our  scouts  have  found  the  adventure  very  easy  ^ : 

*  That  as  Ulysses  *,  and  stout  Diomede, 

*  With  sleight  and  manhood  stole  to  Rhesus'  tents, 
^  And  brought   from   thence   the   Thracian    fatal 

steeds^ ; 

*  So  we,  well  cover'd  with  the  night's  black  mantle, 

*  At  unawares  may  beat  down  Edward's  guard, 

*  And  seize  himself ;  I  say  not — slaughter  him, 

*  For  I  intend  but  only  to  surprise  him. — 

*  You,  that  will  follow  me  to  this  attempt, 

*  Applaud  the  name  of  Henry,  with  your  leader. 

[They  all  cry,  Heriry ! 
Why,  then,  let's  on  cur  way  in  silent  sort : 
For    Warwick   and    his   friends,    God   and   Saint 
George  ^ !  [Exeunt. 

3  —  veiy  easy  :]  Here  the  quartos  conclude  this  speech,  adding 
only  the  following  lines  : 

"  Then  cry  king  Henry  with  resolved  minds, 
"  And  break  we  presently  into  his  tent."     Steevens. 
'^  That  as  Ulysses,  Sec]  See  the  tenth  book  of  the  Iliad.    These 
circumstances,   however,  were  accessible,  witho.ut  reference   to 
Homer  in  the  original.     Steevens. 

5  —  THE  Thkacian  fatal  STEEDS  ;]  We  are  told  by  some  of 
the  writers  on  the  Trojan  story,  that  the  capture  of  these  horses 
was  one  of  the  necessary  preliminaries  to  the  fate  of  Troy, 

Steevens. 
^  —  and  Saint  George  !]  After  the  two  concluding  lines  of  this 
scene,  which  in  the  old  play  are  given  not  to  Warwick  but  to  Cla- 
rence, we  there  find  the  following  speeches,  which  Shakspeare  has 
introduced  in  a  subsequent  place  : 

"  War.  This  is  his  tent;  and  see  where  his  guard  doth  stand. 
"  Courage,  my  soldiers  ;  now  or  never. 
"  But  follow  me  now,  and  Edward  shall  be  ours. 
"  AIL  A  Warwick,  a  Warwick  !  "     Malone. 


sc.iJi.  KING  HENRY  VI.  491 

SCENE  III. 
Edward's  Camp,  near  Warwick. 

Enter  certain  IVatchmen,  to  guard  the  King's  Tent. 

*  1  Watch.    Come  on,  my  masters,  each  man 

take  his  stand ; 

*  The  king,  by  this,  is  set  him  down  to  sleep. 

*  2  Watch.  What,  will  he  not  to  bed  .^ 

*  1  Watch.  Why,  no :  for  he  hath  made  a  solemn 

vow 

*  Never  to  lie  and  take  his  natural  rest, 

*  Till  Warwick,  or  himself,  be  quite  suppress'd. 

*  2  Watch.  To-moiTow  then,  belike,  shall  be  the 

day, 

*  If  Warwick  be  so  near  as  men  report. 

*  3  Watch.  But  say,  I  pray,  what  nobleman  is 

that, 

*  That  with  the  king  here  resteth  in  his  tent  ? 

*  1  Watch.    'Tis  the  lord  Hastings,  the   king's 

chiefest  friend. 

*  3  Watch.  O,  is  it  so  .^  But  why  commands  the 

king, 

*  That  his  chief   followers  lodge  in  towns  about 

him, 

*  While  he  himself  keepeth  in  the  cold  field  .^ 

*  2  Watch.  'Tis  the  more  honour,  because  more 

dangerous. 

*  3  Watch.    Ay ;    but   give   me   worship   and 

quietness, 

*  I  hke  it  better  than  a  dangerous  honour^. 

*  If  Warwick  knew  in  what  estate  he  stands, 

*  'Tis  to  be  doubted,  he  would  waken  him. 


7  I  like  it  better  than  a  dangerous  honour,]  This  honest  \^'atch- 
raan's  opinion  coincides  with  that  of  Falstaff.     See  vol.  xvi.  p.  398, 

Steevens. 


492  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ict  ly. 

*  1  Watch.  Unless  our  halberds  did  shut  up  his 

passage, 

*  2  Watch.  Ay;  wherefore   else  guard  we  his 

royal  tent, 

*  But  to  defend  his  person  from  night-foes  ? 

Enter  PPartfick^  Clarence^  Oxford,  Somerset, 

and  Forces. 

*  War.  This  is  his  tent ;  and  see,  where  stand 

his  guard. 

*  Courage,  my  masters :  honour  now,  or  never  ! 

*  But  follow  me,  and  Edward  shall  be  ours. 

1  Watch.  Who  goes  there  ? 

*  2  Watch.  Stay,  or  thou  diest. 
\JVartfick,  and  the  rest,  cry  all — Warwick  ! 

Warwick!  and  set  upon  the   Guard;  who 
fly,  crying — yirm  !  Artn  !     Wartfick,  and 
the  rest,  following  them. 

The  Drum  beating,  and  Trumpets  sounding.  Re- 
enter Wartfick,  and  the  rest,  bringing  the  King 
out  in  a  Goxvn,  sitting  i?i  a  Chair  :  Oldster  and 
Hastings  fly. 

*  SoM.  What  are  they  that  fly  there  ? 

*  War.  Richard,    and   Hastings  :    let  them   go, 

here's  the  duke. 
K.  Edtf.  The  duke !  why,  Warwick,  when  we 

parted  last^. 
Thou  call'dst  me  king  ! 

War.  Ay,  but  the  case  is  alter'd  : 

*  When  you  disgrac'd  me  in  my  embassade  *, 

*  Then  I  degraded  you  from  being  king, 
And  come  now  to  create  you  duke  of  York^. 

*  So  folio  :  quarto,  embassage. 

*  —  when  we  parted  last,]     The  word  last,  which  is  found  in 
the  old  i)lay,  was  inadvertently  omitted  in  the  folio.     Malone. 

9  x-^nd  come  now  to  create  you  duke  of  York.]    Might  we  not 
read,  with  a  slight  alteration  ? 

*'  And  come  to  nevo-creatc  you  duke  of  York."    Johnson. 


sc.  TIT.  KING  HENRY  VI.  493 

Alas !  how  should  you  govern  any  kingdom. 
That  know  not  how  to  use  ambassadors  ; 
Nor  how  to  be  contented  with  one  wife  ; 
Nor  how  to  use  your  brothers  brotherly ; 

*  Nor  how  to  study  for  the  people's  welfare ; 
Nor  how  to  shrowd  yourself  from  enemies  ? 

*  K,  Edw.  Yea,  brother^  of  Clarence,  art  thou 

here  too  ? 

*  Nay,  then  I  see,  that  Edward  needs  must  down. — 
'  Yet,  Warwick,  in  despite  of  all  mischance, 

*  Of  thee  thyself,  and  all  thy  complices, 

*  Edward  will  always  bear  himself  as  king  : 

*  Though  fortune's  malice  overthrow  my  state, 

*  My  mind  exceeds  the  compass  of  her  wheel. 
JVar.  Then,  for  his  mind,  be  Edward  England's 

king^:  [Takes  off  his  Crown. 

But  Henry  now  shall  wear  the  English  crown, 

*  And  be  true  king  indeed  ;  thou  but  the  shadow. — 

*  My  lord  of  Somerset,  at  my  request, 

'  See  that  forthwith  duke  Edward  be  convey'd 

*  Unto  my  brother,  archbishop  of  York. 

*  When  I  have  fought  with  Pembroke  and  his  fellows, 

*  ril  follow  you,  and  tell  what  answer 

*  Lewis,  and  the  lady  Bona,  send  to  him  : — 
Now,  for  a  while,  farewell,  good  duke  of  York. 

*  K.  Edtt'.  What  fates  impose,  that  men  must 

needs  abide ; 

*  It  boots  not  to  resist  both  wind  and  tide. 

[Exit  King  Edward,  led  out  ;  Somerset  xvitli 
him. 

'  Yea,  brother,    &c.]     In  the  old  play  this  speech  consists  of 
only  these  two  lines  : 

"  Well,  Warwick,  let  fortune  do  her  worst, 
"  Edward  in  mind  will  bear  himself  a  king." 
Henry  has  made  the  same  declaration  in  a  former  scene. 

Malone. 

*  Then,  for  his  mind,  be  Edward  England's  king  :]     That  is,  in 
his  mind  ;  as  far  as  his  own  mind  goes.     M.  Mason. 


494  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  iv. 

*  OxF.  What  now  remains  "*,  my  lords,  for  us  to 
do, 

*  But  march  to  London  with  our  soldiers  ? 

War.  Ay,  that's  the  first  thing  that  we  have  to 
do; 

*  To  free  king  Henry  from  imprisonment. 

And  see  him  seated  in  the  regal  throne.    \Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 
London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Queen  Elizabeth  and  Rivers'^. 

'  RiF.  Madam,  what  makes  you  in  this  sudden 
change  ? 

3  What  now  remains,  &c.]  Instead  of  this  and  the  following 
speech,  the  quartos  have  : 

"  Clar.  What  follows  now?  all  hitherto  goes  well. 
"  But  we  must  dispatch  some  letters  into  France, 
"  To  tell  the  queen  of  our  happy  fortune  ; 
"  And  bid  her  come  with  speed  to  join  with  us. 

"  War.  Ay,  that's  the  first  thing  tliat  we  have  to  do, 
"  And  free  king  Henry  from  imprisonment, 
"  And  see  him  seated  on  the  regal  throne. 
"  Come,  let's  away ;  and,  having  past  these  cares, 
"  I'll  post  to  York,  and  see  how  Edward  fares." 

Steevens. 

4  Enter — Rivers?^  Throughout  this  scene  the  quartos  vary  in 
almost  every  speech  from  the  folio.  The  variations,  however,  are 
hardly  such  as  to  deserve  notice.     Steevens. 

They  are,  however,  so  marked,  as  to  prove  decisively,  I  think, 
that  either  Shakspeare  wrote  two  distinct  pieces  on  this  subject  at 
different  periods,  or  that  the  play  as  exhibited  in  the  folio  was  his, 
and  that  in  quarto  the  production  of  a  preceding  writer.  Let  the 
second  speech  of  Rivers  be  read  vvith  this  view: 

"  What  losse  ?  of  some  picht  battaile  against  \^''arwicke  ? 
"  Tush,  feare  not,  fair  queene,  but  cast  these  cares  aside. 
"  King  Edward's  noble  mind  his  honour  doth  disphij', 
"  And  ^\'arvvick  may  lose,  though  then  he  got  the  day." 
Sec  also  tlie  speech  of  Clarence  quoted  in  the  last  note. 

Malone. 


sc.  jr.  KING  HENRY  VI.  495 

'  Q.  Eliz.  Why,  brother  Rivers,  are  you  yet  to 
learn, 

*  What  late  misfortune  is  befall'n  king  Edward  ? 

RiF.  What,  loss  of  some  pitch'd  battle  against 
Warwick  ? 

*  Q.  Eliz.  No,   but  the   loss   of  his  own  royal 

person. 

*  RiF.  Then  is  my  sovereign  slain  ? 

*  Q.  Eliz.  Ay,  almost  slain,  for  he  is  taken  pri- 

soner ? 

*  Either  betray 'd  by  falsehood  of  his  guard, 

*  Or  by  his  foe  surpris'd  at  unawares  : 

*  And,  as  I  further  have  to  understand, 

*  Is  new  committed  to  the  bishop  of  York, 

'  Fell  Warwick's  brother,  and  by  that  our  foe. 

*  RiF.  These  news,  I   must   confess,   are  full  of 

grief : 

*  Yet,  gracious  madam,  bear  it  as  you  may; 

*  Warwick  may  lose,  that  now  hath  won  the  day. 

*  Q.  Eliz.  Till  then,  fair  hope  must  hinder  life's 

decay. 

*  And  I  the  rather  wean  me  from  despair, 

*  For  love  of  Edward's  offspring  in  my  womb  : 

*  This  is  it  that  makes  me  bridle  passion, 

*  And  bear  with  mildness  my  misfortune's  cross ; 

*  Ay,  ay,  for  this  I  draw  in  many  a  tear, 

*  And  stop  the  rising  of  blood-sucking  sighs, 

*  Lest  with  my  sighs  or  tears  I  blast  or  drown 

*  King  Edward's   fruit,   true  heir  to   the   English 

crown. 

*  RiF.  But,  madam,  where  is  Warwick  then  be- 

come ? 

*  Q.  Eliz.  I  am  informed,  that  he  comes  towards 

London, 

W^ould  not  this  prove  rather  too  much,  as  a  similar  inference 
might  be  drawn  from  the  two  copies  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  in  1597 
and  1599?     Steevens. 


496  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iv. 

*  To  set  the  crown  once  more  on  Henry's  head  : 

*  Guess  thou  the  rest ;  king  Edward's  friends  must 

down. 

*  But  to  prevent  the  tyrant's  violence, 

*  (For  trust  not  him  that  hath  once  broken  faith,) 

*  I'll  hence  forthwith  unto  the  sanctuary, 

*  To  save  at  least  the  heir  of  Edward's  right ; 

*  There  shall  I  rest  secure  from  force,  and  fraud. 

*  Come  therefore,  let  us  fly,  while  we  may  fly; 
'  If  Warwick  take  us,  we  are  sure  to  die. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  V^ 

A  Park  near  Middleham^  Castle  in  Yorkshire. 

Enter  Gloster,  Hjstixgs,  Sir  William  Stanley, 

and  Others. 

*  Glo.  Now,  my  lord  Hastings  ^  and  sir  William 
Stanley, 

5  Scene  V.]  In  new  forming  these  pieces  Shakspeare  transposed 
not  only  many  lines  and  speeches,  but  some  of  the  scenes.  This 
scene  in  the  original  play  precedes  that  which  he  has  made  the 
fourth  scene  of  this  Act.     Malone. 

^  A  Park  near  Middleham  — ]  Shakspeare  follows  his  autho- 
rity Holinshed,  in  the  representation  here  given  of  King  Edward's 
capture  and  imprisonment.  But  honest  Raphael  misled  him,  as 
he  himself  was  misled  by  his  predecessor  Hall.  The  whole  is 
untrue:  Edward  was  never  in  the  hands  of  Warwick.     Ritson. 

7  Now,  my  lord  Hastings,  Sec]  I  shall  insert  the  speech  cor- 
responding to  this  in  the  old  play,  as  the  comparison  will  show  the 
reader  in  what  manner  Shakspeare  proceeded,  where  he  merely 
retouched  and  expanded  what  he  found  in  the  elder  drama,  with- 
out the  addition  of  any  new  matter  : 

"  Glo.  Lord  Hastings  and  Sir  William  Stanley, 
"  Know  that  the  cause  I  sent  for  you  is  this. 
*'  I  look  my  brother  with  a  slender  train 
"  Should  come  a  hunting  in  this  forest  here. 
"  The  bishop  of  York  befriends  him  much, 
"  And  lets  him  use  his  pleasure  in  the  chase. 
"  Now  I  have  privily  sent  him  word 


sc.  y,  KING  HENRY  VI.  497 

*  Leave  off  to  wonder  why  I  drew  you  hither, 

*  Into  this  chiefest  thicket  of  the  park. 

'  Thus  stands  the  case :  You  know,  our  king,  my 

brother, 
'  Is  prisoner  to  the  bishop  here,  at  whose  hands 

*  He  hath  good  usage  and  great  Hberty ; 

'  And  often,  but  attended  with  weak  guard, 

*  Comes  hunting  this  way  to  disport  himself. 

*  I  have  advertis'd  him  by  secret  means, 

*  That  if  about  this  hour,  he  make  his  way, 

*  Under  the  colour  of  his  usual  game, 

*  He  shall  here  find  his  friends,  with  horse  and  men, 

*  To  set  him  free  from  his  captivity. 

Enter  King  Edward,  and  a  Huntsman-. 

'  Hunt.  This  way,  my  lord :  for  this  way  lies  the 

game. 
K.  Edw,  Nay,   this  way,  man;  see,  where   the 
huntsmen  stand. —    • 
'  Now,  brother  of  Gloster,  lord  Hastings,  and  the 
rest, 

*  Stand  you  thus  close,  to  steal  the  bishop's  deer  ? 

*  Glo.  Brother,  the  time  and  case  requireth  haste .'' 

*  Your  horse  stands  ready  at  the  park  corner. 

*  K.  Edw.  But  whither  shall  we  then  ? 

*  H-isT.  To    Lynn,   my   lord ;    and   ship  ^   from 

thence  to  Flanders. 

*  Glo.  Well  guess'd,  believe  me  ;  for  that  was 

my  meaning. 
^  K.  Edw.  Stanley,  I  will  requite  thy  forwardness. 

*  Glo.  But  wherefore  stay  we  ?  'tis  no  time  to 

talk . 

"  Now  I  am  come  with  you  to  rescue  him  ; 

"  And  see  where  the  huntsman  and  he  doth  come." 

Malone. 
8  —  and  SHIP — ]     Tlie  first  folio  has  shipt.     The  correction 
was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     J^Ialoxe. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  K 


498  THIRD  PART  OF  act  if, 

K.  Edw.  Huntsman,  what  say'st  thou  ?  wilt  thou 
go  along  ? 

*  Hunt.  Better  do  so  than  tarry  and  be  hang'd. 

*  Glo.  Come  then,  away;  let's  have  no  more 

ado. 

*  K.  Edtf.    Bishop,  farewell :  shield   thee    from 

Warwick's  frown ; 
And  pray  that  I  may  repossess  the  crown. 

[^Exeunt. 

SCENE  VI. 

A  Room  in  the  Tower. 

Enter  K'mg  Henry,  Clarence^  Warwick^  Somer- 
set, young  Richmond,  Oxford,  Montague,  Lieu- 
tenant of  the  Tower,  and  Attendants. 

*  K.  Hen.  Master  lieutenant,  now  that  God  and 

friends 

*  Have  shaken  Edward  from  the  regal  seat ; 

*  And  turn'd  my  captive  state  to  liberty, 

*  My  fear  to  hope,  my  sorrows  unto  joys  ; 

*  At  our  enlargement  what  are  thy  due  fees  ? 

*  Lieu.   Subjects  may  challenge  nothing  of  their 

sovereigns ; 

*  But,  if  an  humble  prayer  may  prevail, 

*  I  then  crave  pardon  of  your  majesty. 

*  K.  Hen.  For  what,  lieutenant  ?  for  well  using 

me  ? 

*  Nay,  be  thou  sure,  I'll  well  requite  thy  kindness, 

*  For  that  it  made  my  imprisonment  a  pleasure  : 

*  Ay,  such  a  pleasure  as  incaged  birds 

*  Conceive,  when,  after  many  moody  thoughts, 

*  At  last,  by  notes  of  household  harmony, 

*  They  quite  forget  their  loss  of  liberty. — 

*  But,  Warwick,  after  God,  thou  set'st  me  free, 

*  And  chiefly  therefore  I  thank  God,  and  thee ; 

7 


sc.  Fi.  KING  HENRY  VI.  499 

*  He  was  the  author,  thou  the  instrument. 

*  Therefore,  that  I  may  conquer  fortune's  spite, 

*  By  Hving  low,  where  fortune  cannot  hurt  me  ; 

*  And  that  the  people  of  this  blessed  land 

*  May  not  be  punish'd  with  my  thwarting  stars  ; 

*  Warwick,  although  my  head  still  wear  the  crown, 
'  I  here  resign  my  government  to  thee, 

'  For  thou  art  fortunate  in  all  thy  deeds. 

*  ff^^R.  Your  grace   hath  still   been  fam'd   for 

virtuous ; 

*  And  now  may  seem  as  wise  as  virtuous, 

*  By  spying,  and  avoiding,  fortune's  malice, 

*  For  few  men  rightly  temper  with  the  stars  " : 

*  Yet  in  this  one  thing  let  me  blame  your  grace, 

*  For  choosing  me  when  Clarence  is  in  place  \ 

*  Cljr.  No,  Warwick,  thou  art  worthy  of  the 

sway, 

*  To  whom  the  heavens,  in  thy  nativity, 

*  Adjudg'd  an  olive  branch,  and  laurel  crown, 

*  As  likely  to  be  blest  in  peace,  and  war ; 

*  And  therefore  I  yield  thee  my  free  consent. 

*  JV^R.  And  I  choose  Clarence  only  for  protector. 

*  K.  Hen.  Warwick,  and  Clarence,  give  me  both 

your  hands ; 

*  Now  join  your  hands,  and,  with  your  hands,  your 

hearts, 
*=  That  no  dissention  hinder  government : 

*  I  make  you  both  protectors  of  this  land; 

*  While  I  myself  will  lead  a  private  life, 

*  And  in  devotion  spend  my  latter  days. 
To  sin's  rebuke,  and  my  Creator's  praise. 

9  —  few  men  rightly  temper  with  the  stars  :]  I  suppose  the 
meaning  is,  that  few  men  conform  their  temper  to  their  destiny ; 
which  King  Henry  did,  when  finding  himself  unfortunate,  he  gave 
the  management  of  publick  affairs  to  more  prosperous  hands. 

JoHNSOiSr. 

*  —  in  place.]     i.  e.  here  present.     See  p.  485,  n.  3. 

Steevens. 

2  K  2 


.600  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  ir. 

IVau.  What  answers  Clarence  to  his  sovereign's 
will  ? 

*  Clar,  That  he  consents,  if  Warwick  yield  con- 

sent ; 

*  For  on  thy  fortune  I  repose  myself. 

*  War.  Why  then,  though  loath,  yet  must  I  be 

content : 

*  We'll  yoke  together,  like  a  double  shadow 

*  To  Henry's  body,  and  supply  his  place  ; 

*  I  mean,  in  bearing  weight  of  government, 

*  While  he  enjoys  the  honour,  and  his  ease. 

*  And,  Clarence,  now  then  it  is  more  than  needful, 

*  Forthwith  that  Edward  be  pronounc'd  a  traitor, 

*  And  all  his  lands  and  goods  be  confiscate  '-. 

Clar.  What  else  .^  and  that  succession  be  deter- 
min'd. 

*  War.  Ay,  therein  Clarence  shall  not  want  his 

part. 

*  K.  Hen.  But,  with  the  first  of  all  your  chief 

affairs, 

*  Let  me  entreat,  (for  I  command  no  more,) 

*  That  Margaret  your  queen,  and  my  son  Edward, 

*  Be  sent  for,  to  return  from  France  with  speed  : 

*  For,  till  I  see  them  here,  by  doubtful  fear 

*  My  joy  of  liberty  is  half  eclips'd. 

Clar.  It  shall  be  done,   my  sovereign,  with  all 
speed. 

*  K.  Hen.  My  lord  of  Somerset,  what  youth  is 

that, 

^  And  all  his  lands  and  goods  be  confiscate]  For  the  insertion 
of  the  vioxA.  be,  which  the  defect  of  the  metre  proves  to  have 
been  accidentally  omitted  in  the  old  copy,  I  am  answerable. 

Mai.one. 

Mr.  Malone's  emendation  is  countenanced  by  the  following  pas- 
sage in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

"  Lest  that  thy  goods  too  soon  he  confiscale." 

^he  second  folio,  however,  reads — covfi seated ;  and  perhaps  this 
reading  is  preferable,  because  it  excludes  the  disagreeable  repeti- 
tion of  the  auxiliarvverb — be.     Steevens. 


£C\  VI,  KING  HENRY  VI.  301 

*  Of  whom  you  seem  to  have  so  tender  care  ? 

'  Sum.  My  liege,  it  is  young  Henry,  earl  of  Rich- 
mond. 

'  K.  Hen.  Come  hither,  England's  hope :  If  secret 
powers  \_Lays  his  Hand  on  his  Head, 

*  Suggest  but  truth  to  my  divining  thoughts, 

*  This  pretty  lad  ^  will  prove  our  country's  bliss. 

3  This  pretty  lad  — ]  He  was  afterwards  Henry  VII.  a  man 
who  put  an  end  to  the  civil  war  of  the  two  houses,  but  no  other- 
wise remarkable  for  virtue.  Shakspeare  knew  his  trade.  Henry  VII. 
was  grandfother  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the  King  from  whom 
James  inherited.     Johnson. 

Shakspeare  only  copied  this  particular,  togetlier  with  many 
others,  from  Holinshed  : — "  whom  when  the  king  had  a  good 
while  beheld,  he  said  to  such  princes  as  xvere  with  him  :  Lo, 
surelie  this  is  he,  to  whom  both  we  and  our  adversaries,  leaving 
the  possession  of  all  things,  shall  hereafter  give  rooine  and  place." 
P.  678. 

"  This  pretty  lad  will  prove  our  country's  bliss."  Thus  the  folio. 
The  quartos  thus  : 

"  Thou,  pretty  boy,  shalt  prove  this  country's  bliss." 

Stervens. 
Holinshed  transcribed  this  passage  almost  verbatim  from  Hall, 
whom  the  author  of  the  old  play,  as   I  conceive,  copied.     This 
speech  originally  stood  thus  : 

"  Come  hither,  pretty  lad.     If  heavenly  powers 

"  Do  aim  aright,  to  my  divining  soul, 

"  Thou,  pretty  boy,  shalt  prove  this  country's  bliss  ; 

"  Thy  head  is  made  to  wear  a  princely  crown  ; 

*'  Thy  looks  are  all  replete  with  majesty : 

"  Make  much  of  him,  my  lords,"  &c. 
Henry  Earl  of  Richmond  was  the  son  of  Edmond  Earl  of  Rich- 
mond, and  Margaret,  daughter  to  John  the  first  Duke  of  Somerset. 
Edmond  Earl  of  Richmond  was  half-brother  to  King  Henry  the 
Sixth,  being  the  son  of  that  King's  mother  Queen  Catharine,  by 
her  second  husband  Owen  Teuther  or  Tudor,  who  was  taken  pri- 
soner at  the  battle  of  Mortimer's  Cross,  and  soon  afterwards  be- 
headed at  Hereford. 

Henry  the  Seventh,  to  show  his  gratitude  to  Henry  the  Sixth 
for  this  early  presage  in  his  favour,  solicited  Pope  Julius  to  canonize 
him  as  a  saint ;  but  either  Henry  would  not  pay  the  money  de- 
manded, or,  as  Bacon  supposes,  the  Pope  refused,  lest  "  as  Henry 
was  reputed  in  the  world  abroad  but  for  a  simple  man,  the  estima- 
tion of  that  kind  of  honour  might  be  diminished,  if  there  were 
not  a  distance  kept  between  innocents  and  saints."     Malone. 


502  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iv, 

*  His  looks  are  full  of  peaceful  majesty ; 

*  His  head  by  nature  fram'd  to  wear  a  crown, 

*  His  hand  to  wield  a  scepter ;  and  himself 

*  Likely,  in  time,  to  bless  a  regal  throne. 
Make  much  of  him,  my  lords  ;  for  this  is  he, 

*  Must  help  you  more  than  you  are  hurt  by  me. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  What  news,  my  friend  ? 

*  Mess.    That  Edward  is   escaped  from   your 

brother, 

*  And  fled,  as  he  hears  since,  to  Burgundy. 
*War.  Unsavoury  news:  But  how  made  he  escape  .^ 

*  Mess.  He  was  convey'd  by  Richard  duke   of 

Gloster, 

*  And  the  lord  Hastings,  who  attended  him  * 

*  In  secret  ambush  on  the  forest  side, 

*  And  from  the  bishop's  huntsmen  rescued  him  ; 

*  For  hunting  was  his  daily  exercise. 

*  War.    My  brother  was   too   careless    of   his 

charge. — 

*  But  let  us  hence,  my  sovereign,  to  provide 

*  A  salve  for  any  sore  that  may  betide. 

\_Exeunt  King  Henry,  Warwick,   Clarence ^ 
Lieutenant,  and  Attendants. 

*  SoM.    My  lord,   I  like   not   of  this   flight  of 

Edward's : 

*  For,  doubtless,  Burgundy  will  yield  him  help ; 

*  And  we  shall  have  more  wars,  before't  be  long. 

*  As  Henry's  late  presaging  prophecy 

*  Did   glad   my   heart,    with  hope  of  this  young 

Richmond ; 

*  So  doth  my  heart  misgive  me,  in  these  conflicts 

*  What  may  befall  him,  to  his  harm,  and  ours  ; 

*  —  ATTENDED  him  — ]     i.  c.   Waited  for  him.     So,  in  Corio- 
lanus : 

*'  I  am  attended  at  the  cypress  grove."     Steevens. 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  503 

*  Therefore,  lord  Oxford,  to  prevent  the  worst, 

*  Forthwith  we'll  send  him  hence  to  Brittany, 

*  Till  storms  be  past  of  civil  enmity. 

*  OxF.  Ay;  for,  if  Edward  repossess  the  crown, 

*  Tis  like,  that  Richmond  with  the  rest  shall  down. 

*  SoM.  It  shall  be  so  ;  he  shall  to  Brittany. 

*  Come  therefore,  let's  about  it  speedily.    \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  VIP. 

Before  York. 

Enter  King  Rdtfard,  Gloster,  Hastings^  and 

Forces. 

*  K.  Edw.  Now,  brother  Richard^  lord^  Hastings, 
and  the  rest ; 

5  Scene  VII.]  This  scene  in  the  old  play  precedes  that  which 
Shakspeare  has  made  the  sixth  of  the  present  Act.     Malone. 

<5  Now,  brother  Richard,  &c.]  Instead  of  this  and  the  three 
following  speeches,  the  quartos  read  only  : 

"  Eyiter  Edward  mid  Richard,  tvith  a  troop  of  Hollanders. 
"  Edw.  Thus  far  from  Belgia  have  we  past  the  seas, 
"  And  march'd  from  Raunspur-haven  unto  York  : 
"  But  soft !  the  gates  are  shut ;  I  like  not  this. 

"  liich.  Sound  up  the  drum,  and  call  them  to  the  walls." 

Steevens. 

"J  —  lord — ]  Mr.  M.  Mason  recommends  the  omission  of  this 
word.     Reed. 

«  _  lord  Hastings,  and  the  rest."  "  Leave  out  the  word  lord," 
says  one  of  our  author's  commentators.  If  we  do  not  closely 
attend  to  his  phraseology  and  metre,  and  should  think  ourselves 
at  liberty  to  substitute  modern  phraseology  and  modern  metre, 
almost  every  line  in  his  plays  might  be  altered. — Brother,  like 
many  similar  words,  {rather,  whether,  either,  &c.)  is  here  used  by 
Shakspeare  as  a  monosyllable,  and  the  metre  was  to  his  ear  per- 
fect.    Malone. 

That  there  is  a  marked  discrimination  between  ancient  and 
modern  phraseology,  no  man  will  deny ;  but,  surely,  ancient  and 
modern  five-foot  verses  can  have  no  corresponding  difference. 
Where,  in  general,  shall  we  find  more  perfect  and  harmonious 
metre  than  that  of  Shakspeare  ?    His  irregular  lines  are  therefore 


504  THIRD  PART  OF  JCT  iv. 

*  Yet  thus  far  fortune  maketh  us  amends, 

*  And  says — that  once  more  I  shall  interchange 

*  My  waned  state  for  Henry's  regal  crown. 

'  Well  have  we  pass'd,  and  now  repass'd  the  seas, 

*  And  brought  desired  help  from  Burgundy : 

*  What  then  remains,  we  being  thus  arrived 

*  From    Ravenspurg   haven   before    the    gates   of 

York  \ 

*  But  that  we  enter,  as  into  our  dukedom  ? 

*  Glo.  The  gates  made  fast ! — Brother,  I  like  not 

this ; 

*  For  many  men,  that  stumble  at  the  threshold, 

*  Are  well  foretold— that  danger  lurks  within. 

*  K.  Edw.  Tush,  man !  abodements  must  not 

now  affright  us : 
By  fair  or  foul  means  we  must  enter  in. 
For  hither  will  our  friends  repair  to  us. 


* 


justly  suspected  of  having  suffered  from  omission  or  interpolation. 
— As  to  the  latter  part  of  Mr.  Malone's  note,  in  which  brother  is 
said  to  be  used  as  a  monosyllable, — valeat  quantum  valere  potest. 

Steevens. 

Malone  says  that  brother  is  to  be  pronounced  as  one  syllable ; 

but  that  alone  will  not  be  sufficient  to  complete  the  metre.     We 

must  also  lay  the  accent  on  the  last  syllable  of  the  word  Richard, 

and  the  line  must  run  thus  : 

*'  Now  bro'r  Richard,  Lord  Hastings  and  the  rest." 
which  would  not  be  very  harmonious.     M.  Masov." 

That  brother  may  be  pronounced  in  the  time  of  a  monosyllable 
is  shown  by  a  former  line,  p.  497,  where  we  have  two  redundant 
syllables  : 

"  Now,  brother  of  Gloster,  lord  Hastings,  and  the  rest, — " 
That  other  words  were  used  with  the  same  license  is  also  shown 
p.  489,  even  with  Mr.  Steeven's  correction  : 

"  But  welcome,  Clarence,  my  daughter  shall  be  thine  !  " 

BOSWELL. 

^  From  Ravenspurgh  haven  before  the  gates  of  York,]  We 
may  infer  from  the  old  quarto  (see  note  6,  in  the  preceding  page,) 
that  Ravenspurph  was  occasionally  pronounced  as  a  dissyllable — 
Rau7ispurgh.  This  line  will  therefore  become  strictly  metrical,  if 
we  read  (adopting  an  elision  common  to  Shakspeare) : 

"  From  Ravenspurgh  haven  yore  the  gates  of  York."' 

Steevens. 
Sec  the  preceding  note.     Boswell. 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  505 

*  EUsT.    My  liege,    I'll  knock   once   more,   to 

summon  them. 

Enter,  on  the  Walls,  the  Mayor  of  York,  and  his 

Brethren, 

*  M^Y.  My  lords,  we  were  forewarned  of  your 

coming, 
'  And  shut  the  gates  for  safety  of  ourselves ; 

*  For  now  we  owe  allegiance  unto  Henry. 

'  K.  Edw.  But,  master  mayor,  if  Henry  be  your 
king, 

*  Yet  Edward,  at  the  least,  is  duke  of  York. 

*  JSLrtY.  True,  my  good  lord ;  I  know  you  for  no 

less. 

*  K.  Enw.  Why,  and  I  challenge  nothing  but  my 

dukedom ; 

*  As  being  well  content  with  that  alone. 

*  Glo.  But,  when  the  fox  hath  once  got  in  his 

nose, 

*  He'll  soon  find  means  to  make  the  body  follow. 

[Aside. 

*  H.4ST.  Why,  master  mayor,  why  stand  you  in  a 

doubt  ? 
Open  the  gates,  we  are  king  Henry's  friends. 

*  May.  Ay,  say  you  so  ?  the  gates  shall  then  be 

open'd.  \_E.veu7it  from  above. 

*  Glo.  a  wise  stout  captain,  and  persuaded  soon  ^ ! 

*  Hast.  The  good  old  man  would  fain  that  all 

were  well\ 

*  So  'twere  not  'long  of  him  :  but,  being  enter  d, 

*  I  doubt  not,  I,  but  we  shall  soon  persuade 

9  —  persuaded  soon  !]  Old  copy — soon  persuaded.  This 
transposition,  which  requires  no  apology,  was  made  by  Sir  T. 
Hanmer.     Steevens. 

I  The  good  old  man  would  fain  that  all  were  well,]  The 
Mayor  is  willing  we  should  enter,  so  he  may  not  be  blamed. 

Johnson. 


506  THIRD  PART  OF  act  ir, 

*  Both  him,  and  all  his  brothers,  unto  reason. 

Re-enter  the  Mayor,  and  Two  Aldermen,  below. 

*  K.  Eorr.  So,  master  mayor :  these  gates  must 

not  be  shut, 

*  But  in  the  night,  or  in  the  time  of  war. 

*  What !  fear  not,  man,  but  yield  me  up  the  keys ; 

[Takes  his  Keys, 

*  For  Edward  will  defend  the  town,  and  thee, 

*  And  all  those  friends  that  deign  to  follow  me. 

Drum.    Enter  Montgomery,  andForces,  marching, 

Glo.  Brother,  this  is  sir  John  Montgomery, 
Our  trusty  friend,  unless  I  be  deceiv'd. 

'  K.  Edtf.  Welcome,  sir  John  !  But  why  come 

you  in  arms  ? 
Mont.  To  help  king  Edward  in  his  time  of  storm. 
As  every  loyal  subject  ought  to  do. 

