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Queen. Twill make me think, the world is full of

rubs,

And that my fortune runs against the bias.

Lady. Madam, we'll dance.

Queen. My legs can keep no meafure in delight,
When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief.
Therefore no dancing, girl; fome other sport.
Lady. Madam, we will tell tales.
Queen. Of forrow, or of joy?
Lady. Of either, madam.

Queen. Of neither, girl:

For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
It doth remember me the more of forrow;
Or if of grief, being altogether had,
It adds more forrow to my want of joy.
For what I have, I need not to repeat;
And what I want, it boots not to complain.
Lady. Madam, I'll fing.

Queen. 'Tis well that thou haft caufe;

But thou fhould'ft please me better, would't thou

weep.

Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good. Queen. 7 And I could weep, would weeping do me good,

And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the gardeners.
Let's ftep into the fhadow of thefe trees.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins,

Enter a gardener, and two fervants.

They'll talk of ftate; for every one doth fo,
Against a change: woe is fore-run with woe.

6

[Queen and ladies retire.

Of forrow, or of joy ? All the old copies concur in reading, Of forrow, or of grief. Mr. Pope made the neceffary al

teration. STEEVENS.

8

And I could weep,-] The old copics read, And I could firg.

STEEVENS.

Against a change: woe is fare-run with wo E.] But what was there in the gardener's talking of flate, for matter of fo much

M 4

oe ?

Gard. Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricots,
Which, like unruly children, make their fire
Stoop with oppreffion of their prodigal weight:
Give fome fupportance to the bending twigs.-
Go thou, and, like an executioner,

Cut off the heads of too-faft-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth :
All must be even in our government.—
You thus imploy'd, I will go root away
The noifome weeds, that without profit fuck
The foil's fertility from wholefome flowers.
Serv. Why fhould we, in the compafs of a pale,
Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
Shewing, as in a model, 9 our firm ftate;

woe? Befides this is intended for a sentence, but proves a very fimple one. I fuppofe Shakespeare wrote,

woe is fore-run with MOCKS,

which has fome meaning in it; and fignifies, that when great men are on the decline, their inferiors take advantage of their condition, and treat them without ceremony. And this we find to be the cafe in the following fcene. But the editors were feeking for a rhime. Though had they not been fo impatient they would have found it gingled to what followed, though it did not to what went before. WARBURTON.

There is no need of any emendation. The poet, according to the common doctrine of prognoftication, fuppofes dejection to forerun calamity, and a kingdom to be filled with rumours of forrow when any great difafler is impending. The fenfe is, that public evils are always prefignified by public penfiveness, and plaintive converfation. The conceit of rhyming mocks with apricocks, which I hope Shakespeare knew better how to fpell, fhews that the commentator was refolved not to let his conjecture fall for want of any fupport that he could give it. JOHNS. OUR firm ftate?] How could he fay ours when he immediately fubjoins, that it was infirm? We thould read,

9

A firm ftate. WARBURTON.

The fervant fays our, meaning the fate of the garden they are at work in. The fate of the metaphorical garden was indeed unfirm, and therefore his reafoning is very naturally induced. Why (fays he) fhould we be careful to preferve order in the narrow cinet re of this our fate, when the great state of the kingdom is in diforder? I have replaced the old reading which Dr, Warburton would have difcontinued in favour of his own conjecture. STEEVENS.

When

When our fea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds; her faireft flowers choak'd up,
Her fruit-trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?

Gard. Hold thy peace.

He, that hath fuffer'd this diforder'd spring,
Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf:
The weeds, that his broad fpreading leaves did fhelter,
That feem'd, in eating him, to hold him up,
Are pull'd up, root and all, by Bolingbroke;
I mean, the earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
Serv. What, are they dead?

