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 fhews,

My blood, my want of ftrength, my fick heart fhews,
That Fmuft yield my body, to the earth,

Aud, by my fall, the conqueft to my foe,LIC
Thus yields the cedar to the ax's edge,

Whofe arms gave shelter to the princely eagle;
Under whofe fade the rampant lion flept,

Whofe top branch over-peer'd Jove's fpreading tree,
And kept low fhrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.
These eyes, that now are dim'd with death's black veil,
Have been as piercing as the mid-day fun,

To search the fecret treafons of the world. Sent
The wrinkles in my brow, now fill'd with blood,
Were liken'd oft to kingly fepulchres:

For who liv❜d King, but I could dig his grave?
And who durft fmile, when Warwick bent his brow ?
Lo, now my glory fmear'd in duft and blood,
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, (22)
Ev'n now forlake 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.

Enter Oxford and Somerfet..

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are, We might recover all our lofs again:

The Queen from France hath brought a puiffant power: Ev'n now we heard the news: ah, could't thou fly! War. Why, then I would not fly.

Ah, Montague,

Venture to affirm, our paffage is very

(22) My parks, my walks, my manors that I bad, ! Fu'n now for fake me; and of all my lands Is nothing left me, but my body's length,] I won't author is imitating Horace here; but, furely, much of a caft with that which I am about to quote. Linguenda tel'us & Domus, & platens stood 197 viT Uxor; neque berum, quas colis, Arborumoia virs of Te præter invifas Cupreffos,

Ulla brevem Dominum fequetur.

If thou be there, fweet brother, take my hand, N And with thy lips keep in my foul a while, 91 DNA Thou lov'ft me not; for, brother, if thou didst, W Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood, m 'That glews my lips, and will not let me fpeak. ad I Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.dbu

Som. Ah Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his laft, And to the latest gafp cry'd out for Warwicktori ŵ And faid, commend me to my valiant brother. And more he would have faid, and more he spoke, Which founded like a cannon in a vault,

A

That might not be diftinguish'd; but, at lafton i
I well might hear deliver'd with a groan,
O, farewel, Warwick!

War. Sweetly reft his foul.!!

Fly, Lords, and fave yourselves; for Warwick bids
You all farewel, to meet again in heaven.

[Diess

Oxf. Away, away, to meet the Queen's great power. [They bear away his body, and Exeunt

SCENE changes to another part of the Field."

Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph; with Glou-cefter, Clarence, and the reft.

K. E.

'HUS far our fortune keeps an upward course, And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory... we But, in the midft of this bright-fhining day, Ifpy a black, fufpicious, threat'ning cloud, That will encounter with our glorious fun, Ere he attain his cafeful western bed :

I mean, my Lords, thofe powers, that the Queen
Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coaft;
And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
Clar. A little gale will foon difperfe that cloud,..
And blow it to the fource from whence it came.
Thy very beams will dry thofe vapours up:
For every cloud engenders not a storm.

Glo. The Queen is valu'd thirty thousand ftrong,
And Somerfet, with Oxford, fled to her.

If the hath time to breathe, be well affur'd,
Her faction will be full as ftrong as ours,

K. Ed. We are advertis'd by our loving friends,
That they do hold their courfe tow'rd Terkbury.
We having now the beft at Barnet field,

Will thither ftraight; for willingness rids way:
And as we march, our ftrength will be augmented
In every county as we go along :

Strike up the drum, cry, courage! and away. [Exeunt»

SCENE changes to Tewksbury.

March. Enter the Queen, Prince of Wales, Somerset, Oxford, and Soldiers.

2.

G

Reat Lords, wife men ne'er fit and wail their lofs, But chearly seek how to redrefs their harms. What though the maft be now blown over-board, (23)

(23) What though the maft be now blown overboard, The cable broke, the holding anchor loft,

And balf our failors fwallow'd in the Flood?] The allufion which the Queen purfues here, of the kingdom harrafs'd by the calamities of civil war, to a fhip diftrefs'd by hard weather, feems a elofe copy from this fine draught of Horace :

Nonne vides, ut

Nudum remigio latus,

Et malus celeri faucius Africo,

Antennæque gemant? Ac fine funibus

Vix durare Carina

Piffint impericfius

Lib. i. Ode 14.

