* By staying there so long, till all were lost.

* Show me one scar charácter'd on thy skin:

* Men's flesh preserv'd so whole, do seldom win.

* Q. Mar. Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire,

* If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with :—

*

* No more, good York;-sweet Somerset, be still;— Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, * Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.

York. What, worse than naught? nay, then a shame take all!

Som. And, in the number, thee, that wishest shame! Car. My lord of York, try what your fortune is. The uncivil Kernes of Ireland are in arms, And temper clay with blood of Englishmen : To Ireland will you lead a band of men, • Collected choicely, from each county some, 'And try your hap against the Irishmen? *York. I will, my lord, so please his majesty. Suf. Why, our authority is his consent;

* And, what we do establish, he confirms:
* Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.

York. I am content: Provide me soldiers, lords,
Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.

Suf. A charge, lord York, that I will see perform'd." 'But now return we to the false duke Humphrey. 'Car. No more of him; for I will deal with him, That, henceforth, he shall trouble us no more. And so break off; the day is almost spent: Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event. York. My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days,

that I will see perform'd.] In the old play this office is given to Buckingham:"

66 Queen. my lord of Buckingham,

"Let it be your charge to muster up such soldiers,
"As shall suffice him in these needful wars.

"Buck. Madam, I will; and levy such a band

"As soon shall overcome those Irish rebels:
"But York, where shall those soldiers stay for thee?
"York. At Bristol I 'll expect them ten days hence.
"Buck. Then thither shall they come, and so farewel."
[Exit Buck.
Malone.

Here again we have a very remarkable variation.

At Bristol I expect my soldiers;

For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.

Suf. I'll see it truly done, my lord of York.

[Exeunt all but YORK. "York. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, 'And change misdoubt to resolution:

* Be that thou hop'st to be; or what thou art

* Resign to death, it is not worth the enjoying:

* Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man, * And find no harbour in a royal heart.

*Faster than spring-time showers, comes thought on thought;

* And not a thought, but thinks on dignity.
* My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,
* Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
*Well, nobles, well; 'tis politickly done,

* To send me packing with an host of men:
* I fear me, you but warm the starved snake,

* Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me:
'I take it kindly; yet, be well assur'd

'You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands.
• Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
* I will stir up in England some black storm,
* Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven, or hell:
* And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage
* Until the golden circuit on my head,7

* Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
* Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw,
And, for a minister of my intent,

'I have seduc'd a head-strong Kentishman,
John Cade of Ashford,

• To make commotion, as full well he can,

7 Until the golden circuit on my head,] So, in Macbeth :
"All that impedes thee from the golden round,
"Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
"To have thee crown'd withall."

Again, in King Henry IV, P. II:

- a sleep

"That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
"So many English kings." Malone.

mad-bred fiaw,] Flaw is a sudden violent gust of wind.

Johnsen.

Under the title of John Mortimer.

* In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
* Oppose himself against a troop of Kernes; 9
* And fought so long,1 till that his thighs with darts
*Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porcupine:
* And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen him
* Caper upright like a wild Mórisco,2

* Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
* Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty Kerne,3
*Hath he conversed with the enemy;

* And undiscover'd come to me again,

* And given me notice of their villainics.

soldiers.

a troop of Kernes;] Kernes were light-armed Irish footSteevens.

1 And fought so long,] Read-And fight so long. Ritson. 2-a wild Mórisco,] A Moor in a military dance, now called Morris, that is, a Moorish dance. Johnson.

In Albion's Triumph, a Masque, 1631, the seventh entry consists of mimicks or Moriscos.

Again, in Marston's What you will, 1607:

"Your wit skips a Morisco."

The Morris-dance was the Tripudium Mauritanicum, a kind of hornpipe. Junius describes it thus: " faciem plerumque inficiunt fulgine, et peregrinum vestium cultum assumunt, qui ludicris talibus indulgent, ut Mauri esse videantur, aut e longius remotâ patriâ credantur advolasse, atque insolens recreationis genus advexisse.".

