Thomas of Norfolk, what fay'ft thou to this? Mowb. O, let my Sovereign turn away his face, And bid his ears a little while be deaf, Till I have told this Slander of his blood, How God and good men hate fo foul a liar. 3 heir, K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. Were he our brother, nay, our Kingdom's As he is but our father's brother's fon; Now by my Scepter's awe, I make a vow, Such neighbour-nearness to our facred blood Should nothing priv'lege him, nor partialize Th' unftooping firmness of my upright foul. He is our Subject, Mowbray, fo art thou; Free speech, and fearless, I to thee allow. Mowb. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, The other part referv'd I by confent, Since laft I went to France to fetch his Queen. Now, fwallow down that Lie.-For Gloucefter's death, For you, my noble lord of Lancaster, 3 My Scepter's arve.] The reverence due to my Scepter. And interchangeably hurl down my gage Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bofom. K. Rich. Wrath-kindled Gentlemen, be rul'd by me; Gaunt. When, Harry? when Obedience bids, I fhould not bid again. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. * Mowb. My felf I throw, dread Sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my Shame; 4 This we preferibe, though no thyfician, &c.] I must make one Remark, in general, on the Rhymes throughout this whole play; they are fo much inferior to the rest of the writing, that they appear to me of a different hand. What confirms this, is, that the context does every where exactly (and frequently much better) connect without the inferted rhymes, except in a very few places; and just there too, the rhyming verses are of a much better tatte than all the others, which rather strengthens my conjecture. POPE. *No boot.] That is, no advanta e, no use, in delay or refufal. 5 My fair Name, &c.] That is, My name that lives on my grave in dight of death. This eafy paffage mot of the Editors feem to have mistaken. Pierc'd Pierc'd to the foul with flander's venom'd spear: K. Rich. Rage must be withstood. Give me his gage. Lions make Leopards tame. And I refign my gage. My dear, dear Lord, Mine Honour is my life, both grow in one; you K. Rich. Coufin, throw down your gage; do begin. Boling. Oh, heav'n defend my foul from fuch foul fin! Shall I feem creft-fall'n in my father's fight, 'Or with pale beggar face impeach my height, Before this out-dar'd Daftard? Ere my tongue Shall wound my Honour with fuch feeble wrong, Or found fo base a parle, my teeth fhall tear "The flavish motive of recanting fear, And fpit it bleeding, in his high difgrace, Where shame doth harbour, ev'n in Mowbray's face. [Exit Gaunt. K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to command, Which fince we cannot do to make you friends, Be ready, as your lives fhall answer it, At Coventry upon Saint Lambert's day. There fhall your Swords and Lances arbitrate Gaunt. [Exeunt. Changes to the Duke of Lancaster's Palace. A Las!* the part I had in Glo'fter's blood To fir against the butchers of his life. Dutch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper fpur? Or fev'n fair branches, fpringing froin one root: Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb, * The part I had] That is, my relation of confanguinity to Gloucefier. HANMER. Made him a man; and though thou liv'ft and breath'ft, Hath caus'd his death; the which if wrongfully, An angry arm against his Minifter. Dutch. Where then, alas, may I complain my felf? Gaunt. To heav'n, the widow's Champion and De-fence. Dutch. Why then, I will: farewel, old Gaunt,farewel. Thou go'ft to Coventry, there to behold Our Coufin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight. A caitiff recreant-] Caitif originally fignified a prifner; next a fave, from the condition of prifoners; then a fcoundrel, from the qualities of a flave. Ημισυ της αρλης αποακνυται δέλιον ήμαρ. In this paffage it partakes of all thefe fignifications. Gaunt. |