Prince. That Julius Cæfar was a famous man
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit fet down to make his valour live:
Death makes no conqueft of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
I'll tell you what, my coufin Buckingham.

"the fables of their gods by moral verities; a fentiment wonderfully "well adapted to the character of Richard, who must be fuppos'd "here to fpeak ironically and to this effect. You men of morals, who fo much extol your formal wife antiquity, in what am I inferior to it, "which was but an equivocator as I am, and could moralize two "meanings in one word ?"

I come now to the explanation of the text, as it is exhibited in the printed copies. By vice, perhaps the author may mean not a quality but a perfon. There was hardly an old play, till the period of the reformation, which had not in it a devil, and a drole character, a jefter; (who was to play upon, and work, the devil;) and this buffoon went by the name of vice. A vice in a play, badin, mime; to play the vice, badiner; mime, a vice, fool, jefter, &c. in a play; fays Cotgrave. Mimo, (mimus) a jefter, a vice; fays Minshew in his Spanish dictionary. If it be worth the while to spend a word or two upon derivation, we are told, this vice comes from the Saxon word Ieck, which comes from the Greek sixa, vanus fatuus. I confefs, I think, we may go a nearer way to work. This vice, in my mind, comes from the Greek original: for, adding the Eolic digamma to sixa, (fcil. Favar) and then throwing out the termination, vice is very nearly produced. But to pass over from etimology. This buffoon was at first accoutred with a long jerkin, a cap with a pair of afs's ears, and a wooden dagger, with which (like another harlequin) he was to make sport in belabouring the devil. This was the conftant entertainment in the times of popery, whilst fpirits, and witchcraft, and exorcifing held their own. When the reformation took place, the ftage fhook off fome groffities, and encreas'd in refinements. The mafter-devil then was foon difmiffed from the fcene; and this buffoon was chang'd into a fubordinate fiend, whose business was to range on earth, and feduce poor mortals into that perfonated vicious quality, which he occafionally fupported; as, iniquity in general, bypocrify, ufury, vanity, prodigality, gluttony, &c. Now as the fiend, (or vice) who perfonated iniquity (or hypocrify, for inftance) could never hope to play his game to the purpose but by hiding his cloven foot, and affuming a femblance quite different from his real character; he muft certainly put on a formal demeanour, moralize, and prevaricate in his words, and pretend a meaning directly oppofite to his genuine and primitive intention. If this does not explain the paffage in queftion, 'tis all that I can at prefent fuggeft upon it.- -Sub judice lis eft; I relinquish it to more able judgments,

Buck.

Buck. What, my gracious Lord ?

Prince. An if I live until I be a man, I'll win our ancient right in France again, Or die a foldier, as I liv'd a King.

Glo. Short fummer lightly has a forward fpring.

Enter York, Haftings, and Archbishop.

Buck. Now in good time here comes the Duke of York.
Prince. Richard of York, how fares our noble brother?
York. Well, my dread Lord, fo muft I call you now.
Prince. Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours;
Too late he dy'd that might have kept that title,
Which by his death hath loft much Majefty.

Glo. How fares our coufin, noble Lord of York?
York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O my Lord,
You faid, that idle weeds are fast in growth:
The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
Glo. He hath, my Lord.

York. And therefore is he idle?

Glo. O, my fair coufin, I must not say so.
York. Then he is more beholden to you than I.
Glo. He may command me as my Sovereign,
But
you have pow'r in me, as in a kinfman.

York. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.
Glo. My dagger, little coufin? with all my heart.
Prince. A beggar, brother?

York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give;
And being a toy, it is no grief to give.

Glo. A greater gift than that I'll give my coufin. York. A greater gift? O, that's the fword to it. Glo. Ay, gentle coufin, were it light enough. York. O, then I fee, you'll part but with light gifts; In weightier things you'll fay a beggar nay. Glo. It is too weighty for your Grace to wear. York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

Glo. What, would you have my weapon, little Lord? York. I would, that I might thank you, as you call me.

Glo. How?

York. Little.

Prince. My Lord of York will ftill be cross in talk:

Uncle,

Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him.
York, You mean to bear me, not to bear with me:
Uncle, myt brother mocks both you and me :
Because that I am little, like an ape,

He thinks, that you should bear me on your fhoulders.
Buck. With what a fharp-provided wit he reasons !
To mitigate the fcorn he gives his uncle,

He prettily and aptly taunts himself;

So cunning, and fo young, is wonderful.
Glo. My Lord, will't pleafe you pafs along?
Myfelf, and my good cousin Buckingham
Will to your mother, to entreat of her
To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.