Gard. They are, and Bolingbroke

Hath feiz'd the wafteful king.-What pity is it,
That he had not so trimm'd and drefs'd his land,
As we this garden, who at times of year

Do wound the bark, the skin, of our fruit-trees;
Left, being over-proud with fap and blood,
With too much riches it confound itfelf:
Had he done fo to great and growing men,
They might have liv'd to bear, and he to tafte
Their fruits of duty. All fuperfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughs may live:
Had he done fo, himfelf had borne the crown,
Which waste and idle hours hath quite thrown down.
Serv. What, think you then,' the king will be de-
pos'd?

Gard. Deprefs'd he is already; and depos'd,
'Tis doubted, he will be. Letters came last night
To a dear friend of the good duke of York,
That tell black tidings.

Queen. Oh, I am prefs'd to death, through want of fpeaking! [Coming from her concealment. Thou old Adam's likenefs, fet to drefs this garden, How dares thy harsh tongue found this unpleafing news?

What Eve, what ferpent hath fuggefted thee,
To make a fecond fail of curfed man?

1

Why

Why doft thou fay, king Richard is depos'd?
Dar'ft thou, thou little better thing than earth,
Divine his downfal? Say, where, when, and how
Cam'st thou by thefe ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch.
Gard. Pardon me, madam. Little joy have I
To breathe thefe news, yet what I fay is true.
King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd:
In your lord's fcale is nothing but himself,
And fome few vanities that make him light;
But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
Befides himfelf, are all the English peers,
And with that odds he weighs king Richard down.-
Poft you to London, and you'll find it fo;
I fpeak no more than every one doth know.

Queen. Nimble mischance, that art fo light of foot, Doth not thy embaffage belong to me?

And am I laft, that know it? oh, thou think's
To ferve me laft, that I may longeft keep
Thy forrow in my breaft.-Come, ladies, go;
To meet, at London, London's king in woe.-
What, was I born to this! that my fad look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke!
Gardener, for telling me thefe news of woe,

I

I would, the plants thou graft'it may never grow.
[Exeunt queen and ladies.
Gard. Poor queen! fo that thy state might be no worse,
I would my skill were fubject to thy curfe.-
Here did the drop a tear; here, in this place,
I'll fet a bank of rue, four herb of grace:
Rue, even for ruth, here fhortly fhall be feen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

[Exeunt gard. and ferv.

I would, the plants, &c.] This execration of the queen is fomewhat ludicrous, and unfuitable to her condition; the gardener's reflection is better adapted to the ftate both of his mind and his fortune. Mr. Pope, who has been throughout this play very diligent to reject what he did not like, has yet, I know not why, fpared the laft lines of this act. JOHNSON.

ACT

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

London. The parliament-boufe.

Enter Bolingbroke, Aumerle, Northumberland, Percy, Fitzwater, Surry, bishop of Carlisle, abbot of Weftminster, herald, officers, and Bagot.

CA

BOLINGBROKE.

ALL Bagot forth: now freely speak thy mind; What thou doft know of noble Glofter's death; Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd The bloody office of his timeless end.

Bagot. Then fet before my face the lord Aumerle.
Boling. Coufin, ftand forth, and look upon that man.
Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring
tongue

Scorns to unfay what it hath once deliver❜d.
In that dead time when Glofter's death was plotted,
I heard you fay, "Is not my arm of length,
"That reacheth from the reftful English court
"As far as Calais, to my uncle's head ?"
Amongst much other talk that very time,
I heard you fay,, " You rather had refuse
"The offer of an hundred thousand crowns,
"Than Bolingbroke return to England;

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Adding withal how bleft this land would be, "In this your coufin's death."

Aum. Princes, and noble lords,

What anfwer fhall I make to this bafe man?
Shall I fo much dishonour 3

2

3

my

fair stars,

bis timeless end.] Timeless for untimely. WARB. my fair STARS,] I rather think it should be STEM,

being of the royal blood. WARBURTON.

I think the prefent reading unexceptionable. The birth is fuppofed to be influenced by the stars, therefore our author, with his ufual licence, takes fars for birth. JOHNSON.

We

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