Which fhew like grief itself, but are not fo:
For forrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
'Like perfpectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry,
Diftinguish form: fo your sweet majefty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds fhapes of grief, more than himself, to wail;
Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
More than your lord's departure weep not; more's not
feen:

Or if it be, 'tis with false forrow's eye,

Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary.
Queen. It may be fo; but yet my inward foul
Perfuades me, it is otherwife: Howe'er it be,
I cannot but be fad; fo heavy fad,

Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry,

Diftinguish form:

This is a fine fimilitude, and the thing meant is this; amongst mathematical recreations, there is one in optics, in which a figure is drawn, wherein all the rules of perspective are inverted: fo that, if held in the fame pofition with those pictures which are drawn according to the rules of perspective, it can prefent nothing but confufion and to be feen in form, and under a regular appearance, it must be looked upon from a contrary station; or, as Shakespeare fays, ey'd awry. WARBURTON.

:

"

Like perspectives, &c.] Dr. Plot's Hiftory of Staffordshire, p. 391, explains this perspective or odd kind of pictures upon an indented board, which if beheld directly, you only perceive a confufed piece of work; but if obliquely, you fee the intended perfon's picture, which, he was told, was made thus. The board being indented [or furrowed with a plough-plane] the print or painting was cut into parallel pieces equal to the depth and number of the indentures on the board, and they were pafted on the flats that strike the eye beholding it obliquely; fo that the edges of the parallel pieces of the print or painting exactly joining on the edges of the indentures, the work was done." ToLLET.

As,

As, though, in thinking, on no thought I think, Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. Busby. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. Queen. 'Tis nothing lefs: conceit is still deriv'd From fome fore-father grief; mine is not fo; 3 For nothing hath begot my fomething grief; Or fomething hath, the nothing that I grieve: + 'Tis in reverfion that I do poffefs;

2

But

As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think,] We should read: As though in thinking; that is, though mufing I have no diftinct idea of calamity. The involuntary and unaccountable depreffion of the mind, which every one has fome time felt, is here very forcibly deferibed. JOHNSON.

3 For nothing hath begot my fomething grief;

Or fomething bath, the nothing that I grieve:]

With thefe lines I know not well what can be done. The queen's reafoning, as it now ftands, is this: my trouble is not conceit, for conceit is fill derived from fome antecedent caufe, Jome fore-father grief; but with me the cafe is, that either my real grief hath no real caufe, or fome real cause has produced a fancied grief. That is, my grief is not conceit, because it either has not a caufe like conceit, or it has a caufe like conceit. This can hardly stand. Let us try again, and read thus :

For nothing hath begot my fomething grief;

Not fomething hath the nothing which I grieve:

That is; my grief is not conceit; conceit is an imaginary uneafinefs from fome paft occurrence. But, on the contrary, here is real grief without a real caufe; not a real caufe with a fanciful forrow. This, I think, must be the meaning; harsh at the best, yet better than contradiction or abfurdity. JOHNSON.

4 'Tis in reverfion that I do poffefs;

But what it is, that is not yet known; &c.]

I am about to propofe an interpretation which many will think harfh, and which I do not offer for certain. To poffefs a man, is, in Shakespeare, to inform him fully, to make him comprehend. To be poffeffed, is, to be fully informed. Of this fenfe the examples are

numerous;

"I have poffeft him my most stay can be but short." Meafure for Measure. "He is poffeft what fum you need." Merchant of Venice. I therefore imagine the queen fays thus:

'Tis in reverfion-that I do poffefs. ·

The event is yet in futurity that I know with full conviction

But what it is, that is not yet known; what
I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.

Enter Green.

Green. Heaven fave your majefty!—and well met, gentlemen:

I hope, the king is not yet fhip'd for Ireland.
Queen. Why hop'ft thou fo? 'tis better hope, he is;
For his defigns crave hafte, his hafte good hope;
Then wherefore doft thou hope, he is not fhip'd?
Green. That he, our hope, "might have retir'd his
power,

And driven into defpair an enemy's hope,
Who strongly hath fet footing in this land:
The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
And with uplifted arms is fafe arriv'd
At Ravenfpurg.

