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.

[them. Hast. My liege, I'll knock once more to summon Enter, on the Walls, the Mayor of York, and his Brethren.

May. 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.

May. True, my good lord; I know you for no less. K. Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my As being well content with that alone. [dukedom; Glo. But when the fox hath once got in his nose, He'll soon find means to make the body follow. [Aside. Hast. 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. [Exeunt 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
Both him, and all his brothers, unto reason.

Re-enter the Mayor and two Aldermen, below.
K. Edw. So, master mayor: these gates must not be
But in the night, or in the time of war. [shut,
What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;
[Takes the Keys.
For Edward will defend the town, and thee,
And all those friends that deign to follow me.
Drum. Enter Montgomery and Forces, marching.
Glo. Brother, this is sir John Montgomery,
Our trusty friend, unless I be deceiv'd. [in arms?
K. Edw. Welcome, sir John! But why come you
Mont. To help king Edward in his time of storm,
As every loyal subject ought to do.
[forget
K. Edw. Thanks, good Montgomery: But we now
Our title to the crown; and only claim
Our dukedom, till God please to send the rest.
Mont. Then fare you well, for I will hence again;
1 came to serve a king, and not a duke,-
Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.

LA March begun. K. Edw. Nuy, stay, sir John, awhile; 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?
[our claim:

K. Ed. When we grow stronger, then we'll make
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. Edw. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right, And Heary but usurps the diadem. And now will I be Edward's champion. [claim'd:Mont. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself; Hast. Sound trumpet; Edward shall be here proCome, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation.

[Gives him a Paper. Flourish. Sold. [Reads] Edward the fourth, by the grace of God, king of England and France, and lord of Ireland, &c.

Mont. And whosoe'er gainsays king Edward's right, By this I challenge him to single tight.

[Throws downs his Gauntlet. All. Long live Edward the fourth! K. Edw. Thanks, brave Montgomery ;—and thanks

unto you all.

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 Warwick.-
Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day;
And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.
SCENE VIII. London. A Room in the Palace.
Enter King Henry, Warwick, Clarence, Montague,
Exeter, and Oxford.

War. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
With hasty Germans, and blunt Hollanders,
Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
And with his troops doth march amaia 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, in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Kent, The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st: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.

[hope.

K. Hen. Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true Clar. In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand. K. Hen. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate! Mont. Comfort, my lord;-and so I take my leave. Oxf. And thus [Kissing Henry's Hand] I seal my

truth, and bid adieu.

K. Hen. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague, And all at once, once more a happy farewell. War. Farewell, sweet lords; let's meet at Coventry. [Exeunt War. Clar. Oxf. and Mont. K. Hen. Here at the palace will I rest awhile. 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 I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands, [fame. 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 dried 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? Enter King Edward, Gloster, and Soldiers.

K. Edw. Seize on the shame-fac'd Henry, bear him hence,

And once again proclaim us king of England.-
You are the fount, that makes sinall brooks to flow.
Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry,
And swell so much the higher by their ebb.-
And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course,
Hence with him to the Tower; let him not speak.
[Exeunt some with King Henry
Where peremptory Warwick now remains:
Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.
The sun shines bot, and, if we use delay,

Glo. Away betimes, before his forces join,
And take the great-grown traitor unawares :
Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Coventry.

[Exeunt.

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,
That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last,
I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,-
O, farewell, Warwick!

War.

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! [Exeunt, bearing off Warwick's Body. SCENE III. Another Part of the Field. Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph; with Clarence, Gloster, and the rest.

K. Edw. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory. [course,
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;
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 advertis'd 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. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Plains near Tewksbury.

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,

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 quicksand of deceit ?
And Richard, but a rugged 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 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 I what cannot be avoided,
"Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.

Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward hear 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! why, 'twere perpetual shame.O, brave young prince! thy famous grandfather Doth live again in thee; Long mayst thou live, To bear his image, and renew his glories! Som. 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. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset ;-sweet Oxford, thanks. [else. Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand, Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less: it is his policy, To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided." Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness. [ness. Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardOxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not budge. March. Enter, at a distance, King Edward, Clarence, Gloster, and Forces.

K. Edw. 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.
Therefore, no more but this-Henry, your sovereign,
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 in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies.

