Duns Scotus was an English Franciscan Friar who, differing from Thomas Aquinas, occasioned a famous scholastic division, known by the titles of Thomists and Scotists. He died at Paris in 1308. Erasmus, who had a very low opinion of this writer, in his "Praise of Folie," 1549, sig. N 3, says: "Lykewise not longe agone I was present at the sermon of an other famous doctour being almost 80 yeres old, and thereto so doctour lyke, as if _Duns_ were new arisen in him, who entending to disclose the mistery of the name of Jesu, with great subtiltie shewed, how evin in the _verie letters was muche pithe included, and might be gathered thereof_." [72] ["A splendid scene."--_MS. note._] [73] ["This, I think, is very fine, where we ... words that precede it...."--_MS, note (partly illegible) in one of the former edits._] [74] It stood in the last edition [1780]: "_Some darken'd blushless angel_," &c., which renders the passage utter nonsense.--_Collier._ [75] ["He imagines her speaking, and answers her."--_MS. note in one of the former edits._] [76] [Sinner.] [77] See note at p. 35. [78] This passage and the preceding exclamation have been restored from the old copy of 1607, having been omitted both by Dodsley and Reed.--_Collier._ ACTUS IV., SCÆNA 1. _Enter_ LUSURIOSO, _with_ HIPPOLITO. LUS. Hippolito! HIP. My lord, Has your good lordship aught to command me in? LUS. I prythee, leave us. HIP. How's this? come, and leave us! LUS. Hippolito! HIP. Your honour, I stand ready for any duteous employment. LUS. Heart! what mak'st thou here? HIP. A pretty lordly humour! He bids me be present to depart; something Has stung his honour. LUS. Be nearer; draw nearer: Ye're not so good, methinks; I'm angry with you. HIP. With me, my lord? I'm angry with myself for't. LUS. You did prefer a goodly fellow to me: 'Twas wittily elected; 'twas. I thought H' had been a villain, and he proves a knave-- To me a knave. HIP. I chose him for the best, my lord: 'Tis much my sorrow, if neglect in him Breed discontent in you. LUS. Neglect! 'twas will. Judge of it. Firmly to tell of an incredible act, Not to be thought, less to be spoken of, 'Twixt my step-mother and the bastard; of Incestuous sweets between 'em. HIP. Fie, my lord! LUS. I, in kind loyalty to my father's forehead, Made this a desperate arm; and in that fury Committed treason on the lawful bed, And with my sword e'en ras'd my father's bosom, For which I was within a stroke of death. HIP. Alack! I'm sorry. 'Sfoot, just upon the stroke, Jars in my brother; 'twill be villainous music. _Enter_ VENDICE. VEN. My honour'd lord. LUS. Away! prythee, forsake us: hereafter we'll not know thee. VEN. Not know me, my lord! your lordship cannot choose. LUS. Begone. I say: thou art a false knave.