(2) My piked man of countries;-my dear Sir, And talking of the Alps and Apennines, It draws towards fupper in conclufion, fo. And fits the mountain fpirit like myself: ACT II. SCENE I. A Defcription of England, (3) That pale, that white-fac'd shore, Whofe foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides, And (2) My piked.] Mr. Pope explains this by a Man formally bearded." The old copies (fays Theobald) give it us picked, by a flight corruption in the fpelling; but the author certainly defign'd piqued (from the French verb, je pique) i. e. touchy, tart, apprehenfive, upon his guard." A fenfe, (that perhaps may feem ridiculous to fome readers, and which I by no means advance as true) ferikes me on reading the paffage. "Richard fays, the traveller and his tooth-pick shall be both at his table, and for my own part, (he goes on) when I have fufficed my knightly ftomach, then I fhall fit at my ease picking my teeth, and catechifing my picked man of countries, i. e. my traveller who has already picked his teeth, and does not take the liberty which I do, to loll on his elbow and pick his teeth, being fubfervient to my commands, and waiting for my catechifing him." In this fenfe picked is right in the old copies. (3) That, &c.] Shakespear, like a true lover of his country, has never omitted any opportunity to celebrate it or his country men, And coops from other lands her iflanders ; Defcription of an English Army. His marches are expedient to this town, men, Rath the Reader will find, befides the paffages in the prefent play, one in Richard II. A. 2. S. 1. and Cymbeline, A. 3. S 1. Spenfer too forgot not to pay due honours to his country in his Fairie Queene, but has given us one whole canto, which he entitles, A chronicle of Briton kings From Brute to Uther's raigne : Till time of Gloriane. B. 2. C. ro. Neither has Milton omitted to mention his country; in his admirable mask of Comus, he calls it -An ifle The greatest and the best of all the main ; And his countrymen, An old and haughty nation proud in arms. (4) With them, &c.] There is a flight error in the pointing here, which I the rather take notice of, as it runs thro' all the editions, and feems to have given the editors a wrong fenfe of the paffage; 'tis faid the king is come with the mother queen, With her, her niece the lady Blanch of Spain, With them a bastard of the king deceas'd, I think Rafh, inconfiderate, fiery voluntaries, Courage. By how much unexpected, by fo much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occafion. SCENE II. A Boafter. What cracker is this fame, that deafs our ears With this abundance of fuperfluous breath? SCENE IV. Defcription of Victory, by the French. You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, While I think there is no doubt, the femicola fhould be after the baftard of the king deceas'd; then he adds, and all the unfettled humours of the land, rafh, &c. have fold, &c." Scathe in the laft line but two, fignifies damage, hurt, mifchief, derived from a Saxon word: Skinner fays, it is yet ufed in Lincolnyhire, which it might have been in his time, and probably may be now, tho' I don't recollect ever to have heard it. While victory with little lofs doth play By the English. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells, King John, your king, and England's, doth approach, Commander of this hot, malicious day: Their armours that march'd hence, fo filver bright, Our colours do return in those fame hands SCENE V. A compleat Lady. If lufty love should go in queft of beauty, With that fame purpofe-changer, that fly devil, Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that The world, which of itself is poised well, This This fway of motion, this commodity, Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me, Opprefs'd with wrongs, and therefore full of tears; And tho' thou now confefs thou didst but jest, Tokens of Grief. (5) What doft thou mean by fhaking of thy head? Why doft thou look fo fadly on my fon? What means that hand upon that breast of thine? (5) What, &c.] So Seneca in his Oedipus, says, Effari dubitas? cur genas mutat color? Quid verba quæris? And in his Agamemnon, Again, Quid tacita verfas, Licet ipfa fileas, totus in vultu dolor efl. Like Why doft thou fear to speak? Why on thy checks What fecret forrows roll within thy breast, |