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Or a dry-wheel grate on the axle-tree,
And that would nothing set my teeth on edge,
Nothing fo much as mincing-poetry ;
'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.
Punctuality in Bargain.
I'll give thrice so much land,
To any well-deserving friend;
But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
A Husband sung to Sleep by a fair Wife.
(8) She bids you
All on the wanton rushes lay you down,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And the will fing the song that pleaseth you,
And all the judgments of the angry gods
Are not avoided more by men of sense,
Than poetaster's in their raging fits.
'Tis hard to say, whether for sacrilege,
Or incest, or some more unheard of crime,
The rhyming fiend is sent into thefe men :
But they are almost visibly pollest,
And like a bated bear, when he breaks loose,
Without distinction, seize on all they meet :
Learn’d or unlearn’d, none 'scape within their reach ;
(Sticking like leeches, till they burst with blood,)
Without remorfe insatiably they read,
And never leave 'till they have read men dead.
(3) She bids, &c.] There is something extremely tender and pleasing in these lines, as well as in the following, from Philaster; which juftly deserve to be compared with them :
Who shall now tell you
How much I lov'd you? who shall swear it to you,
And weep the tears I send ? who shall now bring you
Letters, rings, bracelets, lose his health in service ?
And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heavinels;
Making fuch diffrence betwixt wake and ficep,
(9) As is the diff'rence betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
Begins his golden progress in the east.
SCENE IV. King Henry the 4th to his Son..
Had I fo lavish of my presence been,
So common hackney'd in the eyes of men,
So itale and cheap to vulgar company;
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to pofleffion;
Wake tedious nights in stories of your praise ?
Who now shall ling you crying elegies,
And strike a sad soul into senseless pictures,
And make them mourn? who shall take up
And touch it, till he crown a silent sleep
Upon my eye-lid, making me dream and cry,
Oh my dear, dear Philafter.-
latter end. () As is, &c.] It is remarkable of Milton, that whenever he can have an opportunity, he takes particular notice of the evening twilight, but I don't at present recollect any passage where he describes this morning-twilight, which Shakespear so beau-tifully hints at : nothing can exceed this lovely description in the 4h book of his Paradise Loft.
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad :
Silence accompanied : for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their neft
Were fiunk: all but the wakeful nightingale ;
She all night long her amorous defcant sung :
Silence was pleas'd; now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires : Hesperies, that led.
The starry hoft, - rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. The reader will be agreeably entertained, by consulting the pallage in Dr. Newtor's edition of Aliltor.
And left me in reputeless banishment,
fellow of no inark, nor likelihood.
But being seldom seen, I could not stir,
But, like a comet, I was wonder'd at !
(10) That men would tell their children, “ This is he."
Others would say, “ Where? which is Bolingbroke ?"
And then I stole all courtesy from heav'n,
And drett myself in much humility,
That I did pluck allegiance from mens' hearts,
Loud shouts and falutations from their inouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
My presence like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at: and fo my state,
Seldom, but fumptuous, shewed like a feast,
And won, by rareness such folemnity:
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled, and soon burnt: (11) 'scarded his state :
Mingled his royalty with carping fools:
Had his great name profaned with their scorns ;
gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh with gybing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless, vain comparative:
Grew a companion to the cominon streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:
That being daily swallow'd by mens' eyes,
They surfeited with honey, and began
To loath the taste of sweetness : whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So (10) That be, &c.] At pulchrum of digito monflrarier, & dicier bic cf. Persius.
Oh it is brave to be admired, to see
The crowd with pointing fingers cry, “ That's ne.”
(11) 'Scarded, &c.] i. l. discarded, threw off. This read. -
ing is Mr. Iarturlon's: the old one is carded: this elision is not
unufual with the poets ; frequently amongst the oldes ones we
Jave 'Idein for difdain, &c.
So when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckow is in June,
Heard, not regarded: seen, but with such eyes,
As fick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze ;
Such as is bent on fun-fike majesty,
When it shines seldom in adıniring eyes :
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down,
Slept in his face, and render'd such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full.
Prince Henry's modest Defence of himself. -Heav'n forgive them that fo much have fivay'd Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me! I will redeein all this on Percy's head: And in the closing of some glorious day, Be bold to tell you, that I am your
fon. When I will wear a garment all of blood, And stain
favours in a bloody mask, Which, wash'd
away, shall fcower my shame with it. And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, That this fame child of honour and renown, This gallant Hot-spur, this all-praised knight, And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet; For every honour fitting on his helin, Would they were multitudes, and on my head My shanes redoubled! for the time will come, That I shall make this northern youth exchange His glorious deeds for my indignities. Percy is but my factor, good my lord, T'ingross up glorious deeds on my behalf; And I will call him to so strict account, That he shall render every glory up, Yea, even the flightest worship of his time; Or I will tear the reck’ning from his heart. This, in the naine of heav'n, I promise here: The which, if I perform, and do survive,
I do beseech your Majesty, may falve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperature...
If not, the end of life cancels all bonds;
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths,
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
I fuv young Harry with his beaver on, (12),
His cuitles on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,
Rise froin the ground like feather'd Mercury ;:
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropt down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship,
Hotspur's Impatience for the Battles.
Let them come
They come like facrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoaky war,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them..
The mailed Mars shall on his altar fit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire, ,
To hear this rich reprifal is so nigh,
And yet not ours. Come, let me take my horse,
Who is to bear me, like a thunder-bolt,
Against the bofom of the Prince of Wales !
Harry to Harry shall not horse to horse)
Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a coarse.
Oh, that Glendower were come!.
(12) 01.] Others read up; and there seems great probability in it.