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Richard's Hypocrify.

(4) But then I figh, and with a piece of scripture,
Tell them, that God bids us do good for evil;
And thus I cloath my naked villainy
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ,
And seem a faint, when most I play the devil.

SCENE V. The Tower.

Clarence's Dream.

Clarence and Brakenbury.

Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you

tell me.

Clar. Methought that I had broken from the Tower;

And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy,
And in my company, my brother Glo'ster;

Who from my cabin tempted me to walk

Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befal'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Glo'ster stumbled; and in falling
Struck me (that fought to stay him) over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

Lord, lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in my ears!
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes !
I thought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon !
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable ftones, unvalued jewels;
Some lay in dead mens skulls; and in those holes,

(4) See Merchant of Venice, p. 60, 1, 5. and p. 54. preceding.

Where

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Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in fcorn of eyes, reflecting gems;
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon the fecrets of the deep ?

Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghost: but ftill the envious flood
Kept in my foul, and wou'd not let it forth
To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring air?
But fmother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

Brak. Awak'd you not with this sad agony ?
Clar. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life.
O then began the tempest to my foul:
I past, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferry-man, which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

The first that there did greet my stranger foul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
Who cry'd aloud-What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?
And so he vanifh'd. Then came wand'ring by
A shadow like an Angel, with bright hair,
Dabbled in blood, and he shriek'd out aloud -
Clarence is come, false fleeting perjur'd Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!-
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
I, trembling wak'd; and for a season after
Could not believe but that I was in hell:
Such terrible impression made my dream.

Brak

Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you; I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done those things That now give evidence against my foul, For Edward's fake: and, fee, how he requites me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, Yet execute thy wrath on me alone;

O, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children!

SORROW.

Sorrow breaks seasons and repofing hours, Makes night morning, and the noon-tide night.

Greatness, it's Carés.

(5) Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour, for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of endless cares :
So that between their titles, and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

:

SCENE V. The Murtherers Account of Confcience..

I'll not meddle with; it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lye with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-fac'd spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for a

(5) See pages 50, 51, &c. and the notes foregoing.

dangerous

dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live without it.

ACTII. SCENE II.

DECEIT.

Ah! that deceit should steal such gentle shape, And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!

Submiffion to Heaven, our Duty.

(6) In common worldly things 'tis call'd ungrateful With dull unwillingness to pay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent ; Much more to be thus oppofite to heav'n; For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

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The Vanity of Trust in Men.

(7) O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
Lives like a drunken failor on a maft,
Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

:

(6) In, &c.] This is spoken by the marquis of Dorfet to the queen, when bewailing the loss of her husband Edward IV.

(7) 0, &c.] This possibly might have risen from the following lines in the 118th Pfalm.

It is better to trust in the lord, than to put any confidence in man.

It is better to trust in the lord, than to put any confidence in princes, &c. See too the 20th Pfalm.

SCENE

SCENE VII. CONTEMPLATION.

When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So fweet is zealous contemplation.

SCENE III. Description of the Murder of the towo young Princes in the Tower.

The tyrannous and bloody act is done;
The most arch-deed of piteous massacre,
That ever yet this land was guilty of!
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthless butchery,
Albeit they were flesht villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and mild compassion,
Wept like two children, in their death's fad story.
O thus, (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle babes; -
Thus, thus, (quoth Forrest,) girdling one another
Within their innocent alabafter arms;
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other,
A book of prayer's on their pillow lay,

Which once, (quoth Forrest) almost chang'd my

mind:

:

But, oh! the Devil-there the villain stopt:
When Dighton thus told on we smothered

The most replenished sweet work of nature,

That from the prime creation e'er she framed

They could not speak, and fo I left them both,

Hence both are gone with confcience and remorse;

To bear those tidings to the bloody king.

VOL. II.

K

EXPE

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