« PreviousContinue »
Thus plated in habiliments of war:
Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold,
Baling. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my Soveraign's hand,
[To K. Rich. And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave.
K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Hereford, as thy Cause is right, So be thy Fortune in this royal fight; Farewel, my Blood; which if to day thou shed, (4) Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
Boling (4) Farewel, my blood ;] i.e. my Kinsman. This Appellation is purely classical. Projice tela manu, Sanguis meus. Virg. Æn. vi. ver. 836. - Tu Sanguinis ultimus auctor.
Id. Æn. VII. ver. 49
Horat. Carm. Sæcul.
Id. Art. Poet. ver. 292.
Boling. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear : As confident, as is the Faulcon's fight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving lord, I take my leave of you, Of you, my noble Cousin, lord. Aumerlé. Not sick, although I have to do with Death ; But lusty, young, and chearly drawing Breath. Lo, as at English Feafts, so I regreet The daintieft last, to make the end most sweet; Oh thou! the earthly author of my blood, [To Gaunt, Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up To reach at Victory above my head, Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers ; And with thy Blessings steel my Lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen Coat, And furbish new the Name of John o'Gaunt Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.
Gaunt. Heav'n in thy goodCause make thee prosperous! Be swift like Lightning in the execution, And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, Fall like amazing thunder on the Casque Of thy adverse pernicious enemy. Rouze up thy youthful blood, be brave and live.
Boling. Mine Innocence, God and St. George to thrive!
Mowb. However heav'n or fortune cast There lives, or dies, true to King Richard's Throne, A loyal, just and upright Gentleman ; Never did Captive with a freer heart Caft off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontrould enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This Feast of battel, with mine adverfary. Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peers,
tenet, longumg; tenebit Tarpeias årces Sanguis tuus.
Şil. Italicus. Lib. 3: vos, o Superi, meus, ordine Sanguis, Ne pugnate cdiis.
Statius. Theb. lib. 3. &c. &c. &c.
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years;
K. Rich. Farewel, my lord ; securely I espy
Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry Amen.
i Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
2 Her. Here ftandeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
Mar. Sound, Trumpets; and ler forward, Combatants.
[A long Flourish; after which, the King
Speaks to the Combatants.
With rival-hating Envy set you on,
Boling. Your will be done: this must my comfort be,
K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier Doom, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce. The fly-flow hours shall not determinate The dateless limit of thy dear exile : The hopeless word, of never to return, Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
Mowb. A heavy Sentence, my most soveraign Liege, And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth; A dearer merit, not so deep a maim, As to be cast forth in the common air, Have I deserved at your Highness' hands. The language I have learn'd these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo; And now my tongue's use is to me no more, Than an unstringed viol, or a harp, Or, like a cunning Instrument cas'd up, Or being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony. Within my mouth you have engoald my tongue, (5),
Doubly (5] Within my Mouth you have engoald my Tongue,
Doubly portcullisd with my Teeth and Lips :) These Verses Mr. Pope has degraded and thrown out of the Text, on Account of the Image convey'd in the second Line, as I presure. I am far from
Doubly port-cullis'd with my Teeth and Lips :
K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate ;
Mowb. Then thus I turn me from my country's light. To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with ye.
Boling. I swear.
Boling. Norfolk, so far, as to mine enemy:--
Mowb. No, Bolingbroke ; if ever I were traitor, praising the Metaphor; but, perhaps, the Usage might be defended for once from the Example of our Master Homer.
'Ατρείδη, ποϊόν σε επG φύγεν έρκα δόνων.. Iliad. Δ. ν. 35ο. The špx öfórw here, methinks, approaches very nigh to the Idea of a Port-cullife.