'  K.  Edw.  Thanks,  good  Montgomery :  But  we 
now  forget 

*  Our  title  to  the  crown ;  and  only  claim 

'  Onr  dukedom,  till  God  please  to  send  the  rest. 
'  Mont.   Then  fare  you  M^ell,  for  I  will  hence 
again ; 
I  came  to  serve  a  king,  and  not  a  duke, — 

*  Drummer,  strike  up,  and  let  us  march  away. 

[A  March  begun. 
'  K.  Enrr.  Nay,  stay,  sir  John,  a  while ;  and  we'll 
debate, 

*  By  what  safe  means  the  crown  may  be  recover'd. 

*  Mont.  What  talk  you  of  debating  ?  in  few  words  : 

*  If  you'll  not  here  proclaim  yourself  our  king, 

*  I'll  leave  you  to  your  fortune  ;  and  be  gone. 
To  keep  them  back  that  come  to  succour  you : 
Why  should  we  fight,  if  you  pretend  no  title  ? 

*  Glo.  Why,  brother,  wherefore  stand  you  on  nice 

points  ? 


sc.  VJJ.  KING  HENRY  VI.  607 

*  K.  Edtf.  When  we  grow  stronger,  then  we'll 

make  our  claim  : 

*  Till  then,  'tis  wisdom  to  conceal  our  meaning. 

*  Hast.  Away  with  scrupulous  wit !  now  arms 

must  rule. 

*  Glo.  And  fearless  minds  climb  soonest  unto 

crowns. 

*  Brother,  we  will  proclaim  you  out  of  hand  ; 

*  The  bruit "  thereof  will  bring  you  many  friends. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Then  be  it  as  you  will ;  for  'tis  my 

right, 

*  And  Henry  but  usurps  the  diadem. 

Mont.    Ay,   now  my   sovereign   speaketh    like 

himself; 
And  now  will  I  be  Edward's  champion. 

Hast.    Sound,  trumpet;  Edward  shall  be  here 

proclaim'd : — 

*  Come,  fellow-soldier,  make  thou  proclamation. 

\Gi'oes  him  a  Paper.     Flourish. 
Sold.   [^Reads.']  Edzoardthe  fou7Hh,by  the  grace 
of  God,  ki?ig  of  England  and  France,  and  lord  of 
Ireland,  S^c. 

Mont.  And  whosoe'er  gainsays  king  Edward's  right, 
By  this  I  challenge  him  to  single  fight. 

[Throws  down  his  Gauntlet. 
All.  Long  live  Edward  the  fourth  ! 

*  K.  Edtf.  Thanks,   brave  Montgomery  ; — and 

thanks  unto  you  all  ^. 

*  The  BRUIT — ]  The  word  hruit  is  found  in  BuUokar's  English 
Expositor,  8vo.  1616,  and  is  defined  "  A  reporte  spread  abroad." 

Malone. 

So,  in  Preston's  Cambises  : 

" whose  manly  acts  do  fly 

"  By  hruit  of  fame ." 

See  vol.  xi.  p.  '269,  n.  9.     Steevens. 

This  French  word  bruit  was  very  early  made  a  denizen  of  our 
language.  Thus  in  the  Bible  :  "  Behold  the  noise  of  the  bruit  is 
come." — Jeremiah,  x.  22.     Whalley. 

3  Thanks,  brave  Montgomery ;— and  thanks  unto  you  all.] 
Surely  we  ought  to  read  : 


508  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  ir, 

*  If  fortune  serve  me,  I'll  requite  this  kindness. 

*  Now,  for  this  night,  let's  harbour  here  in  York  : 

*  And,  when  the  morning  sun  shall  raise  his  car 

*  Above  the  border  of  this  horizon, 

*  We'll  forward  towards  Warwick,  and  his  mates : 

*  For,  well  I  wot,  that  Henry  is  no  soldier.— 

*  Ah,  froward  Clarence  ! — how  evil  it  beseems  thee, 

*  To  flatter  Henry,  and  forsake  thy  brother  ! 

*  Yet,  as  we  may,  we'll  meet  both  thee  and  War- 

wick.— 

*  Come  on,  brave  soldiers  ;  doubt  not  of  the  day ; 

*  And,  that  once  gotten,  doubt  not  of  large  pay. 

\_E.veunt. 

SCENE  VIII  \ 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Henry,  IVjrwick,   Clarence,   Mon- 
tague, Exeter,  and  Oxford. 

War,  What  counsel,  lords  ?  Edward  fromBelgia, 
With  hasty  Germans,  and  blunt  Hollanders, 
Hath  pass'd  in  safety  through  the  narrow  seas. 


"  Thanks,  brave  Montgomery  ; — and  thanks  to  all." 
Instead  of  this  speech,  the  quartos  have  only  the  following  : 
"  Edvo.  We  thank  you  all  :  lord  mayor,  lead  on  the  way, 
*'  For  this  night  we  will  harbour  here  in  York  ; 
"  And  then  as  early  as  the  morning  sun 
"  Lifts  up  his  beams  above  this  horizon, 
"  We'll  march  to  London  to  meet  with  Warwick, 
"  And  pull  false  Henry  from  the  regal  throne."     Steevens. 
"■  Scene  VIII.]     This  scene  is,  perhaps,  the  worst  contrived  in 
any  of  these  plays.     \¥arwick   has  but  just  gone  oft"  tlie  stage 
when  Edward  says : 

"  And  towards  Coventry  bend  we  our  course, 
"  Where  peremptory  Warwick  now  remains." 

M.  Mason. 
This  scene  in  the  original  play  follows  immediately  after  Henry's 
observation  on  young  Richmond^  which  is  in  the  sixth  scene  of  the 
preaent  play.     Malone. 


*c'.  VIII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  .509 

And  with  his  troops  doth  march  amain  to  London ; 

*  And  many  giddy  people  flock  to  him. 

*  OxF.  Let's  levy  men,  and  beat  him  back  again\ 

*  Clar.  a  little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out ; 

*  Which,  being  suffer'd,  rivers  cannot  quench. 

War,   In    Warwickshire    I    have    true-hearted 
friends, 
Not  mutinous  in  peace,  yet  bold  in  war ; 
Those  will  I  muster  up : — and  thou,  son  Clarence, 

*  Shalt  stir  up  in  Suffolk  ^  Norfolk,  and  in  Kent, 

*  The  knights  and  gentlemen  to  come  with  thee  : — 

5  Let's  levy  men,  and  beat  him  back  again,]  This  line  ex- 
presses a  spirit  of  war  so  unsuitoible  to  the  character  of  Henry, 
that  I  would  give  the  first  cold  speech  to  the  King,  and  the  brisk 
answer  to  Warwick.  This  line  is  not  in  the  old  quarto  ;  and  when 
Henry  said  nothing,  the  first  speech  might  be  as  properly  given 
to  Warwick  as  to  any  other.     Johnson. 

Every  judicious  reader  must  concur  in  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion, 
as  far  as  it  relates  to  the  second  of  these  two  speeches. 

Steevens. 
This  line  is  given  in  the  folio  to  the  King,  to  whom  it  is  so  un- 
suitable, that  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  merely  a  printer's  error.     I 
have  not,  however,  assigned  it  to  Warwick,  and  the  preceding 
speech  to  Henry,  as  Dr.  Johnson  proposes,  because  it  appears  to 
me  safer  to  take  the  old  play  as  a  guide  ;  in  which,  as  in  Shak- 
speare's  piece,  the  first  speech  is  attributed  to  Warwick.     The 
second  speech  is  given  to  Oxford,  and  stands  thus  : 
"  Oxf.  'Tis  best  to  look  to  this  betimes  ; 
"  Yox  if  this  fire  do  kindle  any  further 
"  It  will  be  hard  for  us  to  quench  it  out." 
Shakspeare,  in  new-modelling  this  scene,  probably  divided  this 
speech  between  Oxford  and  Clarence,  substituting  the  line  before 
us  in  the  room  of  the  words — "  'Tis  best  to  look  to  this  betimes." 
I  have  therefore  given  this  line  to  Oxford.     It  might  with  equal, 
or  perhaps  with  more  propriety,  be  assigned  to  Warwick's  bro- 
ther, Montague.     Malone. 

^  Shalt  STIR,  in  Sufiolk,  &c.]  The  old  copy — stir  2</j,  But  the 
omission  of  the  adverb,  which  hurts  the  metre,  is  justified  by  the 
following  passages  in  King  John,  &c. : 

"  I'll  stir  them  to  it : — Come,  away,  away  !  ' ' 
Again,  ibid. : 

"  An  Ate  stirring  him  to  war  and  strife." 
Again,  in  King  Lear : 

"  If  it  be  you  that  stir  these  daughters'  hearts 
"  Against  their  father. — "■     Steevens. 


510  THIRD  PART  OF  act  iv. 

*  Thou,  brother  Montague,  in  Buckingham, 

*  Northampton,  and  in  Leicestershire,  shalt  find 

*  Men  well  inclin'd  to  hear  what  thou  command's! : — 
And  thou,  brave  Oxford,  wondrous  well  belov'd. 

In  Oxfordshire  shalt  muster  up  thy  friends. — 
My  sovereign,  with  the  loving  citizens, — 

*  Like  to  his  island,  girt  in  with  the  ocean, 

*  Or  modest  Dian,  circled  with  her  nymphs, — 
Shall  rest  in  London,  till  we  come  to  him. — 
Fair  lords,  take  leave,  and  stand  not  to  reply. — 
Farewell,  my  sovereign. 

K.  Hen.  Farewell,  my  Hector,  and  my  Troy's 
true  hope^ 

*  Clar.  In  sign  of  truth,   I  kiss  your  Highness' 

hand. 

*  K.  Hen.  Well-minded  Clarence,  be  thou  for- 

tunate ! 

*  Mont.  Comfort,  my  lord  ; — and   so  I  take  my 

leave. 

*  OxF.  And  thus  \_Kissing  Henrys  hand.~\  I  seal 

my  truth,  and  bid  adieu. 

*  K.  Hen.  Sweet  Oxford,   and  my  loving  Mon- 

tague, 

*  And  all  at  once,  once  more  a  happy  farewell. 
War.    Farewell,    sweet    lords ;    let's    meet    at 

Coventry. 

\_E.veunt  War.  Clar.  Oxf.  and  Mont. 

*  K.  Hen.  Here  at  the  palace  will  I  rest  a  while. 

7  —  my  Hector,  and  my  Troy's  true  hope.]     This  line  having 
])robably  made  an  impression  on  our  author,   when   he  read  over 
the  old  play,  he  has  applied  the  very  same  expression  to  the  Duke 
of  York  where  his  overthrow  at  Wakefield  is  described,  and  yet 
suffered  the  line  to  stand  here  as  he  found  it : 
"  Environed  he  was  with  many  foes, 
"  And  stood  against  them,  as  the  hope  of  Troy 
"  Against  the  Greeks." 
The   two  latter  lines,  as  the  reader  may  find  in  p.  405,  n.  S, 
were  new,  no  trace  of  them  being  there  found  in  the  old  play. 
Many  similar  repetitions  may  be  observed  in  this  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  from  the  same  cause.     Malone. 


sc.  vm.  KING  HENRY  VI.  511 

*  Cousin  of  Exeter,  what  thinks  your  lordship  ? 

*  Methinks,  the  power,  that  Edward  hath  in  field, 

*  Should  not  be  able  to  encounter  mine. 

*  ExE.  The  doubt  is,  that  he  will  seduce  the  rest. 

*  K,  Hen.  That's  not  my  fear,  my  meed  hath  got 

me  fame^. 

*  I  have  not  stopp'd  mine  ears  to  their  demands, 
*=  Nor  posted  off  their  suits  with  slow  delays  ; 

*  My  pity  hath  been  balm  to  heal  their  wounds, 

*  My  mildness  hath  allay'd  their  swelling  griefs, 

*  My  mercy  dry'd  their  water-flowing  tears  : 

*  I  have  not  been  desirous  of  their  wealth, 

*  Nor  much  oppress'd  them  with  great  subsidies, 

*  Nor  forward  of  revenge,  though  they  much  err'd  ; 

*  Then  why  should  they  love  Edward  more  than  me  ? 

*  No,  Exeter,  these  graces  challenge  grace : 

*  And,  when  the  lion  fawns  upon  the  lamb, 

*  The  lamb  will  never  cease  to  follow  him. 

[Shout  within.     A  Lancaster  ^'  A  Lancaster ! 

*  ExE.   Hark,  hark,  my   lord !    what   shouts   are 

these  ? 


8  —  my  MEED  hath  got  me  fame :]  Meed  signifies  retvarcl. 
We  should  read — my  deed  ;  i.  e.  my  manners,  conduct  in  the  ad- 
ministration.    Warburton. 

This  word  signifies  merit,  both  as  a  verb  and  a  substantive  : 
that  it  is  used  as  a  verb,  is  clear  from  the  following  foolish  couplet 
which  I  remember  to  have  read  : 

"  Deem  if  I  meed, 
"  Dear  madam,  read." 
A  Specimen  of  Verses  that  read  the  same  xuay  bachvard 
nndjorxvard.     Sir  J.  Hawkins. 
Meed  here  means  merit,  as  it  did  in  a  former  passage,  [p.  404, 
n.  8,]  when  Edward  says  of  himself  and  his  brothers  ; 

•'  Each  one  already  blazing  by  our  meeds."     M.  Mason, 

9  Shout  xiithin.  A  Lancaster  I]  Surely  the  shouts  that 
ushered  King  Edward  should  be  A  York  !  A  York  !  I  suppose 
the  author  did  not  write  the  marginal  directions,  and  the  players 
confounded  the  characters.     Johnson. 

We  may  suppose  the  shouts  to  have  come  from  some  of  Henry's 
guard,  on  the  appearance  of  Edward.     Malone. 


512  THIRD  PART  OF  act  jf. 

Enter  King  Edward,  Gloster,  and  Soldiers. 

*  K.  Edjf.  Seize  on  the  shame-fac'd  Henry,  bear 

him  hence, 

*  And  once  again  proclaim  us  king  of  England. — 

*  You  are  the  fount,  that  makes  small  brooks  to 

flow ; 

*  Now  stops  thy  spring ;  my  sea  shall  suck  them  dry, 

*  And  swell  so  much  the  higher  by  their  ebb. — 

*  Hence  with  him  to  the  Tower;  let  him  not  speak. 

\Exeunt  some  with  King  Henry. 

*  And,  lords,  towards  Coventry  bend  we  our  course, 
'  Where  peremptory  Warwick  now  remains  ^ : 

*  The  sun  shines  hot ",  and,  if  we  use  delay, 

*  Cold  biting  winter  mars  our  hop'd-for  hay. 

*  Glo.  Away  betimes,  before  his  forces  join, 

*  And  take  the  great-grown  traitor  unawares  : 

*  Brave  warriors,  march  amain  towards  Coventry. 

[Exeunt. 

*  And,  lords,  towards  Coventry  bend  we  our  course. 

Where  peremptory  Warwick  now  remains  :]  Warwick,  as 
Mr.  M.  Mason  has  observed,  [p.  508,  n.  4',]  has  but  just  left  the 
stage,  declaring  his  intention  to  go  to  Coventry.  How  then  could 
Edward  know  of  that  intention  ?  Our  author  was  led  into  this 
impropriety  by  the  old  j^lay,  where  also  Edward  says  : 

"  And  now  towards  Coventiy  let's  bend  our  course, 
"  To  meet  with  VV^arwick  and  his  confederates," 
Some  of  our  old  writers  seem  to  have  thought,  that  all  the  per- 
sons of  the    drama  must  know  whatever  was    known    to    the 
writers  themselves,  or  to  the  audience.     Malone. 

*  The  sun  shines  hot,  &c.]  These  lines  are  formed  on  two 
others  which  are  found  in  the  old  play  in  a  subsequent  scene  in 
the  next  Act,  being  spoken  by  Edward,  after  the  battle  of  Barnet, 
and  just  before  be  sets  out  for  Tewksbury  : 

"  — — —  Come,  let  us  go ; 

"  For  if  we  slack  this  fair  bright  summers  day, 

"  Sliarp  winters  showers  will  mar  our  hope,Jor  haie." 

Malone. 


^CT  r.  KING  HENRY  VI.  513 

ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 

Coventry. 

Enter  upon  the  Walls,    Jf^RWJcK,   the  Mayor  of 
Coventry,  Two  Messejigers,  and  Others. 
War.  Where  is  the  post  that  came  from  valiant 
Oxford  .^ 
How  far  hence  is  thy  lord,  mine  honest  fellow  .^ 

*  1  Mess.  By  this  at  Dunsmore  ^,  marching  hi- 

therward. 
War.  How  far  off  is  our  brother  Montague  ? — 
Where  is  the  post  that  came  from  Montague  ? 
'  2  Mess.  By  this  at  Daintry  *,  with  a  puissant  troop. 

Enter  Sir  John  Somerville. 

*  War.  Say,  Somerville,  what  says  my  loving  son  ? 

*  And,  by  the  guess,  how  nigh  is  Clarence  now  ? 

*  SoM.   At  Southam   I   did  leave  him  with   his 

forces, 

*  And  do  expect  him  here  some  two  hours  hence. 

[Drum  heard. 

*  War.  Then  Clarence  is  at  hand,  I  hear  his  drum. 

*  SoM.  It  is  not  his,  my  lord  ;  here  Southam  lies  ; 

*  The   drum  your   honour  hears,   marcheth   from 

Warwick. 

*  War.  Who  should  that  be  ?  belike,  unlook'd- 

for  friends. 

*  SoM.  They  are  at  hand,  and  you  shall  quickly 

know. 

Drums.      Enter  King    Edward,    Gloster,   and 

Forces,  marching. 

*  K.  Edw.  Go,  trumpet,  to  the  walls,  and  sound 

a  parle. 

3  —  at    Dunsmore,]      The   quartos    read — at    Daintry  :    i.  e. 
Daventiy.     Steevens. 

•^  — at  Daintry,]    The  quartos  read — at  Dunsmore,    Steevens* 
VOL.  xviii.  2  L 


514  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  Glo,  See,  how  the  surly  Warwick  mans  the 

wall. 
TV^R.  O,  unhid  spite !  is  sportful  Edward  come  ? 
Where  slept  our  scouts  \  or  how  are  they  seduc'd, 
That  we  could  hear  no  news  of  his  repair  ? 

*  K.  Edv/.  Now,  Warwick,  wilt  thou  ope  the 

city  gates, 

*  Speak    gentle    words,    and    humbly    bend    thy 

knee  ? — 

*  Call  Edward — king,  and  at  his  hands  beg  mercy, 

*  And  he  shall  pardon  thee  these  outrages. 

*  fVyiR.  Nay,  rather,  wilt  thou  draw  thy   forces 

hence. 
Confess  who  set  thee  up  and  pluck'd  thee  down  ? 
Call  Warwick — patron,  and  be  penitent, 
And  thou  shalt  still  remain  the  duke  of  York. 
Glo.  I  thought,  at  least,  he  would  have  said — 
the  king ; 
Or  did  he  make  the  jest  against  his  will.^ 

*  JV.iR.  Is  not  a  dukedom,  sir,  a  goodly  gift  ? 

*  Glo.  Ay,  by  my  faith,  for  a  poor  earl  to  give  ; 

*  I'll  do  thee  service  ^  for  so  good  a  gift. 

*  PKiR.  'Twas  I,  that  gave  the  kingdom  to  thy 

brother. 
K.  Edtf.  Why  then  'tis  mine,  if  but  by  War- 
wick's gift. 

*  War.  Thou  art  no  Atlas  for  so  great  a  weight : 
And,  weakling,  Warwick  takes  his  gift  again ; 
And  Henry  is  my  king,  Warwick  his  subject. 

*  K.  Edtf.  But  Warwick's  king  is  Edward's  pri- 

soner : 

*  And,  gallant  Warwick,  do  but  answer  this, — 


5  Where  slept  our  scouts  ?]     So,  in  King  John  : 
"  O,  where  hath  our  intelligence  been  drunk  ? 
"  Where  hath  it  slepl'^"'     Steevens. 
^  I'll  do  thee  service — ]     i.  e.  enroll  myself  among  thy  depen- 
dants.    Cowell  informs  us,  that  servitium  is  "  that  service  which 
the  tenant,  by  reason  of  his  fee,  oweth  unto  his  lord,"  Steevens, 


sc.  I.  KING  HENRY  VI.  515 

What  is  the  body,  when  the  head  is  off? 

*  Gt.o.  Alas,  that  Warwick  had  no  more  forecast, 
But,  whiles  he  thought  to  steal  the  single  ten, 

*  The  king  was  slily  finger'd  from  the  deck '' ! 
You  left  poor  Henry  at  the  bishop's  palace  ^, 
And,  ten  to  one,  you'll  meet  him  in  the  Tower. 

K.  Edw.    'Tis  even  so;    yet  you  are  Warwick 
still  \ 

*  Glo.  Come,  Warwick,  take  the  time  \  kneel 

down,  kneel  down : 

*  Nay,  when  ^  ?  strike  now,  or  else  the  iron  cools. 

*  War.  I  had  rather  chop  this  hand  off  at  a  blow, 

*  And  with  the  other  fling  it  at  thy  face, 

*  Than  bear  so  low  a  sail,  to  strike  to  thee. 

7  The  king  was  slily  finger'd  from  the  deck  !]  The  quartos 
read— ^^Hf/y  finger'd. 

Finely  is  subtly.  So,  in  Holinshed's  reign  of  King  Henry  VI. 
p.  640  :  "  In  his  way  he  tooke  by  Jine  force,  a  tower,"  &c. 
Again,  p.  649,  "  —  and  hy Jine  force  either  to  win  their  purpose, 
or  end  their  lives  in  the  same." 

A  pack  of  cards  was  anciently  termed  a  deck  of  cards,  or  « 
pair  of  cards.  It  is  still,  as  I  am  informed,  so  called  in  Ireland. 
Thus,  in  King  Edward  I.  1599  :  "  —  as  it  were,  turned  us,  with 
duces  and  trays,  out  oiiht  deck." 

Again,  in  The  Two  Maids  of  Moreclacke,  1609  : 

"  I'll  deal  the  cards  and  cut  you  from  the  deeh.'" 

Again,  in  Selimus,  Emperor  of  the  Turks,  1.591: 
"  Well,  if  I  chance  but  once  to  get  the  deck, 
"  To  deal  about  and  shuffle  as  I  would."     Steevens. 

An  instance  of  a  pack  of  cards  being  called  a  deck,  occurs  in 
W\e:  sessions  paper,  for  January,  1788.  So  that  the  term  appears 
to  be  still  in  use.     RITso^f. 

^  —  the  bishop's  palace,]     The  palace  of  the  bishop  of  London. 

Malone. 

9  — yet  you  are  Warwick  still.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  old 
play  reads — and  yet  you  are  oidd  Warwick  still.     Malone. 

'  —  TAKE  the  time,]     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" but  we'll  take  to-morrow." 

An  expression  which  Mr.  Malone  would  change  for — "  talk  to- 
morrow."    See  vol.  xi.  p.  137,  n.  6.     Steevens. 

*  Nay,  WHEN?]  This  exclamation,  expressive  of  impatience, 
has  already  occurred  in  King  Richard  II.  See  vol.  xvi.p.  15,  n.3. 

Steevens. 

2l2 


516  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  K.  Enw.  Sail  how  thou  canst,  have  wind  and 

tide  thy  friend ; 
^  This  hand,  fast  wound  about  thy  coal-black  hair, 

*  Shall,  whiles  the  head  is  warm,  and  new  cut  off, 
=*  Write  in  the  dust  this  sentence  with  thy  blood, — 

*  JVind-changing  Jfarwick  now  can  change,  no  more. 

Enter  Oxford,  with  Drum  and  Colours. 

*  War.  O  cheerful  colours !  see,  where  Oxford 

comes ! 
OxF.  Oxford,  Oxford,  for  Lancaster ! 

[Oxford  and  his  Forces  enter  the  City. 

*  Glo.  The  gates  are  open,  let  us  enter  too^. 

*  K.  Edjv.  So  other  foes  may  set  upon  our  backs. 

*  Stand  we  in  good  array  ;  for  they,  no  doubt, 

*  Will  issue  out  again,  and  bid  us  battle : 

*  If  not,  the  city,  being  but  of  small  defence, 

*  We'll  quickly  rouse  the  traitors  in  the  same. 

War.  O,  welcome,  Oxford  !  for  we  want  thy  help. 

Enter  Montague,  with  Drum  and  Colours. 

Mont.  Montague,  Montague,  for  Lancaster  I 

\_He  and  his  Forces  enter  the  City, 

*  Glo.  Thou  and  thy  brother  both  shall  buy  this 

treason 
'  Even  with  the  dearest  blood  your  bodies  bear. 

*  K.  Edw.  The  harder  match'd,  the  greater  vic- 

tory; 

*  My  mind  presageth  happy  gain,  and  conquest. 

3  The  gates  are  open,  let  us  enter  too.]     Thus  the  folio.     The 
quartos  read : 

"  The  gates  are  open,  see,  they  enter  in  ; 

"  Let's  follow  them,  and  bid  them  battle  in  the  streets. 

"  TLdtv.  No:  so  some  other  might  set  upon  our  backs, 
"  We'll  stay  till  all  be  enter'd,  and  then  follow  them." 

Steevens. 


SCI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  517 

Enter  Somerset,  with  Drmn  and  Colours. 

SoM.  Somerset,  Somerset,  for  Lancaster! 

[He  and  Ins  Forces  enter  the  City. 

Glo.  Two  of  thy  name,  both  dukes  of  Somerset, 
Have  sold  their  lives  unto  the  house  of  York  * ; 
And  thou  shalt  be  the  third,  if  this  sword  hold. 

Enter  Clarence,  with  Drum  and  Colours. 
War.  And  lo,  where  George  of  Clarence  sweeps 
along, 
Of  force  enough  to  bid  his  brother  battle  ^ ; 

*  With  whom  an  upright  zeal  to  right  prevails, 

*  More  than  the  nature  of  a  brother's  love  : — 

*  Come,  Clarence,  come ;   thou  wilt,  if  Warwick 

calls. 
Clar.  Father  of  Warwick,  know  you  what  this 
means  ? 

[Taking  the  red  Rose  out  of  his  Cap  ^. 

4  Two  OF  THY  NAME,  BOTH  dukes  of  Somcrset, 

Have  sold  their  lives  unto  the  house  of  York  ;]  The  first  of 
these  noblemen  was  Edmund,  slain  at  the  battle  of  Saint  Alban's, 
1455.  See  vol.  xviii.  p.  353.  The  second  was  Henry  his  son,  be- 
headed after  the  battle  of  Hexham,  1463.  The  present  duke 
Edmund,  brother  to  Henry,  was  taken  prisoner  at  Tewksbury, 
1471,  and  there  beheaded,  (infra,  Sc.  V.)  his  brother  John  losing 
his  life  in  the  same  fight.     Ritson. 

5  — to  bid  his  brother  battle  ;]     Here  the  quartos  conclude 
this  speech,  and  add  the  following  : 

"  Clar.  Clarence,  Clarence,  for  Lancaster  ! 
"  Ediv.  Et  tu  brute  !  wilt  thou  stab  Caesar  too  ? 
"  A  parly,  sirra,  to  George  of  Clarence." 
To  bid  battle  is  a  phrase  that  often  occurs  in  ancient  wi iters 
Thus,  in  the  Batrachomuomachia  of  Homer,    as   translated   by 
Chapman  : 

"  O  frogs  !  the  mice  send  threats  to  you  of  arms, 
"  And  bid  me  bid  ijov,  battle"     Steevens. 
This  line  of  the  old  play,  Et  tu  Brute !  &c.  is  found  also  in 
Acolastus   his  Afterwitte,  a  poem  by  S.  Nicholson,   1600  ;  and 
the  Latin  words,  though  not  retained  here,  were  afterwards  trans- 
planted by  Shakspeare  into  his  Julius  Ctesar,  Act  HI.     Malone. 
^  l\i/ciiig  the  red  Rose  out  of  his  Cap. ^     This  note  of  direc- 


513  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  Look  here,  I  throw  my  infamy  at  thee: 
I  will  not  ruinate  my  father's  house. 

Who  gave  his  blood  to  lime  the  stones''  together, 

*  And  set  up  Lancaster.     Why,  trow'st  thou  War> 

wick, 

*  That  Clarence  is  so  harsh,  so  blunt,  unnatural  ^, 
'  To  bend  the  fatal  instruments  of  war 

*  Against  his  brother,  and  his  lawful  king^  ? 

*  Perhaps,  thou  wilt  object  my  holy  oath : 

*  To  keep  that  oath,  were  more  impiety 

*  Than  Jephtha's\  when  hesacrific'd  his  daughter. 

*  I  am  so  sorry  for  my  trespass  made, 

*  That  to  deserve  well  at  my  brother's  hands, 

*  I  here  proclaim  myself  thy  mortal  foe  ; 

*  With  resolution,  wheresoe'er  I  meet  thee, 

*  (As  I  will  meet  thee,  if  thou  stir  abroad,) 

*  To  plague  thee  for  thy  foul  misleading  me. 
And  so,  proud-hearted  Warwick,  I  defy  thee. 
And  to  my  brother  turn  my  blushing  cheeks. — 

*  Pardon  me,  Edward,  I  will  make  amends ; 

tion  I  restored  from  the  old  quarto.  And,  without  it,  it  is  im- 
possible that  any  reader  can  guess  at  the  meaning  of  this  line  of 
Clarence  : 

"  Look,  here,  I  throw  my  infamy  at  thee.     Theobald. 
'—to   lime  the  stones — ]     That  is,  to  cement  the  stones. 
Lime  makes  mortar.     Johnson. 

^  That  Clarence  is  so  harsh,  so  blunt,  unnatural,]  This  line, 
(too  long  by  a  foot)  was,  in  my  opinion,  interpolated  by  the 
players,  who  appear  the  sworn  enemies  of  an  ellipsis. — Omit  the 
words — that  and  is,  and  no  want  of  them  will  be  felt  by  such 
readers  as  are  well  acquainted  with  the  ancient  language. —  "  Why, 
conceivest  thou,  Warwick,  Clarence  so  harsh,"  &c. —  ? 

Steevens. 
"—so  blunt."     Stupid,  insensible  of  paternal  fondness. 

Johnson. 
9  To  bend  the  fatal  instruments  of  war 
Against  his  brother,  and  his  lawful  king?]     Thus  the   folio. 
The  old  play  thus  : 

"  To  lift  his  sword  aQ-ainst  his  brother's  life."     Malone. 
'  — Jephtha's,  &c.]     See  the  book  of  Judges,  xi.  dO. 

Steevens, 


sen.  KING  HENRY  VI.  519 

*  And,  Richard,  do  not  frown  upon  my  faults, 

•  For  I  will  henceforth  be  no  more  unconstant. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Now  welcome  more,  and  ten  times 

more  belov'd, 
Than  if  thou  never  hadst  deserv'd  our  hate. 

*  Glo.  Welcome,  good  Clarence ;  this  is  brother- 

like. 
War.  O  passing  traitor^,  perjur'd,  and  unjust ! 
K.  Edtv.  What,  Warwick,  wilt  thou  leave  the 

town,  and  fight  "i 
Or  shall  we  beat  the  stones  about  thine  ears  .^ 

*  IVar.  Alas,  I  am  not  coop'd  here  for  defence : 
I  will  away  towards  Barnet  presently, 

And  bid  thee  battle,  Edward,  if  thou  dar'st. 

K.  Edw.  Yes,  Warwick,  Edward  dares,  and  leads 
the  way : — 
Lords,  to  the  field  ;  Saint  George,  and  victory. 

[March.     E.veunt. 


SCENE  II. 

A  Field  of  Battle  near  Barnet. 

AlarmnSf  and  E.vcursions.     Enter  King  Edward^ 
bringing  in  Warwick  wounded. 

*  K.  Edw.  So,  lie  thou  there :  die  thou,  and  die 
our  fear ; 
*  For  Warwick  was  a  bug,  that  fear'd  us  alP. — 

^  — PASSING   traitor,]      Eminent,   egregious;    traitorous   be- 
yond the  common  track  of  treason.     Johnson. 
So,  in  Othello  : 

" 'twas  strange,  'twas  pas«H^  strange."   Steevens. 

3  — a  BUGj  that  fear'd  us  all.]     Bug  is  a  bugbear,  a  terrifick 
being.     Johnson, 
So,  in  Cymbeline : 

"  . are  become 

"  The  mortal  bugs  of  the  field." 


520  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

*  Now,  Montague,  sit  fast ;  1  seek  for  thee, 

*  That  Warwick's  bones  may  keep  thine  company. 

\_Emt. 
War.  Ah,  who  is  nigh  ?  come  to  me,  friend  or 
foe. 
And  tell  me,  who  is  victor,  York,  or  Warwick  ? 
Why  ask  I  that?  my  mangled  body  shows, 

*  My  blood,  my  want  of  strength,  my  sick  heart 

shows. 
That  I  must  yield  my  body  to  the  earth. 
And,  by  my  fall,  the  conquest  to  my  foe. 
Thus  yields  the  cedar  to  the  axe's  edge. 
Whose  arms  *  gave  shelter  to  the  princely  eagle. 
Under  whose  shade  the  ramping  lion  slept  ^ ; 
Whose  top-branch  overpeer'd  Jove's  spreading  tree, 

*  And  kept  low  shrubs  from  winter's  powerful  v/ind. 

*  These  eyes,  that  now  are  dimm'd  with  death's 

black  veil, 

*  Have  been  as  piercing  as  the  mid-day  sun, 

*  To  search  the  secret  treasons  of  the  world  : 
The  wrinkles  in  my  brows,  now  fili'd  with  blood, 

Again,  in  Stephen  Gosson's  Schoole  of  Abuse,  1579:   "  These 
hus:s  are  fitter  to  /^«r  babes  than  to  move  men."     Steevens. 
To  fear  in  old  language  frequently  signifies,  to  terrify. 

M  ALONE. 

So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

"  I  tell  thee,  lady,  this  aspect  of  mine 
"  Hath /earV/ the  valiant."     Steevens. 
4  Thus  yields  the  cedar  to  the  axe's  edge. 
Whose  arms,  &c.]     It  were  better  to  read — 
"  Thus  to  the  axe's  edge  the  cedar  yields, 
"  Whose  arms,"  &c. 
Othenvise  "  Whose  arms"  will  refer  to  the  axe  instead  of  the 
cedar.     Steeveks. 

s  Thus  yields  the  cedar  to  the  axe's  edge. 
Whose  arms  gave  shelter  to  the  princely  eagle. 
Under  whose  shade  the  ramping  lion  slept,  &c.]  It  has  been 
observed  to  me,  that  the  31st  chapter  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel  .sug- 
gested these  images  to  Shakspeare.  "  All  the  fowls  of  heaven 
made  their  nest  in  his  boughs,  and  under  his  branches  did  all  the 
beasts  of  the  field  bring  forth  their  young."     Steevens. 


sc.  II.  KING  HENRY  VI.  621 

Were  liken'd  oft  to  kingly  sepulchres  ; 

For  who  liv'd  king,  but  I  could  dig  his  grave  ? 

And  who  durst  smile,  when  Warwick  bent  his  brow  ? 

Lo,  now  my  glory  smear'd  in  dust  and  blood  ! 

My  parks  ^,  my  walks,  my  manors  that  I  had. 

Even  now  forsake  me  ;  and,  of  all  my  lands, 

Is  nothing  left  me,  but  my  body's  length  ^ ! 

Why,  what  is  pomp^  rule,  reign,  but  earth  and 

dust  ? 
And,  live  we  how  we  can,  yet  die  we  must. 

Etiter  Oxford  and  Somerset. 

*  SoM.  Ah,  Warwick,  Warwick^!  wert  thou  as 
we  are. 


^  My  parks,  &c,] 

Cedes  coemptis  saltibus,  et  domo, 
Villaque.     Hor. 
This  mention  oi\\\s  parks  and  manors  diminishes  the  pathetick 
effect  of  the  foregoing  lines.     Johnson. 

7  — and,  of  all  my  lands, 

Is  nothing  left  me,  but  my  body's  length  !] 
— —  Mors  sola  fatetur 
Quantula  sint  hominum  corpuscula.     Juv. 
Camden  mentions  in  his  Remains,   that  Constantine,   in  order 
to  dissuade  a  person  from  covetousness,  drew  out  with   his  lance 
the  length  and  breadth  of  a  man's  grave,  adding,  "  This  is  all 
thou  shalt  have  when  thou  art  dead,   if  thou  canst   happily  get  so 
much."     Malone. 

