And make us wade even in our kindred's blood;-
Therefore, we banish you our territories:-
You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,

But tread the stranger paths of banishment.

Boling. Your will be done: This must my comfort be,

That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me;
And those his golden beams, to you here lent,

Shall point on me and gild my banishment.

K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:

was this: the editors, before Mr. Pope, had taken their editions from the folios, in which the text stood thus:

the dire aspect

Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords;
Which so rouz'd up

-fright fair peace.

This is sense. But Mr. Pope, who carefully examined the first printed plays in quarto, (very much to the advantage of his edition) coming to this place, found five lines, in the first edition of this play printed in 1598, omitted in the first general collection of the poet's works; and, not enough attending to their agreement with the common text, put them into their place. Whereas, in truth, the five lines were omitted by Shakspeare himself, as not agreeing to the rest of the context; which, on revise, he thought fit to alter. On this account I have put them into hooks, not as spurious, but as rejected on the author's revise; and, indeed, with great judgment; for—

To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep,

as pretty as it is in the image, is absurd in the sense for peace awake is still peace, as well as when asleep. The difference is, that peace asleep gives one the notion of a happy people sunk in sloth and luxury, which is not the idea the speaker would raise, and from which state the sooner it was awaked the better.

Warburton.

To this note, written with such an appearance of taste and judgment, I am afraid every reader will not subscribe. It is true, that peace awake is still peace, as well as when asleep; but peace awakened by the tumults of these jarring nobles, and peace indulging in profound tranquillity, convey images suffici.ently opposed to each other for the poet's purpose. To wake peace, is, to introduce discord. Peace asleep, is peace exerting its natural influence, from which it would be frighted by the cla mours of war. Steevens.

The fly-slow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exíle;—
The hopeless word of-never to return
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
And all unlook'd-for from your highness' mouth:
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim

As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your highness' hand.
The language I have learn'd these forty years,
My native English, now I must forego:
And now my tongue's use is to me no more,
Than an unstringed viol, or a harp;
Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,
Or, being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

The fly-slow hours ] The old copies read-The sly-slow hours. Mr. Pope made the change; whether it was necessary or not, let the poetical reader determine.

In Chapman's version of the second Book of Homer's Odyssey, we have:

66

and those slie hours

"That still surprise at length."

It is remarkable, that Pope, in the 4th Book of his Essay on Man, v. 226, has employed the epithet which, in the present instance, he has rejected:

"All sly slow things, with circumspective eyes." See Warton's edit. of Pope's Works, Vol. III, p. 145.

Steevens. The latter word appears to me more intelligible:-" the thievish minutes as they pass." Malone.

8 A dearer merit, not so deep a maim

Have I deserved -] To deserve a merit is a phrase of which I know not any example. I wish some copy would exhibit :

A dearer meed, and not so deep a maim.

To deserve a meed or reward, is regular and easy. Johnson.

As Shakspeare uses merit in this place, in the sense of reward, he frequently uses the word meed, which properly signifies reward, to express merit. So, in Timon of Athens, Lucullus says: "no meed but he repays

"Seven fold above itself."

And in The Third Part of K. Henry VI, Prince Edward says: "We are the sons of brave Plantagenet,

"Each one already blazing by our meeds."

And again, in the same play, King Henry says:

"That's not my fear, my meed hath got me fame."

M. Mason

Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips;
And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a pupil now;

What is thy sentence then, but speechless death,
Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate;'
After our sentence plaining comes too late.

Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's light, To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. [Retiring. K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;

Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,
(Our part therein we banish with yourselves,)1
To keep the oath that we administer:-

You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!)
Embrace each other's love in banishment;

Nor never look upon each other's face;
Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate;
Nor never by advised2 purpose meet,
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,
'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
Boling. I swear.

9

Nor. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;-3

compassionate;] for plaintive. Warburton.

(Our part &c.] It is a question much debated amongst the writers of the law of nations, whether a banished man may be still tied in his allegiance to the state which sent him into exile. Tully and Lord Chancellor Clarendon declare for the affirmative. Hobbes and Puffendorf hold the negative. Our author, by this line, seems to be of the same opinion. Warburton.

2

advised - i. e. concerted, deliberated. So, in The Merchant of Venice:

3

with more advised watch." Steevens.

Norfolk, so far &c.] I do not clearly see what is the sense of this abrupt line; but suppose the meaning to be this: Hereford immediately after his oath of perpetual enmity, addresses Norfolk, and, fearing some misconstruction, turns to the King

By this time, had the king permitted us,
One of our souls had wander'd in the air,
Banish'd this frail sepúlchre of our flesh,*
As now our flesh is banish'd from this land:
Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence!
But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know;
And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.—
Farewel, my liege:-Now no way can I stray;
Save back to England, all the world's my way." [Exit.

and says-so far as to mine enemy- -that is, I should say nothing to him but what enemies may say to each other.

Reviewing this passage, I rather think it should be understood thus. Norfolk, so far I have addressed myself to thee as to mine enemy, I now utter my last words with kindness and tenderness, Confess thy treasons. Johnson.

so fare, as to mine enemy;] i. e. he only wishes him to fare like his enemy, and he disdains to say fare well as Aumerle does in the next scene. Tollet.

The first folio reads fare; the second farre. Bolingbroke only uses the phrase by way of caution, lest Mowbray should think he was about to address him as a friend. Norfolk, says he, so far as a man may speak to his enemy, &c. Ritson.

Surely fare was a misprint for farre, the old spelling of the word now placed in the text.-Perhaps the author intended that Hereford in speaking this line should show some courtesy to Mowbray; -and the meaning may be: So much civility as an enemy has a right to, I am willing to offer to thee. Malone.

Sir T. Hanmer's marginal direction is—In salutation. Steevens. this frail sepúlchre of our flesh,] So, afterwards:

66 thou King Richard's tomb,

"And not King Richard

And Milton, in Samson Agonistes:

5

"Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.” Henley.

all the world's my way.] Perhaps Milton had this in his mind when he wrote these lines:

"The world was all before them, where to choose
"Their place of rest, and Providence their guide."

Johnson.

The Duke of Norfolk after his banishment went to Venice, where, says Holinshed, "for thought and melancholy he deceased." Malone.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd years

Pluck'd four away;-Six frozen winters spent,

Return [to Boling.] with welcome home from banishment,
Boling. How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs,
End in a word; Such is the breath of kings.
Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me,
He shortens four years of my son's exile:
But little vantage shall I reap thereby;

For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend,

Can change their moons, and bring their times about,
My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light,
Shall be extinct with age, and endless night;
My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
And blindfold death not let me see my son.

K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live.
Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst give:
Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow:
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;

Thy word is current with him for my death;
But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,"
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave;'
Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lower?
Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion sour.

Now no way can I stray,

Save back to England:-all the world's my way.

There's no way for me to go wrong, except back to England.

M. Mason.

6 And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow:] It is matter of very melancholy consideration, that all human advantages confer more power of doing evil than good. Johnson.

7

upon good advice,] Upon great consideration. Malone. So, in King Henry VI, Part II:

8

"But with advice and silent secresy." Steevens.

a party-verdict gave;] i. e. you had yourself a part or

share in the verdict that I pronounced. Malone.