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ARDEN    SHAK 


HISTORIES 


••    .  v*i         -<v  •-" 


HEATH 


Curctlo 


THE    ARDEN     SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HERFORD,  Litt.D.,  University  of  Manchester 

':•'<'    FIVE 

HISTORIES 

RICHARD  THE  SECOND 

RICHARD  THE  THIRD 

HENRY  THE    FOURTH,  PART  I 

HENRY  THE  FOURTH,  PART  II 

HENRY  THE  FIFTH 


D.    C.    HEATH    AND    COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO 

ATLANTA  SAN   FRANCISCO  DALLAS 

LONDON 


2  G 


THE    ARDEN    SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HERFORD,  Litt.D.,  University  of  Manchester 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

KING  RICHARD  II 


EDITED    BY 

C.  H.  HERFORD,  LITT.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH    IN   THE 
UNIVERSITY    OF   MANCHESTER 


D.    C.    HEATH    AND    COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO 

ATLANTA  SAN   FRANCISCO  DALLAS 

LONDON 


GENERAL  PREFACE 

IN  this  edition  of  SHAKESPEARE  an  attempt  is  made 
to  present  the  greater  plays  of  the  dramatist  in  their 
literary  aspect,  and  not  merely  as  material  for  the  study 
of  philology  or  grammar.  Criticism  purely  verbal  and 
textual  has  only  been  included  to  such  an  extent  as 
may  serve  to  help  the  student  in  the  appreciation  of 
the  essential  poetry.  Questions  of  date  and  literary 
history  have  been  fully  dealt  with  in  the  Introductions, 
but  the  larger  space  has  been  devoted  to  the  interpre- 
tative rather  than  the  matter-of-fact  order  of  scholar- 
ship. ^Esthetic  judgments  are  never  final,  but  the 
Editors  have  attempted  to  suggest  points  of  view  from 
which  the  analysis  of  dramatic  motive  and  dramatic 
character  may  be  profitably  undertaken.  In  the  Notes 
likewise,  while  it  is  hoped  that  all  unfamiliar  expressions 
and  allusions  have  been  adequately  explained,  yet  it 
has  been  thought  even  more  important  to  consider  the 
dramatic  value  of  each  scene,  and  the  part  which  it 
plays  in  relation  to  the  whole.  These  general  princi- 
ples are  common  to  the  whole  series;  in  detail  each 
Editor  is  alone  responsible  for  the  play  or  plays  that 
have  been  intrusted  to  him. 

Every  volume  of  the  series  has  been  provided  with  a 
Glossary,  an  Essay  upon  Metre,  and  an  Index;  and 
Appendices  have  been  added  upon  points  of  special 
interest  which  could  not  conveniently  be  treated  in  the 
Introduction  or  the  Notes.  The  text  is  based  by  the 
several  Editors  on  that  of  the  Globe  edition. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

GENERAL  PREFACE,  -     i" 

EDITOR'S  PREFACE,  v 

INTRODUCTION,       -  -        •        «       -     -  "        "   v11 

DRAMATIS  PERSONS,     -  -       xxxiv 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  KING  RICHARD  II,  -      i 

NOTES,    -  "        "  I05 

OUTLINE  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S  PROSODY,  -  185 

GLOSSARY, *  :      " 

INDEX  OF  WORDS, 209 

GENERAL  INDEX,  -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -  2U 


INTRODUCTION 

I.   LITERARY  HISTORY  OF  THE   PLAY 

§  1.  RICHARD  THE  SECOND,  the  second  in  historical  order  of 
Shakespeare's  English  Histories,  \vas  first  printed  T 

in  1597.     The  first  edition  (in  quarto)  was  en- 
tered in  the  Stationers'  Register  Augost  29,  1597,  and  bears  the  fol- 
lowing title: 

"The  |  Tragedie  of  King  Ri-  |  chard  the  se-  |  cond.  |  As  it  hath 
beenepublikely  acted  \  by  the  right  Honourable  the  \  Lorde  Chamberlaine 
his  Ser-  \  uants.  \  LONDON  |  Printed  by  Valentine  Simmes  for  Andrew 
Wise,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  Shop  in  Paules  church  yard  at  |  the 
signe  of  the  Angel.  |  1597  |." 

Of  this  edition  three  copies  are  known  to  be  in  existence: — (1)  in 
the  collection  of  about  fifty  quartos  included  in  the  Shakespearean 
library  presented  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  in  1779,  by  Edward 
Capell;  (2)  after  1847  in  the  library  of  George  Daniel,  then  (1864)  in 
the  valuable  collection  of  Henry  Huth  and  of  his  son  Alfred  Henry 
Huth,  from  whom  it  passed  by  bequest  in  1911  to  the  British  Museum; 
(3)  after  1792  in  the  library  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  then  (1821)  in 
the  library  of  the  sixth  Duke  of  Devonshire,  since  1914  in  the  li- 
brary of  Mr.  Henry  E.  Huntington  of  San  Marino, California.  Because 
of  the  sixteenth-century  practice  of  correcting  typographical  errors 
while  a  book  was  passing  through  the  press,  and  then  of  binding  up 
corrected  and  uncorrected  sheets  as  chance  directed,  "each  of  the 
three  extant  copies  of  the  first  edition  may  be  called  unique." 

All  specimens  of  the  edition  omit  the  deposition  scene,  Act  iv. 
154-318,  and  it  Was  probably  omitted  in  the  representation  also,  as 
too  dangerously  suggestive,  in  spite  of  the  sympathy  it  awakens  for 
Richard,  at  a  time  when  the  dethronement  of  Elizabeth  was  being 
enjoined  as  a  duty  upon  her  Catholic  subjects.  The  omission  was 
repeated  in  the  second  and  third  quartos,  1598.  It  was  only  in  the 
fourth  quarto,  1608,  when  Elizabeth's  death  had  removed  the  main 
objection  to  it,  that  this  part  of  the  scene  was  published,  the  addition 
being  announced  on  the  title-page  of  some  copies  in  the  words,  "With 
new  additions  of  the  Parliament  Sceane  and  the  deposing  of  King 


viii  KING  RICHARD  II 

Ilichard."  Hut  it  is  certain  that  the  "additions"  formed  part  of  the 
original  play,  l*>th  liecause  they  are  indistinguishable  in  style  from 
the  rest,  and  bet-aii.se  the  words  tliat  immediately  follow  in  the 
earliest  text,  "A  woeful  pageant  have  we  here  beheld"  (iv.  319),  <-an 
be  applied  only  to  the  deposition  scene.  A  fifth  quarto  edition,  in 
Hi  15,  shows  the  continued  |>opularity  of  the  play.  In  the  first  folio 
edition  of  Shakespeare,  IQiS,  the  text  of  the  fifth  quarto  was  in  the 
main  reproduced,  but  with  the  omission  of  several  passages  that 
it  was  perhaps  usual  to  omit  on  the  stage.  "In  the  'new  additions 
of  the  Parliament  Sceane'  it  would  appear  that  the  defective  text  of 
the  quarto  h«»d  lx«en  corrected  from  the  author's  MS.  For  this  part 
therefore  the  First  Folio  is  our  highest  authority;  for  all  the  rest  of  the 
play  the  first  quarto  affords  the  best  text."  *  A  sixth  quarto  was 
printed  in  1034,  from  the  Second  Folio  (1632);  "its  readings  some- 
times agree  with  one  or  other  of  the  earlier  quartos,  and  in  a  few  cases 
are  entirely  independent  of  previous  editions."2  The  play  is  ". .  .the 
only  one  of  Shakespeare's  which  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  passing 
through  three  editions  in  less  than  two  years."  ()f  only  three  of  the 
plays, — all  histories,  Richard  II,  1  Henry  II',  and  Richard  III, — were 
there  as  many  as  five  editions  during  the  lifetime  of  Shakespeare. 

During  the  winter  of  1913-14  it  was  found  that  a  quarto  of  1598,  — 
since  1890  in  the  library  of  Mr.  William  A.  White,  of  Brooklyn,  — 
differs  in  many  of  its  readings  from  those  of  the  other  eight  quartos 
dated  1598.  This  quarto,  now  known  as  the  third,  is  believed  to  be 
unique.3  In  a  careful  and  acute  comparison  of  the  texts  of  the  five 
quartos  and  of  the  First  Folio  (16*3)  Mr.  Alfred  W.  Pollard,  of  the 
British  Museum,  shows  that  the  second  quarto  was  printed  from  the 
first,  carelessly,  however,  and  with  numerous  errors;  that  each  suc- 
ceeding quarto  was  printed  from  its  immediate  predecessor,  with  some 
corrections  and  with  some  additional  errors;  and  that  the  First  Folio 
was  printed  from  the  fifth  quarto,  corrected  from  the  first  quarto.4 
The  most  valuable  text  of  the  play,  though  not  free  from  errors,  is 
that  of  the  first  quarto;  next  in  value  is  that  of  the  First  Folio,  in  which 
numerous  errors  in  the  quartos  are  corrected,  but  into  which  many  new 
errors  found  their  way.  Mr.  Pollard  concludes  his  interesting  study 

*  Cambridge  Shaketpeare,  vol.  iv.,  p.  it. 
J/fci/. 

*  This  discovery  was  made  by  Miss  Henrietta  C.  Bartlett  while  she  was  cataloguing 
the  library  of  Mr.  White.   See  page  83  of  A  Centui  of  Shaketpeare' i  Play*  in  Quarto 
(IBltt),  by  Henrietta  C.  Bnrtlett  and  Alfred  W.  Pollard;  olso  pages   18  and  xvii  of 
Mr.  William  Shakeipeare,  Original  and  Early  Edition*  of  his  Quarto*  and  Foliat  (1944), 
by  Henrietta  C.  Bartlett. 

«  Page  10  of  the  Introduction  to  A  .Vftr  Skaketpeare  Quarto.  The  Tragedy  of  King 
Richard  II,  printed  for  the  third  time  by  Valentine  Simmes  in  159S.  Reproduced 
in  facsimile  from  the  unique  copy,  etc.  Bernard  Quarilcb  London.  1916. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

with  the  statement  (1916)  "that  the  text  of  the  First  Quarto  more 
accurately  represents  what  Shakespeare  wrote,  may  even  indeed  have 
been  set  up  from  his  autograph  manuscript,  and  that  the  play  itself 
never  subsequently  received  any  revision  whatever  from  Shakespeare 
himself,  seem  to  me  the  most  certain  of  propositions."  1 

§  2.  Of  the  performances  of  the  play  during  Elizabeth's  and  James's 

reigns  we  have  no  certain  details.   "  It  was  dangerous      „   . 

...  ,  .  .  ITTt       ,,         Performances 

to  relate,  even  with  the  best  intentions,  Kichard  s 

deposition  in  print;  and  Sir  John  Hayward,  who  narrated  it  in  his 
History  of  the  Life  and  Raigne  of  Henry  IV,  in  1599,  was  censured 
by  the  Star  Chamber  and  sent  to  prison.  That  such  severity  was 
not  altogether  groundless  became  clear  in  1601  when  Sir  Gilly 
Merrick,  with  a  company  of  Essex's  confederates,  procured  the  per- 
formance of  'the  play  of  the  deposing  and  killing  of  King  Richard 
the  Second '  on  the  afternoon  before  the  revolt. '  I  am  Richard  II,  know 
ye  not  that?"  said  Elizabeth  to  Lambarde,  the  Keeper  of  the  Records 
in  the  Tower,  on  his  showing  her  the  Rolls  of  the  reign;  adding,  as 
an  illustration  of  Essex's  ingratitude  to  his  benefactor  that  'this 
tragedy  was  played  40tle  times  in  open  streets  and  houses.' "  2 

"We  have  no  definite  evidence  that  this  much-debated  tragedy  was 
Shakespeare's  Richard  II.  But  the  sceptical  view  has  been  somewhat 
over-urged.  In  its  favor  is  Camden's  description  of  the  piece  as  'an 
obsolete  tragedy,'  —  exoletam  Traguediam  de  tragica  abdicatione  Rtgis 
Ricardi  secundi,— as  well  as  the  objection  raised  by  the  players, 
when  applied  to  by  Merrick,  that  it  was  'so  old  and  so  long  out  of  use 
as  that  they  should  have  small  or  no  company  at  yt;'  an  objection 
overcome  only  by  the  offer  of  'xls.  more  than  their  ordynary  for 
yt.'"  3  The  only  player  whose  name  we  know,  Augustine  Phillips; 
belonged  to  Shakespeare's  company,  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  Serv- 
ants. "On  the  whole,  we  may  safely  conclude  that  it  was  Shake- 
speare's Richard  II  with  which  we  have  here  to  do."  4 

A  second  performance  is  that  recorded  to  have  taken  place  on  board 
the  ship  of  Captain  Keeling,  off  Sierra  Leone,  on  September  30,  1607. 
The  record  occurs  in  the  captain's  journal.  "September  30.  Captain 
Hawkins  dined  with  me,  wher  my  companions  acted  Kinge  Richard 
the  Second."  Hamlet  had  been  acted  on  September  5  before  "the 
kinges  interpreter,"  Lucas  Fernandez,  a  negro  "of  maruailous  redie 
witt,"  who  spoke  "in  eloquent  Portugues."  He  was  acting  as  inter- 
preter for  his  brother-in-law,  Captain  Borea,  "the  principal  native 

1  Introduction  to  A  New  Shakespeare  Quarto. 

1  Nichols"  Progresses  and  Processions  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  1823,  vol.  iii.  p.  552. 
*  Examination  of  Augustine  Phillips,  servant  unto  the  L.  Chamberlain,  quoted  in 
Eversley  Edition,  edited  by  Professor  C.  H  Herford,  1899:  vol.  vi,  pp.  122,  123. 
« Ibid.,  p.  124. 


x  KING  RICHARD  II 

Chief  or  King."  On  September  31  (fie),- — probably  an  error  for 
March  31.  1(HJ8, — Captain  Keeling  of  the  Dragon  "envited  Captain 
H.iwkius  to  a  ffishe  dinner,  and  had  Hainlet  acted  alxml  me";  "which 
I  permitt,"  the  captain  shrewdly  adds,  "to  keejx?  my  people  from 
idlenes  anil  unlawful!  games,  or  sleejxr."  '  "The  Commanders  of 
vessels  were  instructed  [by  the  Directors  of  the  Kast  Indit.  Company] 
to  pay  the  strictest  attention  ...  to  the  repression  of  bhisphemous 
expressions,  prophane  swearing,  lewd  conversation,  dicing,  and  every 
other  description  of  gaming,  which  is  dcscrilxsl  as  Ix'ing  a  fruitful 
cause  of  quarrels,  frequently  leading  to  murder,  and  an  esjx'cial 
object  of  God's  indignation."  • 

In  June,  I0.il,  the  play  was  revived  by  the  King's  Company,  and 
ha.l  at  least  two  performances.  The  second  day  w;is  a  lx«nefit  per- 
formance for  the  Master  of  the  Revels,  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  —  younger 
brother  of  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury  and  of  (Jeorge  Herbert.' 

In  the  Restoration  pericxl  the  play  suffered  the  same  fate  with 
King  Lear  and  Corioltinus  in  undergoing  extensive  alteration  at  the 
hands  of  the  third-rate  poet  arid  psalm-versifier,  Nahum  Tate,  poet 
laureate  from  1692  to  1713.  In  1(581,  the  year  of  the  Monmouth 
Rebellion,  with  change  of  scene  and  of  names  of  characters,  with 
omission  of  serious  passages  and  the  addition  of  comic  material,  the 
play  was  produced  at  the  Theatre  Royal  under  the  title  tif  The 
Sicilian  Usurper.  Because  of  supposed  political  allusions,  after  two 
performances,  it  was,  as  the  writer  states  in  his  preface,  "Silcnc'd 
on  the  Third  Day."  On  December  11),  171!),  a  much-altered  version 
of  the  play  by  Lewis  Theobald,  one  of  the  m<wt  notable  of  Shake- 
spearean scholars,  was  produced  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  In  order  to 
maintain  the  unity  of  action,  Acts  I  and  II,  except  for  some  speeches 
used  in  later  scenes,  were  entirely  omitted.  The  scenes  are  all  laid 
near  the  Tower  of  London  or  within  it.  Aumerle  is  represented  as  in 
love  with  Lady  Piercy,  daughter  of  Northumberland;  she,  not 
Aumerle's  mother,  pleads  for  his  life.  Aumerle  is  put  to  death,  in- 
stead of  being  forgiven.  The  Duke  of  York  kills  himself.  "More 

1  Captain  Reeling's  journal  was  first  printed,  with  many  omissions,  in  Ptirrha*  Uii 


st.imling  is  shown  by  Mr.  F.  S.  Bolt's  in  an  artirle  on   Shakttprarian  Prrformancf't'at 


1  Mid.,  p.  4.-M). 

»  BcMwrll'*  Malaif,  vol.  iii.  p.   177;  p.  44  of    Tfir  Dramatic  Krror '*  nf  Sir  Urnru 
Htrbert,  Ma-ster  of  the  RrvrLs,  KWS-167S.   Jxlite.1  tiv  J.weph  Quinry  A(inm<.  1917. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

than  half  of  the  play,  however,  is  Shakespeare's.  ...  It  lasted  a 
year  or  two,  and  was  superseded  in  1737-38  by  an  elaborate  repre- 
sentation of  Shakespeare's  own  play  at  Covent  Garden."  l 

In  1815  a  version  by  Richard  Wroughton,  a  retired  actor,  modified 
Shakespeare's  play,  not  so  extensively,  however,  as  the  versions  of 
Tate  and  Theobald.  The  characters  of  the  Duchess  of  York  and  the 
Duchess  of  Gloucester  were  omitted  in  order  to  extend  and  to  mag- 
nify the  part  of  the  Queen,  who  spoke  over  the  dead  body  of  the 
King  an  adaptation  of  "Lear's  lament  over  the  body  of  Cordelia."  2 
This  version  of  the  play  was  produced  by  Edmund  Kean  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.  "This  last  adaptation,"  says  Hazlitt,  "is  the  best  that 
has  been  attempted:  for  it  consists  entirely  of  omissions,  which  are 
idly  tacked  on  to  the  conclusion."  3  Hazlitt  (one  of  the  finest  of 
English  dramatic  critics)  thought  Kean's  playing  of  Richard  too 
energetic;  he  "made  it  a  character  of  passion  .  .  .  whereas  it  is  a 
character  of  pathos." 

Forty  years  later  the  play  enjoyed  one  of  those  "lavish  and  schol- 
arly productions"  that  during  the  last  forty  years  have  been  con- 
tinued by  Sir  Henry  Irving  and  Sir  Herbert  Tree.  Charles  Kean, 
though  not  so  great  an  actor  as  his  father,  "was  the  first  really  great 
producer  of  Shakespeare  in  anything  like  our  modern  sense,  involv- 
ing absolute  historical  accuracy  as  to  scenery,  costumes,  and  acces- 
sories; every  production  was  the  result  of  minute  search  for  sources, 
study  of  originals,  examination  of  historical  documents,  consultation 
with  experts,  archaeological  and  artistic,  and  an  unwearied  striving 
for  unified  and  beautiful  effects."  *  He  brought  out  Richard  II  on 
March  12,  1857,  and  "kept  it  going  for  85  nights."  Scenes  and 
speeches,  including  those  spoken  by  Charles  Kean  as  Richard,  were 
ruthlessly  cut  in  order  to  make  room  for  "a  very  elaborate  wordless 
spectacle  of  the  entry  into  London  of  the  wretched  Richard  in  the 
train  of  the  conquering  Bolingbroke."  5  This  revival  has  been  fe- 
licitously described  by  Walter  Pater  (who  at  that  time  was  not  yet 
eighteen)  in  his  Appreciations  (1889):  "In  the  painstaking  revival  of 
King  Richard  the  Second  by  the  late  Charles  Kean,  those  who  wTere 
very  young  thirty  years  ago  were  afforded  much  more  than  Shake- 
speare's play  could  ever  have  been  before, — the  very  person  of  the 
King  based  on  the  stately  old  portrait  in  Westminster  Abbey,  'the 
earliest  extant  contemporary  likeness  of  any  English  sovereign,' 

1  Shakeipearr  from  Betterton  to  Irving  (1920);  by  George  C.  D.  Odell,  i,  56-59. 

2  Odell:  op.  cU.,  ii,  72-75. 

1  Criticisms  of  the  English  Stage,  p.  220 

Odell:  op.  cit.  p.  286. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  293. 


xii  KING  RICHARD  II 

the  grace,  the  winning  pathos,  the  sympathetic  voice  of  the  player, 
the  i.i-ii-ful  archaeology  confronting  vulgar  modern  London  with  a 
scenic  reproduction,  for  once  really  agreeable,  of  the  London  of 
Chaucor.  In  the  hands  of  Kean  the  play  became  like  an  exquisite 
performance  on  the  violin."  *  In  September,  1903,  Herbert  Tree 
produced  this  play  at  His  Majesty's  Theatre,  "even  more  superbly 
mounted  than  had  been  his  previous  revivals  of  historical  plays.  * 
The  play  was  dividel  iut  »  three  arts  or  groups,  the  first  dosing  with 
the  departure  of  King  Richard  for  Ireland,  the  second  with  a  pageant 
of  the  return  of  the  captive  king  in  the  train  of  Bolingbroke. — much 
as  it  hail  been  represented  by  Charles  Kean  in  1857, — the  third  with 
the  death  of  King  Richard.3 

Among  twentieth  century  managers  and  audiences  there  appears 
to  be  an  increasing  tendency  to  prefer  simpler  stage  settings  and  to 
place  greater  e  nphasis  upon  skilful  acting,  less  upon  elaborate 
scenery  and  properties.  Cliarl«>s  Koan,  Irving,  and  Tree  were  more 
notable  as  presenters  of  plays  than  as  actors.  Furthermore,  this 
play,  though  i  npressive  wnen  presented  as  a  pageant,  is  not  well 
adapted  to  attract  a  popular  audience.  Its  studious  avoidance  of  the 
grosser  kinds  of  effec-t,  of  noise  and  bustle,  of  obvious  and  harrowing 
tragedy,  make  it  "ill-suited,"  as  Coleridge  says,  "for  our  modern 
large  theatres."  *  On  a  first  reading  or  hearing  it  may  seem  bald: 
its  wealth  of  poetry  and  meaning  is  disclosed  only  by  intimate  study. 
It  has  therefore  always  been  a  favourite  rather  with  the  critic  than 
with  the  general  reader.  But  the  critic's  estimate  of  it  has  been 
extraordinarily  high.  "In  itself,  and  for  the  closet,"  says  Coleridge,* 
"I  feel  no  hesitation  in  placing  it  as  the  first  and  most  admirable  of 
all  Shakespeare's  purely  historical  plays."  And  the  most  brilliant 
and  sagacious  of  German  critics  of  Shakespeare,  F.  Kreyssig,  endorses 

Coleridge's   judgment    upon   what   he   calls   "this   masterpiece   of 

political  poetry."  8 

II.    THE  DATE  OF  THE  PLAY 

§  3.  The  date  of  the  composition  of  Richard  II  has  never  been 
(a)  External        determined    with    certainty.     The    only    definite 
Evidence         d&te  at  our  disposal  in  connection  with  the  pro- 
duction of  the  play  is  the  publication  of  the  first  quarto  edition  in 
1597.    The  play  was  probably  written  two  or  three  years  earlier; 

1  Walter  Pater:  Appreciation*,  p.  403. 

»(Mell:  op.  eit..  ii,  483. 

»  Ibi.t, 

4  S.  T.  Coleridge:  I.rcluret,  etc.,  ed.  A.ihe,  p.  «5fl. 

'  IM.,  p.  <56. 

*  Krey.vig:  I'orlnungrn,  i,  178. 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

but  the  probability  rests  chiefly  upon  internal  evidence.  One  pioce  of 
external  evidence  has  indeed  been  alleged, — the  resemblance  (pointed 
out  by  Charles  Knight  in  1839  and  by  Grant  White  in  1859)  of  certain 
passages  in  this  play  to  certain  others  found  in  Daniel's  narrative 
poem,  "The  First  Foure  Bookes  of  the  ciuile  wars  between  the  tafo 
houses  of  Lancaster  and  Yorke,"  published  in  1595 ;*  but  these  show, 
at  the  most,  that  one  of  the  poets  borrowed  from  the  other;  that  is, 
that  Richard  II  was  produced  either  before  1595  or  —  after.  Knight 
inferred  that  Shakespeare  was  influenced  by  Daniel;  White,  that 
Daniel  was  influenced  by  Shakespeare.  Professor  Hales  appositely 
refers  to  the  rebuke  civilly  enough  administered  to  "sweet  honey- 
dropping  "Daniel  in  the  Return  from  Parnassus  as  indicating  on  which 
side  the  "theft,"  if  there  was  one,  probably  lay, — 

"  Only  let  him  more  sparingly  make  use 

Of  others'  wit,  and  use  his  own  the  more,  » 

That  well  may  scorn  base  imitation." 

On  the  other  hand,  few  great  poets  have  drawn  more  largely  than 
Shakespeare  upon  the  works  of  lesser  writers.  Like  Moliere,  he  took 
his  own  wherever  he  found  it,  and  with  his  Midas-touch  transmuted 
it  into  something  more  precious  that  bore  his  own  stamp.  Dryden's 
remark  about  Ben  Jonson  applies  with  equal  truth  to  Shakespeare: — 
"He  invades  authors  like  a  monarch;  and  what  would  be  a  theft  in 
other  poets  is  only  victory  in  him." 

§  4.  Internal  evidence  of  date,  in   questions  of    Shakespearian 
criticism,  is  derived  chiefly  from  three  classes  of  facts,  which  differ 
much   in   definiteness  and   in   cogency:   facts   of      ,^  jntemai 
metre,  of  style,  and  of  construction.    Metrical  facts       Evidence 
are  the  most  definite  and  palpable  of  all  facts  of 

i  Richard  Grant  White  stated  (in  1859)  that  a  second  edition  of  Daniel's  Civil  Wars 
came  out  in  1595;  "and  this  was  not  a  mere  reimpression  of  the  former,  as  appears  by 
a  comparison  of  the  two.  The  poem  had  been  carefully  revised  for  the  second  edition, 
though  it  was  of  the  same  date  as  the  first:  comparatively  few  stanzas  were  left  un- 
touched; many  were  rewritten;  several  were  omitted;  and  some  stanzas  which  appeared 
in  this  edition  were  then  printed  for  the  first  time.  Now  it  is  only  in  those  parts  of  the 
poem  which  had  been  rewritten  for  this  second  edition  of  1595,  or  which  were  newly 
written  for  it,  that  there  appears  any  resemblance  to  Shakespeare's  play  which  might 
not  be  justly  ascribed  to  chance  in  the  case  of  two  men  writing  in  the  language  of  the 
same  period  upon  the  same  subject,  and  going  for  their  facts  to  the  same  authority." 
[Vol.  vi,  p.  139.] 

Though  Richard  Grant  White  was  an  acute  and  erudite  editor,  these  statements, — 
repeated  by  many  subsequent  editors,  also  by  the  editor  of  the  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography,  apparently  without  further  investigation, —  are  misleading.  There  is  no 
reason  for  supposing  that  there  was  a  second  edition  in  1595.  The  second  edition,  a 
reprint  of  the  edition  of  1595,  was  published  in  1599  in  the  "  Poetical  Essays,"  which 
also  contains  Book  'Fyft.'  Some  copies  of  'The First  Fowre  Bookes '  (1595)  contain  a 
'Fift  Booke';  but  this  was  taken  from  the  edition  of  1599,  having  been  added  to  the 
remainder  of  the  1595  quarto  prior  to  the  publication  of  the  1599  quarto."  See 
Grosart's  edition  (1385),  vol.  ii,  pp.  2  and  215,  216.  In  the  editions  of  1609  and  1628, 
through  a  revision  and  redistribution  of  the  contents  of  the  second  and  third  books,  the 
Fift  Booke'  became  the  'Sixt  Booke.' 


xiv  KINT,  HICHARD  II 

literary  form.  The  variations  iu  a  pool's  use  of  rhyme  or  rhythm, 
of  pauses  or  double-endings,  can  be  observed  and  stated  with  u  good 
deal  of  pn-i  i~i'>n;  ami  where  these  variations  arc  known  to  have  pro- 
ceeded continuously,  in  the  same  direction,  they  give  u.s  a  due  to  the 
flali-  of  any  doubtful  work.  Kvcnwhen  wedo  not  know  this.  Itut  only 
that  there  is  a  broad  difference  lietwt-en  his  earlier  and  his  later  prac- 
tice, we  obtain  a  presumption  as  to  the  date  of  work  that  in  metrical 
character  approaches  either  extreme.  Now  there  are  four  point  s  of 
metre  in  which  Shakespeare's  earlier  and  later  practice  are  wholly  un- 
like or  even  diametrically  opposed.  These  are  (i)  rh  nine,  which  steadily 
.liminishes,  from  litre's  Labour's  Loul,  in  which  it  occurs  in  62.2 
verses  out  of  every  l(K),  to  A  Winter's  Tale,  in  which  it  occurs  in  none; 
(\'\)  double  or  feminine  ending.*,1  which  increase  from  /  Henri/  I' I; 
8.2  per  cent,  to  The  Tempest,  .'Jo. 4  per  cent;  (in)  run-on  line.*  (includ- 
ing light  and  tceak  endings),  which  increase  from  The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew,  8.1  per  cent,  to  Cymbeline,  46  JKT  cent;  (iv)  spcech-endingt 
not  coincident  with  Feme-ending.*  (i.e.  the  same  line  divided  between 
two  or  more  speakers),  which  incn-a.se  from  Henry  I' I,  1  speech  in 
200,  to  .4  Winter's  Tale,  87.6  in  100.* 

These  tests  are  obviously  not  of  equal  value.  The  use  of  rhyme, 
in  particular,  as  essentially  delil>erate  and  conscious,  inevitably 
underwent  fluctuations.  "We  can  perceive  that  Shakespeare  delib- 
erately employs  rhyme  for  certain  definite  pnrjMJses.  It  would  be  an 
error  to  conclude  that  A  Midsummer  Right's  Dream  preceded  The 
Comedy  of  Errors  because  it  contains  a  larger  proportion  of  rhyming 
lines,  until  we  had  first  decided  whether  s|x»cial  incentives  to  rhyme 
did  not  exist  in  the  case  of  that  comedy  of  Fairyland." 

So  again,  the  'double-ending  test*  is  of  little  use  to  us  in  studying 
the  first  half  of  his  career;  since  it  is  pretty  evident  that,  during  this 
time,  he  made  experiments,  admitting  double-endings  now  more  and 
now  less  freely,  and  only  after  1600  settling  down  into  a  growing 
habituation  to  their  rich  and  varied  effects.  Thus  the  two  parts  of 
Henri/  IV  were  no  doubt  written  in  immediate  succession:  but  the 
1622  blank  verses  of  the  First  contain  83,  the  1417  of  the  Second, 
230  feminine  endings. 


and  Thorndike,  pp.  69-75. 

1  The  numbers  lire  taken  from  the  computation  of  Goswin  Konig,  in  his  Drr  I'm  in 
Shake* prarc't  Dramrn  Cjueilcn  and  Forxhungrn,  Ixi;  Trubner,  1888).  These  statis- 
tics, though  valuable,  need  careful  revision. 

1  Dowden,  Shaktprrt  Primer,  p.  45.  The  whole  of  this  pajfc  should  U  curcfullj 
studied. 


INTRODUCTION  TV 

The  value  of  test  (iv)  is  somewhat  diminished  by  the  relative 
scantiness  of  the  material  on  which  it  is  based, — the  figures  here 
denoting  speeches  not  lines.  But  both  (iii)  and  (iv)  are  superior  to  the 
others  in  being  far  less  liable  to  vary  with  the  variations  of  subject- 
matter.  They  are  traits  of  expression,  like  the  habitual  pitch  or  key 
of  a  speaker's  voice;  not  means  of  expression,  like  his  use  of  emphasis 
or  accent. 

The  four  tests  may  then  be  dealt  with  in  two  ways.  We  may 
reduce  the  risk  of  error  by  taking  their  collective  evidence,  or  we  may 
consult  the  more  trustworthy  tests  alone.  Neither  plan  can  yield 
more  than  a  presumption;  but  a  presumption  multiplied  a  certain 
number  of  times  becomes  a  formidable  argument.  The  following 
table  gives  the  results  of  the  tests  as  applied  to  the  English  Histories, 
and  also,  for  convenience  of  comparison,  to  Romeo  and  Juliet.  Henry 
VIII,  as  being  of  a  much  later  time,  and  only  in  part  Shakespeare's, 
is  neglected.  The  plays  are  arranged  in  the  order  that  results  from  the 
collective  evidence  of  the  tests.  It  will  be  seen  that  this  closely  cor- 
responds with  the  evidence  of  (iii),  the  most  trustworthy,  taken 
alone  — 


(1  H.  6) 

«,3H.  6  R.  3  (R.andJ.)    K.  J.      R.  * 

1H.4  2H.4 

H.5 

Test 

i. 

10.0 

3.2 

3.5 

17.2 

4.5 

18.6 

2.7 

2.9 

3.2 

« 

ii. 
iii. 
iv. 

8.2 
10.4 
0.5 

1  13.7 
10.5 
1.0 

19.5 
13.1 
2.9 

8.2 
14.2 
14.9 

6.3 
17.7 
12.1 

11 
19.9 
7.3 

5.1 

22.8 
14.2 

16.3 
21.4 
16.8 

20.5 
21.8 
18.3 

The  evidence  of  metre  then  affords  a  double  presumption  that 
Richard  II  falls  between  Richard  III  and  1  Henry  IV.  It  also  en- 
titles us  to  urge  that  the  extraordinary  abundance  of  rhyme,  nowhere 
approached  in  Shakespeare's  other  Histories,  marks  a  deliberate 
experiment  and  not  a  phase  of  growth.  Those,  moreover,  who  place 
our  play  before  Richard  III,  because  it  contains  about  five  times  as 
much  rhyme,  are  bound  to  place  it  also  before  such  obviously  im- 
mature plays  as  the  second  and  third  parts  of  Henry  VI,  which  con- 
tain still  less  rhyme  than  Richard  III.  How  such  a  "deliberate  ex- 
periment" may  be  accounted  for  we  shall  see  presently. 

§  5.  Richard  II  is  conspicuous  among  the  Histories  for  a  certain 
rhetorical  ingenuity  of  style,  a  lavish  use  of  point  .  „  . 

and  epigram,  which,  like  its  wealth  of  rhymes,  can 
be  paralleled  only  in  the  early  comedies,  and  perhaps  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet. 

This  quality,  however,  instead  of  being  equally  diffused  through- 
out the  play,  is  principally  concentrated  in  the  speech  of  two  charac- 


xvi  KING  RICHARD  II 

UTS  —  Richard  and  Gaunt.  It  is  a  dramatic  artifice  rather  th«n  an 
involuntary  trait  of  style.  Shakespeare  has  made  a  certain  delight  in 
epigrammatic  word-play  characteristic  of  both.  Such  a  habit  accords 
obviously  enough  with  Richard's  other  traits  —  with  his  brilliant  but 
puerile  fancy,  with  his  boyish  turn  of  mind  in  general.  It  purpriset 
more  perhaps  in  the  ripe  and  "time-honoured"  Lancaster;  but  that 
Shakespeare  used  it  deliberately  is  even  clearer  in  his  case  than  in 
Richard's.  "Can  sick  men  play  so  nicely  with  their  names?"  the 
dying  Gaunt  is  asked,  as  he  pauses  in  his  string  of  bitter  jests.  "No, 
misery  makes  sport  to  mock  itself,"  is  his  reply.  Throughout  Gaunt's 
part  verbal  epigram  is  made  to  contribute  to  express  the  deep  and 
eloquent  passion  of  his  nature,  just  as  in  Richard  it  gives  point  to  hi* 
facile  fancy.  It  is  a  mark  of  Shakespeare's  middle  period  thus  to 
discriminate  character  by  the  aid  of  distinctions  of  style  in  verae.  In 
his  early  work  all  drawing  of  character  is  comparatively  broad  and 
superficial;  in  his  later,  the  effect  is  got  rather  by  profound  insight 
into  men's  thoughts  and  feelings  themselves,  than  by  nice  imitation 
of  their  modes  of  utterance.  While,  however,  the  style  of  Richard  II 
is  by  no  means  that  of  a  very  early  play,  it  stands  clearly  apart 
from  that  of  the  later  histories.  The  blank  verse,  though  often  sin- 
gularly eloquent,  has  still  a  touch  of  constraint,  of  symmetrical 
stateliness,  of  art  not  wholly  at  ease;  while  that  of  1  Henry  IV  has  a 
breadth  and  largeness  of  movement,  an  unsought  greatness  of  manner, 
which  mark  the  consummate  artist  who  no  longer  dons  his  singing 
robes  when  he  sings. 

§  C.  The  immense  variety  of  subjects  that  Shakespeare  handled, 
and  the  (after  all)  limited  number  of  his  plays,  make  it  much  harder 

to  detect  the  changes  in  his  method  of  construc- 
ts) Construction  . 

tion  than  the  changes  in  his  metre  or  his  style. 

We  can  rarely  be  quite  sure  that  a  change  which  seems  due  to  riper 
art  is  not  prompted  by  difference  of  subject.  The  nearest  approach 
to  criteria  of  such  change  is  the  following.  (1)  In  the  early  comedies 
there  is  an  evident  delight  in  symmetry  of  plan  (as  in  the  three  lords 
and  three  ladies  of  L- ire's  Labour's  Lost,  the  two  pairs  of  twins  in 
The  Comedy  of  Errors;  cf.  Dowden,  p.  38).  (2)  In  the  Histories  there 
is  a  growing  emancipation  from  two  influences  —  that  of  historical 
tradition,  and  that  of  his  great  contemporary  Marlowe.  Let  us 
examine  Richard  II  from  these  two  points  of  view. 

(a)  As  will  be  seen  more  in  detail  in  the  next  section,  Richard  II 
is  conspicuous  for  its  close  agreement  with  the  Chronicle.  The 
deliberate  variations  are  insignificant,  and  there  is  no  approach  to 
the  free  and  prodigal  invention  that  produced  the  Falstaff  scenes  of 
Henry  IV,  though  the  tradition  of  "the  skipping  kino."  who  "ambled 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

up  and  down  With  shallow  jesters  and  rash  bavin  wits,"  l  provided 
an  opening  for  them.  But  this  close  agreement  must  not  be  con- 
founded with  servility  such  as  we  find  in  much  of  Henry  VI.  If 
Shakespeare  here  follows  history  closely,  it  is  because  history  happens 
to  provide  him  with  what  he  wants^  If  he  does  not  materially  alter 
what  he  takes,  it  is  because  he  has  carefully  selected  what  did  not 
need  to  be  materially  altered.  It  is  significant  that,  though  the  play 
is  called  Richard  II,  it  deals  not  with  the  reign,  but  only  with  the 
catastrophe  which  closed  it  —  a  single  event  of  absorbing  interest, 
that  gives  the  play  a  classical  unity  of  effect  quite  foreign  to  the  tumul- 
tuous complexity  of  the  previous  histories.  A  contemporary  dram- 
atist had,  as  we  shall  see,  made  a  Richard  II  on  the  older  plan  —  a 
chronicle  history  in  which  the  exciting  events  of  the  former  part  of 
the  reign  are  crowded  together.  One  trace  only  survives  in  Shake- 
speare's play  of  the  earlier,  cruder  method  —  the  scenes  in  the  fifth 
act  relating  to  Aumerle's  conspiracy  —  a  somewhat  irrelevant  appen- 
dix to  the  essential  action  of  the  drama.  This  criterion,  therefore, 
so  far  as  it  goes,  supports  the  view  that  the  play  falls  between 
Richard  III  and  1  Henry  IV. 

