Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day?
Clar. O, I have passed a miserable night,
So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams,
That, as I am a Christian, faithful man,
I would not spend another such a night,
Though 't were to buy a world of happy days,
So full of dismal terror was the time!
Brak. What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it.
Clar. Methoughts, that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embarked to cross to Burgundy;
And, in my company, my brother Gloster;
Who, from my cabin, tempted me to walk
Upon the hatches; thence we looked toward England,
And cited up a thousand fearful times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befallen us. As we paced along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.
Oh, then, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea.
Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
Which wooed the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.
Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon the secrets of the deep?
Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth
To seek the empty, vast, and wandering air;
But smothered it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.
Brak. Awaked you not with this sore agony?
Clar. Oh, no; my dream was lengthened after life;
Oh, then began the tempest to my soul,
Who passed, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
The first that there did greet my stranger soul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowne'd Warwick;
Who cried aloud, "What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?"
And so he vanished. Then came wandering by
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood; and he shrieked out aloud:
"Clarence is come! false, fleeting, perjured Clarence!
That stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury:
Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!"
With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
Environed me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise,
I, trembling, waked, and, for a season after,
Could not believe but that I was in hell;
Such terrible impression made the dream.
Brak. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you;
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. O Brakenbury, I have done those things,
Which now bear evidence against my soul,
For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me!
O God! if my deep prayers can not appease thee,
But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone:
Oh, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!
—I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
Brak. I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest!
CLARENCE reposes himself on a chair.
Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
Shakespeare.—Richard III, Act i, Scene iv.
NOTES.—The houses of York and Lancaster were at war for the possession of the English throne. The Duke of Clarence and the Duke of Gloster were brothers of King Edward IV., who was head of the house of York. Clarence married the daughter of the Earl of Warwick, and joined the latter in several insurrections against the king. They finally plotted with Queen Margaret of the Lancaster party for the restoration of the latter house to the English throne, but Clarence betrayed Warwick and the Queen, and killed the latter's son at the battle of Tewksbury. Through the plots of Gloster, Clarence was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and there murdered.
Brakenbury was lieutenant of the Tower.
The ferryman referred to is Charon, of Greek mythology, who was supposed to ferry the souls of the dead over the river Acheron to the infernal regions.
CVI. HOMEWARD BOUND. (371)
Richard H. Dana, Jr., 1815-1882, was the son of Richard H. Dana, the poet. He was born in Cambridge, Mass. In his boyhood be had a strong desire to be a sailor, but by his father's advice chose a student's life, and entered Harvard University. At the age of nineteen an affection of the eyes compelled him to suspend his studies. He now made a voyage to California as a common sailor, and was gone two years. On his return, he resumed his studies and graduated in 1837. He afterwards studied law, and entered upon an active and successful practice. Most of his life was spent in law and politics, although he won distinction in literature.
The following extract is from his "Two Years before the Mast," a book published in 1840, giving an account of his voyage to California. This book details, in a most clear and entertaining manner, the everyday life of a common sailor on shipboard, and is the best known of all Mr. Dana's works. ###