'Left thou be hated both of God and man. [Exit, forced off by Soldiers. CLIF. How now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes ?—I'll open them. 'RUT. So looks the pent-up lion 3 o'er the wretch • That trembles under his devouring paws :4 And fo he walks, infulting o'er his prey; 'And fo he comes to rend his limbs afunder.Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy fword, And not with fuch a cruel threat'ning look. Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die ;I am too mean a subject for thy wrath, Be thou reveng❜d on men, and let me live. is he dead already? Or, is it fear, That makes him close his eyes?] This circumftance is taken from Hall: "Whilst this battail was in fighting, a prieste called Sir Robbert Afpall, chappelaine and schole-master to the yong erle of Rutlande, ii fonne to the above named duke of Yorke, scarce of the age of xii yeres, a faire gentleman, and a maydenlike perfon, perceyving that flight was more fafe-gard than tarrying, bothe for hym and his mafter, fecretly conveyd therle out of the felde, by the lord Cliffordes bande, toward the towne; but or he could entre into a house, he was by the fayd Lord Clifford efpied, folowed, and taken, and by refon of his apparell, demaunded what he was. The yong gentleman difmayed, had not a word to speake, but kneled on his knees, imploring mercy, and defiring grace, both with holding up his handes, and making dolorous countenance, for his fpeache was gone for feare." MALONE. 3 So looks the pent-up lion-] That is, The lion that hath been long confined without food, and is let out to devour a man condemned. JOHNSON. 4 - devouring paws:] Surely the epithet devouring, which might well have characterised the whole animal, is oddly bestowed on his paws. STEEVENS. CLIF. In vain thou fpeak'ft, poor boy; my fa ther's blood Hath ftopp'd the paffage where thy words should enter. RUT. Then let my father's blood open it again; He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. CLIF. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, Were not revenge fufficient for me; [Lifting his Hand. death : RUT. O, let me pray before I take my To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me! CLIF. Such pity as my rapier's point affords. 'RUT. I never did thee harm; Why wilt thou flay me? CLIF. Thy father hath. RUT. But 'twas ere I was born" 5 The fight of any of the house of York Is as a fury &c.] In Romeo and Juliet the fame idea is expreffed in humbler language: "A dog of the house of Montague moves me." STEEVENS. • But 'twas ere I was born.] Rutland is under a mistake. The battle of St. Albans, in which old Clifford was flain, happened in 1455; that of Wakefield in 1460. He appears to have been at this time about feventeen years old. RITSON. The author of the original play appears to have been as incorrect in his chronology as Shakspeare. Rutland was born, I believe, in 1443; according to Hall, in 1448; and Clifford's VOL. XIV. D Thou haft one fon, for his fake pity me; Ah, let me live in prifon all my days; Then let me die, for now thou haft no cause. CLIF. No cause? Thy father flew my father; therefore, die. [CLIFFORD ftabs him.. RUT. Dii faciant, laudis fumma fit ifta tuæ !8 [Dies. CLIF. Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet ! And this thy fon's blood cleaving to my blade, Shall ruft upon my weapon, till thy blood, Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. [Exit. father was killed at the battle of St. Albans, in 1455. Confequently Rutland was then at least seven years old; more probably twelve. The fame obfervation has been made by an anonymous writer. MALONE. 7—fith-] i. e. fince. So, in The Merry Wives of Windfor: —fith you yourself know how easy it is to be fuch an offender." STEEVENS. Dii faciant, &c.] This line is in Ovid's Epiftle from Phillis to Demophoon. I find the fame quótation in Have with you to Saffron Walden, or Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is up, &c. 1596: STEEVENS. My uncles both are flain in refcuing me ;9 And all my followers to the eager foe 'Turn back, and fly, like fhips before the wind, Or lambs purfu'd by hunger-ftarved wolves. 8 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 hardieft 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! 9 My uncles both are flain in rescuing me ;] Thefe 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 STEEVENS. 'We bodg'd again; as I have seen a fwan With bootlefs labour fwim 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 ftrong, I would not fhun their fury: The fands are number'd, that make up my life; Here muft I stay, and here my life muft end. Enter Queen MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers. 'Come, bloody Clifford,-rough Northumberland, I dare your quenchlefs fury to more rage; NORTH. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. CLIF. Ay, to fuch mercy, as his ruthless arm, With downright payment, fhow'd unto my father. We bodg'd again;] I find bodgery ufed by Nashe in his Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593, for botchery: "Do you know your own mifbegotten bodgery?" To bodge might therefore mean, (as to botch does now) to do a thing imperfectly and aukwardly; and thence to fail or mifcarry 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 precife fenfe required here. So, Coriolanus, fpeaking of his army who had fled from their adverfaries : "The moufe ne'er fhunn'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 unskilful tailor is often called a botcher. STEEVENS. |