(6)  The  relation  of  Richard  II  to  the  influence  of  Marlowe  throws 
a  more  definite  light  upon  its  date.  In  2  and  3  Henry  VI  Shakespeare 
was  perhaps  his  coadjutor,  in  Richard  III  he  Edward  11  and 
wrote  under  the  spell  of  his  genius;  in  Henry  IV  Richard  II 
he  is  entirely  himself.  Richard  II  is.  the  work  of  a  man  who  has  broken 
decisively  with  the  Marlowesque  influence,  but  yet  betrays  its  recent 
hold  upon  him,  partly  by  violent  reaction  and  partly  by  involuntary 
reminiscence.  In  Richard  III  he  had  treated  a  subject  of  Marlowesque 
grandeur  and  violence  in  the  grandiose  manner  of  Marlowe;  in  the 
story  of  Richard  II  there  was  little  scope  for  such  treatment.  Mar- 
lowe had  himself,  however,  in  Edward  II  shown  how  powerfully  he 
could  handle  the  tragedy  of  royal  weakness;  and  the  resemblance  of 
subject  throws  into  strong  relief  the  different  methods  of  the  two 
dramatists.  Marlowe  has  woven  all  the  available  material  into  a 
plot  full  of  stirring  incident  and  effective  situations,  extending  in 
time  from  Edward's  accession  to  his  death.  Shakespeare,  as  we  have 
seen,  has  isolated  a  single  momentous  event  from  the  story  of 
Richard's  reign,  and  treated  it  with  a  severity  and  repose  quite 
foreign  to  Marlowe.  Edward's  infatuation  for  his  favourites  is  made, 
with  extraordinary  effect,  the  ground  of  his  ruin;  those  of  Richard 
appear  for  a  moment  like  shadows  in  his  train,  but  have  no  sen- 
sible influence  upon  his  destiny.  The  grim  horror  of  Edward's  end 

*1  Henry  IV,  iii.  2.  60. 


<viii  KIM;  RICHARD  ii 

is  brought  before  us  with  appalling  and  remorseless  power;  but 
Shakesfx'are  aeems  to  avn'nl  the  obvious  and  facile  pathos  of  physical 
Huffrring.  He  gives  u«  the  prolonged  agony  of  the  deposition,  and  the 
brief  emotion  of  the  parting  with  his  queen,  but  he  adds  a  touch  of 
heroic  dignity  to  his  death.  Edward's  queen  is  an  active,  though 
secret,  agent  in  his  ruin;  Richard's  (a  child  in  reality)  is  used  by 
Shakespeare  in  a  quite  un-Marlowesque  way  to  bring  home  to  us  by 
her  devotion  his  personal  charm.  How  6ne,  yet  how  different,  are 
the  strokes  of  pathos  which  these  two  relationships  arc  made  to 
evoke!  Richard's  queen  waiting  in  the  street  for  the  fallen  king  to 
pass  on  his  way  to  the  Tower  — 

"But  soft,  but  see,  or  rather  do  not  w* 
My  f»ir  rose  wither": 

Kdward,  from  his  reeking  dungeon,  covered  with  filth,  unnerved  by 
hunger  and  sleeplessness,  sending  that  last  message  to  his  queen  — 

"  Trll  Isabel  the  aueen  I  looked  not  thus. 
When  for  her  sake  I  ran  at  tilt  in  France, 
And  there  unhors'd  the  Duke  of  Cleremont." 

Iii  a  word,  while  Marlowe  seeks  intrinsically  powerful  situations  and 
brings  out  their  power  by  bold  and  energetic  rather  than  subtle 
strokes,  Shakespeare  chooses  incidents  the  tragic  quality  of  which 
has  to  be  elicited  and  disclosed  by  delicate  character-painting.  Into 
this  he  has  thrown  all  his  genius;  in  this  lie  the  worth  and  distinction 
of  a  drama  that  in  wealth  of  interest  and  in  harrowing  power  by  no 
means  equals  Marlowe's  dramatic  masterpiece. 

Richard  II  was,  then,  not  the  work  of  a  disciple  of  Marlowe;  it 
bears  the  marks  of  decisive  reaction  from  his  influence.  That  it  is 
not  free  from  occasional  reminiscences  will  appear  in  the  Notes.1 
It  is  difficult,  then,  to  resist  the  conclusion  that  it  was  written  later 
than  Richard  111. 

§  7.  To  sum  up  this  somewhat  complicated  discussion,  the  evi- 
dence of  metre  points  to  a  date  between  Richard  III  and  1  TJenry  IV; 
-  that  of  style  is  at  least  compatible  with  this  po- 

sition; that  of  construction  hardly  admits  of  any 
other.  Now  Richard  III  is  with  a  high  degree  of  certainty  assigned 
to  the  year  1593;  1  Henry  IV  to  1597.  This  leaves  us  with  159S-5  at 
a  period  within  which  Richard  II  almost  certainly  falls.  Scholars  of 
two  or  three  generations  ago  assigned  the  play  to  1594-5  (White) 
or  1597  (Knight);  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago,  159S-4  seemed 
more  probable.  Scholars  of  today  regard  1595  as  the  most  probable 
date,  because  of  the  possible, — or  probable, — influence  upon  Shake- 

1  Cf.  especially  notes  to  Act  IT. 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

speare  of  Daniel's  Civil  Wars  (entered  at  the  Stationers'  Register 
in  November,  1594,  published  in  1595).1  A  judgment  based  solely 
upon  verse,  style,  and  construction,  would  decide  upon  1593  or 
1594  as  the  date  of  composition.  The  palpably  greater  maturity  of 
1  Henry  IV  (1597)  indicates  an  interval  of  as  much  as  two  years 
between  the  writing  of  the  two  plays.  A  sufficient  reason  for  the 
anomalies  of  metre  and  style  is  that  in  abandoning  Marlowe's  methods 
in  construction,  Shakespeare  adopted  also  with  some  energy  the 
rhymed  verse  which  Marlowe  had  eschewed,  but  in  which  his  own 
triumphs  had  been  won. 

III.    THE  SOURCE  OF  THE  INCIDENTS. 

§  8.  Shakespeare  drew  the  materials  for  this,  as  for  the  other 
English  Histories,  in  the  main  from  the  Chronicle  of  Holinshed, 
apparently  from  the  second  edition  (1587),  which  alone  contains 
a  detail  used  in  ii.  4,  8  (see  note).  A  slight  detail  here  and  there  is 
perhaps  due  to  Holinshed's  predecessor,  Edward  Halle.  The  picture 
of  Mowbray's  career  in  Palestine  (iv.  1,  97)  may  be  an  expansion  of 
a  hint  in  Stowe's  Annals  (1580;  reprinted  in  1592).  The  committal 
of  the  bishop  of  Carlisle  to  the  custody  of  the  Abbot  of  Westminster 
was  derived  from  some  unknown  source.  One  or  two  details  that 
appear  to  be  based  upon  the  narrative  in  Lord  Berners'  translation 
(1525)  of  volume  ii  of  Froissart's  Chronicles  are  indicated  in  the  notes 
on  iv,  1,  240  and  V,  v,  72-94. 

Three  plays,  lost  or  little  known,  dealt  with  the  earlier  years  of 
the  reign  of  Richard  II.  (1)  A  short  play  on  The  Life  and  Death  oj 
Jack  Straw2  treats  only  the  Peasants'  Revolt  of  1381.  (2)  The  diary 
of  Dr.  Simon  Forman  records  the  performance  at  the  Globe  Theatre 
of  a  lost  play  on  Richard  II,  and  gives  an  outline  of  the  plot.3  This 
play  also  included  Wat  Tyler's  revolt,  and  plottings  of  John  of  Gaunt 
and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  not  found  in  Shakespeare's  play. 

1  See  Note,  p.  xiii.  "These  [variations] .  .  .  appear  all  sufficient  to  warrant  the  con- 
clusion that  when  Daniel  first  published  the  Civil  Wars  in  1595  Shakespeare's  Richar:/ 
the  Second  had  not  been  produced;  but  that -previous  to  the  publication  of  the  second 
edition  of  the  lormer  in  the  same  year,  the   historical  play  had  made  its  appearance 
and  left  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  Daniel.    We  may  therefore  safely  place  the 
composition  of  Richard  the  Second  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1594  or  the  beginning 
of  1595."  (Richard  Grant  White's  Shakespeare,  vol.  vi,  p.  142.) 

Although  there  was  no  second  edition  of  the  Ctrl'/  Wars  in  1595,  and  although  it  is 
probable  that  Shakespeare  was  influenced  by  Daniel's  poem,  both  in  Richard  _//  and 
in  1  Henry  IV,  yet  Richard  Grant  White  was  probably  as  nearly  right  as  an  editor  can 
be  in  assigning  the  play  to  1595.  As  occasionally  happens  in  mathematical  com- 
putations, one  error  in  reckoning  offsets  a  previous  error,  so  that,  notwithstanding 
errors,  a  correct  result  is  obtained. 

2  Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  vol.  v. 

*  Truntactioni  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  1875-fl,  part'ii.  appendix,  pp.  415,  416 


u  KING  RICHARD  II 

(3)  In  1870  James  O.  Phillips  printed  privately  from  a  manuscript 
in  the  British  Museum  eleven  copies  of  a  play  (lacking  title)  that  is 
sometimes  termed  The  Tragedy  of  Woodstock.  This  play  covers  the 
fifteen  years  from  the  marriage  of  Richard  II  to  Anne  of  Kohemia, 
and  deals  chiefly  with  the  struggle  between  the  king  with  his  favorites 
and  his  uncles  and  their  followers.  In  Act  v  the  ghosts  of  the  Black 
Prince  and  Edward  III  vainly  warn  the  sleeping  Gloucester  of  the 
plottings  of  King  Richard,  whose  instrument  is  I.apoole,  governor 
of  Calais,  not  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  as  in  Shakespeare's  play.  The 
fifth  act,  which  is  incomplete,  leaves  King  Richard  in  the  power  of 
his  uncle,  John  of  Gaunt,  and  the  hostile  lords.  This  play  was  pub- 
lished in  the  Shakespeare  Jahrbuch  for  1899  (vol.  xxxv,  pp.  44-121). 
The  editor,  Wolfgang  Keller,  dates  the  play  earlier  than  Shake- 
speare's Richard  11, — in  fact,  he  calls  it  1  Richard  II;  but  neither 
he  nor  any  careful  student  believes  that  Shakespeare  had  a  hand  in 
this  anonymous  play,  though  he  may  have  been  acquainted  with  it. 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Shakespeare  knew  more  of  the 
history  of  Richard  than  he  found  in  these  books.  We  have,  therefore, 
in  studying  the  origin,  of  the  play,  to  take  note  solely  of  his  way  of 
handling  the  story  as  they  tell  it.  If  their  story  diverge*  from  his- 
tory, and  he  follows  them,  the  fact  may  be  important  for  the  his- 
torical student,  but  has  only  a  secondary  interest  for  the  student  of 
Shiikespeare.1 

As  already  stated,  none  of  the  Histories  diverges  so  slightly  fron 
Holinshfd  as  Richard  II.  The  process  of  converting  shadows  into 
living  and  breathing  men  has  involved  very  little  change  of  outline. 
The  actual  divergences  fall  under  three  heads:  alterations  of  time  and 
place,  —  alterations  affecting  character.  —  new  characters  and  new 
incidents. 

§  9.  The  first  class  of  divergences  is  inevitable  in  any  dramatic 
treatment  of  history.  What  we  think  of  as  a  single  historical  event  is 

Divergences:  (l)     commonly  made  up  of  a  crowd  of  minor  incidents 

Time  and  Place  happening  in  different  places  and  on  different  days. 
The  dramatist  concentrates  them  into  a  single  continuous  act.2  In 
Richard  II  there  are  several  instances  of  this  procedure,  of  which  the 
following  are  the  most  important.  Other  instances  are  pointed  out  in 
the  Notes. 

(a)  i.  3.  Bolingbroke's  leave-taking  and  the  partial  remission  of  his 

1  The  most  ini[>ortant  divergences  from  history  are,  however,  printed  in  the  Notes 
lo  Dramatis  Personie. 

1  Shake^i/eare's  liberties  with  time  (elsewhere  far  greater)  have  the  hiehest  critical 
Approval.  Cf.  Goethe's  proverbial  saying  "Den  Porten  bindrt  krint  Zeit  (the  poet  ii 
not  fettered  by  time),  fautt.  part  ii.  act  i;  and  elsewhere,  still  more  strongly:  "all 
that  survives  of  true  poetry  lives  and  breathes  only  in  anachronisms." 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

sentence  immediately  follow  the  sentence  itself.  Holinshed  makes  him 
take  leave  of  the  king  later,  at  Eltham,  and  there  receive  the  remission 
of  four  years. 

(6)  ii.  2.  The  death  of  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester  is  anticipated,  in 
order  apparently  to  add  to  the  helpless  embarrassment  of  York  (cf.  ii. 
2.  98  f.). 

(c)  iii.  2.  The  surrender  of  Flint  Castle  to  Northumberland  is  re- 
tarded; see  note. 

(d)  iv.  1.  The  events  of  three  separate  meetings  of  Parliament  are 
combined  in  one  great  sitting,  and  also  taken  in  a  different  order. 

(e)  v.  2.  Richard's  and  Bolinghroke's  entry  into  London  are  made 
part  of  the  same  pageant.    In  Holinshed  they  occur  on  successive 
days. 

(/)  We  may  include  under  this  head  certain  trifling  alterations  of 
age.  Thus  Prince  Henry  (v.  3)  is  clearly  meant  to  be  beyond  his 
actual  age  (12). 

To  give  a  clearer  idea  of  Shakespeare's  procedure,  the  student 
should  carefully  compare  with  Act  iv  the  passage  from  Holinshed  re- 
ferred to  in  (d).  We  quote  from  the  extracts  made  by  the  Clarendon 
Press  Editors  from  the  first  edition  (1578)1:  — 

"'There  was  also  contemned  in  the  sayde  Bill,  that  Bagot  had 
heard  the  Duke  of  Aumarle  say,  that  he  had  leauer  than  twentie 
thousand  pounds  that  the  Duke  of  Hereforde  were  dead,  not  for  any 
feare  hee  had  of  him,  but  for  the  trouble  and  myschiefe  that  hee  was 
like  to  procure  within  the  realme. 

"'After  that  the  Byll  had  beene  read  and  heard,  the  Duke  of  Au- 
marle rose  vp  and  sayde,  that  as  touching  the  poynts  conteyned  in  the 
bill  concerning  him,  they  were  vtterly  false  and  vntrue,  which  he 
would  proue  with  his  body,  in  what  manor  soeuer  it  should  be 
thought  requisit.  .  .  . 

"'This  was  on  a  Thursday  being  the  .xv.  of  October. 

" '  On  the  Saterday  next  ensuing, .  .  .  the  Lord  Fitz  Water  herewith 
rose  vp,  and  sayd  to  the  king,  that  where  the  duke  of  Aumarle  excus- 
eth  himself  of  the  duke  of  Gloucesters  death,  I  say  (quoth  he)  that  he 
was  the  very  cause,  of  his  death,  and  so  hee  appealed  him  of  treason 
offring  by  throwing  downe  his  hoode  as  a  gage  to  proue  it  with  his 
bodie.  There  were  .xx.  other  Lordes  also  that  threw  downe  their 
hoodes,  as  pledges  to  proue  ye  like  matter  against  the  duke  of  Au- 
marle. 

" '  The  Duke  of  Aumarle  threwe  downe  hys  hoode  to  trie  it  agaynst 

1  The  text  of  the  second  edition  (1587),  that  used  by  Shakespeare  is  «?iven  in  Shaket- 
peare's  Holinshed:  the  chronicle  and  the  hiitorical  plays  compared.  1896.  Edited  by 
W.  G.  Bos  well-Stone. 


<xii  KING  RICHARD  U 

(he  Lonli;  Pitz Water,  a*  agaynst  him  that  lye<i  falsly,  in  that  h«e 
charged  him  with,  by  that  his  appeale.  These  gages  were  deliuered  to 
the  Conestabltf  and  Marshal  uf  England,  and  the  parties  put  vnd«r 
arrett. 

'"The  Duke  of  Surrey  stood  vp  also  agaynst  the  L.  Fitzwater, 
auouching  that  where  he  had  sayd  that  the  appellants  were  cause  of 
y*  duke  of  Gloucesters  death,  it  was  false,  for  they  were  constreyned 
to  sue  t  !i--  same  appeale,  in  like  manner  as  the  sayd  Lorde  FitzWater 
was  compel!. -.1  to  gyuc  iudgement  against  the  duke  of  CJlocester,  and 
the  Earle  uf  Amu. I.  II.  so  that  the  suing  of  the  appeale  was  done  by 
cohertion.  and  if  he  sayd  contrary  he  lied:  and  therewith  he  threw 
< (own  his  hood. 

"'The  Lorde  FitzWater  answered  herevnto,  that  he  was  not  pres- 
ent in  the  Parliament  house  when  iudgement  was  giuen  against  them, 
and  al  the  Lordes  bear  witnesse  thereof. 

" '  Morouer,  where  it  was  alledged  that  the  duke  of  Aumarle  should 
send  two  of  his  seruants  vnto  Calais,  to  murther  the  duke  of  Glouces- 
ter, y*  sayd  duke  of  Aumarle  said,  that  if  the  duke  of  Norffolk 
affyrme  it,  he  lyed  falsly,  and  that  he  would  proue  with  his  bodie, 
throwing  downe  an  other  hoode  which  he  had  borrowed. 

"'The  same  was  likewise  deliuered  to  the  Conestable  and  Marshall 
of  England,  and  the  king  licenced  the  Duke  of  Norffolke  to  returne, 
f.hat  hee  might  arraigne  his  appeale.' 

"  The  speech  of  the  Hishop  of  Carlisle  was  delivered  on  the  Wednes- 
day next  after  these  events,  and  under  the  circumstances  mentioned 
in  the  note  on  iv.  1.  114.  The  following  is  Holinshed's  version  of  it: 
4  Wherevpon  the  Ilishop  of  Carleil,  a  man  both  learned,  wise,  &  stoute 
of  stomake,  boldly  shewed  forth  his  opinion  concerning  that  de- 
inaunde,  affyrming  that  there  was  none  amongst  them  worthie  or 
:neete  to  giue  iudgement  vpon  so  noble  a  prince  as  king  Richard  was, 
whom  they  had  taken  for  their  soueraigne  and  liege  Lorde,  by  the 
space  of  .xxij.  yea  res  and  more,  and  I  assure  you  (sayd  he)  there  is 
not  so  ranke  a  traytor,  nor  sc  errant  a  theef,  nor  yet  so  cruell  a  mur- 
therer  apprehended  or  deteyned  in  prison  for  his  offence,  but  bee 
shall  be  brought  before  the  Justice  to  heare  his  iudgement,  and  ye  will 
proceede  to  the  iudgement  of  an  annoynted  K.  hearing  neither  his 
unswere  nor  excuse:  and  I  say,  that  the  duke  of  Lancaster  whom  ye 
•al  king,  hath  more  trespassed  to  king  Ric.  and  his  realme,  than  king 
Itichard  hath  done  either  to  him,  or  to  vs:  for  it  is  manifest  and  well 
knowne,  that  the  Duke  was  banished  the  realme  by  king  Richard  and 
his  counsayle,  and  by  the  iudgement  of  hys  owne  father,  for  the  space 
if  tenne  yeres,  for  what  cause  ye  know,  and  yet  without  licence  o! 
King  Richard,  he  is  returned  againe  into  the  Healrae,  and  that  i.« 


INTRODUCTION  niii 

iv*rse,  hath  taken  vpon  him,  the  name,  tytle,  and  preheminence  of  a 
King.  And  therefore  I  say,  that  yee  haue  done  manifest  wrong,  to 
proceede  in  anye  thing  agaynst  king  Richarde,  without  calling  him 
openly  to  his  aunswere  and  defence. 

'"As  soone  as  the  Bishop  had  ended  this  tale,  he  was  attached  by 
the  Earle  Marshal,  &  committed  to  warde  in  the  Abbey  of  S.  Albons.' " 

Shakespeare  is,  in  his  Histories,  far  more  chary  of  alterations  affect- 
ing character.  He  is  on  the  whole  true  to  the  principle  laid  down  by 
Lessing  in  a  classical  passage  1:  "How  far  may  the  (2)  Divergences 
poet  depart  from  historic  truth?  In  all  that  does  affecting  Character 
not  concern  the  characters,  as  far  as  he  pleases.  The  characters  alone 
are  sacred  in  his  eyes:  to  enforce  them,  to  put  them  in  the  most  telling 
light,  is  all  that  he  is  permitted  to  do.  The  smallest  essential  altera- 
tion would  remove  the  reason  for  which  he  gives  them  the  names  they 
bear."  Shakespeare  has  certainly  in  several  cases  filled  in  the  outlines 
of  tradition  with  singular  daring  and  freedom  (as  in  the  case  of  Rich- 
ard); but  there  seem  to  be  only  three  cases  in  which  he  has  deliber- 
ately departed  from  it. 

(a)  The  Queen.  As  a  child  of  nine  years,  the  queen  could  scarcely 
be  considered  as  a  historic  character.  In  making  her  a  woman  (though 
with  the  naive  ardour  of  girlhood  still  about  her)  Shakespeare  was 
rather  creating  a  new  character  than  modifying  an  old.  This  marked 
divergence  from  historical  fact  also  occurs  in  Daniel's  Civil  Wars 
(1595),  n,  66  and  other  stanzas.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  the  por- 
trayal of  character  by  Shakespeare  is  far  more  effective  than  that  by 
Daniel,  or  that  it  was  his  practice  from  a  hint  or  a  suggestion,  —  as 
in  the  case  of  Lady  Macbeth,  —  to  develop  a  clearly-drawn  character. 

(6)  Mowbray.  The  character  of  Mowbray  is  somewhat  obscure  in 
Holinshed,  and  Shakespeare  has  not  made  it  wholly  clear.  Yet  he 
handles  him  on  the  whole  more  favourably  than  the  chronicler.  His 
reply  to  Bolingbroke's  charge  of  treason  in  Holinshed  contains  two 
weak  points:  he  excuses  the  detention  of  state  money  with  a  bad  rea- 
son, viz.  that  the  king  was  in  his  debt;  and  he  ignores  altogether  the 
accusation  of  Gloucester's  murder.  Shakespeare  makes  him  plead 
that  he  had  the  king's  warrant  for  the  former  act,  and  hint  vaguely 
that  he  had  it  for  the  second.  And  Shakespeare  throws  over  him  a 
glamour  of  chivalry  and  patriotism  that  wins  the  reader's  heart  foi 
him,  —  as  in  his  bitter  lament  over  his  banishment,  and  the  recital 
of  his  prowess  in  Palestine.  Moreoever,  we  are  not  allowed  to  see 
what  Shakespeare  himself  tells  us  in  Henry  IV,  that  Mowbray  was  a^ 
bitterly  hated  in  the  country  as  Bolingbroke  was  loved,  and  not  with 

1  Lessing:  Hamburgische  Dramaturge.  No.  txiii. 


*xir  KING  RICHARD  II 

out  deserving  it.  It  is  only  there  we  learn  (2  Henry  IV.  iv.  1.  1S4  f.) 
that  had  not  Mowbray  boon  banished  he  would  never  have  left  the 
lists  of  Coventry  alive.  Westmoreland  addresses  Mow  bray's  son:  — 

'But  if  your  father  bad  been  victor  there, 
He  ne'er  bad  borne  it  out  of  Coventry: 
For  all  t be  country  in  a  general  voice 
Cried  bate  uixm  him;  and  all  their  orayera  and  Ion 
Were  let  on  Hereford,  whom  they  doted  on 
And  bleu'd  and  graced  indeed,  more  than  the  king." 

The  effect,  and  probably  the  intention,  of  this  more  favourable  colour- 
ing of  Mowbray,  is  to  make  his  banishment  seem  still  more  wanton 
and  arbitrary. 

(c)  daunt.  With  scarcely  any  deviation  from  definite  historical 
fact  (except  hi  the  addition  noticed  below),  the  whole  complexion  of 
Gaunt's  character  is  nevertheless  changed.  A  self-seeking,  turbulent, 
and  far  from  patriotic  politician  is  exalted  into  an  embodiment  of  the 
love  of  country  in  its  noblest  form;  —  into  the  voice  through  which 
England  speaks.  The  old  play  seen  by  Forman  (§8  above)  was  in  this 
respect  truer  to  history.  Shakespeare  took  a  more  defensible  course 
in  King  John,  in  which  English  patriotism  is  embodied  with  less  real 
violence  to  history,  in  the  subordinate  figure  of  Faulconbridge. 

The  gardener  and  his  servant  (iii.  4)  and  the  groom  (v.  5)  are  new 

M      rhirajim  characters.   The  first  two  show  us  how  the  people 

regard  the  crisis;  and  tend  to  justify  Bolingbroke's 

intervention.    The  groom  adds  to  our  sense  of  Richard's  personal 

charm  and  to  the  pathos  of  his  lonely  fate. 

The  most  important  new  incidents  are  the  great  death-scene  of 
Gaunt  (ii.  1),  and  the  still  greater  deposition-scene  of  Richard  (iv.  1). 
...  Both  are  superb  examples  of  imaginative  crea- 

tion within  the  lines  of  historical  tradition;  for 
though  neither  happened,  both  realize  and  embody  the  very  spirit  of 
that  which  did  actually  occur.  They  give  us  the  soul  of  the  story, 
that  inner  truth  which  the  facts  left  unexpressed. 

While  Shakespeare  has  thus  altered  comparatively  little  in  his 
record,  he  has  omitted  points  in  it  which  to  the  modern  student  of 

history  seem  highly  important.    Such  a  student 
Omissions  c      e  / 

wonders  to  find  no  reference  to  the  process  by 

which  Richard  had  acquired  the  despotic  power  that  he  is  found  exer- 
cising from  the  first:  to  the  packed  parliament  of  Shrewsbury  (1398). 
to  the  nomination  by  it  of  the  Council  of  his  own  partisans  which 
thenceforth  virtually  assumed  the  functions  of  parliament.  He  won- 
ders, too,  to  find  Gloucester's  murder  used  as  one  of  the  chief  motives 
of  the  action  without  a  hint  of  the  causes  that  provoked  it.  But 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

Shakespeare  thought  little  of  parliamentary  functions ;  and  it  is  not 
surprising  that  the  dramatist  who  gives  us  the  struggle  of  King  John 
and  his  Barons  without  a  word  of  Magna  Charta,  should  have  ignored 
the  sham  formalities  that  gave  a  show  of  legality  to  the  despotism  of 
Richard.  Nor  does  he  in  the  Histories  care  to  account  for  events  that 
lie  before  the  opening  of  the  drama,  any  more  than  to  account  for  the 
characters  exhibited  by  his  persons.  We  accept  Richard  as  we  accept 
Lear  or  Hamlet,  as  being  what  they  prove  to  be,  without  learning  how 
they  have  come  to  be  it.  The  obscurity  of  the  murder  of  Gloucester 
is  part  of  the  general  obscurity  in  which  Shakespeare  is  content  to 
leave  Richard's  early  career ;  —  or,  to  be  more  accurate,  it  is  one  of 
the  mass  of  antecedent  facts  which  he  could  take  for  granted  before  an 
audience  familiar  with  the  older  play. 

IV.  CRITICAL  APPRECIATION 

§  10.  In  the  last  section  we  have  attended  merely  to  the  points  in 
which  Shakespeare  as  a  dramatic  artist  actually  diverges  from  his 
source.  We  have  now  to  study  the  art  quality  of  the  play  as  a  whole. 
We  have  to  watch  the  artist  at  work,  to  note  where  his  imagination 
is  busy  and  where  it  rests,  which  parts  it  loads  with  poetic  gold,  and 
which  it  leaves  bare;  and  thus  to  arrive  at  his  interpretation  of  the 
story  he  tells,  and  his  intentions  in  telling  it.  Only  so  can  we  pretend 
to  judge  his  work. 

It  is  plain  that  the  imaginative  work  is,  to  an  unusual  degree  in 
Shakespeare,  unequal.  We  have  a  number  of  figures  which  did  not 
greatly  interest  him,  and  on  which  he  has  bestowed  little  pains.  The 
royal  favourites,  Bushy,  Green,  and  Bagot;  the  group  of  lords,  Surrey, 
Fitzwater,  Northumberland,  Percy,  Ross,  Willoughby,  Salisbury, 
Berkeley;  the  Abbot  and  Marshal;  Scroop  and  Exton;  and  the 
Duchesses  of  York  and  Gloucester,  are  either  mere  shadows  or  are 
defined  only  with  a  single  dominant  trait.  Aumerle,  Mowbray,  and 
Carlisle  stand  on  a  higher  plane  of  interest;  but  play  only  secondary 
or  futile  parts.  York  and  Gaunt  are  drawn  with  far  greater  refinement 
and  wealth  of  detail;  but  also  rather  enter  into,  than  compose,  the 
action.  Two  figures  stand  out  from  all  the  rest  both  by  their  supreme 
importance  in  the  story,  and  by  the  extraordinary  care  with  which 
they  are  wrought.  In  these  two  we  shall  probably  find  the  best  clue 
to  the  comprehension  of  the  whole. 

§111  The  character  of  Richard  is  only  gradually  disclosed.    No 
opening  monologue  announces  his  policy,  like  that          p-  .     , 
in  which  Richard  the  Third  sets  before  us  his  ap- 
palling program  of  evil  deeds.  Little  by  little  the  materials  for  judg- 


txvi  KING  RICHARD  II 

inir  him  are  brought  into  view;  and  this  reserve  i-  the  more  remark- 
.iblc.  since  no  previous  drama  of  Shake.speare's  had  led  up  to  this, 
a.i  Henry  VI  led  up  to  Richard  III  or  as  Richard  II  itself  was  to  lead 
up  to  Henru  II'.  Shakespeare  will  not  allow  us  to  prejudge  Richanl 
We  see  him  at  the  outset  in  the  situation  in  which  he  shows  to  most 
advantage  —  on  the  throne,  wearing  with  grace  and  ease  the  cere- 
monial dignity  of  kingship.  His  uuthoritativeness  is  not  yet  petulant, 
his  eloquence  not  yet  fantastic  or  trivial.  Presently  we  get  a  hint  ol 
rifts  in  this  melodious  lute,  but  the  hint  is  so  unobtrusive  as  to  be  eas- 
ily ignored.  First,  the  vague  suggestion  of  his  complicity  in  Glouces- 
ter's murder  (directly  asserted  only  in  i.  2);  then,  his  helplessness  be- 
fore the  strong  wills  of  Bolingbroke  and  Mowbray,  which  is  rather 
illustrated  than  disguised  by  the  skilful  phrase  with  which  he  covers 
his  retreat:  "We  were  not  born  to  sue,  but  to  command,"  (i.  1. 
196  f.).  The  third  scene  shows  him  at  once  arbitrarily  harsh  and 
xveakly  relenting.  In  the  fourth  we  get  the  first  glimpse  of  his  reckless 
misgovernment  of  the  country,  and  his  wanton  plundering  of  the 
rich  is  set  significantly  beside  Bolingbroke's  astute  courtesy  to  the 
poor;  both  causes  were  to  contribute  to  his  nun.  Yet,  as  we  have 
seen,  Shakespeare  refrains  from  picturing  Richard  even  here,  among 
his  favourites,  in  the  grossly  undignified  guise  that  he  wears  in  the 
scornful  recollection  of  Henry  IV.  On  the  contrary,  as  we  obtain  in- 
sight into  his  crimes  and  follies,  we  are  made  also  to  feel  his  beauty 
and  his  chnrm;  and  the  crowning  exposure  in  the  second  act,  in  which 
we  hear  of  Kngland  bartered  "like  to  a  tenement  or  pelting  farm," 
"the  commons  pill'd  with  grievous  taxes,  the  nobles  fined  for  ancient 
quarrels,"  and  where  all  this  ismade  credible  by  the  shameless  confis- 
cation of  Bolingbroke's  inheritance  before  our  eyes  —  this  terrible 
exposure  is  with  fine  tact  immediately  followed  by  the  pathetic 
picture  of  the  queen's  wistful  forebodings  for  her  'sweet  Richard'; 
while  York's  indignant  comparison  between  him  and  his  father,  the 
Black  Prince,  is  pointed  by  the  admission  that  outwardly  he  re- 
sembled that  paragon  of  English  chivalry  —  "His  face  thou  hast,  for 
even  so  look'd  he."  The  impression  is  enforced  with  strokes  of  brilliant 
imagery  throughout  the  play:  "the  fiery  discontented  sun,"  "yet 
looks  he  like  a  king,"  "  his  eye  as  bright  as  is  the  eagle's,"  " like  glister- 
ing Phaeton,"  "my  fair  rose  wither'd."  It  is  notable  too  that  the  pop- 
ular indignation  is  brought  into  prominence  only  at  a  later  stage,  when 
it  serves  to  quicken  pity  rather  than  resentment.  In  the  second  act  it 
is  a  hearsay;  in  the  third,  after  his  capture,  it  finds  expression  in  the 
sjrave  dialogue  of  the  gardener  and  his  servant;  in  the  fifth  (v.  2)  it 
l>ecomes  virulent  and  ferocious,  but  the  'dust  thrown  upon  his  sacred 
head*  by  the  London  mob  tempts  us  to  forget  in  the  sp<-ctaclt  of  hi* 


INTRODUCTION  nvii 

"gentle  sonow'  what  exceedingly  good  reason  London  had  for  throw- 
ing it.  His  re:urn  from  Ireland  (iii.  2)  discloses  a  new  aspect  of  his 
character,  which  belongs  essentially  to  Shakespeare's  imaginative 
reading  of  him.  Adversity,  to  use  a  favourite  Elizabethan  image, 
brings  out  the  perfume  of  his  nature:  only,  be  it  well  noted,  it  is  a  per- 
fume of  brain  and  fancy,  not  of  heart  and  conscience.  He  is  humili- 
ited,  dethroned,  imprisoned;  and  every  trifling  incident  serves  now 
as  a  nucleus  about  which  he  wreathes  the  beautiful  tangles  of  his  ara- 
besque wit;  but  he  shows  no  touch  of  true  remorse.  He  recognizes  his 
follies,  but  only  in  order  to  turn  them  into  agreeable  imagery.  His  own 
fate  preoccupies  him,  yet  chiefly  on  its  picturesque  side;  he  is  dazzled 
by  the  spectacle  of  his  own  tragedy.  He  sees  himself  as  'glistering 
Phaeton'  fallen  —  nay,  as  Christ,  whom  "you  Pilates  have  here  de- 
livered ...  to  my  sour  cross."  With  great  skill,  this  trait  is  made  to 
work  into  and  further  the  plot.  By  throwing  himself  into  the  role  of 
the  'fallen  king,'  he  precipitates  his  fall.  Yet  his  fall  itself,  tame  and 
unkingly  though  it  be,  acquires  distinction  and  dignity  from  the 
poetic  glamour  that  he  sheds  about  it.  His  eloquence  grows  more 
dazzling  as  his  situation  grows  more  hopeless.  In  the  essay  already 
quoted,  Walter  Pater  specially  emphasized  this  aspect  of  Richard  • — 
"an  exquisite  poet  if  he  is  nothing  else,1  .  .  .  with  a  felicity  of  poetic 
invention  which  puts  these  pages  (the  deposition  scene)  into  a  very 
select  class,  with  the  finest '  vermeil  and  ivory '  work  of  Chatterton  or 
Keats."  2  Yet  if  an  exquisite,  he  is  not  a  great,  poet.  Even  his  finest 
touches  such  as,  "A  brittle  plory  shineth  in  that  face,  As  brittle  as 
the  glory  is  the  face, "  are  not  laden  with  the  lightning  of  imagination 
that  penetrates  to  the  heart  of  thi  gs,  like  the  outbursts  of  Lear  or 
Hamlet;  they  are  beautiful  fancies  beautifully  phrased.  The  name 
dilettante,  felicitously  suggested  by  Kreyssig  *  and  adopted  by  Dow- 
den,  4  best  fits  his  literary  as  well  as  his  kingly  character.  He  is  a  dil- 
ettante in  poetry  as  well  as  in  kingship.  "Let  no  one  say,"  adds 
Kreyssig,  "that  a  gifted  artist-nature  goes  to  ruin  in  Richard:  the 
same  unbridled  fancy,  the  same  boundless  but  superficial  sensibility 
which  wrecks  the  king  would  also  have  ruined  the  poet." 

§  12.  In  bold  yet  subtle  contrast  to  Richard  is  his  rival  Boling 
broke.   He,  like  Richard,  is  only  gradually  disclosed  to  us;   a  series 

of  fine  touches  lets  us  see  by  degrees  the  man  he  is, 

,         ...  ,         v    j       •         XL  Bohngbroke 

and,  without  exactly  foreshadowing  the  sequel, 

makes  it  intelligible  when  it  comes.   From  the  first  he  imposes  by  a 

1  Pater:  Appreciation*,  p.  201. 

»  Ibid.,  p.  206. 

*  Kreyssig:   Vorlesungen  liber  SA.,  p.  19t. 

«  Shalctpere.  p.  195. 


xxviU  KING  RICHARD  U 

quiet  [><>\V.T,  which  pursues  its  ends  under  constitutional  forms,  know 
how  to  bide  its  time,  uses  violence  only  to  avenge  wrong,  and  carries 
out  a  great  revolution  with  the  air  of  accepting  a  position  left  vacant 
Nor  are  we  allowed  to  think  of  him  as  a  mere  usurper.  The  time  calls 
for  a  strong  king.  The  country,  exasperated  by  Richard's  mad  and 
lawless  rule,  is  ready  to  override  the  claims  of  legitimacy  if  it  can  get 
merit.  If  Bolinghroke  uses  the  needs  of  the  time  for  his  own  purpose, 
he  is  the  man  to  fulfil  them.  If  he  is  ambitious  to  rule,  there  is  in  him 
the  stuff  of  a  great  ruler.  The  state  of  England  is  'out  of  joint";  he  is 
the  man  to  'set  it  right.'  No  crime^intcrat  is  allowed  to  arise  in  regard 
to  him  such  as  from  the  first  fascinates  us  in  the  career  of  Richard  III. 
His  only  act  of  violence  is  to  sentence,  with  the  sternness  of  the  judge 
rather  than  of  the  conqueror,  the  favourites  of  Richard  to  the  death 
they  deserved.  His  first  act  as  king  is  to  inquire  into  the  murder  of 
Gloucester.  The  play  doses  upon  his  remorse  for  the  murder  he  had 
wished,  but  not  designed.  He  loves  England  too,  as  Gaunt,  as  Rich- 
ard, as  Mowbray,  love  it,  each  in  his  way.  If  he  does  not  waste  pre- 
cious time  after  landing,  like  Richard,  in  an  eloquent  address  to  hi- 
'dear  earth,'  his  brief  farewell,  as  he  goes  into  banishment,  to  the 
"sweet  soil,  my  mother  and  my  nurse,"  is  full  of  restrained  passion 
and  pathos.  Thus  Bolingbroke  blends  the  characters  of  the  ami  it  ion- 
adventurer  and  the  national  deliverer —  the  man  of  the  hour.  But, 
though  never  lacking  the  dignity  of  kingship,  he  wants  the  personal 
charm  of  Richard.  Richard  is  hated  by  the  people  he  misrules,  but 
captivates  his  intimates  —  from  the  queen  and  Aumerle  down  to  the 
unnamed  and  unseen  singer,  who  unbidden  makes  music  for  his  dis- 
port in  prison;  nay,  even  Bolingbroke  "loves  him,  dead."  Boling- 
broke himself,  on  the  contrary,  owes  his  popularity  partly  to  his  war- 
like prestige,  partly  to  a  deliberate  combination  of  habitual  reserve 
with  occasional  condescension.1 

§  13.  In  the  contrast  of  Richard  and  Bolingbroke  lies,  as  has  been 

said,  the  keynote  of  the  play.  Now  that  contrast  seems  to  be  worked 

Two  Aspects  of     out  from  two  points  of  view,  which  belong  to  dif- 

their  Contrast       ferent  phases  of  Shakespeare's  thought.  On  the  one 

1  Cf.  the  striking  passage  in  1  Henry  IV.  iii.  Z.  39  f.,  La  which  he  school*  the  prince 

in  the  proper  bearing  of  a  king  — 

"By  bring  seldom  seen,  I  could  rot  stir 
But  like  a  comet  I  was  wonder'd  at: 
That  men  would  tell  their  children,  'This  is  he'; 
Others  would  say,  '  Where?  which  is  Bolingbroker* 
And  then  I  stole  all  courtesv  from  Heaven, 
And  dress'd  myself  in  such  humility 
That  I  did  pluck  allegiance  from  men's  hearts. 
Lout)  shouts  and  salutations  from  their  mouthi. 
Even  in  the  presence  of  a  crowned  king." 

