Lord Say's Apology for himself. Juftice, with favour, have I always done; Prayers and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never: (10) When have I aught exacted at your hands? Kent, to maintain, the king, the realm and you, Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks Because my book preferr'd me to the king: And seeing, ignorance is the curfe of God, Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to Heav'n, Unless you be poffefs'd with dev'lish spirits, You cannot but forbear to murther me. (10) When, &c.] The interrogation in all the editions is plac'd at the end of this line: the paffage, in my opinion, should be pointed thus: When have I aught exacted at your hands, Kent to maintain, the king, the realm, and you? This renders the paffage plain and eafy that he should have be ftowed gifts on learned clerks to maintain Kent, the king, &c. is fomething very unreasonable; that he should have bestowed gifts on them because his book preferr'd him to the king, is not only reafonable, but extremely probable, The Within whofe circuit is Elifium, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. SCENE (1) Do but, &c] In the fecond part of Henry IV. (p. 21.) we have fome fine reflections on the miferies that attend a crown: thefe, on the tranfports it beftows, are beautifully in character, aud come very aptly from the mouth of the ambitious Gloucefler. In the double marriage of Beaumont and Fletcher, Ferrand the tyrant, complaining of the miferies that attend royalty, a courtier longing to enjoy the honour, is put into poffefiion of them for See the third one day, and finds them fufficiently burthenfom. act. Some of the tyrants complaints, and the courtiers praifes of royalty, are the following: Ferr. Tell me no more, I faint beneath the burden of my cares, And yield myfelf moft wretched. Vill. Look but on this, Has not a man that has but means to keep Caftr. A dull fool ftill: Make me a king, and let me fcratch with care, Thou SCENE V. A hungry Lion. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws; And fo he walks infulting o'er his prey, And fo he comes to rend his limbs afunder. SCENE VI. The Duke of York on the gallant Behaviour of his Sons. My fons, God knows, what hath bechanced them : But this I know, they have demean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me, And thrice cry'd, courage father! fight it out: And full as oft came Edward to my fide, With purple falchion painted to the hilt In blood of thofe, that had encounter'd him: And when the hardieft warriors did retire; Richard cry'd, charge! and give no foot of ground; Thou enemy to majefty, What think'ft thou of a king? Vill. As of a man, That hath power to do all ill. Caftr. Or a thing rather That does divide an empire with the Gods; For me, I do profess it Were I offer'd to be any thing on earth, Ferr, Did'st thou but feel The weighty forrows that fit on a crown, Tho' thou fhould't find one in the streets, Caftruccio, Thou would't not think it worth the taking up : Thou shalt ere long tafte it Caftr. But one Day, And then let me expire. And And cry'd a crown, or else a glorious tomb, With this we charg'd again; but out! alas, a With bootless labour fwim against the tide And spend her ftrength with over-matching waves. A Father's Paffion on the Murder of a favourite Child. Oh tyger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! And yet be seen to wear a woman's face ? That face of his the hungry cannibals (2) Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, Keep thou the napkin, and go boaft of this: (2) Would not, &c.] The firft folios and the old quarto read this paffage as it is here printed; the fecond folio reads, Wou'd not have touch'd, Wou'd not have stained the roses juft with blood. Which Mr. Theobald for the fake of an alteration of his own prefers to this, for which we have fo good authority. He reads, Wou'd not have ftain'd the roses juic'd with blood; Sir T. Hanmer, not pleas'd with this criticifm, tries another caft, and gives us The roses just in bud. And And if thou tell'ft the heavy story right, The Duke of York in Battle. Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop, The MORNING. See how the morning opes her golden gates, *As, &c.] The poets abound with numberlefs fimilies of this kind; particularly Homer and Virgil: but none perhaps is finer than the following from that book, where every page abounds with beauties, and true fublimity. Isaiah xxxi. 4. "Like as the lion, and the young lion roaring on his prey; when a multitude of thepherds is called forth against him, he will not be afraid of their voice, nor abafe himself for the noise of them." (3) How, &c.] There is fomething very peculiar in this paffage, "The prime of youth and like a yonker, feeming nearly the fame thing; but it is extremely beautiful, the author perfonifies the prime of youth, and defcribes him as an allegorical perfon, trimm'd like a yonker, which with us fignifies a brifk, lively young man; but more properly perhaps from its original, a nobleman, or young lord. See Skinner. The plain manner of understanding it is difficult, and the conftruction very involved; however, it seems no more than this, "how well refembles it, a yonker trimm'd out, in the prime of youth, prancing to his love." VOL. 11, Ꭰ The |