Attending but the Signal to begin. [A Charge founded. Mar. Sound Trumpets; and fet forward, Comba tants. -But ftay, the King hath thrown his warder down. And Both return back to their chairs again. Draw near; [A long Flourifb; after which, the King And lift, what with our Council we have done. Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords; With rival-hating Envy fet you on, To wake our Peace (3), which in our country's cradle Draws (2) And for we think, the eagle-winged pride, &c.] These five verfes are omitted in the other editions, and restored from the first of 1598. (3) To wake our Peace, which thus roux'd up Porz Might fright fair Peace.] Thus the fentence ftands in the common reading, abfurdly enough: which made the Oxford Editor, inHead of, fright fair Peace, read, be affrighted; as if these latter words could ever, poffibly, have been blundered into the former by tranfcribers. But his bufinefs is to alter as his fancy leads him, not to reform errors, as the text and rules of criticifm direct. In a word, then, the true original of the blunder was this: The Editors, before Mr. Pope, had taken their Editions from the Folios, in which the text ftood thus. the dire afpect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords fright fair Peace, This is fenfe. But Mr. Pope, who carefully examined the firft printed plays in Quarto (very much to the advantage of his Edition) coming to this place, found five lines, in the first Edition of this play printed in 1598, omitted in the first general collection of the poet's works; and not enough attending to their agreement with the Draws the fweet infant breath of gentle fleep ;] Till twice five Summers have enrich'd our fields, But tread the ftranger paths of Banishment. my Boling. Your will be done. This must comfort be, That Sun, that warms you here, fhall fhine on me : And thofe his golden beams, to you here lent, Shall point on ine, and gild my Banishment. K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier Doom, Which I with fome unwillingness pronounce. The fly-flow hours fhall not determinate The datelefs limit of thy dear exile: The hopeless word, of never to return, Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. Mowb. A heavy Sentence, my moft fovereign Liege, And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth. A dearer merit, not fo deep a maim (4), the common text, put them into their place. Whereas, in truth, the five lines were omitted by Shakespeare himself, as not agreeing to the rest of the context; which, on revife, he thought fit to alter. On this account I have put them into hooks, not as fpurious, but as rejected on the author's revife; and, indeed, with great judgment; for, To wake our Peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the fweet infant breath of gentle fleep, as pretty as it is in the image, is abfurd in the fenfe; For Peace awake is ftill Peace, as well as when afleep. The difference is, that Peace afleep gives one the notion of a happy people funk in floth and luxury, which is not the idea the speaker would raise, and from which state the fooner it was awaked the better. (4) A dearer merit, not fo deep a maim, Have I deferved, &c. -] WARBURTON. To deferve a merit is a phrafe of which I know not any example. I wish fome copy would exhibit. A dearer mede, and not fo deep a maim. To deferve a mede or reward, is regular and easy. As As to be caft forth in the common air, That knows no touch to tune the harmony. What is thy Sentence then, but fpeechlefs death, Mob. Then thus I turn me from my Country's light, To dwell in folemn fhades of endless night. K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with ye. You never fhall, fo help you truth, and heav'n! This low'ring tempeft of your home-bred hate; To plot, contrive, or complot any Ill, (5) Compaffionate, for plaintive. ARBURTON. (6) (Our part, &c.] It is a queftion much debated amongst the writers of the Law of Nations, whether a banifh'd man be ftill tied in allegiance to the ftate which fent him into exile. Tully and Lord Chancellor Clarendon declare for the affirmative: Hobbes and Puffendorf hold the negative. Our author, by this line, feems to be of the fame opinion. WARB. Mowb. Mowb. And I, to keep all this. Boling. Norfolk,-fo far, as to mine enemy- Mowh. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, SCENE V. K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glaffes of thine eyes I fee thy grieved heart, thy fad afpect Hath, from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away.-Six frozen winters fpent, [To Bol. * Norfolk,-fo far, &c.] I do not clearly fee what is the sense of this abrupt line, but fuppofe the meaning to be this. Hereford, immediately after his oath of perpetual, enmity addreffes Norfolk, and, fearing fome mifconftruction, turns to the king and fays-fo far as to mine enemy that is, I should say nothing to him but what enemies may Jay to each other. (7) all the world's my way.] Perhaps Milton had this in his mind when he wrote thefe lines. The world was all before them, where to chuse Their place of reft, and Providence their guide. Shall Shall be extinct with age, and endless night: fee my 1 fon. * K. Rich. Why, uncle? thou haft many years to live. Gaunt, But not a minute, King, that thou canst give; Shorten my days thou canft with fullen forrow, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow with Thou canft help time to furrow me age, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; death my Thy word is current with him, for But dead, thy Kingdom cannot buy my ; breath. K. Rich. Thy fon is banifh'd upon good advice, Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave; Why at our juftice feem'ft thou then to low'r ? Gaunt. Things, fweet to tafte, prove in digestion fow'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 fmooth his Fault, I would have been more mild : Alas, I look'd, when fome of you should fay, I was too ftrict to make mine own away: But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue, Against my will, to do myfelf this wrong. A partial flander + fought I to avoid, And in the Sentence my own life destroy'd. Six K. Rich. Coufin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him fo:: years we banish him, and he fhall go. SCENE VI. [Flourish. [Exit. Aum. Coufin, farewel; what prefence muft not know, From where do remain, let you paper show. Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride As far as land will let me, by your fide. Gaunt Oh, to what purpofe doft thou hoard thy words, That thou return'ft no Greeting to thy friends? *And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow ;] It is matter of very melancholy confideration, that all human advantages confer more power of doing evil than good. A partial flander-] That is, the reproach of partiality. This is a just picture of the struggle between principle and affecti on. Boling |