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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 II.

Mort.
Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father?

Hot.
I cannot chuse; sometime he angers me,
&wlquo;With telling 4 noteof the Moldwarp and the Ant,
&wlquo;Of dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies;
&wlquo;And of a dragon, and a finless fish,
&wlquo;A clipt-wing Griffin, and a moulting Raven;
&wlquo;A couching Lion, and a ramping Cat;
&wlquo;And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff,
&wlquo;As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,
&wlquo;He held me the last night at least nine hours,
&wlquo;In reck'ning up the several devils names,
&wlquo;That were his lackeys: I cry'd, hum,—and well,—&wrquo;
But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious
As a tir'd horse, or as a railing wife:
Worse than a smoaky house. I'd rather live
With cheese and garlick, in a windmil, far;
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any summer-house in christendom.

Mort.
In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments; valiant as a Lion;

-- 155 --


And wond'rous affable; as bountiful
As Mines of India: shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himself, even of his natural scope,
When you do cross his humour; 'faith, he does.
I warrant you, that man is not alive
Might so have tempted him as you have done,
Without the taste of danger and reproof.
But do not use it oft, let me intreat you.

Wor.
In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
And, since your coming here, have done enough
To put him quite besides his patience:
You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault;
Though sometimes it shews greatness, courage, blood,
(And that's the dearest grace it renders you;)
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain:
The least of which, haunting a Nobleman,
Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation.

Hot.
Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
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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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