Norih, gelded of a to pity Line

Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.
North. Richỉy in both, if justice had her right.
Rofs. My heart is great, but it must break with

silence, Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er

speak more, That speaks thy words again to do thee harm ! Willo. Tends, what thou’dst speak, to the duke of

Hereford ?
If it be so, out with it boldly, man:
Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.

Ross. No good at all that I can do for him ;
Unless you call it good to pity him,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such wrongs

are borne In him a royal prince, and many more Of noble blood in this declining land. The king is not himself, but basely led By flatterers; and what they will inform, Merely in haté, 'gainst any of us all, That will the king severely profecute "Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. Rofs. The commons hath he pill'd with grievous

taxes, And lost their hearts : the nobles he hath fin'd For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.

Willo. And daily new exactions are devis’d;
As, blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what:
But what, o' God's name, doth become of this?
North. War hath not wasted it, for warr'd he hath

not,
But basely yielded upon compromise
That which his ancestors atchiev'd with blows;
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars.

Rols. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.

North.

Wat leek to we hearekininananith dinding,

North. Reproach and diffolution hangeth over him.

Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,
But by the robbing of the banish'd duke.

North. His noble kinsman. Most degenerate king!
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempelt ling,
Yet seek ro shelter to avoid the storm:
We see the wind sit fore upon our fails,
6 And yet we strike not, but securely perish.

Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffer ; And unavoided is the danger now, For suffering so the causes of our wreck. North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of

death
I spy life peering: but I dare not say,
How near the tidings of our comfort is.
Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou doft

ours.
Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland :
We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore be bold.

North. Then.thus : I have from Port le Blanc, a bay
In Britainy, receiv'd intelligence,
That Harry Hereford, Reginald lord Cobham,
That late broke from the duke of Exeter ?,
His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramíton,
Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis

Cuoint,
All these well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne,
With eight tail ships, three thouland men of war,

And yet we frike not, &c.] Toftrike the sails, is, to contract them when there is too much wind. JOHNSON.

i duke of Exeter,] I suspect that some of these lines are transposed, as well as that the poet has made a biurder in his enumeration of persons. No copy that I have fen, will authorize me to make an alteration, though, according to Ilolinfhead, whom Shakespeare followed in great measure, more than one is necessary. STEEVENS.

K 3

Are

Are making hither with all due expedience,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore :
Perhaps, they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our Navish yoke,
Imp out & our drooping country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt,
And make high majesty look like itself,
Away with me in post to Ravenspurg :
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay, and be secret, and myself will go.
Ross. To horse, to horse"! urge doubts to them that

fear. Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there,

[Exeunt, SCENE II.

The court.
Enter queen, Bushy, and Bagot,
Bushy. Madam, your majesty is much too sad :
You promis’d, when you parted with the king,
To lay aside life-harming heaviness, .
And entertain a chearful disposition.

Queen. To please the king, I did; to please myself,
I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest .
As my sweet Richard : yet again, methinks,

• Imp out“ ) As this expression frequently occurs in our author, it may not be amiss to explain the original meaning of it. When the wing-feathers of a hawk were dropped, or forced out by any accident, it was usual to supply as many as were deficient. This operation was called, to imp a hawk. So in The Devil's Charter, 1607.. of His plumes only imp the muse's wings.”

STEEVENS.

Some

Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming toward me; and my inward soul
9 With nothing trembles, at something it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king..
Bulky. Each substance of a grief hath twenty sha-

dows,
Which shew like grief itself, but are not so:
For forrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
* Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confusion ; ey'd awry,
Distinguish form:- fo your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; ..
Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
Of what it is not; then, thrice gracious queen, .
More than your lord's departure weep not; more's not

seen :

ARBURTON.

. With nothing trembles, yet at something grieves,] The following line requires that this should be read just the contrary way,

With something trembles, yet at nothing grieves.
All the old editions read,

my inward foul
With nothing trembles; at something it grieves.
The reading, which Dr. Warburton corrects, is itself an in-
novation. His conjectures give indeed a better sense than that
of any copy, but copies muit not be needlesly forsaken.

JOHNSON.
Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Sbew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry,

Distinguish form :- ) This is a fine fimilitude, and the thing meant is this ; amongst mathematical recreations, there is one in optics, in which a figure is drawn, wherein all the rules of perspective are inverted: fo that, if held in the fame position with those pictures which are drawn according to the rules of perspective, it can present nothing but confufion : and to be seen in form, and under a regular appearance, it must be looked upon from a contrary Itation; or, as Shakespeare says, ey'd awry.

Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary,

Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul
Periuades me it is otherwise. Howe'er it be,
I cannot but be sad; so heavy-fad,
? As, though, in thinking, on no thought I think,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.

Buhy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady,

Q:teen, 'Tis nothing less : conceit is still deriy'd
From fome fore-father grief ; mine is not so ;
3 For nothing hath begot my something grief;
Or something hath, the nothing that I grieve :
H'Tis in reversion that I do poffess;

But

2 As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think,] We should read, as though in thinking; that is, though mufing I have no diftinct idea of calamity. The involuntary and unaccountable depreilion of the mind, which every one has sometime felt, is here very forcibly described. Johnson.

3 For nothing haih begot my something grief ;

Or something hath, the nothing that I grieve :). With these lines I know not well what can be done. The queen’s reasoning, as it now stands, is this: my trouble is not conceit, for conceit is

liill derived from some antecedent cause, some fore-father grief; 'but with me the case is, that either my real grief hath no real cause, or some real cause has produced a fancied grief. That is, mv grief is not conceit, becaujë it either has not a cauje tike conceit, or it has a cause like conceit. This can hardly fand. Let us try again, and read thus :

For nothing hath begot my fomething grief;

Not something hath the nothing which I grieve : That is ; my grief is not conceit; conceit is an imaginary uneasiness from some paft occurrerce. But, on the contrary, here is real grief without a real caife ; not a real cause with a fanciful Jorrow. This, I think, must be the meanings harsh at the beit, yet belter than contradiction or absurdity. JOHNSON.

A'Tis in reversion that I do polos;

But what it is, that is not yet known, &c.] I am about to propose an interpretation which many will think harih, and which I do not otrer for certain. To policis a man, is, in Shakespeare, to inform him fully, to make bim comprchend. To live Podified, is, to be fully informed. Of this sense the examples are pumerous :