Therefore, we banish you our Territories. But tread the stranger paths of Banishment. Boling. Your will be done: this must my comfort be, That Sun, that warms you here, fhall fhine 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. 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: criticism, direct. In a word, then, the true original of the blun der was this: The Editors, before Mr. Pope, had taken their Editions from the Folios, in which the text stood thus, the dire afpe&t Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords; -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 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 Shakespear himself, as not agreeing to the rest of the context; which, on revife, 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 feet infant breath of gentle fleep, as pretty as it is in the image, is abfurd in the fenfe: For Peace awake is fill 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 raise, and from which fate, the fooner it was awaked the better. VOL. IV. C A A dearer merit, not fo deep a maim, Is made my Goaler to attend on me. *** ve Too far in years to be a Pupil now: What is thy Sentence then, but fpeechlefs 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, (Our part therein we banish with your selves,) To keep the oath that we adminifter: You never fhall, (fo help you truth, and heav'n !) 9 It boots thee not to be compaffionate;] compaffionate, for plaintive. 1 (Our part therein we banish with your felves,)] It is a question much debated amongst the writers of the Law of Nations, whether a banifh'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 nega tive. Our author, by this line, seems to be of the fame opinion. Nor Nor ever look upon each other's face, Nor ever write, regreet, or reconcile This low'ring tempeft of your home-bred hate; 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: Mowb. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, [Exit. K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glaffes of thine eyes I fee thy grieved heart, thy fad afpect Hath from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away; fix frozen winters spent, Return with Welcome home from Banifhment. 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, K. Rich. Why, uncle? thou haft many years to live. Thy word is currant with him, for my death ; You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather," To fmooth his Fault, I would have been more mild: K. Rich. Coufin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him so: Six years we banish him, and he fhall go. S C E N E VI. [Flourish. [Exit. Aum. Coufin, farewel; what prefence must not know, From where you do remain, let paper fhow. 2 A partial flander, &c.] Thefe two lines added from the firft Edition. Mr. Pope. Mar. Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride As far as land will let me, by your fide. Gaunt. Oh, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy That thou return'ft no Greeting to thy friends? Gaunt. The fullen paffage of thy weary steps Boling. Nay, rather, ev'ry tedious ftride I make Having my Freedom, boast of Nothing else But that I was a Journeyman to Grief? Gaunt. All Places that the Eye of Heaven visits, Are to a wife man ports and happy havens. Teach thy neceffity to reafon thus: There is no virtue like neceffity. Think not, the King did banish Thee; But Thou the King. Woe doth the heavier fit, 3 All Places that the Eye of Heav'n vifits, &c.] The fourteen verfes that follow, are found in the first Edition. Mr. Pope. C 3 And |