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for our eyes do hate the dire aspect ivil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords ;

ve think, the eagle-winged pride Of sky--1; Iring and ambitious thoughts With rival-hating Envy set you on, To wake our Peace,? which in our country's cradle Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; ] Which thus rouz'd up with boist'rous uncun'd drums, And harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful Bray, And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,

* And for we think, the eagle. Edition) coming to this place,

winged pride, &c.] These found five lines, in the first Edifive verses are omitted in the tion of this play printed in 1598, other editions, and restored from omitted in the first general colthe first of 1598.

Pope. lection of the poet's works; and 3 To wake our Peace, not enough attending to their

which thus rouz'd up. agreement with the common text, Migbt fright fair Peace,] Thus put them into their place. Wherethe sentence stands in the com as, in truth, the five lines were mon reading, absurdly enough: omitted by Shakespeare himself, which made the Oxford Editor, as not agreeing to the rest of the instead of, fright fair Peace, read, context; which, on revise, he be afrighted; as if these latter thought fit to alter. On this acwords could ever, possibly, have count I have put them into hooks, been blundered into the former not as spurious, but as rejected by transcribers. But his business on the author's revise; and, inis to alter as his fancy leads him, deed, with great judgment; for, not to reform errors, as the text To wake our Peace, which in our and rules of criticism, direct. In

country's cradle a word, then, the true original Draws the sweet infant breath of the blunder was this : 'I he of gentle feet, Editors, before Mr. Pope, had as pretty as it is in the image, is taken their Editions from the Fo- absurd in the sense: For Peace lios, in which the text stood thus, awake is still Peace, as well as -the dire aspect

when asleep. The difference is, Of civil wounds plough'd up with that Peace asleep gives one the neighbour swords;

notion of a happy people funk Which thus rouz'd up,

in sloth and luxury, which is not -fright fair Peace.

the idea the speaker would raise, This is sense. But Mr. Pope, and from which state, the sconer who carefully examined the first it was awaked the better. printed plays in Quarto, (very

WARBURTON. much to the advantage of his VOL. IV. C


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Might from our quiet Confines fright fair Peace,
And make us wade even in our kindred's blood :
Therefore, we banish you our Territories.
You cousin Hereford, on pain of death,
Till twice five Summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our fair Dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of Banishment.

Boling. Your will be done. This must my comfort be,
That Sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me:
And those his golden beams, to you here lent,
Shall point on me, and gild my Banishment.

K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier Doom,
Which I with some unwillingness pronounce.
The fly-flow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exile :
The hopeless word, of never to return,
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Momb. A heavy Sentence, my most fovereign Liege,
And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth.
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim,
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your Highness' hands.
The language I have learn’d these forty years,
My native English, now I must forego ;
And now my tongue's use is to me no more,
Than an unstringed viol, or a harp;
Or, like a cunning Instrument cas’d

Or being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Within my mouth you have engoal'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis’d with my Teeth and Lips ;
And dull, unfeeling, barren Ignorance
Is made my Goaler to attend on me.

4 A dearer merit, uot so decy I wih fome copy would exhibit, maim,

A dearer mede, and not so deep Have I defervet, &c. - -]

a mriin. To deferve a merit is a phrase of To de cr-ve a mede or reward, is rewhich I know not any example. gular and easy.

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I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a Pupil now;
What is thy Sentence then, but speechless death,
Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?

K. Rich. s It boots thee not to be compassionate ;
After our Sentence, Plaining comes too late.

Mowb. Then thus I turn me from my country's light,
To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with ye.
Lay on our royal Sword your banish'd hands;
Swear by the duty that you owe to heav'n,
• (Our part therein we banish with your selves,)
To keep the oath that we administer.
You never fall, fo help you truth, and heav'n!
Embrace each other's love in Banishment;
Nor ever look upon each other's face,
Nor ever write, regreet, or reconcile
This low'ring tempest of your home-bred hate ;
Nor ever by advised purpose meet,
To plot, contrive, or complot any Ill,

us, our State, our Subjects, or our Land.
Boling. I swear.
Mowb. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. * Norfolk,- so far, as to mine enemy
By this

time, had the King permitted us,
One of our souls had wandred in the air,
Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
s Compasionate, for plaintive. - Norfolk, – so far, &c ] I

WARBURTON. do not clearly see what is the (Our part, &c.] It is a sense of this abrupt line, but question much debated amongst fuppose the meaning to be this. the writers of the Law of Na- Hereford immediately after his tions, whether a banith'd man be oath of perpetuat enmity adstill tied in allegiance to the state dresses Norfolk, and, fearing fome. which sent him into exile. Tully misconstruction, turns to the king and Lord Chancellor (Lirendox and fays--| fur to mine enemy declare for the affirmative: Hobbs --that is, I flould say niling zo and Pufferdorf hold the negative. him but what enemies may suy lo Our author, by this line, seems to

each other. be of the fame opinion. WARB.


As now our fesh is banish'd from this Land,
Confess thy treasons, ere thou fy this Realm ;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.

Mowb. No, Bolingbroke ; if ever I were traitor,
My Name be blotted from the Book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd as from hence !
But what thou art, heav'n, thou, and I do know,
And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue.
Farewel, my Liege. Now no way can I ftray,
Save back to England; all the world's my way.' (Exit.

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K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart, thy sad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away.—Six frozen winters spent, (To Bol. Return with Welcome home from Banishment.

Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! Four lagging Winters, and four wanton Springs, End in a word; such is the Breath of Kings.

Gaunt. I thank my Liege, that in regard of me He shortens four years of my son's exile : But little vantage shall I reap thereby; For ere the six years, that he hath to spend, Can change their moons and bring their times about, My oyl-dry'd lamp, and time-bewasted light, Shall be extinct with age, and endless night : My inch of taper will

be burnt and done : And blindfold death not let me see my son.

K. Rich. Why, uncle ? thou hast many years to live.

Gaunt. But not a minute, King, that thou canst give; Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,

all the world's my way.] Perhaps Milton had this in his mind when he wrote these lines.

The world was all before them,

where to chufe Their place of reft, and Provi. den e their guide.



And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; *
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage ;
Thy word is current with him, for my death;
But dead, thy Kingdom cannot buy my breath.

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave;
Why at our justice seem'it thou then to low'r ?

Gaunt. Things, sweet to taste, prove in digestion sow'r.
You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather,
You would have bid me argue like a father.
O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
To smooth his Fault, I would have been more mild :
Alas, I look'd, when some of you should say,
I was too strict to make mine own away :

you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will, to do my self this wrong.
A partial Nander + fought I to avoid,
And in the Sentence my own life destroy'd.

K. Ricb. Cousin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him fo: Six years we banish him, and he shall go. [Flourish.

[Exit. S CE NE VI. Aum. Cousin, farewel; what presence must not know, From where you do remain, let paper show.

Mar. My lord, no leave take 1, for I will ride As far as land will let me, by your fide.

Gaunt.Oh, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, That thou return'st no Greeting to thy friends ?

Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue's office should be prodigal,
To breathe th' abundant dolour of the heart.
Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.

And plurk nights from me, but ing evil than good.

not lend a morrow ;] It is A partial fander] That matter of very melancholy con- is, the reproach of partiality. This fideration, that all human advan- is a just picture of the struggle "ges confer more power of do- between principle and affection.


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