Queen. Now God in heaven forbid!

Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, The lord Northumberland, his young fon Henry Percy,

The lords of Rofs, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
Bulby. Why have you not proclaim'd Northum-
berland,

And the rest of the revolted faction, traitors?
Green. We have: whereupon the earl of Worcester
Hath broke his staff, refign'd his stewardship,
And all the houfhöld fervants fled with him
To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe,

but what it is, that is not yet known. In any other interpretation fhe muft fay that be poffeffes what is not yet come, which, though it may be allowed to be poetical and figurative language, is yet, I think, lefs natural than my explanation. JOHNSON.

5might have retir'd his power,] Might have drawn it back. A French fenfe. JOHNSON.

And

And Bolingbroke my forrow's difmal heir:
Now hath my foul brought forth her prodigy;
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, forrow to forrow join'd.
Bushy. Despair not, madam.

Queen. Who fhall hinder me?
I will defpair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope: he is a flatterer,
A parafite, a keeper-back of death,
Who gently would diffolve the bands of life,
Which falfe hope lingers in extremity.

Enter York.

Green. Here comes the duke of York.
Queen. With figns of war about his aged neck;
Oh, full of careful bufinefs are his looks!

Uncle, for heaven's fake, speak comfortable words.
York. Should I do fo, I fhould bely my thoughts 7:
Comfort's inheaven; and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives, but croffes, care, and grief.·
Your husband he is gone to fave far off,

Whilft others come to make him lofe at home:
Here am I left to underprop his land;

Who, weak with age, cannot fupport myself::
Now comes the fick hour that his furfeit made;
Now fhall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My lord, your fon was gone before I came. York. He was -Why, fo!-go all which way it

will!.

The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,

my forrow's difmal heir:] The author feems to have used heir in an improper fenfe, an heir being one that inherits by fucceffion, is here put for one that fucceeds, though he fucceeds but in order of time, not in order of defcent. JOHNSON.

7 Should I do fo, I should bely my thoughts:] This line is found in three of the quartos, but is wanting in the folio. STEEvens.

And

And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide.-
Sirrah,

Get thee to Plashy, to my fifter Glofter;

Bid her fend me presently a thousand pound :-
Hold, take my ring.

Ser. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:
To-day, I came by, and call'd there ;- but I
Shall grieve you to report the rest.

York. What is it, knave?

Ser. An hour before I came, the dutchess dy❜d. York. Heaven for his mercy! what a tide of woes Comes rufhing on this woeful land at once!

I know not what to do:-I would to heaven,
(So my untruth hath not provok'd him to it)
The king had cut off my head with my brother's.-
What, are there pofts difpatch'd for Ireland ?-
How fhall we do for money for these wars?-
Come, fifter,-coufin, I would fay'; pray, pardon

me.

Go, fellow, get thee home, provide fome carts,

[To the fervant. And bring away the armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you go mufter men? if I know How, or which way, to order these affairs, Thus diforderly thruft into my hands, Never believe me. Both are my kinfmen;The one's my fovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend; the other again,

Is my kinfman, whom the king hath wrong'd Whom confcience and my kindred bids to right. Well, fomewhat we must do.-Come, coufin, I'll

Get thee to Play, -] The lordship of Plashy was a town of the dutchess of Gloiter's in Effex. See Hall's Chronicle, p. 13. THEOBALD.

-untruth-] That is, disloyalty, treachery. JOHNSON. Come, fifter, coufin, I would fay;] This is one of Shakefpeare's touches of nature. York is talking to the queen his coufin, but the recent death of his fifter is uppermost in his mind.

STEEVENS.

VOL. V.

N

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