Puslapio vaizdai

(Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin)

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I fhall befeech you -that is question now ;
And then comes anfwer like an A B C-book :
O Sir, fays anfwer, at your beft command,
At your imployment, at your service, Sir ;-
No, Sir, fays queftion, I, fweet Sir, at yours,
And fo e'er answer knows what question would,
Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean and the river Po;

It draws towards fupper in conclusion, so.
But this is worshipful fociety,

And fits the mounting spirit like myself :
For he is but a bastard to the time,

That doth not fmack of observation.

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A Defcription of England.

(2) That pale that white-fac'd fhore, Whofe foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,


true) ftrikes me on reading the paffage. "Richard fays, the traveller and his tooth-pick fhall be both at his table, and for my own part, he goes on, when 1 have fuffic'd my knightly ftomach, then I fhall fit at my eafe picking my teeth, and catechifing my picked man of countries, i. e. my traveller who has already picked his teeth, and does not take the liberty which I do, to loll on his elbow, and pick his teeth, being fubfervient to my commands, and waiting for my catechifing him." In this fenfe picked is right in the old copies.

(2) That, &c.] Shakespear, like a true lover of his country, has never omitted any opportunity to celebrate it or his countrymen, the reader will find befides the paffages in the prefent play, one in Richard II. A. 2. S. 1. and Cymbeline, A. 3. S1. Spenfer too forgot not to pay due honours to his country in his Fairie Queene, but has given us one whole Canto, which he entitles,

A Chro

And coops from other lands her islanders;

Ev'n till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, ftill fecure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Ev'n till that utmoft corner of the weft,
Salute thee for her king.

Defcription of an English Army.

His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces ftrong, his foldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen ;
An Ate stirring him to blood and strife.

With her, her neice, the lady Blanch of Spain;
(3) With them a bastard of the king deceas'd;
And all th' unfettled humours of the land,
Rash, inconfiderate, fiery voluntaries,

A chronicle of Briton kings
From Brute to Uthers raigne :
And rolls of Elfin emperors

Till time of Gloriane.

B. 2. C. 10:

Neither has Milton omitted to mention his country; in his admirable mask of Comus, he calls it

An ifle

The greatest and the best of all the main ; And his countrymen, An old and haughty nation proud in arms.

(3) With them, &c.] There is a flight error in the pointing here, which I the rather take notice of, as it runs thro' all the editions, and feems to have given the editors a wrong fenfe of the paffage; 'tis faid, the king is come with the mother qucen,

With her, her niece the lady Blanch of Spain,
With them a baftard of the king deceas'd,
And all the unfettled humours of the land':
Rafh inconfiderate, &c.

I think there is no doubt, the femicolon fhould be after the baftard of the king deceas'd; then he adds, and all the unfettled humours of the land, rafh, &c. have fold, &c." Scathe in the laft line but two, fignifies damage, hurt, mifchief, derived from a Saxon word: Skinner fays, it is yet ufed in Lincolnshire, which it might have been in his time, and probably may be now, tho' I don't recollect ever to have heard it.

E 2


With lady's faces, and fierce dragon's fpleens,
Have fold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the fwelling tide,
To do offence and fcathe in Chriftendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumftance; they are at hand.


By how much unexpected, by fo much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occafion.

SCENE II. A Boafter.

What cracker is this fame, that deafs our ears With this abundance of fuperfluous breath?

SCENE IV. Defcription of Victory, by the French.

You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, And let young Arthur duke of Bretagne in: Who by the hand of France this day hath made, Much work for tears in many an English mother, Whofe fons lye fcatter'd on the bleeding ground: And many a widow's husband groveling lies, Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth; While victory with little lofs doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French ; Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, To enter conquerors.


By the English.

Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells,
King John, your king, and England's, doth approach,
Commander of this hot, malicious day:

Their armours that march'd hence, fo filver-bright,
Hither return all gilt in Frenchmens blood;
There ftuck no plume in any English creft,
That is removed by a staff of France.
Our colours do return in those fame hands
That did display them, when we first marh'd forth;
And like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come
Our lufty English, all with purple hands,
Dy'd in the dying flaughter of their foes.

SCENE V. A compleat Lady.

If lufty love fhould go in queft of beauty,
Where fhou'd he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous love fhould go in search of Virtue,
Where fhou'd he find it fairer, than in Blanch?
If love, ambitious fought a match of birth
Whose veins bound richer blood, than lady Blanch?

SCENE VI. On Commodity, or Self-Intereft.
Rounded in the ear

With that fame purpofe-changer, that fly devil,
That broker, that ftill breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,

Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lose

But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that;
That smooth fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the biafs of the world,

The world, which of itself is poised well,
Made to run even, upon even ground;
Till this advantage, this vile drawing biass,

E 3


This fway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpofe, course, intent.
And this fame bias, &c.

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* What doft thou mean by fhaking of thy head? Why doft thou look fo fadly on my fon?

What means that hand upon that breast of thine ?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er its bounds?
Be these fad fighs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again, not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

A Mother's Fondness for a beautiful Child. (4) If thou, that bid'ft me be content, wert grim Ugly, and fland'rous to thy mother's womb,

* What. &c.] So Seneca in his Oedipus lays,

Effari dubitas ? cur genas mutat color ?
Quid verba quæris ?

And in his Agamemnon,

Quid tacita verfas,

Licet ipfa fleas, totus in vultu dolor eft.
Why doft thou fear to fpeak? Why on thy cheeks
Does thus thy colour come and go? And wherefore
Art thou thus at a lofs to fpeak thy purpose ?


What fecret forrows roll within thy breast,

Thus filent?-All thy looks befpeak affliction.


(4) If thon, &c.] So in the Unnatural combat of Massinger, the

father, who was ftruggling with the violent and fhocking paffion He had conceiv'd for his daughter, obferves,

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