SCENE V. Another Part of the same. Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat. Then enter King Edward, Clarence, Gloster, and Forces; with Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, Prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils. Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle straight: Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak. For Somerset, off with his guilty head. 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. Edw. Is proclamation made, that who finds EdShall have a high reward, and he his life? [ward, Glo. It is and, lo, where youthful Edward comes.

Enter Soldiers, with Prince Edward.

K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him. What! can so young a thorn begin to prick! [speak. Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make, For hearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to ?

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. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. Prince. Let Æsop fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place.

rather.

Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll 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 [tongue. K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your Clar. Untator'd lad, thou art too malapert. Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward,-and thou perjur'd George,And thou mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all,

K K

K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done too much.

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with words! [her recovery.

K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for. Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother: 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 mother, boy!

Canst thou not speak ?-0 traitors! murderers !--
They, that stabb'd Cresar, 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? if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse :
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. Edu. Away with her; go, bear her hence per-

force.

[here; Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me 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. [do it? Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not 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? 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. [Exit, led out forcibly. K. Ed. 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 VI. 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 ? [rather; K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: My lord, I should say 'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better: Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike, And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord. Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant. 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.

K. Hen. 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, [kill'd. Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and 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. Hen. I, Dædalus; 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,
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 tragic 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.

Glo. 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 prophesy,-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,
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 Inmp,
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-

Glo. I'll hear no more;-Die, prophet, in thy
speech;
[Stabs him.

For this, amongst the rest, was 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 downfall of our house!--
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say-I sent thee thither.
[Stabs him again.

I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.-
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:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make baste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Jesus bless us, he is born with 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 myself alone.-
Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light;
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:
For I will buzz abroad such prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
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.

[Exit.

SCENE VII. The same. A Room in the Palace. King Edward is discovered sitting on his Throne; Queen Elizabeth with the infant Prince, Clarence, Gloster, Hastings, and others, near him.

K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal throne, Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies. What valiant 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:

With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Mon-
That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion, [tague,
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 afoot in summer's scalding heat,
That thou might'st repossess the crown in peace;
Aud 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, I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. [thanks. K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit: [sprang'st, To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master;) And cried-all hail!-when as he meant-Aside. 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 MarReignier, her father, to the king of France [garet? Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,

And hither have they sent it for her ransom. [France.
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence to
And now what rests, but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befit the pleasures of the court?-
Sound, drums and trumpets !-farewell, sour annoy!
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. [Exeunt.

King Edward the Fourth.

Edward, Prince of Wales, after

wards King Edward V. Richard, Duke of York, George, Duke of Clarence,

Richard, Duke of Gloster, Brothers to the King. afterwards King Richard III.

A young Son of Clarence.

Henry, Earl of Richmond, afterwards K. Henry VII.
Cardinal Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury.
Thomas Rotheram, Archbishop of York.
John Morton, Bishop of Ely.

Duke of Buckingham.

Duke of Norfolk. Earl of Surry, his Son.

Earl Rivers, Brother to King Edward's Queen. Marquis of Dorset, and Lord Grey, her Sons. Earl of Oxford. Lord Hastings. Lord Stanley. Lord Lovel.

ACT I.

SCENE I. London. A Street.

Enter Gloster.

Sir Robert Brakenbury, Lieutenant of the Tower.
Christopher Urswick, a Priest. Another Priest.
Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire..

Elizabeth, Queen of King Edward IV.
Margaret, Widow of King Henry VI.
Duchess of York, Mother to King Edward IV., Cla-
rence, and Gloster.

Lady Anne, Widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, Son to King Henry VI.; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloster.

A young Daughter of Clarence.

Lords and other Attendants; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c.

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York:
And all the clouds, that four'd upon our house,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the sonls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

1, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty,
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by then ;-
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity;
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,-

I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury. Brother, good day: What means this armed guard, That waits upon your grace? Clar. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to the Tower. Glo. Upon what cause? Clar.

Because my name is-George. Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; He should, for that, commit your godfathers :-O, belike, his majesty hath some intent, That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower, But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?

Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for, I protest,

As yet I do not: But, as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams:
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
And says a wizard told him, that by G
His issue disinherited should be ;

And, for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought that I am he:
These, as I learn, and such like toys as these,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.
Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by

women: