Imatges de pÓgina
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Shal. Sir John, heaven bless you,

and

prosper your affairs, and send us peace! As you return, visit my house; let our old acquaintance be renewed: peradventure, I will with you to the court.

Fal, I would you would, master Shallow.

Shal. Go to; I have spoke, at a word. Fare you well.

Exeunt SHALLOW and Silence. Fal. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. On, Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt BARDOLPH, Recruits, &c.] As I return, I will fetch off these justices: I do see the bottom of justice Shallow. Lord, lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying! This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbullstreet;' and every third word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement's-inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring: when he was naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife: he was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible: he was the very Genius of famine; yet lecherous as a monkey, and the whores called him-mandrake: he came ever in the rear-ward of the fashion; and sung those tunes to the over-scutched & huswifes that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware-they were his fancies, or his good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger' become a squire; and talks as fa

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- about Turnbull-street;] Turnbull or Turnmill-street, is near Cow-cross, West Smithfield.

over-scutched-) That is, whipt, carted.

fancies, or his good-nights.] Fancies and Goud-nights were the titles of little poems.

| And now is this Vice's dagger-) By Vice here the poet means that droll character in the old plays equipped with asses ears and a wooden dagger. The word Vice is abbreviation of Device. VOL. V.

GG

[graphic]

Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus:-
Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
As might hold sortance with his quality,
The which he could not levy; whereupon
He is retir’d, to ripe his growing fortunes,
To Scotland: and concludes in hearty prayers,
That your attempts may overlive the hazard,
And fearful meeting of their opposite.
Mowb. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch

ground,
And dash themselves to pieces.

Enter a Messenger.
Hast.

Now, what news?
Mess. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
In goodly form comes on the enemy:
And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number
Upon, or near, the rate of thirty thousand.

Mowb. The just proportion that we gave them out. Let us sway on, and face them in the field.

Enter WESTMORELAND.

Arch. What well-appointed leader* fronts us here?
Mowb. I think, it is my lord of Westmoreland.

West. Health and fair greeting from our general, The prince, lord John and duke of Lancaster.

Arch. Say on, my lord of Westinoreland, in peace; What doth concern your coming? West.

Then, my lord, Unto your grace do I in chief address The substance of my speech. If that rebellion Came like itself, in base and abject routs, Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,

well-appointed— ] i.e. completely accoutred.

guarded with rage,] Guarded is an expression taken from dress; it means the same as faced, turned up.

And countenanc'd by boys, and beggary;
I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd,
In his true, native, and most proper shape,
You, reverend father, and these noble lords,
Had not been here, to dress the ugly form
Of base and bloody insurrection
With your

fair honours. You, lord archbishop,-
Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd;
Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd;
Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor’d;
Whose white investments figure innocence,
The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, -
Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself,
Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,
Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war?
Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
Your pens to lances; and your tongue divine
To a loud trumpet, and a point of war?
Arch. Wherefore do I this?—so the question

stands.
Briefly to this end :—We are all diseas'd;
And, with our surfeiting, and wanton hours,
Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
And we must bleed for it: of which disease
Our late king, Richard, being infected, died.
But, my most noble lord of Westmoreland,
I take not on me here as a physician;
Nor do I, as an enemy to peace,
Troop in the throngs of military men:
But, rather, show a while like fearful war,
To diet rank minds, sick of happiness;

the obstructions, which begin to stop Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.

And purge

graves,] For graves Dr. Warburton very plausibly reads glaives, and is followed by Sir Thomas Hanmer. But we might perhaps as plausibly read greaves, i. e. armour for the legs, a kind of boots.

I have in equal balance justly weigh'd
What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we

suffer,
And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
We see which way the stream of time doth run,
And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere
By the rough torrent of occasion:
And have the summary of all our griefs,
When time shall serve, to show in articles;
Which, long ere this, we offer'd to the king,
And might by no suit gain our audience:
When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs,
We are denied access unto his person
Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
The dangers of the days but newly gone,
(Whose memory is written on the earth
With yet-appearing blood,) and the examples
Of every minute's instance, (present now,)
Have put us in these ill-beseeming arms:
Not to break peace, or any branch of it;
But to establish here a peace indeed,
Concurring both in name and quality.

West. When ever yet was your appeal denied? Wherein have you been galled by the king? What

peer

hath been suborn’d to grate on you?
That you should seal this lawless bloody book
Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine,
And consecrate commotion's bitter edge ??

Arch. My brother general, the commonwealth,
To brother born an household cruelty,
I make my quarrel in particular.

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our griefs -] i. e. our grievances.

commotion's bitter edge?] i. e. the edge of bitter strife and commotion; the sword of rebellion.

My brother general, &c.

I make my quarrel in particular.] The sense is this" My brother general, the commonwealth, which ought to distribute its

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