Which, like the meteors of a troubled heav'n,
All of one nature, of one fubftance bred,
Did lately meet in the inteftine fhock
And furious close of civil butchery,

Shall now, in mutual, well-befeeming, ranks
March all one way; and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies;
The edge of war, like an ill-fheathed knife,
No more fhall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the fepulchre of Chrift,

Whose foldier now, under whose bleffed Cross
We are impreffed, and engag'd to fight,
Forthwith a Power of English fhall we levy;
Whofe arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
To chase these Pagans, in those holy fields
Over whofe acres walk'd those bleffed feer,
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd
For our advantage on the bitter Crofs.

But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootlefs 'tis to tell you we will go;
Therefore, we meet not now. Then let me hear,
Of
you my gentle Cousin Weftmorland,

befeeming ranks march all one way; but from the nature of thofe metears to which they are compared; namely long ftreaks of red, which reprefent the lines of armies; the appearance of which, and their likeness to fuch lines, gave occafion to all the fuperftition of the common people concerning armies in the air, &c. Out of mere contradiction, the Oxford Editor would improve my alteration of files to arms, and fo lofes both the integrity of the metaphor and the likeness of the comparison. WARBURT. This paffage is not very accurate in the expreffion, but I think nothing can be changed.

5 As far as to the fepulchre,

&c.] The lawfulnets and juftice of the holy wars have been much difputed; but perhaps there is a principle on which the queftion may be eafily determined. If it be part of the religion of the Mahometans, to extirpate by the fword all other religions, it is, by the law of felf defence, lawful for men of every other religion, and for Christians among others, to make war upon Mahometans, fimply as Mahometans, as men obliged by their own principles to make war upon Chriftians, and only lying in wait till opportunity shall promife them fuccefs.

What

What yefternight our Council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience. "

Weft. My Liege, this hafte was hot in question,
7 And many limits of the Charge fet down
But yefternight: when, all athwart, there came
A Poft from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Lerefordshire to fight
Against th' irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken;
A thousand of his people butchered,

Upon whofe dead corps there was fuch mifufe,
Such beaftly, fhameless transformation,
By thofe Welforwomen done, a, may not be,
Without much fhame, re-told or spoken of. -

K. Henry. It feems then, that the tidings of this broil

Brake off our bufinefs for the holy Land.

Weft. This, matcht with other, did, my gracious lord;

For more uneven and unwelcome news

Came from the North, and thus it did import.
On holy-rood day, the gallant Hot-fpur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Helmedon fpent a fad and bloody hour,
As by difcharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he, that brought it, in the very heat
And pride of their contention, did take horse,
Uncertain of the iffue any way.

K. Henry. Here is a dear and true induftrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horfe,
Stain'd with the variation of each foil

Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours:

6

this dear expedience. ] For expedition.

WARBURTON.

7 And many limits Limits for effimates,

WARBURT.
And

With fcruples, and do fet the word it felf

Against the word; as thus; Come, little ones; and then again,

It is as hard to come, as for a Camel

To thread the postern of a needle's eye.
Thoughts, tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders; how thefe vain weak nails
May tear a paffage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prifon-walls,
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themfelves,
That they are not the firft of fortune's flaves,
And shall not be the laft; like filly beggars,
Who, fitting in the Stocks, refuge their fhame
That many have, and others must fit there;
And, in this thought, they find a kind of eafe,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of fuch as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play I, in one prifon, many people,
And none contented. Sometimes am I King,
Then treafon makes me with my felf a beggar,
And fo I am. Then crushing penury
Perfuades me, I was better when a King;
Then am I king'd again; and by and by,
Think, that I am unking'd by Bolingbrike,
And ftraight am nothing. But what-e'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is
With nothing fhall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Mufick do I hear? [Mufick.
Ha, ha, keep time: how fow'r fweet mufick is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept?
So is it in the mufick of mens' lives
And here have I the daintinefs of ear,
To check time broke in a diforder'd string,
But for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wafted time, and now doth time wafte me,
For now hath time made me his numbring clock,

My thoughts are minutes; and 'with fighs they jar,
Their watches to mine eyes the outward watch;
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

Is pointing fill, in cleanfing them from tears.
Now, Sir, the founds, that tell what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell; fo fighs, and tears, and groans,
Shew minutes, hours, and times. O, but my time
Runs pofting on, in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I ftand fooling here, his jack o'th'clock.
This mufick mads me, let it found no more;
For though it have help'd mad men to their wits,
In me, it feems, it will make wife men mad.
Yet bleffing on his heart, that gives it me!
For 'tis a fign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch, in this all-hating world.

2

with fighs they jar, Their watches, &c.] I think this expreffion must be corrupt, but I know not well how to make it better. The firit quarto reads,

My thoughts are minutes; and with highs they jar, There watches to mine eyes the outward watch. The fecond quarto:

avith fight they jar, There watches on unto mine eyes the outward watch. The first folio agrees with the fecond quarto.

My thoughts are minutes, and FALL-HATING, i. e. Love to Richard is a very rare jewel, in a world that fhuns and avoids thofe who are fallen, or in miffortunes. WARBURTON. I believe the meaning is, this world in which I am univerfally hated.

Perhaps out of thefe two readings the right may be made. Watch feems to be used in a

SCENE

SCENE XI.

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal Prince!

K. Rich. Thanks, noble Peer.

The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
What art? how com'ft thou hither?

'Where no man ever comes, but that fad dog,
That brings me food, to make misfortune live?
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, King,
When thou wert King; who travelling tow'rds York,
With much ado, at length have gotten leave
To look upon my fometime Mafter's Face.
O, how it yearn'd my heart, when I beheld,
In London streets, that Coronation day,
When Bolingbroke rode on Roan Barbary,
That horse, that thou so often haft bestrid;
That horfe, that I fo carefully have drefs'd..

K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? tell me, gentle friend, How went he under him?

Groom. So proudly, as he had difdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud, that Bolingbroke was on his back! That jade had eat bread from my royal hand, This hand hath made him proud with clapping him Would he not ftumble? would he not fall down, Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck Of that proud man, that did ufurp his back? Forgiveness, horfe; why do I rail on thee,