In the churchwardens' accompts of the parish of St. Helen's in Abington, Berkshire, from the first year of the reign of Philip and Mary, to the thirty-fourth of Queen Elizabeth, the Morrice bells are mentioned. Anno 1560, the third of Elizabeth,-" For two dossin of Morres bells." As these appear to have been purchased by the community, we may suppose this diversion was constantly practised at their public festivals. Steevens.

The editor of The Sad Shepherd, 8vo. 1783, p. 255, mentions seeing a company of morrice-dancers from Abington, at Richmond in Surrey, so late as the summer of 1783. They appeared to be making a kind of annual circuit. Reed.

Morrice-dancing, with bells on the legs, is common at this day in Oxfordshire and the adjacent counties, on May-day,-HolyThursday, and Whitsun-ales, attended by the fool, or, as he is generally called, the 'Squird, and also a lord and lady; nor is the hobby-horse forgot." Harris.

3

- like a shag-hair'd crafty Kerne,] See Vol. VII, p. 188. n. 3; and p. 16. n. 5. Malone.

* This devil here shall be my substitute;
*For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
* In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble:
‹ By this I shall perceive the commons' mind,
'How they affect the house and claim of York.
Say, he be taken, rack'd, and tortured;

I know no pain they can inflict upon him,
'Will make him say-I mov'd him to those arms.
Say, that he thrive, (as 'tis great like he will)
"Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
'And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd:
For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
' And Henry put apart, the next for me.4

SCENE II.5

Bury. A Room in the Palace.

Enter certain Murderers, hastily.

[Exit.

* 1. Mur. Run to my lord of Suffolk; let him know, *We have despatch'd the duke, as he commanded. *2. Mur. O, that it were to do!-What have we done? * Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter SUFFOLK.

1. Mur. Here comes my lord.

4 For, Humphrey being dead, &c.] Instead of this couplet we find in the old play these lines:

"And then Duke Humphrey, he well made away,
"None then can stop the light to England's crown,
"But York can tame, and headlong pull them down."
Malone.

5 Scene II.] This scene, and the directions concerning it, stand thus in the quarto edition:

Then the curtaines being drawne, Duke Humphrey is discovered in his bed, and two men lying on his brest, and smothering him in his bed. And then enter the Duke of Suffolke to them.

Suff. How now, sirs! what, have you dispatcht him? "One. I, my lord; hee 's dead, I warrant you.

"Suff. Then see the cloathes, laid smoothe about him still, "That when the king comes, he may perceive

"No other, but that he dide of his owne accord.
2. "All things is handsome now, my lord.

"Suff. Then draw the curtaines againe, and get you gon, “And you shall have your firme reward anon.”

[Exit Murtherers. Steevens.

Suf.

'Despatch'd this thing?

1. Mur.

Now, sirs, have you

house;

Ay, my good lord, he's dead. Suf. Why that's well said. Go, get you to my I will reward you for this venturous deed. The king and all the peers are here at hand :"Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well, According as I gave directions?

1 Mur. 'Tis, my good lord.

Suf. Away, be gone!

[Exeunt Murderers.

Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BEAU-· FORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and Others.

K. Hen. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight: Say, we intend to try his grace to-day,

If he be guilty, as 'tis published.

Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit. K. Hen. Lords, take your places;-And, I pray you all,

'Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Than from true evidence, of good esteem, He be approv'd in practice culpable.

* Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice should prevail, * That faultless may condemn a nobleman!

* Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion!

*K. Hen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words content me much.6

• I thank thee, Margaret; &c.] In former editions:

I thank thee, Nell, these words content me much.

This is King Henry's reply to his wife Margaret. There can be no reason why he should forget his own wife's name, and call her Nell instead of Margaret. As the change of a single letter sets all right, I am willing to suppose it came from his pen thus: I thank thee. Well, these words content me much. Theobald. It has been observed by two or three commentators, that it is no way extraordinary the King should forget his wife's name, as it appears in no less than three places that she forgets it herself, calling herself Eleanor. It has also been said, that, if any contraction of the real name is used, it should be Meg. All this is very true; but as an alteration must be made, Theobald's is just as good, and as probable, as any other. I have therefore retained it, and wish it could have been done with propriety without a note. Reed.

Though the King could not well forget his wife's name, either Shakspeare or the transcriber might. That Nell is not a mistake