Let me unkifs the oath 'twixt thee and me;
And yet not fo, for with a kifs 'twas made.—
Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and fickness pines the clime;
My wife to France; from whence, fet forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like fweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas," or fhort'ft of day.
QUEEN. And muft we be divided? must we part?
K. RICH. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and
heart from heart.

8

QUEEN. Banish us both, and fend the king with me. NORTH. That were fome love, but little policy." QUEEN. Then whither he goes, thither let me go." K. RICH. So two, together weeping, make one woe. Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here; Better far off, than-near, be ne'er the near'.9

5 Let me unkifs the oath 'twixt thee and me;

And yet not fo, for with a kifs 'twas made.] A kifs appears to have been an established circumftance in our ancient nuptial ceremony. So, in Marston's Infatiate Countess, 1613, the Duke, on parting with his wife, fays to her:

"The kifs thou gav'ft me in the church, here take." STEEVENS. 6 Hallowmas,] All-hallows, or all-hallowtide; the first of November. STEEVENS.

↑ That were fome love, &c.] The quartos give this speech to the king. STEEVENS.

8 Then whither he goes, thither let me go.] So, in the Book of Ruth, i. 16: "r for whither thou goeft, I will go." STEEVENS. 9 Better far off, than-near, be ne'er the near'.] To be never the nigher, or, as it is commonly spoken in the midland counties, ne'er the ne'er, is, to make no advance towards the good defired. JOHNSON. So, in The legend of Shore's wife, by Thomas Churchyard, Mirrour for Magiftrates, 1578:

Compel the hauke to fit, that is unmann'd,

"Or make the hound untaught to draw the deere,
"Or bring the free against his will in band,

"Or move the fad a pleasant tale to hear,

"Your time is loft, and you are never the near."

Go, count thy way with fighs; I, mine with

groans QUEEN. So longest way fhall have the longest

moans.

K. RICH. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being fhort,

And piece the way out with a heavy heart. Come, come, in wooing forrow let's be brief, Since, wedding it, there is fuch length in grief. One kifs fhall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart.

[They kifs. QUEEN. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart."

[Kifs again.

So, now I have mine own again, begone,
That I may ftrive to kill it with a groan.

K. RICH. We make woe wanton with this fond

delay:

Once more, adieu; the reft let forrow fay. [Exeunt.

The fame. A Room in the Duke of YORK's Palace. Enter YORK, and his Duchefs.

DUCH. My lord, you told me, you would tell the rest, When weeping made you break the ftory off Of our two coufins coming into London.

The meaning is, it is better to be at a great diftance, than being near each other, to find that we yet are not likely to be peaceably and happily united. MALONE.

and kill thy heart.] So, in our author's Venus and Adonis : they have murder'd this poor heart of mine." MALONE. Again, in K. Henry V. A&t II. fc. i: " -he'll yield the crow a pudding one of thefe days: the king hath kill'd his heart." STEEVENS.

TORK. Where did I leave?

DUCH.
At that fad ftop, my lord,
Where rude mifgovern'd hands, from windows' tops,
Threw duft and rubbish on king Richard's head.
TORK. Then, as I faid, the duke, great Boling-
broke,-

Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,

Which his afpiring rider feem'd to know,-
With flow, but ftately pace, kept on his course,
While all tongues cried-God fave thee, Boling-
broke!

You would have thought the very windows fpake,
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through cafements darted their defiring eyes
Upon his vifage; and that all the walls,
With painted imag'ry, had faid at once,'-
Jefu preferve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!
Whilft he, from one fide to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud fteed's neck,
Befpake them thus,-I thank you, countrymen:
And thus ftill doing, thus he pafs'd along.

DUCH. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the
while?

*

YORK. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious:

Even fo, or with much more contempt, men's eyes

3 With painted imag'ry, had faid at once,] Our author probably was thinking of the painted clothes that were hung in the treets, in the pageants that were exhibited in his own time; in which the figures fometimes had labels iffuing from their mouths, containing fentences of gratulation. MALONE.

4 Are idly bent-] That is, carelessly turned, thrown without attention. This the poet learned by his attendance and practice on the stage. JOHNSON.

Did fcowl on Richard; no man cried, God fave him;

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
But duft was thrown upon his facred head;
Which with fuch gentle forrow he shook off,-
His face ftill combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience,'—
That had not God, for fome ftrong purpose, steel'd
The hearts of men, they muft perforce have melted,
And barbarifm itself have pitied him.

But heaven hath a hand in thefe events;

To whofe high will we bound our calm contents. To Bolingbroke are we fworn fubjects now, Whofe ftate and honour I for aye allow.

5 His face ftill combating with tears and smiles,

The badges of his grief and patience,] There is, I believe, no image, which our poet more delighted in than this. So, in a former fcene of this play:

"As a long-parted mother with her child,

66

Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting.”

Again, in K. Lear:

"Patience and forrow ftrove

"Who fhould exprefs her goodlieft:

her fmiles and tears

"Were like a better May."

Again, in Cymbeline :

nobly he yokes

"A fmiling with a figh."

Again, in Macbeth:

"My plenteous joys,

"Wanton in fullnefs, feek to hide themselves
"In drops of forrow."

Again, in Coriolanus:

"Where senators fhall mingle tears with smiles.”

Again, in The Tempeft:

86

"To

I am a fool

weep at what I am glad of.” So alfo, Drayton in his Mortimeriados, 4to. 1596: With thy fweete kiffes fo them both beguile, "Untill they smiling weep, and weeping fmile."

MALONE.

Enter AUMERLE.

DUCH. Here comes my fon Aumerle.

YORK.
Aumerle that was;'
But that is loft, for being Richard's friend,
And, madam, you must call him Rutland now:
I am in parliament pledge for his truth,
And lafting fealty to the new-made king.

DUCH. Welcome, my fon: Who are the violets now,
That ftrew the green lap of the new-come spring?"
AUM. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not:
God knows, I had as lief be none, as one.

YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,

Left you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? hold thofe jufts and
triumphs?"

AUM. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
YORK. You will be there, I know.

AUM. If God prevent it not; I purpose so.

• Aumerle that was;] The Dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter, were by an act of Henry's first parliament deprived of their dukedoms, but were allowed to retain their earldoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon. Hilinfbed, p. 513, 514.

STEEVENS. That frew the green lap of the new-come spring?] So, in Milton's Song on May Morning:

-who from her green lap throws

"The yellow cowflip, and the pale primrose." STEEVENS. 8 bear you well-] That is, conduct yourself with pru dence. JOHNSON.

9jufts and triumphs?] Triumphs are Shows, fuch as Masks, Revels, &c.

So, in the Third Part of K. Henry VI. A& V. fc. vii:

"And now what refts, but that we spend the time
"With stately triumphs, mirthful comick shows,
"Such as befit the pleasures of the court?" STEEVENS.

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