The  whole  of  this  speech  should  be  familiar  to  the  student  of  Richard  II. 


INTRODUCTION 


XXIX 


hand,  it  represents  the  struggle  between  two  opposite  political  prin- 
ciples —  kingship  by  inheritance  and  kingship  by  faculty  —  which 
has  several  times  involved  the  destinies  of  England.  It  reflects 
Shakespeare's  politi^l  thinking,  his  passion  or  his  country,  his  lov- 
ing study  of  her  ^ast.  On  the  other  hand,  it  represents  a  conflict 
between  two  antagonistic  types  of  soul,  the  rude  collision  of  fantastic 
inefficiency  with  practical  power — the  tragedy  of  a  royal  dilettante 
confronted  with  a  king.  It  reflects  Shakespeare's  growing  absorp- 
tion in  the  profound  study  of  human  character  and  in  the  vaster  issues 
of  life  that  lie  outside  the  domain  of  politics  and  country.  In  a  word, 
though  Richard  II  is  still  called  a  'History.'  it  is  history  shaping  itself 
toward  tragedy,  without  having  yet  lost  the  relation  to  political  issues 
and  to  historical  tradition  which  marks  Shakespeare's  English  histo- 
ries as  a  whole.  Let  us  look  at  the  play  more  closely  from  these  two 
points  of  view. 

§  14.  Regarded  as  a  'History,'  Richard  II  is  the  first  act  in  that 
greater  drama  closing  with  Richard  III,  of  which  it  has  been  aptly  said 
(1)  The  'History'  tna*  the  'hero'  is  not  any  English  king,  but  Eng- 
of  Richard  II  land.  In  so  far,  it  is  a  product  of  that  prolonged 
outburst  of  national  enthusiasm  which,  fed  from  many  sources,  was 
stimulated  to  the  highest  pitch  by  the  ruin  of  the  Armada,  and  among 
other  literary  fruit,  produced,  besides  Shakespeare's  great  series, 
Marlowe's  Edwird  II  (about  1592),  Peele's  Edward  I  (1593),  and  the 
anonymous  pseudo-Shakespearian  Edward  III  (published  in  1596)  .* 
The  history  aspect  of  the  play  is  most  prominent  in  the  earlier  acts. 
We  are  shown  the  passionate  devotion  of  ah1  the  main  actors  in  the 
story  to  their  country,  just  raised  to  European  renown  by  the  out- 
wardly glorious  reign  of  Edward  III.  The  magnificent  ceremonial  of 
chivalry,  which  Edward  encouraged,  is  paraded  in  unshorn  state  be- 
fore us;  the  visible  sign  of  the  great  yesterday  of  conquest  is  still 
apparently  commemorated  in  the  grand  figure  of  the  Shakespearian 
John  of  Gaunt.  The  peculiar  sting  of  Richard's  exactions,  to  the  mind 
of  his  angry  nobles,  is  that  they  have  been  squandered  in  peaceful 
luxury  — 

**  Wars  have  not  wasted  it,  for  warr'd  he  hath  not. 
But  basely  yielded  upon  compromise 
That  which  his  noble  ancestors  achieved  with  blows." 

Of  this  indignant  patriotism,  in  its  loftiest  form,  Gaunt  is  made  the 
mouthpiece  (without  a  hint  from  the  Chroncile).  He  thus  may  be  said 
to  stand,  in  our  play,  as  Faulconbridge  does  in  King  John,  as  the 
younger  Henry  in  some  sort  does  in  Henry  IV  and  Henry  V,  for 
England  herself.  The  closing  lines  of  King  John  breathe  a  spirit  iden- 
1  Entered  at  the  Stationers  Register,  December  1,  1595. 


x«  KING  RICHARD  II 

lical  with  that  of  Gaunt*  a  prophecy,  and  have  become  hardly  lew 
famous.  Gaunt  represents  that  loyalty,  which,  with  all  devotion  to 
the  king  as  the  'deputy  of  God,"  yet  puts  the  country  before  the 
king.  He  will  not  lift  his  arm  against  him,  but  he  will  speak  the  dag- 
gers he  may  not  use.  How  subtly  is  the  relation  between  father  and 
son  drawn!  In  both  we  discern,  though  in  different  proportions,  loy- 
alty to  law  and  vision  for  facts.  The  father  votes  his  son's  banish- 
ment; the  son  obeys.  The  father,  wrung  by  the  misery  of  England, 
utters  the  pro' eat  which  the  son  effects.  But  with  Gaunt  ideal  loy- 
alty preponderates;  in  Bolingbrokc,  practical  sagacity.  Gaunt  has 
more  imagination,  Bolingbroke  more  shrewdness.  Note  how  finely 
this  trait  is  suggested  in  their  parting  dialogue  (i.  3),  in  which  the 
father's  store  of  imaginative  resources  in  suffering  — 

"  Look,  what  thy  soul  holds  dear,  imagine  it 
To  Be  that  way  thou  go'st,  not  whence  thou  comeat," 

is  met  with  the  reply  of  sorrow!  ul  common  sense 

"  O,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand 
By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus?  ** 

York  and  Aumerle  belong  also  essentially  to  the  political  drama, 
and  their  relation,  though  far  less  subtly  drawn,  likewise  repays  study. 
...  ,  .  .  They  are  types  of  that  grosser  kind  of  loyalty 
which  is  little  more  than  a  refined  form  of  coward- 
ire.  York,  whose  submissiveness  to  Richard  is  tempered  only  by 
one  senile  protest,  surrenders,  after  a  little  bluster,  to  Bolingbroke, 
and  is  soon  his  abject  tool;  Aumerle,  though  he  remains  longer  true, 
saves  his  life  by  lying  (iv.  1),  and  by  betraying  his  friends  (v.  2). 

Lastly,  it  may  be  asked,  how  did  Shakespeare  view  the  political 
problem  of  the  History,  —  that  struggle  between  legitimacy  and  apti- 
tude which  the  nation  so  rapidly  settled  in  favour  of  the  latter?  That 
he  felt  the  element  of  violence  in  Bolingbroke's  procedure  is  plain  from 
the  confession  he  afterwards  attributes  to  Henry  IN"  ("  How  I  came  by 
the  crown,  O  God,  forgive!"  2  Henry  IV.  iv.  5.  219)  and  to  Henry  V 
("Not  to-day,  O  Lord,  O  not  to-day,  think  not  upon  the  fault  My 
father  made  in  compassing  the  crown ! "  Henry  V .  iv.  1.  277; ;  but  he 
probably  felt  no  less  keenly  that  the  situation  admitted  of  no  other 
solution.  He  neither  excused  the  act  nor  ignored  its  consequences. 
The  usurpation  was  necessary  for  England,  but  it  was  not  the  lesa 
necessary  that  England  should  suffer  for  it.1 

§  15.  Second,  under  the  aspect  of  tragedy.  In  Shakespearian  trag- 
edy two  types  of  tragic  effect  appear  to  be  fused:  (1)  Nemesis  follow- 

1  Cf.  Kreynsig.  u  t.  p.  400. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

ing  Guilt  or  Error;  (2)  Character  at  discord  with  Circumstance.  The 
6rst  is  the  classical  conception  of  tragedy.  It  is  (2)  Tragedy  of 
the  note  of  Shakespeare,  that  he  habitually  grounds  Richard  II 
both  guilt  and  error  on  character.  He  rarely  indeed,  as  in  Macbeth, 
builds  tragedy  upon  crime;  commonly,  as  in  Lear,  Othello,  Hamlet. 
the  crime  and  its  punishment  affect  only  the  secondary  actors,  and 
the  real  tragedy  belongs  to  those  who  err  only  through  some  fatal 
discord  between  their  character  and  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
are  set,  but  are  none  the  less  ruined  by  their  error.  There  is  here  no 
question  of  Nemesis,  of  proportion  between  suffering  and  fault; 
Othello  is  not,  in  any  intelligible  sense,  punished  for  his  credulity,  or 
Lear  for  his  blindness,  or  Hamlet  for  his  thought-sickness. 

Now  in  Richard  II  the  germs  of  both  these  types  of  tragedy  are 
distinctly  traceable,  but  apart.  We  have  the  framework  of  a  tragedy 
of  Guilt  and  Nemesis  in  the  dark  tale  of  Gloucester's  murder,  the 
starting  point  of  the  whole  action,  which  Bolingbroke  makes  it  his 
mission  to  avenge.  On  the  other  hand,  and  far  more  prominently, 
we  have  a  tragedy  of  Character  and  Circumstance.  As  handled  by 
Shakespeare,  the  story  of  Richard  exemplifies  a  kind  of  tragic  sub- 
ject that  toward  the  middle  of  his  career  obviously  interested  him,  — 
the  discord  between  the  life  of  thought  and  feeling  pursued  for  them- 
selves, and  the  life  of  practical  interests  between  the  poet  or  the 
thinker,  the  philosopher,  the  lover,  and  the  world  in  which  he  assumes, 
or  has  thrust  upon  him,  a  part  he  is  not  fitted  to  play.  Brutus  and 
Hamlet  are  forced  into  parts  for  which  the  one  is  unfitted  by  his 
abstract  academic  creed,  the  other  by  his  ingrained  habits  of  thought. 
The  love  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  is  fatal  to  them,  because  it  has  to  be 
evolved  in  a  society  consumed  by  mean  and  purposeless  hate.  An 
unmistakable  trait  of  kinship  connects  these  tragic  figures  with  Shake- 
speare's Richard.  He  is  a  creature  of  thought  and  emotion,  though 
his  thought  is  not  reflective  like  Hamlet's,  but  fanciful,  his  emotion 
not  passionate  like  Romeo's,  but  sentimental.  He  follows  momentary 
impulse,  like  a  brilliant  wayward  dreamer,  taking  no  account  of  the 
laws  and  limits  of  the  real  world,  and  turning  each  rude  collision  with 
them  merely  into  the  starting-point  of  a  new  dream.  And  these  laws 
and  limits  are  for  him  personified  in  Bolingbroke,  the  representative 
of  the  people  he  misruled;  the  embodiment  of  the  genius  for  action 
that  enables  a  man  to  get  the  iron  will  of  facts  on  his  side,  to  make  the 
silent  forces  of  law  and  custom,  of  national  needs  and  claims,  work  for 
him  by  making  himself  their  symbol.  We  shall  not  overstate  the  de- 
gree of  resemblance  between  Richard  and  the  tragic  figures  we  have 
compared  with  his,  if  we  say  that  Shakespeare  has  imagined  his  char- 
acter in  a  way  that  seems  natural  and  obvious  for  the  poet  who  within 


xxxii  KING  RICHARD  II 

a  year  or  two  (earlier  or  later)  created  Homeo  and  Juliet,  and  who  was, 
some  six  years  later,  to  create  Brutus  and  Hamlet. 

§  16.  Richard  the  Second  is  not  one  of  the  greatest  of  Shakespeare's 
plays.  But  it  is  one  of  the  most  instructive.  It  does  not  enlarge  our 
conception  of  his  powers,  —  of  some  of  them  (e.g.  his  humour)  it 
contains  hardly  a  trace.  But  it  gives  us  valuable  insight  into  their 
development,  at  one  of  those  moments  between  youth  and  maturity 

when  the  work  of  any  great  and  progressive  artist 
Conclusion  .  .  .J '   *          . 

is  apt  to  be  loaded  with  subtle  suggestions  of  both. 

This  period  was  apparently  not,  with  Shakespeare,  one  of  those 
epochs  of  Titanic  storm  and  stress,  in  which  all  the  latent  potencies  of 
a  man's  nature  are  brought  confusedly  to  the  surface.  It  was  rather 
a  time  of  relative  clearness  and  calmness,  of  measure  and  reserve,  of 
balance  and  serenity,  intervening  between  the  buoyant  extravagances 
and  daring  experiments  of  the  young  man,  and  the  colossal  adventures 
of  the  mature  Shakespeare  'into  strange  seas  of  thought  alone.'  For 
a  piece  of  Shakespearian  work  Richard  II  seems  at  first  .-trikingly 
simple  and  bare.  It  has  an  imposing  unity  and  singleness  of  plot. 
It  suggests  a  careful  pruning  of  excrescences  rather  than  the  reaching 
out  after  various  kinds  of  effect  that  produces  many-sided  affinities. 
Yet,  as  we  have  seen,  this  apparent  simplencss  and  singleness  is  found, 
on  closer  view,  compatible  with  a  blending  of  distinct  artistic  aims 
We  watch  the  procedure  of  a  great  tragic  poet,  emancipating  himself 
from  the  methods  of  the  national  history,  and  conceiving  his  work, 
both  on  the  historical  and  on  the  tragical  side,  under  the  influence  of  a 
reaction  from  the  methods  of  Marlowe.  Of  all  the  political  tragedies  it 
is  the  least  Marlowesque.  The  reaction  was  in  part  temporary,  in 
part  final  and  progressive.  The  infusion  of  lyrical  sweetness  and  lyrical 
rhyme  is  rapidly  abandoned  for  a  blank  verse  more  nervous  and  mas- 
culine than  Marlowe's  own.  The  interest  of  character  on  which  the 
play  is  so  largely  built  remains  a  cardinal  point  of  Shakespeare's  art; 
but  interest  of  plot  emerges  from  the  complete  subordination  that 
marks  it  here.  And  the  tragedy  that  arises  rather  out  of  character 
than  out  of  crime  Incomes  the  absorbing  theme  of  Shakespeare's  ma- 
turity. In  Richard  we  have  one  of  the  earliest  notes  of  that  profound 
Shakespearian  pity  which  has  little  relation  to  the  personal  compos- 
sion  excited  by  the  sufferings  of  Marlowe's  Edward  —  pity  that 
penetrates  beyond  the  doom  of  an  individual  to  the  social  milieu  by 
which  the  doom  was  provoked,  and  reflects  a  sad  recognition  of  what 
Walter  Pater  has  called  "the  unkindness  of  things  themselves,"  — 
the  tragedy  of  the  world  itself.  Such  pity,  like  every  emotion  that 
lifts  beyond  personal  misfortune,  has  its  'purifying*  power  upon 
meaner  forms  of  pity,  and  by  drawing  us  into  conscious  contact  with 


INTRODUCTION  xxxiii 

the  universal  issues  of  life,  exalts  while  it  saddens.  It  is  the  test  of 
great  tragedies  not  to  fail  of  this  exalting  power  upon  the  spectator, 
however  harrowing  the  sufferings  that  evolve  it;  so  that,  in  the  noble 
words  of  one  of  the  great  moral  teachers  of  our  time,  —  "though  a 
man's  sojourn  in  this  region  be  short,  yet  when  he  falls  again  the 
smell  of  the  divine  fire  has  passed  upon  him,  and  he  bears  about  him, 
for  a  time  at  least,  among  the  rank  vapours  of  the  earth  something  of 
the  freshness  and  fragrance  of  the  higher  air."  1 

1  T.  H.  Green:  An  Estimate  of  the  Value  and  Influence  of  Works  of  Fiction  in  Modern 
Times  (1862),  p  9.  I  borrow  this  quotation  from  Mr.  H.  C.  Beeching's  admirable 
edition  of  Julius  Caesar  (p.  vii),  the  more  willingly,  since  Mr.  Beeching'*  view  of 
Shakesperian  tragedy  is  not  precisely  my  own. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONA! 

1.  KINO  RICHARD  thr  Second. 

*.  JOHN  or  GACXT.  Duke  of  Lanca*trr,  \ 

t\  L      iv    i     I  uncle*  In  thr  King. 

3.  EoMCKD  or  LA  MULCT.  Duke  of  i  ork.  / 

4.  Hi  SHT,  lunmiiii-il  BoUNOBROKC,  Duke  of  Hrrrfuril,  ton  to  Juba  of  Gaunt;  mlln 

wmrdi  KINO  HCMRT  IV. 
6.  Di  K».  or  AIMEKI.C,  ion  to  tin-  Duke  o(  York. 

6.  TUOMAS  MOWURAT,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

7.  DUKC  or  SUBKCT. 

8.  EAHL  or  SALIMBUBT 

9.  LOHO  H mkf-i.tr. 

10.  BUSHT.   | 

11.  (iH».KN.    >  Mrvaats  to  King  Rirhard. 
1*.  BAOOT,    j 

13.  K\KI.  or  \HKTIirUllKKI.\Ml 

14.  HENBT  PtHCY.surnaiDed  Hotspur,  liti  ton. 

15.  I.HKII  Kosn. 

10.  IMUD  WILLOUOHBT. 

17.  lx)Hi>  KiTZWATtm. 
8.   Bishcip  of  Carlisle. 

18.  Al.ln.i  of  We»tmiri-.ti-r. 
<0.  SIH  STEPHEN  SCROOP. 
•i\.  SIB  PIERCE  of  Exton. 

l.uni  Marshal. 

Captain  of  a  band  of  \\VKlimcu. 

<4.  QCEE.N  to  King  Richard. 

23.  I  >i  '  iu>-  or  YORK. 

H.  Die  UExa  or  GLOUCESTER 

ljuly  ntteniliiiK  on  the  (^uren 

Lords,  Heralds.  ()iliti-r>,  >..lilicr»,  two  Gardeners,  Keeper,  Mrs.-mgct 
Gronui.  and  other  Attendants. 

:  England  and  tt'atct. 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 
KING  RICHARD  II 

ACT  I 

SCENE  I  —  London.     KING  RICHARD'S  palace 

Enter  KING  RICHARD,  JOHN  OF  GAUNT,  urith  other  Nobles 
and  Attendants 

K.    Rich.     Old    John    of    Gaunt,    time-honour 'd 

Lancaster, 

Hast  thou,  according  to  thy  oath  and  band, 
Brought  hither  Henry  Hereford  thy  bold  son, 
Here  to  make  good  the  boisterous  late  appeal, 
Which  then  our  leisure  would  not  let  us  hear, 
Against  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Mowbray? 

Gaunt.     I  have,  my  liege. 

K.  Rich.     Tell  me,  moreover,  hast  thou  sounded 

him, 

If  he  appeal  the  duke  on  ancient  malice; 
Or  worthily,  as  a  good  subject  should,  10 

On  some  known  ground  of  treachery  in  him? 

Gaunt.     As  near  as  I  could  sift  him  on  that  argu- 
ment, 

On  some  apparent  danger  seen  in  him 
Aim'd  at  your  highness,  no  inveterate  malice. 

K.  Rich.     Then  call  them  to  our  presence;  face  to 

face, 
And  frowning  brow  to  brow,  ourselves  will  hear 


9  KINC    RICHARD   II  lAc-r  ONB 

The  accuser  and  the  aroused  freely  speak: 
High-stomach'd  are  they  both,  and  full  of  ire, 
In  rage  deaf  as  the  sea,  hasty  as  fire. 

Enter  BOLINORROKE  and  MOWBRAT 

Baling.     Many  years  of  happy  days  befal  t- 

My  gracious  sovereign,  my  most  loving  liege! 

MOID.     Each  day  still  better  other's  happiness; 
Until  the  heavens,  envying  earth's  good  hap, 
Add  an  immortal  title  to  your  crown! 

A'.  Rich.     \Ve    thank    you    both:    yet    one    but 

flatters  us, 

As  well  appeareth  by  the  cause  you  come; 
Namely,  to  appeal  each  other  of  high  treason. 
Cousin  of  Hereford,  what  dost  thou  object 
Against  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Mowhray? 

Baling.     First,    heaven    be    the    record    to    my 

speech !  »o 

In  the  devotion  of  a  subject's  love, 
Tendering  the  precious  safety  of  my  prince, 
And  free  from  other  misbegotten  hate, 
Come  1  appellant  to  this  princely  presence. 
Now,  Thomas  Mowbray,  do  I  turn  to  thee 
And  mark  my  greeting  well;   for  what  I  speak 
My  body  shall  make  good  upon  this  earth, 
Or  my  divine  soul  answer  it  in  heaven. 
Thou  art  a  traitor  and  a  miscreant, 
Too  good  to  be  so  and  too  bad  to  live,  «• 

Since  the  more  fair  and  crystal  is  the  sky, 
The  uglier  seem  the  clouds  that  in  it  fly. 
Once  more,  the  more  to  aggravate  the  note, 
With  a  foul  traitor's  name  stuff  I  thy  throat; 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  8 

And  wish,  so  please  my  sovereign,  ere  I  move, 
What  my  tongue  speaks  my  right  drawn  sword  may 

prove. 
Mow.     Let  not  my  cold  words  here  accuse  my 

zeal: 

'T  is  not  the  trial  of  a  woman's  war, 
The  bitter  clamour  of  two  eager  tongues, 
Can  arbitrate  this  cause  betwixt  us  twain;  «c 

The  blood  is  hot  that  must  be  cool'd  for  this: 
Yet  can  I  not  of  such  tame  patience  boast 
As  to  be  hush'd  and  nought  at  all  to  say: 
First,  the  fair  reverence  of  your  highness  curbs  me 
From  giving  reins  and  spurs  to  my  free  speech; 
Which  else  would  post  until  it  had  return'd 
These  terms  of  treason  doubled  down  his  throat. 
Setting  aside  his  high  blood's  royalty, 
And  let  him  be  no  kinsman  to  my  liege, 
I  do  defy  him,  and  I  spit  at  him:  «o 

Call  him  a  slanderous  coward  and  a  villain: 
Which  to  maintain  I  would  allow  him  odds, 
And  meet  him,  were  I  tied  to  run  afoot 
Even  to  the  frozen  ridges  of  the  Alps, 
Or  any  other  ground  inhabitable 
Where  ever  Englishman  durst  set  his  foot. 
Mean  time  let  this  defend  my  loyalty, 
By  all  my  hopes,  most  falsely  doth  he  lie. 
Baling.     Pale  trembling  coward,  there  I  throw  my 

gage, 

Disclaiming  here  the  kindred  of  the  king,  TC 

And  lay  aside  my  high  blood's  royalty, 
Which  fear,  not  reverence,  makes  thee  to  except. 
If  guilty  dread  have  left  thee  so  much  strength 


4  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  ON* 

As  to  take  up  mine  honour's  pawn,  then  stoop: 
By  that  and  all  the  rites  of  knighthood  else, 
\\  ill  I  make  good  against  thee,  arm  to  arm, 
What  I  have  spoke,  or  thou  canst  worse  devise. 

Mow.  I  take  it  up;  and  by  that  sword  I  swear, 
Which  gently  laid  my  knighthood  on  my  shoulder, 
I'll  answer  thee  in  any  fair  degree,  st 

Or  chivalrous  design  of  knightly  trial: 
And  when  I  mount,  alive  may  I  not  light, 
If  I  be  traitor  or  unjustly  fight! 

A'.  Rich.     What  doth  our  cousin  lay  to  Mowbray 's 

charge? 

It  must  be  great  that  can  inherit  us 
So  much  as  of  a  thought  of  ill  in  him. 

Baling.     Look,  what  I  speak,  my  life  shall  prove 

it  true; 

That  Mowbray  hath  received  eight  thousand  nobles 
In  name  of  lendings  for  your  highness'  soldiers, 
The  which  he  hath  detain 'd  for  lewd  employments,    M 
Like  a  false  traitor  and  injurious  villain. 
Besides  I  say  and  will  in  battle  prove, 
Or  here  or  elsewhere  to  the  furthest  verge 
That  ever  was  survey 'd  by  English  eye, 
That  all  the  treasons  for  these  eighteen  years 
Com  plotted  and  contrived  in  this  land 
fetch  from   false  Mowbray   their  first  head  and 

spring. 

Further  I  say  and  further  will  maintain 
Upon  his  bad  life  to  make  all  this  good, 
That  he  did  plot  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  death,     100 
Suggest  his  soon-believing  adversaries, 
And  consequently,  like  a  traitor  coward. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD    II  5 

Sluiced  out  his  innocent  soul  through  streams  of 

blood : 

Which  blood,  like  sacrificing  Abel's,  cries, 
Even  from  the  tongueless  caverns  of  the  earth, 
To  me  for  justice  and  rough  chastisement ; 
And,  by  the  glorious  worth  of  my  descent, 
This  arm  shall  do  it,  or  this  life  be  spent. 

K.  Rich.     How  high  a  pitch  his  resolution  soars! 
Thomas  of  Norfolk,  what  say'st  thou  to  this?  no 

Mow.     O,  let  my  sovereign  turn  away  his  face 
And  bid  his  ears  a  little  while  be  deaf, 
Till  I  have  told  this  slander  of  his  blood, 
How  God  and  good  men  hate  so  foul  a  liar. 

K.  Rich.     Mowbray,  impartial  are  our  eyes  and 

ears: 

Were  he  my  brother,  nay,  my  kingdom's  heir, 
As  he  is  but  my  father's  brother's  son, 
Now,  by  my  sceptre's  awe,  I  make  a  vow, 
Such  neighbour  nearness  to  our  sacred  blood 
Should  nothing  privilege  him,  nor  partialize  uo 

The  unstooping  firmness  of  my  upright  soul: 
He  is  our  subject,  Mowbray;  so  art  thou: 
Free  speech  and  fearless  I  to  thee  allow. 

Mow.     Then,  Bolingbroke,  as  low  as  to  thy  heart, 
Through  the  false  passage  of  thy  throat,  thou  liest. 
Three  parts  of  that  receipt  I  had  for  Calais 
Disbursed  I  duly  to  his  highness'  soldiers; 
The  other  part  reserved  I  by  consent, 
For  that  my  sovereign  liege  was  in  my  debt 
Upon  remainder  of  a  dear  account,  ise 

Since  last  I  went  to  France  to  fetch  his  queen: 
Now  swallow  down  that  lie.     For  Gloucester's  death, 


6  KING   RICHARD  II  [Acr  ON» 

I  slew  him  not;  hut  to  my  own  disgrace 

Neglected  my  sworn  duty  in  that  case. 

For  you,  my  noble  Lord  of  Lancaster, 

The  honourable  father  to  my  Toe, 

Once  did  I  lay  an  ambush  for  your  life, 

A  trespass  that  doth  vex  my  grieved  soul; 

Hut  ere  I  last  received  the  sacrament 

I  did  confess  it,  and  exactly  begg'd  MO 

Your  grace's  pardon,  and  I  hope  I  had  it. 

This  is  my  fault:  as  for  the  rest  appeal'd, 

It  issues  from  the  rancour  of  a  villain, 

A  recreant  and  most  degenerate  traitor: 

Which  in  myself  I  boldly  will  defend; 

And  interchangeably  hurl  down  my  gage 

I'pon  this  overweening  traitor's  foot, 

To  prove  myself  a  loyal  gentleman 

Even  in  the  best  blood  chamber'd  in  his  bosom. 

In  haste  whereof,  most  heartily  I  pray  uo 

Your  highness  to  assign  our  trial  day. 

A'.  Rich.     Wrath-kindled  gentlemen,  be  ruled  by 

me; 

Let's  purge  this  choler  without  letting  blood: 
This  we  prescribe,  though  no  physician; 
Deep  malice  makes  too  deep  incision; 
Forget,  forgive;  conclude  and  be  agreed; 
Our  doctors  say  this  is  no  month  to  bleed. 
Good  uncle,  let  this  end  where  it  begun; 
We'll  calm  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  you  your  son. 

Gaunt.     To  be  a  make-peace  shall   become   my 

age :  1* 

Throw  down,  my  son,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk's  gage. 

A'.  Rich.     And,  Norfolk,  throw  down  his. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  7 

Gaunt.  When,  Harry,  when? 

Obedience  bids  I  should  not  bid  again. 

K,  Rich.     Norfolk,  throw  down,  we  bid;   there  is 
no  boot. 

Mow.     Myself  I  throw,  dread  sovereign,  at  thy 

foot. 

My  life  thou  shalt  command,  but  not  my  shame: 
The  one  my  duty  owes;   but  my  fair  name, 
Despite  of  death  that  lives  upon  my  grave, 
To  dark  dishonour's  use  thou  shalt  not  have. 
I  am  disgraced,  impeach'd  and  baffled  here,  i?« 

Pierced  to  the  soul  with  slander's  venom 'd  spear, 
The  which  no  balm  can  cure  but  his  heart-blood 
Which  breathed  this  poison. 

K.  Rich.  Rage  must  be  withstood: 

Give  me  his  gage:  lions  make  leopards  tame. 

Mow.     Yea,  but  not  change  his  spots:   take  but 

my  shame, 

A.nd  I  resign  my  gage.     My  dear  dear  lord, 
The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford 
Is  spotless  reputation:  that  away, 
Men  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay. 
A  jewel  in  a  ten-times-barr'd-up  chest  isi 

Is  a  bold  spirit  in  a  loyal  breast. 
Mine  honour  is  my  life;  both  grow  in  one; 
Take  honour  from  me,  and  my  life  is  done: 
Then,  dear  my  liege,  mine  honour  let  me  try; 
In  that  I  live  and  for  that  will  I  die. 

K.  Rich.     Cousin,  throw  up  your  gage;    do  you 
begin. 

Boling.     O,  God  defend  my  soul  from  such  deep 
sin! 


8  KING   IlirilAKD   II  [A 

Shall  I  seem  crest-fall'n  in  my  father's  sight? 
Or  with  pale  beggar-fear  iiii|M»ach  my  height 
Before  this  out-dared  dastard?     Ere  my  tongue         101 
Shall  wound  my  honour  with  such  feeble  wrong, 
Or  sound  so  base  a  parle,  my  teeth  shall  tear 
The  slavish  motive  of  recanting  fear. 
And  spit  it  bleeding  in  his  high  disgrace. 
Where  shame  doth  harbour,  even  in  Mowbray's  fare. 

[Exit  Gaunt, 

K.  Rich.     \\e  were  not  born  to  sue,  but  to  com- 
mand; 

Which  since  we  cannot  do  to  make  you  friends, 
lie  ready,  as  your  lives  shall  answer  it, 
At  Coventry,  upon  Saint  Lambert's  day: 
There  shall  your  swords  and  lances  arbitrate  *ou 

The  swelling  difference  of  your  settled  hate: 
Since  we  can  not  atone  you,  we  shall  see 
Justice  design  the  victor's  chivalry. 
Lord  marshal,  command  our  officers  at  arms 
He  ready  to  direct  these  home  alarms.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  The  DUKE  OF  LANCASTER'S  palace 
Enter  JOHN  OF  GAUNT  vnth  the  DUCHESS  OF  GLOUCESTER 

Gaunt.     Alas,  the  part  I  had  in  Woodstock's  blood 
Doth  more  solicit  me  than  your  exclaims, 
To  stir  against  the  butchers  of  his  life! 
Hut  since  correction  lieth  in  those  hands 
Which  made  the  fault  that  we  cannot  correct, 
Put  we  our  quarrel  to  the  will  of  heaven; 
Who.  when  they  see  the  hours  ripe  on  earth, 
Will  rain  hot  vengeance  on  offenders'  heads. 


SCENE  Two]          KING  RICHARD  II  9 

Duch.     Finds    brotherhood    in   thee  no  sharper 

spur? 

Hath  love  in  thy  old  blood  no  living  fire?  i« 

Edward's  seven  sons,  whereof  thyself  art  one, 
Were  as  seven  vials  of  his  sacred  blood, 
Or  seven  fair  branches  springing  from  one  root: 
Some  of  those  seven  are  dried  by  nature's  course, 
Some  of  those  branches  by  the  Destinies  cut; 
But  Thomas,  my  dear  lord,  my  life,  my  Gloucester, 
One  vial  full  of  Edward's  sacred  blood, 
One  flourishing  branch  of  his  most  royal  root, 
Is  crack'd,  and  all  the  precious  liquor  spilt, 
Is  hack'd  down,  and  his  summer  leaves  all  faded,        *o 
By  envy's  hand  and  murder's  bloody  axe. 
Ah,  Gaunt,  his  blood  was  thine!  that  bed,  that  womb, 
That  metal,  that  self  mould,  that  fashion 'd  thee 
Made  him  a  man;    and  though  thou  livest  and 

breathest, 

Yet  art  thou  slain  in  him:  thou  dost  consent 
In  some  large  measure  to  thy  father's  death, 
In  that  thou  seest  thy  wretched  brother  die, 
Who  was  the  model  of  thy  father's  life. 
Call  it  not  patience,  Gaunt;  it  is  despair: 
In  suffering  thus  thy  brother  to  be  slaughter'd,  so 

Thou  showest  the  naked  pathway  to  thy  life, 
Teaching  stern  murder  how  to  butcher  thee: 
That  which  in  mean  men  we  intitle  patience 
Is  pale  cold  cowardice  in  noble  breasts. 
What  shall  I  say?  to  safeguard  thine  own  life, 
The  best  way  is  to  venge  my  Gloucester's  death. 

Gaunt.     God's  is  the  quarrel ;  for  God's  substitute, 
His  deputy  anointed  in  His  sight, 


10  KING  RICHARD  11  [ACTON. 

II nth  caused  his  death:   the  which  if  wrongfully, 

IxH  heaven  revenge;   for  I  may  never  lift  40 

An  angry  arm  against  His  minister. 

Duch.     Where  then,  alas,  may  I  complain  myself? 

(Jaunt.     To    God,    the     widow's    champion    and 
defence. 

Duch.     Why,  then,  I  will.     Farewell,  old  Gaunt. 
Thou  goest  to  Coventry,  there  to  behold 
Our  cousin  Hereford  and  fell  Mowbray  fight; 
O,  sit  my  husband's  wrongs  on  Hereford's  spear, 
That  it  may  enter  butcher  Mowbray 's  breast! 
Or,  if  misfortune  miss  the  first  career, 
He  Mowbray's  sins  so  heavy  in  his  bosom,  »o 

That  they  may  break  his  foaming  courser's  back, 
And  throw  the  rider  headlong  in  the  lists, 
A  caitiff  recreant  to  my  cousin  Hereford! 
Farewell,  old  Gaunt:   thy  sometimes  brother's  wife 
With  her  companion  grief  must  end  her  life. 

Gaunt.     Sister,  farewell;   I  must  to  Coventry: 
As  much  good  stay  with  thee  as  go  with  me! 

Duch.     Yet  one  word  more:  grief  boundeth  where 

it  falls, 

Not  with  the  empty  hollowness,  but  weight: 
I  take  my  leave  before  I  have  begun,  e« 

For  sorrow  ends  not  when  it  seemeth  done. 
Commend  me  to  thy  brother,  Edmund  York. 
Lo,  this  is  all:  —  nay,  yet  depart  not  so; 
Though  this  be  all,  do  not  so  quickly  go; 
I  shall  remember  more.     Hid  him  —  ah,  what?  — 
With  all  good  speed  at  Plashy  visit  me. 
Alack,  and  what  shall  good  old  York  there  see 
But  empty  lodgings  and  unfurnish'd  walls, 


SCENE  THREE)        KING    RICHARD    II  11 

Unpeopled  offices,  untrodden  stones? 

And  what  hear  there  for  welcome  but  my  groans?       ?« 

Therefore  commend  me;  let  him  not  come  there, 

To  seek  out  sorrow  that  dwells  every  where. 

Desolate,  desolate,  will  I  hence  and  die: 

The  last  leave  of  thee  takes  my  weeping  eye. 

'  Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  The  lists  at  Coventry 
Enter  the  Lord  Marshal  and  the  DUKE  OF  AUMERLB 

Mar.     My    Lord    Aumerle,    is    Harry    Hereford 

arm'd? 

A um.     Yea,  at  all  points;  and  longs  to  enter  in. 
Mar.     The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  sprightf ully  and  bold, 
Stays  but  the  summons  of  the  appellant's  trumpet. 
Aum.     Why,  then,  the  champions  are  prepared, 

and  stay 
For  nothing  but  his  majesty's  approach. 

The  trumpets  sound,  and  the  KING  enters  with  his  nobles, 
GAUNT,    BUSHY,    BAGOT,     GREEN,    and    others.     When 

they  are  set,  enter  MOWBRAY  in  arms,  defendant,  with 

a  Herald 

K.  Rich.     Marshal,  demand  of  yonder  champion 
The  cause  of  his  arrival  here  in  arms: 
Ask  him  his  name  and  orderly  proceed 
To  swear  him  in  the  justice  of  his  cause.  i« 

Mar.     In  God's  name  and  the  king's,  say  who  thou 

art 

And  why  thou  comest  thus  knightly  clad  in  arms, 
Against  what  man  thou  comest,  and  what  thy  quarrel : 
Speak  truly,  on  thy  knighthood  and  thy  oath; 


12  KING    U1CI1AKD    II  [ ACT  ONI 

As  so  defend  thee  heaven  and  thy  valour! 

Mow.     My  name  is  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of 

Norfolk: 

Who  hither  come  engaged  by  my  oath  — 
Which  God  defend  a  knight  should  violate!  — 
Both  to  defend  my  loyalty  and  truth 
To  God,  my  king  and  my  succeeding  issue,  * 

Against  the  Duke  of  Hereford  that  appeals  me; 
And,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  this  mine  arm, 
To  prove  him,  in  defending  of  myself, 
A  traitor  to  my  God,  my  king,  and  me: 
And  as  I  truly  fight,  defend  me  heaven! 

The  trumpets  sound.     Enter  BOLINGBROKE,  appellant, 
in  armour,  u-ilh  a  Herald 

K.  Rich.     Marshal,  ask  yonder  knight  in  arms 
Both  who  he  is  and  why  he  cometh  hither 
Thus  plated  in  habiliments  of  war, 
And  formally,  according  to  our  law, 
Depose  him  in  the  justice  of  his  cause.  si 

Mar.     What  is  thy  name?  and  wherefore  comest 

thou  hither, 

Before  King  Richard  in  his  royal  lists? 
Against  whom  comest  thou?  and  what's  thy  quarrel? 
Speak  like  a  true  knight,  so  defend  thee  heaven! 

Holing.     Harry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster,  and  Derby, 
Am  I ;  who  ready  here  do  stand  in  arms 
To  prove,  by  God's  grace  and  my  body's  valour, 
In  lists,  on  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
That  he  is  a  traitor,  foul  and  dangerous, 
To  God  of  heaven,  King  Richard  and  to  me ;  « 

And  as  I  truly  fight,  defend  me  heaven ! 


