The same remark applies to Henry IV. In this admirable play there is no female character of any importance; but Lady Percy, the wife of Hotspur, is a very lively and beautiful sketch: she is sprightly, feminine, and fond; but without any thing energetic or profound, in mind or in feeling. Her gayety and spirit in the first scenes, are the result of youth and happiness, and nothing can be more natural than the utter dejection and brokenness of heart which follow her husband's death: she is no heroine for war or tragedy; she has no thought of revenging her loss; and even her grief has something soft and quiet in its pathos. Her speech to her father-in-law, Northumberland, in which she entreats him "not to go to the wars," and at the same time pronounces the most beautiful eulogium on her heroic husband, is a perfect piece of feminine eloquence, both in the feeling and in the expression. Almost every one knows by heart Lady Percy's celebrated address to her husband, beginning, O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? and that of Portia to Brutus, in Julius Caesar, ... You've ungently, Brutus, Stol'n from my bed. The situation is exactly similar, the topics of remonstrance are nearly the same; the sentiments and the style as opposite as are the characters of the two women. Lady Percy is evidently accustomed to win more from her fiery lord by caresses than by reason: he loves her in his rough way "as Harry Percy's wife," but she has no real influence over him: he has no confidence in her. LADY PERCY. ... In faith, I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir About this title, and hath sent for you To line his enterprise, but if you go-- HOTSPUR. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love! The whole scene is admirable, but unnecessary here, because it illustrates no point of character in her. Lady Percy has no _character_, properly so called; whereas, that of Portia is very distinctly and faithfully drawn from the outline furnished by Plutarch. Lady Percy's fond upbraidings, and her half playful, half pouting entreaties, scarcely gain her husband's attention. Portia, with true matronly dignity and tenderness, pleads her right to share her husband's thoughts, and proves it too I grant I am a woman, but withal, A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife, I grant I am a woman, but withal, A woman well reputed--Cato's daughter. Think you, I am no stronger than my sex Being so father'd and so husbanded? * * * * BRUTUS. You are my true and honorable wife: As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart!