I have continued this speech, for eight lines further than my preface to it required; but I thought the whole fpirit and language of it too fine, to fuffer it to be mangled by ftopping fhort. Besides, this latter part of it fhews that extravagance of defpair and rage to which grief, refentment, and misfortune are apt to drive a perfon, whofe mind is not happily tempered by philofophy, or restrained by religion.

See the second remark, with the paffage it 'refers to, in the First Scene of A&t the Fourth of the preceding Play, as it will fave me the trouble of making a new obfervation here, or of repeating the fame again, as applicable to the following fpeech: Morton. My lord, your fon had only but the corpíe, 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 queafiness constrained, As men drink potions; that their weapons only Seemed on our fide; but for their spirits and fouls, This word, Rebellion, it had froze them up, As fish are in a pond.

SCENE VI.

There is a moft difgufting picture, but a too hiftorically just one, given, in this place, of the unftable and fluctuating affections of the multitudeNo popularity can be permanent, which is not earned by virtue, and preferved by perfeverance in it. The Public is a Weather-Cock; it continues fteady only while the wind remains fo; when that fhifts, the vane turns aifo.

York. Let us on;

And publish the occafion of our arms.

The Common-wealth is fick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath furfeited.

An habitation giddy and unfure

Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.

O, thou fond Many! with what loud applaufe

Did'st thou beat heaven with bleffing Bolinbroke,
Before he was what thou would'st have him be?
And now, being trimmed up in thine own defires,
Thou, beaftly feeder, art fo full of him,
That thou provokeft thyfelf to caft him up.
So, fo, thou common dog, didft thou difgorge
Thy glutton bofom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldft eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'ft to find it. What truft is in these times!
They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,
Are now become enamoured of his grave;
Thou that threw duft upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came fighing on,
After the admired heels of Bolinbroke,

Crieft now, O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this. O thoughts of men accurft!
Paft and to come feem beft ; things present worst.

ACT II. SCENE IV.

The extravagant and fuperftitious notions of the vulgar, in former times, with regard to kings and heroes, though not really fuppofed in this Scene, are, however, very humorously ridiculed in it.

The Prince and Poins.

Prince. Truft me, I am exceeding weary.

Poins. And is it come to that? I had thought that weariness durft not have attacked one of so high blood.

Prince. It doth me, though it difcolours the complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not fhew vilely in me, now, to defire small beer?

Poins. Why, a Prince fhould not be fo loosely ftudied, as to remember fo weak a compofition.

Prince. Belike then, my appetite was not princely got; for, in troth, I do now remember the poor creature, fmall beer. But, indeed, thefe humble confiderations make me out of love with my greatness. What a difgrace is it in me, now, to remember thy name? or to know thy face, to-morrow? or to take note how many pair of filk stockings thou haft? Videlicet; "these, and those that were once the peach-coloured ones or to bear the inventory of thy fhirts; as one for use, and another for fuperfluity.

That common difpofition of vaunting ourselves above others, fo natural to mankind, that some writer

ftiles it a mint at every one's tongue's end, to coin their own praife, is well marked in the latter part of this Scene. But I fhall commence the dialogue a little earlier than may be just neceffary to this reference, in order to treat my reader with a beautiful trait in the Prince's character, who is made to preserve his virtue untainted, in the midst of all his debauchery and diffipation.

Poins, being piqued at the Prince's having exposed the shabbiness of his wardrobe, replies:

Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you fhould talk fo idly? Tell me how many good young princes would do so, their fathers lying fo fick as yours at this time is ?

Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins ♪

Poins. Yes, and let it be an excellent good thing.

Prince. It fhall ferve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.

Poins. Go to; I ftand the push of your one thing that you'll tell.

Prince. Why, I tell thee, it is not meet that I fhould be fad, now my father is fick; albeit, I could tell thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better to call my friend, I could be fad, and very fad, indeed, too.

Poins. Very hardly, upon fuch a subject.

Prince. By this hand, thou think'ft me as far in the Devil's book as thou and Falftaff, for obduracy and perfiftency. Let the end try the man. But, I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is fo fick; and keeping fuch vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all oftentation of forrow.

Poins. The reason ?

Prince. What would'st thou think of me, if I should weep?
Poins. I would think thee a moft princely hypocrite.

Prince. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed fellow, to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought in the world, keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would think me an hypocrite, indeed. And what excites your most worfhipful thought to think fo?

Poins. Why, because you have feemed fo lewd, and so much ingrafted to Falftaff.

Prince. And to thee.

Poins. Nay, by this light, I am well spoken of; I can hear it with my own cars. The worst they can fay of me, is, that I am

a fecond

a fecond brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands* ; and thofe two things, I confefs, I cannot help.

The delicacy of the Prince's difficulty upon this occafion, in not being able to manifeft the concern he was really fenfible of for his father's illness, left, from the former complexion of his life and manners, he might be fufpected of infincerity in fuch profeffions, must have a fine effect on the fentiment of a reader who is poffeffed of the leaft refinement of principle or virtue.

A most useful leffon might be framed, upon the very fingular character of this amiable perfon. The pattern is not perfect; and therefore-fhall I venture to fay it? the example is the better, for that reason. His manners are idle, but his morals uncorrupt. He fuffers Falstaff to make as free with him as he pleases, but breaks his head, as Mrs. Quickly tells us in a former Scene, for his having thrown out a jeft upon his father. Young men may learn from him never to be guilty of more vice, than the temptation to it might precipitate them into. He connives at the robbery of his companions, for the diverfion of playing the fame game upon them, again; but refolves to make ample restitution for the wrong t. He offends his father by the diffolutenefs of his conduct, but his filial affection and respect are ftill unremitted towards him. He fhews a spirit of justice in injuftice, and of duty, even in difobedience.

I here offer this comment as a fupplement to the character I have already drawn of this Prince, at the end of the former Play. I could not have fairly added it there, as any thing that did not immediately relate to the comparifon between him and Hotfpur, would have been improperly introduced in the Parallel.

This was an expreffion, in thofe times, for a perfon forward in fighting.
See the last Scene of Act II. in the first part of this Play.

SCENE

SCENE V.

The vanity with which men are apt to plume themselves, with regard to titles of honour to which they can claim no merit, in themselves, is humorously ridiculed here by Poins, in his notes on Falftaff's letter to the Prince, which is given him to Poins, reading.

read.

John Falfaff, Knight. Every man muft know that, as often as he hath occafion to name himself; even like thofe that are a-kin to the king, for they never prick their finger, but they cry, there is fome of the king's blood fpilt-How comes that? fays he that takes upon him not to conceive it. The answer is as ready, as a bor rower's cap-I am the king's poor coufin, Sir.

Prince. Nay, they will be a-kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet.

SCENE VI.

The fervile adulation ufually paid to great or diftinguished perfons, even to an imitation of their very defects, and which Alexander properly reprehended, by giving a box on the ear to one of his courtiers who had mimicked the wrynefs of his neck, is well represented here:

Lady Percy, speaking of Hotfpur,

He was, indeed, the glass,

Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.

He had no legs, that practifed not his gait ;

And fpeaking thick †, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the would-be valiant;

For thofe that could fpeak low and tardily,

Would turn their own perfection to abufe,

To feem like him. So that, in fpeech, and gait,

In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark, and glass, copy and book,
That fashioned others.

Always cap in band to his creditor.

tight we not venture to fubftitute the word quick, in this paffage, as being better opposed to the defcription in the second line following of low and tardilyThofe who fpeak quick, generally speak loud alfo; which compleats the oppofi

tion.