SCENE  THREE]        KING    RICHARD   II  13 

Mar.     On  pain  of  death,  no  person  be  so  bold 
Or  daring-hardy  as  to  touch  the  lists, 
Except  the  marshal  and  such  officers 
Appointed  to  direct  these  fair  designs. 

Baling.     Lord  marshal,  let  me  kiss  my  sovereign's 

hand, 

And  bow  my  knee  before  his  majesty: 
For  Mowbray  and  myself  are  like  two  men 
That  vow  a  long  and  weary  pilgrimage; 
Then  let  us  take  a  ceremonious  leave 
And  loving  farewell  of  our  several  friends. 

Mar.     The  appellant  in  all  duty  greets  your  high- 
ness, 
And  craves  to  kiss  your  hand  and  take  his  leave. 

K.  Rich.     We  will  descend  and  fold  him  in  our 

arms. 

Cousin  of  Hereford,  as  thy  cause  is  right, 
So  be  thy  fortune  in  this  royal  fight! 
Farewell,  my  blood;  which  if  to-day  thou  shed, 
Lament  we  may,  but  not  revenge  thee  dead. 

Baling.     O,  let  no  noble  eye  profane  a  tear 
For  me,  if  I  be  gored  with  Mowbray 's  spear: 
As  confident  as  is  the  falcon's  flight 
Against  a  bird,  do  I  with  Mowbray  fight. 
My  loving  lord,  I  take  my  leave  of  you; 
Of  you,  my  noble  cousin,  Lord  Aumerle; 
Not  sick,  although  I  have  to  do  with  death, 
But  lusty,  young,  and  cheerly  drawing  breath. 
Lo,  as  at  English  feasts,  so  I  regreet 
The  daintiest  last,  to  make  the  end  most  sweet: 
O  thou,  the  earthly  author  of  my  blood, 
Whose  youthful  spirit,  in  me  regenerate, 


U  KING   RICHARD   II  (Aci  ONB 

Doth  with  a  twofold  vigour  lift  me  up 

To  reach  at  victory  above  my  head, 

Add  proof  unto  mine  armour  with  thy  prayers; 

And  with  thy  blessings  steel  my  lance's  point, 

That  it  may  enter  Mowbray's  waxen  coat, 

And  furbish  new  the  name  of  John  a  Gaunt, 

Even  in  the  lusty  haviour  of  his  son. 

Gaunt.     God  in  thy  good  cause  make  thee  pros- 


perous 


Be  swift  like  lightning  in  the  execution; 

And  let  thy  blows,  doubly  redoubled,  •< 

Fall  like  amazing  thunder  on  the  casque 

Of  thy  adverse  pernicious  enemy: 

Rouse  up  thy  youthful  blood,  be  valiant  and  live. 

Baling.     Mine  innocency  and  Saint   George  to 
thrive! 

Mow.     However  God  or  fortune  cast  my  lot, 
There  lives  or  dies,  true  to  King  Richard's  throne, 
A  loyal,  just  and  upright  gentleman: 
Never  did  captive  with  a  freer  heart 
Cast  off  his  chains  of  bondage  and  embrace 
His  golden  uncontroll'd  enfranchisement,  »o 

More  than  my  dancing  soul  doth  celebrate 
This  feast  of  battle  with  mine  adversary. 
Most  mighty  liege,  and  my  companion  peers, 
Take  from  my  mouth  the  wish  of  happy  years. 
As  gentle  and  as  jocund  as  to  jest 
Go  I  to  fight :  truth  hath  a  quiet  breast. 

K.  Rich.     Farewell,  my  lord :  securely  I  espy 
Virtue  with  valour  couched  in  thine  eye. 
Order  the  trial,  marshal,  and  begin. 

Alar.     Harry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster  and  Derby,  100 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  15 

Receive  thy  lance;  and  God  defend  the  right! 
Baling.     Strong  as  a  tower  in  hope,  I  cry  amen. 
Mar.     Go  bear  this  lance  to  Thomas,  Duke  of 

Norfolk. 
First  Her.     Harry   of    Hereford,    Lancaster   and 

Derby, 

Stands  here  for  God,  his  sovereign  and  himself, 
On  pain  to  be  found  false  and  recreant, 
To  prove  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Mowbray, 
A  traitor  to  his  God,  his  king  and  him; 
And  dares  him  to  set  forward  to  the  fight. 

Sec.  Her.     Here     standeth     Thomas    Mowbray, 

Duke  of  Norfolk,  iiu 

On  pain  to  be  found  false  and  recreant, 
Both  to  defend  himself  and  to  approve 
Henry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster,  and  Derby, 
To  God,  his  sovereign  and  to  him  disloyal; 
Courageously  and  with  a  free  desire 
Attending  but  the  signal  to  begin. 

Mar.     Sound,  trumpets;    and  set  forward,  com- 
batants. 

[A  charge  sounded. 

Stay,  the  king  hath  thrown  his  warder  down. 

K.  Rich.     Let  them  lay  by  their  helmets  and  their 

spears, 

And  both  return  back  to  their  chairs  again:  net 

Withdraw  with  us:  and  let  the  trumpets  sound 
While  we  return  these  dukes  what  we  decree. 

[A  long  flourish. 
Draw  near, 

And  list  what  with  our  council  we  have  done. 
For  that  our  kingdom's  earth  should  not  be  soil'd 


16  KlN(i    H1CHAUD   II  | ACT  ON. 

With  that  dear  blood  which  it  hath  fostered; 

And  for  our  eyes  do  hate  the  dire  aspect 

Of  civil  wounds  plough'd  up  with  neighbours'  sword; 

And  for  we  think  the  eagle-winged  pride 

Of  sky-aspiring  and  ambitious  thoughts,  iso 

With  rival-hating  envy,  set  on  you 

To  wake  our  peace,  which  in  our  country's  cradle 

Draws  the  sweet  infant  breath  of  gentle  sleep: 

Which  so  roused  up  with  boisterous  untuned  drums, 

With  harsh-resounding  trumpets'  dreadful  bray, 

And  grating  shock  of  wrathful  iron  arms, 

Might  from  our  quiet  confines  fright  fair  |x»ace 

And  make  us  wade  even  in  our  kindred's  blood; 

Therefore,  we  banish  you  our  territories: 

You,  cousin  Hereford,  upon  pain  of  life,  '*• 

Till  twice  five  summers  have  enrich 'd  our  fields 

Shall  not  regreet  our  fair  dominions, 

But  tread  the  stranger  paths  of  banishment. 

Baling.     Your  will  be  done:  this  must  my  com- 
fort be, 

That  sun  that  warms  you  here  shall  shine  on  me; 
And  those  his  golden  beams  to  you  here  lent 
Shall  point  on  me  and  gild  my  banishment. 

K.  Rich.     Norfolk,  for    thee    remains    u    heavier 

doom, 

Which  I  with  some  unwillingness  pronounce: 
The  sly  slow  hours  shall  not  determinate  wr 

The  dateless  limit  of  thy  dear  exile; 
The  hopeless  word  of  'never  to  return' 
Breathe  I  against  thee,  upon  pain  of  life. 

Mow.     A    heavy    sentence,   my   most    sovereign 
liege, 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  17 

And  all  unlook'd  for  from  your  highness'  mouth: 
A  dearer  merit,  not  so  deep  a  maim 
As  to  be  cast  forth  in  the  common  air, 
Have  I  deserved  at  your  highness'  hands. 
The  language  I  have  learn'd  these  forty  years, 
My  native  English,  now  I  must  forego:  ieo 

And  now  my  tongue's  use  is  to  me  no  more 
Than  an  unstringed  viol  or  a  harp, 
.Or  like  a  cunning  instrument  cased  up, 
Or,  being  open,  put  into  his  hands 
That  knows  no  touch  to  tune  the  harmony: 
Within  my  mouth  you  have  engaol'd  my  tongue, 
Doubly  portcullis'd  with  my  teeth  and  lips; 
And  dull  unfeeling  barren  ignorance 
Is  made  my  gaoler  to  attend  on  me. 
I  am  too  old  to  fawn  upon  a  nurse,  i  TO 

Too  far  in  years  to  be  a  pupil  now: 
What  is  thy  sentence  then  but  speechless  death, 
Which  robs  my  tongue  from  breathing  native  breath? 

K.  Rich.     It  boots  thee  not  to  be  compassionate: 
After  our  sentence  plaining  comes  too  late. 

Mow.     Then  thus  I  turn  me  from  my  country's 

light, 
To  dwell  in  solemn  shades  of  endless  night. 

K.  Rich.     Return  again,  and  take  an  oath  with 

thee. 

Lay  on  our  royal  sword  your  banish 'd  hands; 
Swear  by  the  duty  that  you  owe  to  God  -  iso 

Our  part  therein  we  banish  with  yourselves  — 
To  keep  the  oath  that  we  administer: 
You  never  shall,  so  help  you  truth  and  God! 
Embrace  each  other's  love  in  banishment; 


18  KING   RICHARD  II  [Acr  ON« 

Nor  never  look  upon  each  other's  face; 

Nor  never  write,  regreet,  nor  reconcile 

This  louring  tempest  of  your  home-bred  hate; 

Nor  never  l>y  advised  purpose  meet 

To  plot,  contrive,  or  complot  any  ill 

'Gainst  us,  our  state,  our  subjects,  or  our  land.          »*> 

Boling.     I  swear. 

Mow.     And  I,  to  keep  all  this. 

Holing.     Norfolk,  so  far  as  to  mine  enemy:  — 
By  this  time,  had  the  king  permitted  us, 
One  of  our  souls  had  wander'd  in  the  air, 
Banish'd  this  frail  sepulchre  of  our  flesh, 
As  now  our  flesh  is  banish'd  from  this  land: 
Confess  thy  treasons  ere  thou  fly  the  realm; 
Since  thou  hast  far  to  go,  bear  not  along 
The  clogging  burthen  of  a  guilty  soul.  too 

Mow.     No,  Bolingbroke:  if  ever  I  were  traitor, 
My  name  be  blotted  from  the  book  of  life, 
And  I  from  heaven  banish'd  as  from  hence! 
But  what  thou  art,  God,  thou,  and  I  do  know; 
And  all  too  soon,  T  fear,  the  king  shall  rue. 
Farewell,  my  liege.     Now  no  way  can  I  stray; 
Save  back  to  England,  all  the  world's  my  way. 

[Exit. 

K.  Rich.     Uncle,  even  in  the  glasses  of  thine  eyes 
I  see  thy  grieved  heart:  thy  sad  aspect 
Hath  from  the  number  of  his  banish'd  years  »• 

Pluck'd  four  away.     [To  Boling.]     Six  frozen  win- 
ters spent, 
Return  with  welcome  home  from  banishment. 

Boling.     How  long  a  time  lies  in  one  little  word! 
Four  lagging  winter?  and  four  wanton  springs 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  19 

End  in  a  word :  such  is  the  breath  of  kings. 

Gaunt.     I  thank  my  liege,  that  in  regard  of  me 
He  shortens  four  years  of  my  son's  exile: 
But  little  vantage  shall  I  reap  thereby; 
For,  ere  the  six  years  that  he  hath  to  spend 
Can  change    their    moons  and  bring  their    times 

about,  esc 

My  oil-dried  lamp  and  time-bewasted  light 
Shall  be  extinct  with  age  and  endless  night; 
My  inch  of  taper  will  be  burnt  and  done, 
And  blindfold  death  not  let  me  see  my  son. 

K.  Rich.  Why,  uncle,  thou  hast  many  years  to  live. 

Gaunt.     But  not  a  minute,  king,  that  thou  canst 

give: 

Shorten  my  days  thou  canst  with  sullen  sorrow, 
And  pluck  nights  from  me,  but  not  lend  a  morrow; 
Thou  canst  help  time  to  furrow  me  with  age, 
But  stop  no  wrinkle  in  his  pilgrimage;  *s° 

Thy  word  is  current  with  him  for  my  death, 
But  dead,  thy  kingdom  cannot  buy  my  breath. 

K.  Rich.     Thy  son  is  banish'd  upon  good  advice, 
Whereto  thy  tongue  a  party- verdict  gave: 
Why  at  our  justice  seem'st  thou  then  to  lour? 

Gaunt.     Things  sweet  to  taste  prove  in  digestion 

sour. 

You  urged  me  as  a  judge;  but  I  had  rather 
You  would  have  bid  me  argue  like  a  father. 
O,  had  it  been  a  stranger,  not  my  child, 
To  smooth  his  fault  I  should  have  been  more  mild:  **« 
A  partial  slander  sought  I  to  avoid, 
And  in  the  sentence  my  own  life  destroy'd. 
Alas,  I  look'd  when  some  of  you  should  say, 


to  KING  RICHARD  n  [ACT  ONI 

I  was  too  strict  to  make  mine  own  away; 
Hut  you  gave  leave  to  my  unwilling  tongue 
Against  my  will  to  do  myself  this  wrong. 

A'.  Hii-h.     Cousin,  farewell;   and,   uncle,  hid  him 

so: 
Six  years  we  hanish  him,  and  he  shall  go. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt  King  Richard  and  train. 

Aum.     Cousin,  farewell:  what  presence  must  not 

know. 
From,  where  you  do  remain  let  paj>er  show.  *M 

Mar.     My  lord,  no  leave  take  I;   for  I  will  ride, 
As  far  as  land  will  let  me,  by  your  side. 

Gaunt.     O,  to  what  purpose  dost  thou  hoard  thy 

words, 
That  thou  return 'st  no  greeting  to  thy  friends? 

holing.     I  have  too  few  to  take  my  leave  of  you, 
When  the  tongue's  office  should  be  prodigal 
To  breathe  the  abundant  dolour  of  the  heart. 

Gaunt.     Thy  grief  is  but  thy  absence  for  a  tiriie. 

Baling.     Joy  absent,  grief  is  present  for  that  time. 

Gaunt.     What  is  six  winters?    they  are  quickly 

gone.  *» 

Baling.  To  men  in  joy ;  but  grief  makes  one  hour  ten. 

Gaunt.     Call    it    a   travel    that   thou  takest   for 
pleasure. 

Holing.     My  heart  will  sigh  when  I  miscall  it  so, 
Winch  finds  it  an  inforced  pilgrimage. 

Gaunt.     The  sullen  passage  of  thy  weary  steps 
Ksteem  as  foil  wherein  thou  art  to  set 
The  precious  jewel  of  thy  home  return. 

Holing.     Nay,  rather,  every  tedious  stride  I  make 
Will  but  remember  me  what  a  deal  of  world 


SCENE  THREE]         KING    RICHARD    II  21 

I  wander  from  the  jewels  that  I  love.  27° 

Must  I  not  serve  a  long  apprenticehood 
To  foreign  passages,  and  in  the  end, 
Having  nay  freedom,  boast  of  nothing  else 
But  that  I  was  a  journeyman  to  grief? 

Gaunt.     All  places  that  the  eye  of  heaven  visits 
Are  to  a  wise  man  ports  and  happy  havens. 
Teach  thy  necessity  to  reason  thus; 
There  is  no  virtue  like  necessity. 
Think  not  the  king  did  banish  thee, 
But  thou  the  king.     Woe  doth  the  heavier  sit,  «8° 

Where  it  perceives  it  is  but  faintly  borne. 
Go,  say  I  sent  thee  forth  to  purchase  honour 
And  not  the  king  exiled  thee;  or  suppose 
Devouring  pestilence  hangs  in  our  air 
And  thou  art  flying  to  a  fresher  clime: 
Look,  what  thy  soul  holds  dear,  imagine  it 
To  lie  that  way  thou  go'st,  not  whence  thou  comest: 
Suppose  the  singing  birds  musicians, 
The  grass  whereon  thou  tr  -ad'st  the  presence  strew'd, 
The  flowers  fair  ladies,  and  thy  steps  no  more  a»o 

Than  a  delightful  measure  or  a  dance; 
For  gnarling  sorrow  hath  less  power  to  bite 
The  man  that  mocks  at  it  and  sets  it  light. 

Baling.     O,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand 
By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus? 
Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite 
By  bare  imagination  of  a  feast? 
Or  wallow  naked  in  December  snow 
By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer's  heat? 
O,  no!  the  apprehension  of  the  good  wo 

Gives  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse: 


g«  KING   RICHARD  II  (ACT  ONE 

Fell  sorrow's  tooth  doth  never  rankle  more 
Than  when  he  bites,  but  lanceth  not  the  sore. 
Gaunt.     Come,  come,  my  son,  L'll  bring  thee  on 

thy  way: 

Had  I  thy  youth  and  cause,  I  would  not  stay. 
holing.     Then,  England's  ground,  farewell;  sweet 

soil,  adieu; 

My  mother,  and  my  nurse,  that  bears  me  yet! 
Where'er  I  wander,  boast  of  this  I  can, 
Though  banish'd,  yet  a  trueborn  Englishman. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV  —  The  court 

Enter  the  KING,  with  BAGOT  and  GREEN  at  one  door; 
and  the  DUKE  OF  AUMERLE  at  another 

K.  Rich.     We  did  observe.     Cousin  Aumerle, 
How  far  brought  you  high  Hereford  on  his  way? 

Aum.     I  brought  high  Hereford,  if  you  call  him  so, 
But  to  the  next  highway,  and  there  I  left  him. 

K.  Rich.     And  say,  what  store  of  parting  tears 
were  shed? 

Aum.     Faith,  none  for  me;  except  the  north-east 

wind, 

Which  then  blew  bitterly  against  our  faces, 
Awaked  the  sleeping  rheum,  and  so  by  chance 
Did  grace  our  hollow  parting  with  a  tear. 

K.  Rich.     What  said  our  cousin  when  you  parted 
with  him? 

Aum.     'Farewell': 

And,  for  my  heart  disdained  that  my  tongue 
Should  so  profane  the  word,  that  taught  me  craft 
To  counterfeit  oppression  of  such  grief 


SCENE  FOUR]  KING   RICHARD   II  £3 

That  words  seem'd  buried  in  my  sorrow's  grave. 
Marry,  would   the  word  'farewell'  have  lengthen'd 

hours 

And  added  years  to  his  short  banishment, 
He  should  have  had  a  volume  of  farewells; 
But  since  it  would  not,  he  had  none  of  me. 

K.  Rich.     He  is  our  cousin,  cousin ;  but 't  is  doubt,   «i 
When  time  shall  call  him  home  from  banishment, 
Whether  our  kinsman  come  to  see  his  friends. 
Ourself  and  Bushy,  Bagot  here  and  Green 
Observed  his  courtship  to  the  common  people; 
How  he  did  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts 
With  humble  and  familiar  courtesy, 
What  reverence  he  did  throw  away  on  slaves, 
Wooing  poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  smiles 
And  patient  underbearing  of  his  fortune, 
As  't  were  to  banish  their  affects  with  him.  *° 

Off  goes  his  bonnet  to  an  oyster- wench; 
A  brace  of  draymen  bid  God  speed  him  well 
And  had  the  tribute  of  his  supple  knee, 
With  '  Thanks,  my  countrymen,  my  loving  friends '; 
As  were  our  England  in  reversion  his, 
And  he  our  subjects'  next  degree  in  hope. 

Green.     Well,  he  is  gone;   and  with  him  go  these 

thoughts. 

Now  for  the  rebels  which  stand  out  in  Ireland, 
Expedient  manage  must  be  made,  my  liege, 
Ere  further  leisure  yield  them  further  means  40 

For  their  advantage  and  your  highness'  loss. 

K.  Rich.     We  will  ourself  in  person  to  this  war: 
And,  for  our  coffers,  with  too  great  a  court 
And  liberal  largess,  are  grown  somewhat  h'ght, 


*4  KING   KH  HARD   II  lAt-r  ONE 

We  are  inforced  to  farm  our  royal  realm; 

The  revenue  whereof  shall  furnish  us 

For  our  affairs  in  hand:   if  that  come  short, 

Our  substitutes  at  home  shall  have  blank  charters; 

Whereto,  when  they  shall  know  what  men  are  rich, 

They  shall  subscribe  them  for  large  sums  of  gold 

And  send  them  after  to  supply  our  wants; 

For  we  will  make  for  Ireland  presently. 

Enter  BUSHY 

Bushy,  what  news? 

Bushy.     Old  John  of  Gaunt  is  grievous  sick,  my 

lord, 

Suddenly  taken;  and  hath  sent  post  haste 
To  entreat  your  majesty  to  visit  him. 

K.  Rich.     Where  lies  he? 

Bushy.     At  Ely  House. 

K.  Rich.     Now  put.  it,  God,  in  the  physician's 

mind 

To  help  him  to  his  grave  immediately! 
The  lining  of  his  coffers  shall  make  coats 
To  deck  our  soldiers  for  these  Irish  wars. 
Come,  gentlemen,  let's  all  go  visit  him: 
Pray  God  we  may  make  haste,  and  come  too  late! 

ALL.     Amen.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  n 

SCENE  I  —  Ely  House 
Enter  JOHN  OF  GAUNT  sick,  with  the  DUKE  OF  YORK,  <te. 

Gaunt.     Will  the  king  come,  that  I  may  breathe 

my  last 
fn  wholesome  counsel  to  his  unstaid  youth? 

York.     Vex  not  yourself,  nor  strive  not  with  your 

breath; 
For  all  in  vain  comes  counsel  to  his  ear. 

Gaunt.     O,  but  they  say  the  tongues  of  dying  men 
Enforce  attention  like  deep  harmony: 
Where  words  are  scarce,  they  are  seldom  spent  in  vain, 
For  they  breathe  truth  that  breathe  their  words  in 

pain. 
He  that  no  more  must  say  is  listen'd  more 

Than  they  whom  youth  and  ease  have  taught  to 

glose;  10 

More  are  men's  ends  mark'd  than  their  lives  before : 

The  setting  sun,  and  music  at  the  close, 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  last, 
Writ  in  remembrance  more  than  things  long  past: 
Though  Richard  my  life's  counsel  would  not  hear, 
My  death's  sad  tale  may  yet  undeaf  his  ear. 

York.     No;    it  is   stopp'd  with   other   flattering 

sounds, 

As  praises,  of  whose  taste  the  wise  are  fond, 
Lascivious  metres,  to  whose  venom  sound 
The  open  ear  of  youth  doth  always  listen;  «o 

Report  of  fashions  in  proud  Italy, 


28  KING   KH  HARD  II  (ACT  Two 

Whose  manners  still  our  tardy  apish  nation 

Limps  after  in  base  imitation. 

Where  doth  the  world  thrust  forth  a  vanity  — 

So  it  l>e  new,  there  's  no  respect  how  vile  — 

That  is  not  quickly  buzz'd  into  his  ears? 

Then  all  too  late  comes  counsel  to  be  heard, 

Where  will  doth  mutiny  with  wit's  regard. 

Direct  not  him  whose  way  himself  will  choose: 

T  is  breath  thou  lack'st,  and  that  breath  wilt  thou 

lose. 

Gaunt.     Methinks  I  am  a  prophet  new  inspired 
And  thus  expiring  do  foretell  of  him: 
His  rash  fierce  blaze  of  riot  cannot  last, 
For  violent  fires  soon  burn  out  themselves; 
Small  showers  last  long,  but  sudden  storms  are  short; 
He  tires  betimes  that  spurs  too  fast  betimes; 
With  eager  feeding  food  doth  choke  the  feeder: 
Light  vanity,  insatiate  cormorant, 
Consuming  means,  soon  preys  upon  itself. 
This  royal  throne  of  kings,  this  scepter'd  isle, 
This  earth  of  majesty,  this  seat  of  Mars, 
This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise, 
This  fortress  built  by  Nature  for  herself 
Against  infection  and  the  hand  of  war, 
This  happy  breed  of  men,  this  little  world, 
This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall 
Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 
Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands, 
This  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 
This  nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  kings, 
F^ar'd  by  their  breed  and  famous  by  their  birth, 


SCENE  ONE]  KING  RICHARD   II  27 

Renowned  for  their  deeds  as  far  from  home, 

For  Christian  service  and  true  chivalry, 

As  is  the  sepulchre  in  stubborn  Jewry 

Of  the  world's  ransom,  blessed  Mary's  Son, 

This  land  of  such  dear  souls,  this  dear  dear  land, 

Dear  for  her  reputation  through  the  world, 

Is  now  leased  out,  I  die  pronouncing  it, 

Like  to  a  tenement  or  pelting  farm:  <w 

England,  bound  in  with  the  triumphant  sea, 

Whose  rocky  shore  beats  back  the  envious  siege 

Of  watery  Neptune,  is  now  bound  in  writh  shame, 

With  inky  blots  and  rotten  parchment  bonds: 

That  England,  that  was  wont  to  conquer  others, 

Hath  made  a  shameful  conquest  of  itself. 

Ah,  would  the  scandal  vanish  with  my  life, 

How  happy  then  were  my  ensuing  death ! 

Enter  KING  RICHARD    and    QUEEN,  AUMERLE,  BUSHY, 
GREEN,  BAGOT,  Ross,  and  WILLOUGHBY 

York.     The  king  is  come:  deal    mildly    with    his 

youth ; 
For  young  hot  colts  being  raged  do  rage  the  more.      70 

Queen.     How  fares  our  noble  uncle,  Lancaster? 

K.  Rich.     What  comfort,  man?    how  is  't  with 
aged  Gaunt? 

Gaunt.  O,  how  that  name  befits  my  composition ! 
Old  Gaunt  indeed,  and  Gaunt  in  being  old: 
Within  me  grief  hath  kept  a  tedious  fast; 
And  who  abstains  from  meat  that  is  not  gaunt? 
For  sleeping  England  long  time  have  I  watch'd; 
Watching  breeds  leanness,  leanness  is  all  gaunt: 
The  pleasure  that  some  fathers  feed  upon 


28  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  Two 

Is  my  strict  fast;  I  mean,  my  children's  looks;  8< 

And  therein  fasting,  hast  thou  made  me  gaunt: 
(Jaunt  am  I  for  the  grave,  gaunt  as  a  grave, 
\Vhose  hollow  womb  inherits  nought  but  bones. 

K.  Rich.     Can  sick  men  play  so  nicely  with  their 
names? 

daunt.     No,  misery  makes  sport  to  mock  itself; 
Since  thou  dost  seek  to  kill  my  name  in  me, 
I  mock  my  name,  great  king,  to  flatter  thee. 

A'.  Rich.     Should  dying  men  flatter  with  those  that 
live? 

Gaunt.     No,  no,  men  living  flatter  those  that  die. 

A'.  Rich.     Thou,  now  a-dying,  say'st  thou  flat- 

terest  me.  e< 

Gaunt.     O,  no!  thou  diest,  though  I  the  sicker  l>e. 

K.  Rich.    I  am  in  health,  I  breathe,  and  see  thee  ill. 

Gaunt.     Now  He  that  made  me  knows  I  see  thee  ill; 
111  in  myself  to  see,  and  in  thee  seeing  ill. 
Thy  death-bed  is  no  lesser  than  thy  land 
Wherein  thou  liest  in  reputation  sick; 
And  thou,  too  careless  patient  as  thou  art, 
Comrait'st  thy  anointed  body  to  the  cure 
Of  those  physicians  that  first  wounded  thee: 
A  thousand  flatterers  sit  within  thy  crown,  ioc 

Whose  compass  is  no  bigger  than  thy  head; 
And  yet,  incaged  in  so  small  a  verge, 
The  waste  is  no  whit  lesser  than  thy  land. 
O,  had  thy  grandsire  with  a  prophet's  eye 
Seen  how  his  son's  son  should  destroy  his  sons. 
From  forth  thy  reach  he  would  have  laid  thy  shame, 
Deposing  thee  before  thou  wert  possess'd, 
\Vhich  art  possess'd  now  to  depose  thyself. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD    II  29 

Why,  cousin,  wert  thou  regent  of  the  world, 

It  were  a  shame  to  let  this  land  by  lease;  no 

But  for  thy  world  enjoying  but  this  land, 

Is  it  not  more  than  shame  to  shame  it  so? 

Landlord  of  England  art  thou  now,  not  king: 

Thy  state  of  law  is  bondslave  to  the  law; 

And  thou  — 

K.  Rich.         A  lunatic  lean-witted  fool, 
Presuming  on  an  ague's  privilege, 
Darest  with  thy  frozen  admonition 
Make  pale  our  cheek,  chasing  the  royal  blood 
With  fury  from  his  native  residence. 
Now,  by  my  seat's  right  royal  majesty,  i«o 

Wert  thou  not  brother  to  great  Edward's  son, 
This  tongue  that  runs  so  roundly  in  thy  head 
Should  run  thy  head  from  thy  unreverent  shoulders. 

Gaunt.    O,  spare  me  not,  my  brother  Edward's  son, 
For  that  I  was  his  father  Edward's  son; 
That  blood  already,  like  the  pelican, 
Hast  thou  tapp'd  out  and  drunkenly  caroused: 
My  brother  Gloucester,  plain  well-meaning  soul, 
Whom  fair  bef al  in  heaven  'mongst  happy  souls ! 
May  be  a  precedent  and  witness  good  is< 

That  thou  respect'st  not  spilling  Edward's  blood: 
Join  with  the  present  sickness  that  I  have; 
And  thy  unkindness  be  like  crooked  age, 
To  crop  at  once  a  too  long  wither'd  flower. 
Live  in  thy  shame,  but  die  not  shame  with  thee! 
These  words  hereafter  thy  tormentors  be! 
Convey  me  to  my  bed,  then  to  my  grave: 
Love  they  to  live  that  love  and  honour  have. 

[Exit,  borne  off  by  his  Attendants. 


so  KING  RICHARD  II  (ACT  Two 

A'.  /.'<//.     And  let  them  die  that  age  and  su  liens 

have; 

For  both  hast  thou,  and  both  become  the  grave.        i«« 
York.     I  do  beseech  your  majesty,  impute  his 

words 

To  wayward  sickliness  and  age  in  him: 
lie  loves  you,  on  my  life,  and  holds  you  dear 
As  Harry  Duke  of  Hereford,  were  he  here. 
K.  Rich.     Right,  you  say  true :  as  Hereford's  love, 

so  his; 
As  theirs,  so  mine;  and  aJJ  be  as  it  is. 

Enter  NORTHUMBERLAND 

North.     My  liege,  old  Gaunt  commends  him  to 
your  majesty. 

K.  Rich.     What  says  he? 

North.  Nay,  nothing;  all  is  said: 

His  tongue  is  now  a  stringless  instrument; 
Words,  life  and  all,  old  Lancaster  hath  spent.  is< 

York.      Be  York  the  next  that  must  be  bank- 
rupt so! 
Though  death  be  poor,  it  ends  a  mortal  woe. 

K.  Rich.   The  ripest  fruit  first  falls,  and  so  doth  he; 
His  time  is  spent,  our  pilgrimage  must  be. 
So  much  for  that.     Now  for  our  Irish  wars: 
We  must  supplant  those  rough  rug-headed  kerns, 
Which  live  like  venom  where  no  venom  else 
But  only  they  have  privilege  to  live. 
And  for  these  great  affairs  do  ask  some  charge, 
Towards  our  assistance  we  do  seize  to  us  »«« 

The  plate,  coin,  revenues  and  moveables, 
Whereof  our  uncle  Gaunt  did  stand  possess'd. 


SCENE  ONE)  KING   felCHARt)   II  *1 

York.     How  long  shall  I  be  patient?  ah,  how  long 
Shall  tender  duty  make  me  suffer  wrong? 
Not  Gloucester's  death,  nor  Hereford's  banishment, 
Not  Gaunt's  rebukes,  nor  England's  private  wrongs, 
Nor  the  prevention  of  poor  Bolingbroke 
About  his  marriage,  nor  my  own  disgrace, 
Have  ever  made  me  sour  my  patient  cheek, 
Or  bend  one  wrinkle  on  my  sovereign's  face.  no 

I  am  the  last  of  noble  Edward's  sons, 
Of  whom  thy  father,  Prince  of  Wales,  was  first: 
In  war  was  never  lion  raged  more  fierce, 
In  peace  was  never  gentle  lamb  more  mild, 
Than  was  that  young  and  princely  gentleman. 
His  face  thou  hast,  for  even  so  look'd  he, 
Accomplish'd  with  the  number  of  thy  hours; 
But  when  he  frown'd,  it  was  against  the  French 
And  not  against  his  friends;  his  noble  hand 
Did  win  what  he  did  spend  and  spent  not  that          iso 
Which  his  triumphant  father's  hand  had  won; 
His  hands  were  guilty  of  no  kindred  blood, 
But  bloody  with  the  enemies  of  his  kin. 
O  Richard !    York  is  too  far  gone  with  grief, 
Or  else  he  never  would  compare  between. 

K.  Rich.     Why,  uncle,  what's  the  matter? 

York.  O  my  liege, 

Pardon  me,  if  you  please;  if  not,  I,  pleased 
Not  to  be  pardon'd,  am  content  withal. 
Seek  you  to  seize  and  gripe  into  your  hands 
The  royalties  and  rights  of  banish'd  Hereford?          i»< 
Is  not  Gaunt  dead,  and  doth  not  Hereford  live? 
Was  not  Gaunt  just,  and  is  not  Harry  true? 
Did  not  the  one  deserve  to  have  an  heir? 


tt  KING   UIC11AK1)  11  |.\.  i- Two 

Is  not  his  heir  a  well-deserving  son? 

Take  Hen-ford's  rights  away,  and  take  from  Time 

His  charters  and  his  customary  rights; 

IA«I  not  to-morrow  then  ensue  to-day, 

lie  not  thyself;  for  how  art  thou  a  king 

Hut  by  fair  sequence  and  succession? 

\ow,  afore  God  —  God  forbid  1  say  true!  —  toi 

If  you  do  wrongfully  seize  Hereford's  rights, 

Call  in  the  letters  patents  that  he  hath 

By  his  attorneys-general  to  sue 

His  livery,  and  deny  his  offer'd  homage. 

You  pluck  a  thousand  dangers  on  your  head. 

You  lose  a  thousand  well-disfxised  hearts 

And  prick  my  tender  patience  to  those  thoughts 

Which  honour  and  allegiance  cannot  think. 

A'.  Rich.     Think  what  you  will,  we  seizx*  into  our 

hands 
His  plate,  his  goods,  his  money  and  his  lands.  *i.i 

York.     I '11  not  be  by  the  while:  my  liege. farewell: 
What  will  ensue  hereof,  there's  none  can  tell; 
But  by  bad  courses  may  be  understood 
That  their  events  can  never  fall  out  good.         \Eril. 

K.  Rich.     Go,  Bushy,  to  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire 

straight: 

Bid  him  repair  to  us  to  Ely  House 
To  see  this  business.     To-morrow  next 
We  will  for  Ireland;   and  't  is  time,  I  trow: 
And  we  create,  in  absence  of  ourself, 
Our  uncle  York  lord  governor  of  England;  t«f 

For  he  is  just  and  always  loved  us  well. 
Come  on,  our  queen:   to-morrow  must  we  part; 
Be  merry,  for  our  time  of  stay  is  short.       [Flourish. 
Exeunt  King,  Queen,  Aumerle.  Bushy,  Green,  arid  Bagot. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING    RICHARD   II  S3 

North.     Well,  lords,  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  is  dead. 

Ross.     And  living  too:  for  now  his  son  is  duke. 

Willo.     Barely  in  title,  not  in  revenue. 

North.     Richly  in  both,  if  justice  had  her  right. 

Ross.     My  heart  is  great;    but  it  must  break  with 

silence, 
Ere't  be  disburden'd  with  a  liberal  tongue. 

North.     Nay,  speak  thy  mind;  and  let  him  ne'er 

speak  more  «so 

That  speaks  thy  words  again  to  do  thee  harm! 

Willo.    Tends  that  thou  wouldst  speak  to  the  Duke 

of  Hereford? 

If  it  be  so,  out  with  it  boldly,  man; 
Quick  is  mine  ear  to  hear  of  good  towards  him. 

Ross.     No  good  at  all  that  I  can  do  for  him; 
Unless  you  call  it  good  to  pity  him, 
Bereft  and  gelded  of  his  patrimony. 

North.     Now,  afore  God,  't  is  shame  such  wrongs 

are  borne 

In  him,  a  royal  prince,  and  many  moe 
Of  noble  blood  in  this  declining  land.  «4o 

The  king  is  not  himself,  but  basely  led 
By  flatterers;   and  what  they  will  inform, 
Merely  in  hate,  'gainst  any  of  us  all, 
That  will  the  king  severely  prosecute 
'Gainst  us,  our  lives,  our  children,  and  our  heirs. 

Ross.    The  commons  hath  he  pill'd  with  grievous 

taxes, 

And  quite  lost  their  hearts:  the  nobles  hath  he  fined 
For  ancient  quarrels,  and  quite  lost  their  hearts. 

Willo.     And  daily  new  exactions  are  devised, 
As  blanks,  benevolences,  and  I  wot  not  what:  *so 


84  KING   RICHARD   II  [ACT  Two 

Hut  what,  o'  God's  name,  doth  become  of  this? 

North.     Wars  have  not  wasted  it,  for  warr'd  he 

hath  not, 

Hut  basely  yielded  upon  compromise 
That  which  his  noble  ancestors  achieved  with  blows: 
More  hath  lie  spent  in  peace  than  they  in  wars. 

/toss.     The  Earl  of  Wiltshire  hath  the  realm  in 
farm. 

\Villo.     The  king's  grown  bankrupt,  like  a  broken 
man. 

North.     Reproach   and  dissolution   hangeth  over 
him. 

Ross.     lie  hath  not  money  for  these  Irish  wars, 
His  burthenous  taxations  notwithstanding,  coo 

But  by  the  robbing  of  the  banish 'd  duke. 

North.     His  noble  kinsman :  most  degenerate  king! 
Hut,  lords,  we  hear  this  fearful  tempest  sing, 
Yet  seek  no  shelter  to  avoid  the  storm; 
We  see  the  wind  sit  sore  upon  our  sails. 
And  yet  we  strike  not,  but  securely  perish. 

Ross.     We  see  the  very  wreck  that  we  must  sufTer; 
And  unavoided  is  the  danger  now, 
For  suffering  so  the  causes  of  our  wreck. 

North.    Not  so;    even  through  the  hollow  eyes 

of  death  t?o 

I  spy  life  peering;  but  I  dare  not  say 
How  near  the  tidings  of  our  comfort  is. 

Willo.     Nay,  let  us  share  thy  thoughts,  as  thou 
dost  ours. 

Ross.     Be  confident  to  speak,  Northumberland: 
We  three  are  but  thyself;  and,  speaking  so, 
Thy  words  are  but  as  thoughts;   therefore,  be  bold. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  85 

North.     Then  thus :  I  have  from  Port  le  Blanc,  a 

bay 

In  Brittany,  received  intelligence 
That  Harry  Duke  of  Hereford,  Rainold  Lord  Cobhara, 

.  280 

That  late  broke  from  the  Duke  of  Exeter, 

His  brother,  Archbishop  late  of  Canterbury, 

Sir  Thomas  Erpingham,  Sir  John  Ramston, 

Sir  John  Norbery,  Sir  Robert  Waterton  and  Francis 

Quoint, 

All  these  well  furnish'd  by  the  Duke  of  Bretagne 
With  eight  tall  ships,  three  thousand  men  of  war, 
Are  making  hither  with  all  due  expedience 
And  shortly  mean  to  touch  our  northern  shore: 
Perhaps  they  had  ere  this,  but  that  they  stay 
The  first  departing  of  the  king  for  Ireland.  we 

If  then  we  shall  shake  off  our  slavish  yoke, 
Imp  out  our  drooping  country's  broken  wing, 
Redeem  from  broking  pawn  the  blemish 'd  crown, 
Wipe  off  the  dust  that  hides  our  sceptre's  gilt 
And  make  high  majesty  look  like  itself, 
Away  with  me  in  post  to  Ravenspurgh; 
But  if  you  faint,  as  fearing  to  do  so, 
Stay  and  be  secret,  and  myself  will  go. 

