THE defection of Clarence from the cause of his orother has been worked up by the poet into a sudden resolve;-it was probably the result of much contrivance slowly operating upon a feeble mind, coupled with his own passion for the daughter of Warwick. What is rapid and distinct in the play is slow and obscure in the Chronicles. Warwick and Clarence in the play are quickly transformed into enemies to the brother and the ally; in the Chronicles we have to trace them through long courses of intrigue and deception. When Warwick possessed himself of the person of Edward, it is difficult, from the contemporary historians, to understand his real intentions. Hall, however, who compiles with a picturesque eye, tells the story of his capture and release in a manner which was not unfitted to be expanded into dramatic effect :-"All the king's doings were by espials declared to the Earl of Warwick, which, like a wise and politic captain, intending not to lose so great an advantage to him given, but

trusting to bring all his purposes to a final end and determination by only obtaining this enterprise, in the dead of the night, with an elect company of men of war, as secretly as was possible, set on the king's field, killing them that kept the watch, and or the king were ware (for he thought of nothing less than of that chance that happened), at a place called Wolney, four miles from Warwick, he was taken prisoner, and brought to the castle of Warwick. And to the intent that the king's friends might not know where he was, nor what was chanced of him, he caused him by secret journeys in the night to be conveyed to Middleham Castle in Yorkshire, and there to be kept under the custody of the Archbishop of York his brother, and other his trusty friends, which entertained the king like his estate, and served him like a prince. But there was no place so far off but that the taking of the king was shortly known there with the wind, which news made many men to fear and greatly to dread, and

many to wonder and lament the chance. King Edward, being thus in captivity, spake ever fair to the archbishop and to the other keepers; but, whether he corrupted them with money or fair promises, he had liberty divers days to go on hunting; and one day on a plain there met with him Sir William Stanley, Sir Thomas of Borogh, and divers other of his friends, with such a great band of men, that neither his keepers would nor once durst move him to return to prison again."

In the beginning of 1471 Edward was a fugitive, almost without a home. The great Earl of Warwick had placed Henry again in the nominal seat of authority; a counter-revolution had been effected. By one of those bold movements which set aside all calculation of consequences Edward leaped once more into the throne of England. In an age when perjury and murder were equally resorted to, Edward, on landing, did not hesitate to disguise his real objects, and to maintain that he was in arms only to enforce his claims as Duke of York. The scene before the walls of York is quite borne out by the contemporary historians; and especially in that most curious 'Historie of the arrival of Edward IV. in England,' published by the Camden Society. Shakspere evidently went to Hall as his authority :-"King Edward, without any words spoken to him, came peaceably near to York, of whose coming when the citizens were certified, without delay they armed themselves and came to defend the gates, sending to him two of the chiefest aldermen of the city, which earnestly admonished him on their behalf to come not one foot nearer, nor temerariously to enter into so great a jeopardy, considering that they were fully determined and bent to compel him to retract with dint of sword. King Edward, marking well their message, was not a little troubled and unquieted in his mind, and driven to seek the farthest point of his wit; for he had both two mischievous and perilous chances even before his eyes, which were hard to be evaded or repelled :— one was, if he should go back again he feared lest the rural and common people, for covetousness of prey and spoil, would fall on him, as one that fled away for fear and dread; the other was, if he should proceed any farther in his journey, then might the citizens of York issue out with all their power, and suddenly circumvent him and take him. Wherefore he determined to set forward,

neither with army nor with weapon, but with lowly words and gentle entreatings, requiring most heartily the messengers that were sent to declare to the citizens that he came neither to demand the realm of England nor the superiority of the same, but only the duchy of York, his old inheritance; the which duchy if he might by their means readopt and recover, he would never pass out of his memory so great a benefit and so friendly a gratuity to him exhibited. And so, with fair words and flattering speech, he dismissed the messengers; and with good speed he and his followed so quickly after, that they were almost at the gates as soon as the ambassadors. The citizens, hearing his good answer, that he meant nor intended nothing prejudicial to King Henry nor his royal authority, were much mitigated and cooled, and began to commune with him from their walls, willing him to convey himself into some other place without delay, which if he did, they assured him that he should have neither hurt nor damage. But he, gently speaking to all men, and especially to such as were aldermen, whom he called worshipful, and by their proper names them saluted, after many fair promises to them made, exhorted and desired them that, by their favourable friendship and friendly permission, he might enter into his own town, of the which he had both his name and title. All the whole day was consumed in doubtful communication and earnest interlocution. The citizens, partly won by his fair words, and partly by hope of his large promises, fell to this pact and convention, that if King Edward would swear to entertain his citizens of York after a gentle sort and fashion, and hereafter to be obedient and faithful to all King Henry's commandments and precepts, that then they would receive him into their city, and aid and comfort him with money. King Edward (whom the citizens called only Duke of York), being glad of this fortunate chance, in the next morning, at the gate where he should enter, a priest being ready to say mass, in the mass time, receiving the body of our blessed Saviour, solemnly swearing to keep and observe the two articles above mentioned and agreed upon, when it was far unlike that he either intended or purposed to observe any of them, which afterwards was to all men manifest."

