To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd Moon; Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship! a world of figures here, But not the form of what he fhould attend -Good Coufin, give me audience for a while. Hot. I cry you mercy. Wor. Thofe fame noble Scots, That are your prifoners Hot. I'll keep them all; By heav'n, he fhall not have a Scot of them; Wor. You ftart away, And lend no ear unto my purpofes; He faid, he would not ransom Mortimer, motion of turbulent defire; as But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship! I think this finely expreffed. The image is taken from one who turns from another, fo as to ftand before him with a fide face; which implied neither a full conforting, nor a feparation. WARB. I cannot think this word right ly explained. It alludes rather to drefs. A coat is faid to be faced, when part of it, as the fleeves or bofom, is covered with fomething finer and more fplendid than the main fubftance. The mantua-makers ftill use the word. Half-fac'd fellowship is then partnerfhip but half adorned, partnerfhip which yet wants half the here of dignities and honours. a world of figures here, &c.] Figure is ufed here equivocally. As it is applied to Hot-pur's fpeech, it is a rhetorical mode; as oppofed to form, it means appearance or shape. Nay, Nay, I will have a Starling taught to speak Hot. All Studies here I folemnly defy, 7 And that fame fword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, Wor. Farewel, my kinfman! I will talk to you, North. Why, what a wafp-tongu'd and impatient fool, Art thou, to break into this woman's mood, Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own? Hot. Why, look you, I am whipt and fcourg'd with rods, Nettled, and stung with pifmires, when I hear In Richard's time-what do ye call the place?- Hot. You fay true: Why, what a deal of candy'd Courtefy And that fame fword-andbuckler Prince of Wales.] A Royfter, or turbulent fellow, that fought in the taverns, or raifed diforders in the ftrects, was called a fwash-backler. In this fenfe fword-and-buckler is ufed here. *Alluding to what paffed in King Richard, A& II. Śc. IX. K 4 Wor.. Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again; We'll stay your leisure. Hot. I have done, i'faith. Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prifoners. [To Hot-fpur. Deliver them without their ransom straight, And make the Dowglas' Son your only mean Will eafily be granted.-You, my lord, [To North. Of that fame noble Prelate, well belov'd, Hot. York, is't not? Wor. True, who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop. As what, I think, might be; but what, I know, And only stays but to behold the face Of that occafion, that fhall bring it on. Hot. I fmell it. On my life, it will do well. * I speak not this in eftimation,] Eftimation for conjecture. But between this and the foregoing verse it appears there were fome lines which are now loft. For, confider the fenfe. What was it that was ruminated, plotted, and fet down? Why, as the text ftands at prefent, that the Archbishop bore his brother's death bard. It is plain then that they were fome confequences of that refentment which the fpeaker informed Hot-fpur of, and to which his conclufion of, I speak not this by conjecture, but on good proof, must be referred. But fome player, I fuppofe, thinking the fpeech too long, ftruck them out. WARBURTON If the Editor had, before he wrote his note, read ten lines forward, he would have feen that nothing is omitted. Worcester gives a dark hint of a confpiracy. Hot-pur fmells it, that is, guefes it. Northumberland reproves him for not fuffering Worcester to tell his defign. Hot-fpur, according to the vehemence of his temper, ftill follows his own conjecture. *To let flip is, to loofe the greyhound. Hot. It cannot chufe but be a noble Plot; And then the Power of Scotland and of York To join with Mortimer---ha! Wor. So they fhall. Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. Wor. And 'tis no little reafon bids us fpeed To fave our heads, by rajfing of a head*; For, bear ourfelves as even as we can, 9 The King will always think him in our debt; And think, we deem ourfelves unfatisfy'd, Till he hath found a time to pay us home, And see already, how he doth begin To make us strangers to his looks of love, Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him. Wor. Coufin, farewel. No further go in this, Than I by letters fhall direct your course. When time is ripe, which will be fuddenly, I'll fteal to Glendower, and lord Mortimer, Where you and Dowglas, and our Pow'rs at once, (As I will fashion it) hall happily meet, To bear our fortunes in our own ftrong arms, Which now we hold at much uncertainty. North. Farewel, good brother; we shall thrive, I truft. Hot. Uncle, adieu. O let the hours be fhort, 'Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our fport! A bead is a body of forces. ? This is a natural defcription of the ftate of mind between those that have conferred, and those that have received, obliga [Exeunt. tions too great to be fatisfied. That this would be the event of Northumberland's difloyalty, was predicted by King Richard in the former play. ACT ACT II. SCENE I An Inn at Rochefter. Enter a Carrier with a Lanthorn in his Hand. H I CARRIER. EIGH ho! an't be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd. Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horfe not packt. What, oftler? Oft. [within.] Anon, anon. 1 Car. I pr'ythee, Tom, beat Cutt's faddle, put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers, out of all cefs. I Enter another Carrier. 2 2 Car. Peafe and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the 3 bots: this houfe is turn'd upfide down, fince Robin Oftler dy'd. 1 Car. Poor fellow never joy'd fince the price of oats rofe; it was the death of him. 2 Car. I think, ,this be the most villianous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a Tench. 1 Car. Like a Tench? by th' Mafs, there's ne'er being taken from a cefs, tax or fubfidy; which being by regular and moderate rates, when any thing was exorbitant, or out of measure, it was faid to be, out of all cefs. WARBURTON. 2 as dank.] i. e. wet, rotten. POPE. 3 Botts are worms in the ftomach of a horse. |