Submiffion to Heaven, our Duty.

(7) 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.

ACT III. SCENE V.

The Vanity of Trust in Man.

(8) 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 mast,

Ready with every nod to tumble down

Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

SCENE VIII. Contemplation.

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

Defcription of the Murder of the two young Princes in the Tower.

The tyrannous and bloody act is done : The moit arch deed of piteous massacre,

That

(7) In, &c.] This is fpoken by the marquis of Dorset to the queen, when bewailing the loss of her husband Edward IV.

(8) 0, &c.] This poffibly might have rifen from the following lines in the 118th pfalm.

That ever yet this land was guilty of!
Dighton and Forreft, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthlefs butchery.
Albeit they were flefht villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tendernefs and mild compaffion,
Wept like two children in their death's fad ftory.
O thus (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle babes ;
Thus, thus, (quoth Forreft,) girdling one another
Within their innocent alabaster arms;

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
And in their fummer beauty kiss'd each other.
A book of prayers on their pillow lay,

Which once, (quoth Forreft) almoft chang'd my mind:
But, oh! the devil-there the villain stopt:
When Dighton thus told on-we fmothered
The most replenished sweet work of nature,
That from the prime creation e'er fhe framed-
Hence both are gone with confcience and remorse:
They could not speak, and so I left them both,
To bear these tidings to the bloody king.

Expedition.

(9) Come, I have learn'd, that fearful commenting, Is leaden furvitor to dull delay:

Delay leads impotent and fnail-pac'd beggary.

Then fiery expedition be my wing,

Jove's mercury, and herald for a king.

SCENE

It is better to truft in the Lord, than to put any confidence in

man.

It is better to truft in the Lord, than to put any confidence in princes, &c. See too the 20th pfalm.

Come, &c.] The favourite apophthegm of Alexander was Mnder avaßanλoμevos: nothing is to be delay'd; and Cafar, his great rival, in Lucan's Pharfalia fays,

Tolle moras, femper nocuit differve parati.

Hence dull delays, they harm the cause in hand.
VOL. III.

M

SCENE IV. Queen Margaret's Exprobation.

I call'd thee then poor fhadow, painted queen,
One heav'd on high, to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;
A dream of what thou waft; a garish flag,
To be the aim of ev'ry dangerous fhot;
A fign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A queen in jeft, only to fill the fcene.

Where is thy husband now, where be thy brothers?
Where be thy children? wherein doft thou joy?
Who fues and kneels, and fays, God fave the queen?
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee ?
Decline all this, and fee what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most diftreffed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being fu'd to, one that humbly fues;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;

For one that fcorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, (10) now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the courfe of juftice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;

Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.

SCENE V. His Mother's Character of King

Richard.

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school days frightful, defp'rate, wild, and furious

:

Thy

(10) Now fearing one. ] It is very poffible to understand and give fenfe to this, as it is now read; but I should apprehend the author wrote,

For one being fear'd of all, now fearing all:

and this correction not only the next line, but the whole manner of the fpeech, as well as the fuperior elegance given to the paffage, feem to confirm.

Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, fly and bloody.

True hope is fwift, and flies with fwallows wings; Kings it makes gods; and meaner creatures kings,

SCENE III. A fine Evening.

The weary fun hath made a golden fet, And, by the bright tract of his fiery car, Gives fignal of a goodly day to-morrow.

SCENE IV. Day-break.

The filent hours steal on,
And flaky darkness breaks within the east.

Richmond's Prayer.

O thou! whofe captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye:
Put in their hands thy bruifing irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
Th' ufurping helmets of our adverfaries!
Make us thy minifters of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in thy victory.
To thee I do commend my watchful foul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping and waking, oh, defend me ftill!

SCENE V. Richard Atarting out of his Dream.

up my wounds.

Give me another horfe-bind
Have mercy, Jefu-Soft, I did but dream,

M 2

O coward

O coward confcience! how dost thou afflict me?
The light burns blue-is it not dead mid-night?
Cold fearful drops ftand on my trembling flesh.
What do I fear myself?

Confcience is but a word that cowards ufe, Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.

Richard before the Battle.

A thousand hearts are great within my bofom,
Advance our standards, fet upon our foes:
Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons,
Upon them (11) victory fits on our helms!

SCENE VIII. Alarum. Enter King Richard.

upon a cast,

K. Richard. A horfe! a horfe! my kingdom for a horfe! Cutes. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse. life my Slave, I have fet K. Richard. And I will stand the hazard of the dye; I think there be fix Richmonds in the field; Five have I flain to-day instead of him. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

[Exeunt.

(11) Victory, &c.] The image here is fine and noble: Milton defcribing Satan, fpeaks thus fublimely,

-His ftature reach'd the skies, and on his creft,

Sate horror plum'd!

And in another place, he fays,

-At his right hand victory
Sat eagle-wing'd

B. 6. 762.

General