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Thomas of Norfolk, what fay'st thou to this?
Mowb. O, let my Sovereign turn away his face, And bid his ears a little while be deaf, Till I have told this Slander of his blood, How God and good men hate fo foul a liar.
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. Were he our brother, nay, our Kingdom's heir, As he is but our father's brother's fon; Now by ’ my Scepter's awe, I make a vow, Such neighbour-nearness to our sacred blood Should nothing priv’lege him, nor partialize Th' unstooping firmness of my upright soul. He is our Subject, Morubray, so art thou ; Free speech, and fearless, I to thee allow.
Mowb. Then, Boling broke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest! Three parts of that Receipt I had for Calais, Disburst I to his Highness' soldiers ; The other part referv'd I by confent, For that my sovereign Leige was in my debt ; Upon remainder of a dear account, Since last I went to France to fetch his Queen. Now, swallow down that Lie.-For Gloucester's death, I New him not; but, to mine own disgrace, Neglected my sworn duty in that case. For you, my noble lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay an ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul ; But ere I last receiv’d the Sacrament, I did confess it, and exactly begg’d Your Grace's pardon; and, I hope, I had it. This is my fault; as for the rest appealid, It issues from the rancor of a villain, A recreant and most degen’rate traitor ; Which in my self I boldly will defend,
3 My Scepter's awe.]
The reverence due to my Scepter.
And interchangeably hurl down my gage
K. Rich. Wrath-kindled Gentlemen, be rul'd by me; Let's purge
this Choler without letting blood : + This we prescribe, though no physician ; Deep malice makes too deep incision : Forget, forgive, conclude and be agreed ; Our Doctors say, this is no time to bleed. Good Uncle, let this end where it begun; We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your Son.
Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age ; Throw down, my Son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his.
Gaunt. When, Harry? when Obedience bids, I should not bid again. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no
boot. * Mowb. My self I throw, dread Sovereign, at thy
4 This we proferibe, though no too, the rhyming verses are of a physician, &c. ) I mult make much better taste than all the one Remark, in general, on the others, which rather strengthens Rhymes throughout this whole my conje&ure.
Pope. play ; they are so much inferior * No boot.] That is, no adto the rest of the writing, that vanta e, no use, in delay or rethey appear to me of a different fulal. hand. What confirms this, is, 5 My fair Name, &c.] That is, that the context does every My name that lives on my grave in where exactly (and frequently delight of death. This easy parmuch better) connect without fage most of the Editors seem to the inserted rhymes, except in a have mistaken. very few places; and just there
Pierc'd to the soul with Nander's venom'd spear :
K. Ricb. Rage must be withstood.
Mowb. Yea, but not change their spots. Take bur
And I resign my gage. My dear, dear Lord,
begin. Boling. Oh, heav'n defend my soul from such foul sin! Shall I seem crest-fall’n in my father's sight, • Or with pale beggar face impeach my height, Before this out-dar'd Daftard ? Ere my tongue Shall wound my Honour with such feeble wrong, Or found so base a parle, my teeth shall tear 7 The slavish motive of recanting fear, And spit it bleeding, in his high disgrace, Where shame doth harbour, ev'n in Mowbray's face.
[Exit Gaunt. K. Rich. We were not born to fue, but to command, Which fince we cannot do to make you friends, Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, At Coventry upon Saint Lambert's day.
6 Or with pale beggar face-] 7 The flavish motive-] Moi.e. with a face of supplication. tive, for instrument. But this will not satisfy the Ox- Rather that which fear puts in ford Editor, he turns it to hag- motion. gard fear. WARBURTON.
There shall your Swords and Lances arbitrate
Changes to the Duke of Lancaster's Palace.
Enter Gaunt and Dutchess of Gloucester. Gaunt. Las ! * the part I had in Glo'ster's blood
Doch more follicit me, than your Ex
Dutch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
Made him a man ; and though thou liv'st and breath'st,
Gaunt. God's is the Quarrel ; for God's Substitute,
Dutch. Where then, alas, may I complain my self?
$ A cailiff recreant-] Cai- Ημισυ της αρτης αποαινυλαι δέλιον tif originally signified a prisoner;
ημαρ. next a Jave, from the condition In this passage it partakes of of prisoners; then a scoundrel, all these fignifications, from the qualities of a slave.