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A fcaly gauntlet now with joints of steel

Muft glove this hand. And hence, thou fickly quoif,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which Princes, fiefh'd with conqueft, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron, and approach
The rugged hour that time and fpight dare bring
To frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!
Let heav n kifs earth! now let not nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd; let order die,
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a lingring act :
But let one spirit of the firit-born Cain
Reign in all bofoms, that each heart being fet
On bloody courses, the rude fcene may end,
And darknefs be the burier of the dead!

Bard. This ftrained paffion doth you wrong, my lord!

Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
Mort. The lives of all your loving complices
Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
To ftormy paffion, muft perforce decay.
You caft th' event of war, my noble lord,

The old Edition,
The ragged'ft Hour that Time

and Spighi aare bring
To frown, &c.] There is
no Confonance of Metaphors
betwixt ragged and frown; nor,
indeed, any Dignity in the Image.
On both Accounts, therefore, I
fufpect, our Author wrote, as I
have reformed the Text. The
rugged'ft Hour, &c. THEOB.

The conclufion of this noble fpeech is extremely ftriking. There is no need to fuppofe it exactly philofophical, darknef in poetry may be abfence of eyes as well as privation of light. Yet we may remark, that by an

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And fumm'd th' account of chance, before you faid,
Let us make head. It was your prefurmise,
That, in the dole of blows, your fon might drop;
You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge
More likely to fall in, than to get o'er;
You were advis'd, his flesh was capable

Of wounds and fears; and that his forward fpirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
Yet did you fay, Go forth. And none of this,
Though ftrongly apprehended, could restrain
The ftiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
Or what hath this bold enterprize brought forth,
More than That being, which was like to be?

Bard. We all, that are engaged to this lofs,
Knew, that we ventur'd on fuch dang'rous feas,
That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one;
And yet we ventur'd for the gain propos'd,
Choak'd the refpect of likely peril fear'd;
And fince we are o'er-fet, venture again.
Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
Mort. 'Tis more than time; and my most noble
lord,

I hear for certain, and do speak the truth :
'The gentle Arch-bishop of York is up
With well-appointed Powers. He is a man,
Who with a double furety binds his followers.
My lord, your fon, had only but the corps,
But fhadows, and the fhews of men to fight;
For that fame word, Rebellion, did divide
The action of their bodies from their fouls,

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And they did fight with queafinefs, constrain'd,
As men drink potions, that their weapons only
Seem'd on our fide, but for their spirits and fouls,
This word, Rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fifh are in a pond. But now, the Bishop
Turns Infurrection to Religion;

Suppos'd fincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind,
And doth enlarge his Rifing with the blood
Of fair King Richard, fcrap'd from Pomfret ftones
Derives from heav'n his quarrel and his cause
Tells them, he doth 'beftride a bleeding land
Gafping for life, under great Bolingbroke,
And more, and lefs, do flock to follow him.
North. I knew of this before, but to speak truth,
This prefent grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me, and counsel every man
The aptest way for fafety and revenge.

Get pofts, and letters, and make friends with speed;
Never fo few, nor never yet more need.

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[Exeunt.

Enter Sir John Falstaff, with his Page bearing his fword and buckler.

Fal.

Irrah, you, giant! what fays the doctor to my water?

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Page. He faid, Sir, the water it felf was a good healthy water. But for the party that own'd it, he might have more difeafes than he knew for.

Fal. Men of all forts take a pride to gird at ine.

6 Tells them, he doth beftride a bleeding land] That is, ftands over his country to defend her as the lies bleeding on

the ground. So Falstaff before fays to the Prince, If thou fee me down, Hal, and beftride me, f; it is an office of friendship.

The

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The brain of this foolish-compounded-clay, Man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty in my felf, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a fow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the Prince put thee into my service for any other reafon than to fet me off, why, then I have no judgment. Thou whorfon mandrake 7, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with an agate till now but I will neither fet you in gold nor filver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel: The Juvenal, the Prince your master! whofe chin is not yet fledg'd; I will fooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he fhall get one on his cheek; yet he will not ftick to fay, his face is a face-royal. Heav'n may finish it when it will, it is not a hair amifs yet; he may keep it ftill as a face-royal, for a barber fhall never earn fixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever fince his father was a batchelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almoft out of mine, I can aflure him.-What faid Mr. Dembledon, about the fatten for my fhort cloak and flops?

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Page. He faid, Sir, you should procure him better affurance than Bardolph; he would not take his bond and yours, he lik'd not the fecurity.

Fal. Let him be damn'd like the Glutton, may his tongue be hotter. A whorfon Achitophel, a rafcally yeaforfooth-knave, to bear a gentleman in hand, andthen stand upon fecurity-The whorfon-smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high fhoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon fecurity. I had as lief they would put rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to ftop it with fecurity. I looked he fhould have fent me two and twenty yards of fatten, as I am a true Knight, and he fends me Security. Well, he may fleep in fecurity, for he hath the horn of abundance. And the lightnefs of his wife fhines through it, and yet cannot he fee, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. Where's Bardolph?

Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your Worfhip a horse.

Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horfe in Smithfield. If I could get me but a wife in the Stews, I were mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.

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geris. Amph. A&t 1. Scene 1. and much improved. We need not doubt that a joke was here intended by Plautus, for the proverbial term of horns, for cackoldem is very ancient, as appears by Artemidorus, who fays, Пgπεῖν αὐτῷ ὅτι ἡ γυνή σου πορνεύσει, καὶ τὸ λεγομενον, κέρατα αυτώ ποιή on, nai Curws aπißn. "Onça. lib. 2. cap. 12. And he copied from thole before him. WARBURT.

4 I bought him in Paul's,] At that time the relort of idle people, cheats, and knights of the poft.

WARBURTON,

SCENE

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