Upon her gentle bofom, and fill up
Her enemies ranks? (I muft withdraw and weep (27);
Upon the spot of this enforced caufe ;)
To grace the gentry of a land remote,
And follow unacquainted colours here ?
What, here? O nation, that thou could't remove !
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
And grapple thee unto a Pagan fhore!
Where these two Chriftian armies might combine
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to fpend it fo un-neighbourly.
Lewis. A noble temper doft thou fhew in this,
And great affection, wrestling in thy bosom,
Doth make an earthquake of nobility.
Oh, what a noble combat haft thou fought,
Between compulfion, and a brave refpe&t!
Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
That filverly doth progrefs on thy cheeks.
My heart hath melted at a Lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation:
Editors, the word franger is here an adjective in its ufage, and to be coupled to march, which is its fubftantive and no verb.
And tread the ranger paths of banishment. And fo in his poem, call'd, Tarquin and Lucrece ; But the, that never cop'd with firarger eyes, As to the ufe of this word adjectively, I have already spoke in my 2d. note on Midsummer Night's Dream.
I muft withdraw, and weep
Upon the spot, for this enforced caufe.] Thus Mr. Pope points. and reads thefe lines: whith, if I understand the drift, is making Salifoury fay, I must go from this spot, and weep upon it."I have chofe to flick to the reading of the old copies, and to throw the paffage into Parenthesis; this is what, I apprehend, the Poet means, Salisbury fhould fay; I muft, turn afide, and weep for this ftain "this difgrace, of our revolt; to which we have been enforced by "the King's proceedings.' So in the laft fpeech of Salisbury to Prince Heny, the word fpot again is ufed.
And the like tender of our love we make
To reft without a pt for evermore.
But this effufion of fuch manly drops,
This fhow'r, blown up by tempeft of the foul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd,
Than had I feen the vaulty top of heav'n
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this form.
Commend these waters to thofe baby-eyes,
That never faw the giant world enrag'd;
Nor met with fortune, other than at feafts,
Full-warm of blood, of mirth, of goffiping.
Come, come; for thou fhalt thruft thy hand as deep
Into the purse of rich profperity,
As Lewis himself; fo, nobles, shall
you all,
That knit your finews to the ftrength of mine.
Enter Pandulph.
And even there, methinks, an angel fpake!
Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
To give us warrant from the hand of heav'n,
And on our actions fet the name of right
With holy breath!
Pand. Hail, noble Prince of France!
The next is this: King John hath reconcil'd
Himself to Rome; his fpirit is come in,
That fo ftood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and fee of Rome.
Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up; ·
And tame the favage fpirit of wild war;
That, like a lion fofter'd up at hand,..
It may lie gently at the foot of peace;
And be no further harmful than in fhew...
Lewis. Your Grace fhall pardon me, I will not back? I am too high-born to be property'd,
To be a fecondary at controul;
Orufeful ferving-man, and inftrument,
To any fovereign State throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of war,
Between this chaftis'd kingdom and myself;-
And brought in matter, that should feed this fires
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out,
With that fame weak wird which enkindled it..
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with int'reft to this land;
Yea, thruft this enterprize into my heart:
And come ye now, to tell me John hath made
His peace
with Rome? what is that peace to me ?
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine:
And now it is half conquer'd, must I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome ?
Am I Rome's flave? what penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To under-prop this action? is't not I,
That undergo this charge who else but I,
And fuch as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this bufinefs, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard thefe iftanders fhout out,
Vive le Roy! as I have bank'd their towns ?
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this eafy match, play'd for a crown?
And fhall I now give o'er the yielded fet?
No, on my foul, it never fhall be faid.
Pand. You look but on the outfide of this work.
Lewis. Outfide or infide, I will not return,
Till my attempt fo much be glorify'd,
As to my ample hope was promifed,
Before I drew this gallant head of war;
And cull'd these fiery fpirits from the world,.
To outlook conqueft, and to win renown
Ev'n in the jaws of danger, and of death.
[Trumpet Jounds. What lufty trumpet thus doth fummon us?
Faule. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience: I am fent to speak,
My holy Lord of Milain, from the King:
I come, to learn how you have dealt for him :
And as you anfwer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.
Pand. The Dauphin is too willful-oppofite,
And will not temporize with my intreaties :
He flatly fays, he'll not lay down his arms.
Faulc. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,
The youth fays well. Now hear our English King;
For thus his royalty doth speak in me :
He is prepar'd; and reafon too, he should.
This apifh and unmannerly approach,
This harnefs'd mafk, and unadvised revel,
This unhair'd faucinefs and boyish troops, (28)
(28) This unheard faucinefs, and boyish troops,] Thus the printed copies in general: but unbeard is an epithet of very little force, ur meaning here; befides let us obferve how 'tis coupled. Faulconbridge is fneering at the Dauphin's invafion, as an unadvis'd enterprize, favouring of youth and indifcretion; the refult of childishnefs, and unthinking rafhness: and he seems altogether to dwell on: this character of it, by calling his preparation boyish troops, dwarfish war, pigmy arms, &c. So before, in the 1ft fcene of this act, Faulconbridge fays;
A cockred, fikken, wanton brave our fields?
Let me fubjoin a few inftances to fhew, that this epithet unbair'd isvery much in the mode of our Shakespeare's expreffion. So, in Macbeth.
That even now proteft their first of manhood.. Love's Labour loft.
I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd lovers fay,
If the fearce-bearded Cæfar have not fent
His pow'rful mandate to you?
When with his Amazonian chin he drove
The brifled lips before him.
Be rough and razorable.
For who is he, whofe chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing hair,
And in his poem, call'd, Venus and Adoris ;
Whose beams upon his bairle's face are fix'dz.
The King doth fmile at; and is well-prepar'd:
To whip this dwarfish war, thefe pigmy arms,
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand which had the strength,, ev'n at your door,.
To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch;
To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;
To crouch in litter of your ftable-planks,
To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chefts and trunks ;.
To herd with fwine; to feek fweet fafety out,
In vaults and prifons; and to thrill, and shake,
Ev'n at the crying of our nation's crow,
Thinking his voice an armed English-man;
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
That in your chanbers gave you chaftifement?
No; know, the gallant Monarch is in arms;
And like an eagle o'er his airy, tow'rs,
To foufe annoyance that comes near his neft.
And you degen'rate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neros', ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for fhame..
For your own Ladies, and pale-vifag'd maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums ;
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.
Lewis. There end thy brave,and turnthy face in peace; We grant, thou canft out-fcold us; fare thee well: We hold our time too precious to be spent
With fuch a babler.
Pand. Give me leave to speak.
Faulc. No, I will speak.
Lervis. We will attend to neither:
Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war
Plead for our int'reft, and our being here.
Faule. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And fo fhall you, being beaten; do but start. An echo with the clamour of thy drum, And ev❜n at hand a drum is ready brac'd, That shall reverb'rate all as loud as thine.
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