York. What, will you go unto the Tower, my Lord?
Prince. My Lord Protector needs will have it fo.
York. I fhall not fleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why,, what fhould you fear?

York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghoft:
My grandam told me, he was murder'd there.
Prince. I fear no uncles dead.

Glo. Nor none that live, I hope.

Prince. An if they live, I hope, I need not fear. But come, my Lord, and with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Torver.

[Exeunt Prince, York, Haftings and Dorfet. Manent Glocester, Buckingham and Catesby. Buck. Think you, my Lord, this little prating York Was not incenfed by his fubtle mother,

To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?

Glo. No doubt, no doubt: oh, 'tis a per'lous boy, Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;

He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.

Buck. Well, let them reft: come, Catesby, thou art fworn As deeply to effect what we intend,

As closely to conceal what we impart:

Thou know'it our reasons urg'd upon the way;
What think't thou? is it not an easy matter
To make Lord William Haftings of our mind,
For the inftalment of this noble Duke

VOL. V.

L

In .

In the feat royal of this famous ifle ?

Catef. He for his father's fake fo loves the Prince, That he will not be won to aught against him. Buck. What think'st thou then of Stanley? will not he? Catef. He will do all in all as Haftings doth.

Buck. Well then, no more than this: go, gentle Catefty,
And, as it were far off, found thou lord Haftings,
How he doth stand affected to our purpose ;
And fummon him to-morrow to the Tower,
To fit about the coronation.

If thou doft find him tractable to us,
Encourage him, and tell him all our reafons:
If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling,
Be thou fo too; and fo break off the talk,
And give us notice of his inclination :
For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
Wherein thyself fhalt highly be employ'd.

Glo. Commend me to Lord William; tell him, Catesby,
His ancient knot of dangerous adverfaries
To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret-castle;
And bid my friend, for joy of this good news,
Give mistress Shore one gentle kifs the more.

Buck. Good Catesby, go, effect this bufinefs foundly. Catef. My good Lords both, with all the heed I can. Glo. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we fleep? Catef. You fhall, my Lord.

Glo. At Crosby-place, there you fhall find us both. [Exit Catesby. Buck. My Lord, what shall we do, if we perceive, Lord Haftings will not yield to our complots?

Glo. Chop off his head, man; fomewhat we will do ;
And look, when I am King, claim thou of me
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables
Whereof the King, my brother, food poffeft.

Buck. I'll claim that promife at your Grace's hand.
Glo. And look to have it yielded with all kindness.
Come, let us fup betimes; that, afterwards,
We may digeft our complots in fome form.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, before Lord Haflings's Houfe.

Enter a Meffenger to the door of Haftings.

Y Lord, my Lord,

MM Haft. [within.] Who knocks?

Mef. One from Lord Stanley.
Haft. What is't o'clock ?

Mef. Upon the stroke of four.

Enter Lord Haftings.

Haft. Cannot thy mafter fleep thefe tedious nights?
Mef. So it appears, by what I have to fay :
Firft, he commends him to your noble self.
Haft. What then ?

Mef. Then certifies your Lordship, that this night
He dreamt, the boar had raised off his helm:
Befides, he fays, there are two councils held;
And that may be determin'd at the one,

Which

you

make
may
and him to rue at t' other.
Therefore he fends to know your Lordship's pleasure,
If you will prefently take horfe with him,"

And with all speed poft with him tow'rds the north;
To fhun the danger that his foul divines.

Haft. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy Lord,
Bid him not fear the feparated councils :
His Honour, and myfelf, are at the one;
And, at the other, is my good friend Catesby;
Where nothing can proceed, that toucheth us,
Whereof I shall not have intelligence:

Tell him, his fears are fhallow, wanting inftance;
And for his dreams, I wonder, he's fo fond
To truft the mock'ry of unquiet flumbers.
To fly the boar, before the boar pursues,
Were to incenfe the boar to follow us ;
And make purfuit, where he did mean no chase,
Go, bid thy mafter rise and come to me,
And we will both together to the Tower,
Where, he fhall fee, the boar will ufe us kindly.
Mef. I'll go, my Lord, and tell him what you fay. [Exità

L 2

Enter