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SCENE III. A good Wife.

-A loss of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her that loves him with that excellence,
That angels love good men with ; even of her,
That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls
Wilt bless the king.

Scene V. The Blessings of a low Station.

'Tis better to be lowly born,

with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glitt'ring grief, And wear a golden forrow. SCENE VI. Queen Catharine's Speech to her

Husband. (2) -Alas, Sir, In what have I offended you? What cause Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, That this you should proceed to put me off, And take your good grace from me? Heav'n witness, I've been to you a true and humble wife, At all times to your will conformable:


(1) Horace thus advises in his roth epiftle, L. I.

-Fuge magna, &c.
Forsake the gaudy tinsel of the great ;
The peaceful cottage beckons a retreat :
Where true content a solid comfort brings

To kings unknown, or favourites of kings. (2) Alas, Sir, &c.] The Reader will find in the 2d scene of the 3d act of the Winter's Tale, a speech, made by the queen, on being accused by her husband, very similar to this : 'Tis ipoken in court, where the innocent Herniione appear’d, and was condemned by her jealous husband.

Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your count'nınce; glad or forry,
As I saw it inclin'd: when was the hour,
I ever contradicted your defire ?
Or made it not mine too? Which of your

Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? What friend of mine,
That had to him deriv'd your anger,

did I
Continue in iny liking ? Nay, give notice,
He was from thence discharg'd. Sir, call to mind,
That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upwards of twenty years; and have been bleit
With many children by you. If in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
My bond of wedlock, or my love and duty.
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpett kind of justice.
Queen Catharine's Speech to Cardinal Wolsey.

-You are meek, and humble-mouth'd ;; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, With nieekness and humility : but your heart Is crainın'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride : You have by fortune, and his highness's favours, Gone flightly o’er low steps ; and now are mounted Where pow’rs are your retainers; and your words, Domesticks to you, ferve your will, as't please Yourself pronounce their oflice. I must tell you, You tender more your person's honour, than Your high profession spiritual..

Scene VII. King Henry's Character- of Queen

That man i'th'world who shall report he has
A better wife, let hiin in nought be trusted,


E 5

For speaking false in that. Thou art alone
(If thy rare qualities, fweet gentleness,
Thy meekness faint-like, wife-like government
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious, could but speak thee out)
The queen of earthly queens.

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On her own Merit.
Have I liv'd thus long (let me speak myself,
Since virtue finds no friends) a wife, a true one?
A woman (I dare say, without vain glory)
Never yet branded with fufpicion ?
Have I, with all my full affections,
Still met the king lov'd him, next heav'n obey'd him?
Been, out of fondnefs, superstitious to him?
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am 1 thus rewarded ? 'Tis not well, lords.
Bring me a conftant woman to her husband,
One, that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure ;
And to that woman, when the has done moft,
Yet will I add an honour; a great patience.

Queen Catharine compared to a Lily.

-Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field and flourish’d,
I'll hang my head and perish.

Obedience to Princes.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
So much they love it: but to stubborn fpirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.

SCENS (3) Like the lily, &c.] So Spenser calls The lily, lady of the flow'ring field.

Føeric Queene, B.2. c. 6. 1. 16

SCENE III. Horror, its outward Effects.

Some strange commotion
Is in his brain; he bites his lip, and starts ;
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; ftrait,
Springs out into fast gait, then stops again ;
Strikes his breast hard, and then, anon, he casts
His eye against the moon : in most strange postures
We've seen him set himself.

Firm Allegiance.

-Though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and
Appear in forms as horrid; yet my duty,
(4) As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.

Scene IV. Anger, its external Effects. What sudden anger's this? How have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if rain


(4) As doth, lic. This fimile is used both by Virgil and. Homer.

He, like a rock amidst the feas unmov’d,
Stands opposite resisting; like a rock
Amidst the fea: which while the roaring tide
Encroaches, with its weight itself sustains
Among the noisy waves : in vain the cliffs
Foaming rebellow loud ; and all around
The broken sea-weed dashes on its sides.

See Trap. Æn. 70 And again ;

He like a rock, which o'er the ocean wide,
Hangs prominent, expos'd to winds and waves
And all the rage of fea and sky endures,
Stands fix'd unmovidna

See Id. Æn. 109

Leap'd from his eyes. (5) So looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman, that has gall’d him; Then makes him nothing.

Falling Greatness.

-Nay, then farewel !
I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness
And, froin that full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall,
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Scene VI. The Vicisitudes of Life.
So farewel to the liitle good you bear me.
Farewel ! a long farewel to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; to-day he puts

The tender leaves of hopes, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And when he thinks good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening, (6) nips his root,
And then he falls as I do; I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys, that swiin on bladders,


(5) So looks, &c.]

So when on sultry Libya's defert sand,
The lion spies the hunter hard at hand :
Couch'd on the earth the doubtful favage lies,
And waits a while, till all his fury rise :
His lashing tail provokes his swelling sides,
And high upon his neck, his mane with horror rides :
Then, if at length the flying dart infeft,
Or the broad fpear invade his ample breast,
Scorning the wound, he yawns a dreadful roar,
And Aies Hike lightning on the hostile Moor.

Rowe's Luran, B. 1. (6) Nips bis ront.] It is plain the poet speaks of the destruction of the tree by the frost ripping and killing the root, not the

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