Ross.     To  horse,  to  horse!   urge  doubts  to  them 
that  fear. 

Willo.    Hold   out  my  horse,  and  I  will  first  be 

there,  soo 

[Exevnt. 


30  KINO   RICHARD  II  lAcr  Two 

STENE  II  —  Windsor  Caslle 
Kntfr  QUEEN,  BUSHT,  and  BAGOT 

Bushy.     Madam,  your  majesty  is  too  much  sad: 
You  promised,  when  you  parted  with  the  king, 
To  lay  aside  life-harming  heaviness 
And  entertain  a  cheerful  disposition. 

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  fortune's  womb, 
Is  coming  towards  me,  and  my  inward  soul 
With  nothing  trembles:  at  some  thing  it  grieves. 
More  than  with  parting  from  my  lord  the  king. 

Bushy.     Each  substance  of  a  grief   hath  twenty 

shadows, 

Which  shows  like  grief  itself,  but  is  not  so; 
For  sorrow's  eye,  glazed  with  blinding  tears, 
Divides  one  thing  entire  to  many  objects; 
Like  perspectives,  .which  rightly  gazed  upon 
Show  nothing  but  confusion,  eyed  awry 
Distinguish  form:  so  your  sweet  majesty, 
Looking  awry  upon  your  lord's  departure, 
Finds  shapes  of  grief,  more  than  himself,  to  wail; 
Which,  look'd  on  as  it  is,  is  nought  but  shadows 
Of  what  it  is  not.     Then,  thrice-gracious  queen, 
More  than  your  lord's  departure  weep  not:  more's 

not  seen; 

Or  if  it  l>e.  't  is  with  false  sorrow's  eye, 
Which  for  things  true  weeps  things  imaginary. 


SCENE  Two]  KING   RIGHARD  II  37 

Queen.     It  may  be  so;  but  yet  my  inward  soul 
Persuades  me  it  is  otherwise:  howe'er  it  be, 
I  cannot  but  be  sad;  so  heavy  sad  *> 

As,  though  on  thinking  on  no  thought  I  think, 
Makes  me  with  heavy  nothing  faint  and  shrink. 

Bushy.     'T  is  nothing  but  conceit,  my  gracious 
lady. 

Queen.     'T  is  nothing  less :  conceit  is  still  derived 
From  some  forefather  grief;  mine  is  not  so, 
For  nothing  hath  begot  my  something  grief; 
Or  something  hath  the  nothing  that  I  grieve: 
'T  is  in  reversion  that  I  do  possess; 
But  what  it  is,  that  is  not  yet  known;  what 
I  cannot  name;  't  is  nameless  woe,  I  wot.  40 

Enter  GREEN 

Green.     God  save  your  majesty!    and  well  met, 

gentlemen: 
I  hope  the  king  is  not  yet  shipp'd  for  Ireland. 

Queen.     Why  hopest  thou  so?   't  is   better  hope 

he  is; 

For  his  designs  crave  haste,  his  haste  good  hope: 
Then  wherefore  dost  thou  hope  he  is  not  shipp'd? 

Green.     That  he,  our  hope,  might  have  retired  his 

power, 

And  driven  into  despair  an  enemy's  hope, 
Who  strongly  hath  set  footing  in  this  land : 
The  banish'd  Bolingbroke  repeals  himself, 
And  with  uplifted  arms  is  safe  arrived  x 

At  Ravenspurgh. 

Queen.  Now  God  in  heaven  forbid! 


38  KING  RICHARD  U  [Acr  Two 

Green.     Ah,  madam,  'tis  too  true:  and   that  is 

worse, 
The  Lord  Northumberland,  his  son  young  Henry 

Percy, 

The  Lords  of  Ross,  Beaumond,  and  Willoughby, 
With  all  their  powerful  friends,  are  fled  to  him. 

Buxhy.     Why  have  you  not  proclaimed  Northum- 
berland 
And  all  the  rest  revolted  faction  traitors? 

Green.     We  have:  whereupon  the  Earl  of  Worces- 
ter 

Hath  broke  his  staff,  resign 'd  his  stewardship, 
And  all  the  household  servants  fled  with  him  eo 

To  Bolingbroke. 

Queen.    So,  Green,  thou  art  the  midwife  to  my 

woe, 

And  Bolingbroke  my  sorrow's  dismal  heir: 
Now  hath  my  soul  brought  forth  her  prodigy, 
And  I,  a  gasping  new-deliver'd  mother, 
Have  woe  to  woe,  sorrow  to  sorrow  join'd. 

Bushy.     Despair  not,  madam. 

Queen.  Who  shall  hinder  me? 

I  will  despair,  and  be  at  enmity 
With  cozening  hope:  he  is  a  flatterer, 
A  parasite,  a  keeper  back  of  death,  TC 

Who  gently  would  dissolve  the  bands  of  life, 
Which  false  hope  lingers  in  extremity. 

Enter  YORK 

Green.     Here  comes  the  Duke  of  York. 
Queen.     With  signs  of  war  about  his  aged  neck: 
O,  full  of  careful  business  are  his  looks! 


SCENE  Two]          KING  RICHARD  II  39 

Uncle,  for  God's  sake,  speak  comfortable  words. 

York.     Should  I  do  so,  I  should  belie  my  thoughts: 
Comfort 's  hi  heaven;  and  we  are  on  the  earth, 
Where  nothing  lives  but  crosses,  cares  and  grief. 
Your  husband,  he  is  gone  to  save  far  off,  so 

Whilst  others  come  to  make  him  lose  at  home: 
Here  am  I  left  to  underprop  his  land, 
Who,  weak  with  age,  cannot  support  myself: 
Now  comes  the  sick  hour  that  his  surfeit  made; 
Now  shall  he  try  his  friends  that  flatter'd  him. 

Enter  a  Servant 

Serv.    My  lord,  your  son  was  gone  before  I  came. 

York.     He  was?     Why,  so!   go  all  which  way  it 

will! 

The  nobles  they  are  fled,  the  commons  they  are  cold, 
And  will,  I  fear,  revolt  on  Hereford's  side. 
Sirrah,  get  thee  to  Flashy,  to  my  sister  Gloucester;     »i 
Bid  her  send  me  presently  a  thousand  pound: 
Hold,  take  my  ring. 

Serv.     My  lord,  I  had  forgot  to  tell  your  lordship, 
To-day,  as  I  came  by,  I  called  there; 
But  I  shall  grieve  you  to  report  the  rest. 

York.     What  is  't,  knave? 

Serv.     An  hour  before  I  came,  the  duchess  died. 

York.     God  for  his  mercy!  what  a  tide  of  woes 
Comes  rushing  on  this  woeful  land  at  once! 
I  know  not  what  to  do:  I  would  to  God,  100 

So  my  untruth  had  not  provoked  him  to  it, 
The  king  had  cut  off  my  head  with  my  brother's. 
What,  are  there  no  posts  dispatch'd  for  Ireland? 
How  shall  we  do  for  money  for  these  wars? 


40  KING   K1CIIAUD  II  (Ac-r  Two 

Come,  sister, —  cousin,  I  would  say, —  pray,  pardon 

me. 

(Jo,  fellow,  get  thee  home,  provide  some  carts 
And  bring  away  the  armour  that  is  there. 

[Exit  Servant. 

Gentlemen,  will  you  go  muster  men? 

If  I  know  how  or  which  way  to  order  these  affairs 

Thus  thrust  disorderly  into  my  hands,  no 

Never  believe  me.     Both  are  my  kinsmen. 

Th'  one  is  my  sovereign,  whom  both  my  oath 

And  duty  bids  defend;   th'  other  again 

Is  my  kinsman,  whom  the  king  hath  wrong'd, 

Whom  conscience  and  my  kindred  bids  to  right. 

Well,  somewhat  we  must  do.     Come,  cousin.  I  Ml 

Dispose  of  you. 

Gentlemen,  go,  muster  up  your  men, 

And  meet  me  presently  at  Berkeley. 

I  should  to  Plashy  too;  m 

But  time  will  not  permit:  all  is  uneven, 

And  everything  is  left  at  six  and  seven. 

[Exeunt  York  and  Queen. 

Bushy.     The  wind  sits  fair  for  news  to  go  to  Ire- 
land, 

But  none  returns.     For  us  to  levy  power 
Proportionable  to  the  enemy 
Is  all  un possible. 

Green.     Besides,  our  nearness  to  the  king  in  love 
Is  near  the  hate  of  those  love  not  the  king. 

Bagot.     And  that's  the  wavering  commons     for 

their  love 

Lies  in  their  purses,  and  whoso  empties  them  iso 

By  so  much  fills  their  hearts  with  deadly  hate. 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   1UCHARD   II  41 

Bushy.     Wherein  the  king  stands  generally  con- 
demn'd. 

Bagot.     If  judgment  lie  in  them,  then  so  do  we, 
Because  we  ever  have  been  near  the  king. 

Green.     Well,  I  will  for  refuge  straight  to  Bristol 

castle : 
The  Earl  of  Wiltshire  is  already  there. 

Bushy.     Thither  will  I  with  you;  for  little  office 
The  hateful  commons  will  perform  for  us, 
Except  like  curs  to  tear  us  all  to  pieces. 
Will  you  go  along  with  us?  HO 

Bagot.     No;  I  will  to  Ireland  to  his  majesty. 
Farewell:   if  heart's  presages  be  not  vain, 
We  three  here  part  that  ne'er  shall  meet  again. 

Bushy.     That  's  as  York  thrives  to  beat  back  Bol- 
*  ingbroke. 

Green.     Alas,  poor  duke!  the  task  he  undertakes 
Is  numbering  sands  and  drinking  oceans  dry : 
Where  one  on  his  side  fights,  thousands  will  fly. 
Farewell  at  once,  for  once,  for  all,  and  ever. 

Bushy.     Well,  we  may  meet  again. 

Bagot.  I  fear  me,  never. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Wilds  in  Gloucestershire 
Enter  BOLINGBROKE  and  NORTHUMBERLAND,  with  Forces 

Baling.     How  far  is  it,  my  lord,  to  Berkeley  now? 

North.     Believe  me,  noble  lord, 
I  am  a  stranger  here  in  Gloucestershire: 
These  high  wild  hills  and  rough  uneven  ways 
Draws  out  our  miles,  and  makes  them  wearisome; 
And  yet  your  fair  discourse  hath  been  as  sugar, 


41  KING  RICHARD  II  [ACT  Two 

Making  the  hard  way  sweet  and  delectable. 
Hut  I  bethink  me  what  a  weary  way 
From  Ravenspurgh  to  Cotswold  will  be  found 
In  Ross  and  Willoughby,  wanting  your  company,       10 
Which,  I  protest,  hath  very  much  beguiled 
The  tediousness  and  process  of  my  travel: 
Hut  theirs  is  sweetened  with  the  hope  to  have 
The  present  benefit  which  I  possess; 
And  hope  to  joy  is  little  less  in  joy 
Than  hope  en  joy 'd:  by  this  the  weary  lords 
Shall  make  their  way  seem  short,  as  mine  hath  done 
By  sight  of  what  I  have,  your  noble  company. 
Doling.     Of  much  less  value  is  my  company 
Than  your  good  words.     But  who  comes  here?  to 

Enter  HENRY  PERCY 

North.     It  is  my  son,  young  Harry  Percy, 
Sent  from  my  brother  Worcester,  whencesoever. 
Harry,  how  fares  your  uncle? 

Percy.     I  had  thought,  my  lord,  to  have  learn'd 
his  health  of  you. 

North.     Why,  is  he  not  with  the  queen? 

Percy.     No,  my  good  Lord;   he  hath  forsook  the 

court, 

Broken  his  staff  of  office  and  dispersed 
The  household  of  the  king. 

North.  What  was  his  reason? 

He  was  not  so  resolved  when  last  we  spake  together. 

Percy.     Because  your   lordship   was   proclaimed 

traitor.  st 

But  he,  my  lord,  is  gone  to  Ravenspurgh, 
To  offer  service  to  the  Duke  of  Hereford, 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  43 

And  sent  me  over  by  Berkeley,  to  discover 
What  power  the  Duke  of  York  had  levied  there; 
Then  with  directions  to  repair  to  Ravenspurgh. 

North.     Have  you  forgot  the  Duke  of  Hereford, 
boy? 

Percy.     No,  my  good  lord,  for  that  is  not  forgot 
Which  ne'er  I  did  remember:  to  my  knowledge, 
I  never  in  my  life  did  look  on  him. 

North.     Then  learn  to  know  him  now;  this  is  the 

duke.  40 

Percy.     My  gracious  lord,  I  tender  you  my  service, 
Such  as  it  is,  being  tender,  raw  and  young; 
Which  elder  days  shall  ripen  and  confirm 
To  more  approved  service  and  desert. 

Baling.     I  thank  thee,  gentle  Percy;  and  be  sure 
I  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy 
As  in  a  soul  remembering  my  good  friends; 
And,  as  my  fortune  ripens  with  thy  love, 
It  shall  be  still  thy  true  love's  recompense: 
My  heart  this  covenant  makes,  my  hand  thus  seals  it.   so 

North.     How  far  is  it  to  Berkeley?  and  what  stir 
Keeps  good  old  York  there  with  his  men  of  war? 

Percy.     There  stands  the  castle,  by  yon  tuft  of 

trees, 

Mann'd  with  three  hundred  men,  as  I  have  heard; 
And  in  it  are  the  Lords  of  York,  Berkeley,  and  Sey- 
mour; 
None  else  of  name  and  noble  estimate. 

Enter  Ross  and  WILI/OCGHBY 

North.     Here  come  the  Lords  of  Ross  and  Will- 
oughby, 


44  KING   1UCHARD   II  (Aer  Two 

Bloody  with  spurring,  fiery-red  with  haste. 

Holing.     Welcome,  my  lords.     I  wot  your  love 

pursues 

A  banish 'd  traitor:    all  my  treasury  e< 

Is  yet  hut  unfelt  thanks,  which  more  enrich'd 
Shall  be  your  love  and  labour's  recompense. 

Ross.     Your  presence  makes  us  rich,  most  noble 

lord. 

Willo.     And  far  surmounts  our  labour  to  attain  it. 
Baling.     Evermore  thanks,  the  exchequer  of  the 

poor; 

Which,  till  my  infant  fortune  comes  to  years, 
Stands  for  my  bounty.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  BERKELEY 

North.     It  is  my  lord  of  Berkeley,  as  I  guess. 

Berk.     My  Lord  of  Hereford,  my  message  is  to  you. 

Boling.     My  lord,  my  answer  is  —  to  Lancaster;     71 
And  I  am  come  to  seek  that  name  in  England; 
And  I  must  find  that  title  in  your  tongue, 
Before  I  make  reply  to  aught  you  say. 

Berk.     Mistake  me  not,  my  lord;    't  is  not  my 

meaning 

To  raze  one  title  of  your  honour  out: 
To  you,  my  lord,  I  come,  what  lord  you  will, 
From  the  most  gracious  regent  of  this  land, 
The  Duke  of  York,  to  know  what  pricks  you  on 
To  take  advantage  of  the  absent  time 
And  fright  our  native  peace  with  self  borne  arms.        »< 


SCENE  THKEE]        KING    RICHARD   II  4* 

Enter  YORK  attended 

Baling.     I  shall  not  need  transport  my  words  by 

you; 
Here  comes  his  grace  in  person. 

My  noble  uncle! 
[Kneels. 

York.     Show  me  thy  humble  heart,  and  not  thy 

knee, 
Whose  duty  is  deceivable  and  false. 

Baling.     My  gracious  uncle  — 

York.     Tut,  tut! 

Grace  me  no  grace,  nor  uncle  me  no  uncle: 
I  am  no  traitor's  uncle;  and  that  word  '  grace ' 
In  an  ungracious  mouth  is  but  profane. 
Why  have  those  banish'd  and  forbidden  legs  «c 

Dared  once  to  touch  a  dust  of  England's  ground? 
But  then  more  '  why? '  why  have  they  dared  to  march 
So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom, 
Frighting  her  pale-faced  villages  with  war 
And  ostentation  of  despised  arms? 
Comest  thou  because  the  anointed  king  is  hence? 
Why,  foolish  boy,  the  king  is  left  behind, 
And  in  my  loyal  bosom  lies  his  power. 
Were  I  but  now  the  lord  of  such  hot  youth 
As  when  brave  Gaunt,  thy  father,  and  myself  lor 

Rescued  the  Black  Prince,  that  young  Mars  of  men, 
From  forth  the  ranks  of  many  thousand  French, 
O,  then  how  quickly  should  this  arm  of  mine, 
Now  prisoner  to  the  palsy,  chastise  thee 
And  minister  correction  to  thy  fault! 

Baling .     My  gracious  uncle,  let  me  know  my  fault: 
On  what  condition  stands  it  and  wherein? 


46  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  Two 

York.     Even  in  condition  of  the  worst  degree, 
In  gross  rebellion  and  detested  treason: 
Thou  art  a  banish 'd  man,  and  here  art  come  no 

Hefore  the  expiration  of  thy  time, 
In  braving  arms  against  thy  sovereign. 

Baling.     As  I  was  banish 'd,  I  was  banish'd  Here- 
ford; 

But  as  I  come,  I  come  for  Lancaster. 
And,  noble  uncle,  I  beseech  your  grace 
Look  on  my  wrongs  with  an  indifferent  eye: 
You  are  my  father,  for  methinks  in  you 
I  see  old  Gaunt  alive;  O,  then,  my  father, 
Will  you  permit  that  I  shall  stand  condemn'd 
A  wandering  vagabond;  my  rights  and  royalties        no 
Pluck'd  from  my  arms  perforce  and  given  away 
To  upstart  untlirifts?     Wherefore  was  I  born? 
If  that  my  cousin  king  be  King  of  England, 
It  must  be  granted  I  am  Duke  of  Lancaster. 
You  have  a  son,  Aumerle,  my  noble  cousin; 
Had  you  first  died,  and  he  been  thus  trod  down, 
He  should  have  found  his  uncle  Gaunt  a  father, 
To  rouse  his  wrongs  and  chase  them  to  the  bay. 
I  am  denied  to  sue  my  livery  here, 
And  yet  my  letters  patents  give  me  leave:  i» 

My  father's  goods  are  all  distrain'd  and  sold, 
And  these  and  all  are  all  amiss  employ 'd. 
What  would  you  have  me  do?     I  am  a  subject, 
And  I  challenge  law:  attorneys  are  denied  me; 
And  therefore  personally  I  lay  my  claim 
To  my  inheritance  of  free  descent. 

North.     The   noble   duke   hath   been   too   much 
abused. 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  47 

Ross.     It  stands  your  grace  upon  to  do  him  right. 

Willo.     Base  men  by  his  endowments  are  made 
great. 

York.     My   lords   of    England,  let   me  tell  you 

this:  IK 

I  have  had  feeling  of  my  cousin's  wrongs 
And  laboured  all  I  could  to  do  him  right; 
But  in  this  kind  to  come,  in  braving  arms, 
Be  his  own  carver  and  cut  out  his  way, 
To  find  out  right  with  wrong,  it  may  not  be; 
And  you  that  do  abet  him  in  this  kind 
Cherish  rebellion  and  are  rebels  all. 

North.    The  noble  duke  hath  sworn  his  coming  is 
But  for  his  own;  and  for  the  right  of  that 
We  all  have  strongly  sworn  to  give  him  aid;  iso 

And  let  him  ne'er  see  joy  that  breaks  that  oath ! 

York.    Well,  well,  I  see  the  issue  of  these  arms: 
I  cannot  mend  it,  I  must  needs  confess, 
Because  my  power  is  weak  and  all  ill  left: 
But  if  I  could,  by  Him  that  gave  me  life, 
I  would  attach  you  all  and  make  you  stoop 
Unto  the  sovereign  mercy  of  the  king; 
But  since  I  cannot,  be  it  known  to  you 
I  do  remain  as  neuter.     So,  fare  you  well; 
Unless  you  please  to  enter  in  the  castle  ict 

And  there  repose  you  for  this  night. 

Baling .    An  offer,  uncle,  that  we  will  accept: 
But  we  must  win  your  grace  to  go  with  us 
To  Bristol  castle,  which  they  say  is  held 
By  Bushy,  Bagot  and  their  complices, 
The  caterpillars  of  the  commonwealth, 
Which  I  have  sworn  to  weed  and  pluck  away. 


48  KING   RICHARD  II  [Acr  Two 

York.     It  may  be  I  will  go  with  you:  but  yet  I  '11 

pause; 

For  I  am  loath  to  break  our  country's  laws. 
Nor  friends  nor  foes,  to  me  welcome  you  are:  i?c 

Things  past  redress  are  now  with  me  past  care. 

SCENE  IV  —  A  camp  in  Wale» 
Enter  SALISBURY  and  a  Welsh  Captain 

Cap.     My  Lord  of  Salisbury,  we  have  stay'd  ten 

days, 

And  hardly  kept  our  countrymen  together, 
And  yet  we  hear  no  tidings  from  the  king; 
Therefore  we  will  disperse  ourselves:  farewell. 

Sal.     Stay  yet  another  day,  thou  trusty  Welsh- 
man: 
The  king  reposeth  all  his  confidence  in  thee. 

Cap.     "T  is  thought  the  king  is  dead;  we  will  not 

stay. 

The  bay-trees  in  our  country  are  all  wither'd 
And  meteors  fright  the  fixed  stars  of  heaven ; 
The  pale-faced  moon  looks  bloody  on  the  earth  10 

And  lean-look'd  prophets  whisper  fearful  change; 
Rich  men  look  sad  and  ruffians  dance  and  leap, 
The  one  in  fear  to  lose  what  they  enjoy, 
The  other  to  enjoy  by  rage  and  war: 
These  signs  forerun  the  death  or  fall  of  kings. 
Farewell:  our  countrymen  are  gone  and  fled, 
As  well  assured  Richard  their  king  is  dead.       [Exit. 

Sal.     Ah,  Richard,  with  the  eyes  of  heavy  mind 
I  see  thy  glory  like  a  shooting  star 
Full  to  the  base  earth  from  the  firmament.  ir 


SCENE  ONE]  KING  RICHARD  II  49 

Thy  sun  sets  weeping  in  the  lowly  west, 
Witnessing  storms  to  come,  woe  and  unrest: 
Thy  friends  are  fled  to  wait  upon  thy  foes, 
And  crossly  to  thy  good  all  fortune  goes.  [Exit. 


ACT  III 

SCENE  I  —  Bristol.     Before  the  castle 

Enter  BOLINGBROKE,  YORK,  NORTHUMBERLAND,  Ross, 
PERCY,  WILLOUGHBY,  with  BUSHY  and  GREEN,  prig- 
oners 

Baling.     Bring  forth  these  men. 
Bushy  and  Green,  I  will  not  vex  your  souls  — 
Since  presently  your  souls  must  part  your  bodies  — 
With  too  much  urging  your  pernicious  li  ves, 
For  't  were  no  charity;  yet,  to  wash  your  blood 
From  off  my  hands,  here  in  the  view  of  men 
I  will  unfold  some  causes  of  your  deaths. 
You  have  misled  a  prince,  a  royal  king, 
A  happy  gentleman  in  blood  and  lineaments, 
By  you  unhappied  and  disfigured  clean:  11 

You  have  in  manner  with  your  sinful  hours 
Made  a  divorce  betwixt  his  queen  and  him, 
Broke  the  possession  of  a  royal  bed 
And  stain'd  the  beauty  of  a  fair  queen's  cheeks 
With  tears  from  her  eyes  by  your  foul  wrongs. 
Myself,  a  prince  by  fortune  of  my  birth, 
Near  to  the  king  in  blood,  and  near  in  love 
Till  you  did  make  him  misinterpret  me, 
Have  stoop'd  my  neck  under  your  injuries, 
And  sigh'd  my  English  breath  in  foreign  clouds,          so 


50  KING   RICHARD  H  (Aci  THRM 

Eating  the  bitter  bread  of  banishment; 

NY  h  ilst  you  have  fed  upon  my  signories, 

Dispark'd  my  parks  and  fell'd  my  forest  woods, 

From  my  own  windows  torn  my  household  coat, 

Kazed  out  my  imprese,  leaving  me  no  sign, 

Save  men's  opinions  and  my  living  blood, 

To  show  the  world  I  am  a  gentleman. 

This  and  much  more,  much  more  than  twice  all  this. 

Condemns  you  to  the  death.     See  them  deliver'd 

over 
To  execution  and  the  hand  of  death.  so 

Bushy.     More  welcome  is  the  stroke  of  death  to  me 
Than  Bolingbroke  to  England.     Lords,  farewell. 

Green.     My  comfort  is  that  heaven  will  take  our 

souls 
And  plague  injustice  with  the  pains  of  hell. 

Baling.     My  Lord  Northumberland,  see  them  dis- 
patch'd. 

[Exeunt  Northumberland  and  others,  vrith  the  prisoner*. 

Uncle,  you  say  the  queen  is  at  your  house; 
For  God's  sake,  fairly  let  her  be  entreated: 
Tell  her  I  send  to  her  my  kind  commends; 
Take  special  care  my  greetings  be  deliver'd. 

York.     A  gentleman  of  mine  I  have  dispatch 'd        4« 
With  letters  of  your  love  to  her  at  large. 

Baling.     Thanks,     gentle     uncle.     Come,    lords, 

away, 

To  fight  with  Glendower  and  his  complices: 
Awhile  to  work,  and  after  holiday.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  Two]  KING   RICHARD   II  51 

SCENE  II  —  The  coast  of  Wales.     A  castle  in  view 

Drums:  flourish  and  colours.    Enter  KING  RICHARD,  the 
BISHOP  OF  CARLISLE,  AUMERLE,  and  Soldiers 

K.  Rich.     Barkloughly  castle    call  they  this  at 
hand? 

Aunt.     Yea,  my  lord.     Hew   brooks  your  grace 

the  air, 
After  your  late  tossing  on  the  breaking  seas? 

K.  Rich.     Needs  must  I  like  it  well :  I  weep  for  joy 
To  stand  upon  my  kindom  once  again. 
Dear  earth,  I  do  salute  thee  with  my  hand, 
Though  rebels  wound  thee  with  their  horses'  hoofs : 
As  a  long-parted  mother  with  her  child 
Plays  fondly  with  her  tears  and  smiles  in  meeting, 
So,  weeping,  smiling,  greet  I  thee,  my  earth,  le 

And  do  thee  favours  with  my  royal  hands. 
Feed  not  thy  sovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth, 
Nor  with  thy  sweets  comfort  his  ravenous  sense; 
But  let  thy  spiders,  that  suck  up  thy  venom, 
And  heavy -gaited  toads  lie  in  their  way, 
Doing  annoyance  to  the  treacherous  feet 
Which  with  usurping  steps  do  trample  thee: 
Yield  stinging  nettles  to  mine  enemies; 
And  when  they  from  thy  bosom  pluck  a  flower, 
Guard  it,  I  pray  thee,  with  a  lurking  adder  tv 

Whose  double  tongue  may  with  a  mortal  touch 
Throw  death  upon  thy  sovereign's  enemies. 
Mock  not  my  senseless  conjuration,  lords: 
This  earth  shall  have  a  feeling  and  these  stones 
Prove  armed  soldiers,  ere  her  native  king 
Shall  falter  under  foul  rebellion's  arms. 


6f  KING    RICHARD    II  [Acr  THHEE 

Car.     Fear  not,  my  lord:   that  Power  that  made 

you  king 

Hath  power  to  keep  you  king  in  spite  of  all. 
The  means  that  heaven  yields  must  l>e  embraced.. 
And  not  neglected;  else,  if  heaven  would,  « 

And  we  will  not,  heaven's  offer  we  refuse, 
The  proffer'd  means  of  succour  and  redress. 

Aum.     He  means,  my  lord,  that  we  are  too  remiss; 
Whilst  Bolingbroke,  through  our  security, 
Grows  strong  and  great  in  substance  and  in  power. 

K.  Rich.     Discomfortable   cousin!    know'st  thou 

not 

That  when  the  searching  eye  of  heaven  is  hid, 
Behind  the  globe,  that  lights  the  lower  world. 
Then  thieves  and  robbers  range  abroad  unseen 
In  murders  and  in  outrage,  boldly  here;  to 

But  when  from  under  this  terrestrial  ball 
He  fires  the  proud  tops  of  the  eastern  pines 
And  darts  his  light  through  every  guilty  hole, 
Then  murders,  treasons  and  detested  sins, 
The  cloak  of  night  being  pluck'd  from  off  their  backs. 
Stand  bare  and  naked,  trembling  at  themselves? 
So  when  this  thief,  this  traitor,  Bolingbroke, 
Who  all  this  while  hath  revell'd  in  the  night 
Whilst  we  were  wandering  with  the  antipodes. 
Shall  see  us  rising  in  our  throne,  the  east,  «o 

His  treasons  will  sit  blushing  in  his  face, 
Not  able  to  endure  the  sight  of  day, 
But  self-affrighted  tremble  at  his  sin. 
Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough  rude  sea 
Can  wash  the  balm  off  from  an  anointed  king; 
The  breath  of  worldly  men  cannot  depose 


SCENE  Two]  KING    RICHARD    II  63 

The  deputy  elected  by  the  Lord: 
For  every  man  that  Bolingbroke  hath  press'd 
To  lift  shrewd  steel  against  our  golden  crown, 
God  for  his  Richard  hath  in  heavenly  pay  at 

A  glorious  angel :  then,  if  angels  fight, 
Weak  men  must  fall,  for  heaven   still  guards  the 
right. 

Enter  SALISBURY 

Welcome,  my  lord:  how  far  off  lies  your  power? 

Sal.     Nor  near  nor  farther  off,  my  gracious  lord, 
Than  this  weak  arm:  discomfort  guides  my  tongue 
And  bids  me  speak  of  nothing  but  despair. 
One  day  too  late,  I  fear  me,  noble  lord, 
Hath  clouded  all  thy  happy  days  on  earth: 
O,  call  back  yesterday,  bid  time  return, 
And  thou  shalt  have  twelve  thousand  fighting  men !  70 
To-day,  to-day,  unhappy  day,  too  late. 
O'erthrows  thy  joys,  friends,  fortune  and  thy  state: 
For  all  the  Welshmen,  hearing  thou  wert  dead, 
Are  gone  to  Bolingbroke,  dispersed  and  fled. 

Aum.     Comfort,  my  liege:  why  looks  your  grace 
so  pale? 

K.  Rich.     But  now  the  blood  of  twenty  thousand 
men 

Did  triumph  in  my  face,  and  they  are  fled; 
And,  till  so  much  blood  thither  come  again, 

Have  I  not  reason  to  look  pale  and  dead? 
All  souls  that  will  be  safe  fly  from  my  side,  so 

For  time  hath  set  a  blot  upon  my  pride. 

Aum.    Comfort,  my  liege;  remember  who  you  are. 

K.  Rich.     I  had  forgot  myself:  am  I  not  king? 


64  KING   RICHARD   II  [Arr  THREE 

Awake,  thou  coward  majesty!  thou  sleepest. 
Is  not  the  king's  name  twenty  thousand  names? 
Arm,  arm,  my  name!  a  puny  subject  strikes 
At  thy  great  glory.     Look  not  to  the  ground, 
Ye  favourites  of  a  king:  are  we  not  high? 
High  be  our  thoughts:   I  know  my  uncle  York  « 

Hath  power  enough  to  serve  our  turn.     But  who 
comes  here? 

Enter  SCROOP 
\ 

Scroop.     More   health  and  happiness  betide  my 

liege 
Than  can  my  care-tuned  tongue  deliver  him! 

K.  Rich.    Mine  ear  is  open  and  my  heart  prepared: 
The  worst  is  worldly  loss  thou  canst  unfold. 
Say,  is  my  kingdom  lost?  why,  't  was  my  care; 
And  what  loss  is  it  to  be  rid  of  care? 
Strives  Bolingbroke  to  be  as  great  as  we? 
Greater  he  shall  not  be;  if  he  serve  God, 
We  '11  serve  Him  too  and  be  his  fellow  so: 
Revolt  our  subjects?  that  we  cannot  mend;  100 

They  break  their  faith  to  God  as  well  as  us: 
Cry  woe,  destruction,  ruin  and  decay; 
The  worst  is  death,  and  death  will  have  his  day. 

Scroop.     Glad  am  I  that  your  highness  is  so  arm'd 
To  bear  the  tidings  of  calamity. 
Like  an  unseasonable  stormy  day, 
Which  makes  the  silver  rivers  drown  their  shores, 
As  if  the  world  were  all  dissolved  to  tears, 
So  high  above  his  limits  swells  the  rage 
(K  Bolingbroke,  covering  your  fearful  land  110 

With  hard  bright  steel  and  hearts  harder  than  steel. 


SCENE  Two]  KING   RICHARD   II  55 

White-beards  have  arm'd  their  thin  and   hairless 

scalps 

Against  thy  majesty ;  boys,  with  women's  voices, 
Strive  to  speak  big  and  clap  their  female  joints 
In  stiff  unwieldy  arms  against  thy  crown : 
Thy  very  beadsmen  learn  to  bend  their  bows 
Of  double-fatal  yew  against  thy  state ; 
Yea,  distaff-women  manage  rusty  bills 
Against  thy  seat:  both  young  and  old  rebel, 
And  all  goes  worse  than  I  have  power  to  tell.  i«« 

K.  Rich.    Too  well,  too  well  thou  tell'st  a  tale  so  ill. 
Where  is  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire?  where  is  Bagot? 
What  is  become  of  Bushy?  where  is  Green? . 
That  they  have  let  the  dangerous  enemy 
Measure  our  confines  with  such  peaceful  steps? 
If  we  prevail,  their  heads  shall  pay  for  it : 
I  warrant  they  have  made  peace  with  Bolingbroke. 
Scroop.     Peace  have  they  made  with  him  indeed, 

my  lord. 

K.  Rich.     O  villains,  vipers,  damn'd  without  re- 
demption ! 

Dogs,  easily  won  to  fawn  on  any  man!  i» 

Snakes,  in  my  heart-blood  warm'd,  that  sting  my 

heart! 

Three  Judases,  each  one  thrice  worse  than  Judas! 
Would  they  make  peace?  terrible  hell  make  war 
Upon  their  spotted  souls  for  this  offence ! 

Scroop.     Sweet  love,  I  see,  changing  his  property, 
Turns  to  the  sourest  and  most  deadly  hate: 
Again  uncurse  their  souls;  their  peace  is  made 
With  heads,  and  not  with  hands:  those  whom  you 
curse 


5«  KING   RICHARD   II  [Acr  THREB 

Have  felt  the  worst  of  death's  destroying  wound 

And  lie  full  low,  graved  in  the  hollow  ground.  u« 

Aum.     Is  Bushy,  Green,  and  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire 
dead? 

.Scroop.     Ay,  all  of  them  at  Bristol  lost  their  heads. 

Aum.     Where  is  the   duke   my  father   with   his 
power? 

K.  Rich.     No  matter  where;   of  comfort  no  man 

speak: 

Let 's  talk  of  graves,  of  worms  and  epitaphs; 
Make  dust  our  paper  and  with  rainy  eyes 
Write  sorrow  on  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 
Let 's  choose  executors  and  talk  of  wills: 
And  yet  not  so,  for  what  can  we  bequeath 
Save  our  deposed  bodies  to  the  ground?  no 

Our  lands,  our  lives  and  all  are  Bolingbroke's, 
And  nothing  can  we  call  our  own  but  death 
And  that  small  model  of  the  barren  earth 
Which  serves  as  paste  and  cover  to  our  bones. 
For  God's  sake,  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground 
And  tell  .sad  stories  of  the  death  of  kings: 
How  some  have  been  deposed;  some  slain  in  war; 
Some  haunted  by  the  ghosts  they  have  deposed; 
Some  poison'd  by  their  wives;  some  sleeping  kill'd; 
All  murder'd:  for  within  the  hollow  crown  iao 

That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king 
Keeps  Death  his  court,  and  there  the  antic  sits, 
Scoffing  his  state  and  grinning  at  his  pomp, 
Allowing  him  a  breath,  a  little  scene, 
To  monarchize,  be  fear'd  and  kill  with  looks, 
Infusing  him  with  self  and  vain  conceit, 
As  if  this  flesh  which  walls  about  our  life 


SCENE  Two]  KING  RICHARD   II  57 

Were  brass  impregnable,  and  humour'd  thus 

Comes  at  the  last  and  with  a  little  pin 

Bores  through  his  castle  wall,  and  farewell  king!         ITO 

Cover  your  heads  and  mock  not  flesh  and  blood 

With  solemn  reverence :  throw  away  respect, 

Tradition,  form  and  ceremonious  duty, 

For  you  have  but  mistook  me  all  this  while: 

tl  live  with  bread  like  you,  feel  want, 

Taste  grief,  need  friends :  subjected  thus, 

How  can  you  say  to  me,  I  am  a  king? 

Car.     My  lord,  wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their 

woes, 

But  presently  prevent  the  ways  to  wail. 
To  fear  the  foe,  since  fear  oppresseth  strength,  wo 

Gives  in  your  weakness  strength  unto  your  foe, 
And  so  your  follies  fight  against  yourself. 
Fear,  and  be  slain;  no  worse  can  come  to  fight: 
And  fight  and  die  is  death  destroying  death; 
Where  fearing  dying  pays  death  servile  breath. 

Aum.     My  father  hath  a  power;  inquire  of  him, 
And  learn  to  make  a  body  of  a  limb. 

K.  Rich.     Thou  chidest  me  well:   proud  Boling- 

broke,  I  come 

To  change  blows  with  thee  for  our  day  of  doom. 
This  ague  fit  of  fear  is  over-blown;  i«o 

An  easy  task  it  is  to  win  our  own. 
Say,  Scroop,  where  lies  our  uncle  with  his  power? 
Speak  sweetly,  man,  although  thy  looks  be  sour. 

Scroop.     Men  judge  by  the  complexion  of  the  sky 

The  state  and  inclination  of  the  day: 
So  may  you  by  my  dull  and  heavy  eye, 

My  tongue  hath  but  a  heavier  tale  to  say. 


68  KING  RICHARD   II  (Acr  THREE 

I  piny  the  torturer,  by  small  and  small 

To  lengthen  out  the  worst  that  must  he  spoken: 

Your  uncle  York  is  join'd  with  Bolingbroke,  too 

And  all  your  northern  castles  yielded  up, 

And  all  your  southern  gentlemen  in  arms 

Upon  his  party. 

A'.  Rich.  Thou  hast  said  enough. 

Beshrew  thee,  cousin,  which  didst  lead  me  forth 

[To  Aumerle. 

Of  that  sweet  way  I  was  in  to  despair! 
What  say  you  now?  what  comfort  have  we  now? 
By  heaven,  I  '11  hate  him  everlastingly 
That  bids  me  be  of  comfort  any  more. 
Go  to  Flint  castle:  there  I  Ml  pine  away; 
A  king,  woe's  slave,  shall  kingly  woe  obey.  tie 

That  power  I  have,  discharge;  and  let  them  go 
To  ear  the  land  that  hath  some  hope  to  grow, 
For  I  have  none:  let  no  man  speak  again 
To  alter  this,  for  counsel  is  but  vain. 

Aum.     My  liege,  one  word. 

K.  Rich.  He  does  me  double  wrong 

That  wounds  me  with  the  flatteries  of  his  tongue. 
Discharge  my  followers :  let  them  hence  away, 
From  Richard's  night  to  Bolingbroke's  fair  day. 