Aquor? Non tibi funt integra lintea, &c. And what is very remarkable, this image in both poets is made on the fame occafion, on the forms of civil fury. Only our poet very judiciously, as ufing it metaphorically, is much fhorter than Horace, who used it allegorically, which requir'd its being drawn out to greater length. There have been fome modern criticks, I know, who won't allow this Ode in the Roman poet to be an allegory on the civil wars; but only a civil invitation to a fhatter'd fhip that bore one of Horace's friends, to fray quietly in harbour. But we may as fafely, I think, go along with Quintilian, (who must have been, at leaft, as well informed in this matter) and he directly fays, the ship is the Roman commonwealth. Totufque etiam ille Horatii locus, quo navim pro republica, fluctuum tempeftates pro bellis civilibus, portum pro pace atque concordia dicit. Luftitut. Orator, lib. vii, sap 6. De Tropis.

1

1 Ms. Warburton. The

A

The cable broke, the holding-anchor loft, det at tI
And half our failors fwallow'd in the flooding 19H
Yet lives our pilot fill. Is't meet, that he
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, T
With tear-ful eyes add water to the feapon. 7
And give more ftrength to that which hath too much?
While in his moan the fhip fplits on the rock, 1
Which industry and courage might have fav'd ? non
Ah, what a fhame! ah, what a fault were this b
Say, Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
And Mountague our top-maft; what of him?
Our flaughter'd friends, the tackle; what of thefe?
Why, is not Oxford here another anchor ?
And Somerfet another goodly maft?

The friends of France our fhrouds and tacklings ftill
And though unskilful, why not Ned and I
For once allow'd the fkilful pilot's charge?
We will not from the helm to fit and weep,

But keep our courfe (though the rough wind fay, no,)
From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack:
As good to chide the waves, as fpeak them fair.
And what is Edward, but a ruthless fea?
What Clarence, but a quick-fand of deceit?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these, the enemies to our poor bark..
Say, you can fwim; alas, 'tis but a while;
Tread on the fand; why, there you quickly fink:
Beftride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famifh, that's a three-fold death.
This fpeak I, Lords, to let you understand,
In cafe fome one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers,
More than with ruthlefs waves, with fands, and rocks.
Why, courage, then what cannot be avoided,
Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.

Prince Methinks, a woman of this valiant fpirit Should, if a coward heard her fpeak thefe words, Infufe his breaft with magnanimity,

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms. illa cakton I speak not this, as doubting any here:

For did I but fufpect a fearful man,
He fhould have leave to go away betimes;
Left, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any fuch be here, (as, God forbid !)
Let him depart before we need his help.

Oxf. Women and children of fo high a courage!
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual fhame.
Oh, brave young Prince! thy famous grandfather
Doth live again in thee; long may'ft thou live,
To bear his image, and renew his glories!

Som. And he, that will not fight for fuch a hope,
Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arife, be mock'd and wonder'd at.

Queen. Thanks, gentle Somerfet; fweet Oxford, thanks.
Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else.
Enter a Meffenger.

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

Oxf. I thought no lefs; it is his policy,
To hafte thus faft to find us unprovided..

Sam. But he's deceiv'd; we are in readiness.
Queen. This cheers my heart, to fee your forwardness
Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will not budge.

March. Enter King Edward, Glocefter, Clarence, and.
Soldiers.

K.Ed. Brave followers, yonder ftands the thorny wood, Which by the heavens affiftance and your ftrength, Muft 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 fignal to the fight, and to it, Lords.

Queen.Lords, Knights, andGentlemen, whatifhould fay,

My tears gain-fay; for every word I fpeak,.

Ye fee, I drink the water of my eye:

Therefore no more but this; Henry, your Sov'reign, Is prifoner to the foe, his ftate ufurp'd,

His realm a flaughter-houfe, his fubjects flain,