Enter, upon the walls, WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others.

War. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?

How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? 1 Mess. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.

War. How far off is our brother Montague? Where is the post that came from Montague ? 2 Mess. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.

Enter Sir JOHN SOMERVILLE.

War. Say, Somerville, what says my loving

son?

And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now? Som. At Southam I did leave him with his forces,

And do expect him here some two hours hence. [Drum heard.

War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.

Som. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies;

The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.

War. Who should that be? belike, unlook'd

for friends.

Som. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.

Drums. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOSTER, and Forces, marching.

K. Edw. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.

Glo. See, how the surly Warwick mans the wall.

War. O, unbid spite! is sportful Edward come?

Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduc'd, That we could hear no news of his repair?

K. Ed. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates,

Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy

knee,

Call Edward king, and at his hands beg mercy,And he shall pardon thee these outrages?

War. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,

Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down,

Call Warwick patron, and be penitent,—
And thou shalt still remain the duke of York?
Glo. I thought, at least, he would have said
the king;

Or did he make the jest against his will?

War. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift? Glo. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give; I'll do thee service for so good a gift.

War. "T was I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.

K. Edw. Why then 't is mine, if but by Warwick's gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight: And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.

K. Edw. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:

And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this,
What is the body when the head is off?

Glo. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,

But whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The king was slyly finger'd from the deck!a
You left poor Henry at the bishop's palace,
And, ten to one, you 'll meet him in the Tower.
K. Edw. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick
still.

Glo. Come, Warwick, take the time, kneel

down, kneel down:

Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools. War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,

And with the other fling it at thy face.
Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee.

K. Edw. Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend;

This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair,

Shall, whiles thy head is warm, and new cut off,

a Deck-a pack of cards was formerly called a deck.

There is a similar example in Selimus, 1594:

Well, if I chance but once to get the deck,
To deal about and shuffle as I would."

Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood, Wind-changing Warwick now can change no

more.

Enter OXFORD, with drum and colours. War. O cheerful colours! see, where Oxford comes !

Oxf. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!

[OXFORD and his Forces enter the City. Glo. The gates are open, let us enter too. K. Edw. So other foes may set upon our backs.

Stand we in good array; for they, no doubt,
Will issue out again and bid us battle:
If not, the city, being but of small defence,
We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.
War. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy
help.

Enter MONTAGUE, with drum and colours. Mont. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the City. Glo. Thou and thy brother both shall 'by this treason

Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.

K. Edw. The harder match'd, the greater vic

tory:

My mind presageth happy gain, and conquest. Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours. Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his Forces enter the City. Glo. Two of thy name, both dukes of So

merset,

Have sold their lives unto the house of York; And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colours. War. And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,

Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,
More than the nature of a brother's love:
Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt if Warwick
call.

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

[Taking the red rose out of his cap. Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:

I will not ruinate my father's house,
Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
And set up
Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, War-
wick,

That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of war

Against his brother and his lawful king?
Perhaps, thou wilt object my holy oath :
To keep that oath were more impiety
Than Jephtha's, when he sacrificed his daughter.
I am so sorry for my trespass made,
That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee if thou stir abroad,)
To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.
Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;
And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
K. Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times
more belov❜d,

Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.
Glo. Welcome, good Clarence; this is bro-
ther-like.

War. O passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust! K. Edw. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
War. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence:
I will away towards Barnet presently,
And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

K. Edw. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way:

Lords, to the field; Saint George, and victory. [March. Exeunt.

SCENE II.-4 Field of Battle near Barnet. Alarums and Excursions. Enter KING EDWARD bringing in WARWICK, wounded.

K. Edu. So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear;

For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.
Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.
[Exit.

War. Ah, who is nigh? come to me friend or foe,

And tell me who is victor, York, or Warwick?
Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart
shows,

That I must yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept;

a Passing-surpassing.

Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,

And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.

These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,

Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun
To search the secret treasons of the world:
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;

For who liv'd king but I could dig his grave? And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and of all my lands
Is nothing left me, but my body's length!
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and
dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

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, couldst thou fly!

War. Why, then I would not fly.-Ah, Mon

tague,

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile!
Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
That glues my lips, and will not let me speak.
Come, quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd

his last;

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,
That might not be distinguish'd; but, at last,
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
You all farewell, to meet in heaven." [Dies.
Oxf. Away, away, to meet the queen's great

power.

[Exeunt, bearing off WARWICK's body.

a In this line the word again has been interpolated in early modern editions" to meet again in heaven."