[Exeunt 

SCENE  III  —  Wales.     Before  Flint  castle 

Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  BOLJNGBROKE,  YORK, 
NORTHUMBERLAND,  Attendants,  and  forces 

Baling.     So  that  by  this  intelligence  we  learn 
The  Welshmen  are  dispersed,  and  Salisbury 
Is  gone  to  meet  the  king,  who  lately  landed 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  59 

With  some  few  private  friends  upon  this  coast. 

North.     The  news  is  very  fair  and  good,  my  lord: 
Richard  not  far  from  hence  hath  hid  his  head. 

York.    It  would  beseem  the  Lord  Northumberland 
To  say  '  King  Richard ' :  alack  the  heavy  day 
When  such  a  sacred  king  should  hide  his  head. 

North.     Your  grace  mistakes;  only  to  be  brief, 
Left  I  his  title  out. 

York.  The  time  hath  been,  n 

Would  you  have  been  so  brief  with  him,  he  would 
Have  been  so  brief  with  you,  to  shorten  you, 
For  taking  so  the  head,  your  whole  head's  length. 

Boling.     Mistake  not,   uncle,'  further  than  you 
should. 

York.    Take  not,  good  cousin,  further  than  you 

should, 
Lest  you  mistake  the  heavens  are  o'er  our  heads. 

Boling.     I  know  it,  uncle,  and  oppose  not  myself 
Against  their  will.     But  who  comes  here? 

:  .iic  ,oi.) 

Enter  PERCY 

Welcome,  Harry:  what,  will  not  this  castle  yield?        20 
Percy.    The  castle  royally  is  mann'd,  my  lord, 

Against  thy  entrance. 
Boling.    Royally ! 

Why,  it  contains  no  king? 
Percy.  Yes,  my  good  lord, 

It  doth  contain  a  king;  King  Richard  lies 

Within  the  limits  of  yon  lime  and  stone: 

And  with  him  are  the  Lord  Aumerle,  Lord  Salisbury, 

Sir  Stephen  Scroop,  besides  a  clergyman 

Of  holy  reverence;  who,  I  cannot  learn. 


80  KING   RICHARD    il  [Acr  Taan 

North.     O,  belike  it  is  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle.  » 

Doling.     Noble  lords, 
Go  to  the  rude  ribs  of  that  ancient  castle; 
Through  brazen  trumpet  send  the  breath  of  parley 
Into  his  ruin'd  ears,  and  thus  deliver: 
Henry  Bolingbroke 

On  both  his  knees  doth  kiss  King  Richard's  hand 
And  sends  allegiance  and  true  faith  of  heart 
To  his  most  royal  person,  hither  come 
Even  at  his  feet  to  lay  my  arms  and  power, 
Provided  that  my  banishment  repeal'd  «" 

And  lands  restored  again  be  freely  granted: 
If  not,  I'll  use  the  advantage  of  my  power 
And  lay  the  summer's  dust  with  showers  of  blood 
Ilain'd  from  the  wounds  of  slaughter'd  Englishmen: 
The  which,  how  far  off  from  the  mind  of  Bolingbroke 
It  is,  such  crimson  tempest  should  bedrench 
The  fresh  green  lap  of  fair  King  Richard's  land, 
My  stooping  duty  tenderly  shall  show. 
Go,  signify  as  much,  while  here  we  march 
Upon  the  grassy  carpet  of  this  plain.  ao 

I>et's  march  without  the  noise  of  threatening  drum, 
That  from  this  castle's  tatter'd  battlements 
Our  fair  appointments  may  be  well  perused. 
Methinks  King  Richard  and  myself  should  meet 
With  no  less  terror  than  the  elements 
Of  fire  and  water,  when  their  thundering  shock 
At  meeting  tears  the  cloudy  cheeks  of  heaven. 
Be  he  the  fire,  I  '11  be  the  yielding  water; 
The  rage  be  his,  whilst  on  the  earth  I  rain 
My  waters;  on  the  earth,  and  not  on  him.  ao 

March  on,  and  mark  King  Richard  how  he  looks. 


SCENE  THREE]        KING    RICHARD    II 


61 


Parle  without,  and  answer  within.  Then  a  flourish.  Enter 
on  the  walls,  KING  RICHARD,  the  BISHOP  OF  CARLISLE, 
ATJMERLE,  SCROOP,  and  SALISBURY 

See,  see,  King  Richard  doth  himself  appear, 
As  doth  the  blushing  discontented  sun 
From  out  the  fiery  portal  of  the  east, 
When  he  perceives  the  envious  clouds  are  bent 
To  dim  his  glory  and  to  stain  the  track 
Of  his  bright  passage  to  the  Occident. 

York.     Yet  looks  he  like  a  king:  behold,  his  eye, 
As  bright  as  is  the  eagle's,  lightens  forth 
Controlling  majesty:  alack,  alack,  for  woe,  TC 

That  any  harm  should  stain  so  fair  a  show! 

K.  Rich.    We  are  amazed;  and  thus  long  have  we 

stood 
To  watch  the  fearful  bending  of  thy  knee, 

[To  North. 

Because  we  thought  ourself  thy  lawful  king: 
And  if  we  be,  how  dare  thy  joints  forget 
To  pay  their  awful  duty  to  our  presence? 
If  we  be  not,  show  us  the  hand  of  God 
That  hath  dismiss'd  us  from  our  stewardship; 
For  well  we  know,  no  hand  of  blood  and  bone 
Can  gripe  the  sacred  handle  of  our  sceptre,  * 

Unless  he  do  profane,  steal,  or  usurp. 
And  though  you  think  that  all,  as  you  have  done, 
Have  torn  their  souls  by  turning  them  from  us, 
And  we  are  barren  and  bereft  of  friends; 
Yet  know,  my  master,  God  omnipotent, 
Is  mustering  in  his  clouds  on  our  behalf 
Armies  of  pestilence;  and  they  shall  strike 
Your  children  yet  unborn  and  unbegot, 


6f  KING  RICHARD    II  [Acr  THRU 

That  lift  your  vassal  hands  against  my  head 
And  threat  the  glory  of  my  precious  crown.  te 

Tell  Bolingbroke —  for  yond  methinks  he  stands  — 
That  every  stride  he  makes  upon  my  land 
Is  dangerous  treason:  he  is  come  to  open 
The  purple  testament  of  bleeding  war; 
Hut  ere  the  crown  he  looks  for  live  in  peace, 
Ten  thousand  bloody  crowns  of  mothers'  sons 
Shall  ill  become  the  flower  of  England's  face, 
Change  the  complexion  of  her  maid-pale  peace 
To  scarlet  indignation  and  bedew 

Her  pastures'  grass  with  faithful  English  blood.          loc 
North.     The  king  of  heaven  forbid  our  lord  the 

king 

Should  so  with  civil  and  uncivil  arms 
Be  rush'd  upon !     Thy  thrice  noble  cousin 
Harry  Bolingbroke  doth  humbly  kiss  thy  hand; 
And  by  the  honourable  tomb  he  swears, 
That  stands  upon  your  royal  grandsire's  bones, 
And  by  the  royalties  of  both  your  bloods, 
Currents  that  spring  from  one  most  gracious  head, 
And  by  the  buried  hand  of  warlike  Gaunt, 
And  by  the  worth  and  honour  of  himself,  iu 

Comprising  all  that  may  be  sworn  or  said, 
His  coming  hither  hath  no  further  scope 
Than  for  his  lineal  royalties  and  to  beg 
Enfranchisement  immediate  on  his  knees: 
Which  on  thy  royal  party  granted  once, 
His  glittering  arms  he  will  commend  to  rust, 
His  barbed  steeds  to  stables,  and  his  heart 
To  faithful  service  of  your  majesty. 
This  swears  he,  as  he  is  a  prince,  is  just; 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  tS 

And,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  I  credit  him.  i«o 

K.  Rich.     Northumberland,  say  thus  the  king  re- 
turns: 

His  noble  cousin  is  right  welcome  hither; 
And  all  the  number  of  his  fair  demands 
Shall  be  accomplish 'd  without  contradiction: 
With  all  the  gracious  utterance  thou  hast 
Speak  to  his  gentle  hearing  kind  commends. 
We  do  debase  ourselves,  cousin,  do  we  not, 

[To  Aumerle. 

To  look  so  poorly  and  to  speak  so  fair? 
Shall  we  call  back  Northumberland,  and  send 
Defiance  to  the  traitor,  and  so  die?  iso 

Aum.     No,  good  my  lord;  let  's  fight  with  gentle 

words 
Till   time   lend   friends   and   friends   their   helpful 

swords. 
K.  Rich.    O  God,  O  God!  that  e'er  this  tongue  of 

mine, 

That  laid  the  sentence  of  dread  banishment 
On  yon  proud  man,  should  take  it  off  again 
With  words  of  sooth !    O  that  I  were  as  great 
As  is  my  grief,  or  lesser  than  my  name! 
Or  that  I  could  forget  what  I  have  been, 
Or  not  remember  what  I  must  be  now! 
SwelFst  thou,  proud  heart?     I  '11  give  thee  scope  to 

beat,  no 

Since  foes  have  scope  to  beat  both  thee  and  me. 
Aum.     Northumberland  comes  back  from  Boling- 

broke. 
K.  Rich.     What  must  the  king  do  now?  must  he 

submit? 


t 

M  KING   RICHARD   II  [Acr  THHKB 

The  king  shall  do  it:  must  he  be  deposed? 

The  king  shall  be  contented:  must  he  lose 

The  name  of  king?  o'  God's  name,  let  it  go: 

I  '11  give  my  jewels  for  a  set  of  beads, 

My  gorgeous  palace  for  a  hermitage, 

My  gay  apparel  for  an  almsman's  gown, 

My  figured  goblets  for  a  dish  of  wood,  m 

My  sceptre  for  a  palmer's  walking-staff, 

My  subjects  for  a  pair  of  carved  saints 

And  my  large  kingdom  for  a  little  grave, 

A  little  little  grave,  an  obscure  grave; 

Or  I  '11  be  buried  in  the  king's  highway, 

Some  way  of  common  trade,  where  subjects'  feet 

May  hourly  trample  on  their  sovereign's  head; 

For  on  my  heart  they  tread  now  whilst  I  live; 

And  buried  once,  why  not  upon  my  head? 

Aumerle,  thou  weep'st,  my  tender-hearted  cousin!      100 

We  '11  make  foul  weather  with  despised  tears; 

Our  sighs  and  they  shall  lodge  the  summer  corn, 

And  make  a  dearth  in  this  revolting  land. 

Or  shall  we  play  the  wantons  with  our  woes, 

And  make  some  pretty  match  with  shedding  tears? 

As  thus,  to  drop  them  still  upon  one  place, 

Till  they  have  fretted  us  a  pair  of  graves 

Within  the  earth;  and,  therein  laid,  — there  lies 

Two  kinsmen  digg'd  their  graves  with  weeping  eyes. 

Would  not  this  ill  do  well?     Well,  well,  I  see  no 

I  talk  but  idly,  and  you  laugh  at  me. 

Most  mighty  prince,  my  Lord  Northumberland, 

What  says  King  Bolingbroke?  will  his  majesty 

Give  Richard  leave  to  live  till  Richard  die? 

You  make  a  leg,  and  Bolingbroke  says  ay. 


SCENE  THREE]         KING   RICHARD    II  65 

North.     My  lord,  in  the  base  court  he  doth  attend 

To  speak  with  you ;  may  it  please  you  to  come  down. 

K.  Rich.     Down,  down   I   come;    like  glistering 

Phaethon, 

Wanting  the  manage  of  unruly  jades. 
In  the  base  court?     Base  court,  where  kings  grow 

base,  180 

To  come  at  traitors'  calls  and  do  them  grace. 
In  the  base  court?     Come  down?     Down,  court! 

down,  king! 

For  night-owls  shriek  where  mounting  larks  should 
sing. 

[Exeunt  from  above. 
Baling.     What  says  his  majesty? 
North.  Sorrow  and  grief  of  heart 

Makes  him  speak  fondly,  like  a  frantic  man : 
Yet  he  is  come. 

Enter  KING  RICHARD  and  his  attendants  below 

Baling.     Stand  all  apart, 
And  show  fair  duty  to  his  majesty. 

[He  kneels  down. 
My  gracious  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.     Fair  cousin,  you  debase  your  princely 

knee  i»» 

To  make  the  base  earth  proud  with  kissing  it: 
Me  rather  had  my  heart  might  feel  your  love 
Than  my  unpleased  eye  see  your  courtesy. 
Up,  cousin,  up;  your  heart  is  up,  I  know, 
Thus  high  at  least,  although  your  knee  be  low. 
Boling.     My  gracious  lord,  I  come  but  for  mine 
own. 


06  KING   RICHARD   II  [Acr  TBBEE 

K   Rich.     Your  own  is  yours,  and  I  am  yours,  and 
all. 

Holing.     So  far  be  mine,  my  most  redoubted  lord, 
As  my  true  service  shall  deserve  your  love. 

K.  Rich.     Well  you  deserve:  they  well  deserve  to 

have, 

That  know  the  strong'st  and  surest  way  to  get.          toi 
Uncle,  give  me  your  hands:  nay,  dry  your  eyes; 
Tears  show  their  love,  but  want  their  remedies. 
Cousin,  I  am  too  young  to  be  your  father, 
Though  you  are  old  enough  to  be  my  heir. 
What  you  will  have,  I  '11  give,  and  willing  too; 
For  do  we  must  what  force  will  have  us  do. 
Set  on  towards  London,  cousin,  is  it  so? 

Boling.     Yea,  my  good  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Then  I  must  not  say  no. 

• 

[Flourish.    Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV — Langley.     The  DUKE  OF  YORK'S  garden 
Enter  the  QUEEN  and  two  Ladies     

Queen.     W:hat  sport  shall  we  devise  here  in  this 

garden, 
To  drive  away  the  heavy  thought  of  care? 

Lady.     Madame,  we'll  play  at  bowls. 

Queen.     'T  will  make  me  think  the  world  is  full  of 

rubs, 
And  that  my  fortune  runs  against  the  bias. 

Lady.     Madame,  we  '11  dance. 

Queen.     My  legs  can  keep  no  measure  in  delight, 
When  my  poor  heart  no  measure  keeps  in  grief: 
Therefore,  no  dancing,  girl;  some  other  sport. 

Lady.     Madame,  we  '11  tell  tales.  10 


SCENE  FOUR]         KING  RICHARD  II  07 

Queen.     Of  sorrow  or  of  joy? 

Lady.  Of  either,  madam. 

Queen.     Of  neither,  girl: 
For  if  of  joy,  being  altogether  wanting, 
It  doth  remember  me  the  more  of  sorrow; 
Or  if  of  grief,  being  altogether  had, 
It  adds  more  sorrow  to  my  want  of  joy: 
For  what  I  have  I  need  not  to  repeat; 
And  what  I  want  it  boots  not  to  complain. 

Lady.     Madam,  I  '11  sing. 

Queen.  'T  is  well  that  thou  hast  cause; 

But  thou  shouldst  please  me  better,  wouldst  thou 

weep.  20 

Lady.     I  could  weep,  madam,  would  it  do  you 
good. 

Queen.    And  I  could  sing,  would  weeping  do  me 

good, 
And  never  borrow  any  tear  of  thee. 

Enter  a  Gardener,  and  two  Servants 

But  stay,  here  come  the  gardeners: 
Let 's  step  into  the  shadow  of  these  trees. 
My  wretchedness  unto  a  row  of  pins, 
They  '11  talk  of  state;  for  every  one  doth  so 
Against  a  change;  woe  is  forerun  with  woe. 

[Queen  and  Ladies  retire. 

Gard.     Go,  bind  thou  up  yon  dangling  apricocks, 
Which,  like  unruly  children,  make  their  sire  so 

Stoop  with  oppression  of  their  prodigal  weight; 
Give  some  supportance  to  the  bending  twigs. 
Go  thou,  and  like  an  executioner, 
Cut  off  the  heads  of  too  fast  growing  sprays, 


68  KING    RICHARD   II  [Acr  THBM 

That  look  too  lofty  in  our  commonwealth: 
All  must  be  even  in  our  government. 
You  thus  employ 'd,  I  will  go  root  away 
The  noisome  weeds,  which  without  profit  suck 
The  soil's  fertility  from  wholesome  flowers. 

Ser».     Why  should  we  in  the  compass  of  a  pale        «• 
Keep  law  and  form  and  due  proportion, 
Showing,  as  in  a  model,  our  firm  estate, 
When  our  sea-walled  garden,  the  whole  land. 
Is  full  of  weeds,  her  fairest  flowers  choked  up, 
Her  fruit-trees  all  un pruned,  her  hedges  ruin'd, 
Her  knots  disorder'd  and  her  wholesome  herbs 
Swarming  with  caterpillars? 

Gard.  Hold  thy  peace: 

He  that  hath  suffer'd  this  disorder'd  spring 
Hath  now  himself  met  with  the  fall  of  leaf: 
The  weeds  which  his  broad-spreading  leaves  did 

shelter,  »o 

That  seem'd  in  eating  him  to  hold  him  up, 
Are  pluck'd  up  root  and  all  by  Bolingbroke, 
I  mean  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  Bushy,  Green. 

Sen?.     WTiat,  are  they  dead? 

Gard.  They  are ;  and  Bolingbroke 

Hath  seized  the  wasteful  king.     O,  what  pity  is  it 
That  he  had  not  so  trimm'd  and  dress'd  his  land 
As  we  this  garden !     We  at  time  of  year 
Do  wound  the  bark,  the  skin  of  our  fruit-trees, 
Lest,  being  over-proud  in  sap  and  blood, 
NVith  too  much  riches  it  confound  itself:  eo 

Had  he  done  so  to  great  and  growing  men, 
They  might  have  lived  to  bear  and  he  to  taste 
Their  fruits  of  duty :  superfluous  branches 


SCENE  FOUR] 


KING  RICHARD  II 


69 


We  lop  away,  that  bearing  boughs  may  live: 
Had  he  done  so,  himself  had  borne  the  crown, 
Which  waste  of  idle  hours  hath  quite  tlwown  down. 

Serv.    What,  think  you  then  the  king  shall  be  de- 
posed? 

Gard.     Depress'd  he  is  already,  and  deposed 
'T  is  doubt  he  will  be:  letters  came  last  night 
To  a  dear  friend  of  the  good  Duke  of  York's,  TO 

That  tell  black  tidings. 

Queen.    O,  I  am  press'd  to  death  through  want  of 

speaking! 

[Coming  forward. 

Thou,  old  Adam's  likeness,  set  to  dress  this  garden, 
How  dares  thy  harsh  rude  tongue  sound  this  un- 

pleasingnews? 

What  Eve,  what  serpent,  hath  suggested  thee 
To  make  a  second  fall  of  cursed  man? 
Why  dost  thou  say  King  Richard  is  deposed? 
Darest  thou,  thou  little  better  thing  than  earth, 
Divine  his  downfall?     Say,  where,  when,  and  how, 
Camest  thou  by  this  ill  tidings?  speak,  thou  wretch.    ao 

Gard.     Pardon  me,  madam:  little  joy  have  I 
To  breathe  this  news;  yet  what  I  say  is  true. 
King  Richard,  he  is  in  the  mighty  hold 
Of  Bolingbroke:  their  fortunes  both  are  weigh'd: 
In  your  lord's  scale  is  nothing  but  himself, 
And  some  few  vanities  that  make  him  light; 
But  in  the  balance  of  great  Bolingbroke, 
Besides  himself,  are  all  the  English  peers, 
And  with  that  odds  he  weighs  King  Richard  down. 
Post  you  to  London,  and  you  will  find  it  so;  DO 

I  speak  no  more  than  every  one  doth  know. 


70  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  Foum 

Queen.     Nimble  mischance,  that  art  so  light  of 

foot, 

Doth  not  thy  embassage  belong  to  me, 
And  am  I  last  that  knows  it?     O,  thou  think'sb 
To  serve  me  last,  that  I  may  longest  keep 
Thy  sorrow  in  my  breast.     Come,  ladies,  go, 
To  meet  at  Ix)ndon  London's  king  in  woe. 
What,  was  I  born  to  this,  that  my  sad  look 
Should  grace  the  triumph  of  great  Bolinghroke? 
Gardener,  for  telling  me  these  news  of  woe,  100 

Pray  God  the  plants  thou  graft 'st  may  never  grow. 

[Exeunt  Queen  and  I^adiet. 
Card.     Poor  queen!  so  that  thy  state  might  be  no 

worse, 

I  would  my  skill  were  subject  to  thy  curse. 
Here  did  she  fall  a  tear;  here  in  this  place 
I  '11  set  a  bank  of  rue,  sour  herb  of  grace: 
Rue,  even  for  ruth,  here  shortly  shall  be  seen, 
In  the  remembrance  of  a  weeping  queen.         [Exeunt. 


ACT  IV 

SCENE  I  —  Westminster  Hall 

Enter,  as  to  the  Parliament,  BOLINGBROKE,  AUMERUE, 
NORTHUMBERLAND,  PERCY,  FITZWATER,  SURREY,  the 
BISHOP  OF  CARLISLE,  the  ABBOT  OF  WESTMINSTER, 
and  another  Lord,  Herald,  Officers,  and  BAGOT 

Baling.     Call  forth  Bagot. 
Now,  Bagot,  freely  speak  thy  mind; 
What  thou  dost  know  of  noble  Gloucester's  death, 
Who  wrought  it  with  the  king,  and  who  perform'd 


SCENE  ONE]  KING  RICHARD   II  71 

The  bloody  office  of  his  timeless  end. 

Bagot.    Then  set  before  my  face  the  Lord  Aumerle. 

Baling.     Cousin,  stand  forth,  and  look  upon  that 
man. 

Bagot.     My  Lord  Aumerle,  I  know  your  daring 

tongue 

Scorns  to  unsay  what  once  it  hath  deliver'd. 
In  that  dead  time  when  Gloucester's  death  was 

plotted,  10 

I  heard  you  say, '  Is  not  my  arm  of  length, 
That  reacheth  from  the  restful  English  court 
As  far  as  Calais,  to  mine  uncle's  head? ' 
Amongst  much  other  talk,  that  very  time, 
I  heard  you  say  that  you  hath  rather  refuse 
The  offer  of  an  hundred  thousand  crowns 
Than  Bolingbroke's  return  to  England; 
Adding  withal,  how  blest  this  land  would  be 
In  this  your  cousin's  death. 

Aum.  Princes  and  noble  lords, 

What  answer  shall  I  make  to  this  base  man?  to 

Shall  I  so  much  dishonour  my  fair  stars, 
On  equal  terms  to  give  him  chastisement? 
Either  I  must,  or  have  mine  honour  soil'd 
With  the  attainder  of  his  slanderous  lips. 
There  is  my  gage,  the  manual  seal  of  death, 
That  marks  thee  out  for  hell:  I  say,  thou  liest, 
And  will  maintain  what  thou  hast  said  is  false 
In  thy  heart-blood,  though  being  all  too  base 
To  stain  the  temper  of  my  knightly  sword. 

Baling.     Bagot,  forbear;  thou  shalt  not  take  it  up.  so 

Aum.     Excepting  one,  I  would  he  were  the  best 
In  all  this  presence  that  hath  moved  me  so. 


74  KING   RICHARD  II  [Aer  FOUB 

Ft/z.     If  that  thy  valour  stand  on  sympathy, 
There  is  my  gage,  Aumerle,  in  gage  to  thine: 
By  that  fair  sun  which  shows  me  where  thou  stand'st, 
I  heard  thee  say,  and  vauntingly  thou  spakest  it, 
That  thou  wert  cause  of  noble  Gloucester's  death. 
If  thou  deny'st  it  twenty  times,  thou  liest; 
And  I  will  turn  thy  falsehood  to  thy  heart, 
Where  it  was  forged,  with  my  rapier's  point. 

Awn.     Thou  darest  not,  coward,  live  to  see  that 
day. 

Fitz.     Now,  by  my  soul,  I  would  it  were  this  hour. 

Aum.     Fitzwater,  thou  art  damn'd  to  hell  for  this. 

Percy.     Aumerle,  thou  liest;  his  honour  is  as  true 
In  this  appeal  as  thou  art  all  unjust; 
And  that  thou  art  so,  there  I  throw  my  gage, 
To  prove  it  on  thee  to  the  extremest  point 
Of  mortal  breathing:  seize  it,  if  thou  darest. 

Aum.     An  if  I  do  not,  may  my  hands  rot  off 
And  never  brandish  more  revengeful  steel 
Over  the  glittering  helmet  of  my  foe! 

Another  Lord.     I  task  the  earth  to  the  like,  for 

sworn  Aumerle; 

And  spur  thee  on  with  full  as  many  lies 
As  may  be  holloa'd  in  thy  treacherous  ear 
From  sun  to  sun:  there  is  my  honour's  pawn; 
Engage  it  to  the  trial,  if  thou  darest. 

Aum.     Who  sets  me  else?  by  heaven,  I  '11  throw  at 

all: 

I  have  a  thousand  spirits  in  one  breast, 
To  answer  twenty  thousand  such  as  you. 

Surrei/.     My  Ix)rd  Fitzwater,  I  do  remember  well 
The  very  time  Aumerle  and  you  did  talk. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  78 

Fitz.     'T  is  very  true:  you  were  in  presence  then; 
And  you  can  witness  with  me  this  is  true. 

Surrey.  As  false,  by  heaven,  as  heaven  itself  is  true. 
Fitz.     Surrey,  thou  liest. 

Surrey.  Dishonourable  boy! 

That  lie  shall  lie  so  heavy  on  my  sword, 
That  it  shall  render  vengeance  and  revenge 
Till  thou  the  lie-giver  and  that  lie  do  lie 
In  earth  as  quiet  as  thy  father's  skull : 
In  proof  whereof,  there  is  my  honour's  pawn;  70 

Engage  it  to  the  trial,  if  thou  darest. 

Fitz.     How  fondly  dost  thou  spur  a  forward  horse! 
If  I  dare  eat,  or  drink,  or  breathe,  or  live, 
I  dare  meet  Surrey  hi  a  wilderness, 
And  spit  upon  him,  whilst  I  say  he  lies, 
And  lies,  and  lies:  there  is  my  bond  of  faith, 
To  tie  thee  to  my  strong  correction. 
As  I  intend  to  thrive  in  this  new  world, 
Aumerle  is  guilty  of  my  true  appeal: 
Besides,  I  heard  the  banish'd  Norfolk  say  so 

That  thou,  Aumerle,  didst  send  two  of  thy  men 
To  execute  the  noble  duke  at  Calais. 

Aum.    Some  honest  Christian  trust  me  with  a 

gage, 

That  Norfolk  lies :  here  do  I  throw  down  this, 
If  he  may  be  repeal'd,  to  try  his  honour. 

Baling.    These  differences  shall  all  rest  under  gage 
Till  Norfolk  be  repeal'd:  repeal'd  he  shall  be, 
And,  though  mine  enemy,  restored  again 
To  all  his  lands  and  signories:  when  he  's  return'd, 
Against  Aumerle  we  will  enforce  his  trial.  »o 

Car.     That  honourable  day  shall  ne'er  be  seen. 


74  KING  RICHARD  II  |Acr  Foum 

Many  a  time  hath  banish'd  Norfolk  fought 

For  Jesu  Christ  in  glorious  Christian  field. 

Streaming  the  ensign  of  the  Christian  cross 

Against  black  pagans,  Turks,  and  Saracens; 

And  toil'd  with  works  of  war,  retired  himself 

To  Italy;  and  there  at  Venice  gave 

His  body  to  that  pleasant  country's  earth, 

And  his  pure  soul  unto  his  captain  Christ, 

Under  whose  colours  he  had  fought  so  long.  100 

Baling.     Why,  bishop,  is  Norfolk  dead? 

Car.    As  surely  as  I  live,  my  lord. 

Baling.     Sweet  peace  conduct  his  sweet  soul  to  the 

bosom 

Of  good  old  Abraham!     Lords  appellants, 
Your  differences  shall  all  rest  under  gage 
Till  we  assign  you  to  your  days  of  trial. 

Enter  YORK,  attended 

York.     Great  Duke  of  Lancaster,  I  come  to  thee 
From  plume-pluck'd  Richard;  who  with  willing  soul 
Adopts  thee  heir,  and  his  high  sceptre  yields 
To  the  possession  of  thy  royal  hand:  no 

Ascend  his  throne,  descending  now  from  him; 
And  long  live  Henry,  fourth  of  that  name! 

Boling.     In  God's    name,  I  '11  ascend  the  regal 
throne. 

Car.     Marry,  God  forbid! 
Worst  in  this  royal  presence  may  I  speak, 
Yet  best  beseeming  me  to  speak  the  truth. 
Would  God  that  any  in  this  noble  presence 
Were  enough  noble  to  be  upright  judge 
Of  noble  Richard!  then  true  noblesse  would 


SCENE  ONE]  KING  RICHARD   II  75 

Learn  him  forbearance  from  so  foul  a  wrong.  i«o 

What  subject  can  give  sentence  on  his  king? 
And  who  sits  here  that  is  not  Richard's  subject? 
Thieves  are  not  judged  but  they  are  by  to  hear, 
Although  apparent  guilt  be  seen  in  them; 
And  shall  the  figure  of  God's  majesty, 
His  captain,  steward,  deputy-elect, 
Anointed,  crowned,  planted  many  years, 
Be  judged  by  subject  and  inferior  breath, 
And  he  himself  not  present?     O,  forfend  it,  God, 
That  in  a  Christian  climate  souls  refined  is* 

Should  show  so  heinous,  black,  obscene  a  deed! 
I  speak  to  subjects,  and  a  subject  speaks, 
Stirr'd  up  by  God,  thus  boldly  for  his  king. 
My  Lord  of  Hereford  here,  whom  you  call  king, 
Is  a  foul  traitor  to  proud  Hereford's  king: 
And  if  you  crown  him,  let  me  prophesy : 
The  blood  of  English  shall  manure  the  ground, 
And  future  ages  groan  for  this  foul  act; 
Peace  shall  go  sleep  with  Turks  and  infidels, 
And  in  this  seat  of  peace  tumultuous  wars  MO 

Shall  kin  with  kin  and  kind  with  kind  confound; 
Disorder,  horror,  fear  and  mutiny 
Shall  here  inhabit,  and  this  land  be  call'd 
The  field  of  Golgotha  and  dead  men's  skulls. 
O,  if  you  raise  this  house  against  this  house, 
It  will  the  woefullest  division  prove 
That  ever  fell  upon  this  cursed  earth. 
Prevent  it,  resist  it,  let  it  not  be  so, 
Lest  child,  child's  children,  cry  against  you  *  woe!* 
North.     Well  have  you  argued,  sir;  and,  for  your 
pains, 


7«  KING   RICHARD   II  fAer  Foum 

Of  capital  treason  we  arrest  you  here.  i»i 

My  Lord  of  Westminster,  be  it  your  charge 

To  keep  him  safely  till  his  day  of  trial. 

May  it  please  you,  lords,  to  grant  the  commons'  suit. 

Baling.     Fetch  hither  Richard,  that  in  common 

view 

He  may  surrender;  so  we  shall  proceed 
Without  suspicion. 

York.  I  will  he  his  conduct.         [Exit. 

Baling.     Lords,  you  that  here  are  under  our  arrest, 
Procure  your  sureties  for  your  days  of  answer. 
Little  are  we  beholding  to  your  love,  i  at 

And  little  look'd  fpr  at  your  helping  hands. 

Re-enter  YORK,  with  RICHARD,  and  Officers  bearing 
the  regalia 

K.  Rich.     Alack,  why  am  I  sent  for  to  a  king, 
Before  I  have  shook  off  the  regal  thoughts 
Wherewith  I  reign'd?     I  hardly  yet  have  learn'd 
To  insinuate,  flatter,  bow,  and  bend  my  limbs: 
Give  sorrow  leave  awhile  to  tutor  me 
To  this  submission.     Yet  I  will  remember 
The  favours  of  these  men :  were  they  not  mine? 
Did  they  not  sometime  cry,  '  all  hail! '  to  me? 
So  Judas  did  to  Christ:  but  he,  in  twelve,  IT* 

Found  truth  in  all  but  one;  I,  in  twelve  thousand, 

none. 

God  save  the  king!     Will  no  man  say  amen? 
Am  I  both  priest  and  clerk?  well  then,  amen. 
God  save  the  king!  although  I  be  not  he; 
And  yet,  amen,  if  heaven  do  think  him  me. 
To  do  what  service  am  I  sent  for  hither? 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  77 

York.     To  do  that  office  of  thine  own  good  will 
Which  tired  majesty  did  make  thee  offer, 
The  resignation  of  thy  state  and  crown 
To  Henry  Bolingbroke.  i»< 

K.  Rich.     Give  me  the  crown.     Here,  cousin,  seize 

the  crown; 
Here  cousin; 

On  this  side  my  hand,  and  on  that  side  yours 
Now  is  this  golden  crown  like  a  deep  well 
That  owes  two  buckets,  filling  one  another, 
.  The  emptier  ever  dancing  in  the  air, 
The  other  down,  unseen  and  full  of  water: 
That  bucket  down  and  full  of  tears  am  I, 
Drinking  my  griefs,  whilst  you  mount  up  on  high. 

Baling.     I  thought  you  had  been  willing  to  resign.  i»i 

K.  Rich.     My  crown  I  am;  but  still  my  griefs  are 

mine: 

You  may  my  glories  and  my  state  depose, 
But  not  my  griefs;  still  am  I  king  of  those. 

Baling.     Part  of  your  cares  you  give  me  with  your 
crown. 

K.  Rich.    Your  cares  set  up  do  not  pluck  my  cares 

down. 

My  care  is  loss  of  care,  by  old  care  done; 
Your  care  is  gain  of  care,  by  new  care  won: 
The  cares  I  give  I  have,  though  given  away; 
They  tend  the  crown,  yet  still  with  me  they  stay. 

Baling.     Are  you  contented  to  resign  the  crown?  sot 

K.  Rich.     Ay,  no;  no,  ay;  for  I  must  nothing  be; 
Therefore  no  no,  for  I  resign  to  thee. 
Now  mark  me,  how  I  will  undo  myself: 
I  give  this  heavy  weight  from  off  my  head 


78  KING   RICHARD   II  ^  [Acrr  Fou» 

And  this  un wieldy  sceptre  from  my  hand. 

The  pride  of  kingly  sway  from  out  my  heart; 

With  mine  own  tears  I  wash  away  my  balm, 

With  mine  own  hands  I  give  away  my  crown, 

With  mine  own  tongue  deny  my  sacred  state, 

With  mine  own  breath  release  all  duty's  rites:  tu 

All  pomp  and  majesty  I  do  forswear; 

My  manors,  rents,  revenues  I  forego; 

My  acts,  decrees,  and  statutes  I  deny; 

God  pardon  all  oaths  that  are  broke  to  me! 

God  keep  all  vows  unbroke  that  swear  to  thee! 

Make  me,  that  nothing  have,  with  nothing  grieved, 

And  thou  with  all  pleased,  that  hast  all  achieved! 

Long  mayst  thou  live  in  Richard's  seat  to  sit, 

And  soon  lip  Richard  in  an  earthy  pit! 

God  save  King  Harry,  unking'd  Richard  says,  tto 

And  send  him  many  years  of  sunshine  days! 

What  more  remains? 

North.  No  more,  but  that  you  read 

These  accusations  and  these  grievous  crimes 
Committed  by  your  person  and  your  followers 
Against  the  state  and  profit  of  this  land; 
That,  by  confessing  them,  the  souls  of  men 
May  deem  that  you  are  worthily  deposed. 

K.  Rich.  Must  I  do  so?  and  must  I  ravel  out 
My  weaved-up  folly?  Gentle  Northumberland, 
If  thy  offences  were  upon  record,  CM 

Would  it  not  shame  thee  in  so  fair  a  troop 
To  read  a  lecture  of  them?     If  thou  wouldst, 
There  shouldst  thou  find  one  heinous  article, 
Containing  the  deposing  of  a  king 
And  cracking  the  strong  warrant  of  an  oath, 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  79 

Mark'd  with  a  blot,  damn'd  in  the  book  of  heaven: 
May,  all  of  you  that  stand  and  look  upon, 
Whilst  that  my  wretchedness  doth  bait  myself, 
Though  some  of  you  with  Pilate  wash  your  hands 
Showing  an  outward  pity;  yet  you  Pilates  *«o 

Have  here  deliver'd  me  to  my  sour  cross, 
And  water  cannot  wash  away  your  sin. 

North.    My  lord,  dispatch;  read  o'er  these  articles. 

K.  Rich.    Mine  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  I  cannot 

see: 

And  yet  salt  water  blinds  them  not  so  much 
But  they  can  see  a  sort  of  traitors  here. 
Nay,  if  I  turn  mine  eyes  upon  myself, 
I  find  myself  a  traitor  with  the  rest; 
For  I  have  given  here  my  soul's  consent 
To  undeck  the  pompous  body  of  a  king;  MO 

Made  glory  base  and  sovereignty  a  slave, 
Proud  majesty  a  subject,  state  a  peasant. 

North.    My  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.     No  lord  of  thine,  thou  haught  insulting 

man, 

Nor  no  man's  lord;  I  have  no  name,  no  title, 
No,  not  that  name  was  given  me  at  the  font, 
But 't  is  usurp'd :  alack  the  heavy  day, 
That  I  have  worn  so  many  winters  out, 
And  know  not  now  what  name  to  call  myself! 
O  that  I  were  a  mockery  king  of  snow,  «eo 

Standing  before  the  sun  of  Bolingbroke, 
To  melt  myself  away  in  water-drops! 
Good  king,  great  king,  and  yet  not  greatly  good, 
An  if  my  word  be  sterling  yet  in  England, 
Let  it  command  a  mirror  hither  straight, 


80  KING   RICHARD   II  [Acr  FOOB 

That  it  may  show  me  what  a  face  I  have, 
Since  it  is  bankrupt  of  his  majesty. 

Baling.     Go  some  of  you  and  fetch  a  looking-glass. 

[Exit  an  attendant. 

North.     Read  o'er  this  paper  while  the  glass  doth 

come. 
K.  Rich.     Fiend,  thou  torment'st  me  ere  I  come  to 

hell! 
Baling.     Urge  it  no  more,  my  Lord  Northuml>er- 

land. 

Nvrth.     The  commons  will  not  then  he  satisfied.       t« 
K.  Rich.     They  shall  be  satisfied :  I  '11  read  enough, 
\Yhen  I  do  see  the  very  book  indeed 
Where  all  my  sins  are  writ,  and  that 's  myself. 

Re-enter  Attendant,  with  a  glass 

Give  me  the  glass,  and  therein  will  I  read. 

No  deeper  wrinkles  yet?  hath  sorrow  struck 

So  many  blows  upon  this  face  of  mine. 

And  made  no  deeper  wounds?     O  flattering  glass, 

Like  to  my  followers  in  prosperity,  «M 

Thou  dost  beguile  me!     Was  this  face  the  face 

That  every  day  under  his  household  roof 

Did  keep  ten  thousand  men?  was  this  the  face 

That,  like  the  sun,  did  make  beholders  wink? 

Was  this  the  face  that  faced  so  many  follies, 

And  was  at  last  out-faced  by  Bolingbroke? 

A  brittle  glory  shineth  in  this  face: 

As  brittle  as  the  glory  is  the  face; 

[Dashes  the  glass  against  the  ground. 
I'or  there  it  is,  crack'd  in  a  hundred  shivers. 
Mark,  silent  king,  the  moral  of  this  sport,  MO 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  81 

How  soon  my  sorrow  hath  destroy'd  my  face. 

