Thou fhak'ft thy head, and 'hold'ft it fear, or fin,
To fpeak a truth. If he be flain, say so.
The tongue offends not, that reports his death;
And he doth fin, that doth belie the dead,
Not he, which fays the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a lofing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a fullen bell,
Remember'd, tolling a departing friend.

Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your fon is dead.
Mort. I'm forry, I fhould force you to believe
That, which, I would to heav'n, I had not feen;
But thefe mine eyes faw him in bloody ftate,
Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd,
To Henry Monmouth; whofe fwift wrath beat down
The never-daunted Percy to the earth,

From whence, with life, he never more fprung up.
In few, his death, whofe fpirit lent a fire
Even to the dulleft peafant in his Camp,
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
From the beft-temper'd courage in his troops;
For from his metal was his party steel'd;

Fear, for danger. WARBURTON. If he be fain, fay fo.] The words fay fo are in the first folio, but not in the quarto: they are neceffary to the verfe, but the fenfe proceeds as well without them.

was

Which

·hold' fi it fear, or fin.] his metal was abated, as well
as bis courage
abated.
See what is faid on this fub-
ject on Love's Labour's Loft,
Act V. But when the writer
fhews, as here, both before and
after, [—his party feel'd-
turn'd on themselves like dull and
heary lead] that his intention
was not to drop the idea from
whence he took his metaphor,
that he cannot fay with propriety
and elegance, his metal was c-
bated; because what he predi
cates of metal, must be then
convey'd in a term conformable
to the metaphor. Hence I con-
clude that Shakespeare wrote,

7 For from his metal was his
party field;
Which once in him ABATED,-]
The word metal is one of thofe
hacknied metaphorical terms,
which refumes fo much of a li-
teral fenfe as not to need the idea
(from whence the figure is taken)
to be kept up. So that it may
with elegance enough be faid,

Which once in him abated, all the reft
Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
And as the thing, that's heavy in its felf,
Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed;
So did our men, heavy in Hot-fpur's lofs,
Lend to this weight fuch lightness with their fear,
That arrows fled not fwifter toward their aim,
Than did our foldiers, aiming at their safety,
Fly from the field. Then was that noble Wor'fter
Too foon ta'en prifoner: and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whofe well-labouring fword
Had three times flain th' appearance of the King,
'Gan vail his ftomach, and did grace the fhame
Of thofe that turn'd their backs; and in his flight,
Stumbling in fear, was took. The fum of all
Is, that the King hath won; and hath sent out
A speedy Pow'r to encounter you, my lord,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster
And Westmorland. This is the news at full.

North. For this, I fhall have time enough to mourn;
In poifon there is phyfick, and this news,

That would, had I been well, have made me fick,
Being fick, hath in fome meafure made me well.
And as the wretch, whofe fever-weaken'd joints,
Like strengthlefs hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire

Out of his keeper's arms; ev'n so my limbs,
Weaken'd with grief, being now inrag'd with grief,
Are thrice themfelves. Hence, therefore, thou nice

crutch;

Which once in him RELATED,-
i.e. blunted. WARBURTON.
Here is a great effort to pro-
duce little effect. The commen-
tator does not feem fully to un-
derstand the word abated, which
is not here put for the general
idea of diminished, nor for the
notion of blunted as applied to a
VOL. IV.

R

fingle edge, but for reduced to a lower temper, or, as the workmen now call it, let down. It is very proper.

8 Gan vail his fomach. -} Began to fall his courage, to let his fpirits fink under his fortune. 9-buckle] Bend; yield to preffure.

A fcaly

A fcaly gauntlet now with joints of steel

Muft glove this hand. And hence, thou fickly quoif,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which Princes, flefh'd with conqueft, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron, and approach
'The rugged'ft hour that time and fpight dare bring
To frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!
Let heav'n kifs earth! now let not nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd; let order die,
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a lingring act:
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bofoms, that each heart being fet
On bloody courses, the rude fcene may end,
And darkness be the burier of the dead!"

Bard. This ftrained paffion doth you wrong, my lord!

Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. Mort. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er To ftormy paffion, muft perforce decay.

4

You caft th'event of war, my noble lord,

The old Edition, The ragged'it Hour that Time and Spight dare bring To frown, &c.] There is no Confonance of Metaphors betwixt ragged and frown; nor, indeed, any Dignity in the Image. On both Accounts, therefore, I fufpect, our Author wrote, as I have reformed the Text, The rugged'ft Hour, &c. THEOB.

2 The conclufion of this noble fpeech is extremely ftriking. There is no need to fuppofe it exactly philofophical; darkness in poetry may be abfence of eyes as well as privation of light. Yet we may remark, that by an

And fumm'd th'account of chance, before you faid,
Let us make head. It was your prefurmife,
That, in the dole of blows, your fon might drop;
You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge
More likely to fall in, than to get o'er;
You were advis'd, his flesh was capable

Of wounds and fears; and that his forward fpirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
Yet did you fay, Go forth. And none of this,
Though ftrongly apprehended, could restrain
The ftiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
Or what hath this bold enterprize brought forth,
More than That being, which was like to be?

Bard. We all, that are engaged to this lofs,
Knew, that we ventur'd on fuch dang'rous feas,
That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one;
And yet we ventur'd for the gain propos'd,
Choak'd the refpect of likely peril fear'd;
And fince we are o'er-fet, venture again.
Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
Mort. 'Tis more than time; and my most noble
lord,

I hear for certain, and do fpeak the truth:
'The gentle Arch-bishop of York is up
With well-appointed Powers. He is a man,
Who with a double furety binds his followers.
My lord, your fon had only but the corps,
But shadows, and the fhews of men to fight;
For that fame word, Rebellion, did divide
The action of their bodies from their fouls,

And they did fight with queafinefs, conftrain'd,
As men drink potions, that their weapons only
Seem'd on our fide, but for their fpirits and fouls,
This word, Rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond. But now, the Bishop
Turns Infurrection to Religion;

Suppos'd fincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind,
And doth enlarge his Rifing with the blood
Of fair King Richard, fcrap'd from Pomfret ftones;
Derives from heav'n his quarrel and his caufe;
Tells them, he doth beftride a bleeding land
Gafping for life under great Bolingbroke,
And more, and lefs, do flock to follow him.
North. I knew of this before, but to fpeak truth,
This prefent grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me, and counfel every man

The apteft way for fafety and revenge.

Get pofts, and letters, and make friends with speed; Never fo few, nor never yet more need.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir John Falstaff, with his Page bearing his fword and buckler.

Fal.

Irrah, you, giant! what fays the doctor to my water?

Page. He faid, Sir, the water it self was a good healthy water. But for the party that own'd it, he might have more diseases than he knew for.

Fal. Men of all forts take a pride to gird at me.

6 Tells them, he doth befiride a bleeding land. That is, ftands over his country to defend her as the lies bleeding on

the ground. So Falstaff before fays to the Prince, If thou fee me dorun, Hal, and beftride me, fo; it is an office of friendship.

The