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A wilderness is populous enough,

So Suffolk had thy heavenly company,,

For where thou art, there is the world itself:
With ev'ry fev'ral pleasure in the world:

And where thou art not, defolation.

SCENE IX. Dying, with the Perfon belov'd, preferable to parting.

If I depart from thee, I cannot live; And in thy fight to die, what wert it else, But like a pleasant flumber in thy lap? Here could I breathe my foul into the air, As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe Dying with mother's dug between his lips.

SCENE X. The Death-bed Horrors of a guilty Confcience.

(8) Bring me unto my trial, when you will. Dy'd he not in his bed? Where should he die? Can I make men live whether they will or no?

Oh,

language of love, and employed by Tibullus to his own mif trefs.

Sic ego fecretis poffum bene vivere fylvis,
Qua nulla humano fit via trita pede:
Tu mibi curarum requics, tu nocte vel atrâ
Lumen & in Solis tu mihi turba locis.

L. 4. e. 122

A wilderness, unknown to man, with thee
Were bleft, and populous enough for me;
For where thou art each forrow flies away,
Defarts are worlds, and night outfhines the day.

I have often lamented we have not fo good a translation of this delicate poet and polite lover, as his excellence deferves.

(8) Bring, &c.] Nothing can more admirably picture to us the horror of a guilty confcience, than this frantic raving of the cardinal:

When

Oh, torture me no more, I will confess
Alive again? Then shew me where he is:
I'll give a thousand pounds to look upon him-
He hath no eyes, the duft hath blinded them:
Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright,
Like lime-twigs fet to catch my winged foul:
Give me fome drink, and bid th' apothecary
Bring the strong poifon that I bought of him.

Is

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Night.

(9) The gaudy, babling, and remorseful day crept into the bofom of the sea:

(10) And now loud howling wolves arouse the jades, That dragic melancholy night;

When death's approach is feen fo terrible-
Ah, what a fign it is of evil life!

Who

Thus hath guilt, even in this world, its due reward, and iniquity is not fuffered to go unpunished: the well-weighing fuch frightful fcenes might, perhaps, be of no fmall service to fuch as defpife lectures from the pulpit, and laugh at the interested reprefentations of divines.

(9) The, &c,] See the laft paffage in the Midsummer Night's Dream. Spencer, speaking of night, fays;

And all the while fhe stood upon the ground,

The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay,
As giving warning of th' unwonted found,
With which her iron wheels did them affray,
And her dark griefly look, them much difmay.
The meffenger of death, the ghaftly owl,
With dreary fhrieks, did also her bewray,
And hungry wolves continually did howl,

At her abhorred face, fo filthy and fo foul.

See Faerie Queene, B. 1. c. 5. ft. 30.

(10) No numbers can better exprefs the thing than these, Shakespear fhews us, that he can as well excel in that, as in every other branch of poetry. None of the fo celebrated lines of Ho

mey

Who with their drowsy, flow, and flagging wings,
Clip dead mens graves; and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

SCENE VI. Kent.

(11) Kent, in the commentaries Cæfar writ, Is term'd the civil'ft place of all this ifle; Sweet is the country, because full of riches; The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy.

Lord Say's Apology for himself.

Juftice, with favour, have I always done; Prayers and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never: (12) When have I aught exacted at your hands? Kent, to maintain, the king, the realm and

you.

Large

mer and Virgil, of this fort, deserve more commendation: here the line, as it ought, justly labours, and the verse moves flow. However, I intend not to enter into any criticifm on Shakespear's verfification, wherein could we prove him fuperior to all other writers, we must still acknowledge it the least and most trifling matter wherein he is fuperior. It is worth obferving, that what Shakespear fays of the clipping dead mens graves, might not impoffibly be taken from Theocritus, who, fpeaking of Hecate, the infernal and nocturnal deity, in his 2d Idyllium, says—

Τα χθόνια Εκατα, &c.

Infernal Hecate, howling dogs abhor,

When 'midst the dead mens graves, and putrid gore,
She ftalks-

(11) Kent, &c.] York, in the next play, A. 1. S. 4. speaking of the Kentimen, fays,

In them I truft; for they are foldiers,

Wealthy and courteous, liberal, full of fpirit.

(12) When, &c.] The interrogation in all the editions is placed at the end of this line: the paffage, in my opinion, hould be pointed thus:

When

Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks;
Becaufe my book preferr❜d me to the king:
And feeing ignorance is the curfe of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
Unless you be poffefs'd with dev'lish fpirits,

You cannot but forbear to murder me.

When have I ought exacted at your hands,

Kent, to maintain, the king, the realm, and you?

This renders the passage plain and easy that he should have bestowed gifts on learned clerks to maintain Kent, the king, &c. is fomething very unreasonable; that he should have bestowed gifts on them becaufe his book preferred him to the king, is not only reasonable, but extremely probable.

General Obfervations.

THE contention (fays Mrs. Lenox between the two houses of York and Lancaster furnishes the incidents which compose this play. The action begins with King Henry's marriage, which was in the twenty-third year of his reign, and clofes with the first battle fought at St. Albans and won by the York faction, in the thirtythird year of his reign; fo that it takes in the history and tranfactions of ten years.

Shakefpcar has copied Holing fhed pretty clofely throughout this whole play, except in his relation of the Duke of Suffolk's death. The Chronicle tells us, that King Henry, to fatisfy the nobility and people, who hated this favourite, condemned him to banishment during the space of five years. In his paffage to France he was taken by a fhip of war belonging to the Duke of Exeter, conftable of the Tower; the captain of which fhip carried him into Dover road, and there ftruck off his head on the fide of a cock-boat.

In Shakespear, he is taken by English pirates on the coast of Kent, who, notwithstanding the large ranfom he offers them, refolve to murder him. One of them, in the courfe of his converfation with the Duke, tells him, that his name is Walter Whitmore;

Whitmore; and obferving him start, asks him, if he is frighted at death, to which Suffolk replied.

Thy name affrights me, in whofe found is death,

A cunning man did calculate my birth,

And told me that by Walter I should die.

This circumftance is not to be found, either in Hall or Heling fhed; and as it has greatly the air of fiction, Shakespear probably borrowed it from the fame tale that furnished him with the loves of Suffolk and the Queen, on which feveral paffionate scenes in this play, as well as the former, are built.

The

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