Busby. M Adam, your Majefty is much too fad : To lay aside self-harming heaviness, And entertain a chearful difpofition. Queen. To please the King, I did; to please myself, Which fhew like grief it felf, but are not so: Shew The reading, which Dr. Warburton corrects, is itself an innovation. His conjecture gives indeed a better fenfe than that of any copy, but copies must not be needlefly forfaken. 3 Like Perfpectives, which Diftinguish form.] This is a fine fimilitule, and the thing meant Shew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry, Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. *As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think, meant is this. Amongst mathemat cal recreations, there is one in Optis, in which a figure is drawn, wherein all the rules of Peripe are inverted : so that, if held in the fame pofition with thole pictures which are drawn according to the rules of PerSpective, it can prefent nothing but confufion and to be feen in form, and under a regular Appearance, it must be look'd upon from a contrary station: or, as Shakespear fays, ey'd awry. WARBURTON. 4 As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think.] We fhould read, as though in think g: That is, though mifing I bave no d ftit idea of calami'y. The involuntary and unaccountable depreffion of the mind, which every one has fometime Or felt, is here very forcibly defcribd. 5 For nothing hath begot my fomething grief; Or fomething hath, the nothing that I grieve. With thefe lines I know not well what can be done. The Queen's reafoning, as it now ftands, is this. My trouble is not conceit, for conceit is fill de ived from fome antecedent caufe, fome forefather grief; but with me the cafe is, that either my real grief hath no real caufe, or fome real canfe has produced a fancy'd grief. That is, my grief is not con eit, because it either has not a cafe like conceit, or it has a caufe like con eit. This can hardly ftand. Let us try again, and read thus: For nothing bath begot my fometh.ng griefs Not Or fomething hath, the nothing that I grieve; But what it is, that is not yet known, what Green. Heav'n fave your Majefty! and well met, gentlemen: I hope, the King is not yet shipt for Ireland. Queen. Why hop'ft thou fo? 'tis better hope, he is: And driv'n into despair an enemy's Hope, Not fomething hath the nothing which I grieve. on the contrary, here is real which I do not offer for certain. Ꭰ . numerous. I have poffeft him my moft ftay 'Tis in reverfion-that I do The event is yet in futurity-that 7 Might have retired his power.] And And with uplifted arms is fafe arriv'd At Ravenfpurg. Queen. Now God in heav'n forbid ! Green. O, Madam, 'tis too true; and what is worse, The lord Northumberland, his young fon Percy, The lords of Rofs, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their pow'rful friends, are fled to him. Busby. Why have you not proclaim'dNorthumberland, And all of that revolted faction, traitors? Green. We have; whereon the Earl of Worcester Hath broke his ftaff, refign'd his Stewardship; And all the houshold fervants fled with him To Bolingbroke. Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe, And Bolingbroke my forrow's dismal heir. * Now hath my foul brought forth her prodigy, Queen. Who fhall hinder me? I will defpair, and be at enmity Green. Here comes the Duke of York. Queen. With figns of war about his aged neck; Uncle, for heav'n's fake, comfortable words. My frrow's difnal heir.] The authour feems to have ufed beir in an improper fenfe, an heir being one that inherits by fucceffion, fhould bely my thoughts; is here put for one that fucceeds, though he fucceeds but in order of time, not in order of defcent. Comfort's Comfort's in heav'n, and we are on the earth, Whilft others come to make him lofe at home. Who, weak with age, cannot fupport my self. Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord, your fon was gone before I came. York. He was why, fo-go all, which way it will The Nobles they are fled, the Commons cold, And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide. Get thee to Plafbie, to my filter Gio'fter; Bid her fend presently a thousand pound: Hold, take my ring. 8 Serv. My lord, I had forgot To tell, to day I came by, and call'd there; York. What is't? Serv. An hour before I came, the Dutchefs dy'd. York. Heav'n for his mercy, what a tide of woes Come rushing on this woful land at once! I know not what to do. I would to heav'n, And bring away the armour that is there. -] nicle, p. 13. & Ce: thee to Plafhie,The Lordship of Plabie was a Town of the D .tchefs of Gloneer's in Efex. See Hal.'s Chrc alty, treachery. THEOBALD. That is, Difloy If |