Nor fet no footing on this unkind fhore.

What did I then? but curft the gentle gufts,
And he that loos'd them from their brazen caves,
And bid them blow towards England's bleffed fhore,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock.

Yet Eolus would not be a murderer;

But left that hateful office unto thee.

The pretty vaulting fea refus'd to drown me,
Knowing, that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore
With tears as falt as fea, through thy unkindness.
The fplitting rocks cow'r'd in the finking fands,
And would not dafh me with their ragged fides;
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy Palace perish Margaret.

As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs,
When from thy fhore the tempeft beat us back,
I ftood upon the hatches in the storm;
And when the dusky fky began to rob
My earnest-gaping fight of thy Land's view,
I took a coftly jewel from my neck,

A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,
And threw it tow'rds thy Land; the fea receiv'd it,
And fo, I wish'd, thy body might my heart.
And ev❜n with this I loft fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,
And call'd them blind and dufky fpectacles,

For loofing ken of Albion's wifhed Coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue,
The agent of thy foul inconftancy,

To fit and witch me, as Afcanias did,

When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy?
Am I not witcht like her ? or thou not falfe like him?
Ah me, I can no more: die, Margaret !

For Henry weeps, that thou doft live fo long.

Noife within. Enter Warwick, Salisbury, and many
Commons.

War. It is reported, mighty Sovereign,
That good Duke Humphry traiterously is murder'd
By Suffolk, and the Cardinal Beauford's means.
The Commons, like an angry hive of bees
That want their leader, fcatter up and down;
And care not whom they fting in their revenge.
Myfelf have calm'd their fpleenful mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.

K. Henry. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true;
But how he died, God knows, *not Henry.
Enter his chamber, view his breathless corps,
And comment then upon his fudden death.

• To fit and watch me, as Afca- ́tory. Again, how did the fup

nius did, When be to madding Dido

would unfold

His Father's Acts, commenc'd in burning Troy ;] The Poet here is unquestionably alluding to Virgil. (Eneid. I.) but he ftrangely blends Fact with Fiction.

In the firft Place, it was Cupid, in the Semblance of Af canius, who fat in Dido's Lap, And was fondled by her. But then it was not Cupid, who related to her the Process of Troy's deftruction, but it was Eneas himself who related this Hif

pofed Afcanius fit and watch
her? Cupid was ordered, while
Dido mistakenly careffed him,
to bewitch and infect her with
Love. To this Circumstance
the Poet certainly alludes; and
unless he had wrote, as I have
reftored to the Text;

To fit and witch me,—
Why fhould the Queen immedi-
ately draw this Inference,
Am I not witch'd like her?

THEOBALD. *Not Henry.] The poet commonly uses Henry as a word of three fyllables.

War.

War. That I fhall do, my Liege.-Stay, Salisbury, With the rude multitude, till I return.

[Warwick goes in.

K. Henry. O thou, that judgeft all things, ftay my

thoughts,

My thoughts, that labour to perfuade my foul,
Some violent hands were laid on Humphry's life.
If my fufpect be falfe, forgive me, God!
For judgment only doth belong to thee.
Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
With twenty thousand kiffes, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of falt tears;
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling.
But all in vain are these mean obfequies.

[Bed with Glo'fter's body put forth. And to farvey his dead and earthly image,

What were it, but to make my forrow greater? War. Come hither, gracious Sovereign, view this body.

K. Henry. That is to fee how deep my grave is made, For, with his foul fled all my worldly folace; For feeing him, I fee my life in death.

War. As furely as my foul intends to live
With that dread King, that took our ftate upon him,
To free us from his father's wrathful curfe,

I do believe, that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed Duke.

Suf. A dreadful oath, fworn with a folemn tongue! What inftance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?

7 For feeing bim, 1 fee my life in death.] Though, by a violent operation, fome fenfe may be extracted from this reading, yet I think it will be better to change it thus ;

For feeing him, I fee my death in life.

That is, feeing him I live too fee
my own destruction. Thus it
will aptly correspond with the
firft line.

Come hither, gracious Sove-
reign, view this body.
K. Henry. That is to fee how
deep my grave is made.

War.

War. See, how the blood is fettled in his face. 3 Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,

Of ashy femblance, meager, pale, and bloodlefs;
Being all defcended to the lab'ring heart,
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the fame for aidance 'gainst the enemy;
Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth
To blush and beautify the cheek again.

But feek, his face is black and full of blood;
His eye-balls further out, than when he liv'd;
Staring full-ghaftly, like a ftrangled man;
His hair up-rear'd, his noftrils ftretch'd with struggling:
His hands abroad difplay'd, as one that graspt
And tugg'd for life, and was by ftrength fubdu'd.
Look on the sheets; his hair, you fee, is fticking;
His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the fummer's corn by tempeft log'd.

It cannot be, but he was murder'd here ;
The least of all these figns were probable.

Suf. Why, Warwick, who fhould do the Duke to death?

Myfelf and Beauford had him in protection;
And we, I hope, Sirs, are no murderers.

War. But both of you have vow'd Duke Humphry's death,

"And, you, forfooth, had the good Duke to keep.

3 Oft have I feen a timely parted ghost,

Of afby femblance, meager, pale, and bloodlefs.] All that is true of the body of a dead man is here faid by Warwick of the foul. I would read,

parted could not be used of the body, but that, as in Hamlet there is mention of peace-parted fouls, so here timely-parted must have the fame fubftantive. He removed one imaginary difficulty and made many real. If the foul is

Oft have I feen a timely parted parted from the body, the body is

coarse,

But of too common words how or why was one changed for the other? I believe the tranfcriber thought that the epithet, timely

likewife parted from the foul.

I cannot but stop a moment to obferve that this horrible defcription is fcarcely the work of any pen but Shakespeare's.

'Tis like, you would not feast him like a friend; And 'tis well feen, he found an enemy.

2. Mar. Then you, belike, fupect thefe noblemen, As guilty of Duke Humphry's timeless death.

War. Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh, And fees faft by a Butcher with an ax,

But will fufpect, 'twas he that made the flaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's neft,
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite foar with unbloodied beak?
Ev'n fo fufpicious is this tragedy.

2. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk ? where's your knife?

Is Beauford term'd a kite? where are his talons?
Suf. I wear no knife to flaughter sleeping men;
But here's a vengeful fword, rufted with ease,
That fhall be fcoured in his ranc'rous heart
That flanders me with murder's crimson badge.
Say, if thou dar'ft, proud Lord of Warwickshire,
That I am faulty in Duke Humphry's death.

War. What dares not Warwick, if falfe Suffolk dare him?

Q Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit, Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,

Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

War. Madam, be ftill. With rev'rence may I fay; For ev'ry word, you speak in his behalf,

Is flander to your royal Dignity.

Suf. Blunt-witted Lord, ignoble in demeanour,

If ever lady wrong'd her Lord fo much,

Thy mother took into her blameful bed
Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock

Was graft with crab-tree flipt, whose fruit thou art;
And never of the Nevill's noble Race.

War. But that the gilt of murder buckler's thee, And I fhould rob the death's man of his fee, Quitting thee thereby of ten thoufand fhames, And that my fovereign's prefence makes me mild, VOL. V.

F

I would,