8  —  what  is  pomp,  &c.]  This  and  the  following  line  make 
no  part  of  this  speech  in  the  old  play  ;  but  were  transposed  by 
Shakspeare  from  a  subsequent  speech,  addressed  by  Warwick  to 
Somerset.     Malone. 

9  Ah,  Warwick,  Warwick,  &c.]  These  two  speeches  stand 
thus  in  the  quartos  : 

"  Oxf.  Ah,  Wai-wick,  Warwick !  cheer  up  thyself  and  live ; 
"  For  yet  there's  hope  enough  to  win  the  day. 
"  Our  warlike  queen  with  troops  is  come  from  France, 
"  And  at  Southampton  landed  hath  her  train  ; 
"  And,  might'st  thou  live,  then  would  we  never  fly. 

"  War.  Why,  then  I  would  not  fly,  nor  have  I  now ; 
*'  But  Hercules  himself  must  yield  to  odds: 
"  For  many  wounds  receiv'd,  and  many  more  repaid, 


522  THIRD  PART  OF  yiCT  v. 

*  We  might  recover  all  our  loss  again  ! 

*  The  queen  from  France  hath  brought  a  puissant 

power ; 

*  Even  now  we  heard  the  news :  Ah,  could'st  thou  fly! 

*  War.  Why,  then  I  would  not  fly. — Ah,  Mon- 

tague, 

*  If  thou  be  there,  sweet  brother,  take  my  hand, 

*  And  with  thy  lips  keep  in  my  soul  awhile ! 

*  Thou  lov  St  me  not ;  for,  brother,  if  thou  didst, 

*  Thy  tears  would  wash  this  cold  congealed  blood, 

*  That  glues  my  lips,  and  will  not  let  me  speak. 

*  Come  quickly,  Moiitague,  or  I  am  dead. 

*  SoM.    Ah,  Warwick,  Montague  hath  breath'd 

his  last ; 

*  And  to  the  latest  gasp,  cried  out  for  Warwick, 

*  And  said — Commend  me  to  my  valiant  brother. 

*  And  more  he  would  have  said ;  and  more  he  spoke, 

*  Which  sounded  like  a  cannon  in  a  vault ', 


"  Hath  robb'd  my  strong-knit  sinews  of  their  strength, 
"  And  spite  of  spites  needs  must  I  yield  to  death," 

Steevens. 
One  of  these  lines,  "  But  Hercvdes,"  &c.  Shakspeare  has 
transposed  and  inserted  in  the  Messenger's  account  of  the  death 
of  the  Duke  of  York.  See  p.  4-05.  Not  being  aware  of  this, 
I  had  inadvertently  marked  that  line  as  our  author's,  which  I  ought 
not  to  have  done.  The  three  following  lines  have  already  been 
spoken  by  Warwick  in  a  former  scene  (seep.  425,)  and  therefore 
were  here  properly  rejected  by  Shakspeare.     Malone. 

*  Which  sounded  like  a  cantnon  in  a  vault,]  The  old  quarto 
reads  clamour,  which  is  undoubtedly  right,  i.  e.  a  clamour  of 
tongues,  which,  as  he  says,  could  not  be  distinguished.  This  was 
a  pertinent  similitude  :  the  other  absurd,  and  neither  agrees  with 
what  is  predicated  of  it,  nor  with  what  it  is  intended  to  illustrate. 

Warburton. 
"  Which  sounded  like  a  cannon  in  a  vault, 
"  That  might  not  be  distinguish'd  ;]  That  is,  like  the  noise  of  a 
cannon  in  a  vault,  ■which,  &c.  Shakspeare's  alteration  here  is  per- 
haps not  so  judicious  as  many  others  that  he  has  made.  In  the 
old  play,  instead  of  cannon,  we  have  clamour,  and  the  speech 
stands  thus : 

"  Thy  brother  Montague  hath  breath'd  his  last, 

6 


sc.  jf.  KING  HENRY  VI.  523 

*  That  might  not  be  distinguish'd :  but,  at  last, 

*  I  well  might  hear  deliver'd  with  a  groan, — 

*  O,  farewell  Warwick  ! 

If'^R.  Sweet  rest  to  his  soul ! — 

Fly,  lords,  and  save  yourselves :  for  Warwick  bids 
You  all  farewell,  to  meet  again  in  heaven  '\    [Dies. 
OxF.  Away,  away^  to  meet  the  queen's  great 
power ! 

\_E.veimty  bearing  offlfARjricKs  Body. 

"  And  at  the  pangs  of  death  I  heard  him  cry, 
"  And  say,  Commend  me  to  my  valiant  brother ; 
"  And  more  he  would  have  said,  and  more  he  said, 
"  Which  sounded  like  a  clamour  in  a  vault, 
"  That  could  not  be  distinguish'd  for  the  sound  ; 
"  And  so  the  valiant  Montague  gave  up  the  ghost." 

Malone. 
The  indistinct  gabble  of  undertakers,  while  they  adjust  a  coffin 
in  a  family  vault,  will  abundantly  illustrate  the  preceding  simile. 
Such  a  peculiar  hubbub  of  inarticulate  sounds,   might  have  at- 
tracted our  author's  notice  :  it  has  too  often  forced  itself  on  mine. 

Steevens, 
2 — to  meet  AGAIN  in  heaven.]     I  have  supplied  the  word — 
again,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  by  the  advice  of  Mr.  Ritson,  and  with 
countenance  from  the  following  line  in  King  Richard  III. : 

"  Farewell,  until  we  meet  again  in  heaven."    Steevens, 
3  Away,  away,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  line,  the  quartos  have  the 
following  : 

"  Come,  noble  Somerset,  let's  take  our  horse, 
"  And  cause  retreat  be  sounded  through  the  camp  ; 
"  That  all  our  friends  remaining  yet  alive 
"  May  be  forewarn'd,  and  save  themselves  by  flight. 
"  That  done,  with  them  we'll  post  unto  the  queen, 
"  And  once  more  try  our  fortune  in  the  field."    Steevens. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  here  an  observation  that  has  already 
been  more  than  once  made.     I  shall  therefore  only  refer  to  former 
notes,  and  the  Dissertation  at  the  end  of  this  play.     Malone. 


524  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v, 

SCENE  III. 

Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Flourish.     Enter  King  Edward  in  triumph  ;  with 
Clarence,  Gloster,  and  the  rest. 

*  K.  Edtf.  Thus  far  our  fortune  keeps  an  upward 

course, 

*  And  we  are  grac'd  with  wreaths  of  victory  *. 

'  But,  in  the  midst  of  this  bright-shining  day, 

*  I  spy  a  black,  suspicious,  threat'ning  cloud, 

*  That  will  encounter  with  our  glorious  sun, 

*  Ere  he  attain  his  easeful  western  bed  : 

*  I  mean,  my  lords, — those  powers  \  that  the  queen 

*  Hath  rais'd  in  Gallia,  have  arriv'd  our  coast  ^, 

*  And,  as  we  hear,  march  on  to  fight  with  us. 

*  Clar.  a  little  gale  will  soon  disperse  that  cloud, 

*  And  blow  it  to  the  source  from  whence  it  came  : 

*  Thy  very  beams  will  dry  those  vapours  up  ; 

4  Thus  far  our  fortune  keeps  an  upward  course, 

And  we  are  grac'd  with  wreaths  of  victory.]     Thus  the  folio. 
The  quartos  thus  : 

*'  Thus  still  our  fortune  gives  us  victory, 

"  And  girts  our  temples  with  triumphant  joys. 

"  The  big-bon'd  traitor  Warwick  hath  breath'd  his  last, 

"  And  heaven  this  day  hath  smil'd  upon  us  all." 

Steevens. 

5  I  mean,  my  lords, — those  powers,  &c.]  Thus  the  folio.     The 
old  play  thus : 

"  I  meane  those  powers  which  the  queen  hath  got  in  France, 
"  Are  landed,  and  meane  once  more  to  menace  us." 

Malone. 

*  —  have  arriv'd  our  coast,]     So,  in  Coriolanus  : 

"  i ■  and  now  arrivins. 

"  A  place  of  potency  — ." 
Again,  in  Julius  Csesar  : 

"  But  ere  we  could  arrive  the  point  propos'd  — ." 
Milton  uses  the  same  structure.  Paradise  Lost,  b.  ii.  : 

*' ■  ere  he  arrive 

"  The  happy  isle."     Steevens. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  525 

*  For  every  cloud  engenders  not  a  storm. 

*  Glo.  The  queen  is  valu'd  thirty  thousand  strong, 
'  And  Somerset,  with  Oxford,  fled  to  her ; 

*  If  she  have  time  to  breathe,  be  well  assur'd, 
Her  faction  will  be  full  as  strong  as  ours. 

K.  Edw.  We  are  advertised  by  our  loving  friends. 
That  they  do  hold  their  course  toward  Tewksbury ; 
'  We  having  now  the  best  at  Barnet  field, 

*  Will  thither  straight.  For  willingness  rids  way  ; 

*  And,  as  we  march,  our  strength  will  be  augmented 
In  every  county  as  we  go  along. — 

Strike  up  the  drum ;  cry — Courage  !  and  away  ^. 

{Jhlveunt. 

SCENE  IV. 

Plains  near  Tewksbury. 

March.     Enter  Queen  Margaret,  Prince  Edtfard, 
Somerset,  Oxford,  a  fid  Soldiers. 

*  Q.  Mar.  Great  lords  ^,  wise  men  ne'er  sit  and 

wail  their  loss, 

'  Strike  up  the  drum  ;  cry — Courage  !  and  away.]     Thus  the 
folio.     The  quartos  have  the  following  couplet : 
"  Come,  let's  go  ; 

"  For  if  we  slack  this  faire  bright  summer's  day, 
"  Sharp  winter's  showers  will  mar  our  hope  for  haie." 

Something  like  this  has  occurred  in  p.  512.     Steevens. 

^  Great  lords,  &c.]     This  speech  in  the  old  play  stands  thus  : 
"  Queen.  Welcome  to  England,  my  loving  friends  of 
France, 
"  And  welcome,  Somerset  and  Oxford  too. 
'•'  Once  more  have  we  spread  our  sails  abroad  ; 
"  And  though  our  tackling  be  almost  consumde, 
"  And  Warwick  as  our  maine-mast  overthrowne, 
"  Yet,  warlike  lordes,  raise  you  that  sturdie  post 
"  That  bears  the  sailes  to  bring  us  unto  rest. 
"  And  Ned  and  I,  as  willing  pilots  should, 
"  For  once,  with  careful  mindes,  guide  on  the  sterne, 
"  To  beare  us  through  that  dangerous  gulfe, 
"  That  heretofore  hath  swallowed  up  our  friends." 


526-  THIRD  PART  OF  act  j: 

*  But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 

*  What  though  the  mast  be  now  blown  over-board, 

*  The  cable  broke,  the  holding  anchor  lost, 

*  And  half  our  sailors  swallow'd  in  the  flood  ? 

*  Yet  lives  our  pilot  still :  1st  meet,  that  he 

'  Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad, 

*  With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea, 

*  And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too 

much  ^ ; 

*  Whiles,  in  his  moan,  the  ship  splits  on  the  rock, 

*  Which  industry  and  courage  might  have  sav'd  ? 

*  Ah,  what  a  shame  \  ah,  what  a  fault  were  this  ! 

*  Say,  Warwick  was  our  anchor ;  What  of  that  ? 

*  And  Montague  our  top-mast ;  What  of  him  ? 

*  Our  slaughter'd  friends  the  tackles ;  What  of  these  ? 

There  is  perhaps  no  speech  that  proves  more  decisively  than  the 
above,  that  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses 
of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The  True  Tragedie  of  the  Duke 
of  Yorke,  &c.  printed  in  1600,  were  the  production  of  some  writer 
who  preceded  Shakspeare  ;  and  that  what  are  now  called  The 
Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI,  were  only  a  revisal  and 
amplijtcation  of  those  pieces. 

Here  we  have  a  thought  which  in  the  original  play  is  expressed 
in  eleven  lines,  expanded  by  our  author  into  thirty-seven  lines. 

Malone. 
9  With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea. 
And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much  ;]     See 
note  on  As  You  Like  It,  vol.  vi.  p.  383,  n.  1.     Reed. 
So,  in  our  author's  Lover's  Complaint  : 

"  Upon  whose  weeping  margent  she  was  set, 
"  Like  usury,  applij'mg  wet  to  wet." 
Again,  in  As  You  Like  It : 

" Thou  mak'st  a  testament 

"  As  worldings  do,  giving  the  sum  of  more 
"  To  that  which  hath  too  miichS' 
Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  With  tears  augmenting  the  fresh  morning  dew." 
So  also,  Spenser,  in  his  Shepherd's  Calendar,  1579: 
"  Thou,  plenteous  spring,  hast  lull'd  me  oft  asleep, 
"  Whose  streames  my  trickling  tears  did  oft  augment." 
Of  this  thought,  which  we  see  Shakspeare  has  sooften  expressed, 
there  is  no  trace  in  the  old  play.     See  note  8.     Malone. 


sc.  IF.  KING  HENRY  VI.  527 

*  Why,  is  not  Oxford  here  another  anchor  ? 

*  And  Somerset  another  goodly  mast  ? 

*  The  friends  of  France  our  shrouds  and  tacklings  ? 

*  And,  though  unskilful,  why  not  Ned  and  I 

*  For  once  allow'd  the  skilful  pilot's  charge  ? 

*  We  will  not  from  the  helm,  to  sit  and  weep  ; 

*  But  keep  our  course,  though  the  rough  wind  say — 

no, 

*  From  shelves  and  rocks  that  threaten  us  with 

wreck. 

*  As  good  to  chide  the  waves,  as  speak  them  fair. 

*  And  what  is  Edward,  but  a  ruthless  sea  ? 

*  What  Clarence,  but  a  quicksand  of  deceit  ? 

*  And  Richard,  but  a  ragged  fatal  rock  ? 

*  All  these  the  enemies  to  our  poor  bark. 

*  Say,  you  can  swim  ;  alas,  'tis  but  a  while  : 

*  Tread  on  the  sand  ;  why,  there  you  quickly  sink  : 

*  Bestride  the  rock  ;  the  tide  will  wash  you  off, 

*  Or  else  you  famish,  that's  a  threefold  death. 

*  This  speak  I,  lords,  to  let  you  understand, 

*  In  case  some  one  of  you  would  fly  from  us, 

*  That  there's  no  hop'd-for  mercy  with  the  brothers, 

*  More  than  with  ruthless  waves,  with  sands,  and 

rocks. 

*  Why,  courage,  then  !  what  cannot  be  avoided, 

*  'Twere  childish  weakness  to  lament,  or  fear. 

*  Prince.  Methinks,   a  woman  *   of  this  valiant 
spirit 

»  Methinks,  a  woman,  &c.]     In  this  speech  there  is  much  and 
important  variation  in  the  quarto  : 

"  Prince.  And  if  there  be  (as  God  forbid  there  should) 
"  'Mongst  us  a  timorous  or  fearful  man, 
"  Let  him  depart  before  the  battles  join  ; 
"  Lest  he  in  time  of  need  entice  another, 
"  And  so  withdraw  the  soldiers'  hearts  from  us. 
"  I  will  not  stand  aloof,  and  bid  you  fight, 
"  But  with  my  sword  press  in  the  thickest  throngs, 
"  And  single  Edward  from  his  strongest  guard, 


528  THIRD  PART  OF  ^ct  r. 

*  Should,  if  a  coward  heard  her  speak  these  words, 

*  Infuse  his  breast  with  magnanimity, 

*  And  make  him,  naked,  foil  a  man  at  arms. 

*  I  speak  not  this,  as  doubting  any  here  : 

*  For,  did  I  but  suspect  a  fearful  man, 

'  He  should  have  leave  to  go  away  betimes  ; 

*  Lest,  in  our  need,  he  might  infect  another, 

*  And  make  him  of  like  spirit  to  himself. 

*  If  any  such  be  here,  as  God  forbid  ! 

*  Let  him  depart,  before  we  need  his  help. 

*  OxF.  Women  and  children  of  so  high  a  courage  ! 
And  warriors  faint!  wliy,  'twere  perpetual  shame. — 

*  O,  brave  young  prince  !  thy  famous  grandfather 
Doth  live  again  in  thee  ;  Long  may'st  thou  live. 
To  bear  his  image,  and  renew  his  glories ! 

'  So3f.  And  he,  that  will  not  fight  for  such  a  hope, 
'  Go  home  to  bed,  and,  like  the  owl  by  day,  - 

*  If  he  arise,  be  mock'd  and  wonder'd  at  ^. 

*  Q.  M.i/R.    Thanks,    gentle  Somerset ; — sweet 

Oxford,  thanks. 

*  Prince.  And  take  his  thanks,  that  yet  hath 

nothing  else. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

*  Mess.  Prepare  you,  lords  ^,   for  Edward  is  at 

hand, 

*'  And  hand  to  hand  enforce  him  for  to  yield, 

"  Or  leave  my  body,  as  witness  of  my  thoughts." 

Steevens. 
Our  author  has  availed  himself  of  these  lines  in  former  scenes 
of  these  plays,     Malone. 

^  If  he  arise,  be  mock'd  and  wonder'd  at.]     So  the  folio.     The 
old  play  thus : 

"  Be  hiss'd  and  wonder'd  at,  if  he  arise."     Malone. 
3  Prepare  you,  lords,  &c.]     In  the  old  play  these  speeches  stand 
thus : 

"  Mes.  My  lordes,  duke  Edward  with  a  mightie  power 
"  Is  marching  hitherward  to  fight  with  you. 


sc.  ir.  KING  HENRY  VI.  529 

*  Ready  to  fight ;  therefore  be  resoUite. 

*  OxF.  I  thought  no  less  :  it  is  his  policy, 

*  To  haste  thus  fast,  to  find  us  unprovided. 

So3i,  But  he*s  deceiv'd,  we  are  in  readiness. 

Q.  M^R.  This  cheers  my  heart,  to  see  your  for- 
wardness. 

OxF.  Here  pitch  our  battle,  hence  we  will  not 
budge. 

March.     Enter,   at   a   distance.    King   Ebtvart), 
Clarence,  Gloster,  and  Forces. 

*  K.  Edif.  Brave  followers  ^  yonder  stands  the 

thorny  wood, 

*  Which,    by  the    heavens'  assistance,   and    your 

strength, 

*  Must  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  signal  to  the  fight,  and  to  it,  lords. 

Q.  Mar.  Lords,  knights,  and  gentlemen,  what 
I  should  say, 

*  My  tears  gainsay  ^ ;  for  every  word  I  speak, 

*  Ye  see,  I  drink  the  water  of  mine  eyes  ^ 

"  Oxf.  I  thought  it  was  his  policy  to  take  us  unprovided, 
"  But  here  will  we  stand,  and  fight  it  to  the  death." 

Malone. 

4  K.  Ediv.  Brave  followers;,  &c.]  This  scene  is  ill-contrived, 
in  which  the  King  and  Queen  appear  at  once  on  the  stage  at  the 
head  of  opposite  armies.  It  had  been  easy  to  make  one  retire  be- 
fore the  other  entered.     Johnson. 

5  My  tears  gainsay  ;]  To  gainsay  is  to  unsay,  to  deny,  to  con- 
tradict.    So,  in  A  Knack  to  Know  a  Knave,  1594  : 

"  — ^— .  seeing  my  father  grants, 
"  I  will  not  gainsay."     Steevens. 
^  Ye  see,  I  drink  the  water  of  mine  eyes.]  This  phrase  is  scrip- 
tural :  "  Thou  feedest  them  with  the  bread  of  tears,  and  givest 
them  tears  to  drink."     Psalm  Ixxxv.  5.     Steevens. 
So,  in  our  author's  Venus  and  Adonis  : 

"  Dost  thou  drink  tears,  that  thou  provok'st  such  weeping  ? 
VOL.  XVIIl.  ^  M 


530  THIRD  PART  OF  act  V. 

*  Therefore,  no  more  but  this  : — Henry,  your  sove- 

reign \ 

*  Is  prisoner  to  the  foe  ;  his  state  usurp'd, 

'  His  realm  a  slaughterhouse,  his  subjects  slain, 

*  His  statutes  cancell'd,  and  his  treasure  spent ; 

*  And  yonder  is  the  wolf,  that  makes  this  spoil. 

*  You  fight  injustice :  then,  in  God's  name,  lords, 

*  Be  valiant,  and  give  signal  to  the  fight. 

l^Exeimt  both  Armies. 


SCENE  V. 

Another  Part  of  the  Same. 

Alarums:  Exxm^sions :  and  afterwards  a  Retreat. 
Then  Enter  King  Edtfard,  Clarence,  Glos- 
TER,  and  Forces ;  with  Queen  Margaret,  Oxford, 
and  Somerset,  Pinso7iers. 

*  K.  Edit.  Now,  here   a  period  of  tumultuous 
broils. 
Away  with  Oxford  to  Hammes'  castle^  straight : 


These  passages  were  probably  recollected  by  Rowe,  when  he 
wrote  in  his  Jane  Shore  : 

*'  Feed  on  my  sighs^and  drink  my  falling  tears." 
So  also,  Pope,  in  the  Epistle  from  Eloisa  to  Abelard  : 

"  And  drink  the  falling  tears  each  other  shed." 
The  folio  has — eye :  but  I  imagine  it  was  rather  an  error  in  the 
transcriber  than  an  alteration  by  Shakspeare.     The  old  play  reads 
— eyes.  .  Malone. 

'  —  Henry,  your  sovereign,  &c.]     Instead  of  this  and  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  the  original  play  has  these  : 

"  Henr)^  your  king  is  prisoner  in  the  Tower  ; 
"  His  land  and  all  our  friends  are  quite  distrest, 
"  And  yonder  stands  the  wolfe  that  makes  all  this, 
"  Then  in  God's  name,  lords,  together  crie  Saint  George." 

Maloxe. 
*  —  to  Harames'castle  — ]     A  castle  in  Picardy,  where  Oxford 
was  confined  for  many  years.     Malone.        * 


sc.  V.  KING  HENRY  VI.  531 

For  Sorxierset^,  off  with  his  guilty  head. 

*  Go,  bear  them  hence  ;  I  will  not  hear  them  speak. 

OxF.  For   my   part,    I'll   not  trouble  thee   with 
words. 

*  SoM.    Nor  I,    but  stoop   with  patience  to  my 

fortune. 

[Exeunt  Oxford  and  Somerset,  guarded. 

*  Q.  Mar.  So  part  we  sadly  in  this  troublous 

world, 

*  To  meet  with  joy  in  sweet  Jerusalem. 

*  K.  Eojr.  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  Soldiers,  with  Prince  Edtfard. 

*=  K.  Edtf.  Bring  forth  the  gallant,  let  us  hear 
him  speak : 

*  What !  can  so  young  a  thorn  begin  to  prick  ^  ? 

*  Edward,  what  satisfaction  canst  thou  make, 

*  For  bearing  arms,  for  stirring  up  my  subjects, 

*  And  all  the  trouble  thou  hast  turn'd  me  to  -  ? 

9  For  Somerset,]  Edmond  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset,  the 
second  son  of  Edmond  Duke  of  Somerset,  who  was  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Saint  Albans.     Malone. 

'  What!  can  so  young  a  thorn  begin  to  pkick  ?]  This 
is  a  proverbial  observation,  which  I  find  verified  in  "  A  Preaty 
Interlude,  called  Nice  Wanton  " — 

"  Early  sharpe  that  wyll  be  thorne, 
"  Soone  yll  that  wyll  be  naught,"  &c.     Steevens. 
^  And  all  the  trouble  thou  hast  turn'd  me  to?]     This 
line  was  one  of  Shakspeare's  additions  to  the  original  play.     We 
have  almost  the  same  words  in  The  Tempest : 

" O,  my  heart  bleeds, 

"  To  think  of  the  teen  [i.  e.  trouble]  that  I  have  turrCdyou  to.*' 
In  the  old  play  Prince  Edward  is  not  brought  forth  as  here,  but 
enters  with  his  mother ;  and  after  Oxford  and  Somerset  are  car- 
ried off,  he  is  thus  addressed  by  the  King : 

"  Now,  Edward,  what  satisfaction  canst  thou  make, 
"  For  stirring  uj)  my  subjects  to  rebellion  ?  "     Malone. 

2  m2 


532  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

Prince.  Speak  like  a  subject,  proud  ambitious 
York ! 
Suppose,  that  I  am  now  my  father's  mouth  ; 
Resign  thy  chair,  and,  where  I  stand,  kneel  thou, 
Whilst  I  propose  the  self-same  words  to  thee. 
Which,  traitor,  thou  wouldst  have  me  answer  to. 
Q.  Mjr.  Ah,  that  thy  father  had  been  so  resolv'd! 
*  Glo.  That  you  might  still  have  worn  the  petti- 
coat, 
And  ne'er  have  stol'n  the  breech  from  Lancaster. 
Prince.  Let  yEsop'^  fable  in  a  winter's  night; 
His  currish  riddles  sort  not  with  this  place. 

Glo.  By  heaven,  brat.   Til  plague  you  for  that 

word. 
Q.  Mar.  Ay,  thou  wast  born  to  be  a  plague  to 

men. 
Glo.  For  God's  sake,  take  away  this  captive  scold. 
Prince.  Nay,  take  away  this  scolding  crook-back 

rather. 
'  K.  Edw.  Peace,  wilful  boy,  or  I  will  charm  your 
tongue  *. 

3  Let  iEsop,  &c.]  The  Prince  calls  Richard,  for  his  crook- 
edness, ^sop ;  and  the  poet,  following  nature,  makes  Richard 
highly  incensed  at  the  reproach.     Johnson. 

4  — CHARM  your  tongue.]  The  quarto  reads — tame  your 
tongue. 

The  former  is  best.     So,  in  Sir  A.  Gorges'  translation  of  Lucan, 

1614: 

"  In  hope  that  thy  victorious  arme 
"  Their  dunghill  crowing  so  will  chnrme."     Steevens, 
This  is  the  right  reading.     So,  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  Mercury 
says  to  Cupid : 

"  How  now,  my  dancing  braggart !  charm  your  tongue." 
And,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Lucentio  says: 

"  But  I  will  charm  him  first  to  keep  his  tongue." 

M.  Mason. 
The  expression  which  our  author  substituted,  is  one  that  he  has 
often  used.     See  vol.  xviii.  p.  286,  n.  1.     The  meaning  is,  I  will 
compel  you  to  be  as  silent,  as  you  would  be,  if  you  were  charm'd, 
if  you  were  deprived  of  speech  by  the  power  of  inchantment. 

Malone. 


sc.  F.  KING  HENRY  VI.  d33 

Clar.  Untutor'd  lad,  thou  art  too  malapert. 

Prince.  I  know  my  duty,  you  are  all  undutiful : 
Lascivious  Edward, — and  thou  perjur'd  George, — 
And  thou  misshapen  Dick, — I  tell  ye  all, 
I  am  your  better,  traitors  as  ye  are  ; — 
*  And  thou  usurp'st  my  fathers  right  and  mine. 

K.  Edtf.  Take  that,  the  likeness  of  this  railer 
here  ^.  [Stabs  him, 

*  Glo.  Sprawl'st  thou  ?   take  that,   to  end  thy 

agony.  [Glo.  stabs  him. 

*  Clar.  And  there's  for  twitting  me  with  per- 

jury. [Clar.  stabs  him. 

Q.  Mar.  O,  kill  me  too  ! 

Glo.  Marry,  and  shall.  [Offers  to  kill  her. 

'  K.  Enir.  Hold,  Richard,  hold,  for  we  have  done 

too  much. 
Glo.  Why  should  she  live,  to  fill  the  world  with 

words  ^  ? 


s  —  THK  likeness  of  this  railer  here,  &c.]  That  thou  resem- 
blest  thy  railing  mother.     Johnson. 

That  is,  "  thou  who  art  the  likeness,'"  &c.  Mr.  Rowe  and  the 
other  modern  editors  read — tlioii  likeness,  and  so  we  should  now 
v/rite  ;  but  the  other  was  the  phraseology  of  Shakspeare's  time. 
So,  in  Julius  Csesar  : 

"  The  last  of  all  the  Romans,  fare  thee  well." 

In  that  passage,  as  in  the  present,  Mr.  Rowe  substituted  thou 
for  the,  though  Shakspeare  has  employed  the  very  words  he  found 
in  North's  translation  of  Plutarch.     Malone. 

The  old  copies  describe  Edward  as  striking  the  first  blow,  and 
Gloster  the  next ;  and,  I  believe,  rightly,  for  history  informs  us 
that  Edward  smote  the  Prince  with  his  gauntlet,  on  which  the 
rest  dispatchd  him.  The  words  "  sprawl'st  thou  ?  "  seem  evi- 
dently to  belong  to  Richard  ;  and  I  have  therefore  continued  them 
to  him  on  the  authority  of  ancient  editions,  in  preference  to  the 
allotment  of  modern  innovation.     See  edit.  1765,  vol.  v.  p.  217. 

Steevens. 

6  — vvlth  WORDS  ?]  i.  e.  dispute,  contention.  So,  in  a  for- 
mer of  these  plays : 

"  Some  locrf^s  there  grew  'twixt  Somerset  and  me." 

Steevens. 


634  THIRD  PART  OF  .^ct  r. 

*  K,  Edw.  What !  doth  she  swoon  ?  use  means 

for  her  recovery. 
Glo.  Clarence,  excuse  me  to  the  king,  my  bro- 
ther ; 

*  I'll  hence  to  London  on  a  serious  matter  : 

*  Ere  ye  come  there,  be  sure  to  hear  some  news. 

Clar.  What  ?  what  ? 

*  Glo.  The  Tower,  the  Tower  ^  !  {Exit. 

*  Q.  Mar.  O,  Ned,    sweet   Ned  !  speak   to   thy 
1  mother,  boy  ! 

*  Canst  thou  not  speak  ! — O  traitors  !  murderers  ! — 
They,  that  stabb'd  Ceesar,  shed  no  blood  at  all. 
Did  not  offend,  nor  were  not  worthy  blame, 

*  If  this  foul  deed  were  by,  to  equal  it : 

*  He  was  a  man ;  this,  in  respect,  a  child  ; 
And  men  ne'er  spend  their  fury  on  a  child. 

*  What's  worse  than  murderer,  that  I  may  name  it  "^ 

*  No,  no  ;  my  heart  will  burst,  an  if  I  speak  : — 

*  And  I  will  speak,  that  so  my  heart  may  burst. — 

*  Butchers  and  villains,  bloody  cannibals  ! 

*  How  sweet  a  plant  have  you  untimely  cropp'd  ! 

*  You  have  no  children,  butchers  ^  1  if  you  had, 

7  The  Tower,  the  Tower!]  The  quarto  adds — "  I'll  root  them 
out ;  "  but,  perhaps,  injudiciously  :  and  yet,  without  these  words 
the  metre  is  imperfect.     Steevens. 

®  You  have  no  children,  butchers !]  The  same  sentiirent  is 
repeated  by  Macduff,  in  the  tragedy  of  Macbeth  ;  and  this  passage 
may  serve  as  a  comment  on  that.     Blackstone. 

The  original  play  reads  : 

"  You  have  no  children,  devils  ;  if  you  had, 

"  The  thought  of  them  would  then  have  slopt  your  rage." 

This  thought  occurring  also  (as  Sir  William  Blackstone  has 
observed,)  in  Macbeth,  "  He  has  no  children,"  may  perhaps 
be  urged  as  a  proof  of  Shakspeare's  being  the  author  of  the  first 
draught,  as  well  as  of  the  alterations  and  additions  to  it.  But 
how  many  thoughts  and  even  expressions  has  he  borrowed  from 
preceding  writers  ?  Having  (as  I  suppose)  greatly  enlarged,  and 
almost  new-written,  this  and  the  ])receding  play,  the  thoughts 
they  contain,  whether  found  in  the  first  copy,  or  his  amplification 
of  it,  were  as  likely  to  recur  in  a  future  piece,  as  any  of  those 


sc.  V,  KING  HENRY  VI.  535 

*  The  thought  of  them  would  have  stirr'd  up  re- 

morse : 

*  But,  if  you  ever  chance  to  have  a  child. 
Look  in  his  youth  to  have  him  so  cut  off, 

*  As,  deathsmen  !  you  have  rid  this  sweet  young 

prince  ® ! 
K.  Edtf.  Away  with  her ;   go,  bear  her  hence 

perforce, 

Q.  Mar.  Nay,  never  bear  me  hence,  despatch  me 

here ; 

Here  sheath  thy  sword,  I'll  pardon  thee  my  death : 

What !  wilt  thou  not  ? — then,  Clarence,  do  it  thou. 

Clar.  By  heaven,  I  will  not  do  thee  so  much  ease. 

Q.  Mar.  Good  Clarence,  do ;  sweet  Clarence,  do 

thou  do  it  ^ 
Clar.  Didst  thou  not  hear  me  swear,  I  would 

not  do  it. 
Q.  Mar.  Ay,  but  thou  usest  to  forswear  thyself ; 
'Twas  sin  before^,  but  now  'tis  charity. 

*  What !    wilt  thou   not  ?    where   is    that    devil's 

butcher, 
Hard-favour'd  Richard  ^  .^   Richard,  where  art  thou  ? 


which  he  has  employed  in  one  originally  written  by  himself.     In 
his  original  plays  he  frequently  borrowed  from  himself.  Malone. 

9  — you  have  rid  this  sweet  young  prince.]  The  condition  of 
this  warlike  Queen  would  move  compassion,  could  it  be  for- 
gotten that  she  gave  York,  to  wipe  liis  eyes  in  his  captivity,  a 
handkerchief  stained  with  his  young  child's  blood.     Johnson. 

But  surely  it  does  move  our  compassion,  though  that  be  not 
forgotten.  When  we  see  any  of  our  fellow-creatures  involved 
in  deep  distress,  from  a  just  and  tender  cause  we  attend  only  to 
their  present  sufferings,  and  not  to  their  former  crimes, 

M.  Mason. 

I  — do  thou  do  it.]     The  old  play  reads — Mil  me  to.  Malone. 

*  'Twas  sin  before,]     She  alludes  to  the  desertion  of  Clarence. 

Johnson. 

3  — where  is  that  devil's  butcher, 
Hard-favour'd  Richard  ?]    Thus  all  the  editions.    But  devil's 
hulchcr,  in  others  terms,  I  think,   is  kill-devil:    rare  news   for 
the  free  thinkers,  if  there  were  any  grounds  for  depending  on  it. 


536  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

Thou  art  not  here  :  Murder  is  thy  alms-deed  ; 
Petitioners  for  blood  thou  ne'er  put'st  back. 

*  K.  Edw.  Away,  I  say ;  I  charge  ye,   bear  her 

hence. 
Q.  Mar.  So  come  to  you,   and  yours,   as  to  this 

prince  I  [^Exit,  led  out  forcibly. 

K.  Edtf.  Where's  Richard  gone  .^ 

*  Clar.  To  London,  all  in  post ;  and,  as  I  guess. 
To  make  a  bloody  supper  in  the  Tower. 

K.  Edw.  He's  sudden,  if  a  thing  comes  in  his 
head. 

*  Now  march  we  hence  :  discharge  the  common  sort 

*  With  pay  and  thanks,  and  let's  away  to  London, 

*  And  see  our  gentle  queen  how  well  she  fares  ; 

*  By  this,  I  hope,  she  hath  a  son  for  me.     \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  VL 

London.     A  Room  in  the  Tower. 

King  Henry  is  discovered  sitting  with  a  Book  in  his 
Hand,  the  Lieutenant  attending.    Enter  Gloster, 

Glo.  Good  day,  my  lord  !  What,  at  your  book  so 

hard  ? 
K.  Hen.  Ay,  my  good  lord  :  My  lord,  I  should 
say  rather ; 
'Tis  sin  to  flatter,  good  was  little  better  : 
Good  Gloster,  and  good  devil,  were  alike, 
*  And  both  preposterous  ;  therefore,  not  good  lord. 

But  the  poet  certainly  wrote — devil -hut  chcr  ;  and  the  first  part  of 
the  compound  is  to  be  taken  adjectively,  meaning  execrable,  in- 
fernal, devilish.     Theobald. 

"  Devil's  butcher,"  is  a  butcher  set  on  by  the  devil.  Either 
reading  may  serve  without  so  long  a  note.     Johnson. 

