For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave? Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET. * Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are, • 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, Montague, • If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, And with thy lips keep in my soul a while! * Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou did'st Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his • 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,1. • That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last, 9 My parks, &c.] This mention of his parks and manors diminishes the pathetic effect of the foregoing lines. 1 Which sounded like a cannon in a vault,] Mr. Steevens thinks clamour, which is in the old play, the proper word, and adds, “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 attracted our author's notice: it has too often forced itself on mine." • 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 [Dies. Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great power! [Exeunt, bearing off WARWICK's Body. Flourish. SCENE III. Another Part of the Field. Enter King EDWARD, in triumph; with CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and the rest. K. Edw. 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; * Glo. The queen is valu'd thirty thousand strong, K. Edw. We are advértis'd by our loving friends, • 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. And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood; * * 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? 6 Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? • And Somerset another goodly mast? The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? • 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. 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 Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, * Infuse his breast with magnanimity, * And make him, naked, foil a man at arms. Oxf. Women and children of so high a courage 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. • Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else. |