K. Rich. Farewel, my lord; fecurely I efpy
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
Order the tryal, Marshal, and begin.

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancafter and Derby,
Receive thy Lance; and heav'n defend thy Right!
Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry Amen.
Mar. Go bear this Lance to Thomas Duke of Norfolk.
1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Stands here for God, his Sovereign and Himself,
On pain to be found falfe and recreant,

To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his King, and him;
And dares him to fet forward to the fight.

2 Her. Here ftandeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

On pain to be found falfe and recreant,
Both to defend himself, and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
To God, his Sovereign, and to him, disloyal:
Courageously, and with a free defire,

Attending but the Signal to begin.

Mar. Sound, Trumpets; and fet forward, Comba

tants.

[4 Charge founded. -But ftay, the King hath thrown his warder down. K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their fpears,

And Both return back to their chairs again :
Withdraw with us, and let the trumpets found,
While we return thefe Dukes what we decree.

Draw near;

A long Flourish; after which, the King
Speaks to the Combatants.

And lift, what with our Council we have done.
For that our Kingdom's earth fhould not be foil'd
With that dear blood, which it hath foftered;
And, for our eyes do hate the dire afpect

Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour fwords; [7 And for we think, the eagle-winged pride

7 And for we think, the eagle-winged pride, &c.] Thefe five verfes are omitted in the other editions, and reftored from the first of 1598.

Mr. Pope.

Of

Of fky-afpiring and ambitious thoughts
With rival-hating Envy fet you on,

8 To wake our Peace, which in our country's cradle
Draws the fweet infant breath of gentle fleep ;]
Which thus rouz'd up with boist'rous untun'd drums,
And harsh-refounding trumpets' dreadful Bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet Confines fright fair Peace,
And make us wade even in our kindred's blood:
Therefore, we banish you our Territories.
You coufin Hereford, on pain of death,

Till twice five Summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our fair Dominions,

But tread the ftranger paths of Banishment.

8 To wake our Peace.

-which thus rouz'd up

Might fright fair Peace.] Thus the fentence ftands in the common reading, abfurdly enough which made the Oxford Editor, inftead of, fright fair Peace, read, be affrighted; as if thefe latter words could ever, poffibly, have been blundered into the former by tranfcribers. But his bufinefs is to alter as his fancy leads him, not to reform errors, as the text and rules of criticism direct. In a word, then, the true original of the blunder was this: The Editors, before Mr. Pope, had taken their Editions from the Folios, in which the text ftood thus,

the dire afpect

Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour fwords;
Which thus rouz'd up,

fright fair Peace.

This is fenfe. But Mr. Pope, who carefully examined the first printed plays in Quarto, (very much to the advantage of his Edi tion) 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 Shakespear himself, as not agreeing to the reft of the context; which, on revise, he thought fit to alter. On this account I have put them into hooks, not as fpurious, but as rejected on the author's revife; and, indeed, with great judgment; for,

To wake our Peace, which in our country's cradle

Draws the fweet infant breath of gentle fleep.

as pretty as it is in the image, is abfurd in the fenfe: For Peace awake is still Peace, as well as when afleep. The difference is, that Peace afleep gives one the notion of a happy people funk in floth and luxury, which is not the idea the speaker would raife, nd from which ftate, the fooner it was awaked the better.

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 fome unwillingness pronounce. The fly-flow hours fhall not determinate The dateless limit of thy dear exile : The hopeless word, of never to return, Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Mowb. A heavy Sentence, my moft fovereign Liege,
And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth :
A dearer merit, not fo deep a maim,

As to be caft forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your Highness' hands.
The language I have learn'd thefe forty years,
My native English, now I must forego;
"And now my tongue's ufe is to me no more,
"Than an unftringed viol, or a harp ;

Or, like a cunning Inftrument cas'd up, ** Or being open, put into his hands

"That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Within
my mouth you have engoal'd my tongue,
Doubly port-cullis'd with my Teeth and Lips:
And dull, unfeeling, barren Ignorance
Is made my Goaler 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. 9 It boots thee not to be compaffionate;
After our Sentence, Plaining comes too late.

Mowb. Then thus I turn me from my Country's light,

To dwell in folemn fhades of endless night.

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with ye.
Lay on our royal Sword your banish'd hands
Swear by the duty that you owe to heav'n,

9 It boots thee not to be compaffionate; ] compaffionate, for plaintive.

(Our

1 (Our part therein we banish with your felves,)
To keep the oath that we administer :

You never fhall, (fo help you truth, and heav'n!)
Embrace each other's love in Banishment;
Nor ever look upon each other's face,
Nor ever write, regreet, or reconcile

This low'ring tempeft of your home-bred hate;
Nor ever by advised purpose meet,

To plot, contrive, or complot any Ill,

'Gainft us, our State, our Subjects, or our Land. Boling. I fwear.

Mowb. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. Norfolk, fo far, as to mine enemy:
By this time, had the King permitted us,
One of our fouls had wandred in the air,
Banifh'd this frail fepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land.
Confefs thy treasons, ere thou fly this Realm;
Since thou haft far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty foul.

Morb. 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, heav'n, thou, and I do know, And all too foon, 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.

SCENE V.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glaffes of thine eyes I fee thy grieved heart, thy fad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd

years Pluck'd four away; fix frozen winters spent, Return with Welcome home from Banishment.

1 (Our part therein we banish with your felves,)] It is a queftion much debated amongst the writers of the Law of Nations, whether a banish'd man be ftill tied in allegiance to the ftate which fent him into exile. Tully and Lord Chancellor Clarendon declare for the affirmative: Hobbs and Puffendorf hold the negative. Our author, by this line, feems to be of the fame opinion.

C 5

Boling.

Boling. How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging Winters, and four wanton Springs,
End in a word; fuch is the Breath of Kings.

Gaunt. I thank my Liege, that in regard of me
He fhortens four years of my fon's exile:
But little vantage fhall I reap thereby ;

For ere the fix years, that he hath to spend,
Can change their moons and bring their times about,
My oyl-dry'd lamp, and time bewafted light,
Shall be extinct with age, and endless night :
My inch of taper will be burnt and done :
And blindfold death not let me fee my for.

K. Rich. Why, uncle? thou haft many years to live.
Gaunt. But not a minute, King, that thou canft give;
Shorten my days thou canft with fullen forrow,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
Thou canft help time to furrow me with age,
But ftop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
Thy word is currant with him, for my death
But dead, thy Kingdom cannot buy my breath.
K. Rich. Thy fon is banish'd upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave ;
Why at our juftice feem'ft thou then to low'r?

;

Gaunt. Things, fweet to tafte, prove in digestion fow'r :

You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather,
You would have bid me argue like a father.
Ó, had it been a ftranger, not my child,

To fmooth his Fault, I would have been more mild:
Alas, I look'd, when fome of you should fay,
I was too ftrict to make mine own away :
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Againft my will, to do my felf this wrong.
A partial flander sought I to avoid,
And in the Sentence my own life destroy'd.

K. Rich. Coufin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him fo: Six years we banish him, and he fhall go. [Flourish.

[Exit.

2 A partial flander, &c.] These two lines added from the first

Edition.

Mr. Pope.

SCENE