Pluck their hearts from them!-Not to-day, O Lord, take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers the opposed numbers. STEEVENS. The first folio reads-of The poet might intend, "Take from them the sense of reckoning those opposed numbers; which might pluck their courage from them." But the relative not being expressed, the sense is very obscure. The slight correction I have given [lest the opposed numbers-] makes it clear and easy. THEOBALD. The change is admitted by Dr. Warburton, and rightly. Sir T. Hanmer reads: the opposed numbers Which stand before them. This reading he borrowed from the old quarto, which gives the passage thus: Take from them now the sense of reckoning, That the opposed multitudes which stand before them Theobald's alteration certainly makes a very good sense; but, I think, we might read, with less deviation from the present text: if th' opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them. In conjectural criticism, as in mechanicks, the perfection of the art, I apprehend, consists in producing a given effect with the least possible force. TYRWHITT. I think Theobald's reading preferable to that of Tyrwhitt, which the editor has adopted; for if the opposed numbers did actually pluck their hearts from them, it was of no consequence whether they had or had not the sense of reckoning. M. MASON. The ingenious commentator seems to forget that, if the sense of reckoning, in consequence of the King's petition, was taken from them, the numbers opposed to them would be no longer formidable. When they could no more count their enemies, they could no longer fear them. It will be the lot of few criticks to retire with advantage gained over the remarks of my lamented friend, Mr. Tyrwhitt. STEEVENS. The old reading appears to be right. The King prays that his men may be unable to reckon the enemy's force, that their O not to-day, think not upon the fault. hearts (i. e. their sense and passions) may be taken from them: that they may be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make them. An explanation which seems to be countenanced by the old quarto. RITSON. In King John, edit. 1632, these words [if and of: See the preceding note by Mr. Tyrwhitt:] have again been confounded: "Lord of our presence, Angiers, and if you," instead of of you. The same mistake has, I think, happened also in Twelfth-Night, folio, 1623: "For, such as we are made if such we be.” where we should certainly read "For, such as we are made of, such we be." In the subsequent scene we have again the same thought. The Constable of France, after exhorting his countrymen to take horse, adds "Do but behold yon poor and starved band, "And your fair show shall suck away their souls, "Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.” In Hall's Chronicle, HENRY IV. fol. 23, we find a kindred expression to that in the text: " Henry encouraged his part so, that they took their hearts to them, and manly fought with their enemies." A passage in the speech which the same chronicler has put into Henry's mouth, before the battle of Agincourt, may also throw some light on that before us, and serve to support the emendation that has been made: "Therefore, putting your only trust in him, let not their multitude feare your heartes, nor their great number abate your courage." The passage stands thus in the quarto, 1600: Take from them now the sense of reckoning, That the opposed numbers which stand before them This fully refutes the notion of an anonymous Remarker, [Mr. Ritson,] who understands the word pluck as optative, and supposes that Henry calls on the God of battles to deprive his soldiers of their hearts; that is, of their courage, for such is evidently the meaning of the expression;-(so in the common phrase," have a good heart,"-and in the passage just quoted from Hall;) though this commentator chooses to understand by the word-sense and passions. Mr. Theobald, and some other commentators, seem, indeed, I Richard's body have interred new; And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears, to think that any word may be substituted for another, if thereby sense may be obtained; but a word ought rarely to be substituted in the room of another, unless either the emendation bears such an affinity to the corrupted reading, as that the error might have arisen from the mistake of the eye or ear of the compositor' or transcriber; or a word has been caught inadvertently by the compositor from a preceding or a subsequent line. MALONE. 7 Two chantries,] One of these monasteries was for Carthusian monks, and was called Bethlehem; the other was for religious men and women of the order of Saint Bridget, and was named Sion. They were on opposite sides of the Thames, and adjoined the royal manor of Sheen, now called Richmond. MALONE. • Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon.] We must observe, that Henry IV. had committed an injustice, of which he and his son reaped the fruits. But reason tells us, justice demands that they who share the profits of iniquity, shall share also in the punishment. Scripture again tells us, that when men have sinned, the grace of God gives frequent invitations to repentance: which, in the language of divines, are styled calls. These, if neglected, or carelessly dallied with, are, at length, irrecoverably withdrawn, and then repentance comes too late. All this shows that the unintelligible reading of the text should be corrected thus: 66 comes after call.” WARBURTON. I wish the commentator had explained his meaning a little better; for his comment is to me less intelligible than the text. I know not what he thinks of the King's penitence, whether coming in consequence of call, it is sufficient; or whether com Enter GLOSTER. GLO. My liege! K. HEN. My brother Gloster's voice?-Ay; I know thy errand, I will go with thee:The day, my friends, and all things stay for me. [Exeunt, ing when calls have ceased, it is ineffectual. The first sense will suit but ill with the position, that all which he can do is nothing worth; and the latter as ill with the intention of Shakspeare, who certainly does not mean to represent the King as abandoned and reprobate. The old reading is, in my opinion, easy and right. I do all this, says the King, though all that I can do is nothing worth, is so far from an adequate expiation of the crime, that penitence comes after all, imploring pardon both for the crime and the expiation. JOHNSON. I am sensible that every thing of this kind, (works of piety and charity,) which I have done or can do, will avail nothing towards the remission of this sin; since I well know that, after all this is done, true penitence, and imploring pardon, are previously and indispensably necessary towards my obtaining it. HEATH. I should not have reprinted Dr. Warburton's note but for the sake of Dr. Johnson's reply. Mr. Malone, however, thinks Mr. Heath's explication more correct, STEEVENS, SCENE II. The French Camp. Enter Dauphin, ORLEANS, RAMbures, and ORL. The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords. DAU. Montez a cheval:-My horse! valet! lacquay! ha! ORL. O brave spirit! DAU. Via!-les eaux et la terre. 9 Via!-les eaux et la terre-] clamation, as allons! JOHNSON. Via is an old hortatory Dr. Johnson is right. So, in King Edward III. 1596: "Then Via! for the spacious bounds of France!" Again, in Parasitaster, or The Fawne, by John Marston, 1606: "Come Via! to this feastful entertainment!" Again, in Marston's What you Will, 1607: "Tut, Via! let all run glib and square !" STEEVENS. This dialogue will be best explained by referring to the seventh scene of the preceding Act, in which the Dauphin, speaking in admiration of his horse, says: "When I bestride him, I soar, I horse's am a hawk: he trots the air:-It is a beast for Perseus; he is pure air and fire, and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him." He now, seeing his horse at a distance, attempts to say the same thing in French: "Les eaux et la terre," the waters and the earth-have no share in my composition, he was going to have said; but is prevented by the Duke of Orleans, who replies-Can you add nothing more? Is he not air and fire? Yes, says the Dauphin, and even heaven itself. He had, in the former scene, called his horse Wonder of Nature. The words, however, may admit of a different interpretation. He may mean to boast that, when on horseback, he can bound over all the elements, and even soar to heaven itself. MALONE, |