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With others, than with him. Let them alone:
The marshal and the archbishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To day might I (hanging on Hotspur's neck)
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

Juftice Shallow is an admirably well drawn comic character, but he never appears better, than by reflection in the mirror of Falstaffe's wit, in whofe defcriptionshe is most strongly exhibited. It is faid by fome, that the juftice was meant for a particular gentleman who had profecuted the author for deer-stealing, I know not whether that story be well grounded. The Shallows are to be found every where, in every age, but those who have least character of their own, are most formed and modified by the fashion of the times, and their peculiar profeffion or calling. So though we often meet with a resemblance to this juftice, we shall never find an exact parallel to him now manners are so much changed.-The fuperior danger of a rebellion fanctified by the church, cannot by hiftorians or philofophers be better

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fet forth than by the following words of

Morton :

MORTON.

་་་

The gentle Archbishop 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 fhadows, 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 spirits and fouls,
This word, rebellion, it had froze them up,
But now, the bifhop

Turns infurrection to religion;

Suppos'd fincere and holy in his thoughts,

He's follow'd both with body and wich 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 bestride a bleeding land
Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke,

And more, and lefs, do flock to follow him.

Nor

Nor can the indecency of a prelate's appearing in arms, and the abuse of an authority derived from the facred function, be more strongly arraigned, than in the fpeeches of Weftmorland, and John of Lancafter.

WESTMORLAND.

Then, my lord,

Unto your grace do I in chief addrefs

The fubftance of my speech. If that rebellion
Came like itself, in bafe and abject routs,
Led on by bloody youth, goaded with rage,
And countenanc'd by boys and beggary;
I fay, if damn'd commotion fo appear'd
In his true, native, and most proper shape,
You, reverend father, and these noble lords,
Had not been here to drefs the ugly form
Of bafe and bloody infurrection

With your fair honours. You, my lord archbishop,

Whofe fee is by a civil peace maintain'd,

Whose beard the filver hand of peace hath touch'd Whofe learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd,

Whofe white investments figure innocence,

The dove and very bleffed fpirit of peace;

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Wherefore do you fo ill tranflate yourself,

Out of the fpeech of peace, that bears fuch grace,
Into the harsh and boift'rous tongue of war?

LANCASTER.

My lord of York, it better fhew'd with you,
When that your flock, affembled by the bell,
Encircled you, to hear with reverence
Your expofition on the holý text;

Than now to fee you here, an iron man,
Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to fword, and life to death.
That man that fits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the fun-fhine of his favour,
Would he abuse the count'nance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he fet abroach,

In fhadow of fuch greatnefs? With you, lord bishop,
It is ev'n fo. Who hath not heard it spoken,
How deep you were within the books of heav'n?

To us, the fpeaker in his parliament,

To us, th' imagin'd voice of heav'n itself,

The very opener and intelligencer

Between the grace, the fanctities of heav'n,
And our dull workings: O, who fhall believe
But you mifufe the rev'rence of your place,

Employ

Employ the countenance and grace of heav'n,
As a falfe favourite doth his prince's name,

In deeds difhonourable? You've taken up,
Under the counterfeited zeal of God,

The fubjects of his fubftitute, my father;

And both against the peace of heav'n and him
Have here up-fwarm'd them.

The archbishop of York, even when he appears an iron man, keeps up the gravity and feeming fanctity of his character, and wears the mitre over his helmet. He is not like Hotspur, or a valiant rebel, full of noble anger and fierce defiance, he speaks like a cool politician to his friends, and like a deep defigning hypocrite to his enemies, and pretends he is only acting as physician to the ftate.

I have before obferved that Shakespear had the talents of an orator as much as of a poet; and I believe it will be allowed the speeches of Westmorland and Lancaster are as proper on this occafion, and the particular circumstances are as happily touch'd, as

they

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