Baling.     The  shadow  of  your  sorrow  hath  destroy'd 
The  shadow  of  your  face. 

K.  Rich.  Say  that  again. 

The  shadow  of  my  sorrow!  ha!  let 's  see: 
'T  is  very  true,  my  grief  lies  all  within; 
And  these  external  manners  of  laments 
Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  grief 
That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortured  soul; 
There  lies  the  substance:  and  I  thank  thee,  king, 
For  thy  great  bounty,  that  not  only  givest  soo 

Me  cause  to  wail  but  teachest  me  the  way 
How  to  lament  the  cause.     I  '11  beg  one  boon, 
And  then  be  gone  and  trouble  you  no  more. 
Shall  I  obtain  it? 

Baling.  Name  it,  fair  cousin. 

K.  Rich.    'Fair  cousin'?  I  am  greater  than  a  king: 
For  when  I  was  a  king,  my  flatterers 
Were  then  but  subjects;  being  now  a  subject, 
I  have  a  king  here  to  my  flatterer. 
Being  so  great,  I  have  no  need  to  beg. 

Baling.     Yet  ask.  «io 

K.  Rich.    And  shall  I  have? 

Baling.    You  shall. 

K.  Rich.    Then  give  me  leave  to  go. 

Baling.     Whither? 

K.  Rich.     Whither  you  will,  so  I  were  from  your 
sights. 

Baling.     Go,  some  of  you  convey  him  to  the  Tower. 

K.  Rich.     O,  good!  convey?  conveyers  are  you  all, 
That  rise  thus  nimbly  by  a  true  king's  fall. 

[Exeunt  King  Richard,  some  Lords,  and  a  Guard. 


82  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  FIVE 

Baling.     On  Wednesday  next  we  solemnly  set  down 
Our  coronation:  lords,  prepare  yourselves.  s«» 

[Exeunt  all  except  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  the  Abbot 
of  Wextmin  liter,  and  Aumerle. 

Abbot.     A  woeful  pageant  have  we  here  beheld. 

Car.     The  woe  *s  to  come;  the  children  yet  unborn 
Shall  feel  this  day  as  sharp  to  them  as  thorn. 

Aum.     You  holy  clergymen,  is  there  no  plot 
To  rid  the  realm  of  this  pernicious  blot? 

Abbot.     My  lord, 

Before  I  freely  speak  my  mind  herein, 
You  shall  not  only  take  the  sacrament 
To  bury  mine  intents,  but  also  to  effect 
Whatever  I  shall  happen  to  devise.  BSD 

I  see  your  brows  are  full  of  discontent, 
Your  hearts  of  sorrow  and  your  eyes  of  tears. 
Come  home  with  me  to  supper;  and  I  '11  lay 
A  plot  shall  show  us  all  a  merry  day.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  V 

SCENE  I  —  London.     A  street  leading  to  the  Tower 
Enter  QUEEN  and  Ladies 

Queen.     This  way  the  king  will  come;  thia  is  the 

way 

To  Julius  Caesar's  ill-erected  tower, 
To  whose  flint  bosom  my  condemned  lord 
Is  doom'd  a  prisoner  by  proud  Bolingbroke: 
Here  let  us  rest,  if  this  rebellious  earth 
Have  any  resting  for  her  true  king's  queen. 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   II  85 

Enter  RICHARD  and  Guard 
But  soft,  but  see,  or  rather  do  not  see, 
My  fair  rose  wither :  yet  look  up,  behold, 
That  you  in  pity  may  dissolve  to  dew, 
And  wash  him  fresh  again  with  true-love  tears.  10 

Ah,  thou,  the  model  where  old  Troy  did  stand, 
Thou  map  of  honour,  thou  King  Richard's  tomb, 
And  not  King  Richard;  thou  most  beauteous  inn, 
Why  should  hard-favour'd  grief  be  lodged  in  thee, 
When  triumph  is  become  an  alehouse  guest? 
K.  Rich.    Join  not  with  grief,  fair  woman,  do  not 

so, 

To  make  my  end  too  sudden :  learn,  good  soul, 
To  think  our  former  state  a  happy  dream; 
From  which  awaked,  the  truth  of  what  we  are 
Shows  us  but  this:  I  am  sworn  brother,  sweet,  «o 

To  grim  Necessity,  and  he  and  I 
Will  keep  a  league  till  death.     Hie  thee  to  France 
And  cloister  thee  in  some  religious  house: 
Our  holy  lives  must  win  a  new  world's  crown, 
Which  our  profane  hours  here  have  stricken  down. 
Queen.     What,  is  my  Richard  both  in  shape  and 

mind 

Transform'd  and  weaken'd?   hath  Bolingbroke  de- 
posed 

Thine  intellect?  hath  he  been  in  thy  heart? 
The  lion  dying  thrusteth  forth  his  paw, 
And  wounds  the  earth,  if  nothing  else,  with  rage          so 
To  be  o'erpower'd ;  and  wilt  thou,  pupil-like, 
Take  thy  correction  mildly,  kiss  the  rod, 
And  fawn  on  rage  with  base  humility, 
Which  art  a  lion  and  a  king  of  beasts? 


84  KING   RICHARD  U  ACT  FIVE 

A'.  Rich.     A  king  of  beasts,  indeed;  if  aught  but 

beasts, 

I  had  been  still  a  happy  king  of  men. 
Good    sometime    queen,    prepare    thee    hence     for 

France: 

Think  I  am  dead  and  that  even  here  thou  takest, 
As  from  my  death-bed,  thy  last  living  leave. 
In  winter's  tedious  nights  sit  by  the  fire  «t 

With  good  old  folks  and  let  them  tell  thee  tales 
Of  woeful  ages  long  ago  betid; 
And  ere  thou  bid  good  night,  to  quit  their  griefs, 
Tell  thou  the  lamentable  tale  of  me 
And  send  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds: 
For  why,  the  senseless  brands  will  sympathize 
The  heavy  accent  of  thy  moving  tongue 
And  in  compassion  weep  the  fire  out; 
And  some  will  mourn  in  ashes,  some  coal-black, 
For  the  deposing  of  a  rightful  king.  <« 

Enter  NORTHUMBERLAND  and  others 

North.     My   lord,   the   mind   of    Bolingbroke   ia 

changed; 

You  must  to  Pomfret,  not  unto  the  Tower. 
And,  madam,  there  is  order  ta'en  for  you; 
With  all  swift  speed  you  must  away  to  France. 

K.  Rich.     Northumberland,  thou  ladder    where- 
withal 

The  mounting  Bolingbroke  ascends  my  throne, 
The  time  shall  not  be  many  hours  of  age 
More  than  it  is  ere  foul  sin  gathering  head 
Shall  break  into  corruption:  thou  shalt  think, 
Though  he  divide  the  realm  and  give  thee  half,  •• 


SCENE  ONE]  KING   RICHARD   H  85 

It  is  too  little,  helping  him  to  all; 

And  he  shall  think  that  thou,  which  know'st  the  way 

To  plant  unrightful  kings,  wilt  know  again, 

Being  ne'er  so  little  urged,  another  way 

To  pluck  him  headlong  from  the  usurped  throne. 

The  love  of  wicked  men  converts  to  fear; 

That  fear  to  hate,  and  hate  turns  one  or  both 

To  worthy  danger  and  deserved  death. 

North.     My  guilt  be  on  my  head,  and  there  an  end. 
Take  leave  ano!  part;  for  you  must  part  forthwith,  p    W 

K.  Rich.    Doubly  divorced !    Bad  men,  you  violate 
A  twofold  marriage,  'twixt  my  crown  and  me, 
And  then  betwixt  me  and  my  married  wife. 
Let  me  unkiss  the  oath  'twixt  thee  and  me; 
And  yet  not  so,  for  with  a  kiss  't  was  made. 
Part  us,  Northumberland;  I  towards  the  north, 
Where  shivering  cold  and  sickness  pines  the  clime; 
My  wife  to  France:  from  whence,  set  forth  in  pomp, 
She  came  adorned  hither  like  sweet  May, 
Sent  back  like  Hallowmas  or  short'st  of  day.  so 

Queen.     And  must  we  be  divided?  must  we  part? 

K .  Rich.     Ay,  hand  from  hand,  my  love,  and  heart 
from  heart. 

Queen.     Banish  us  both  and  send  the  king  with  me. 

North.     That  were  some  love  but  little  policy. 

Queen.    Then  whither  he  goes,  thither  let  me  go. 

K.  Rich.    So  two,  together  weeping,  make  one  woe. 
Weep  thou  for  me  hi  France,  I  for  thee  here; 
Better  far  off  than  near,  be  ne'er  the  near. 
Go,  count  thy  way  with  sighs;  I  mine  with  groans. 

Queen.     So  longest  way  shall  have  the  longest 

moans.  •• 


86  KING  RICHARD    1 1  [Acr 

A'.  Rich.    Twice  for  one  step  I  '11  groan,  the  way 

being  short 

And  piece  the  way  out  with  a  heavy  heart. 
Come,  come,  in  wooing  sorrow  let 's  be  brief, 
Since,  wedding  it,  there  is  such  length  in  grief: 
One  kiss  shall  stop  our  mouths,  and  dumbly  part; 
Thus  give  I  mine,  and  thus  take  I  thy  heart. 

Queen.     Give  me  mine  own  again;  't  were  no  good 

part 

To  take  on  me  to  keep  and  kill  thy  heart. 
So,  now  I  have  mine  own  again,  be  gone, 
That  I  may  strive  to  kill  it  with  a  groan.  tec 

K.  Rich.     We  make  woe  wanton  with  this  fond 

delay: 
Once  more,  adieu;  the  rest  let  sorrow  say.    [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  The  DUKE  OF  YORK'S  palace 
Enter  YORK  and  his  DUCHESS 

Duch.    My  lord,  you  told  me  you  would  tell  the 

rest, 

When  weeping  made  you  break  the  story  off, 
Of  our  two  cousins  coming  into  London. 

York.    Where  did  I  leave? 

Duch.  At  that  sad  stop,  my  lord, 

Where  rude  misgovern'd  hands  from  windows'  tops 
Threw  dust  and  rubbish  on  King  Richard's  head. 

York.    Then,  as  I  said,  the  duke,  great  Boling- 

broke, 

Mounted  upon  a  hot  and  fiery  steed 
Which  his  aspiring  rider  seem'd  to  know, 
With  slow  but  stately  pace  kept  on  his  course,  n 


SCENE  Two]  KING   RICHARD   H  87 

Whilst  all  tongues  cried  'God  save  thee,  Boling- 

broke ! ' 

5fou  would  have  thought  the  very  windows  spake, 
So  many  greedy  looks  of  young  and  old 
Through  casements  darted  their  desiring  eyes 
Upon  his  visage,  and  that  all  the  walls 
With  painted  imagery  had  said  at  once 
'Jesu  preserve  thee!  welcome,  Bolingbroke!' 
Whilst  he,  from  the  one  side  to  the  other  turning, 
Bareheaded,  lower  than  his  proud  steed's  neck, 
Bespake  them  thus;  'I  thank  you,  countrymen ':         «o 
And  thus  still  doing,  thus  he  pass'd  along. 
Duck.     Alack,  poor  Richard!  where  rode  he  the 

whilst? 

York.    As  in  a  theatre,  the  eyes  of  men, 
After  a  well-graced  actor  leaves  the  stage, 
Are  idly  bent  on  him  that  enters  next, 
Thinking  his  prattle  to  be  tedious; 
Even  so,  or  with  much  more  contempt,  men's  eyes 
Did  scowl  on  gentle  Richard;  no  man  cried  'God  save 

him!' 

No  joyful  tongue  gave  him  his  welcome  home: 
But  dust  was  thrown  upon  his  sacred  head;  st 

Which  with  such  gentle  sorrow  he  shook  off, 
His  face  still  combating  with  tears  and  smiles, 
The  badges  of  his  grief  and  patience, 
That  had  not  God,  for  some  strong  purpose,  steel'd 
The  hearts  of  men,  they  must  perforce  have  melted 
And  barbarism  itself  have  pitied  him* 
But  heaven  hath  a  hand  in  these  events, 
To  whose  high  will  we  bound  our  calm  contents. 
To  Bolingbroke  are  we  sworn  subjects  now, 


gg  KING   RICHARD  II  lAcr  FIVE 

Whose  state  and  honour  I  for  aye  allow. 

Duck.     Here  comes  my  son  Au merle. 

York.  Aumerle  that  was; 

But  that  is  lost  for  being  Richard's  friend, 
And,  madam,  you  must  call  him  Rutland  now: 
I  am  in  parliament  pledge  for  his  truth 
And  lasting  fealty  to  the  new-made  king. 

Enter  AUMERLE 

Duch.     Welcome,  my  son :  who  are  the  violets  now 
That  strew  the  green  lap  of  the  new  come  spring? 

Aum.     Madam,  I  know  not,  nor  I  greatly  care  not: 
God  knows  I  had  as  lief  be  none  as  one. 

York.    WTell,  bear  you  weU  in  this  new  spring  of 

time, 

Lest  you  be  cropp'd  before  you  come  to  prime. 
What  news  from  Oxford?  hold  those  justs  and  tri- 
umphs? 

Aum.     For  aught  I  know,  my  lord,  they  do. 

York.     You  will  be  there,  I  know. 

Aum.     If  God  prevent  not,  I  purpose  so. 

York.     What  seal  is  that,  that  hangs  without  thy 

bosom  ? 
Yea,  look'st  thou  pale?  let  me  see  the  writing. 

Aum.     My  lord,  't  is  nothing. 

York.  No  matter,  then,  who  see  it: 

I  will  be  satisfied;  let  me  see  the  writing. 

Aum.     I  do  beseech  your  grace  to  pardon  me:         < 
It  is  a  matter  of  small  consequence, 
Which  for  some  reasons  I  would  not  have  seen. 

York.     Which  for  some  reasons,  sir,  I  mean  to  see. 
I  fear,  I  fear,  — 


SCENE  Two]          KING  RICHARD  II  89 

Duck.  What  should  you  fear? 

'T  is  nothing  but  some  bond,  that  he  has  enter'd  into 
For  gay  apparel  'gainst  the  triumph  day. 

York.     Bound  to  himself !  what  doth  he  with abond 
That  he  is  bound  to?     Wife,  thou  art  a  fool. 
Boy,  let  me  see  the  writing. 

Aum.     I  do  beseech  you,  pardon  me;  I  may  not 
show  it. 

York.     I  will  be  satisfied;  let  me  see  it,  I  say.  71 

[He  plwks  it  out  of  his  bosom  and  reads  it. 

Treason!  foul  treason!     Villain!  traitor!  slave! 
Duch.     What  is  the  matter,  my  lord? 
York.     Ho!  who  is  within  there? 

Enter  a  Servant 

Saddle  my  horse. 

God  for  his  mercy,  what  treachery  is  here! 
Duch.     Why,  what  is  it,  my  lord? 
York.     Give  me  my  boots,  I  say;  saddle  my  horse. 

[Exit  Servant. 

Now,  by  mine  honour,  by  my  life,  by  my  troth, 
T  will  appeach  the  villain. 

Duch.  What  is  the  matter? 

York.     Peace,  foolish  woman.  so 

Duch.    I  will  not  peace.     What  is  the  matter, 
Aumerle? 

Aum.     Good  mother,  be  content;  it  is  no  more 
Than  my  poor  life  must  answer. 

Duch.  Thy  life  answer! 

York.     Bring  me  my  boots:  I  will  unto  the  king. 

Re-enter  Servant  with  boots 


BO  KING  RICHARD  H  (ACT  Piv« 

Duck.     Strike  him,  Aumerle.     Poor  boy,  thou  art 

amazed. 
Hence,  villain !  never  more  come  in  my  sight. 

York.     Give  me  my  boots,  I  say. 

Duch.     Why,  York,  what  wilt  thou  do? 
Wilt  thou  not  hide  the  trespass  of  thine  own? 
Have  we  more  sons?  or  are  we  like  to  have? 
Is  not  my  teeming  date  drunk  up  with  time? 
And  wilt  thou  pluck  my  fair  son  from  mine  age, 
And  rob  me  of  a  happy  mother's  name? 
Is  he  not  like  thee?  is  he  not  thine  own? 

York.     Thou  fond  mad  woman, 
Wilt  thou  conceal  this  dark  conspiracy? 
A  dozen  of  them  here  have  ta'en  the  sacrament, 
And  interchangeably  set  down  their  hands, 
To  kill  the  king  at  Oxford. 

Duch.  He  shall  be  none; 

We  '11  keep  him  here:  then  what  is  that  to  him?        io« 

York.    Away,  fond  woman!  were  he  twenty  times 

my  son, 
I  would  appeach  him. 

Duch.  Hadst  thou  groan'd  for  him 

As  I  have  done,  thou  wouldst  be  more  pitiful. 
But  now  I  know  thy  mind;  thou  dost  suspect 
That  I  have  been  disloyal  to  thy  bed, 
And  that  he  is  a  bastard,  not  thy  son: 
Sweet  York,  sweet  husband,  be  not  of  that  mind: 
He  is  as  like  thee  as  a  man  may  be, 
Not  like  to  me,  or  any  of  my  kin, 
And  yet  I  love  him. 

York.  Make  way,  unruly  woman! 

[Exit. 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD   II  91 

Duch.     After,    Aumerle!    mount    thee    upon   his 

horse;  111 

Spur  post,  and  get  before  him  to  the  king, 
And  beg  thy  pardon  ere  he  do  accuse  thee. 
I  '11  not  be  long  behind;  though  I  be  old, 
I  doubt  not  but  to  ride  as  fast  as  York : 
And  never  will  I  rise  up  from  the  ground 
Till  Bolingbroke  have  pardon'd  thee.  Away,  be  gone! 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  A  royal  palace 

•!  oh  I     J80tti«-3v.w..»vjaa  bx>i)u.wuL 
Enter  BOLINGBROKE,  PERCY,  and  other  Lords 

Boling.     Can  no  man  tell  me  of  my  unthrifty  son? 
'T  is  full  three  months  since  I  did  see  him  last: 
If  any  plague  hang  over  us,  't  is  he. 
I  would  to  God,  my  lords,  he  might  be  found: 
Inquire  at  London,  'mongst  the  taverns  there, 
For  there,  they  say,  he  daily  doth  frequent, 
With  unrestrained  loose  companions, 
Even  such,  they  say,  as  stand  hi  narrow  lanes, 
And  beat  our  watch,  and  rob  our  passengers; 
Which  he,  young  wanton  and  effeminate  boy,[j  n<»      10 
Takes  on  the  point  of  honour  to  support 
So  dissolute  a  crew. 

Percy.     My  lord,  some  two  days  since  I  saw  the 

prince, 
And  told  him  of  those  triumphs  held  at  Oxford. 

Boling.     And  what  said  the  gallant? 

Percy.     His  answer  was,  he  would  unto  the  stews, 
Ajnd  from  the  common 'st  creature  pluck  a  glove, 
And  wear  it  as  a  favour;  and  with  that 


9«  KING   RICHARD  II  |Acr  FIVB 

He  would  unhorse  the  lustiest  challenger. 

Holing.     As  dissolute  as  desperate;  yet  through 

both  < 

I  see  some  sparks  of  better  hope,  which  elder  years 
May  happily  bring  forth.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  AUMERLE 

Awn.     Where  is  the  king? 

Baling.     What  means  our  cousin,  that  he  stares 

and    looks 
So  wildly? 

A um.     God  save  your  grace!     I  do  beseech  your 

majesty, 

To  have  some  conference  with  your  grace  alone. 
Boling.     Withdraw  yourselves,  and  leave  us  here 
alone. 

[Exeunt  Percy  and  Lord* 

What  is  the  matter  with  our  cousin  now? 

Aum.     For  ever  may  my  knees  grow  to  the  earth,  so 
My  tongue  cleave  to  my  roof  within  my  mouth, 
Unless  a  pardon  ere  I  rise  or  speak. 

Boling.     Intended  or  committed  was  this  fault? 
If  on  the  first,  how  heinous  e'er  it  be, 
To  win  thy  after-love  I  pardon  thee. 

Aum.     Then  give  me  leave  that  I  may  turn  the 

key, 
That  no  man  enter  till  my  tale  be  done. 

Boling.     Have  thy  desire. 

York.     [Within]  My  liege,  beware:  look  to  thyself; 
Thou  hast  a  traitor  in  thy  presence  there. 

Boling.     Villain,  I  '11  make  thee  safe. 

[Drawing. 


SCENE  THREE]         KING    RICHARD   II  93 

A um.     Stay  thy  revengeful  hand;  thou  hast  no 

cause  to  fear. 
York.     [Within]  Open  the  door,  secure,  foolhardy 

king: 

Shall  I  for  love  speak  treason  to  thy  face? 
Open  the  door,  or  I  will  break  it  open. 

Enter  YORK 

Baling.     What  is  the  matter,  uncle?  speak; 
Recover  breath;  tell  us  how  near  is  danger, 
That  we  may  arm  us  to  encounter  it. 

York.     Peruse  this  writing  here,  and  thou  shall 

know 
The  treason  that  my  haste  forbids  me  show.  at 

Aum.    Remember,  as  thou  read'st,  thy  promise 

pass'd: 

I  do  repent  me;  read  not  my  name  there; 
My  heart  is  not  confederate  with  my  hand. 

York.     It  was,  villain,  ere  thy  hand  did  set  it  down. 
I  tore  it  from  the  traitor's  bosom,  king; 
Fear,  and  not  love,  begets  his  penitence: 
Forget  to  pity  him,  lest  thy  pity  prove 
A  serpent  that  will  sting  thee  to  the  heart. 

Baling.     O  heinous,  strong  and  bold  conspiracy ! 
O  loyal  father  of  a  treacherous  son !  eo 

Thou  sheer,  immaculate  and  silver  fountain, 
From  whence  this  stream  through  muddy  passages 
Hath  held  his  current  and  defiled  himself! 
Thy  overflow  of  good  converts  to  bad, 
And  thy  abundant  goodness  shall  excuse 
This  deadly  blot  in  thy  digressing  son. 

York.    So  shall  my  virtue  be  his  vice's  bawd; 


94  KING   RICHARD    II  [Acr  FIVE 

And  he  shall  spend  mine  honour  with  his  shame, 

As  thriftless  sons  their  scraping  fathers'  gold. 

Mine  honour  lives  when  his  dishonour  dies,  ?• 

Or  my  shamed  life  in  his  dishonour  lies: 

Thou  kill'st  me  in  his  life;  giving  him  breath, 

The  traitor  lives,  the  true  man  's  put  to  death. 

Duck.     [Within]  What  ho,  my  liege !  for  God's  sake, 
let  me  in. 

Baling.    What  shrill- voiced  suppliant  makes  this 
eager  cry? 

Duch.    A  woman,  and  thy  aunt,  great  king;  't  is  I. 
Speak  with  me,  pity  me,  open  the  door: 
A  beggar  begs  that  never  begg'd  before. 

Poling.    Our  scene  is  alter'd  from  a  serious  thing, 
And  now  changed  to  'The  Beggar  and  the  King.'       to 
My  dangerous  cousin,  let  your  mother  in: 
I  know  she  is  come  to  pray  for  your  foul  sin. 

York.    If  thou  do  pardon,  whosoever  pray, 
More  sins  for  this  forgiveness  prosper  may. 
This  fester'd  joint  cut  off,  the  rest  rest  sound; 
This  let  alone  will  all  the  rest  confound. 

Enter  DUCHESS 

Duch.    O  king,  believe  not  this  hard-hearted  man! 
Love  loving  not  itself  none  other  can. 

York.    Thou  frantic  woman,  what  dost  thou  make 

here? 

Shall  thy  old  dugs  once  more  a  traitor  rear?  M 

Duch.    Sweet  York,  be  patient.    Hear  me,  gentle 

liege. 

Baling.     Rise  up,  good  aunt. 
Duch.  Not  yet,  I  thee  beseech: 


SCENE  THREE]        KING   RICHARD    II  95 

For  ever  will  I  walk  upon  my  knees,  • 

And  never  see  day  that  the  happy  sees, 
Till  thou  give  joy;  until  thou  bid  me  joy, 
By  pardoning  Rutland,  my  transgressing  boy. 

Aum.    Unto  my  mother's  prayers  I  bend  my  knee. 

York.    Against  them  both  my  true  joints  bended 

be. 
til  mayst  thou  thrive,  if  thou  grant  any  grace! 

Duch.    Pleads  he  in  earnest?  look  upon  his  face;    lot 
His  eyes  do  drop  no  tears,  his  prayers  are  in  jest; 
His  words  come  from  his  mouth,  ours  from  our  breast: 
He  prays  but  faintly  and  would  be  denied; 
We  pray  with  heart  and  soul  and  all  beside: 
His  weary  joints  would  gladly  rise,  I  know; 
Our  knees  shall  kneel  till  to  the  ground  they  grow: 
His  prayers  are  full  of  false  hypocrisy; 
Ours  of  true  zeal  and  deep  integrity. 
Our  prayers  do  out-pray  his;  then  let  them  have 
That  mercy  which  true  prayer  ought  to  have.  no 

Baling.     Good  aunt,  stand  up. 

Duch.  Nay,  do  not  say,  'stand  up'; 

Say  'pardon'  first,  and  afterwards  'stand  up.' 
An  if  I  were  thy  nurse,  thy  tongue  to  teach, 
'  Pardon '  should  be  the  first  word  of  thy  speech. 
I  never  long'd  to  hear  a  word  till  now;  ;o  ,bi 
Say  'pardon,'  king;  let  pity  teach  thee  how: 
The  word  is  short,  but  not  so  short  as  sweet;// 1  JuJ 
No  word  like  'pardon'  for  kings'  mouths  so  meet. 

York.     Speak  it  in  French,  king;  say,  'pardonne 
moi.' 

Duch.     Dost  thou  teach   pardon  pardon  to  de- 
stroy? 1*0 


06  KING   RICHARD  II  (AtT  FIVE 

*Ah,  my  sour  husband,  my  hard-hearted  lord. 
That  set'st  the  word  itself  against  the  word! 
Speak  'pardon'  as  't  is  current  in  our  land; 
The  chopping  French  we  do  not  understand. 
Thine  eye  begins  to  speak;  set  thy  tongue  there; 
Or  in  thy  piteous  heart  plant  thou  thine  ear; 
That  hearing  how  our  plaints  and  prayers  do  pierce. 
Pity  may  move  thee  'pardon'  to  rehearse. 

Baling.     Good  aunt,  stand  up. 

Duch.  I  do  not  sue  to  stand; 

Pardon  is  all  the  suit  I  ha\e  in  hand.  is* 

Baling.     I  pardon  him,  as  God  shall  pardon  me. 

Duch.     O  happy  vantage  of  a  kneeling  knee! 
Yet  am  1  sick  for  fear:  speak  it  again; 
Twice  saying  'pardon'  doth  not  pardon  twain, 
But  makes  one  pardon  strong. 

Baling.  With  all  my  heart 

I  pardon  him. 

Duch.  A  god  on  earth  thou  art. 

Baling.     But  for  our  trusty  brother-in-la\\  and  the 

abbot, 

With  all  the  rest  of  that  consorted  crew, 
Destruction  straight  shall  dog  them  at  the  heels. 
Good  uncle,  help  to  order  several  powers  i » >» 

To  Oxford,  or  where'er  these  traitors  are: 
They  shall  not  live  within  this  world,  I  swear, 
But  I  will  have  them,  if  I  once  know  where. 
Uncle,  farewell:  and,  cousin  too,  adieu: 
Your  mother  well  hath  pray'd,  and  prove  you  true. 

Duch.     Come,  my  old  son:  I  pray  God  make  Ihee 
new. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  FOUR]          KING   RICHARD   II  97 

SCENE  IV  —  The  same 
Enter  EXTON  and  Servant 

Exton.     Didst  thou  not  mark  the  king,  what  words 

he  spake, 

'Have  1  no  friend  will  rid  me  of  this  living  fear?' 
Was  it  not  so? 

Ser.  These  were  his  very  words. 

Exton.     'Have  I  no  friend?'  quoth  he:  he  spake  it 

twice, 
And  urged  it  twice  together,  did  he  not? 

Ser.    He  did. 

Exton.     And  speaking  it,  he  wistly  look'd  on  me; 
As  who  should  say,  'I  would  thou  wert  the  man 
That  would  divorce  this  terror  from  my  heart'; 
Meaning  the  king  at  Pomf ret.     Come,  let 's  go :          i « 
I  am  the  king's  friend,  and  will  rid  his  foe.        [Exeunt. 

SCENE  V  —  Pomf  ret  castle 
Enter  KING  RICHARD 

K.  Rich.     I  have  been  studying  how  I  may  com- 
pare 

This  prison  where  I  live  unto  the  world: 
And  for  because  the  world  is  populous  j./H 

And  here  is  not  a  creature  but  myself, 
I  cannot  do  it;  yet  I  '11  hammer  it  out. 
My  brain  I  '11  prove  the  female  to  my  soul, 
My  soul  the  father;  and  these  two  beget 
A  generation  of  still-breeding  thoughts, 
And  these  same  thoughts  people  this  little  world, 
In  humours  like  the  people  of  this  world,  10 

For  no  thought  is  contented.    The  better  sort, 


98  KING   RICHARD  II  |Acr  Five 

As  thoughts  of  things  divine,  are  intermix'd 

With  scruples  and  do  set  the  word  itself 

Against  the  word: 

As  thus,  'Come,  little  ones,'  and  then  again, 

'  It  is  as  hard  to  come  as  for  a  camel 

To  thread  the  postern  of  a  small  needle's  eye.' 

Thoughts  tending  to  ambition,  they  do  plot 

Unlikely  wonders;  how  these  vain  weak  nails 

May  tear  a  passage  through  the  flinty  ribs  ta 

Of  this  hard  world,  my  ragged  prison  walls, 

And,  for  they  cannot,  die  in  their  own  pride. 

Thoughts  tending  to  content  flatter  themselves 

That  they  are  not  the  first  of  fortune's  slaves, 

Nor  shall  not  be  the  last;  like  silly  beggars 

Who  sitting  in  the  stocks  refuge  their  shame, 

That  many  have  and  others  must  sit  there; 

And  in  this  thought  they  find  a  kind  of  ease, 

Hearing  their  own  misfortunes  on  the  back 

Of  such  as  have  before  endured  the  like.  «o 

Thus  play  I  in  one  person  many  people, 

And  none  contented:  sometimes  am  I  king; 

Then  treasons  make  me  wish  myself  a  beggar, 

And  so  I  am:  then  crushing  penury 

Persuades  me  I  was  better  when  a  king; 

Then  I  am  king'd  again:  and  by  and  by 

Think  that  I  am  unking'd  by  Bolingbroke, 

And  straight  am  nothing:  but  whate'er  I  be. 

Xor  I  nor  any  man  that  but  man  is 

With  nothing  shall  be  pleased,  till  he  be  eased  40 

With  being  nothing.     Music  do  I  hear?          [Music. 

I  la,  ha!  keep  time:  how  sour  sweet  music  is, 

When  time  is  broke  and  no  proportion  kept! 


SCENE  FIVE]  KING  RICHARD  II  99 

So  is  it  in  the  music  of  men's  lives. 

And  here  have  I  the  daintiness  of  ear 

To  check  time  broke  in  a  disorder'd  string; 

But  for  the  concord  of  my  state  and  time 

Had  not  an  ear  to  hear  my  true  time  broke. 

I  wasted  time,  and  now  doth  time  waste  me; 

For  now  hath  time  made  me  his  numbering  clock:      51 

My  thoughts  are  minutes;  and  with  sighs  they  jar 

Their  watches  on  unto  mine  eyes,  the  outward  watch, 

Whereto  my  finger,  like  a  dial's  point, 

Is  pointing  still,  in  cleansing  them  from  tears. 

Now  sir,  the  sound  that  tells  what  hour  it  is 

Are  clamorous  groans,  which  strike  upon  my  heart, 

Which  is  the  bell :  so  sighs  and  tears  and  groans 

Show  minutes,  times,  and  hours :  but  my  time     j« J' 

Runs  posting  on  in  Bolingbroke's  proud  joy, 

While  I  stand  fooling  here,  his  Jack  o'  the  clock.         e« 

This  music  mads  me;  let  it  sound  no  more; 

For  though  it  have  holp  madmen  to  their  wits, 

In  me  it  seems  it  will  make  wise  men  mad. 

Yet  blessing  on  his  heart  that  gives  it  me! 

For  't  is  a  sign  of  love;  and  love  to  Richard 

Is  a  strange  brooch  in  this  all-hating  world. 

Enter  a  Groom  of  the  stable 

Groom.     Hail,  royal  prince! 

K.  Rich.  Thanks,  noble  peer; 

The  cheapest  of  us  is  ten  groats  too  dear. 
What  art  thou  ?  and  how  comest  thou  hither,    . jw 
Where  no  man  never  comes  but  that  sad  dog  7> 

That  brings  me  food  to  make  misfortune  live? 

Groom.     I  was  a  poor  groom  of  thy  stable,  king, 


100  KING   RICHARD   II  [Acr  Fiv. 

When  thou  wert  king;  who,  travelling  towards  York, 

With  much  ado  at  length  have  gotten  leave 

To  look  upon  my  .sometimes  royal  master's  face. 

O,  how  it  yearn'd  my  heart  when  I  beheld 

In  London  streets,  that  coronation-day, 

When  Bolingbroke  rode  on  roan  Barbary, 

That  horse  that  thou  so  often  hast  best  rid, 

That  horse  that  I  so  carefully  have  dress'd! 

K.  Rich.     Rode  he  on  Barbary?     Tell  me,  gentle 

friend, 
How  went  he  under  him? 

Groom.     So  proudly  as  if  he  disdain'd  the  ground. 

K.  Rich.     So  proud  that  Bolingbroke  was  on  his 

back! 

That  jade  hath  eat  bread  from  my  royal  hand; 
This  hand  hath  made  him  proud  with  clapping  him. 
Would  he  not  stumble?  would  he  not  fall  down, 
Since  pride  must  have  a  fall,  and  break  the  neck 
Of  that  proud  man  that  did  usurp  his  back? 
Forgiveness,  horse!  why  do  I  rail  on  thee, 
Since  thou,  created  to  be  awed  by  man, 
Wast  born  to  bear?     I  was  not  made  a  horse; 
And  yet  I  bear  a  burthen  like  an  ass, 
Spurr'd,  gal  I'd  and  tired  by  jauncing  Bolingbroke. 

Enter  Keeper,  with  a  dish 

Keep.     Fellow,  give  place;  here  is  no  longer  stay. 
K .  Rich.   If  thou  love  me,  'tis  time  thou  wert  away. 
Groom.     What  my  tongue  dares  not,  that  my  heart 
shall  say.  [Exit. 

Keep.     My  lord,  will  't  please  you  to  fall  to? 
K.  Rich.    Taste  of  it  first,  as  thou  art  wont  to  do. 


SCENE  FIVE]  KING   RICHARD   H  101 

Keep.     My  lord,  I  dare  not:  Sir  Pierce  of  Exton,  100 
Who   lately  came   from  the   king,  commands  the 

contrary. 
K.  Rich.     The  devil  take  Henry  of  Lancaster  and 

thee! 
Patience  is  stale,  and  I  am  weary  of  it. 

[Beats  the  keeper. 

Keep.     Help,  help,  help ! 

Enter  EXTON  and  Servants,  armed 

K.  Rich.     How  now!  what  means  death  in  this 

rude  assault? 

Villain,  thy  own  hand  yields  thy  death's  instrument. 
[Snatching  an  axe  from  a  Servant  and  killing  him. 
Go  thou,  and  fill  another  room  in  hell. 

[He  kills  another.     Then  Exton  strikes  him  doum. 

That  hand  shall  burn  in  never-quenching  fire 

That  staggers  thus  my  person.     Exton,  thy  fierce 

hand 
Hath  with  the  king's  blood  stain'd  the  king's  own 

land.  no 

Mount,  mount,  my  soul !  thy  seat  is  up  on  high; 
Whilst  my  gross  flesh  sinks  downward,  here  to  die. 

[Dies. 

Exton.     As  full  of  valour  as  of  royal  blood : 
Both  have  I  spill'd:  O  would  the  deed  were  good! 
For  now  the  devil,  that  told  me  I  did  well, 
Says  that  this  deed  is  chronicled  in  hell. 
This  dead  king  to  the  living  king  I  '11  bear: 
Take  hence  the  rest,  and  give  them  burial  here. 

F.xeurd. 


10*  KING  RICHARD  II  [Acr  Fivm 

SCENE  VI  —  Windsor  cattle 

flourish.     Enter  BOMNGRROKE,  YORK,  vith  other  Txirds, 
and  Attendants 

Baling .     Kind  uncle  York,  the  latest  news  we  hear 
Is  that  the  rebels  have  consumed  with  fire 
Our  town  of  Cicester  in  Gloucestershire; 
But  whether  they  be  ta'en  or  slain  wre  hear  not. 

Enter  NORTHUMBERLAND 

Welcome,  my  lord:  what  is  the  news? 

North.     First,  to  thy  sacred  state  wish  I  all  happi- 
ness. 

The  next  news  is,  I  have  to  London  sent 
The  heads  of  Salisbury,  Spencer,  Blunt,  and  Kent: 
The  manner  of  their  taking  may  appear 
At  large  discoursed  in  this  paper  here.  it 

Baling.     We  thank  thee,  gentle  Percy,  for  thy 

pains; 
And  to  thy  worth  will  add  right  worthy  gains. 

Enter  FITZWATEB 

Fife.     My    lord,    I    have    from    Oxford    sent    to 

London 

The  heads  of  Brocas  and  Sir  Bennet  Seely, 
Two  of  the  dangerous  consorted  traitors 
That  sought  at  Oxford  thy  dire  overthrow. 

Baling.     Thy  pains,  Fitz water,  shall  not  be  forgot; 
Right  noble  is  thy  merit,  well  I  wot. 

Enter  PERCY,  ami  the  BISHOP  OF  CARLISLE 

Percy.     The  grand  conspirator,  Abbot  of  West- 
minster, 


SCENE  Six]  KING  RICHARD  II  103 

With  clog  of  conscience  and  sour  melancholy  «o 

Hath  yielded  up  his  body  to  the  grave; 

But  here  is  Carlisle  living,  to  abide 

Thy  kingly  doom  and  sentence  of  his  pride. 

Baling.     Carlisle,  this  is  your  doom: 
Choose  out  some  secret  place,  some  reverend  room, 
More  than  thou  hast,  and  with  it  joy  thy  life; 
So  as  thou  livest  in  peace,  die  free  from  strife: 
For  though  mine  enemy  thou  hast  ever  been, 
High  sparks  of  honour  in  thee  have  I  seen. 

Enter  EXTON,  with  persons  bearing  a  coffin 

Exton.     Great  king,  within  this  coffin  I  present       so 
Thy  buried  fear:  herein  all  breathless  lies 
The  mightiest  of  thy  greatest  enemies, 
Richard  of  Bordeaux,  by  me  hither  brought. 

Baling .     Exton,  I  thank  thee  not;  for  thou  hast 

wrought 

A  deed  of  slander  with  thy  fatal  hand 
Upon  my  head  and  all  this  famous  land. 

Exton.     From  your  own  mouth,  my  lord,  did  I  this 
deed. 