The  folio  adds,  at  the  end  of  this  line,  the  word — Richard.  But 
both  the  metre  and  the  old  play  show  that  it  was  an  accidental 
repetition  by  the  transcriber,  or  compositor.     Malonk. 


sc.  Fi.  KING  HENRY  VI.  537 

*  Glo.  Sirrah,  leave  us  to  ourselves:  we  must 

confer.  [^Ed'it  Lieutcucnit. 

*  K.  Hen.  So  flies  the  reckless  shepherd  from  the 

wolf: 

*  So  first  the  harmless  sheep  doth  yield  his  fleece, 

*  And  next  his  throat  unto  the  butcher's  knife. — 
What  scene  of  death  hath  Roscius  now  to  act  *  ? 

Glo.  Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind  ; 
The  thief  doth  fear  each  bush  an  officer. 

4  What  scene  of  death  hath  Roscius  now  to  act  ?]  Roscius 
was  certainly  put  for  Richard  by  some  simple  conceited  player  who 
had  heard  of  Roscius  and  of  Rome  ;  but  did  not  know  that  he  was 
an  actor  in  comedy,  not  in  tragedy.     Warburton. 

Shakspeare  had  occasion  to  compare  Richard  to  some  player 
about  to  represent  a  scene  of  murder,  and  took  the  first  or  only 
name  of  antiquity  that  occurred  to  him,  without  being  very  scru- 
pulous about  its  pro])riety. 

I  know  not,  however,  that  it  is  proved,  on  classical  authority, 
that  Roscius,  though  generally  a  comedian,  was  no  occasional 
actor  in  tragedy.  Nash,  in  Pierce  Penniless's  Supplication  to  the 
Devil,  J 592,  says  :  "  Not  Roscius  nor  /Esope,  those  admired  trn- 
gedians,  that  have  lived  ever  since  before  Christ  was  born,  could 
ever  performemore  in  action  than  famous  Ned  Allen." 

Again,  in  Acolastus  his  Afterwitte,  1600  : 

"  Through  thee  each  murthering  Roscius  is  appointed 
"  To  act  strange  scenes  of  death  on  God's  anointed." 

Again,  in  Certainc  Satyres,  1598: 

"  Was  penn'd  by  Roscio  the  tragedian."     Steevens. 

"  What  scene  of  death  hath  Roscius  now  to  act  ?]  So,  in  Aco- 
lastus his  Afterwitte,  a  poem,  1600; 

"  What  bloody  scene  hath  cruelty  to  act  ?" 

Dr.  Warburton  reads  Richard,  instead  of  Roscius,  because 
Roscius  was  a  comedian.  That  he  is  right  in  this  assertion,  is 
proved  beyond  a  doubt  by  a  passage  in  Quintilian,  cited  by  W.  R. 
[probably  Sir  Walter  Rawjinson]  in  The  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine, vol.  liv.  Part  II.  p.  886  :  "  Roscius  citatior,  ^Esopus  gravior 
fuit,  quod  ille  comcedias,  hie  tragosdias  egit."  Qnintil.  lib.  xi.  c.  iii. 
— But  it  is  not  in  Quintilian  or  in  any  other  ancient  writer  we  are 
to  look  in  order  to  ascertain  the  text  of  Shakspeare.  Roscius  was 
called  a  tragedian  by  our  author  s  contemporaries,  as  appears  from 
the  quotations  in  the  preceding  note  ;  and  this  was  sufficient  au- 
thority to  him,  or  rather  to  the  author  of  the  original  play,  for 
there  this  line  is  found.     Malone. 


538  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 


o 


*  K.  He^x.  The  bird,  that  hath  been  limed  in  a 

bush, 

*  With  trembling  wings  misdoubteth  every  bush  ^ : 
And  I,  the  hapless  male  ^  to  one  sweet  bird. 
Have  now  the  fatal  object  in  my  eye. 

Where  my  poor  young  was  lim'd,  was  caught,  and 
kill'd. 

*  Glo.  Why,  what  a  peevish  fool  ^  was  that  of 

Crete, 

*  That  taught  his  son  the  office  of  a  fowl  ? 

*  And  yet,  for  all  his  wings,  the  fool  was  drown'd  ^. 

'  K.  He.v.  I,  Daedalus ;  my  poor  boy,  Icarus  ; 
Thy  father,  Minos,  that  denied  our  course  ; 

*  The  sun,  that  sear'd  the  wings  of  my  sweet  boy, 

*  Thy  brother  Edward ;  and  thyself,  the  sea. 


5  — MISDOUBTETH  eveiy  bush  :]  To  misdoubt  is  to  suspect 
danger,  tojear.  So,  in  Humour  out  of  Breath,  a  comedy  bv  John 
Day,  1608  : 

"  Hip.  Doubt  and  misdoubt !  what  difference  is  there  here  ? 
"■  Oct.  Yes,  much:  when  men  misdoubt,  'tis  said  theyye^ar." 

Steevens. 
^  —  hapless  male — ]     The  word  male  is   here  used  in  a  very 
uncommon  sense,   not  for   the  male  of  the  female,  but  for  the 
male  parent  :  the  sweet  bird  is  evidently  his  son  Prince  Edward. 

M.  Mason. 
7  —  PEEVISH  fool — ]    As  peevishness  is  the  qualitij  of  children, 
peevish  seems  to  signify  childish,  and  by  consequence  silly.     Pee- 
vish is  explained  by  childish,  in  a  former  note  of  Dr.  Warburton. 

Johnson. 
Shakspeare  employs  the  word  peevish  in  the  same  sense  in 
Cymbeline,  where  the  reader  will  find  many  instances  of  this  use 
of  it.     Steevens. 

This  epithet,  which  Shakspeare  has  so  frequently  employed,  was 
one  of  his  additions  to  the  original  play. 

The  ordinary  signification  of  peevish   in  our  poet's  time  was 
Jholish.     See  Minsheu's  Diet.  1617,  in.  v.     Malone. 
^  —  the  office  of  a  fowl  ? 
And  yet,  for  all  his  wings,  the  fool  was  drown'd.]     The  old 
play  reads  : 

" the  office  of  a  bird  ? 

"  And  yet  for  all  that  the  \iOovfotd  was  drown'd." 

Malone. 


sc.  VI.  KING  HENRY  VI.  5:}9 

*  Whose  envious  gulf  did  swallow  up  his  life. 

*  Ah,  kill  me  with  thy  weapon,  not  with  words  ! 
'  My  breast  can  better  brook  thy  dagger's  point, 
Than  can  my  ears  that  tragick  history. — 

*  But  wherefore  dost  thou  come  ?  is't  for  my  life  ? 
*  Glo.  Think'st  thou,  I  am  an  executioner  ? 

K.  Hen.  A  persecutor,  I  am  sure,  thou  art ; 

*  If  murdering  innocents  be  executing, 

*  Why,  then  thou  art  an  executioner. 

Glq.  Thy  son  I  kill'd  for  his  presumption. 
K.  Hen.  Hadst  thou  been  kill'd,  when  first  thou 
didst  presume, 
Thou  hadst  not  liv'd  to  kill  a  son  of  mine. 

*  And  thus  I  prophecy, — that  many  a  thousand, 

*  Which  now  mistrust  no  parcel  of  my  fear  ^ ; 

'  And  many  an  old  man's  sigh,  and  many  a  widow's, 
'  And  many  an  orphan's  water-standing  eye, — 

*  Men  for  their  sons,  wives  for  their  husbands'  fate  \ 

*  And  orphans  for  their  parents'  timeless  death  ^, — 

*  Shall  rue  the  hour  that  ever  thou  wast  born. 
The  owl  shriek'd  at  thy  birth,  an  evil  sign  ; 

*  The  night-crow  cried,  aboding  luckless  time  ; 
Dogs  howl'd,  and  hideous   tempests  shook  down 

trees ; 
The  raven  rook'd  her  ^  on  the  chimney's  top, 

9  Which  now  mistrust  no  parcel  of  my  fear  ;]  Who  suspect  no 
part  of  what  my  fears  presage.     Johnson. 

'  Men  for  their  sons,  wives  for  their  husbands'  fate,]  The 
word— ^^e  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

Malone. 

^  And  orphans,  &c.]  The  word — and,  which  is  necessary  to 
the  metre,  and  is  wanting  in  the  first  folio,  was  supplied  by  the 
second.     Steevens 

3^  The  raven  eook'd  her — ]  To  rooJc,  or  rather  to  ruch,  is  a 
north-country  word,  signifying  to  squat  duimi,  or  lodge  on  any 
thing. 

So,  in  Chaucer's  Knight's  Tale,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  1310: 
"  What  is  mankind  more  unto  you  yhold, 
"  Than  is  the  shepe,  that  rouketh  in  the  fold  ?  " 

Again,  in  the  Nonnes  Preestes  Tale,  ibid.  v.  15,232  : 

6 


540  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 


i) 


And  chattering  pies  in  dismal  discords  sung. 
Thy  mother  felt  more  than  a  mother's  pain, 
And  yet  brought  forth  less  than  a  mother's  hope  ; 
'  To  wit, — an  indigest  *  deformed  lump, 
Not  like  the  fruit  of  such  a  goodly  tree. 
Teeth  hadst  thou  in  thy  head,  when  thou  wast  born. 
To  signify, — thou  cam'st  to  bite  the  world  : 
And,  if  the  rest  be  true  which  I  have  heard, 
'  Thou  cam'st  ^  — 

"  O  false  morderour,  ruclchig  in  thy  den. 
Again,  in  the   Preface  to   Stanyhurst's   translation   of  Virgil, 
1582: 

"  I  cannot  devine  upon  such  bookes  that  happlye  rotde  in  stu- 
dentes  mewes,"  &c. 

Again,  in  the  translation  of  the  fourth  book  : 
"  Also  on  the  turrets  the  skrich  howle,  &c. 

" doth  ruck,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  b.  vii.  ch.  xxxvii. : 

"  Have  lazy  wings,  be  ever  lean,  in  sullen  corners  ruck" 
Again,  in  Golding's  translation  of  the  6th  book  of  Ovid's  Meta- 
morphosis : 

"  The  furies  made  the  bridegrome's  bed,   and  on  the  house 

did  rucJie 
"  A  cursed  owle  the  messenger  of  ill  successe  and  lucke." 
Again,  in  the  1.5th  book  : 

"  He  ruckeih  downe  upon  the  same,  and  in  the  spices  dies." 

Steevens. 
4  —  an   INDIGEST — ]      The  folio  has — indigested.     But  the 
metre  and  the  old  play  show  that  it  was  a  misprint.     Shakspeare 
uses  the  word  indigest  in  King  John.     Malone. 

radis  indigestaque  moles.  Ovid.  Met.  i.  7.     Douce. 

■5  And,  if  the  rest  be  true  which  I  have  heard. 
Thou  cam'st — ]    Had  our  editors  had  but  a  grain  of  sagacity, 
or  true  diligence,  there  could  have  been  no  room  for  this  absurd 
break,  since  they  might  have  ventured  to  fill  it  up  with  certainty 
too.     The  old  quarto  would  have  led  them  part  of  the  way: 

"  Thou  cam'st  into  the  world ." 

And  that  the  verse  is  to  be  completed  in  the  manner  I  have 
given  it,  is  incontestable  ;  for  unless  we  suppose  King  Henry 
actually  reproaches  him  with  this  his  preposterous  birth,  how  can 
Richard  in  his  very  next  soliloquy  say  : 

"  Indeed,  'tis  true,  that  Henry  told  me  of; 

"  For  I  have  often  heard  my  mother  say, 

"  I  came  into  the  world  with  my  legs  forward," 


sc.  Fi.  KING  HENRY  VI.  541 

Glo.  I'll   hear  no  more ;— Die,  prophet,  in  thy 
speech  ;  [Stabs  Idm. 

.   For  this,  amongst  the  rest,  v/as  I  ordain'd. 

K.  Hen.  Ay,  and  for  much  more  slaughter  after 
this. 
O  God  !  forgive  my  sins,  and  pardon  thee  !      [Dies. 
Glo.  What,  will  the  aspiring  blood  of  Lancaster 

*  Sink  in  the  ground  ?    I  thought  it   would  have 

mounted. 
See,  how  my  sword  weeps  for  the  poor  king's  death  ! 

*  O,  may  such  purple  tears  be  always  shed 

*  From  those  that  wish  the  downfal  of  our  house  ! — 

*  If  any  spark  of  life  be  yet  remaining  ^, 

Down,  down  to  hell ;  and  say — 1  sent  thee  thither, 

[Stabs  him  again. 
I,  that  have  neither  pity,  love,  nor  fear. — 
Indeed,  'tis  true,  that  Henry  told  me  of'  ; 

I  can  easily  see,  that  this  blank  was  caused  by  the  nicety  of  the 
players,  to  suppress  an  indecent  idea,  But,  with  submission,  this 
was  malting  but  half  a  cure,  unless  they  had  expunged  the  repe- 
tition of  it  out  of  Richard's  speech  too.     Theobald. 

"  Thou  cam'st — ."     Thus  the  folio.     The  old  play  as  follows  : 

"  Thou  cam'st  into  the  tvorld . 

"  Gio.  Die  prophet  in  thy  speech  ; — I'll  hear  no  more." 

Malone. 
^  If  any  spark  of  life  be  yet  remaining,]     So.  in  the  6th  book  of 
Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  translated  by  Arthur  Golding,  1587  : 
"  If  any  sparke  of  nature  do  within  thy  hart  remaine." 

Steevens. 
7  —  that  Henry  told  meof ;]     Namely,  that  my  birth  was  at- 
tended with  singular  circumstances. — Theobald,  grounding  him- 
self on  this  and  the  two  following  lines,  reads  in  a  former  passage — 

"  Thou  cam'st  itito  the  ivorld  with  thy  legsforivard." 
for  "  how,"  (says  he,)  can  Richard  say,  ''  Indeed  'tis  true  that 
Henry  told  me  of,"'  &;c.  "  unless  we  suppose  King  Henry  re- 
proached him  with  his  preposterous  birth."  But  surely  Henry /;«s 
done  so  in  the  last  ten  lines  of  his  speech,  though  he  is  at  length 
prevented  by  the  fatal  stab  from  mentioning  a  further  proof  of 
Richard's  being  born  for  the  destruction  of  mankind.  Theobald's 
addition  therefore  to  that  line,  has,  I  think,  been  adopted,  too 
hastily  by  the  subsequent  editors,  and  the  interruption  in  the 
midst  of   Henry's   speech  appears  to  me  not  only  preferable,  as 


543  THIRD  PART  OF  act  v. 

For  I  have  often  heard  my  mother  sa}-, 

I  came  into  the  world  with  my  legs  forward : 

Had  I  not  reason,  think  ye,  to  make  haste, 

*  And  seek  their  ruin  that  usurp 'd  our  right  ? 
The  midwife  wonder'd ;  and  the  women  cried, 
0,  Jtsus  bless  us,  he  is  born  zvitli  teeth  ! 

*  And  so  I  was  ;  which  plainly  signified — 
That  I  should  snarl,  and  bite,  and  play  the  dog. 

*  Then,  since  the  heavens  have  shap'd  my  body  so, 
Let  hell  ^  make  crook'd  my  mind  to  answer  it. 

I  have  no  brother,  I  am  like  no  brother : 

'  And  this  word — love,  which  greybeards  call  divine. 

Be  resident  in  men  like  one  another. 

And  not  in  me ;  I  am  mvself  alone. — 

Clarence,  beware  :  thou  keep'st  me  from  the  light ; 

But  I  will  sort  a  pitchy  day  for  thee  ^ : 

For  I  will  buz  abroad  such  prophecies, 

'  That  Edward  shall  be  fearful  of  his  life  '  : 


warranted  by  the  old  copies,  and  by  Gloster's  subsequent  words, 
[Die,  prophet,  in  tliy  speech ;]  but  more  agreeable  to  nature. 

Malone. 
^  Let  hell,  &c.]     This  line  Dryden  seems  to  have  thought  on 
in  his  Oepidus : 

"  It  was  thy  crooked  mind  hunch'd  out  thv  back, 
*'  And  wander'd  in  thy  limbs."     Steevens. 
After  this  line,  we  find  in  the  old  play  the  following: 

"  I  had  no  father,  I  am  like  no  father." 
It  might  have  been  omitted  in  the  folio  merely  by  accident,  (as 
some  lines  in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Heniy  VI.  certainly  uere,) 
but  its  restoration  is  not  necessary,  for  the  sense  is  complete  with- 
out it.     Malone. 

9  But  I  will  SORT  a  pitchy  day  for  thee:]  But  I  will  choose 
out  an  hour  whose  gloom  shall  be  as  fatal  to  you.  To  sort  is  to 
select.     So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1605  : 

" for  they  had  5ori«/ leisure." 

Again,  in  The  Lover's  Melancholy,  1629  : 

"  We  shall  sort  time  to  take  more  notice  of  him." 

Steevens. 
'  For  I  will  buz  abroad  such  prophecies, 
That  Edward  shall  be  fearful  of  his  life;]     The  quartos  add 
a  line  between  these  : 


sc.  VII.  KING  HENRY  VI.  643 

And  then,  to  purge  his  fear,  I'll  be  thy  death. 

*  King  Henry,  and  the  prince  his  son,  are  gone  : 

*  Clarence,  thy  turn  is  next,  and  then  the  rest ; 
Counting  myself  but  bad,  till  I  be  best. — 

*  I'll  throw  thy  body  in  another  room. 

And  triumph,  Henry,  in  thy  day  of  doom.      \^Ej:it. 


SCENE  VII. 

The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

King  Edtt'ard  is  discovered  sitting  on  his  Throne; 
Qiieen  Elizabeth  ivith  the  infant  Prince,  Cla- 
RENCE^  Gloster,  Hastings,  and  Others,  near 
him. 

K,  Edtf.  Once  more  we  sit  in  England's  royal 
throne, 
Re-purchas'd  with  the  blood  of  enemies. 
What  vahant  foe-men,  like  to  autumn's  corn, 
Have  we  mow'd  down ",  in  tops  of  all  their  pride  .^ 
Three  dukes  of  Somerset  ?  threefold  renown'd 
For  hardy  and  undoubted  champions  : 
Two  Cliffords,  as  the  father  and  the  son, 
And  two  Northumberlands ;  two  braver  men 
Ne'er  spurr'd  their  coursers  at  the  trumpet's  sound : 

" such  prophecies, 

"  Under  pretence  of  outward  seemhig  ill, 
"  That,"  &c.     Steevens. 
This  line  is  not  in  the  quarto  printed  by  W.  W.  1600  ;  but  it  is 
in  the  undated  quarto,   which  in  fact  was  printed  in  1619,  from 
that  printed  in  1600  by  V.  S.     Malone. 
*  —  like  to  autumn's  corn. 
Have  we  mow'd  down,]     A  kindred   image  occurs  in  King 
Henry  V.  vol.  xvii.  p.  34-8 : 

" mowing  like  grass 

"  Your  fresh-fair  virgins,  and  your  flow'ring  infants," 

Steevens. 


544  THIRD  PART  Or  act  r. 

*  With  them,  the  two  brave  bears,    Warwick  and 

Montague, 
That  in  their  chains  fetter  d  the  kingly  lion, 
And  made  the  forest  tremble  when  they  roar'd. 
Thus  have  we  swept  suspicion  from  our  seat, 
And  made  our  footstool  of  security. — 
Come  hither,  Bess,  and  let  me  kiss  my  boy : — 
Young  Ned,  for  thee,  thine  uncles,  and  myself, 
Have  in  our  armours  watch'd  the  winter's  night ; 

*  Went  all  a  foot  in  summer's  scalding  heat. 
That  thou  might'st  repossess  the  crown  in  peace  ; 
And  of  our  labours  thou  shalt  reap  the  gain. 

Glo.  I'll  blast  his  harvest,  if  your  head  were  laid ; 
For  yet  I  am  not  look'd  on  in  the  world. 
This  shoulder  was  ordain'd  so  thick,  to  heave ; 
And   heave    it   shall   some   weight,   or   break  my 

back  : — 
Work  thou  the  way, — and  thou  shalt  execute  \ 

\_Aside. 
K.  Edw.  Clarence,   and  Gloster,  love  my  lovely 
queen; 
And  kiss  your  princely  nephew,  brothers  both. 
Clar.  The  duty,  that  I  owe  unto  your  majesty, 

3  Work  thou  the  way^ — and  thou  shalt  execute.]  I  believe 
we  should  read : 

" and  this  shall  execute." 

Richard  laying  his  hand  on  his  forehead  says  : 

"  Work  thou  the  way ." 

then  bringing  down  his  hand,  and  beholding  it : 

" and  this  shall  execute." 

Though  that  may  stand,  the  arm  being  included  in  the  shoulder. 

Johnson. 
The  quartos  read  : 

"  Work  thou  the  way,  and  thou  shalt  execute." 
I  suppose  he  speaks  this  line,  first  touching  his  head,  and  then 
looking  on  his  hand.     Steevens. 

This  is  the  reading  of  the  old  play.  The  folio  reads — "  and 
tliat  shalt  execute."  But  as  the  word  shalt  is  preserved,  the  other 
must  have  been  an  error  of  the  transcriber  or  compositor. 

Malone. 


sc,  rii.  KING  HENRY  VI.  545 

I  seal  upon  the  lips  of  this  sweet  babe. 

K.  Enrr.  Thanks,  noble  Clarence ;  worthy  bro- 
ther, thanks  ^. 

*  Glo.  And,  that  I  love  the  tree  from  whence 
thou  sprang'st, 

*  Witness  the  loving  kiss  I  give  the  fruit : — 
To  say  the  truth,  so  Judas  kiss'd  his  master ; 

*  And  cried — all  hail !  when  as  he  meant — all  harm. 

K.  Edw.  Now  am  I  seated  as  my  soul  delights. 
Having  my  country's  peace,  and  brothers'  loves. 

Clar.    What  will  your   grace  have  done   with 
Margaret  ? 
Reignier,  her  father,  to  the  king  of  France 
Hath  pawn'd  the  Sicils  and  Jerusalem, 
And  hither  have  they  sent  it  for  her  ransom. 

K.  Edw.  Away  with  her,  and  waft  her  hence  to 
France. 
And  now  what  rests,  but  that  we  spend  the  time 
With  stately  triumphs  ^,  mirthful  comick  shows. 
Such  as  befit  the  pleasures  of  the  court  ? 
Sound,  drums  and  trumpets ! — farewell,  sour  annoy! 
For  here,  I  hope,  begins  our  lasting  joy.     [E.veunt. 

4  Thanks,  noble  Clarence ;  worthy  brother,  thanks.]  The 
quarto  appropriates  this  line  to  the  Queen.  The  first  and  second 
folio,  by  mistake,  have  given  it  to  Clarence. 

In  my  copy  of  the  second  folio,  which  had  belonged  to  King 
Charles  the  First,  his  Majesty  has  erased — Cla.  and  written  King, 
in  its  stead. — Shakspeare,  therefore,  in  the  catalogue  of  his  re- 
storers, may  boast  of  a  Royal  name.     Steevens. 

5  With  stately  triumphs,]  Triumphs  arepiMick  shntvs.  This 
word  has  occurred  too  frequently  to  need  exemplification  in  the 
present  instance.     Steevens. 


VOL.  XVIII.  2    N 


o4C)  THIRD  PART  OF 

The  following  Summary  Account  *  of  the  times  and  places  of 
the  several  battles  fought  between  the  two  houses  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  and  of  the  numbers  killed  on  both  sides,  is  formed  on 
that  given  bv  Trussel,  at  the  end  of  his  History  of  England,  a 
book  of  little  value,  but  in  matters  of  this  kind  tolerably  correct. 
I  have  compared  his  account  with  our  earliest  historians,  and  in 
some  places  corrected  it  by  them. 

1.  The  Battle  of  Saint  Albans,  fought  on  the  23d  of  May,  1455, 
between  Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York,  and  King  Henry  VI. 
In  this  battle  the  Duke  of  York  was  victorious,  and  Henry  was 
taken  prisoner. 

Killed,  on  the  royal  side  5041,  (among  whom  were  Edmond 
Duke  of  Somerset,  Henry  Earl  of  Northumberland,  Humphrey 
Earl  of  Staftbrd,  and  Thomas  Clifford  ;)  on  the  side  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  600.     Total— 5641 . 

2.  The  Battle  of  Bloarhe".th  in  Shropshire,  fought  on  the  30th 
of  September  1459,  between  James  Lord  Audley  on  the  part  of 
King  Henry,  and  Richard  Nevil  Earl  of  Salisbury  on  the  part  of 
the  Duke  of  York ;  in  which  battle  Lord  Audley  was  slain,  and 
his  armv  defeated. 

Killed— 2411. 

3.  The  Buttle  of  Northampton,  20th  of  July,  1460,  between 
Edward  Plantagenet,  Earl  of  March,  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  Richard  Nevil  Earl  of  Warwick,  on  the  one  side,  and 
Kin"-  Henry  on  the  other  ;  in  which  the  Yorkists  were  victorious. 

Knied — ^"1035,  among  whom  were  John  Talbot  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, Humphrey  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  Sir  William  Lucy. 

4.  The  Battle  of  Wakefield,  December  30,  1460,  between 
Richard  Duke  of  York  and  Queen  Margaret;  in  which  the  Duke 
of  York  was  defeated. 

Killed— 2801,  among  whom  vverc  the  Duke  of  York,  Edmond 
Earl  of  Rutland  his  second  son,  Sir  John  and  Sir  Hugh  Mortimer, 
his  base  uncles,  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  Richard  Nevil  Earl 
of  Salisbury  was  in  this  battle  taken  prisoner,  and  afterwards  be- 
headed at  Pomfret. 

5.  The  Battle  of  Mortimer's  Cross,  in  Herefordshire,  on 
Candlemas-dav,  1460-1,  between  Edward  Duke  of  York  on  the 
one  side,  and  jasper  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  James  Butler  Earl  of 
Wiltshire,  on  the  other ;  in  which  the  Duke  of  York  was  vic- 
torious. . 

Killed— 3S00,  among  whom  was  Sir  Owen  Tuther  or  iudors, 
who  married  Queen  Katharine,  the  widow  of  King  Henry  V. 


*  Mr.  Ritson,  among  his  Remarks,  1783,  p.  130,  has  also  enu- 
merated the  following  battles,  &c.  but  as  Mr.  Malone's  subse- 
quent account  of  the  same  occurrences  is  the  more  ample  of  the 
two,  I  have  adopted  it.     Steevens. 


KING  HENRY  VT.  547 

6.  The  Second  Battle  of  Saint  Albans,  February  17,  1460-1, 
between  Queen  Margaret  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk and  the  Earl  of  U'arwick  on  the  other;  in  which  the  Queen 
obtained  the  victory. 

Killed — 2303  ;  among  whom  was  Sir  John  Grey,  a  Lancastrian, 
whose  widow,  Lady  Grey,  afterwards  married  King  Edward  the 
Fourth. 

7.  The  action  at  Ferrybridge,  in  Yorkshire,  March  28,  1461, 
between  Lord  Clifford  on  the  part  of  King  Henry,  and  the  Lord 
Fitzwalter  on  the  part  of  the  Duke  of  York. 

Killed — 230,  among  whom  were  Lord  Fitzwalter,  John  Lord 
Clifford,  and  the  bastard  son  of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury. 

8.  The  Battle  of  Towton,  four  miles  from  York,  Palm-Sunday, 
March  29,  1461,  between  Edward  Duke  of  York  and  King  Henry  ; 
in  which  King  Henry  was  defeated. 

Killed — 37,046,  among  whom  were  Plenry  Pcrcv  Earl  of  Nor- 
thumberland, the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  and  the  Lords  Nevil,  Beau- 
mond,  Willoughby,  Wells,  Roos,  Gray,  Dacres,  and  Fitzhugh. 
The  Earl  of  Devonshire  was  taken  prisoner,  and  soon  afterwards 
beheaded  at  York. 

9.  The  Battle  of  Hedgeley  Moor,  in  Northumberland,  April  29, 
1463,  between  John  Nevil  Viscount  Montague,  on  the  part  of 
King  Edward  IV.  and  the  Lords  Hungerford  and  Roos  on  the  part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  :  in  wliich  the  Yorkists  were  victorious. 

Killed — 108,  among  whom  was  Sir  Ralph  Percy. 

10.  The  Battle  of  Hexham,  May  15,  1463,  between  Viscount 
Montague  and  King  Henry,  in  which  that  King  was  defeated. 

Killed— 2024.  Heniy  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  the 
Lord  Roos  and  Hungerford,  fighting  on  the  side  of  King  Henry, 
were  taken  prisoners,  and  soon  afterwards  beheaded. 

11.  The  Battle  of  Hedgecote,  four  miles  from  Banbury,  July  25, 
1469,  between  William  Herbert  Earl  of  Pembroke,  on  the  part  of 
King  Edward,  and  the  lords  Fitzhugh  and  Latimer,  and  Sir  John 
Conyers,  on  the  part  of  King  Henry :  in  which  the  Lancastrians 
were  defeated. 

Killed— 5009.  The  Earl  of  Pembroke  and  his  brother,  Richard 
Widville  Earl  of  Rivers,  father  to  King  Edwards  Queen,  Sir 
John  Widville,  John  Tiptoft  Earl  of  Worcester,  the  Lords  Wil- 
loughby, Stafford,  and  Wells,  were  taken  prisoners,  and  soon 
afterwards  beheaded. 

13.  The  Battle  of  Stamford,  in  Lincolnshire,  October  1,  1469, 
between  Sir  Robert  Wells  and  King  Edward  ;  in  which  the  former 
was  defeated  and  taken  prisoner.  The  vanquished  who  fled,  in 
order  to  lighten  themselves  threw  away  their  coats,  wlience 
the  place  of  combat  was  called  Losecoaifield . 

Killed— 10,000. 

14.  The  Battle  of  Barnet,  on  Easter-Sunday,  April  14,  1471, 
between  King  Edward  on  one  side,  and  the  Eiirl  of  Warwick,  the 

2  N  2 


548  THIRD  PART  OF 

Marquis  of  Montague,  and  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  on  the  part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  in  which  the  Lancastrians  were  defeated. 

Killed — 10,300  ;  among  whom  were  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  the 
Marquis  of  Montague,  the  Lord  Cromwell,  and  the  son  and  heir  of 
Lord  Say. 

In  a  letter  which  was  written  at  London  four  days  after  the 
battle  of  Barnet,  the  total  number  killed  on  both  sides  is  said  to 
have  been  "  more  than  a  thousand.'"  Paston  Letters,  vol.  ii. 
p.  Q5.     Fabian,  the  nearest  contemporary  historian,  says  1500. 

The  custom  among  our  old  writers  of  using  Arabick  numerals, 
has  been  the  cause  of  innumerable  errors,  the  carelessness  of  a 
transcriber  or  printer  by  the  addition  of  a  cipher  converting  hun- 
dreds into  thousands.  From  the  inaccuracy  in  the  present  instance 
we  have  ground  to  suspect  that  the  numbers  said  to  have  fallen  in 
the  other  battles  between  th.e  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  have 
been  exaggerated.  Sir  John  Paston  who  was  himself  at  the 
battle  of  Barnet,  was  probably  correct. 

\5.  The  Battle  of  Tewksbury,  May 3,  1471,  between  King 
Edward  and  Queen  Margaret,  in  which  the  Queen  was  defeated, 
and  she  and  her  son  Prince  Edward  were  taken  jjrisoners. 

On  the  next  day  the  Prince  was  killed  by  King  Edward  and  his 
brothers,  and  Edmond  Duke  of  Somerset  beheaded. 

Killed — 3,032.  Shortly  afterwards,  in  an  action  between  the 
bastard  son  of  Lord  Falconbridge  and  some  Londoners,  1092  per- 
sons were  killed. 

16.  The  Battle  of  Bosworth,  in  Leicestershire,  August  22, 
1485,  between  King  Richard  III.  and  Henry  Earl  of  Richmond, 
afterwards  King  Henry  VII.  in  which  King  Richard  was  defeated 
and  slain. 

Killed,  on  the  part  of  Richard,  4',013,  among  whom  were  John 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  Walter  Lord  Ferrers  ;  on  the  part  of  Rich- 
mond, 181. 

The  Total  Number  of  persons  who  fell  in  this  contest,  was 
Ninety-one  Thousand  and  Twenty-six.     Malone. 

The  three  parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  are  suspected,  by  Mr. 
Theobald,  of  being  supposititious,  and  are  declared,  by  Dr.  War- 
burton,  to  be  certainly  not  Shakspeare's.  Mr.  Theobald's  suspi- 
cion arises  from  some  obsolete  words  ;  but  the  phraseology  is  like 
the  rest  of  our  author's  style,  and  single  words,  of  which  however 
I  do  not  observe  more  than  two,  can  conclude  little. 

Dr.  Warburton  gives  no  reason,  but  I  suppose  him  to  judge 
upon  deeper  principles  and  more  comprehensive  views,  and  to 
draw  his  opinion  from  the  general  effect  and  spirit  of  the  composi- 
tion, which  he  thinks  inferior  to  the  other  historical  plays. 

From  mere  inferiority  nothing  can  be  inferred  ;  in  the  produc- 
tions of  wit  there  will  be  inequality.  Sometimes  judgment  will  err, 
and  sometimes  the  matter  itself  will  defeat  the  artist.  Of  every 
authors  works  one  will  be  the  best,  and  one  will  be  the  worst. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  549 

The  colours  are  not  equally  pleasing,  nor  the  attitudes  equally 
graceful,  in  all  the  pictures  of  Titian  or  Reynolds. 

Dissimilitude  of  style  and  heterogenousness  of  sentiment,  may 
sufficiently  show  that  a  work  does  not  really  belong  to  the  reputed 
author.  But  in  these  plays  no  such  marks  of  spuriousness  are 
found.  The  diction,  the  versification,  and  the  figures,  are  Shak- 
speare's.  These  plays,  considered,  without  regard  to  characters 
and  incidents,  merely  as  narratives  in  verse,  are  more  happily 
conceived,  and  more  accurately  finished  than  those  of  K.  John, 
Richard  II.  or  the  tragick  scenes  of  King  Henry  IV.  and  V.  If 
we  take  these  plays  from  Shakspeare,  to  whom  shall  they  be 
given  ?  What  author  of  that  age  had  the  same  easiness  of  ex- 
pression and  fluency  of  numbers  ? 

Having  considered  the  evidence  given  by  the  plays  themselves, 
and  found  it  in  their  favour,  let  us  now  enquire  what  corrobora- 
tion can  be  gained  from  other  testimony.  They  are  ascribed  to 
Shakspeare  by  the  first  editors,  whose  attestation  may  be  received 
in  questions  of  fact,  however  unskilfully  they  superintended  their 
edition.  They  seem  to  be  declared  genuine  by  the  voice  of 
Shakspeare  himself,  who  refers  to  the  second  play  in  his  epi- 
logue to  King  Henry  V.  and  apparently  connects  the  first  Act  of 
King  Richard  III.  with  the  last  of  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  If  it  be  objected  that  the  plays  were  popular,  and 
that  therefore  he  alluded  to  them  as  well  known  ;  it  may  be  an- 
swered, with  equal  probability,  that  the  natural  passions  of  a  poet 
would  have  disposed  him  to  separate  his  own  works  from  those  of 
an  inferior  hand.  And,  indeed,  if  an  author's  own  testimony 
is  to  be  overthrown  by  speculative  criticism,  no  man  can  be  any 
longer  secure  of  literary  reputation. 

Of  these  three  plays  I  think  the  second  the  best.  The  truth  is, 
that  they  have  not  sufficient  variety  of  action,  for  the  incidents 
are  too  often  of  the  same  kind ;  yet  many  of  the  characters  are 
well  discriminated.  King  Henry,  and  his  Queen,  King  Edward, 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  and  the  Earl  of  ^\^arwick,  are  very 
strongly  and  distinctly  painted. 

The  old  copies  of  the  two  latter  parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  and 
of  King  Henry  V.  are  so  apparently  imperfect  and  mutilated,  that 
there  is  no  reason  for  supposing  them  the  first  draughts  of  Shak- 
speare. I  am  inclined  to  believe  them  copies  taken  by  some  auditor 
who  wrote  down,  during  the  representation,  what  the  time  would 
permit,  then  perhaps  filled  up  some  of  his  omissions  at  a  second 
or  third  hearing,  and,  when  he  had  by  this  method  formed  some- 
thing like  a  play,  sent  it  to  the  printer.     Johnson. 

So,  Heywood,  in  the  Preface  to  his  Rape  of  Lucrece,  (fourth 
imjjression,)   1630: 

"  — for  though  some  have  used  a  double  sale  of  their  labours, 
fiist  to  the  stage  and  after  to  the  press,  for  my  own  part  I  here 
proclaim  myself  ever  faithful  to  the  first,  and  never  guilty  of  the 

5 


550  THIRD  PART  OF 

last :  yet  since  some  of  my  plays  have  (unknown  to  me,  and 
without  any  of  my  direction,)  accidentally  come  into  the  printer's 
hands,  and  therefore  so  corrupt  and  mangled  {copied  only  by  the 
ear,)  that  I  have  been  as  unable  to  know  them  as  ashamed  to 
challenge  them,  this  therefore  I  was  the  willinger,"  &c. 

Collins. 
There  is  another  circumstance  which  may  serve  to  strengthen 
Dr.  Johnson's  supposition,  vi?.  that  most  of  the  fragments  of 
Latin  verses,  omitted  in  the  quartos,  are  to  be  found  in  the  folio  ; 
and  when  any  of  them  are  inserted  in  the  former,  thevare  shame- 
fully  corrupted  and  misspelt.  The  auditor,  who  understood 
English,  might  be  unskilled  in  any  other  language.     Steevens. 

I  formerly  coincided  with  Dr.  Johnson  on  this  subject,  at  a 
time  when  I  had  examined  the  two  old  plays  published  in  quarto 
under  the  title  of  The  Whole  Contention  of  the  two  famous 
Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  in  two  parts,  with  less  attention 
than  1  have  lately  done.  That  dramas  were  sometimes  imper- 
fectly taken  down  in  the  theatre,  and  afterwards  published  in  a 
mutilated  state,  is  proved  decisively  by  the  prologue  to  a  play  en- 
tilled,  If  you  Know  Not  Me  You  Know  Nobody,  by  Thomas 
Hey  wood,  1623  : 

" 'Twas  ill  nurst, 

"  And  yet  receiv'd  as  well  perform'd  at  first ; 
"  Grac'd  and  frequented  ;  for  the  cradle  age 
"  Did  throng  the  seats,  the  boxes,  and  the  stage, 
"  So  much,  that  some  by  stenography  drew 
"  The  plot,  put  it  in  print,  scarce  one  word  true  : 
"  And  in  that  lameness  it  has  limp'd  so  long, 
"  The  author  now,  to  vindicate  that  wrong 
"  Hath  took  the  pains  upright  upon  its  feet 
"  To  teach  it  walk  ;  so  please  you,  sit  and  see  it." 
But  the  old  plays  in  quarto,  which  have  been  hitherto  supposed 
to  be  imperfect  representations  of  the  second  and  third  parts  of 
King  Heniy  VI.  are  by  no  means  mutilated  and  imperfect.     The 
scenes  are  as  well  connected,  and  the  versification  as  correct,  as 
that  of  most  of  the  other  dramas  of  that  time.     The  fact  there- 
fore, which  Heywood's  Prologue  ascertains,  throws  no  light  upon 
the  present    contested  question.     Such   observations  as   I    have 
made  upon  it,   I  shall  subjoin  in  a  distinct  Essay  on  the  subject. 

M  ALONE. 

I  have  already  given  some  reasons,  why  I  cannot  believe,  that 
these  plays  were  originally  written  by  Shakspeare.  The  question, 
who  did  write  them?  is,  at  best,  but  an  ^rgum^wiad ignorantiam. 
We  must  remember,  that  very  many  old  plays  are  anonymous  ; 
and  that  play-xm-iting  was  scarcely  yet  thought  reputable  :  nay, 
some  authors  express  for  it  great  horrors  of  repentance. — I  will 
attempt,  however,  at  some  future  time,  to  answer  this  question': 
the  disquisition  of  it  would  be  too  long  for  this  place. 


KING  HENRY  Vl.  551 

One  may  at  least  argue,  that  the  plays  were  not  vvrkten  by 
Shakspeare,  from  Shakspeare  himself.  The  Churus  at  the  end 
of  King  Henry  V.  addresses  the  audience — 

" For  their  sake, 

"  In  your  fair  minds  let  this  acceptance  take." 

But  it  could  be  neither  agreeable  to  the  poet's  judgment  or 
his  modesty,  to  recommend  his  new  play  from  the  merit  and  suc- 
cess  of  King   Henry  VI. His  claim   to  indulgence  is,   that, 

though  bending  and  unequal  to  the  task,  he  has  ventured  to  pursue 
the  story :  and  this  sufficiently  accounts  for  the  connection  of  the 
whole,  and  the  allusions  of  particular  passages.     Farmer. 

It  is  seldom  that  Dr.  Farmer's  arguments  fail  to  enforce  con- 
viction ;  but  here,  perhaps,  they  may  want  somewhat  of  their 
usual  weight.  I  think  that  Shakspeare's  bare  mention  of  these 
pieces  is  a  sufficient  proof  they  were  his.  That  they  were  so, 
could  be  his  only  motive  for  inferring  benefit  to  himself  from  the 
spectators  recollection  of  their  past  success.  For  the  sake  of 
three  historical  dramas  of  mine  which  have  already  afforded  you 
entertainment,  let  me  (says  he)  intreat  your  indulgence  to  a 
fourth.  Surely  this  was  a  stronger  plea  in  his  behalf,  than  any 
arising  from  the  kind  reception  which  another  might  have  already 
met  with  in  the  same  way  of  writing.  Shakspeare's  claim  to 
favour  is  founded  on  his  having  previously  given  ])leasure  in  the 
course  of  three  of  those  histories;  because  \\q '\fi  i\.  bending,  sup- 
plicatory author,  and  not  a  literary  bully,  like  Ben  Jonson  ;  and 
because  he  has  ventured  to  exhibit  a  series  of  annals  in  a  suite  of 
plays,  an  attempt  which  till  then  had  not  received  the  sanction  of 
the  stage. 

1  hope  Dr.  Farmer  did  not  wish  to  exclude  the  three  dramas 
before  us,  together  with  The  Taming  of  the  Slirew.  from  the 
number  of  those  produced  by  our  author,  on  account  of  the  Latin 
quotations  to  be  found  in  them.  His  proofs  of  Snakspeare's  want 
of  learning  are  too  strong  to  stand  in  need  of  such  a  supj)ort. 

Steevens. 
Though  the  objections  which  have  been  raised  to  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  three  plays  of  Henry  the  Sixth  have  been  fully  con- 
sidered and  answered  by  Dr.  Johnson,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  add 
here,  from  a  contemporary  writer,  a  passage,  which  not  only 
points  at  Shakspeare  as  the  author  of  them,  but  also  shows,  that, 
however  meanly  we  may  now  think  of  them  in  comparison  with 
his  latter  productions,  they  had,  at  the  time  of  their  appearance, 
a  sufficient  degree  of  excellence  to  alarm  the  jealousy  of  the  older 
play-wrights.  The  passage,  to  which  I  refer,  is  in  a  pamphlet, 
entitled,  Greene's  Groatsworth  of  Witte,  supposed  to  have  been 
written  by  that  voluminous  author,  Robert  Greene,  M.  A.  and 
said,  in  the  title-page,  to  he.  published  at  his  dying  request  ;  pro- 
bably about  159?.  The  conclusion  of  this  piece  is  an  address  to 
his  brother  poets,  to  dissuade  them  from  writing  any  more  for  the 


552        THIRD  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

stage,  on  account  of  the  ill  treatment  which  they  were  used  to 
receive  from  the  players.     It  begins  thus  :  "  To  those  gentlemen, 
his  quondam  acquaintance,  that  spend  their  wits  in  making  playes, 
R.  G.  wisheth  a  better  exercise,"  &c.     After  having  addressed 
himself  particularly  to  Christopher  Marlowe  and  Thomas  Lodge, 
(as  I  guess  from  circumstances,  for  their  names  are  not  men- 
tioned ;)  he  goes  on  to  a  third,   (perhaps  George   Peele  ;)  and 
having  warned  him  against  depending  on  so  mean  a  stay  as  the 
players,  he  adds  :   "  Yes,  trust  them  not;  for  there  is  an   upstart 
crow   beautified   with   our  feathers ;  that  with    his  tygres  head 
ivrapt  in  a  players  hyde,  supposes  hee  is   as  well  able  to  bom- 
baste  out  a  blanke  verse  as  the  best  of  you  ;  and  being  an  dib^o- 
\ute  Johannes  Jac  totum  is,  in  his  own  conceit,  the  onely  Shake- 
scene  in  a  countrey."     There  can  be  no  doubt,    I  think,  that 
Shake-scene  alludes  to  Shaksneare  ;  or  that  his  tygres  head  urapt 
in  a  players  hyde,  is  a  parodie   upon  the  following  line  o    York's 
speech  to  Margaret,  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  Act  I.  So.  IV.: 
"  Oh  tygres  heart,  ivrapt  in  a  woman's  hide." 

Tyrwhitt. 


DISSERTATION 


ON 


THE  THREE  PARTS 


OF 


KING   HENRY  VI, 


CONTENTS. 


THE  subject  stated.  The  inferior  parts  in  these  three  plays 
being  of  a  different  complexion  from  the  inferior  parts  of  Shak- 
speare's  undoubted  performances,  a  proof  that  they  were  not 
written  originaUy  and  entirely  by  him. — Mr.  Malone's  hypothe- 
sis. The  First  Part  of  K.  Henry  VI.  not  written  by  him,  p.  557. 
The  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  formed  by  Shak- 
speare  on  two  elder  plays,  the  one  entitled  the  First  Part  of  the 
Contention  of  the  Two  famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster, 
with  the  Death  of  the  good  Duke  Humphrey,  &c.  the  other.  The 
true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  and  the  Death  of 
good  King  Henry  the  Sixt.     p.  558. 

The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 

The  diction,  versification,  and  allusions,  of  this  piece  all  dif- 
ferent from  the  diction,  versification,  and  allusions  of  Shakspeare, 
and  corresponding  with  those  of  the  dramatists  that  preceded  him, 
p.  558 — 56'h.  Date  of  this  play  some  years  before  1592  ;  p.  5G'\!. 
Other  internal  evidence  (beside  the  diction,  &c.)  that  this  piece 
was  not  written  by  Shakspeare ;  nor  by  the  author  of  The  First 
Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &c.  nor  by  the  au- 
thor of  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  p.  5Q5 
— 567.  Presumptive  proof  that  this  play  was  not  written  by 
Shakspeare,  from  its  not  containing  any  similarities  of  thought 
to  his  undisputed  plays,  nor  of  expression,  (except  in  a  single  in- 
stance,) and  from  its  general  paucity  of  rhymes,  p.  568. 

The  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 

I.  External  Evidence.  1.  The  entry  of  The  First  Part  of 
the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  &c.  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  1594, 
anonymous.  2.  That  piece,  and  the  True  Tragedie  of  Richard 
Duke  of  Yorke,  printed  at  first,  anonymoudi/.  Shakspeare's 
name  afterwards  fraudulently  affixed  to  these  pieces,  and  why. 
The  same  artifice  practised  with  respect  to  other  plays  on  tvJiich 
he  liad  constructed  dramas,  p.  569,  570.  3.  These  two  old  plays 
performed  by  Lord  Pembroke's  Servants,  by  whom  Titus  Andro- 
nicus,  and  The  old  Taming  of  a  Shrew  were  performed,  and  by 
whom  not  one  of  Shakspeare's  undisputed  plays  were  represented, 
p.  570.  4.  Reasons  assigned  for  supposing  Robert  Greene,  or 
George  Peele,  or  both,  the  author  or  authors  of  the  old  plays, 
p.  570 — 572.  5.  These  pieces  nexv-modelled  and  re-ivritten  by 
Shakspeare,  with  great  additions,  which  in  the  present  edition 

6 


c. 


556  CONTENTS. 

are  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  mark,  p.  572.  The  mode 
taken  by  Shakspeare,  p.  572 — 576.  6.  The  fraud  of  Favier  the 
bookseller,  who  in  the  year  1619,  after  the  death  of  Shaskpeare, 
affixed  his  name  to  these  two  old  plays,  accounted  for,  p.  576. 
7.  These  two  old  pieces  being  printed  and  reprinted,  and  The 
First  Part  of  King  Henry  W.  not  being  printed,  in  Sh;ikspeare's 
life  time,  a  presumptive  proof  that  he  new-modelled  the  former, 
and  had  little  or  no  concern  with  the  latter,  p.  577. 

II.  Internal  Evidence.  1.  The  F6(?7Vi^/o?JS  between  the  two 
old  plays  in  quarto,  and  the  corresponding  pieces  in  the  folio 
edition  of  our  author's  dramatick  works,  of  so  peculiar  a  nature, 
as  to  mark  iv:o  distinct  hands.  Several  passages  and  circum- 
.stances  found  in  the  old  plays,  of  which  there  is  no  trace  in 
Shakspeare's  new  modification  of  them  ;  others  materially  vary- 
ing. These  insertions  andvariations  could  not  have  arisen  from 
unskilful  copyists  or  sliort-hand  writers,  who  sometimes  cur- 
tail   and    mutilate,     but   do  not  invent  and    amplify,     p.  578. 

2.  The  Resemblances  between  certain  passages  in  Shakspeare  s 
Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  W.  and  his  undisputed 
works,  a  proof  that  he  wrote  a  large  portion  of  those  plays  ;  and 

3.  The  Discordancies  between  them  and  his  undisputed  plays, 
a  proof  that  he  did  not  write  the  whole ;  these  resemblances 
being  found  ordy  in  tlie  folio,  that  is,  in  the  plays  as  new- 
modelled  by  Shakspeare  ;  and  these  discordancies  being  found 
in  the  old  quarto  plays,  from  whence  it  must  be  presumed 
that  they  were  adopted  through   carelessness   or  haste,  p.  583. 

4.  The  peculiar  Inaccuracies  of  Shakspeare ;  and  5.  his  peculiar 
Phraseology,  which  are  found  in  The  Second  and  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  as  exhibited  in  folio,  and  not  in  the  old  quarto 
plays  printed  in  1600,  prove  that  there  were  two  distinct  hands  in 
these  pieces.  So  also  do,  6.  The  Transpositions;  and  7.  the 
Ecpeiitions :  and  8.  the  Inconsistencies  arising  from  sometimes 
following,  and  sometimes  departing  from,  an  original  model, 
p.  585 — 591.  9.  Hall,  the  historian  on  whose  Chronicle  the  old 
plays  in  quarto  were  constructed ;  but  Holinshed  and  not  Hall, 
Shakspeare's  historian,  p.  589. 

The  whole  plays  on  which  Shakspeare  formed  his  Secord  and 
Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  probably  written  by  the  author  of 
King  John,  printed  in  1591,  whoever  he  was:  p.  591.  An 
attempt  made  to  account  for  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 
being  printed  in  the  first  folio  edition  of  our  poet's  dramatick 
works,  p.  591.  Objections  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  others,  enu- 
merated. Recapitulation,  p.  .'592.  A  considerable  part  of  the 
English  History  dramatized  before  the  time  of  Shakspeare  ;  and 
many  of  his  historical  and  other  plays  formed  on  those  of  preceding 
writers,  p.  561.     Conclusion,  p.  563. 


«•• 


DISSERTATION 


ON 


THE  THREE  PARTS 


OF 


KING    HENRY    VI. 


TENDING    TO    SHOW 


TJiat  those  Plai/s  rpere  not  7vritten  ohiginally 
by  SHAKSPEARE. 

oEVERAL  passages  in  The  Second  and  Third  Part  of  Kiiig^ 
Henry  VI.  appearing  evidently  to  be  of  the  hand  of  Shakspeare, 
I  was  long  of  opinion  that  the  three  historical  dramas  which  are 
the  subject  of  the  present  disquisition,  were  properly  ascribed  to 
him  ;  not  then  doubting  that  the  whole  of  these  plays  was  the 
production  of  the  same  person.  But  a  more  minute  investigation 
of  the  subject,  into  which  I  have  been  led  by  the  revision  of  all 
our  author's  works,  has  convinced  me,  that,  though  the  premises 
were  true,  my  conclusion  was  too  hastily  drawn  ;  for  though  the 
hand  of  Shakspeare  is  unquestionably  found  in  the  two  latter  of 
these  plays,  it  does  not  therefore  necessarily  follow,  that  they 
were  originally  and  entirely  composed  by  him.  My  thoughts 
upon  this  point  have  already  been  intimated  in  the  foregoing 
notes  ;  but  it  is  now  necessary  for  me  to  state  my  opinion  more 
particularly,  and  to  lay  before  the  reader  the  grounds  on  which, 
after  a  very  careful  inquiry,  it  has  been  formed. 

What  at  present  I  have  chiefly  in  view  is,  to  account  for  the 
visible  inequality  in  these  pieces ;  many  traits  of  Shakspeare  being 
clearly  discernible  in  them,  while  the  inferior  parts  are  not  merely 
unequal  to  the  rest,  (from  which  no  certain  conclusion  can  be 
drawn,)  but  of  quite  a  different  complexion  from  the  inferior 
parts  of  our  author's  undoubted  performances. 

My  hypothesis  then  is,  that  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 
as  it  now  appears,  (of  which  no  quarto  copy  is  extant,)  was  the 
entire  or  nearly  the  entire  production  of  some  ancient  dramatist; 


558  DISSERTATION  ON 

that  The  Whole  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster, &c.  written  probably  before  the  year  1590,  was  also  the 
composition  of  some  writer  wlio  preceded  Shakspeare  ;  and  that 
from  this  piece,  which  is  in  two  parts,  (the  former  of  which  is 
entitled.  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  famous 
Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  with  the  Death  of  the  good 
Duke  Humphrey,  &c.  first  printed  in  1594;  and  the  latter. 
The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  and  the  Death  of 
good  King  Henrie  the  Sixt,  which  originally  appeared  in  J  595, 
and  both  parts  printed  together  in  1600;)  our  ])oet  formed  the 
two  plays,  entitled.  The  Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI. 
as  they  appear  in  the  first  folio  edition  of  his  works. 

Mr.  Upton  has  asked,  "  How  does  the  painter  distinguish 
copies  from  originals  but  by  manner  and  style  ?  And  have  not 
authors  their  peculiar  style  and  manner,  from  which  a  true  critick 
can  form  as  unerring  a  juagment  as  a  painter?"  Dr.  Johnson, 
though  he  has  shown,  with  his  usual  acuteness,  that,  "  this  illu- 
stration of  the  critick's  science  will  not  prove  what  is  desired," 
acknowledges  in  a  preceding  note,  that  "  dissimilitude  of  style 
and  heterogeneousness  of  sentiment  may  sufficiently  show  that  a 
work  does  not  really  belong  to  the  reputed  author.  But  in  these 
plays  (he  adds)  no  such  marks  of  spuriousness  are  found.  The 
diction,  versification,  and  the  figures,  are  Shakspeare's." — By 
these  criterions  then  let  us  examine  The  First  Part  of  K.  Henry  VI. 
(for  I  choose  to  consider  that  piece  separately  ;)  and  if  the  dic- 
tion, the  figures,  or  rather  the  allusions,  and  the  versification  of 
that  play,  (for  these  are  our  surest  guides)  shall  appear  to  be 
difte'rent  from  the  other  two  parts,  as  tlicy  are  exhibited  in  the 
folio,  and  from  our  authors  other  plays,  we  may  fairly  conclude 
that  he  was  not  the  writer  of  it. 

I.  With  respect  to  the  diction  and  the  allusions,  which  I  shall 
consider  under  the  same  head,  it  is  very  observable  that  in  The 
First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  there  are  more  allusions  to  mytho- 
logy, to  classical  authors,  and  to  ancient  and  modern  history, 
than,  I  believe,  can  be  found  in  any  one  piece  of  our  author's, 
written  on  an  English  story  ;  and  that  these  allusions  are  intro- 
duced very  much  in  the  same  manner  as  they  are  introduced  in 
the  plays  of  Greene,  Peele,  Lodge,  and  other  dramatists  who  pre- 
ceded Shakspeare  ;  that  is,  they  do  not  naturally  arise  out  of  the 
subject,  but  seem  to  be  inserted  merely  to  show  the  writer's  learn- 
ing *.     Of  these  the  following  are  the  most  remarkable  : 


*  —  to  show  the  writer's  learning.]  This  appearance  of  pe- 
dantry, if  not  assumed  in  imitation  of  Greene,  &c.  (see  p.  4,) 
would  only  induce  me  to  think  that  the  piece  now  under  conside- 
tion  might  be  the  work  of  a  juvenile  writer ;  and  why  not  one  of 
Shakspeare's    earliest   dramatick    effusions  ?      The  first   themes 


KING  HENRY  VI.  559 

1.  Mars  his  true  moving,  even  as  in  the  heavens. 
So  in  the  earth,  to  this  day  is  not  known. 

2.  A  far  more  glorious  star  thy  soul  will  make 
Than  Julius  Caesar,  or  bright — 

This  blank.  Dr.  Johnson  with  the  highest  probability  conjec- 
tures, should  be  filled  up  with  "  Berenice ;  "  a  word  that  the 
transcriber  or  compositor  probably  could  not  make  out.  In  the 
same  manner  he  left  a  blank  in  a  subsequent  passage  for  the  name 
of  "Nero,"  as  is  indubitably  proved  by  the  following  line,  which 
ascertains  the  omitted  word.     See  No.  6. 

3.  Was  Mahomet  inspired  with  a  dove  ? 

4.  Helen,  the  mother  of  great  Constantine, 

Nor  yet  Saint  Philip's  daughters,  were  like  thee, 

5.  Froisard,  a  countryman  of  ours,  records,  &c. 
6, and,  like  thee,  [Nero,] 

Play  on  the  lute,  beholding  the  towns  burning. 
[In  the  original  copy  there  is  a  blank  where  the  word  Nero  is 
now  placed.] 

7.  The  spirit  of  deep  prophecy  she  hath, 
Exceeding  the  nine  Sybils  of  old  Rome. 

8.  A  witch,  by  fear,  not  force,  like  Hannibal, 
Drives  back  our  troops — . 

9.  Divinest  creature,  Astrsea's  daughter—. 
10. Adonis'  gardens, 

That  one  day  bloom'd,  and  fruitful  were  the  next. 
1 1 .  A  statelier  pyramis  to  her  I'll  rear. 

Than  Rhodope's,  or  Memphis',  ever  was. 
12. an  urn  more  precious 

Than  the  rich-jewel'd  coffer  of  Darius. 
13.  I  shall  as  famous  be  by  this  exploit. 

As  Scythian  Thomyris,  by  Cyrus'  death, 
li.  I  thought  I  should  have  seen  some  Hercules, 

A  second  Hector,  for  his  grim  aspect. 

15.  Nestor-like  aged,  in  an  age  of  care. 

16.  Then  follow  thou  thy  desperate  sire  of  Crete, 
Thou  Icarus. 

17.  Where  is  the  great  Alcides  of  the  field  ? 

18.  Now  am  I  like  that  proud  insulting  ship, 
That  Csesar  and  his  fortune  bare  at  once. 


composed  by  schoolboys  are  always  stuffed  with  a  tritical  parade 
of  literature,  such  as  is  found  in  antiquated  plays,  vsome  of  which, 
our  author,  while  yet  immature,  might  have  taken  for  his  model. 

Steevens. 
To   show  how  little  foundation   there  is   for  Mr.  Steevens's 
notion,  let  this  play  be  compared  with  our  author's  earliest  com- 
positions, The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,   and  the  Comedy  of 
Errors.     Bo  swell. 


560  DISSERTATION  ON 

19.  Is  Talbot  slain  ;  the  Frenchman's  only  scourge. 
Your  kingdom's  terror,  and  black  Nemesis  ? 

20.  Thou  may'st  not  wander  in  that  labyrinth  ; 
There  Minotaurs,  and  ugly  treasons  lurk. 

21.  See,  how  the  ugly  witch  doth  bend  her  brows. 
As  if,  with  Circe,  she  would  change  my  shape. 

22.  ■— — —  thus  he  goes. 

As  did  the  youthful  Paris  once  to  Greece ; 
With  hope  to  find  the  like  event  in  love. 

Of  particular  expressions  there  are  many  in  this  play,  that  seem 
to  me  more  likely  to  have  been  used  by  the  authors  already 
named,  than  by  Shakspeare  ;  but  I  confess,  with  Dr.  Johnson, 
that  single  words  can  conclude  little.  However,  I  will  just  men- 
tion that  the  words  proditor  and  immnnity,  which  occur  in  this 
piece,  are  not,  I  believe,  found  in  any  of  Shakspeare's  undisputed 
performances. 

The  versification  of  this  play  appears  to  me  clearly  of  a  different 
colour  from  that  of  all  our  author's  genuine  dramas,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  resembles  that  of  many  of  the  plays  produced  before 
the  time  of  Shakspeare. 

In  all  the  tragedies  written  before  his  time,  or  just  when  he 
commenced  author,  a  certain  stately  march  of  versification  is  very 
observable.  The  sense  concludes  or  pauses  almost  uniformly  at 
the  end  of  every  line  ;  and  the  verse  has  scarcely  ever  a  redundant 
syllable.  As  the  reader  may  not  have  any  of  these  pieces  at  hand, 
(by  the  possession  of  which,  however,  his  library  would  not  be 
much   enriched,)   I   shall  add   a  few  instances, — the  first  that 


occur 


"  Most  loyal  lords,  and  faithful  followers, 

"  That  have  with  me,  unworthy  general, 

*'  Passed  the  greedy  gulph  of  Ocean, 

"  Leaving  the  confines  of  fair  Italy, 

"  Behold,  your  Brutus  draweth  nigh  his  end. 

"  And  I  must  leave  you,  though  against  my  will. 

"  My  sinews  shrink,  my  numbed  senses  fail, 

"  A  chilling  cold  possesseth  all  my  bones  ; 

"  Black  ugly  death,  with  visage  pale  and  wan, 

"  Presents  himself  before  my  dazzled  eyes, 

*'  And  with  his  dart  prepared  is  to  strike." 

Locrine,  1595. 
"  My  lord  of  Gloucester,  and  lord  Mortimer, 
*'  To  do  you  honour  in  your  sovereign's  eyes, 
"  That,  as  we  hear,  is  newly  come  aland, 
"  From  Palestine,  with  all  his  men  of  war, 
*'  (The  poor  remainder  of  the  royal  fleet, 
"  Preserv'd  by  miracle  in  Sicil  road,) 
*'  Go  mount  your  coursers,  meet  him  on  the  way  ; 
"  Pray  him  to  spur  his  steed,  minutes  and  hours, 


KING  HENRY  VI.  561 

"  Untill  his  mother  see  her  princely  son, 
"  Shining  in  glory  of  his  safe  return." 

Edward  I.  by  George  Peele,  1593. 
•'  Then  go  thy  ways,  and  clime  up  to  the  clouds, 
**  And  tell  Apollo  that  Orlando  sits 
"  Making  of  verses  for  Angelica. 
"  And  if  he  do  deny  to  send  me  down 
"  The  shirt  which  Deianira  sent  to  Hercules, 
"  To  make  me  brave  upon  my  wedding  day, 
"  Tell  him  lil  pass  the  Alps,  and  up  to  Meroe, 
•'  (I  know  he  knows  that  watry  lakish  hill) 
'*  And  pull  the  harp  out  of  the  minstrels  hands, 
*'  And  pawne  it  unto  lovely  Proserpine, 
"  That  she  may  fetch  the  faire  Angelica." 

Orlando  Furioso,  by  Robert  Greene,  printed  in 
1.599 ;  written  before  1592. 
"  The  work  that  Ninus  rear'd  at  Babylon, 
"  The  brazen  walls  fram'd  by  Semiramis, 
"  Carv'd  out  like  to  the  portal  of  the  sunne, 
'*  Shall  not  be  such  as  rings  the  English  strand 

"  From  Dover  to  the  market-place  of  Rye." 

*  *  -x- 

"  To  plain  our  questions,  as  Apollo  did." 

*  *  * 

"  Facile  and  debonaire  in  all  his  deeds, 
"  Proportion'd  as  was  Paris,  when  in  gray, 

"  He  courted  Oenon  in  the  valebv  Troy." 

*  *  '* 

"  Who  dar  d  for  Edward's  sake  cut  through  the  seas, 

"  And  venture  as  Agenor's  damsel  through  the  deepe," 

*  *  * 

"  England's  rich  monarch,  brave  Plantagenet, 
"  The  Pyren  mountains  swelling  above  the  clouds, 
"  That  ward  this  wealthy  Castile  in  with  walls, 
"  Could  not  detain  the  beauteous  Eleanor; 
"  But  hearing  of  the  fame  of  Edward's  youth, 
"  She  dar'd  to  brave  Neptunus'  haughty  pride, 

"  And  brave  the  brunt  of  froward  Eolus." 

*  *  * 

"  Daphne,  the  damsel  that  caught  Phoebus  fast, 
"  And  lock'd  him  in  the  brightness  of  her  looks, 
"  Was  not  so  beauteous  in  Apollo's  eyes, 

"  As  is  fair  Margaret,  to  the  Lincoln  earl." 

*  *  * 

"  We  must  lay  plots  for  stately  tragedies. 

•'  Strange  comick  shews,  such  as  proud  Roscius 

"  Vaunted  before  the  Roman  emperours." 

*  *  * 

VOL.    XVIII.  2  o 


662  DISSERTATION  ON 

"  Lacy,  thou  can'st  not  shrovvd  thy  traitorous  thoughts, 
•'  Nor  cover,  as  did  Cassius,  all  his  wiles  ; 
"  For  Edward  hath  an  eye  that  looks  as  far 

"  As  Lynceus  from  the  shores  of  Greecia." 

*  *  * 

"  Pardon,  my  lord  :  If  Jove's  great  royalty 

"  Sent  me  such  presents  as  to  Danae ; 

"  If  Phoebus  tied  to  Latona's  webs, 

*'  Came  courting  from  the  beauty  of  his  lodge  ; 

"  The  dulcet  tunes  of  frolick  Mercurie, 

"  Nor  all  the  wealth  heaven's  treasury  affords 

"  Should  make  me  leave  lord  Lacy  or  his  love." 

*  *  * 

«  What  will  thou  do?— 
"  Shew  thee  the  tree  leav'dwith  refined  gold, 
"  Whereon  the  fearful  dragon  held  his  seate, 
"  That  watch'd  the  garden  call'd  Hesperides, 

"  Subdued  and  wonne  by  conquering  Hercules." 

*  *  * 

" Margaret, 


■&■■ 
"  That  overshines  our  damsels,  as  the  moone 

"  Darkens  the  brightest  sparkles  of  the  night." 
*  *  It 

*'  Should  Paris  enter  in  the  courts  of  Greece, 

"  And  not  lie  fetter'd  in  fair  Helen's  looks  ? 

"  Or  Phoebus  scape  those  piercing  amorists, 

"  That  Daphne  glanced  at  his  deitie? 

"  Can  Edward  then  sit  by  a  flame  and  freeze, 

"  Whose  heats  put  Hellen  and  fair  Daphne  down?  " 

The  Honourable  Historic  oj"  Friar  Bacon,  &c.  by  Robert 
Greene;  written  before  1592,  printed  in  1598. 

"  King.  Thus  far,  ye  English  Peers,  have  we  display'd 
"  Our  waving  ensigns  with  a  happy  war  ; 
"  Thus  nearly  hath  our  furious  rage  reveng'd 
"  My  daughter's  death  upon  the  traiterous  Scot ; 
"  And  now  before  Dunbar  our  camp  is  pitch'd, 
"  Which  if  it  yield  not  to  our  compromise, 
"  The  place  shall  furrow  where  the  palace  stood, 
"  And  fury  shall  envy  so  high  a  power, 
"  That  mercy  shall  be  banish'd  from  our  svvord. 

"  Doug.  What  seeks  the  English  king  ? 

•'  King.  Scot,  ope  those  gates,  and  let  me  enter  in. 
"  Submit  thyself  and  thine  unto  my  grace, 
"  Or  I  will  put  each  mother's  son  to  death, 
"  And  lay  this  city  level  with  the  ground." 

James  IV.  by  Robert  Greene,  printed  in  1598  ; 
written  before  1592. 

"  Valeria,  attend ;  I  have  a  lovely  bride 


KING  HENRY  VI.  563 

"  As  bright  as  is  the  heaven  chrystaline ; 
"  As  faire  as  is  the  milke-white  way  of  Jove, 
"  As  chaste  as  Phoebe  in  her  summer  sports, 
"  As  soft  and  tender  as  the  azure  downe 
"  That  circles  Citherea's  silver  doves  ; 
*'  Her  do  I  meane  to  make  mv  lovelv  bride, 
"  And  in  her  bed  to  breathe  the  sweet  content 
"  That  I,  thou  know'st,  longtime  have  aimed  at." 

The  Taming  of  a  Shreiv,  written  before  159i. 

"  Pol.  Faire  Emilia,  summers  bright  sun  queene, 
"  Brighter  of  hew  than  is  the  burning  clime 
"  Where  Phoebus  in  his  bright  equator  sits, 
"  Creating  gold  and  pretious  minerals, 
"  What  would  Emilia  doe,  if  I  were  fond 
"  To  leave  faire  Athens,  and  to  range  the  world  ? 

"  Emil.  Should  thou  assay  to  scale  the  seate  of  Jove, 
"  Mounting  the  subtle  airie  regions, 
"  Or  be  snacht  up,  as  erst  was  Ganimede, 
•'  Love  should  give  wings  unto  my  swift  desires, 
"  And  prune  my  thoughts,  that  I  would  follow  thee, 
"  Or  fall  and  perish  as  did  Icarus."     Ibid. 
**  Barons  of  England,  and  my  noble  lords, 
"  Though  God  and  fortune  hath  bereft  from  us 
"  Victorious  Richard,  scourge  of  infidels, 
"  And  clad  this  land  in  stole  of  dismal  hue, 
"  Yet  give  me  leave  to  joy,  and  joy  you  all, 
"  That  from  this  wombe  hath  sprung  a  second  hope, 
''  A  king  that  may  in  rule  and  virtue  both 
*'  Succeed  his  brother  in  his  emperie." 

The  troublesome  Raig7ie  of  King  John,  1591. 
"  — —  as  sometimes  Phaeton, 
"  Mistrusting  silly  Merops  for  his  sire — ."     Ibid. 
"  As  cursed  Nero  with  his  mother  did, 
'•'  So  I  with  you,  if  you  resolve  me  not."     Ibid. 

*  *  * 

"  Peace,  Arthur,  peace  !  thy  mother  makes  thee  wings, 

"  To  soar  with  peril  after  Icarus."     Ibid. 

"  How  doth  Alecto  whisper  in  my  ears, 

"  Delay  not,  Philip,  kill  the  villaine  straight."     Ibid. 

■K-  *  * 

"  Philippus  atavis  edite  regibus, 

"  What  saist  thou,  Philip,  sprung  of  ancient  kings, — 

"  Qmo  me  rapit  tempestas  ?"     Ibid. 

*  *  * 

"  Morpheus,  leave  here  thy  silent  ebon  cave, 
"  Besiege  his  thoughts  with  dismal  phantasies ; 
"  And  ghastly  objects  of  pale  threatning  Mors, 
"  Affright  him  every  minute  with  stern  looks."     Ibid. 

2  o  2 


534  DISSERTATION  ON 


"  Here  is  theransome  tliat  allaieshis  rage 

"  The  first  tVet'hoki  tliat  Richard  left  his  sonne, 

*'  With  which  1  shall  surprize  his  living  spies, 

'•  As  Hector's  statue  did  the  tainting  Greeks."     Ibid. 

*  *  * 

"  This  cursed  country,  where  the  traitors  breathe, 

"  Whose  perjurie  (as  proud  Briareus) 

"  Beleaguers  all  the  skv  with  misbelief."     Ihul. 

•'  Must  Constance  speak  ?  let  tears  prevent  her  talk. 
"  Must  I  discourse?  let  Dido  sigh,  and  say, 

"  She  weeps  again  to  hear  the  wrack  of  Troy."     Ibid. 

*  *  * 

"  John,  'tis  thy  sins  that  n^ake  it  miserable, 

"  Qnicqiiid  delirant  reges,  plectuntur  Achivi."     Ibid. 

*  *  * 

"  King.  Robert  of  Artoys,  banish'd  though  thou  be, 
"  From  France,  thy  native  country,  yet  with  us 
"  Thou  shalt  retain  as  great  a  signorie, 
"  For  we  create  thee  earle  of  Richmond  here  : 
"  And  now  go  forwards  with  our  pedigree  ; 
"  Who  next  succeeded  Philip  of  Bew? 

"  Art.  Three  sonnes  of  his,  which,  all  successfully, 
"  Did  sit  upon  their  father's  regal  throne ; 
*'  Yet  died,  and  left  no  issue  of  their  loynes. 

"  King.  But  was  my  mother  sister  unto  these  ? 
"  Art.  She  was,  my  lord,  and  only  Isabel 
"  Was  all  the  daughters  that  this  Philip  had." 

'J^ie  Rctigne  of  King  Edward  III.  1596. 
The  tragedies  of  Marius  and  Sylla,  byT.  Lodge,  1594',  .\  Look- 
ing Glass  for  London  and  England,  by  T.  Lodge  and  R.  Greene, 
L598,  Solyman  and  Perseda,  written  before  1792,  Selimus,  Em- 
perour  of  the  Turks,  1594',  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1592,  and  Titus 
Andronicus,  will  all  furnish  examples  of  a  similar  versification  ; 
a  versification  so  exactly  corresponding  with  that  of  the  First  Part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  and  The  Whole  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses 
of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  as  it  originally  appeared,  that  I  have 
no  doubt  these  plays  were  the  production  of  some  one  or  other  of 
the  authors  of  the  pieces  above  quoted  or  enumerated. 

A  passage  in  a  pamjjhlet  written  by  Thomas  Nashe,  an  intimate 
friend  of  Greene,  Peele,  &c.  shows  that  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henrv  VI.  had  been  on  the  stao:e  before  1592  ;  and  his  favourable 
mention  of  this  piece  inclines  me  to  believe  that  it  was  written  by 
a  friend  of  his,  "  How  would  it  have  joyed  brave  Talbot,  (says 
Nashe  in  Pierce  Pennilesse  his  Supplication  to  the  Devil,  1592,) 
the  ter  or  of  the  French,  to  thinke  that  after  he  had  lyen  two  hun- 
dred yt  are  in  his  tombe,  he  should  triumph  again  on  tlie  stage ; 
and  have  his  bones  new  embalmed  with  the  teares  often  thousand 


KING  HENRY  VI.  565 

spectators  at  least,  (at  several  times)  who  in  the  tragedian  that  re- 
presents his  person  behold  him  fresh  bleeding." 

This  passage  was  several  years  ago  pointed  out  by  my  friend 
Dr.  Farmer,  as  a  proof  of  the  hypothesis  which  I  am  now  endea- 
vouring to  establish.  That  it  related  to  the  old  play  of  King- 
Henry  VI.  or,  as  it  is  now  called,  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 
cannot,  I  think,  be  doubted.  Talbot  appears  in  the  First  part, 
and  not  in  the  second  or  third  part ;  and  is  expressly  spoken  of  in 
the  play,  (as  well  as  in  Hall's  Chronicle,)  as  "  the  terror  of  the 
French."  Holinshed,  who  was  Shakspeare's  guide,  omits  the 
passage  in  Hall,  in  which  Talbot  is  thus  described ;  and  this  is  an 
additional  proof  that  this  play  was  not  our  author's.  But  of  this 
more  hereafter. 

The  First  Part  of  King  Heniy  VI.  (as  it  is  now  called)  furnishes 
us  with  other  internal  proofs  also  of  its  not  being  the  work  of 
Shakspeare. 

1.  The  author  of  that  play,  whoever  he  was,  does  not  seem  to 
have  known  precisely  how  old  Henry  the  Sixth  was  at  the  time  of 
his  father's  death.     He  opens  his  play  indeed  with  the  funeral  of 
Henry  the  Fifth,  but  no  where  mentions  expressly  the  young 
king's  age.     It  is  clear,  however,   from  one  passage,  that  he  sup- 
posed him  to  have  passed  the  state  of  infancy  before  he  lost  his 
father,    and   even  to  have  remembered  some  of  his  sayings.     In 
the  fourth  Act,  Sc.  IV.  speaking  of  the  famous  Talbot,  he  says  : 
•'  When  /  xjoas  young  (as  yet  I  am  not  old,) 
"  I  do  remember  hoiv  7ni/JJit/ier  said, 
"  A  stouter  champion  never  handled  sword  " 
But  Shakspeare,  as  appears  from  two  passages,  one  in  the  second, 
and  the  other  in  the    Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.   knew  that 
that  king  could  not  possibly  remember  any  thing  his  father  had 
said ;  and  therefore  Shakspeare  could  not  have  been  the  author  of 
the  Ji?'st  part. 

"  No  sooner  was  I  crept  out  of  my  cradle, 
"  But  I  was  made  a  king  at  7iine  months  old." 

King  Henri/  VI.  Part  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  IX. 
"  When  I  wfvs  crown'd,  I  was  but  nine  months  old." 

King  Henri/  VI.  Part  HI.  Act  I.  Sc.  I. 
The  first  of  these  passages  is  found  in  the  folio  copy  of  The  Se- 
cond Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  not  in  The  First  Part  of  the 
Contention,  &c.  printed  in  quarto  ;  and  according  to  my  hypo- 
thesis, was  one  of  Shakspeare's  additions  to  the  old  play.  This 
therefore  does  not  prove  that  the  or/o-/»rt/ author,  whoever  he  was, 
was  not  likewise  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. ; 
but,  what  is  more  m.aterial  to  our  present  question,  it  proves  that 
Shakspeare  could  not  be  the  author  of  that  play.  The  second  of 
these  passages  is  found  in  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of 
Yorke,  &c.  and  is  a  decisive  proof  that  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  was  written  neither  by  the  author  of  that  tragedy,  nor 
by  Shakspeare. 


5Q6  DISSERTATION  ON 

2.  A  second  internal  proof  that  Shakspeare  was  not  the  author 
of  the  Jirst  part  of  these  three  plays,  is  furnished  by  that  scene, 
(Act  II.  Sc.  V.  p.  75,  n.  3,)  in  which  it  is  said,  that  the  Earl  of 
Cambridge  raised  an  army  against  his  sovereign.  But  Shak- 
speare in  his  play  of  King  Henry  V.  has  represented  the  matter 
truly  as  it  was  ;  the  Earl  being  in  the  second  Act  of  that  histori- 
cal piece  condemned  at  Southampton  for  conspiring  to  assassinate 
Henry. 

3.  I  may  likewise  add,  that  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  knew  the  true  pronunciation  of  the  word  Hecate,  and 
has  used  it  as  it  is  used  by  the  Roman  writers  : 

"  I  speak  not  to  that  railing  Heca-te." 
But  Shakspeare  in  his  Macbeth  always  uses  Hecate  as  a  dissyl- 
lable ;   and  therefore  could  not  have  been  the  author  of  the  other 
piece  *.  .     


*  It  may  perhaps  appear  a  minute  remark,  but  I  cannot  help 
observing  that  the  second  speech  in  this  play  ascertains  the  writer 
to  have  been  very  conversant  with  Hall's  Chronicle  : 

"  What  should  I  saij  f?  his  deeds  exceed  all  speech." 
•  This  phrase  is  introduced  on  almost  every  occasion  by  that  wri- 
ter, when  he  means  to  be  eloquent.  Holinshed,  and  not  Hall, 
was  Shakspeare's  historian  (as  has  been  already  observed)  ; 
this  therefore  is  an  additional  proof  that  this  play  was  not  our  au- 
thor's. 

"  —  Shakspeare  in  his  Macbeth  always  uses  Hecate  as  a  dissyl- 
lable ;  and  therefore  could  not  have  been  the  author  of  the  other 
piece."  By  similar  reasoning  we  might  infer  that  Shakspeare  was 
not  author  of  The  Tempest ;  for  in  this  play  Stephano  is  properly 
accented,  but  erroneously  \_Stephano~\  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  ; 
and  that  because  Prosper  occurs  in  one  scene,  and  Prospero  in 
another,  that  both  scenes  were  not  of  Sliakspeare's  composition. 
The  same  might  be  said  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  in  which  both 
Enoharbe  and  Enobarbiis  are  found.  This  argument  also  might 
lead  us  to  imagine  that  part  of  the  Iliad  which  passes  under  the 
name  of  Mr.  Pope,  was  not  in  reality  translated  by  him  ;  because 
in  one  book  we  have  Idomeneus,  MerTones,  and  CebrTones,  and  in 
another  Idomen,  Merlon,  and  Cebrlon.  Most  certainly,  both 
Shakspeare  and  Pope  occasionally  accommodated  their  proper 
names  to  the  structure  of  their  verses.  The  abbreviation — Hecat' 
is  therefore  no  proof  of  our  author's  ignorance  that  Hecate  was 
usually  a  trisyllable.     Steevens. 

t  "  What  should  I  say  ?  "   In  page  611  of  Mr.  Malone's  [former] 
edition  of  King  Richard  III.  vol.  vi.  this  phrase  occurs : 
"  What  shall  I  say  more  than  I  have  inferr'd  ?  " 

Steevens. 

The  passage  quoted  is  by  no  means  in  point.  In  Richard  III. 
a  question  is  asked  ;  and  the  words  are  not  as  in  Henry  VI.  merely 
expletives  used  by  the  v.'riter  as  a  rhetorical  {iourish.     Boswell. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  567 

Having  now,  as  I  conceive,  vindicated  Shakspeare  from  being 
tlie  writer  of  The  Fust  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  it  may  seem  un- 
necessary to  enquire  who  was  the  author ;  or  whether  it  was  the 
production  of  the  same  person  or  persons  who  wrote  the  two  pieces, 
entitled,  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &c. 
and  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  However, 
I  shall  add  a  word  or  two  on  that  point. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  author  of  the  play  last  named 
could  not  have  written  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  The  fol- 
lowing circumstances  prove  that  it  could  not  have  been  written  by 
the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention,  8ic.  supposing  for 
a  moment  that  piece,  and  The  true  Tragedie  of  the  Duke  of 
Yorke,  &c.  to  have  been  the  work  of  difierent  hands. 

1 .  The  writer  of  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention,  &c.  makes 
Salisbury  say  to  Richard  Duke  of  York,  that  the  person  from 
whom  the  Duke  derived  his  title,  (he  means  his  maternal  uncle 
Edmund  Mortimer,  though  he  ignorantly  gives  him  a  different 
appellation,)  was  "  done  to  death  by  that  monstrous  rebel  Owen 
Glendower  ;"  and  Shakspeare  in  this  has  followed  him  : 

"  Sal.  This  Edmund,  in  the  reign  of  Bolingbroke, 

"  As  I  have  read,  laid  claim  unto  the  crown  ; 

"  And,  but  for  Owen  Glendower,  had  been  king, 

"  Who  kept  him  in  captivity,  till  he  died." 
On  this  false  assertion  the  Duke  of  York  makes  no  remark.  But 
the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  has  represented 
this  Edmund  Mortimer,  not  as  put  to  death,  or  kept  in  captivity 
to  the  time  of  his  death,  by  Owen  Glendower,  (who  himself  died 
in  the  second  year  of  King  Henry  V.)  but  as  a  stale  prisoner,  who 
died  in  the  Tower  in  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VI.  in  the  presence 
of  this  very  Duke  of  York,  who  was  then  only  Richard  Plantage- 
n€t  *. 

2.  A  correct  statement  of  the  issue  of  King  Edward  the  Third, 
and  of  the  title  of  Edmund  Mortimer  to  the  crown,  is  given  in  The 
First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  But  in  the  First  Part  of  the  Con- 
tention, &c.  we  find  a  very  incorrect  and  false  statement  of 
Edward's  issue,  and  of  the  title  of  Mortimer,  whose  father,  Roger 
Mortimer,  the  author  of  that  piece  ignorantly  calls  the  Jifth  son 
of  that  monarch.  Those  two  plays  therefore  could  not  have  been 
the  work  of  one  hand. 

On  all  these  grounds  it  appears  to  me  clear,  that  neither  Shak- 
speare, nor  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention,  &c.  or 
The  true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  could  have  been 
the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 

It  is   observable   that  in   The  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King 


*  See  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  p.  77,   and  the  Second 
Part,  p.  217. 


568  DISSERTATION  ON 

Henry  VI.  many  thoughts  and  many  modes  of  expression  are 
found,  which  likewise  occur  in  Shakspeare's  other  dramas:  but  in 
the  First  Part  I  recollect  but  one  marked  expression,  that  is  also 
found  in  one  of  his  undisputed  performances  : 

"  As  I  am  sick  with  working  of  my  thoughts^ 
So,  in  King  Henry  V. : 

"  Work,  tvork  your  thoughts,  and  therein  see  a  siege." 
But  surely  this  is  too  slight  a  circumstance  to  overturn  all  the 
other  arguments  that  have  now  been  urged  to  prove  this  play  not 
the  production  of  our  author.  The  co-incidence  might  be  acci- 
dental, for  it  is  a  co- incidence  not  of  thought  but  of  language  ; — 
or  the  expression  might  have  remained  in  his  mind  in  consequence 
of  his  having  often  seen  this  play  ;  (we  know  that  he  has  bor- 
rowed many  other  expressions  from  preceding  writers  ;) — or  lastly, 
this  might  have  been  one  of  the  very  few  lines  that  he  wrote  on 
revising  this  piece  ;  which,  nowever  few  they  were,  might,  with 
other  reasons,  have  induced  the  first  publishers  of  his  works  in 
folio  to  print  it  with  the  second  and  third  part,  and  to  ascribe  it  to 
Shakspeare. 

Before  I  quit  this  part  of  the  subject,  it  may  be  proper  to  men- 
tion one  other  circumstance  that  renders  it  very  improbable  that 
Shakspeare  should  have  been  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  K. 
Henry  VI.     In  this  play,  though  one  scene  is  entirely  in  rhyme, 
there  are  very  few  rhymes  dispersed  through  the  piece,    and  no 
alternate  rhymes  ;  both  of  which  abound   in  our  author's  undis- 
puted early  plays.     This  observation  indeed  may  likewise  be  ex- 
tended to  the  second  and  third  part  of  these   historical   dramas  ; 
and  perhaps  it  may  be  urged,    that    if  this  argument  has  any 
weight,  it  will  prove  that    lie  had  no  hand  in  the  composition  of 
those  plays.     But  there  being  no  alternate  rhymes  in   those  two 
plays  may  be  accounted  for,  by  recollecting  that  in  1591,  Shak- 
speare had  not  written  his  Venus  and  Adonis,  or  his  Rape  of  Lu- 
crece  ;  the  measures  of  which  perhaps  insensibly  led  him  to  em- 
ploy a  similar  kind  of  metre  occasionally  in  the  dramas  that  he 
wrote  shortly  after  he  had  composed  those  poems.     The  paucity 
of  regular  rhymes  must  be  accounted  for  differently.     My  solu- 
tion is,  that  working  up  the  materials  which  were  furnished  by  a 
preceding  writer,  he  naturally  followed  his  mode  :  and  in  the  ori- 
ginal plays  from  which  these  two  were  formed  very  few  rhymes 
are  found.     Nearly  the  same  argument  will   apply  to  the  first 
part ;  for  its   date  also,   were  that  piece  Shakspeare's,  would  ac- 
count for  the  want  of  alternate  rhymes.     The  paucity  of  regular 
rhymes  indeed  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  saying  that  here  too 
our  author  was  following  the  track  of  another  poet  ;  but  the  solu- 
tion is  unnecessary;  for  from   the  beginning  to  the  end  of  that 
play,  except  perhaps  in  some  scenes  of  the  fourth  Act,  there  is  not 
a  single  print  of  the  footsteps  of  Shakspeare. 

I  have  already  observed,  that  it  is  highly  imi)robable  that  The 


KING  HENRY  VI.  569 

First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  of  York  find  Lan- 
caster, &c.  and  The  true  Tragedie  of"  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke, 
&c.  were  written  by  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  By  whom  these  two  phiys  were  written,  it  is  not  here 
necessary  to  inquire  ;  it  is  sufficient,  if  probable  reasons  can  be 
produced  for  supposing  this  two-part  piece  not  to  have  been  the 
composition  of  Shakspeare,  but  the  work  of  some  preceding  writer, 
on  which  he  formed  those  two  plays  which  appear  in  the  first 
folio  edition  of  his  works,  comprehending  a  period  of  twenty-six 
years,  from  the  time  of  Henry's  marriage  to  that  of  his  death. 

II.  I  now  therefore  proceed  to  state  my  opinion  concerning  The 
Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 

"  A  book  entituled,  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the 
Two  famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  with  the  Death  of 
the  good  Duke  Humphrie,  and  the  Banishment  and  Deathe  of  the 
Duke  of  Yorke,  and  the  tragical  Ende  of  the  proud  Cardinal  of 
Winchester,  with  the  notable  Rebellion  of  Jack  Cade,  and  the 
DukeofYorke's  first  Claime  unto  the  Crowne,  was  entered  at 
Stationers'  Hall,  by  Thomas  Millington,  March  12,  159.S-4-.  The 
true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke,  and  the  Death  of  good 
King  Henry  the  Sixt,  &c.  (on  which  Shakspeare's  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  is  founded)  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  at  the 
same  time.  They  were  printed,  as  I  have  before  observed,  sepa- 
rately, in  1594  and  1595;  and  reprinted  together  for  the  same 
person,  T.  Millington,  in  1600  *. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  us  in  this  entry  is,  that  the  name  of 
Shakspeare  is  not  mentioned,  nor  is  it  in  the  early  editions  ;  nor, 
when  the  two  plays  were  published  in  1600,  did  the  printer 
ascribe  them  to  our  author  in  the  title-page,  (though  his  reputa- 
tion was  then  at  the  highest,)  as  surely  as  he  would  have  done, 
had  they  been  his  compositions. 

In  a  subsequent  edition  indeed  of  the  same  pieces,  printed  by 
one  Pavier,  without  date,  but  in  reality  in  1619,  after  our  great 
poet's  death,  the  name  of  Shakspeare  appears  ;  but  this  was  a 
bookseller's  trick,  founded  upon  our  author's  celebrity  ;  on  his 
having  new-modelled  these  plays  ;  and  on  the  proprietors  of  the 
Globe  and  Blackfriars'  theatre  "not  having  published  Shakspeare's 
Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  The  very  same  de- 
ception was  practised  with  respect  to  King  John.  The  old  play 
(written  perhaps  by  the  same  person  who  was  the  author  of  The 
Contention  of  the  Two  famous  Houses.  &c.)  was  printed  in  1591, 
like  that  piece,  a?zoHj/»?o2«(y.   In  1611,  (Shakspeare's  King  John, 


*  They  were  probably  reprinted  in  1600,  because  Shakspeare's 
alterations  of  them  were'then  populnr,  as  King  Leir  and  his  Three 
Daughters  was  printed  in  1605,  because  our  author's  play  was 
probably  at  that  time  first  produced. 


570  DISSERTATION  ON 

founded  on  the  same  story,  having  been  probably  often  acted  and 
admired,)  the  old  piece  in  two  parts  was  reprinted  ;  and,  in  order 
to  deceive  the  purchaser,  was  said  in  the  title-page  to  be  written 
by  IV.  Sh.  A  subsequent  printer  in  1622  grew  more  bold,  and 
affixed  Shakspeare's  name  to  it  at  full  length. 

It  is  observable  that  Millington,  the  bookseller,  by  whom  The 
First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  famous  Houses,  &c.  was 
entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  in  1593-4,  and  for  whom  that  piece 
and  The  Tragedie  of  the  Duke  of  York,  &c.  were  printed,  was 
not  the  proprietor  of  any  one  of  Shakspeare's  undisputed  plays, 
except  King  Henry  V.  of  which  he  published  a  spurious  copy, 
that,  I  think,  must  have  been  imperfectly  taken  down  in  short 
hand  in  the  play-house. 

The  next  observable  circumstance,  with  respect  to  these  two 
quarto  plays,  is,  that  they  a'-e  said,  in  their  title-pages,  to  have 
been  "  sundry  times  acted  by  the  earle  of  Pembrooke  his  ser- 
vantes."  Titus  Andronicus  and  The  old  Taming  of  a  Shrew,  were 
acted  by  the  same  company  of  comedians ;  but  not  one  of  our 
author's  plays  is  said,  in  its  title-page,  to  have  been  acted  by  any 
but  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  or  the  Queen's,  or  King's  servants  *. 
This  circumstance,  alone,  in  my  opinion,  might  almost  decide  the 
question. 

This  much  appears  on  the  first  superficial  view  of  these  pieces  ; 
but  the  passage  quoted  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  from  an  old  pamphlet,  en- 
titled Greene's  Groatsworth  of  Witte,  &c,  affords  a  still  more  de- 
cisive support  to  the  hypothesis  that  I  am  endeavouring  to  main- 
tain ;  which,  indeed,  that  pamphlet  first  suggested  tome.  As  this 
passage  is  the  chief  hinge  of  my  argument,  though  it  has  already 
been  printed  in  a  preceding  page,  it  is  necessary  to  lay  it  again 
before  the  reader. — "  Yes,"  says  the  writer,  Robert  Greene,  (ad- 
dressing himself,  as  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  conjectures  with  great  probabi- 
lity, to  his  poetical  friend,  George  Peele,)  "trust  them  [the 
players]  not ;  for  there  is  an  upstart  crowe  beautified  with  our 
FEATHERS,  that  with  his  tygres  heart  tvrnpt  in  n  plaijefs  hide 
supposes  hee  is  as  well  able  to  bombaste  out  a  blank  verse  as  the 
best  of  you  ;  and  being  an  absolute  Johannes  fac  totum,  is,  in  his 
own  conceit,  the  only  Shake-scene  in   a  country." — "  O  tyger's 


*  The  first  edition  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  1597,  is  said  in  its 
title-page  to  have  been  acted  "  By  the  right  honourable  the  L.  of 
Hunsdon  his  servants."     Steevens. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Mr.  Steevens  wrote  this  note  in  a  moment 
of  forgetful ness,  and  that  he  did  not  intend  to  mislead  the  reader 
by  what  is  only  a  seeming  contradiction  to  what  is  stated  by  Mr. 
Malone,  that  our  author's  plays  were  only  acted  by  the  Lord 
Chamberlain's,  or  the  Queen's,  or  King's  servants :  Lord  Huns- 
don was  Lord  Chamberlain.  lioswELX.. 
6 


KING  HENRY  VI.  571 

heart,  wrapt  in  a  woman's  hide  !  "  is  a  line  of  the  old  quarto  play, 
entitled  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &'c. 
That  Shakspeare  was  here  alluded  to,  cannot,  I  think,  be 
doubted.  But  what  does  the  writer  mean  by  calling  him  "  a 
crow  beautified  with  our  feathers  ?  "  My  solution  is,  that  Greene 
and  Peele  were  the  joint  authors  of  the  two  quarto  plays,  entitled 
The  first  part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  famous  Houses  of 
Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde 
Duke  of  Yorke,  &c,  or  that  Greene  was  the  author  of  one,  and 
Peele  of  the  other.  Greene's  pamphlet,  from  whence  the  fore- 
going passage  is  extracted,  was  written  recently  before  his  death, 
which  happened  in  September,  1592.  How  long  he  and  Peele 
had  been  dramatick  writers,  is  not  precisely  ascertained.  Peele 
took  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  at  Oxford,  in  1579  :  Greene 
took  the  same  degree  in  Cambridge,  in  15S3.  Each  of  them  has 
left  four  or  five  plays,  and  they  wrote  several  others,  which  have 
not  been  published.  The  earliest  of  Peele's  printed  pieces,  The 
Arraignment  of  Paris,  appeared  in  1584^ ;  and  one  of  Greene's 
pamphlets  was  printed  in  1583.  Between  that  year  and  1591  it 
is  highly  probable  that  the  two  plays  in  question  were  written. 
I  suspect  they  were  produced  in  1.588  or  1589.  We  have  un- 
doubted proofs  that  Shakspeare  was  not  above  working  on  the 
materials  of  other  men.  His  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  his  King 
John,  and  other  plays,  render  any  arguments  on  that  point  unne- 
cessary. Having  therefore,  probably  not  long  before  the  year 
1592,  when  Greene  wrote  his  Dying  Exhortation  to  a  Friend, 
new-modelled  and  amplified  these  two  pieces,  and  produced  on 
the  stage  what,  in  the  folio  edition  of  his  works,  are  called  The 
Second  and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  having  acquired 
considerable  reputation  by  them,  Greene  could  not  conceal  the 
mortification  that  he  felt  at  his  own  fame  and  that  of  his  associate, 
both  of  them  old  and  admired  play-wrights,  being  eclipsed  by  a 
new  upstart  writer,  (for  so  he  calls  our  great  poet,)  who  had  then 
first,  perhaps,  attracted  the  notice  of  the  publick  by  exhibiting 
two  plays,  formed  upon  old  dramas  written  by  them,  considerably 
enlarged  and  improved.  He  therefore,  in  direct  terms,  charges 
him  with  having  acted  like  the  crow  in  the  fable,  beautified  him- 
self ivith  tlteir  Jealhers ;  in  other  words,  with  having  acquired 
iiimQ  flirt ivis  coloribiis,  by  new-modelling  a  work  originally  pro- 
duced by  them,  and  wishing  to  depreciate  our  author,  he  very 
naturally  quotes  a  line  from  one  of  the  pieces  which  Shakspeare 
had  thus  re-voritten  ;  a  proceeding  which  the  authors  of  the 
original  plays  considered  as  an  invasion  both  of  their  literary  pro- 
perty and  character.  This  line,  with  many  others,  Shaksjjeare 
adopted  without  any  alteration.  The  very  term  that  Greene  uses 
— "  to  bombast  out  a  blank  verse,"  exactly  corresponds  with  what 
has  been  now  suggested.  This  new  poet,  says  he,  knows  as  well 
as  any  man  how  to  amplifij  and  swell  out  a  blank  verse.     Bumbasi 


672  DISSERTATION  ON 

was  a  soft  stuff  of  a  loose  texture,  by  which  garments  were  rendered 
more  swelling  and  protuberant. 

Several  years  after  the  death  of  Boiardo,  Francesco  Berni  un- 
dertook to  new-versify  Boiardo's  poem,  entitled  Orlando  Innamo- 
rato.  "  Berni  (as  Baretti  observes)  was  not  satisfied  with  merely 
making  the  versification  of  that  poem  better;  he  interspersed  it 
with  many  stanzas  of  his  own,  and  changed  almost  all  the  begin- 
nings of  the  cantos,  introducing  each  of  them  with  some  moral 
reflection  arising  from  the  canto  foregoing."  What  Berni  did 
to  Boiardo's  poem  after  the  death  of  its  author,  and  more,  I  sup- 
pose Shakspeare  to  have  done  to  The  First  Part  of  the  Con- 
tention of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The 
true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  in  the  life  time 
of  Greene  and  Peele,  their  literary  parents  ;  and  this  lUfachnento 
(as  the  Italians  call  it)  of  th^se  two  plays  I  suppose  to  have  been 
executed  by  Shakspeare,  and  exhibited  at  the  Globe  or  Blackfriars 
theatre,  in  the  year  1591. 

I  have  said  Shakspeare  did  what  Berni  did,  and  more.  He 
did  not  content  himself  vi'ith  writing  new  beginnings  to  the  acts ; 
he  new-versified,  he  new-modelled,  he  transposed  many  of  the 
parts,  and  greatly  amplified  and  improved  the  whole.  Several 
lines,  however,  and  even  whole  speeches  which  he  thought  suf- 
ficiently polished,  he  accepted,  and  introduced  into  his  own  work, 
without  any,  or  with  very  slight,  alterations. 

In  the  present  edition,  all  those  lines  which  he  adopted  without 
any  alteration,  are  printed  in  the  usual  manner;  those  speeches 
which  he  altered  or  expanded,  are  distinguished  by  inverted 
commas  ;  and  to  all  the  lines  entirely  composed  by  himself,  aste- 
risks are  prefixed.  The  total  number  of  lines  in  our  author's 
Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  is  Six  Thousand  and 
Forty-three  :  of  these,  as  I  conceive,  1771  lines  were  written  by 
some  author  or  authors  who  preceded  Shakspeare ;  2373  were 
formed  by  him  on  the  foundation  laid  by  his  predecessors  ;  and 
1899  lines  were  entirely  his  own  composition. 

That  the  reader  may  have  the  whole  of  the  subject  before  him, 
I  shall  here  transcribe  the  fourth  scene  of  the  fourth  Act  of  The 
Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (which  happens  to  be  a  short  one,) 
together  with  the  corresponding  scene  in  the  original  play  ;  and 
also  a  speech  of  Queen  Margaret,  in  the  fifth  Act,  with  the 
original  speech  on  which  it  is  formed.  The  first  specimen  will 
serve  to  show  the  method  taken  by  Shakspeare,  where  he  only 
new-polished  the  language  of  the  old  play,  rejecting  some  part  of 
the  dialogue,  and  making  some  slight  additions  to  the  part  which 
he  retained  ;  the  second  is  a  striking  proof  of  his  facility  and 
vigour  of  composition,  which  has  happily  expanded  a  thought 
comprized  originally  in  a  very  short  speech,  into  thirty-seven 
lines,  none  of  which  appear  feeble  or  superfluous. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  573 


The   tkue   Tragedie   of   Richarde   Duke   of  Yorke,    &c. 

Sign.  F.  4-.  edit.  1600. 

Enter  the  Queene,  and  the  Lord  Rivers, 

Riv.  Tell  me,  good  madam, 
Why  is  your  grace  so  passionate  of  late. 

Queene.  Why  brother  Rivers,  heare  you  not  the  news 
Of  that  success  king  Edward  had  of  late  ? 

Riv.  What  ?  losse  of  some  pitcht  battaile  against  Warwick  ? 
Tush  ;  fear  not,  fair  queen,  but  cast  these  cares  aside. 
King  Edwards  noble  minde  his  honours  doth  display  ; 
And  Warwicke  may  lose,  though  then  he  got  the  day. 

Queene.  If  that  were  all,  my  griefes  were  at  an  end  ; 
But  greater  troubles  will,  I  feare,  befall. 

Riv.  What  ?  is  he  taken  prisoner  by  the  foe. 
To  the  danger  of  his  royal  person  then  ? 

Queene.  I,  there's  my  griefe  ;  king  Edward  is  surprisde. 
And  led  away  as  prisoner  unto  Yorke. 

Riv.  The  newes  is  passing  strange,   I  must  confesse  ; 
Yet  comfort  yourselfe,  for  Edward  hath  more  friends 
Than  Lancaster  at  this  time  must  perceive, — 
That  some  will  set  him  in  his  throne  aguine. 

Queene.  God  grant  they  may  !  but  gentle  brother,  come. 
And  let  me  leane  upon  thine  arm  a  while, 
Until  I  come  unto  the  sanctuarie  ; 
There  to  preserve  the  fruit  within  my  womb, 
King  Edwards  seed,  true  heir  to  Englands  crowne.  lExeunt. 


King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  IV.  Scene  IV. 

Enter  the  Queen  and  Rivers. 

Riv.  Madam,  what  makes  you  in  this  sudden  change? 

Queen.  Why,  brother  Rivers,  are  you  yet  to  learn, 
What  late  misfortune  is  befall'n  king  Edward  ? 

Riv.  What,  loss  of  some  pitch'd  battle  against  Warwick  ? 

Queen.  No,  but  the  loss  of  his  own  royal  person. 

Riv.  Then  is  my  sovereign  slain  ? 

Queen.  Ay,  almost  slain,  for  he  is  taken  prisoner  ; 
Either  betray'd  by  falshood  of  his  guard. 
Or  by  his  foe  surpriz'd  at  unawares  : 
And,  as  I  further  have  to  understand. 
Is  new  committed  to  the  bishop  of  York, 
Fell  Warwick's  brother,  and  by  that  our  foe. 

Riv.  These  news,  I  must  confess,  are  full  of  grief; 
Yet,  gracious  madam,  bear  it  as  you  may ; 
Warwick  may  lose,  that  now  hath  won  the  day. 


574  DISSERTATION  ON 

Queen.  Till  then,  fair  hope  must  hinder  life's  decay. 
And  I  the  rather  wean  me  from  despair. 
For  love  of  Edward's  oflspring  in  my  womb  : 
This  is  it  that  makes  me  bridle  passion, 
And  bear  with  mildness  my  misfortune's  cross  ; 
Ay,  ay,  for  this  I  draw  in  many  a  tear. 
And  stop  the  rising  of  blood-sucking  sighs. 
Lest  with  my  sighs  or  tears  I  blast  or  drown 
King  Edwards  fruit,  true  heir  to  the  English  crown. 

Riv.  But,  madam,  where  is  Warwick  then  become  ? 

Queen.  I  am  informed,  that  he  comes  towards  London 
To  set  the  crown  once  more  on  Henry's  head  : 
Guess  thou  the  rest ;  king  Edward's  friends  must  down. 
But,  to  prevent  the  tyrant's  violence, 
(For  trust  not  him  that  once  hath  broken  faith,) 
I'll  hence  forthwith  unto  the  sanctuary. 
To  save  at  least  the  heir  of  Edward's  right ; 
There  shall  I  rest  secure  from  force,  and  fraud. 
Come  therefore,  let  us  fly,  while  we  may  fly  ; 
If  Warwick  take  us,  we  are  sure  to  die.  \_Exeunt. 


The    true   Tragedif,    of    Richarde    Duke    of   Yorke,    &c. 

Sign.  G.  4.  edit.  1600. 

Enter  the    Qiiecue,    Prince  Echvard,    Oxford,    Somerset,    xvith 

drumme  and  souldiers. 

Queen.  Welcome  to  England,  my  loving  friends  of  France  ; 
And  welcome  Somerset  and  Oxford  too. 
Once  more  have  we  spread  our  sailes  abroad  ; 
And  though  our  tackling  be  almost  consumde, 
And  Warwicke  as  our  main-mast  overthrowne. 
Yet,  warlike  lordes,  raise  you  that  sturdie  post. 
That  bears  the  sailes  to  bring  us  unto  rest ; 
And  Ned  and  I,  as  willing  pilots  should, 
For  once  with  careful  mindes  guide  on  the  sterne. 
To  bear  us  thorough  that  dangerous  gulfe. 
That  heretofore  hath  swallowed  up  our  friendes. 


King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  V.  Scene  IV. 

March.     Enter  Queen  Margaret,  Prince  Edward,  Somerset, 
Oxford,  and  Soldiers. 

Q.  Mar.  Great  lords,  wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 
But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 
What  though  the  mast  be  now  blown  over-board. 
The  cable  broke,  the  holding  anchor  lost. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  575 

And  half  our  sailors  swallow'd  in  the  flood  ? 

Yet  lives  our  pilot  still :  Is't  meet,  that  he 

Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad. 

With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea. 

And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much  ; 

Whiles,  in  his  moan,  the  ship  splits  on  the  rock. 

Which  industry  and  courage  might  have  sav'd  ? 

Ah,  what  a  shame  !  ah,  what  a  fault  were  this  ! 

Say,  Warwick  was  our  anchor  ;  What  of  that  ? 

And  Montague  our  top-mast ;  What  of  him  ? 

Our  slaughter'd  friends  the  tackles  ;  What  of  these? 

Why,  is  not  Oxford  here  another  anchor  ? 

And  Somerset  another  goodly  mast  ? 

The  friends  of  France  our  shrouds  and  tacklings  ? 

And,  though  unskilful,  why  not  Ned  and  I 

For  once  allow'd  the  skilful  pilot's  charge  ? 

We  will  not  from  the  helm,  to  sit  and  weep  ; 

But  keep  our  course,  though  the  rough  wind  say — no, 

From  shelves  and  rocks  that  threaten  us  with  wreck. 

As  good  to  chide  the  waves,  as  speak  them  fair. 

And  what  is  Edward,  but  a  ruthless  sea  ? 

What  Clarence,  but  a  quick-sand  of  deceit  ? 

And  Richard,  but  a  ragged  fatal  rock  ? 

All  these  the  enemies  to  our  poor  bark. 

Say,  you  can  swim  ;  alas,  'tis  but  awhile : 

Tread  on  the  sand  ;  why,  there  you  quickly  sink  : 

Bestride  the  rock  ;  the  tide  will  wash  you  off. 

Or  else  you  famish,  that's  a  threefold  death. 

This  speak  J,  lords,  to  let  you  understand. 

In  case  some  one  of  you  would  fly  from  us. 

That  there's  no  hop'd  for  mercy  with  the  brothers. 

More  than  with  ruthless  waves,  with  sands,  and  rocks. 

Why,  courage,  then  !  what  cannot  be  avoided, 

'Twere  childish  weakness  to  lament,  or  fear  *. 

