f being
thought pedantic dispirits and flattens the energies of original minds.
But independently of this, I have no hesitation in saying that a pun, if
it be congruous with the feeling of the scene, is not only allowable in
the dramatic dialogue, but oftentimes one of the most effectual intensives
of passion.

_Ib._--

"_K. Rich._ Right; you say true, as Hereford's love, so his;
As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is."

The depth of this compared with the first scene:--

"How high a pitch," &c.

There is scarcely anything in Shakespeare in its degree, more admirably
drawn than York's character; his religious loyalty struggling with a deep
grief and indignation at the king's follies; his adherence to his word and
faith, once given in spite of all, even the most natural, feelings. You
see in him the weakness of old age, and the overwhelmingness of
circumstances, for a time surmounting his sense of duty,--the junction of
both exhibited in his boldness in words and feebleness in immediate act;
and then again his effort to retrieve himself in abstract loyalty, even at
the heavy price of the loss of his son. This species of accidental and
adventitious weakness is brought into parallel with Richard's continually
increasing energy of thought, and as constantly diminishing power of
acting;--and thus it is Richard that breathes a harmony and a relation into
all the characters of the play.

_Ib._ sc. 2.--

"_Queen._ To please the king I did; to please myself
I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks,
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in sorrow's womb,
Is coming toward me; and my inward soul
With nothing trembles: at something it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king."

It is clear that Shakespeare never meant to represent Richard as a vulgar
debauchee, but a man with a wantonness of spirit in external show, a
feminine _friendism_, an intensity of woman-like love of those immediately
about him, and a mistaking of the delight of being loved by him for a love
of him. And mark in this scene Shakespeare's gentleness in touching the
tender superstitions, the _terrae incognitae_ of presentiments, in the human
mind; and how sharp a line of distinction he commonly draws between these
obscure forecastings of general experience in each individual, and the
vulgar errors of mere tradition. Indeed, it ma