SCENE IV.

The fame.

Alarum. Enter YORK.

* YORK. The army of the queen hath got the

field:

'My uncles both are flain in rescuing me ;9

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 fons 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! fight it out! 'And full as oft came Edward to my fide, 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!

And cried,-A crown, or else a glorious tomb !
A fceptre, or an earthly fepulchre!

With this, we charg'd again: but, out, alas!

My uncles both are slain in rescuing me ;) These were two baftard uncles by the mother's fide, Sir John and Sir Hugh Mor timer. See Grafton's Chronicle, p. 649. 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.

• 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 within.

'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, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers.

6

Come, bloody Clifford, -rough Northumber

land,

' I dare your quenchless fury to more rage;

' I am your butt, and I abide your fhot.

NORTH. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. CLIF. Ay, to fuch mercy, as his ruthless arm, With downright payment, show'd unto my father.

2

We bodg'd again;] I find bodgery used by Nashe in his Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593, for botchery: "Do you know your own misbegotten bodgery?" To bodge might therefore mean, (as to botch does now) to do a thing imperfectly and aukwardly; and thence to fail or miscarry in an attempt. Cole, in his Latin Dictionary, 1679, renders-" To botch or bungle, opus corrumpere, difperdere."

I fufpect, however, with Dr. Johnson, that we should readWe budg'd again. "To budge" Cole renders, pedem referre, to retreat: the precise sense required here. So, Coriolanus, speaking of his army who had fled from their adversaries :

"The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge From rafcals worse than they." MALONE.

I believe that we bodg'd only means, we boggled, made bad or bungling work of our attempt to rally. A low untkilful tailor is often called a botcher. STEEVENS.

1

Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car,
And made an evening at the noontide prick.3

YORK. My ashes, as the phenix, may bring forth

A bird that will revenge upon you all : 'And, in that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven, Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. 'Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear?

CLIF. So cowards fight, when they can fy 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 canst 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 Clifford! 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 fo much,

To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart :

noontide prick.] Or, noontide point on the dial.

JOHNSON.

The fame phrafe occurs in Romeo and Juliet, Act II. fc. iv.

STEEVENS.

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 4 to take all vantages;
'And ten to one is no impeach of valour.

[They lay hands on YORK, who ftruggles. CLIF. 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,5 with robbers so o'er-match'd. NORTH. What would your grace have done unto him now?

Q. MAR. Brave warriors, Clifford, and Northum

berland,

Come make him stand upon this molehill here; 'That raught at mountains with outstretched

arms,

• 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 difcredit than to the praise of war, and therefore Warburton's amendment cannot be right; nor can I approve of Johnson's explanation ;-it appears to me that it is war's prize, means merely that it is the estimation of people at war; the fettled opinion. M. MASON.

"-dolus, an virtus, quis in hofte requirat?" Virg.

MALONE.

* So true men yield,] A true man has been already explained to be an honest man, as opposed to a thief. See Vol. VI. p. 349, n. 8. MALONE.

That raught-] i. e. That reach'd. The ancient preterite and participle paffive of reach. So, in Antony and Cleopatra : "The hand of death has raught him." STEEVENS.

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 fons to back you now?
The wanton Edward, and the lufty 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
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 miferable state.
I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York;
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may fing and dance.
What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails,
That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?

* Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be

mad;

* And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport;
York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.-
A crown for York; and, lords, bow low to him.-

2

-this napkin - A napkin is a handkerchief.

JOHNSON.

So, in As you like it: "To that youth he calls his Rosalind, he sends this bloody napkin." STEEVENS.

• 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.