If  the  reader  wishes  to  compare  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention 
of  the  Two  Houses,  &c.  with  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 
which  was  formed  upon  it,  he  will  find  various  passages  quoted 
from  the  elder  drama  in  the  notes  on  that  play.  The  two  cele- 
brated scenes,  in  which  the  dead  body  of  the  Duke  of  Gloster  is 
described,  and  the  death  of  Cardinal  Beaufort  is  represented, 
may  be  worth  examining  with  this  view ;  and  will  sufficiently 
ascertain  how  our  author  proceeded  in  new-modelling  that  play ; 


*  Compare  also  the  account  of  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  York 
(p.  405)  and  King  Henry's  soliloquy  (p.  4'31)  with  the  old  play 
as  quoted  in  the  notes. — Sometimes  our  author  new-versilied  the 
old,  witliout  the  addition  of  any  new  matter.     See  p.  496,  n.  7. 


576  DISSERTATION  ON 

with  what  expression,  animation,  and  splendour  of  colouring, 
he  filled  up  the  outline  that  had  been  sketched  by  a  preceding 
writer*. 

Shakspeare  having-  thus  given  celebrity  to  these  two  old  dramas, 
by  altering  and  writing  several  parts  of  them  over  again,  the 
bookseller,  Millington,  to  avail  himself  of  the  popularity  of 
the  new  and  admired  poet,  got,  perhaps  from  Peele,  who  was 
then  living,  or  from  the  author,  whoever  he  was,  or  from  some 
of  the  comedians  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  the 
original  play  on  which  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  was 
founded  ;  and  printed  it  either  with  a  view  to  lead  the  common 
reader  to  suppose  that  he  should  purchase  two  plays  as  altered  and 
new-modelled  by  Shakspeare,  or,  without  any  such  fraudulent 
intention,  to  derive  a  profit  from  the  exhibition  of  a  work  that  so 
great  a  writer  had  thought  proper  to  retouch,  and  form  into  those 
dramas  which  for  several  years  had  without  doubt  been  performed 
with  considerable  applause.  In  the  same  manner  the  old 
Taming  of  a  Shrew,  on  which  our  author  formed  a  play,  had 
been  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  I59i;  and  was  printed  in 
I607t,  without  doubt  with  a  view  to  pass  it  on  the  publick  as  the 
production  of  Shakspeare. 

When  William  Pavier  republished  The  Contention  of  the  Two 
Houses,  &c.  in  1619  :{:.  lie  omitted  the  words  in  the  original  title- 
page, — "  as  it  was  acted  by  the  earl  of  Pembrooke  his  servantes; " 
— ^justas,  on  the  republication  of  King  John  in  two  parts,  in  1611, 
the  words, — "  as  it  was  acted  in  the  honourable  city  of  London," — 
were  omitted;  because  the  omitted  words  in  both  cases  marked  the 
respective  pieces  not  to  be  the  production  of  Shakspeare  §.  And  as 
in  King  John  the  letters  W.  Sh.  were  added  in  1611  to  deceive 
the  purchaser,  so  in  the  republication  of  The  Whole  Contention, 
&c.  Pavier,  having  dismissed  the  words  above  mentioned:  inserted 
these,  "  Newly  corrected  and  enlarged  by  William  Shakspeare  ; " 
knowing  that  these  pieces  had  been  made  the  ground  work  of 


*  See  p.  262,  n.  6  ;  and  p.  276,  n.  8.  Compare  also  Cliftbrd's 
speech  to  the  rebels  in  p.  323,  Buckingham's  address  to  King 
Henry  in  p.  212,  and  Iden's  speech  in  p.  331,  with  the  old  play, 
as  quoted  in  the  notes. 

t  Also,  as  it  has  lately  been  discovered,  by  Cuthbert  Burbie,  in 
1596.     Reed. 

X  Pavier's  edition  has  no  date,  but  it  is  ascertained  to  have 
been  printed  in  1619,  by  the  signatures;  the  last  of  which  is 
Q.  The  play  of  Pericles  was  printed  in  1619,  for  the  same  book- 
seller, and  its^/irst  signature  is  R.  The  undated  copy,  therefore, 
of  The  Whole  Contention,  &c,  and  Pericles  must  have  been 
printed  at  the  same  time. 

§  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare's  Plays, 
vol.  ii.  article.  King  John. 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


577 


two  other  plays ;  that  they  had  in  fact  been  corrected  and  en- 
larged, (though  not  in  that  copy  which  Pavier  printed,  which  is  a 
mere  republication  from  the  edition  of  JGOO,)  and  exhibited  under 
the  titles  of  The  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. ; 
and  hoping  that  this  new  edition  of  the  original  plays  would  pass 
for  those  altered  and  augmented  by  Shakspeare,  which  were  then 
unpublished. 

If  Shakspeare  had  originally  written  these  three  plays  of  King 
Henry  VI.  would  they  not  probably  have  been  found  by  the  book- 
seller in  the  same  MS  ?     Would  not  the  three  parts  have  been 
procured,    whether    surreptitiously   or   otherwise,    all  together? 
\Vould  they  not  in  that  MS.  have  borne  the  titles  of  The  First 
and  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.?     And  would  not 
the  bookseller  have  entered  them  on  the  Stationers'  books,  and 
published  such  of  them  as  he  did  publish,  under  those  titles,  and 
with  the  name  of  Shakspeare  ?     On  the  other  hand,  if  that  which 
is  now  distinguished   by  the  name  of  The  First   Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.   but  which  I  suppose   in  those  times  was  only  called 
"  Tlse  Historical  Play  of  King  Henry  VI."  if  this  was  the  produc- 
tion of  some  old  dramatist,  if  it  had  appeared  on  the  stage  some 
years  before    1591,  (as  from  Nashe's  mention  of  it  seems  to  be 
implied,)  perhaps  in  15S7  or  1588,  if  its   popularity  was  in  1594' 
in  its  wane,  and  the  attention  of  the  publick  was  entirely  taken  up 
by  Shakspeare's  alteration  of  two  other  plays  which   had  likewise 
appeared  before  1591,  would  not  the  superior  popularity  of  these 
two  pieces,  altered  by  such  a  poet,  attract  the  notice  of  the  book- 
sellers ?  and  finding  themselves  unable  to  procure  them  from  the 
theatre,   would  they  not  gladly  seize  on  the  originals  on  which 
this  new  and  admired  writer  had  worked,  and  publish  them  as  soon 
as  they  could,  neglecting  entirely  the  preceding  old  play,  or  First 
Part  of  Hing  Henry  VT.  (as  it  is  now  called,)  which  Shakspeare  had 
not  embellished  with  his  pen  ? — Such,  as  we  have  seen,  was  ac- 
tually the  process  ;  for  Thomas  Millington,  neglecting  entirely 
The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  entered   the  original  of  The 
Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  1593-4, 
and  published  the  originals  of  both  that  and  The  Third  part  toge- 
ther in  1600.     When  Heminge  and  Condell  printed  these  three 
pieces  in  folio,  they  were  necessarily  obliged  to  name  the  old 
play  of  King  Henry  VI.  i\\^  Jirst  part,  to  distinguish  it  from   the 
two  following  historical  dramas,  founded  on  a  later  period  of  the 
same  king's  reign. 

Having  examined  such  external  evidence  as  time  has  left  us 
concerning  these  two  plays,  now  denominated  The  Second  and 
Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  let  us  see  whether  we  cannot  by 
internal  marks  ascertain  how  far  Shakspeare  was  concerned  in 
their  composition. 

It  has  long  been  a  received  opinion  that  the  tv.-o  quarto  plays, 
one  of  which  was  published  under  the  title  of  The  First  Part  of 

VOL.  XVIIT.  2  P 


578  DISSERTATION  ON 

the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c, 
anil  the  other  under  the  title  of  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde 
Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  were  spurious  and  imperfect  copies  of  Shak- 
speare's  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. ;  and  many 
passages  have  been  quoted  in  the  notes  to  the  late  editions  of 
Shakspeare,  as  containing  merely  the  various  readings  of  the 
quartos  and  the  folio  :  the  passages  being  supposed  to  be  in  sub- 
stance the  same,  only  variously  exhibited  in  different  copies. 
The  variations  have  been  accounted  for,  by  supposing  that  the 
im])erfect  and  spurious  copies  (as  they  were  called)  were  taken 
down  either  by  an  unskilful  short-hand  writer,  or  by  some  au- 
ditor who  picked  up  "  during  the  representation  what  the  time 
would  permit,  then  filled  up  some  of  his  omissions  at  a  second  or 
third  hearing,  and  when  he  had  by  this  method  formed  something- 
like  a  play,  sent  it  to  the  printer."  To  this  opinion,  I  with 
others  for  a  long  time  subscribed :  two  of  Heywood's  pieces  fur- 
nishing indubitable  proofs  that  plays  in  the  time  of  our  author 
were  sometimes  imperfectly  copied  during  the  representation,  by 
the  ear,  or  by  short-hand  writers  *.  But  a  minute  examination 
of  the  two  pieces  in  question,  and  a  careful  comparison  of  them 
with  SJiakspeare's  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. 
have  convinced  me  that  this  could  not  have  been  the  case  with 
respect  to  them.  No  fraudulent  copyist  or  short- hand  writer 
would  invent  circumstances  totally  different  from  those  which 
appear  in  Shakspeare's  new-modelled  draughts  as  exhibited  in  the 
first  folio  ;  or  insert  tvholc  speeches,  of  which  scarcely  a  trace  is 
found  in  that  edition.  In  the  course  of  the  foregoing  notes  many 
of  these  have  been  particularly  pointed  out.  I  shall  now  bring 
into  one  point  of  view  all  those  internal  circumstances  which 
prove  in  my  apprehension  decisively,  that  the  quarto  plays  were 
not  spurious  and  imperfect  copies  of  Shakspeare's  pieces,  but 
elder  dramas  on  which  he  formed  his  Second  and  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI. 

1.  In  some  places  a  speech  in  one  of  these  quartos  consists  of 
ten  or  twelve  lines.  In  Shakspeare's  folio  the  same  speech  con- 
sists of  perhaps  only  half  the  number  f.  A  copyist  by  the  ear,  or 
an  unskilful  short-hand  writer,  might  mutilate  and  exhibit  a  poet's 
thoughts  or  expressions  imperfectly  ;  but  would  he  dilate  and  am- 
plify them,  or  introduce  totally  new  matter  ?  Assuredly  he  would 
not. 

2.  Some  circumstances  are  mentioned  in  the  old  quarto  plays, 
of  which  there  is  not  the  least  trace  in  the  folio  ;  and  many 
minute  variations  are  found  between  them  and  the  folio,  that 
prove  the  pieces  in  quarto  to  have  been  original  and  distinct  com- 
positions. 

*  See  p.  549. 

t  See  p.  183,  n,  8  ;  p.  219,  n.  3. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  579 

In  the  last  Act  of  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention,  &c.  the 
puke  of  Buckingham  after  the  battle  of  Saint  Albans,  is  brought 
in  wounded,  and  carried  to  his  tent ;  but  in  Shakspeare's  play  he 
is  not  introduced  on  the  stage  after  that  battle. 

In  one  of  the  original  scenes  between  Jack  Cade  and  his  fol- 
lowers, which  Shakspeare  has  made  the  seventh  scene  of  the 
fourth  Act  of  his  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  Dick  Butcher 
drags  a  serjeant,  that  is,  a  catch-pole,  on  the  stage,  and  a  dia- 
logue consisting  of  seventeen  lines  passes  between  Cade,  &c.  at 
the  conclusion  of  which  it  is  determined  that  the  serjeant  shall  be 
"  brain'd  with  his  own  mace."  Of  this  not  one  word  appears  in 
our  author's  play  *.  In  the  same  piece  Jack  Cade,  hearing  that 
a  knight,  called  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford,  was  coming  at  the  head 
of  an  army  against  him,  to  put  himself  on  a  par  with  him  makes 
himself  a  knight  ;  and  finding  that  Stafford's  brother  was  also  a 
knight,  he  dubs  Dick  Butcher  also.  But  in  Shakspeare's  play  the 
latter  circumstance  is  omitted. 

In  the  old  play  Somerset  goes  out  immediately  after  he  is  ap- 
pointed regent  of  France.  In  Shakspeare's  Second  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  he  continues  on  the  stage  with  Henry  to  the  end  of  the 
scene,  (Act  I.  Sc.  III.)  and  the  King  addresses  him  as  they  go  out. 
In  the  old  play,  the  Duchess  of  Gloster  enters  with  Hume, 
Bolingbroke,  and  iMargery  Jourdain,  and  after  some  conversation 
with  them,  tells  them  that  while  they  perform  their  rites,  she  will 
go  to  the  top  of  an  adjoining  tower,  and  there  write  down  such  an- 
swers as  the  spirits,  that  they  are  to  raise,  shall  give  to  her  ques- 
tions. But  in  Shakspeare's  play,  Hume,  Southxveli  (who  is  not 
introduced  in  the  elder  drama),  and  Bolingbroke,  &c.  enter  with- 
out the  Duchess ;  and  after  some  conversation  the  Duchess  ap- 
pears above,  (that  is^  on  the  tower,)  and  encourages  them  to  pro- 
ceed f. 

In  Shakspeare's  play,  when  the  Duke  of  York  enters,  and  finds 
the  Duchess  of  Gloster,  &c.  and  her  co-adjutors  performing  their 
magick  rites,  (p.  201,)  the  Duke  seizes  the  paper  in  which  the 
answers  of  the  spirit  to  certain  questions  are  written  down,  and 
reads  them  aloud.  In  the  old  play  the  answers  are  not  here 
recited  by  York  ;  but  in  a  subsequent  scene  Buckingham  reads 
them  to  the  King;  (see  p.  201,  n.  7  ;  and  p.  212,  n.  1;)  and  this 
is  one  of  the  many  transpositions  that  Shakspeare  made  in  new- 
modelling  these  pieces,  of  which  I  shall  speak  more  fully  here- 
after. 

In  the  old  play,  when  the  King  pronounces  sentence  on  the 
Duchess  of  Gloster,  he  particularly  mentions  the    mode   of  her 


*  See  p.  320,  n.  4  ;  and  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention,  &c. 
1600,  sign.  G  3. 
t  Seep.  196,  n.  8. 

2  P  2 


580  DISSERTATION  ON 

penance  ;  and  the  sentence  is  pronounced  in  prose  :  "  Stand  forth 
dame  Eleanor  Cobham,  Duchess  of  Gloster,  and  hear  the  sen- 
tence pronounced  against  thee  for  these  treasons  that  thou  hast 
committed  against  us,  our  state  and  peers.  First,  for  thy  haynous 
crimes  thou  shalt  two  daies  in  London  do  penance  barefoot  in  the 
streets,  ivith  a  ivhite  sheete  about  thybodie,  and  a  tvax  taper  burn- 
ing in  thy  hand  :  that  done,  thou  shalt  be  banished  for  ever  into 
the  Isle  of  Man,  there  to  end  thy  wretched  daies  ;  and  this  is  our 
sentence  irrevocable. — Away  with  her."  But  in  Shakspeare's 
play,  (p.  220,)  the  King  pronounces  sentence  in  uerse  against  the 
Duchess  and  her  confederates  at  the  same  time  ;  and  only  says  in 
general,  that  "after  //^ree  days  open  penance,  she  shall  be  ba- 
nished to  the  Isle  of  Man." 

In  Shakspeare's  play,  (p.  248,)  when  the  Duke  of  York  under- 
takes to  subdue  the  Irish  rebels,  if  he  be  furnished  with  a  suffi- 
cient army,  Suffolk  says,  that  he  "will  see    that   charge   per- 
formed."    But  in  the  old  play  the  Queen   enjoins  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  to  attend  to  this  business,  and  he  accepts  the  office. 

In  our  author's  play  Jack  Cade  is  described  as  a  clothier,  in  the 
old  play  he  is  "  the  dyer  of  Ashford."  In  the  same  piece,  when 
the  King  and  Somerset  appear  at  Kenelworth,  a  dialogue  passes 
between  them  and  the  Queen,  of  which  not  one  word  is  preserved 
in  the  corresponding  scene  in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Heniy  VI. 
(p.  325.)  In  the  old  play,  Buckingham  states  to  the  King  the 
grounds  on  which  York  had  taken  up  arms  ;  but  in  Shakspeare's 
piece,  (p.  339,)  York  himself  assigns  his  reasons  for  his  conduct 

In  the  old  play  near  the  conclusion,  young  Clifford,  when  he  is 
preparing  to  carry  off  the  dead  body  of  his  father,  is  assaulted  by 
Richard,  and  after  putting  him  to  flight,  he  makes  a  speech  con- 
sisting of  four  lines.  But  in  Shakspeare's  play,  (p.  350,)  there 
is  no  combat  between  them,  nor  is  Richard  introduced  in  that 
scene.  The  four  lines  therefore  above  mentioned  are  necessarily 
omitted. 

In  the  old  play  the  Queen  drops  her  glove,  and  finding  the 
Duchess  of  Gloster  makes  no  attempt  to  take  it  up,  she  gives  her 
a  box  on  the  ear : 

"  Give  me  my  glove;  tvhy,  minion,  can  you  not  see?" 

But  in  Shakspeare's  play,  (p.  191,)  the  Queen  drops  not  a 
glove,  but  a.  fan  : 

*'  Give  me  my  fan  :    What,  minion,  can  you  not  ?  " 

In  Shakspeare's  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (p.  2S3,)  Suf- 
folk discovers  himself  to  the  Captain  who  had  seized  him,  by 
showing  his  George.  In  the  old  play  he  announces  his  quality  by 
a  ring,  a  seal  ring  we  may  suppose,  exhibiting  his  arms.  In  the 
same  scene  of  Shakspeare's  play,  he  observes  that  the  Captain 
threatens  more — 

"  Than  Bargrdus,  the  strong  Illyrian  pyrate." 

But  in  the  elder  drama  Suffolk  says,  he — 


KING  HENRY  Vl.  581 

"  Threatens  more  plagues  than  mighty  Abradas, 
"  The  great  Macedonian  pirate." 

In  the  same  scene  of  the  original  play  the  Captain  threatens  to 
sink  Suffolk's  ship  ;  but  no  such  menace  is  found  in  Shakspeare's 
play. 

In  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  Richard 
(afterwards  Duke  of  Gloster,)  informs  Warwick  that  \\\?,  father 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury  was  killed  in  an  action  which  he  describes, 
and  which  in  fact  took  place  at  Ferrybridge  in  Yorkshire.  But 
Shakspeare  in  his  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (p.  426,)  formed 
upon  the  piece  above  mentioned,  has  rightly  deviated  from  it,  and 
for  father  substituted  brother,  it  being  the  natural  brother  of 
Warwick,  (the  bastard  son  of  Salisbury,)  that  fell  at  Ferrybridge. 
The  Earl  of  Salisbury,  Warwick's  father,  was  beheaded  at  Pom- 
fret. 

In  the  same  old  play  a  son  is  introduced  who  has  killed  his 
father,  and  afterwards  a  father  who  has  killed  his  son.  King 
Heniy,  who  is  on  the  stage,  says  not  a  word  till  they  have  both 
appeared,  and  spoken  ;  he  then  pronounces  a  speech  of  seven 
lines.  But  in  Shakspeare's  play  (p.^S^,  n.  5,)  this  speech  is  enlarged, 
and  two  speeches  formed  on  it ;  the  first  of  which  the  King  speaks 
after  the  son  has  appeared,  and  the  other  after  the  entry  of  the 
father. 

In  our  author's  play,  (p.  480,)  after  Edward's  marriage  with 
Lady  Grey,  his  brothers  enter,  and  converse  on  that  event.  The 
King,  Queen,  &c.  then  join  them,  and  Edward  asks  Clarence  how 
he  approves  his  choice.  In  the  elder  play  there  is  no  previous 
dialogue  between  Gloster  and  Clarence  ;  but  the  scene  opens  with 
the  entry  of  the  King,  &c.  who  desires  the  opinion  of  his  brothers 
on  his  recent  marriage. 

In  our  author's  play  (p.  464,)  the  following  line  is  found  : 
"  And  set  the  murderous  Machiavel  to  school." 

This  line  in  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c. 
stood  thus  : 

"  And  set  the  aspiri)ig  Catiline  to  school." 

Catiline  was  the  person  that  would  naturally  occur  to  Peele  or 
Greene,  as  the  most  splendid  classical  example  of  inordinate  am- 
bition ;  but  Shakspeare,  who  was  more  conversant  with  P^nglish 
books,  substituted  Machiavel,  whose  name  was  in  such  frequent 
use  in  his  time  that  it  became  a  specifick  term  for  a  consummate 
politician ;  and  accordingly  he  makes  his  host  in  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  when  he  means  to  boast  of  his  own  shrewdness, 
exclaim,   "  Am  I  subtle?  am  I  a  Machiavel*  ?" 


*  Of  the  odium  attached  to  the  name  of  Machiavel,  we  have  an 
amusing  instance  in  Gill's  Logonomia  Anglica,    1621  :   "  Et  ne 


582  DISSERTATION  ON 

Many  other  variations  beside  those  already  mentioned  might 
be  pointed  out ;  but  that  I  may  not  wearj^  the  reader,  I  will  only 
refer  in  a  note  to  the  most  striking  diversities  that  are  found  be- 
tween Shakspeare's  Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  and 
the  elder  dramas  printed  in  quarto  *. 

The  supposition  of  imperfect  or  spurious  copies  cannot  account 
for  such  numerous  variations  in  the  circumstances  of  these  pieces; 
(not  to  insist  at  present  on  the  language  in  which  they  are 
clothed;)  so  that  we  are  compelled  (as  I  have  already  observed) 
to  maintain,  either  that  Shakspeare  wrote  tivo  plays  on  the  story 
which  forms  his  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  a  hasty  sketch, 
and  an  entirely  distinct  and  more  finished  performance  ;  or  else 
we  must  acknowledge  that  he  formed  that  piece  on  a  foundation 
laid  by  another  writer,  that  is,  upon  the  quarto  copy  of  The  First 
Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorkeand  Lancaster, 
&c. — and  the  same  argument  precisely  applies  to  The  Third  Part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  which  is  founded  on  The  true  Tragedie  of 
Richard  Duke  of  Yorke. 

Let  us  now  revert  to  the  Resemblances  that  are  found  in  these 
pieces  as  exhibited  in  the  folio,  to  passages  in  our  author's  undis- 
puted plays ;  and  also  to  the  Inconsistencies  that  may  be  traced 
between  them ;  and,  if  I  do  not  deceive  myself,  both  the  one  and 
the  other  will  add  considerable  support  to  the  foregoing  observa- 
tions. 

In  our  author's  genuine  plays,  he  frequently  borrows  from 
himself,  the  same  thoughts  being  found  in  nearly  the  same  ex- 


semper  Sidneios  loquamur  et  Spenseros,  audi  epilogum  fabulce 
quam  docuit  Boreali  dialecto  poeta  titulumque  fecit  reus  Machi- 
avellus  : 

"  Machil  iz  hanged 

"  And  brened  iz  his  buks 

'*  Though  Machil  iz  hanged 

"  Yet  he  iz  not  wranged 

"  The  Di'el  haz  him  fanged 

"  In  hiz  cruked  cluks 

"  Machil  iz  hanged 

"  And  brened  in  his  buks."  Boswell. 
*  See  the  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  p.  183,  n.  8; 
p.  212,  n.  1  ;  p.  2I4-,  n.  4- ;  p.  215,  n.  7  ;  p.  216,  n.  8  ;  p.  219, 
n.  3  ;  p.  220,  n.  4 ;  p.  232,  n.  4  ;  p.  246,  n.  6  ;  p.  248,  n.  7  ; 
p.  252,  n.  6  ;  p.  262,  n.  6  ;  p.  269,  n.  7  ;  p.  276,  n.  8  ;  p.  280, 
n.  8  ;  p.  289,  n.  3  and  4  ;  p.  292,  n.  2 ;  p.  293,  n.  3  and  4  ; 
p.  323,  n.  8  ;  p.  325,  n.  3  ;  p.  326,  n.  4  ;  p.  331,  n.  4  ^  p.  334, 
n.  1  ;  p.  337,  n.  7  ;  p.  338,  n.  6 ;  p.  339,  n.  1  and  2 ;  p.  340, 
n.  3;  p.  341,  n.  5;  p.  342,  n.  7;  p.  355,  n.  3;  p.  350,  n.  7 ; 
p.  353,  n.  4  ;  and  p.  358,  n.  4  and  5. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  583 

pressions  in  diil'erent  pieces.  In  The  Second  and  Third  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  as  in  other  dramas,  these  coincidencies  with  his 
other  works  may  be  found*;  and  this  was  one  of  the  circum- 
stances that  once  weighed  much  in  my  mind,  and  convinced  me 
of  their  authenticity.  But  a  collation  of  these  plays  with  the  old 
pieces  on  which  they  are  founded,  has  shewn  me  the  fallacy  by 
which  I  was  deceived :  for  the  passages  of  these  two  parts  of 
King  Henry  VI.  which  correspond  with  others  in  our  author's 
undisputed  plays,  exist  onlij  in  the  folio  copy,  and  not  in  the 
quarto;  in  other  words,  in  those  parts  of  these  new-modelled 
pieces,  which  were  of  Shakspeare's  writing,  and  not  in  the  ori- 
ginals by  another  hand,  on  which  he  worked.  This,  I  believe, 
will  be  found  invariably  the  case,  except  in  three  instances. 

The  first  is,  "  You  have  no  children,  butchers;"  which  is,  it 
must  be  acknowledged,  in  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke 
of  Yorke,  &c.  1600;  (as  well  as  in  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.)  and  is  also  introduced  with  a  slight  variation  in  Mac- 
beth. 

Another  instance  is  found  in  King  John.  That  king,  when 
charged  with  the  death  of  his  nephew,   asks — 

"  Think  you,   I  bear  the  shears  of  destiny? 
"  Have  I  commandment  on  the  pulse  of  life  ?  " 
which  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  words  of  Cardinal 
Beaufort  in  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses, 
&c.  which  Shakspeare  has  introduced  in  his  Second  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.: 

" Died  he  not  in  his  bed? 

"  Can  I  make  men  live  whe'r  they  will  or  no  ?  " 
The  third  instance  is  found  in  The  true  Tragedy  of  Richarde 
Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.     In  that  piece  are  the  following  lines,  which 
Shakspeare  adopted  with  a  very  slight  variation,  and  inserted  in 
his  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. : 

" .  doves  will  peck  in  rescue  of  their  brood. — 

"  Unreasonable  creatures  feed  their  young  ; 
"  And  though  man's  face  be  fearful  to  their  eyes, 
"  Yet,  in  protection  of  their  tender  ones, 
"  Who  hath  not  seen  them  even  with  those  same  wings 
"  Which  they  have  sometimes  used  in  fearful  flight, 
"  Make  war  with  him  that  climb'd  unto  their  nest, 
"  Oft'ering  their  own  lives  in  their  young's  defence  ?  " 
So,  in  our  author's  Macbeth  : 


*  See  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  p.  169,  n.  6 ; 
p.  249,  n.  8 ;  p.  272,  n.  5  ;  p.  273,  n.  7  ;  p.  278,  n.  2;  p.  284., 
n.  5;  p.  291,  n.  6;  p.  321,  n.5;  p.  352,  n.9,  n.  1,  n.  2;  p.  355, 
n.  8. Third  Part,  p.  4-27,  n,  5  ;  p.  438,  n.  3  ;  p.  449,  G. 


684  DISSKRTATION  ON 

"  — —  the  poor  wren — 
"  The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight, 
"  Her  young  ones  in  the  nest,  against  the  owl." 
But  whoever  recollects  the  various  thoughts  that  Shakspeare 
has  borrowed  from  preceding  writers,  will  not  be  surprised  that 
in  a  similar  situatiou,  in  Macbeth,  and  King  John,  he  should  have 
used  the  expressions  of  an  old  dramatist,  with  whose  writings  he 
had  been  particularly  conversant ;  expressions  too,  which  he  had 
before  embodied  in  former  plays  :  nor  can,  I  think,  these  three 
instances  much  diminish  the  force  of  the  foregoing  observation. 
That  it  may  have  its  full  weight,  I  have  in  the  present  edition 
distinguished  by  asterisks  all  the  lines  in  The  Second  and  Third 
Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  of  which  there  is  no  trace  in  the  old 
quarto  plays,  and  which  therefore  I  suppose  to  have  been  written 
by  Shakspeare.  Though  thiehas  not  been  effected  without  much 
trouble,  yet,  if  it  shall  tend  to  settle  this  long-agitated  question, 
I  shall  not  consider  my  labour  as  wholly  thrown  away. 

Perhaps  a  similar  coincidency  in  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.  may  be  in-ged  in  opposition  to  my  hypothesis  relative  to 
that  play.  "  Lean  famine,  quartering  steel,  and  climbing  fire," 
are  in  that  piece  called  the  attendants  on  the  brave  Lord  Talbot ; 
as,  in  Shakspeare's  King  Henry  V,  "  famine,  sword,  and  fire,  are 
leash'd  in  like  hounds,  crouching  under  the  martial  Henry  for 
employment."  If  this  image  had  proceeded  from  our  author's 
imagination,  this  coincidency  might  perhaps  countenance  the 
supposition  that  he  had  some  hand  at  least  in  that  scene  of  The 
First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  where  these  attendants  on  war  are 
personified.  But  that  is  not  the  case  ;  for  the  fact  is,  that  Shak- 
speare was  furnished  with  this  imagery  by  a  passage  in  Holinshed, 
as  the  author  of  the  old  play  of  King  Henry  VI.  was  by  Hall's 
Chronicle :  "  The  Goddesse  of  warre,  called  Bellonas — hath 
these  three  hand-maides  ever  of  necessitie  attendyng  on  her, 
blond,  fyre,  awA famine  *." 

In  our  present  inquiry,  it  is  undoubtedly  a  very  striking  circum- 
stance that  almost  all  the  passages  in  The  Second  and  Third  Part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  which  resemble  others  in  Shakspeare's  undis- 
puted plays,  are  not  found  in  the  original  pieces  in  quarto,  but 
in  his  Rifacimento  published  in  folio.  As  these  Resemblances  to 
his  other  plays,  and  a  peculiar  Shakspearian  phraseology,  ascer- 
tain a  considerable  portion  of  these  disputed  dramas  to  be  the 
production  of  Shakspeare,  so  on  the  other  hand  certain  passages 
which  are  discordant  (in  matters  of  fact)  from  his  other  plays, 
are  proved  by  this  discordancij,  not  to  have  been  composed  by 
him  ;  and  these  discordant  passages,  being  found  in  the  original 
quarto  plays,  prove  that  those  pieces  were  composed  by  another 
writer. 


*  Hall's  Chron.  Henry  VI.  fol.  xxix. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  585 

Thus,  in  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (p.  454-,)  Sir 
John  Grey  is  said  to  have  lost  "  his  life  in  quarrel  of  the  house 
of  York ;  "  and  King  Edward  stating  the  claim  of  his  widow, 
whom  he  afterwards  married,  mentions,  that  his  lands  after  the 
battle  of  Saint  Albans,  (February  17,  1460-1,)  "  were  seized  on 
by  the  conqueror.  Whereas,  in  fact,  they  were  seized  on  by 
Edward  himself  after  the  battle  of  Towton,  (in  which  he  was 
conqueror,)  March  29,  1461.  The  conqueror  at  the  second 
battle  of  Saint  Albans,  the  battle  here  meant,  was  Queen  Mar- 
garet. This  statement  was  taken  from  the  old  quarto  play  ;  and, 
from  carelessness  was  adopted  by  Shakspeare  without  any  material 
alteration.  But  at  a  subsequent  period  when  he  wrote  his  King 
Richard  III.  he  was  under  a  necessity  of  carefully  examining  the 
English  chronicles ;  and  in  that  play.  Act  I.  So.  III.  he  has  re- 
presented this  matter  truly  as  it  was  : 

"  In  all  which  time,  you,  and  your  husband  Grey, 
"  VJ  eve  factious  for  the  House  qf  Lancaster  ; — 
"  (And,  Rivers,  so  were  you  ;) — Was  not  your  husband 
"  In  Margaret's  battle  at  Saint  Albans  slain?  " 
It  is  called  "Margaret's  battle,"  because  she  was  there  victorious. 
An  equally  decisive  circumstance  is  furnished  by  the  same  play. 
In  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (p.  478,)    Warwick  pro- 
poses to  marry  his  eldest  daughter  {Isabella)  to  Edward  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  the  proposal  is  accepted  by  Edward  ;  and  in  a  sub- 
sequent scene  Clarence  says,  he  will  marry  the  younger  daughter 
(Arme).     In   these  particulars  Shakspeare  has  implicitly  followed 
the  elder  drama.    But  the  fact  is,  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  married 
Anne  the  younger  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,    and  the 
Duke   of    Clarence  married    the  elder,    Isabella.     Though    the 
author  of  The  true  Tragedie  of  the   Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  was 
here  inaccurate,  and  though  Shakspeare  too  negligently  followed 
his  steps, — when   he  wrote  his  King  Richard  III.   he  had  gained 
better  information  ;  for  there  Lady  Anne  is  rightly  represented 
as  the  widow  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,   and  the  youngest  daughter 
of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  : 

"  Which  done,  God  take  king  Edward  to  his  mercy, 
'*  And  leave  the  world  to  me  to  bustle  in. 
"  For  then  I'll  marry  Warwick's  youngest  daughter; 
"  What  though  I  kill'd  her  husband,  and  her  father,"  &c. 
i.  e.  Edward  Prince  of  Wales,  and  King  Henry  VI. 

King  Richard  III,  Act  I.  Sc.  I. 
I  have  said  that  certain  passages  in  The  Second  and  Third  Part 
of  King  Henry  VI.  are  ascertained  to  be  Shakspeare's  by  a  pecu- 
liar phraseology.  This  peculiar  phraseology,  without  a  single  ex- 
ception, distinguishes  such  parts  of  these  plays  as  are  found  in 
the  folio,  and  not  in  the  elder  quarto  dramas,  of  which  the  phra- 
seology, as  well  as  the  versification,  is  of  a  different  colour. 
This  observation  applies  not  only  to  the  new  original  matter  pro- 


586  DISSERTATION  ON 

duced  by  Shakspeare,  but  to  his  alteration  of  the  old.  Our  au- 
thor in  his  undoubted  compositions  has  fallen  into  an  inaccuracy, 
of  which  I  do  not  recollect  a  similar  instance  in  the  works  of  any 
other  dramatist.  When  he  has  occasion  to  quote  the  same  paper 
twice,  (not  from  memory,  but  verbatim,)  from  negligence  he 
does  not  always  attend  to  the  words  of  the  paper  which  he  has 
occasion  to  quote,  but  makes  one  of  the  persons  of  the  drama 
recite  them  with  variations,  though  he  holds  the  very  paper 
quoted  before  his  eyes.  Thus,  in  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well, 
Act  V.  Sc.  Ill,     Helena  says  : 

" here's  your  letter  :  This  it  says  : 

"  Whenjrom  my  finger  you  can  get  this  ring, 
"  And  are  by  me  with  child," — 
Yet,  as  I  have  observed  in  vol.  xi.  p.  420,  n.  6,  Helena  in 
Act  III.  Sc.  II.  reads  this  very  'ctter  aloud,  and  there  the  words 
are  different,  and  in  plain  prose  :  "  When  thou  canst  get  the 
ring  from  my  finger,  which  never  shall  come  oft',  and  show  me 
a  child  begotten  of  thy  body,"  &c.  In  like  manner,  in  the  first 
scene  of  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  Suffolk  presents  to 
the  Duke  of  Gloster,  protector  of  the  realm,  the  articles  of 
peace  concluded  between  France  and  England.  The  protector 
begins  to  read  the  articles,  but  when  he  has  proceeded  no  further 
than  these  words, — "  Item,  that  the  dutchy  of  Anjou  and  the 
county  of  Maine  shall  be  released  and  delivered  to  the  king  her 
father," — he  is  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  rendered  incapable  of  pro- 
ceeding :  on  which  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  is  called  upon  to 
read  the  remainder  of  the  paper.  He  accordingly  reads  the 
whole  of  the  article,  of  which  the  Duke  of  Gloster  had  only  read 
a  part :  "  Item,  It  is Jiirther  agreed betiveen  them,  that  the  didchies 
of  Anjou  and  Maine  shall  be  released  and  delivered  over  to  the 
king  her  father,  and  she  sent,"  &c.  Now  though  Maine  in  our 
old  chronicles  is  sometimes  called  a  county,  and  sometimes  a 
dutchy,  yet  words  cannot  change  their  form  under  the  eyes  of 
two  readers  :  nor  do  they  in  the  original  play,  entitled  The  First 
Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &c.  for  there  the 
article  as  recited  by  the  protector  corresponds  with  that  recited  by 
the  Bishop,  without  the  most  minute  variation.  "  Item,  It  is  fur- 
ther agreed  between  them,  that  the  (/z<ic/«>s  of  Anjou  and  nf  Maine 
shall  be  released  and  delivered  over  to  the  king  her  father,  and 
she  sent,"  &c.  Thus  in  the  old  play  says  the  Duke,  and  so  says 
the  Cardinal  after  him.  This  one  circumstance,  in  my  appre- 
hension, is  of  such  weight,  that  though  it  stood  alone,  it  might 
decide  the  present  question.  Our  author  has  fallen  into  a  similar 
inaccuracy  in  the  fourth  scene  of  the  same  Act,  where  the  Duke 
of  York  recites  from  a  paper  the  questions  that  had  been  put  to 
the  Spirit,  relative  to  the  Duke  of  Suflblk,  Somerset,  &c*. 

