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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].

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SCENE I. The Duke's Court in Florence. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French Lords, with Soldiers.

Duke.
So that, from point to point, now have you heard
The fundamental reasons of this war,
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.

1 Lord.
Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your Grace's part; but black and fearful
On the opposer.

Duke.
Therefore we marvel much, our cousin France
Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.

2 Lord.
Good my Lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
But like a common and ¹ ^notean outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
² ^noteBy self-unable notion; therefore dare not
Say what I think of it, since I have found
Myself in my incertain grounds to fail
As often as I guest.

Duke.
Be it his pleasure.

-- 55 --

2 Lord.
But I am sure, the younger of our nation,
That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
Come here for physick.

Duke.
Welcome shall they be:
And all the honours, that can fly from us,
Shall on them settle. You know your places well.
When better fall, for your avails they fell;
To-morrow, to the field. [Exeunt.
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