So cowardly and but for thefe vile guns, CHA P. XXII. CLARENCE'S DREAM. BRAK. HY looks your Grace fo heavily to-day? WH CLAR. O, I have pafs'd a miferable night, So full of ugly fights, of ghafly dreams, That as I am a Chriftian faithful man, I would not fpend another fuch a night, So full of dismal terror was the time. BRAK. What was your dream, my Lord? I pray you tell me. CLAR. Methought that I had broken from the tow'r, And was imbark'd to cross to Burgundy, And in my company my brother Glo'fter; Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England, And cited up a thoufand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us. As we pafs'd along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Glo'fter ftumbled, and in falling Struck me (that fought to ftay him) over-board, Into the tumbling billows of the main. Lord, Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noife of waters in my ears! What fights of ugly death within mine eyes! I thought I faw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Some lay in dead men's fculls; and in those holes That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep, CLAR. Methought I had; and often did I ftrive BRAK. Awak'd you not with this fore agony? CLAR. No, no; my dream was lengthen'd after life; O then began the tempeft to my foul: I pafs'd, methought, the melancholy flood, The first that there did greet my ftranger-foul, Clarence is come, falfe, fleeting, perjured Clarence, That ftabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends BRAK. No marvel, Lord, that it affrighted you ;' CLAR. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done those things That now give evidence against my foul, For Edward's fake; and fee how he requites me! Yet execute thy wrath on me alone: O fpare my guiltlefs wife, and my poor children! My foul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. CHA P. XXIII. QUEEN SHAKESPEAR. M A B. THEN I fee Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fancy's midwife, and the comes In fhape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman; Athwart men's nofes as they lie afleep: Her waggon spokes made of long spinners' legs; The collars of the moonshine's watery beams; Her whip of cricket's bone; the lafh of film; Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck, CHAP. SHAKESPEAR. XXIV. APOTHECARY. DO remember an apothecary, I' And hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling Culling of fimples; meagre were his looks; Of ill-fhap'd fishes; and about his fhelves Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Here lives a caitiff wretch would fell it him. Oh, this fame thought did but fore-run my need, And this fame needy man must fell it me. As I remember, this fhould be the house. SHAKESPEAR. CHA P. XXV. ODE TO EVENING. Faught of oaten ftop, or paftoral fong, Thy fprings, and dying gales, O Nymph referv'd, while now the bright hair'd fun O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hufh'd, fave where the weak-eyed bat, |