*  See  p.  201,  n,  8. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  587 

Many  minute  marks  of  Shakspeare's  hands  may  be  traced 
in  such  parts  of  the  old  plays  as  he  has  new- modelled.  I  at  pre- 
sent recollect  one  that  must  strike  every  reader  who  is  conversant 
with  his  writings.  He  very  frequently  uses  adjectives  adverbially  ; 
and  this  kind  of  phraseology,  if  not  peculiar  to  him,  is  found 
more  frequently  in  his  writings  than  those  of  any  of  his  contem- 
poraries. Thus — "  I  am  myself  indifferent  honest;" — "  as 
dishonournhle  ragged  as  an  old  faced  ancient ;  " — "  equal  raven- 
ous ;  " — "  leaves  them  invisible  ;  "  &c  *.  In  The  true  Tragedie 
of  the  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  the  King,  having  determined  to  marry 
Lady  Grey,  injoins  his  brothers  to  use  her  honourably.  But  in 
Shakspeare's  play  the  words  are, — "  use  her  honourable."  So, 
in  Julius  Csesar : 

"  Young  man,  thou  could'st  not  die  more  honourable." 
In  like  manner,  in  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  we   find 
this  line : 

•'  Is  either  slain,  or  wounded  dangerous.'' 
but  in  the  old  play  the  words  are — "  wounded  dangerously." 

In  the  same  play  the  word  handkerchief  is  used  ;  but  in  the 
corresponding  scene  in  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (p.  406,) 
Shakspeare  has  substituted  the  northern  term  napkin,  which 
occurs  so  often  in  his  works,  in  its  room  *. 

The  next  circumstance  to  which  I  wish  to  call  the  attention  of 
those  who  do  not  think  the  present  investigation  wholly  incurious, 
is,  the  Transpositions  that  are  found  in  these  plays.  In  the  pre- 
ceding notes  I  have  frequently  observed  that  not  only  several  lines, 
but  sometimes  whole  scenes  \,  were  transposed  by  Shakspeare. 

In  p.  405,  a  Messenger,  giving   an  account  of  the  death   of 
the  Duke  of  York,  says  : 

"  Environed  he  was  with  many  foes ; 

"  And  stood  against  them,  as  the  hope  of  Troy 

"  Against  the^Greeks,  that  would  have  enter'd  Troy. 

«'  But  Hercules  himself  must  yield  to  odds — ;  " 
When  this  passage  was  printed,  not  finding  any  trace  of  the 
last  three  lines  in  the  corresponding  part  of  the  old  play,  I  marked 
them  inadvertently  as  Shakspeare's  original  composition  in  my 
former  edition  ;  but  I  afterwards  found  that  he  had  borrowed  them 
from  a  subsequent  scene  on  a  quite  different  subject,  in  which 
Henry,  taking  leave  of  Vl^arwick,  says  to  him — 

"  Farewell  my  Hector,  and  my  Troys  true  hope!" 
and  the  last  line,  "  But  Hercules,"  &c.  is  spoken  by  Warwick, 


*  In  Othello  both  the  words — naphin,  and  handkerchief,  may 
be  found.     Steevens. 

t  See  p.  496,  n.  5;  p.  508,  n.  4. 


588  DISSERTATION  ON 

near  the  conclusion  of  the  piece,  after  he  is  mortally  wounded 
in  the  battle  of  Barnet. 

So,  in  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  after 
the  Duke  has  slain  Clifford,  he  says — 

"  Now,  Lancaster,  sit  sure  : — thy  sinews  shrink." 
Shakspeare  has  not  made  use  of  that  line  in   that  place,   but 
availed  himself  of  it  afterwards,  where  Edward  brings  forth  War- 
wick wounded  ;  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  V,  Sc.  II. : 
"  iVoto,  Montague,  sit  fast :  I  seek  for  thee,"  &c. 

Many  other  transpositions  may  be  traced  in  these  plays,  to 
which  I  shall  only  refer  in  a  note*. 

Such  transpositions  as  I  have  noticed,  could  never  have  arisen 
from  any  carelessness  or  inaccuracy  of  transcribers  or  copyists; 
and  therefore  are  to  be  added  to  the  many  other  circumstances 
which  prove  that  The  Seconfi  and  Third  Parts  of  K.  Henry  VL 
as  exhibited  in  the  folio,  were  formed  from  the  materials  of  a 
preceding  writer. 

It  is  also  observable,  that  many  lines  are  repeated  in  Shakspeare's 
Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  but  no  such  repeti- 
tions are  found  in  the  old  quarto  plays.  The  repetition  undoubt- 
edly arose  from  Shakspeare's  not  always  following  his  original 
strictly,  but  introducing  expressions  which  had  struck  him  in  other 
parts  of  the  old  plays  ;  and  afterwards,  forgetting  that  he  had 
before  used  such  expressions,  he  suffered  them  to  remain  in  their 
original  places  also. 

Another  proof  that  Shakspeare  was  not  the  author  of  The 
Contention  of  the  Two  Houses,  &c.  is  furnished  by  the  incon- 
sistencies into  which  he  has  fallen,  by  sometimes  adhering  to,  and 
sometimes  deviating  from,  his  original :  an  inaccuracy  which  may 
be  sometimes  observed  in  his  undisputed  plavs. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  this  kind  of  incon- 
sistency is  found  in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  p.  306, 
where  he  makes  Henry  say  : 

"  I'll  send  some  holy  bishop  to  intreat,"  &c. 
a  circumstance  which  he  took  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle; 
whereas  in  the  old  play  no  mention  is  made  of  a  bishop  on  this 
occasion.  The  King  there  says,  he  will  himself  come  and  parley 
with  the  rebels,  and  in  the  mean  time  he  orders  Clifford  and 
Buckingham  to  gather  an  army.  In  a  subsequent  scene,  how- 
ever, Shakspeare  forgot  the  new  matter  which  he  had  introduced 
in  the  former;  and  Clifford  and  Buckingham  only  parley  with 
Cade,  &c.  conformably  to  the  old  play. 

In  Romeo  and  Juliet  he   has   fallen  into  a  similar  inaccuracy. 
In  the  poem  on  vvhich  that  tragedy  is  founded,  Romeo,  in  his 


*  See  p.  271,  n.  4  ;  p.  298,  n.  8  ;  p.  345,  n.  3  ;  p.  490,  n. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  589 

interview  with  the  Friar,  after  sentence  of  banishment  has  been 
pronounced  against  him,  is  described  as  passionately  lamenting 
his  fate  in  the  following-  terms  : 

"  First  nature  did  he  blame,  the  nnthnr  of  his  life, 

*'  In  which  his  joys  had  been  so  scant,  and  sorrows  aye  so  rife  ; 

"  The  time  and  place  of  birth  he  fiercely  did  reprove  ; 

"  He  cryed  out  with  open  mouth  against  the  stars  above. 

"  Ox\  fortune  eke  he  rail'd,"  &c. 

The  Friar  afterwards  reproves  him  for  want  of  patience.  In 
forming  the  corresponding  scene  Shakspeare  has  omitted  Romeo's 
invective  against  his  fate,  but  inadvertently  copied  the  Friar's  re- 
monstrance as  it  lay  before  him  : 

"■  Why  raiVst  thou  on  thy  birth,  the  heaven,  and  earth  ?  " 

If  the  following  should  be  considered  as  a  trifling  circumstance, 
let  it  be  remembered,  that  circumstances  which,  separately  consi- 
dered, may  appear  unimportant,  sometimes  acquire  strength,  when 
united  to  other  proofs  of  more  efficacy  :  in  my  opinion,  however, 
vvhat  I  shall  now  mention,  is  a  circumstance  of  considerable 
weight.  It  is  observable  that  the  priest  concerned  with  Eleanor 
Cobham,  Duchess  of  Glocester,  in  certain  pretended  operations  of 
magick,  for  which  she  was  tried,  is  called  by  Hall,  John  Hum. 
So  is  he  named  in  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two 
Houses  of  Yorke,  &c.  the  original,  as  I  suppose,  of  The  Second 
Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  Our  author,  probably  thinking  the  name 
harsh  or  ridiculous,  softened  it  to  Hume ;  and  by  that  name  this 
priest  is  called  in  his  play  printed  in  folio.  But  in  Holinshed  he  is 
named  Hun  ;  and  so  undoubtedly,  or  perhaps  for  softness,  Hiine, 
he  would  have  been  called  in  the  original  quarto  play  just  men- 
tioned, if  Shakspeare  had  been  the  author  of  it ;  for  Holinshed 
and  not  Hall  was  his  guide,  as  I  have  shown  incontestably  in  a  note 
on  King  Henry  V.  vol.  xvii.  p.  270,  n.4.  But  Hall  was  undoubtedly 
the  historian  who  had  been  consulted  by  the  original  writer  of  The 
Contention  of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster ;  as  ap- 
pears from  his  having  taken  a  line  from  thence,  "That  Alexander 
Iden,  an  esquire  ofKeitt*,''  and  from  the  scene  in  which  Cardinal 
Beaufort  is  e.xhibited  on  his  death-bed.  One  part  of  the  particu- 
lar description  of  the  Cardinal's  death  and  dying  words,  in  the  old 
quarto  play,  is  founded  on  a  passage  in  Hall,  which  Holinshed, 
though  in  general  a  servile  copyist  of  the  former  clironicler,  has 
omitted.  The  passage  is  this  :  "  Dr.  John  Baker,  his  pryvie  coun- 
sailer  and  hys  chapellayn,  wrote,  that  lying  on  his  death-bed  he 
[Cardinal  Beaufort]  said  these  words  :  '  Why  should  I  dye,  havyng 
so  much  ryches  ?  If  the  whole  realme  would  save  my  lyfe,  I  am 


*  See  Hall,  Henry  V.  fol.  Ixxix.     Holinshed  .says,  "  a  gentle- 
man of  Kent,  named  Alexander  Iden,  awaited  so  his  time,"  &c. 


590  DISSERTATION  ON 

able  either  by  pollicie  to  get  it,  or  by  riches  to  bye  it.     Fye  !  will 
not  death  be  hyered,  nor  will  money  do  nothynge?  "     From  this 
the  writer  of  the  old  play  formed  these  lines  : 
"  O  death,  if  thou  wilt  let  me  live 
"  But  one  whole  year,  I'll  give  thee  as  much  gold 
"  As  will  purchase  such  another  island." 
which  Shakspeare  new-modelled  thus  : 

"  If  thou  be'st  death,  I'll  give  thee  England's  treasure, 
"  Enough  to  purchase  such  another  island, 
"  So  thou  wilt  let  me  live,  and  feel  no  pain." 
If  Shakspeare  had  been  the  author  of  The  First  Part  of  the  Con- 
tention, &c.   finding  in  his  Holinshed  the  name   Hun,  he  would 
either  have  preserved  it,  or  softened  it  to  Hune.     Working  on  the 
old  play,  where  he  found  the  name  of  Hum,  which  sounded  ridi- 
culous to  his  ear,  he  changed  it.  to  Hume.     But  whoever  the  ori- 
ginal writer  of  the  old  play  was,  having  used  the  name  of  Hum, 
he  must  have  formed  his  play  on  Hall's  Chronicle,  where  alone 
that  name  is  found.     Shakspeare  therefore   having  made  Holin- 
shed, and  not  Hall,  his  guide,  could  not  have  been  the  writer 
of  it. 

It  may  be  remarked,  that  by  the  alteration  of  this  priest's  name, 
he  has  destroyed  a  rhyme  intended  by  the  author  of  the  original 
play,  where  Sir  John  begins  a  soliloquy  with  this  jingling  line  : 
"  Now,  Sir  John  Hum,  no  word  but  mum: 
"  Seal  up  your  lips,  for  you  must  silent  be." 
which  Shakspeare  has  altered  thus  : 

" But  how  now.  Sir  John  Hume? 

"  Seal  up  your  lips,  and  give  no  words  butHZ?OTZ." 
Lines  rhyming  in  the  middle  and  end,  similar  to  that  above 
quoted,  are  often  found  in  our  old  English  plays^  (previous  to  the 
time  of  Shakspeare,)  and  are  generally  put  into  the   mouths   of 
priests  and  friars. 

It  has  already  been  observed,  that  in  the  original  play  on  which 
The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  is  founded,  "  Ahradas,  the 
Macedonian  pirate,"  is  mentioned.  This  hero  does  not  appear  in 
Shakspeare's  new-modelled  play,  "  Bargulus,  the  strong  Illyrian 
pirate,"  being  introduced  in  his  room.  Ahradas  is  spoken  of  (as 
Mr.  Steevens  has  remarked)  by  Robert  Greene,  the  very  person 
whom  I  suppose  to  have  been  one  of  the  joint  authors  of  the  origi- 
nal plays,  in  a  pamphlet,  entitled  Penelope's  Web,  1589  : — Ahra- 
das, the  great  Macedonean  pirate,  thought  every  one  had  a  letter 
of  mart  that  bare  sayles  in  the  ocean."  Of  this  pirate  or  his 
achievements,  however  celebrated  he  may  have  been,  I  have  not 
found  the  slightest  trace  in  any  hook  whatsoever,  except  that  above 
quoted  :  a  singular  circumstance,  which  appears  to  me  strongly 
to  confirm  my  hypothesis  on  the  present  subject ;  and  to  support 
my  interpretation  of  Greene's  words  in  his  Groatsworth  of  Witte, 
in  a  former  part  of  the  present  disquisition. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  591 

However  this  may  be,  there  are  certainly  very  good  grounds  for 
believing  that  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two  Houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke 
of  Yorke,  were  written  by  the  author  or  authors  of  the  old  King 
John,  printed  in  1591. 

In  The  true  Tragedie,  &c.  we  find  the  following  lines  : 
''  Let  England  be  true  xiithin  itself, 
"  We  need  not  France,  nor  any  alliance  with  her." 
The  first  of  these  lines  is  found,   with  a  very  minute  variation, 
in  the  old  King  John,  where  it  runs  thus  : 

"  Let  England  live  but  ixviQ  \v\i\\\i\  itself — ." 
Nor  is  this  the  only  coincidence.  In  the  deservedly  admired 
scene  in  which  Cardinal  Beaufort's  death  is  represented,  in  the 
original  play,  (as  well  as  in  Shakspeare's  Second  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI.)  he  is  called  upon  to  hold  up  his  hand,  as  a  proof  of  his 
confidence  in  God : 

"  Lord  Cardinal, 

"  If  thou  diest  assured  of  heavenly  blisse, 

"  Hold  up  thy  hand,  and  make  some  sign  to  us. 

[The  Cardinal  dies. 
"  O  see,  he  dies,  and  makes  no  sign  at  all : 
"  O  God,  forgive  his  soule  !  " 
I  quote  from  the  original  play. — It  is  remarkable  that  a  similar 
proof  is  demanded  in  the  old  play  of  King  John  also,  when  that 
king  is  expiring  : 

"  Then,  good  my  lord,  if  you  forgive  them  all, 
"  Lift  up  your  hand,  in  token  you  forgive." 
Again  : 

"  — —  in  token  of  thy  faith, 
"  And  signe  thou  diest  the  servant  of  the  Lord, 
"  Lift  up  thy  hand,  that  we  may  witnesse  here 
"  Thou  diest  the  servant  of  our  Saviour  Christ. — 
"  Now  joy  betide  thy  soul  !  " 
This  circumstance  appears  to  me  to  add  considerable  support 
to  my  conjecture. 

One  point  only  remains.  It  may  be  asked,  if  The  First  Part  of 
King  Henry  VI.  was  not  written  by  Shakspeare,  why  did  Heminge 
and  Condell  print  it  with  the  rest  of  his  works  ?  The  only  way 
that  I  can  account  for  their  having  done  so,  is  by  supposing,  either 
that  their  memory  at  the  end  of  thirty  years  was  not  accurate  con- 
cerning our  authors  pieces,  as  appears  indeed  evidently  from  their 
omitting  Troilus  and  Cressida,  which  was  not  recollected  by  them, 
till  the  whole  of  the  first  folio,  and  even  the  table  of  contents, 
(which  is  always  the  last  work  of  the  press,)  had  been  printed;  or, 
that  they  imagined  the  insertion  of  this  historical  drama  was  neces- 
sary to  understanding  the  two  pieces  that  follow  it ;  or  lastly,  tliat 
Shakspeare,  for  the  advantage  of  his  own  theatre,  having  written  a 
few  lines  in  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  after  his  own  Second 


592  DISSERTATION  ON 

and  Third  Part  had  been  played,  they  conceived  this  a  sufficient 
warrant  for  attributing-  it,  along  with  the  others,  to  him,  in  the  ge- 
neral collection  of  his  works.  If  Shakspeare  was  the  author  of 
any  part  of  this  play,  perhaps  the  second  and  the  following  scenes 
of  the  fourth  Act  were  his;  which  are  for  the  most  part  written  in 
rhyme,  and  appear  to  me  somewhat  of  a  different  complexion  from 
the  rest  of  the  play.  Nor  is  this  the  only  instance  of  their  pro- 
ceeding on  this  ground ;  for  is  it  yjossible  to  conceive  that  they 
could  have  any  other  reason  forgiving  Titus  Andronicus  a  place  in 
their  edition  of  Shakspeare's  works,  than  his  having  written  twenty 
or  thirty  lines  in  that  piece,  or  having  retouched  a  few  verses  of  it ; 
if  indeed  he  did  so  much  ? 

Shakspeare's  referring  in  the  Epilogue  to  King  Henry  V.  which 
was  produced  in  1599,  to  these  three  parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  of 
which  the  first,  by  whom  soever  it  was  written,  appears  from  the 
testimony  of  a  contemporary 'to  have  been  exhibited  with  great 
applause  *  ;  and  the  two  latter  having  been,  as  I  conceive,  eight 
years  before  new-modelled  and  almost  re-written  by  our  author, 
we  may  be  confident  were  performed  with  the  most  brilliant  suc- 
cess ;  his  supplicating  the  favour  of  the  audience  to  his  new  play 
of  King  Henry  V.  :  *^for  the  sake"  of  these  old  and  popular 
dramas,  which  were  so  closely  connected  with  it,  and  in  the  com- 
position of  which,  as  they  had  for  many  years  been  exhibited,  he 
had  so  considerable  a  share ;  the  connection  between  the  last 
scene  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  the  first  scene  of  King  Richard  III. 
the  Shaksperian  diction,  versification,  and  figures,  by  which  The 
Second  and  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  are  distinguished; 
"  the  easiness  of  expression  and  the  fluency  of  numbers,"  which, 
it  is  acknowledged,  are  found  here,  and  were  possessed  by  no 
other  author  of  that  age  ;  all  these  circumstances  are  accounted 
for  by  the  theory  now  stated,  and  all  objections  f  that  have  been 
founded  upon  them,  in  my  apprehension,  vanish  away. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  entry  on  the  Stationers'  books  of  the 
old  play,  entitled  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the  Two 
Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  without  the  name  of  the  au- 
thor ;  that  piece,  and  The  true  Tragedie  of  Richarde  Duke  of  Yorke, 
&c.  being  printed  in  1600,  anonymously;  their  being  founded 
on  the  Chronicle  of  Hall,  who  was  not  Shakspeare's  historian, 
and  represented  by  the  servants  of  Lord  Pembroke,  by  whom 
none  of  his  uncontested  dramas  were  represented  ;  the  colour, 
diction,  and  versification  of  these  old  plays,  the  various  circum- 
stances, lines  and  speeches,  that  are  found  in  them,  and  not  in 
our  author's  new-modification  of  them,  as  published  in  folio  by 
his  original  editors  ;  the  resemblances  that  have  been  noticed  be- 

*  See  p.  5Q^  of  this  Dissertation. 

t  See  these  several  objections  stated  by  Dr.  Johnson  in  the 
notes  at  the  end  of  The  Third  Part  of  Kins:  Henrv  VI. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  593 

tween  his  other  works  and  such  parts  of  these  dramas  as  are  only 
exhibited  in  their  folio  edition  ;  the  discordances  (in  matters  of 
fact)  between  certain  parts  of  the  old  plays  printed  in  quarto, 
and  Shalvspeare's  undoubted  performances :  the  transpositions 
that  he  has  made  in  these  pieces  ;  the  repetitions  ;  and  the  pecu- 
liar Shaksperian  inaccuracies,  and  phraseology,  which  may  be 
traced  in  the  folio,  and  not  in  the  old  quarto  plays ;  these  and 
other  circumstances,  which  have  been  stated  in  the  foregoing 
pages,  form,  when  united,  such  a  body  of  argument  and  proofs, 
in  support  of  my  hypothesis,  as  appears  to  me,  (though  I  will  not 
venture  to  assert  that  "  the  probation  bears  no  hinge  or  loop  to 
hang  a  doubt  on,")  to  lead  directly  to  the  door  of  truth. 

It  is  observable  that  several  portions  of  the  English  History 
had  been  dramatized  before  the  time  of  Shakspeare.  Thus,  we 
have  King  John  in  two  parts,  by  an  anonymous  writer;  Edward  I. 
by  George  Peele  ;  Edward  II.  by  Christopher  Marlowe ;  Edward 
III.  anonymous ;  Henry  IV.  containing  the  deposition  of  Richard 
II.  and  the  accession  of  Henry  to  the  crown,  anonymous  *  Henry 
V.  and  Richard  III.  both  by  anonymous  authors  f.  Is  it 
not  then  highly  probable,  that  the  x\jhole  of  the  story  of 
Henry  VI.  had  also  been  brought  upon  the  scene  ?  and  that  the 
first  of  the  plays  now  in  question,  formerly  (as  I  believe)  called 
The  Historical  Play  of  King  Henry  VI.  and  now  named  The  First 
Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  as  well  as  The  First  Part  of  the  Conten- 
tion of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The 
True  Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke,  (which  three  pieces 
comprehend  the  entire  reign  of  that  King  from  his  birth  to  his 
death,)  were  the  composition  of  some  of  the  authors,  who  had 
produced  the  historical  dramas  above  enumerated  ? 

In  consequence  of  an  hasty  and  inconsiderate  opinion  formed 
by  Mr.  Pope,  without  any  minute  examination  of  the  subject. 
King  John  in  two  parts,  printed  in  1.591,  and  The  old  Taming 
of  the  Shrew,  which  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  159i, 
and  printed  in  1607,  passed  for  half  a  century  for  the  compo- 
sition of  Shakspeare.  Further  inquiries  liave  shown  that  they 
were  the  productions  of  earlier  writers  ;  and  perhaps  a  more  pro- 
found investigation  of  this  subject  than  I  have  been  able  to 
make,  may  hereafter  prove  decisively,  that  \\\q first  of  the  three 
Henries  printed  in  folio,  and  both  the  parts  of  The  Whole  Conten- 
tion of  the  two  famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  as  exhibited 
in  quarto,  ought  to  be  classed  in  the  same  predicament  with  the 
two  old  plays  above  mentioned.  For  my  own  part,  if  it  should  ever 
be  thought  proper  to  reprint  the  old  dramas  on  which  Shakspeare 
founded  some  of  his  plays,  which  were  published  in  two  volumes 


*   See  the  Prolegomena  to  King  Richard  II.  vol.  xi. 
t  Entered  on  the  Stationers'  books  in  1594'. 
VOL.    XVllI.  3    « 


594  DISSERTATION  ON 

a  few  years  ago,  I  have  no  doubt  that  The  First  Part  of  the  Con- 
tention of  the  Two  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  &c.  and  The 
True  Tragedie  of  the  Duke  of  Yorke,  &c.  should  be  added  to  the 
number. 

Gildon  somewhere  says,  that  "  in  a  conversation  between  Shak- 
speare  and  Ben  Jonson,  Ben  asked  him  the  reason  why  he  wrote 
his  historical  plays."  Our  author  (we  are  told)  replied,  that 
"  finding  the  nation  generally  very  ignorant  of  history,  he  wrote 
them  in  order  to  instruct  the  people  in  that  particular."  This 
anecdote,  like  many  other  traditional  stories,  stands  on  a  very 
weak  foundation  ;  or,  to  speak  more  justly,  it  is  certainly  a  fiction. 
The  malignant  Ben  does  indeed,  in  his  Devil's  an  Ass,  1616, 
sneer  at  our  author's  historical  pieces,  which  for  twenty  years  pre- 
ceding had  been  in  high  reputation,  and  probably  were  theyi  the 
only  historical  dramas  that  had  possession  of  the  theatre ;  but 
from  the  list  above  given,  it  is  clear  that  Shakspeare  was  not  the 
first  who  dramatized  our  old  chronicles ;  and  that  the  principal 
events  of  the  P^nglish  History  were  familiar  to  the  ears  of  his 
audience,  before  he  commenced  a  writer  for  the  stage  *  :  though 


*  This  point  is  established  not  only  by  the  list  referred  to,  but  by 
a  passage  in  a  pamphlet  already  quoted,  entitled  Pierce  Pennilesse 
his  Supplication  to  the  Devil,  written  by  Thomas  Nashe,  quarto, 
1.592  :  "  Whereas  the  afternoone  being  the  eldest  time  of  the 
day,  wherein  men  that  are  their  own  masters  (as  gentlemen  of  the 
court,  the  Innes  of  court,  and  the  number  of  captaines  and  sol- 
diers about  London)  do  wholly  bestow  themselves  upon  pleasure, 
and  that  pleasure  they  divide  (how  virtuously  it  skilles  not,)  into 
gaming,  following  of  harlots,  drinking,  or  seeing  a  play  ;  is  it 
not  then  better,  since  of  foure  extreames  all  the  world  cannot 
keepe  them,  but  they  will  choose  one,  that  they  should  betake 
them  to  the  last,  which  is  Playes'i  Nay,  what  if  I  prove  playes 
to  be  no  extreame,  but  a  rare  exercise  of  vertue  !  First,  for  the 
subject  of  them  ;  for  the  most  part  it  is  horroived  out  of  our  En- 
glish Chronicles,  wherein  our  fore-fathers'  valiant  actes,  that  have 
been  long  buried  in  rustic  brasse,  and  worme  eaten  bookes,  are 
revived,  and  they  themselves  raised  from  the  grave  of  oblivion, 
and  brought  to  plead  their  aged  honours  in  open  presence ;  than 
which,  what  can  be  a  sharper  reproofe  to  these  degenerate  days 
of  ours  ?  " 

After  an  elogium  on  the  brave  Lord  Talbot,  and  on  the  actor 
who  had  personated  him  in  a  popular  play  of  that  time,  "  before 
ten  thousand  spectators  at  the  least ;  "  (which  has  already  been 
printed  in  a  former  page),  and  after  observing  "  what  a  glorious 
thing  it  is  to  have  King  Henry  the  Fifth  represented  on  the  stage, 
leading  the  French  king  prisoner,  and  forcing  both  him  and  the 
Dolphin  to  swear  fealty," — the  writer  adds  these  words  : 


KING  HENRY  VI.  595 

undoubtedly  at  this  day,  whatever  knowledge  of  our  annals  is  dis- 
persed among  the  people,  is  in  a  great  measure  derived  from  the 
frequent  exhibition  of  our  author's  historical  plays. 

He  certainly  did  not  consider  writing  on  fables  that  had  already 
been  formed  into  dramas,  as  any  derogation  from  his  fame  ;  if 
indeed  fame  was  ever  an  object  of  his  thoughts.  We  know  that 
plays  on  the  subjects  of  Measure  for  Measure,  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  King  John,  King  Richard  II. 
King  Henry  IV.  King  Henry  V.  King  Richard  III.  King  Lear, 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  and,  I  strongly  suspect,  on  those  of 
Hamlet,  Timon  of  Athens,  and  Julius  Csesar*,  existed  before  he 
commenced  a  dramatick  author ;  and  perhaps  in  process  of  time 
it  may  be  found,  that  many  of  the  fables  of  his  other  plays  also 
had  been  unskilfully  treated,  and  produced  upon  the  stage,  by 
preceding  writers. 

Such  are  the  only  lights  that  I  am  able  to  throw  on  this  very 
dark  subject.  The  arguments  which  I  have  stated  have  entirely 
satisfied  my  own  mind  ;  whether  they  are  entitled  to  bring  con- 
viction to  the  minds  of  others,  I  shall  not  presume  to  determine. 
I  produce  them,  however,  with  the  more  confidence,  as  they 
have  the  approbation  of  one  who  has  given  such  decisive  proofs 
of  his  taste  and  knowledge,  by  ascertaining  the  extent  of  Shak- 
speare's  learning,  that  I  have  no  doubt  his  thoughts  on  the  pre- 
sent question  also,  will  have  that  weight  with  the  publick  to 
which  they  undoubtedly  entitled.  It  is  almost  unnecessary  to 
add,  that  I  mean  my  friend  Dr.  Farmer ;  who  many  years  ago 


"  In  playes,  all  cousenages,  all  cunning  drifts,  over-guilded 
with  outward  holinesse,  all  stratagems  of  warre,  all  the  canker- 
wormes  that  breed  in  the  rust  of  peace,  are  most  lively  anato- 
mized. They  show  the  ill  successe  of  treason,  the  fall  of  hasty 
climbers,  the  wretched  end  of  usurpers,  the  miserie  of  civil  dis- 
sension, and  how  just  God  is  evermore  in  punhh'ing  murder.  And 
to  prove  every  one  of  these  allegations,  could  I  propound  the  cir- 
cumstances of  this  play  and  that,  if  I  meant  to  handle  this  theame 
otherwise  than  obiter." 

It  is  highly  probable  that  the  words,  "  the  miserie  of  civil  dis- 
sension," allude  to  the  very  playes  which  are  the  subjects  of  the 
present  disquisition,  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  of  the 
Two  Houses,  &c.  and  The  True  Tragedy  of  Richarde  Duke  of 
Yorke;  as,  by  "  the  wretched  end  of  Usurpers,"  and  the  justice 
of  God  in  "  punishing  murder,"  old  plays  on  the  subject  of  King 
Richard  III.  and  that  of  Hamlet,  prior  to  those  of  Shakspeare, 
were,  I  believe,  alluded  to. 

*  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare's 
Plays,  vol.  ii. 

2   Q    2 


596  DISSERTATION  ON 

delivered  it  as  his  opinion,  that  these  plays  were  not  written  ori- 
ginally by  Shakspeare  *.     Malone, 


*  Mr.  Theobald's  and  Dr.  Warburton's  idea  on  which  the 
foregoing  Dissertation  is  founded,  had  received  countenance  from 
the  opinion  of  Dr.  Farmer.  Mr.  Malone,  with  much  labour  and 
ingenuity,  has  given  support  to  the  sentiments  of  these  gen- 
tlemen ;  but,  in  my  judgment,  if  he  proves  any  thing,  it  is  a 
position  hazarded  by  me  long  ago  ;  viz.  that  our  author  had  as 
much  hand  in  the  present  dramas,  as  in  several  others  that  pass 
under  his  name ;  for,  as  I  observed  in  Mr.  Malone's  Attempt  to 
ascertain,  &c.  (article,  Macbeth)  "  a  time  may  arrive,  in  which 
it  will  become  evident,  from  books  and  manuscripts  yet  undis- 
covered and  unexamined,  tV.at  Shakspeare  did  not  attempt  a 
single  play  on  any  subject,  till  the  effect  of  the  same  story,  or  at 
least  the  ruling  incidents  in  it,  had  been  tried  on  the  stage,  and 
familiarized  to  his  audience  ;  " — a  conjecture  which  in  some  in- 
stances has  been  already  confirmed. 

Of  the  first  part  of  these  three  Histories,  however,  it  is  asserted, 
that  in  colour  of  style,  &c.  it  bears  no  resemblance  to  the  other 
works  of  our  author.  As  I  think,  among  the  notes  on  that  piece, 
I  have  advanced  some  proofs  to  the  contrary,  in  this  place  I  shall 
be  content  to  add,  that  it  as  strongly  resembles  the  latter  dramas 
of  Shakspeare,  as  the  Dream  of  Raphael  resembles  his  Transfigu- 
ration. Between  the  first  and  last  performances  of  great  masters, 
there  is  often  but  a  small,  if  any,  degree  of  resemblance.  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  studied  under  Hudson,  and  at  first  imitated  his 
manner;  but  is  a  trace  of  the  almost  forgotten  master  discover- 
able in  the  mature  and  applauded  works  of  the  pupil  ? 

Steevens. 

Mr.  Steevens  seems  to  have  been  in  considerable  embarrass- 
ment with  regard  to  this  Dissertation.  He  is  at  first  in  doubt 
whether  it  proves  tiny  thing ;  but  if  the  reader  should  be  con- 
vinced that  it  is  well  founded,  he  puts  in  his  claim  to  the  merit  of 
the  discovery.  It  must,  however,  be  obvious,  that  there  is  a  very 
great  difference  between  hazarding  a  general  opinion  that  Shaks- 
peare may  have  been  preceded  by  other  writers  in  the  subjects 
of  his  dramas,  and  proving  that  this  has  actually  happened  in 
a  particular  instance.  I  have  mentioned  in  the  Preliminary  Re- 
marks that  Mr.  Malone  was  in  doubt  as  to  the  date  of  the 
second  and  third  parts  of  Henry  VI.  which  he  formerly  placed  so 
early  as  1591,  but  which  he  afterwards  thought  might  have  been 
as  late  as  1600.  The  grounds  of  this  opinion  I  have  only  found 
stated  in  a  few  short  memoranda.  They  are  as  follows.  The 
silence  of  Meres,  in  the  list  he  has  given  of  Shakspeare's  works, 
the  praise  which  our  poet  has  bestowed  upon  these  plays  in  the 


KING  HENRY  VI.  597 

last  chorus  to  Henry  V.  which  he  considered  as  being  incon- 
sistent  with    his  usual   modesty,  and  the  probability  that   the 
original  pieces  were   republished  in    1600,    on  account   of  the 
popularity   of  Shakspeare's   alterations,   in   the  hope  that  the 
reader  might  on   that  account  be  more  anxious   to  peruse  them. 
With  all  my  respect  for  my  late  friend's  opinions,  I  cannot  think 
any  of  these   reasons   conclusive.      Meres,   in  mentioning  our 
author's   performances,   might  not  think    it  worth    his  while   to 
specify  two  dramas  of  which  so  much  belonged   to  others,  as 
witnessing  Shakspeare's  excellence  :  the  chorus  to  Henry  V,  says 
nothing  inconsistent  with  the  utmost  modesty;  it  merely  hopes 
that  the  audience  will  show  the  same  indulgence  which  they  had 
done  before.     The  reasons  assigned  for  the  republication  in  1600 
might  as  well  be  given  for  their  being  first  committed  to  the 
press  in  ISQi  and  1.595.     In  the  Essay  on  the  Chronology  of 
Shakspeare's  Plays,  he  has  altered  his  opinion  with  regard  to  the 
original  author  of  the  pieces  which  he  took  as  his  groundwork  on 
the  present  occasion.     But  as  this  volume  has  already  grown  to 
an  unusual  bulk,  and  that  question  isimmaterial  to  the  great  object 
of  this  Essay,  I  have  left  what  he  has  said  upon  that  point  in  its 
former  place,  and  have  contented  myself  with  giving  here  what 
in  its  original  state  was  pronounced  by  the  late  Professor  Porson 
to  be  one  of  the  most  convincing  pieces  of  criticism  he  had  ever 
met  with.     Boswell. 


END    OF    VOL.    XVIII. 


C.  Balilwin,  Printer, 
New  Bridge-street,  liOndoo. 


c 


i 


omomG  S^CT.  MAY  1  9  tgZO 


VR  Shakespeare,  William 

2752       Pla/s  and  poems 

M3 

1821 

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