ι for our eyes do hate the dire aspect ivil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords; we think, the eagle-winged pride [1 And Of fky-ing and ambitious thoughts With rival-hating Envy fet you on, 3 To wake our Peace, which in our country's cradle which thus rouz'd up· Might fright fair Peace,] Thus the fentence ftands in the common reading, abfurdly enough: which made the Oxford Editor, instead of, fright fair Peace, read, be affrighted; as if thefe latter words could ever, poffibly, have been blundered into the former by transcribers. But his bufinefs is to alter as his fancy leads him, not to reform errors, as the text and rules of criticism, direct. In a word, then, the true original of the blunder was this: 1 he Editors, before Mr. Pope, had taken their Editions from the Folios, in which the text stood thus, the dire afpect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour fwords; Which thus rouz'd up, -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 firft 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 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 revise; and, indeed, with great judgment; for, To wake our Peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the feet infant breath of gentle fleet, 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 sconer it was awaked the better. WARBURTON. Might Might from our quiet Confines fright fair Peace, Till twice five Summers have enrich'd our fields, But tread the ftranger paths of Banishment. Boling. Your will be done. This must my comfort be, That Sun, that warms you here, fhall fhine on me : And thofe 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 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, That knows no touch to tune the harmony. Is made my Goaler to attend on me. I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, What is thy Sentence then, but fpeechless death, Mowb. 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. 6 (Our part therein we banish with your felves,) To keep the oath that we adminifter. You never fhall, fo help you truth, and heav'n! Nor ever look upon each other's face, This low'ring tempeft of your home-bred hate; To plot, contrive, or complot any Ill, 'Gainft us, our State, our Subjects, or our Land. Boling. I fwear. Mowb. And I, to keep all this. Boling. Norfolk,-fo far, as to mine enemy. By this time, had the King permitted us, One of our fouls had wandred in the air, Banish'd this frail fepulchre of our flesh, 5 Compaffionate, for plaintive. WARBURTON. (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 rendon declare for the affirmative: Hobbs and Pufferdorf hold the negative. Our author, by this line, feems to be of the fame opinion. WARB. * Norfolk,-fo far, &c] [ do not clearly fee what is the fenfe 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- fur as to mine enemy --that is, I fhould say n thing to him but what enemies may jay to each other. As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land, Mowb. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glaffes of thine eyes I fee thy grieved heart, thy fad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away.-Six frozen winters spent, [To Bol. Can change their moons and bring their times about, 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; Thy word is current with him, for my death; To smooth his Fault, I would have been more mild: K. Rich. Coufin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him fo: Six years we banish him, and he shall go. [Flourish. [Exit. Aum. Cousin, farewel; what prefence must not know, From where you do remain, let paper show. Mar. My lord, no leave take F; for I will ride As far as land will let me, by your fide. Gaunt.Oh,to what purpose doft thou hoard thy words, That thou return'ft no Greeting to thy friends? Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, When the tongue's office fhould be prodigal, To breathe th' abundant dolour of the heart. Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy abfence for a time. And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;] It is matter of very melancholy confideration, that all human advanges confer more power of do ing evil than good. A partial flander-] That is, the reproach of partiality. This is a juft picture of the ftruggle between principle and affection. C 3 Boling. |