Baling.     They  love  not  poison  that  do  poison 

need, 

Nor  do  I  thee:  though  I  did  wish  him  dead, 
I  hate  the  murderer,  love  him  murdered.  4 

The  guilt  of  conscience  take  thou  for  thy  labour, 
But  neither  my  good  word  nor  princely  favour: 
With  Cain  go  wander  thorough  shades  of  night, 
And  never  show  thy  head  by  day  nor  light. 
Lords,  I  protest,  my  soul  is  full  of  woe, 
That  blood  should  sprinkle  me  to  make  me  grow: 


104  KING   RICHARD  II  (Aer  Fiv« 

Come,  mourn  with  me  for  that  I  do  lament, 

And  put  on  sullen  black  incontinent: 

I  'II  make  a  voyage  to  the  Holy  Land, 

To  wash  this  blood  off  from  my  guilty  hand:  so 

March  sadly  after;  grace  my  mournings  here; 

In  weeping  after  this  untimely  bier.  [Exeunt. 


NOTES. 


LIST  OF   PRINCIPAL   REFERENCES   AND   CONTRACTIONS. 


Abbott 

Cl.  Pr.  edd. 
Coleridge. . . 
Dowden .... 
Dowden,  SA 
Edw.  II.... 


E.E 

Kellner. . . 
K6nig.... 
Kreyssig. . 

Ludwig. . . 

M.  E 

Md.E.... 

O.E 

O.H.G... 
Ransome.. 
W.  .. 


..Dr.  E.  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (Macmillan). 
.The  Editors  of  Richard  II.  in  the  Clarendon  Press  Series. 
.S.  T.  Coleridge,  Lectures  on  Shakespeare,  edited  by  T.  Ashe. 
.  Professor  Dowden's  Shakspere :  His  Mind  and  A  rt. 

„  „         Shakspert  Printer. 

.  Marlowe's  Edward  II.    The  references  are  to  Dyce's  edition  oi 

Marlowe  in  one  volume. 
.  Elizabethan  English. 

.L.  Kellner:  Historical  Outlines  of  English  Syntax  (Macmillan). 
,  .G.  K6nig :  Der  Vers  in  Shaksperes  Dramen  (Trubner). 
.F.   Kreyssig:    Vorlesungen  Hbcr  Shakespeare  (2  vols. ;    Berlin: 

Nicolaische  Buchhandlung). 

,  .O.  Ludwig:  Shakespearestudien  (Leipzig:  Cnobloch). 
..Middle  English  (about  1100-1500). 
, .  Modern  English. 
. .  Old  English  (Anglo-Saxon). 
.  .Old  High  German. 

.  .C.  Ransome :  Short  Studies  of  Shakespeare's  Plots  (Macmillan). 
..Welsh. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONS. 

The  following  notes  give  some  historical  particulars  of  the  persons 
represented,  so  far  as  conducive  to  the  comprehension  of  the  play, 
together  with  such  of  Shakespeare's  departures  from  history  as 
appeared  to  be  undesigned. 

i.  KING  RICHARD  II.  Born  in  1367,  Richard  was  just  over 
thirty  at  the  outset  of  the  action.  His  government  had  passed 
through  three  clearly  marked  phases.  The  phase  of  tutelage  had 
been  peremptorily  terminated  by  himself  in  1389.  The  phase  of 
constitutional  government  had  closed,  in  1397,  with  the  coup  d'etat, 
which  opened  the  final  and  fatal  phase  of  despotism.  "Richard 
knew  that  Gloucester  was  ready  to  avail  himself  of  any  widespread 
dissatisfaction,  and  that  he  had  recently  been  allying  himself  with 
Lancaster  against  him.  ...He  resolved  to  anticipate  the  blow. ...Glou- 
cester was  imprisoned  at  Calais,  where  he  was  secretly  murdered,  as 
was  generally  believed  by  the  order  of  the  king.  ...He  seems  to  have 
believed  that  Gloucester  was  plotting  to  bring  him  back  into  the 
servitude  to  which  he  had  been  subjected  by  the  Commissioners  of 
regency. ...In  1398,  he  summoned  a  packed  Parliament  to  Shrews- 


106  KING    RICHARD   II. 

bury,  which  delegated  all  parliamentary  power  to  a  committee  of 
twelve  lords  and  six  commoners  chosen  from  the  king's  friends. 
Richard  was  thus  made  an  absolute  ruler  unbound  by  the  necessity 
of  gathering  a  Parliament  again".1  It  was  at  this  Shrewsbury 
Parliament  that  Bolingbroke's  charge  of  treason  against  Norfolk  was 
first  publicly  brought  forward.  Its  hearing  was  adjourned  to  the 
meeting  at  Windsor  with  which  the  play  opens. 

2.  JOHN  OF  GAUNT.     The  imposing  personality  of  Shakespeare's 
Gaunt  is,  as  has  been  said,  quite  unhistorical.     His  career  was  now 
over.      Born  in  134031  Ghent,  he  was  in  1398  the  eldest  surviving 
son  of  Edward  III.     Neither  abroad  nor  at  home  had  his  career  been 
glorious.     The  great  victories  of  the  early  campaigns  belonged  to 
his  elder  brother  and  the  king:  it  was  reserved  for  Gaunt  to  lead  the 
disastrous  war  of   1373-5   by  which   almost  all    that   remained  of 
Edward's  conquests  in  France  was  lost.     On  his  return  he  assumed 
the  lead  of  the  anti-clerical  party,  and    posed  as  the   protector  of 
Wycliffe.     At  Richard's  accession  he  held  the  first  place  in  power, 
but  was  generally  distrusted ;  and   his  unpopularity  culminated  in 
the  crisis  of  1386,  which  transferred  the  lead  to  Gloucester.     His 
disastrous  adventure  in  Spain  in  the  same  year  still  further  lowered 
his  prestige.    Richard,  however,  towards  the  close  of  his  constitutional 
period  openly  courted  him,  and  offended  public  opinion  by  legitimatiz- 
ing the  illegitimate  children  of  his  third  wife. 

3.  EDMUND  OF  LANGLEY,  Duke  of  York,  bom  1341,  was,  after 
Gaunt's  death,  the  last  survivor  of  Edward  III.'s  sons.     His  un- 
ambitious character  led  him,  unlike  his  elder  brothers,  Gaunt  and 
the  Black  Prince,  to  keep  aloof  from  the  violent  party  struggles  of 
his  time ;  nor  is  there  any  record  of  the  military  feat  of  which  he  is 
made  to  boast  (ii.  3.  100).     He  died  in  1402. 

4.  HENRY,  surnamed  BOLINGBROKE,  Earl  of  Derby,  Duke  of 
Hereford  [spelt  frequently  Herford  in  the  old  copies,  and  always 
so  pronounced],  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  by  his  first  wife,  Blanche 
(Chaucer's  "Duchesse").     Born  in  1366,  and  thus  almost  of  Rich- 
ard's age,  he  had  already  taken  a  decisive  part,  in   1387-8,  in  the 
strong  measures  by  which  the  king  was  kept  in  tutelage,  being  (with 
Gloucester)  one  of  the  five  'lords  appellant'  who  challenged  the 
king's  counsellors.     At  the  time  of  Richard's  resistance  to  Glou- 
cester, however,  Hereford  was  more  favourable  to  the  king;  nor  was 
his  'appeal'  against  Mowbray  in  reality,  as  it  appears  in  the  play,  a 
covert  attack  upon  Richard  for  Gloucester's  murder.     The  account 
of  the  appeal  is  Shakespeare's  most  signal  departure  from  history  in 
this  play;  but  as  he  implicitly  follows  Holinshed,  we  cannot  regard 
it  as  intentional.     Hereford,  first  privately  to  the  king,   and  then 
openly  before  the  Shrewsbury  Parliament,  3Oth  Jan.  1398,  charged 
Mowbray  with  having,   in  a  conversation  held  as  they  rode  from 
Brentford  to  London,  in  the  previous  December,  spoken  treason  of 

1  Gardiner:  Student's  History  of  England,  i.  pp.  28-^-3. 


NOTES.  107 

the  king,  to  the  effect  that  he  designed,  in  spite  of  the  pledges  he 
had  given,  to  ruin  the  two  Dukes.  Mowbray  did  not  appear.  The 
matter  was  referred  to  the  permanent  Commission  which  had  just 
been  appointed.  Both  Hereford  and  Norfolk  appeared  before  the 
Commission  at  Oswestry,  Feb.  23,  and  Norfolk  solemnly  denied  the 
charge.  Thereupon  both  were  arrested,  Norfolk  being  actually  con- 
fined at  Windsor,  while  Bolingbroke  was  released  on  bail;  and  a 
court  was  summoned  at  Windsor,  April  28,  to  decide  the  matter. 
Bolingbroke  persisted  in  his  assertion,  and  Norfolk  in  his  denial ; 
and  no  witness  being  available,  the  king  ordered  the  trial  by  combat 
to  take  place  at  Coventry,  Sep.  16.  The  sequel  as  in  the  play.1 
Bolingbroke's  appeal  had  then  nothing  to  do  with  the  charges  of 
peculation,  treasonable  plots,  and  participation  in  the  murder  of 
Gloucester,  which  Holinshed  and  Shakespeare  put  in  his  mouth. 
But  the  legend  gives  the  matter  a  much  finer  significance  than  the 
true  story;  since  Bolingbroke's  charge  becomes,  in  the  former  ver- 
sion, a  subtle  first  move  towards  the  crown,  and  thus  an  admirable 
opening  for  the  drama  of  deposition:  while,  in  the  latter,  it  is 
merely  a  desperate  effort  to  save  himself  at  Mowbray's  expense,  and 
has  no  relation  to  the  sequel  except  in  so  far  as  it  led  to  his  banish- 
ment. 

5.  Duke  of  AUMERLE.     Edward,  Duke  of  Aumerle,  Earl  of  Rut- 
land,  was  York's  eldest  (but  not  his  'only')  son.     He  had  long 
passed  as  one  of  Richard's  confidants,  and  was,  in  I395»  one  of 
the  ambassadors  who  negotiated  Richard's  marriage  to  the  French 
princess,  Isabella,  then  eight  years  old.     He  was  deprived  of  his 
ducal  title  by  Henry's  first  parliament.     On  York's  death,  however, 
he  succeeded  to  the  duchy,  "  and  as  Duke  of  York,  led  the  vanguard 
at  Agincourt,  Oct.  25,  1415,  where  he  was  slain.     See  Henry  V. 
iv.  3.  130;  iv.  6".   (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

6.  THOMAS  MOWBRAY,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Earl  of  Nottingham 
[written  Moubrey  in  the  old  editions,  never  trisyllabic,  as  often  in 
Marlowe's  Edward  //.].     Mowbray,  as  governor  of  Calais,  received 
the  custody  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  shortly  after  his  sudden 
arrest  in  Aug.  1397.    The  exact  nature  and  the  cause  of  Gloucester's 
death  remain  obscure;  but  it  was  the  universal  conviction  that  he 
was  murdered  by  Richard's  order,  and  with  Mowbray's  cognizance. 
[On  his  quarrel  with  BOLINGBROKE,  see  that  article.]     The  greater 
severity  of  Norfolk's  punishment  was  justified  in  the  actual  sentence 
by  the  declaration  that  he  had  confessed  to  some  part  of  Boling- 
broke's  charges.     Moreover,   it   appears   that   other  charges   were 
brought  against  him  in  the  council,  including  that  of  embezzlement 
of  public  money,  which  the  chronicle  makes  a  part  of  Bolingbroke's 
'appeal'.     The  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem  was   imposed  as  part  of 
the  sentence.     He  died,  Sep.  1399,  at  Venice,  on  his  return.     On 
a  representation  in  stone,  found  at  Venice,  of  his  Marshal's  banner, 

1  Pauli :  Gtschichtc  von  England,  iv.  615  f. 


lo8  KING    RICHARD   II. 

the  arms  of  the  King  of  England  are  combined  with  those  of  the 
House  of  Lancaster  and  his  own.  (1'auli,  v.  p.  620;  based  on  the 
Kolti;  the  last  detail,  on  Archnol.  Bnt.  xxix.  387.) 

7.  Duke  of  SURKKY.    "Thomas  Holland,  third  earl  of  Kent,  was 
created  duke  of  Surrey,  2pth  Sep.    1397.      He  was  degraded  to  his 
former   title   of   'Kent1,   3rd   Nov.    1399,  and  joining  in  the  plot 
against  Henry  IV    was  taken  and  beheaded  by  the  inhabitants  of 
Cirencester   at    the  beginning   of  the  year   1400."    (Cl.    Pr.    edd.) 
He  is  the  'lord  Marshal*  of  i.    i.  204,  having  been  created  "for 
that  tourne  Marshal  of  England".   (//>.) 

8.  Earl  of  SALISBURY.     "John  Montacute,  third  earl  of  Salis- 
bury of  that  surname,  son  of  Sir  John  de  Montacute,  one  of  the 
heroes  of  Crecy,  succeeded  his  uncle,  one  of  the  original  Knights  of 
the  Garter."      He  took  part  in  the  plot  of  1400  against  Henry  IV. 
(v.  6.  8),  and  was  beheaded  by  the  townsmen  of  Cirencester.   (Cl. 
Pr.  edd.) 

9.  Lord   BERKELEY.       "Thomas,    fifth    Baron    Berkeley,    was 
summoned  to  Parliament  for  the  first  time  on  the  lOth  July,  1381, 
for  the  last  on  Jrd  Sep.  1417."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

10.  BISHY,  Sir  John,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  1394, 
was  appointed  with  Sir  H.   Green,  in  1398,  to  act  with  four  other 
commoners  and  twelve  peers,  in  the  Commission  above  referred  to; 
invested  at  Shrewsbury  with  the  whole  powers  of  Lords  and  Com- 
mons. (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

n.  GREEN,  Sir  Henry,  son  of  Sir  Henry  Green,  justice  of  the 
court  of  Queen's  Bench,  1349-50.     (See  last  note.)     (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

12.  BAGOT,  Sir  William,  Sheriff  of  Leicestershire  6  and  7  Rich- 
ard II.  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

13.  Earl  of  NORTHUMBERLAND.     The  head  of  the  Percy  family, 
now  an  old  man.     He  had  taken  no  conspicuous  part  in  the  events 
of  Edward  III.'s  and  Richard's  reigns;  but  "had  been  Earl  Marshal 
in  the  former  reign  and  at  Richard's  coronation".     He  acted  as 
Lord  Constable  at  the  Deposition.     He  was  the  most  powerful  of 
English  feudal  lords,  and  his  aid  was  a  decisive  factor  in  Boling- 
broke'r.  success.     His  revolt  and  defeat  at  Shrewsbury,  1403,  belongs 
to  the  following  play.     He  himself  was  not  actually  present  at  the 
battle,  and  in  1404  was  pardoned  on  promise  of  submission. 

14.  HENRY  PERCY  (Hotspur).    Born  1364.   He  was  thus  some 
two  years  older  than  Bolingbroke  and  Richard.     But  Shakespeare, 
"both  in  this  play  and  in  /  Henry  IV.  i.  I.  86-90;  iii.  2.  103,  112, 
represents  him  as  much  younger,  and  of  the  same  age  as  Prince  Hal, 
who   was   born   about    1388".  (Cl.    Pr.   edd.)      He  was  killed  at 
Shrewsbury,  1403. 

15.  Lord  Ross.      "William  de  Ros,  who  succeeded  his  brother  as 
7th  Lord  Ross  of  Hnmlake,  in  1394.     He  was  made  Lord  Treasurer 
under  Henry  IV..  aixl  died  in  1414."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 


NOTES.  109 

1 6.  Lord     WILLOUGHBY.        "William,    5th    Lord    Willougliby 
d'Eresby,  made  K.G.   by   Richard;  married  the  Duchess  of  York 
(see  below),  and  died  1409."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

17.  Lord  FlTZWATER.      "Walter  Fitzwater  or  Fitzwalter,  fifth 
Baron,  was  summoned  to  Parliament  from  Sep.  12,  1390,  to  Aug. 
25,  1404  ;  died  1407."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

1 8.  Bishop  of  CARLISLE.     "Thomas  Merks,  who  had  been  a 
Benedictine  monk  of  Westminster;   consecrated  bishop  in    1397." 
(Cl.  Pr.  edd.)     Holinshed  describes  him  as  "a  man  both  learned, 
wise,  and  stoute  of  stomacke".     On  the  circumstances  of  his  cus- 
tody, see  next  note.     His  pardon  and  liberation  (described  in  v.  6. 
22  f. )  took  place  Nov.  28,  1400.      "  On  Aug.  13,  1404,  he  was  pre- 
sented by  the  Abbot  of  Westminster  to  the  rectory  of  Todenham  in 
Gloucestershire,  and  probably  died  about  the  end  of  1409,  as  his 
successor  was  instituted   I3th  Jan.    1409-10  per  mortem   Thomae 
Merks."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

19.  Abbot  of  WESTMINSTER.     Holinshed's  account  of  this  Abbot 
(followed   in  part  by  Shakespeare)  seems  to  be  defective  in  two 
points.     William  of  Colchester,  abbot  from    1386,  did  not  die  in 
1400;  he  was  afterwards  despatched  by  Henry  to  the  Council  of 
Constance,  and  died  in  1420.     It  was  he,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
actually  received  the  custody  of  Carlisle,  and  not  the  Abbot  of  St. 
Albans,  as  Holinshed  states. 

20.  Sir  STEPHEN  SCROOP,  "of  Masham,  son  and  heir  of  Henry 
first  Baron  Scroop,  and  elder  brother  of  William  Earl  of  Wiltshire. 
He  became  famous  as  a  soldier  in  his  father's  lifetime,  and  continued 
to  be  calledj  Sir  Stephen  even  after  he  had  succeeded  to  his  father's 
barony  in  1392."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

21.  Sir  PIERCE  of  Exton.     He  is  "supposed  to  have  been  a  re- 
lative of  Sir  Nicholas  Exton,  who  was  one  of  the  Sheriffs  of  London 
>n  1385  and  Lord  Mayor  in  1386  and  1389  ".    (Diet  Nat.  Biogr.) 

22.  QUEEN.     Isabella,  daughter  of  Charles  VI.  of  France,  bom 
1388.     She  had  been  married  to  Richard  in  1396;  and  the  alliance 
had  led  to  the  prolongation  of  the  truce  with  her  father  for  a  further 
term  of  twenty-eight  years. 

23.  Duchess  of  YORK.     The  Duchess  here  presented  was  not  the 
mother  of  Aumerle  (the  first  Duchess,  who  died  1394),  but  York's 
second  wife,  Joan  Holland,  third  daughter  of  Thomas  Earl  of  Kent, 
son  of  Joan  Plantagenet  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  the 
Black  Prince  and  mother  of  Richard  II.     The  Duchess  was  thus 
Richard's  niece  by  birth  and  his  aunt  by  marriage.     After  York's 
death  she  was  thrice  married.   (Cl.  Pr.  edd.)    The  Duke  of  Exeter 
mentioned  in  ii.  I.  281,  and  alluded  to  in  v.  3.  137  (when  he  had 
been  degraded  to  his  title  of  Earl  of  Huntingdon),  was  also  a  Holland, 
son  of  Joan  Plantagenet. 

(858)  H 


no  KINO    RICHARD   II.  [Act  I. 

34.  Duchess  of  GLOITKSIKR.  Eleanor  Buhun,  daughter  of  Hum- 
phrey, Karl  of  Northampton.  Her  sister  Mary  was  Bolingbroke's 
wife.  She  is  said  by  llolinshed  to  have  died  in  1 391),  "through 
sorrow  as  was  thought,  which  she  conceyued  for  the  losse  of  hir 
sonne  and  hayre  the  Lorde  Humfrey  ".  (Cl.  Pr.  cdd.) 

ACT    I.— [The    Banishment.] 

Act  I.  Sc.  i. — The  opening  s<ene  of  a  play  has  two  functions:  (l) 
to  start  the  action,  (2)  to  disclose  the  information  necessary  for  under- 
standing it.  Successfully  to  combine  them  is  a  mark  of  the  accom- 
plished dramatist.  The  classical  drama  mostly  preferred  to  make 
the  situation  clear  at  the  outset,  either  by  a  preliminary  Monologue 
or  Dialogue  antecedent  to  the  action,  or  by  a  'Prologue',  which  at 
the  same  time  commonly  gave  an  outline  of  the  Plot.  In  the  early 
I-.li/alK-iliaii  drama  the  situation  was  often  explained  by  a  'Chorus* 
(Marlowe's  Dr.  Fiiustiu},  or  the  plot  foreshadowed  in  a  dumb-show, 
or  the  principal  person  delivered  a  statement  of  his  designs  at  the 
outset,— a  method  still  retained  in  Kichani  III.  Shakespeare's 
opening  scenes  commonly  effect  his  purpose  more  artistically  and  in 
an  immense  variety  of  ways.  Rarely,  we  find  the  scene  fulfilling  one 
of  the  two  functions  almost  alone.  Thus  (')  Temfest:  the  wreck 
starts  the  action  but  gives  almost  no  information;  or  (2)  Cymbtline: 
the  'Two  Gentlemen  give  us  information  while  the  action  waits.  It 
is  notable  that  both  belong  to  Shakespeare's  last  period,  of  '  lordly 
licence '.  But  both  functions  may  be  combined  in  various  ways. 
Thus  (3)  the  scene  may  symbolize  the  main  action,  and  thus  strike 
the  key-note  to  the  play,  as  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  (the  quarrel  of  the 
Capulet  and  Montague  servants)  w'vn  Julius  drsar  ('the  attachment 
of  the  people  to  the  newest  war  chief,  and  the  jealousy  of  the  nobles') ; 
or  in  Alacheth  (the  witch  'equivocators'  at  work);  or  (4)  the  main 
action  is  commenced,  without  any  preface,  and  the  situation  gra- 
dually explained  by  a  series  of  touches,  as  in  most  of  the  English 
Histories,  the  King  being  often  the  first  speaker,  as  in  King  John, 
Henry  /F.,  and  our  play.  So  in  King  Lear  (a  scene  pronounced  by 
Goethe  irrational  ( '  absurd ' )  for  its  want  of  preparation).  Note 
especially  the  opening  scene  of  Hamlet,  where  the  main  action  is 
gradually  opened,  and  the  information  gradually  distilled,  while  the 
Ghost,  like  the  Witches  in  Macbeth,  strikes  the  key-note.  (See  Cole- 
ridge's note  on  First  Scenes,  Lectures,  p.  346. ) 

Act  I.— Scene  I. 

1-6.  "It  is  interesting  to  a  critical  ear  to  compare  these  lines, 
each  closing  at  the  tenth  syllable,  with  the  rhythmless  metre  of  the 
verse  in  Henry  /'/.  and  Titus  Andronicus."  (Coleridge.)  Let  the 
student  make  the  comparison.  As  it  is  important  that  the  reader 
should  realize  that  the  modern  text  does  not  exactly  represent  Elu»- 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  in 

bethan  spelling,  these  six  lines  are  here  reproduced  literally  from 
the  First  Quarto — 

"  Ould  John  of  Gaunt,  (ime-honoured  Lancaster, 
Hast  thou  according  to  thy  oath  and  bande 
Brought  hither  Henrie  Herford  thy  bolde  sonne, 
Here  to  make  good  the  boistrous  late  appeale 
Which  then  our  leysure  would  not  let  vs  heare 
Against  the  duke  of  Norfolke,  Thomas  Moubrey?" 

1.  Old.     For  Gaunt's  real  age  see  historical  note  above. 

2.  band.     The  word  had  in  E.  E.  the  senses  of  our  bond  as  well 
as  of  band.     Cf.  the  pun  in  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  2.  48— 

"  Tell  me,  was  he  arrested  on  a  band? 
— Not  on  a  band,  but  on  a  stronger  thing ; 
A  chain...". 
See  Glossary. 

3.  Hereford.     On  the  scansion  of  this  name  see  note  on  BOLING- 
BROKE  above. 

4.  appeal,  a  formal  challenge,    based  upon  a  criminal  charge 
which  the  accuser  was  bound  to  '  make  good  '  at  an  appointed  time 
and  place,  both  parties  giving  security  for  their  appearance.    In  this 
case  Gaunt  has  become  surety  for  his  son.     The  abuse  of  this  in- 
stitution was  one  of  Richard's  expedients  for  raising  money.    Holin- 
shed  relates  that  in  the  last  years  of  the  reign,  "many  of  the  king's 
people  were  through  spite,  envy,  and  malice  accused,  apprehended, 
and  put  in  prison  ...  and  might  not  otherwise  be  delivered,  except 
they  could  justify  themselves  by  combat  and  fighting  in  the  lists 
against  the  accusers  hand  to  hand". 

5.  Not  the  historical  ground.     See  note  on  Bolingbroke  above. 

9.  on,  on  the  ground  of.  This  sense  of  on,  springing  from  the 
temporal  sense  'immediately  after',  is  practically  obsolete  in  Md.E., 
but  common  in  Shakespeare;  cf.  "a  thing  to  thank  God  on",  /  Henry 
IV.  iii.  3.  134. 

12.  sift. ..argument.     To  'sift'  a  man,  in  Shakespeare's  usage, 
is  to  discover  his  true  motives  or  designs  by  dexterous  questioning. 
So,  the  king  speaks  of  'sifting'  Hamlet,  i.e.  finding  the  ground  of 
his  '  madness'  (Hamlet,  ii.  2.  58). 

argument,  subject.     See  Glossary. 

13.  apparent,  evident. 

15.  face  to  face  and  frowning  brow  to  brow.  Note  the 
picturesque  detail,  and  how  it  is  thrown  into  the  most  prominent 
position  in  the  sentence,  even  at  some  cost  to  clearness  of  meaning. 

18.  High-stomach'd.  Stomach  is  used  by  Shakespeare  both 
for  'appetite'  in  general,  and  especially  of  'appetite  for  battle', 


M2  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  I. 

'warlike  spirit*.     Cf.  Antony's  taunt  to  Hrutus  and  C'assius,  Julius 
drsar,  v.   I.  66 — 

"  If  you  dare  fight  to  day,  come  to  the  field, 
If  not,  when  you  have  stomachs". 

20.   Kor  the  verse,  see  I'rosody,  III.  §  3  (i). 

22.  other's.  Other  is  now  (i)  singular  only  when  defined  as  such 
by  some  other  word  (as  an,  the,  some,  &c. );  (2)  plural,  only  when 
used  attributively  ('other  men');  otherwise  others.  In  E.  E.  it  was 
both  singular  and  plural  without  either  limitation,  as  in  O.  E.  Cf. 
dn  tffter  ffirum  —  ' ons  after  (an)  other'. — Note  the  extravagance  of 
Mowbray's  wish,  the  sol>er  plainness  of  Holingbroke's.  Similarly, 
the  excited  vehemence  of  his  invective  (lines  57  f. )  and  Bolingbroke's 
measured  scorn  (lines  30  f.).  See  note  to  lines  25-61. 

24.  Add... crown,  add  the  title  of  immortality  to  that  of  kingship. 
This  use  of  the  adjective  is  very  common  in  E.  E. ;  cf.  "their  sterile 
curse"  — curse  of  sterility,  Julius  drsar,  i.  2.  9 ;  "aged  contusions" 
=  contusions  of  age,  2  Henry  VI.  v.  3.  3.  Kellner,  §  252. 

25  61.  BOLINGBROKE'S  OPENING  STATEMENT  AND  MOWBRAY'S 
REPLY.  Note  Bolingbroke's  quiet  confidence  and  Mowbray's 
excited  vehemence.  Bolingbroke,  though  throughout  respectful  to 
the  king,  relies  essentially  upon  the  confidence  of  the  people  which 
he  knows  that  he  possesses;  the  unpopular  Mowbray,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  forced  to  rely  on  Richard's  protection,  which  his  very  com- 
plicity in  the  death  of  Gloucester  renders  the  more  precarious. 
Hence  his  eager  and  confused  attempts  to  conciliate  him. 

26.  by  the  cause  you  come.     This  colloquial  omission  of  the 
preposition  is  only  found  where  it  can  be  easily  supplied.     Cf.   "To 
die  upon  the  bed  my  father  died",  Wintt-r's  Tale,  iv.  4.  465.     Come 
also  stands  for  'come  for'  in  "let  me  go  with  that  I  came",  Much 
Ado,  v.  2.  48. 

27.  appeal... of.     The  original  sense  of  'of  is  'from,  out  of; 
hence  it  points  out  the  (l)  source  of  an  action,  and  so  (2)  its  special 
yccasion  or  object.     Cf.  'accuse  of,  'acquit  of. 

28-9.  object  against.  'Objection'  and  'object 'in  E. E.  com- 
monly refer  to  a  direct,  and  often  as  here  a  criminal,  charge. 

32.  Tendering,  holding  tender.     See  Glossary.     The  verb  also 
meant,  as  now,   to  stretch  forth,  offer  (L.  tendere,   F.  tendre),  and 
Shakespeare  is  fond  of  punning  on  the  two  senses,  as  in  Hamlet,  i.  3. 
107,  "  Tender  yourself  more  dearly". 

33.  other  misbegotten   hate,  base  personal  animosity   distin- 
guished from  the  noble  hatred  which  a  devoted  subject  necessarily 
feels  for  a  traitor. 

36.  greeting.  The  original  meaning  of  the  won  I  is  probably  'to 
address,  accost,'  hence  it  may  be  used  of  either  ftitnaly  or  hostilt 


Scene  i.l  NOTES.  113 

speech.  The  latter  is  rarer,  but  is  very  old ;  it  is  found  in  O.  H.  G. 
and  O.  E.  (e.g.  grete^  gra/ne  feondas,  "he  shall  speak  to  his  fierce 
foes",  Psalm  cxvi.);  cf.  Henry  V.  Hi.  5.  37,  "greet  England  with 
our  sharp  defiance". 

37.  I.e.  'I  shall  either  be  victorious,  and  thus  prove  my  accusation, 
or  be  slain,  and  answer  for  its  justice  before  God '. 

40.  Too  good,  i.e.  by  the  inherited  quality  of  rank.  See  note 
to  lines  41-2. 

41-2.  A  couplet  of  lyrical  turn  characteristic  of  the  young  Shake- 
speare. The  thought  resembles  the  saying  corruptio  optimi  pessima, 
'the  greater  the  excellence,  the  more  ruinous  its  decay';  but  Mow- 
bray's  rank  is  regarded  as  a  permanent  ground,  which  his  treason 
disfigures,  but  cannot  destroy. 

41-6.  Coleridge  has  noted  that  "  the  rhymes  in  the  last  six  lines 
well  express  the  preconcertedness  of  Bolingbroke's  scheme,  so  beau- 
tifully contrasted  with  the  vehemence  and  sincere  irritation  of  Mow- 
bray  ". 

43.  note,  stigma,  brand.     At  Rome  the  nota  was  the  technical 
term  for  the  official  and  public  reprehensions  of  private  persons  by 
the  Censor. 

The  aggravation  consists  merely  in  the  repetition  of  the  term 
traitor;  the  emphasis  is  therefore  upon  once  more. 

44.  stuff  I  thy  throat,  a  variation  of  the  metaphor  by  which  a 
man  is  said  to  swallow  an  insult. 

46.  right  drawn,  a  somewhat  harsh  elliptical  phrase  for  '  drawn 
in  the  right '. 

47.  accuse  my  zeal,  i.e.  cause  me  to  be  accused  of  want  of  zeal. 

48.  trial;  the  associations  of  the  trial  by  combat  still  clung  to  this 
word;  the  combat  of  'two  eager  tongues'  which  settles  a  women's 
quarrel  is  compared  to  the  judicial  battle  of  male  disputants. 

49.  eager,  sharp,  biting.     See  Glossary. 

58.  Note  the  perturbation  of  mind  which  is  marked  by  Mowbray's 
sudden  change  of  procedure  here.  He  began  by  pleading  that  the 
royal  blood  of  Bolingbroke  prohibited  him  from  retorting  the  accusa- 
tion of  treason;  now,  he  professes  to  speak  as  if  Bolingbroke  were 
not  royal,  yet  still  does  not  venture  to  call  him  'traitor',  only  '  coward ' 
and  'villain'. — Compare  i  Henry  IV.  iii.  3.  138  (the  Hostess  to  Fal- 
staff),  "  setting  thy  knighthood  aside,  thoti  art  a  knave  to  call  me  so". 

61.  Note  how  the  suspense  is  kept  up  by  the  vagueness  of  the 
terms  applied  by  Bolingbroke  and  Mowbray  to  each  other. 

63.  tied,  obliged,  bound. 

65.  inhabitable,  uninhabitable.  But  'inhabit 'and  'uninhabit- 
able' (Tempest^  ii.  I.  37)  were  used  by  Shakespeare  in  their  modern 


H4  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  I. 

senses.     The  ambiguity  of  the  word  drove   it   out  of  use,  while 
'habitable'  is  retained. 

69.  Bulingbroke  here  throws  down  his  glove  or  gauntlet. 

70.  Note  the  concealed  irony  wUh  which  Bolingbrokc  thus  de- 
taches himself  from  the  'kindred  of  the  king',  whom  he  is  presently 
to  dethrone;  and  the  cunning  with  which  Mowbray  in   his  reply 
(line  78)  indirectly  appeals  to  the  king,  in  swearing  by  the  sword  which 
knighted  him. 

74.  mine  honour's  pawn,  i.e.  the  ' gage'  of  v.  69. 

77.  Bolingbroke  with  careless  insolence  declares  himself  ready  to 
prove  in  arms  that  any  insulting  charge  that  Mowbray  can  suggest 
is  true  of  him. 

80- 1.  I  '11  answer  thee... trial,  I  will  answer  the  charge  to  any 
extent  within  the  limits  of  fairness,  i.e.  of  what  the  code  of  chivalry 
authorizes  in  proposals  of  trial  by  combat. 

83.  unjustly  fight,  i.e.  if  my  assertion  of  innocence  is  false. 

85.  inherit,  as  commonly  =' possess',  and  like  it  may  have  as 
object  either  the  thing  possessed,  or,  as  here,  the  person  fitt  in  fosses- 
sion  of  a  thing.  See  Glossary. 

87-108.  Here  at  length  the  basis  of  the  quarrel  is  disclosed.  Bol- 
ingbroke indicts  Mowbray  on  three  separate  charges.  The  first  two 
are  referred  to  in  matter-of-fact  language  and  rapidly  dismissed, 
while  the  speaker  kindles  into  passion  as  he  describes  the  third,  in 
which  the  true  culprit  is  Richard  himself.  The  terrible  words 
"which  blood",  &c.,  foreshadow  the  vengeance  about  to  be  taken 
upon  that  blood-guilt.  Richard  visibly  quails  (v.  109),  and  in  his 
dignified  profession  of  impartiality  (115-123)  cannot  quite  conceal 
his  resentment.  Yet  the  story  of  Gloucester's  murder  is  throughout 
the  play  only  hinted  at,  never  told.  "The  guilt  is,  as  usual  in 
Shakespeare,  faintly  sketched  in  comparison  with  its  pimisknifnt." 
(Ludwig,  p.  39.)  On  the  departure  from  history  here  see  above 
note  to  BOLI.NI;BROKE. 

88.  The  noble  was  =  2O  groats,  or  6s.  &/. 

89.  tendings,  i.e.   money  intrusted  to  him  in  order  to  be  dis- 
bursed to  the  army. 

97.  head  and  spring,  synonymous  expressions  for  origin.  Cf. 
'fountain-head'.  For  the  combination  cf.  Langland,  flffrt  f/ffwrnan, 
Passus  i.  162,  "  in  J>e  herte  here  is  J>e  heuede  and  pe  heiyje  welle"- 
i.e.  in  the  heart  is  the  head  and  spring  [of  love]. 

99.  The  line  is  introduced  for  the  sake  of  the  antithesis  bad.. .good, 
and  expands  the  simple  phrase. 

maintain;  '  I  will  so  maintain  as  to,'  &C. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  115 

100.  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  sixth  (or  seventh)  son  of  Edward  III., 
died  Sept.  1397.     See  Mow  BRAY,  above. 

101.  Suggest,  prompt,  incite;  generally  in  a  bad  sense,  and  used 
either  of  the  person  incited  or  as  in  Md.  E.  of  that  which  he  is 
incited  to  do.     See  Glossary. 

102.  consequently,  in  Shakespeare  rather  of  what  follows  in 
time  than  of  what  is  inferred. 

105.  tongueless,  as  not  having  articulate  speech,  only  voice, 
resonance. 

109.  pitch,  height;  a  technical  term  in  falcony  for  the  height  to 
which  the  falcon  soars  before  it  stoops  upon  its  prey.  (Nares.) 

113.  'This  reproach  to  his  (Bolingbroke's)  kindred,  and  therefore 
to  the  king.'  A  further  appeal  to  Richard  to  wipe  out  the  reproach. 

117.  "  Note. ..the  affected  depreciation  of  this  verse."  (Coleridge.) 
A  more  extreme  instance  of  this  is  Hamlet's  bitter  apostrophe  to  his 
mother:  "  You  are  the  queen,  your  husband's  brother's  wife",  Ham- 
let, Hi.  4.  15. 

118.  my  sceptre's  awe,  the  fear  felt  for,  and  so  inspired  by,  my 
sceptre.     The  objective  genitive  with  fear,  awe,  was  very  common 
from  O.  E.  onwards,  and  was  not  obsolete  in  the  i6th  century.     In 
O.  E.  we  have  e.g.  "pines  yrres  egesa",  Psalm  Ixxxvii.  16,  ;the  fear 
of  thy  wrath'.      So  even  in  Gorboduc  (1563),  "with  aged  fathers 
awe"='  with  awe  of  aged  father'. 

1 19.  neighbour.     Adjectives  are  freely  used  as  nouns  in  Eliza- 
bethan syntax.     Cf.  Kellner,  §  236. 

120-21.  Note  how  the  dignity  of  this  statement  is  enhanced  by 
the  repetition  of  parallel  terms,  nor  partialize — unstooping — up- 
right. The  rare  and  pedantic  word  partialize  does  not  occur  elsewhere 
in  Shakespeare;  it  is  in  keeping  with  the  somewhat  unreal  magnilo- 
quence of  this  speech. 

124-151.  Movvbray's  reply  answers  conclusively  the  first  of  Boling- 
broke's charges,  properly  ignores  the  second,  briefly  and  ambiguously 
denies  the  third  and  most  essential,  and  pleads  guilty  only  to  a  single 
treacherous  design  which  the  subject  of  it  has  already  condoned.  On 
Shakespeare's  divergence  from  Holinshed  here  see  Introduction,  §  9. 

124-5.  as  l°w  as  to  thy  heart... thou  liest,  a  heightened  varia- 
tion on  the  common  formula  'thou  liest  in  thy  throat'.  Cf.  h'ne  44. 

126.  receipt,  the  sum  received  (L.  receptutri),  not  as  now  the  form 
certifying  it  as  received.  So  conceit  meant  in  E.  E.  (see  Glossary) 
the  thing  conceived,  'notion',  'idea'.  The/  was  introduced  in  the 
i6th  century  to  indicate  the  etymology. 

130.  dear,  large.  Mowbray  had  escorted  Richard's  second  queen, 
daughter  of  Charles  VI.  of  France,  on  her  marriage  in  1396.  The 


116  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  L 

word  dear  is  regularly  used  in  E.  E.  for  what  is  extreme  of  its  kind. 
"  My  dearest  foe" -'my  most  hostile  (i.e.  bitterest)  foe*. 

132-4.  Mowbray  admits  only  negligence;  meaning  to  imply,  pro- 
bably, that,  as  governor  of  Calais,  where  Gloucester  was  confined,  he 
hail  guarded  his  prisoner  with  insufficient  care,  leaving  it  to  l>e  in- 
ferred that  he  would  have  prevented  the  murder  had  he  been  able. 
This  defence  covers  Mowbray  only  by  exposing  Richard ;  for  the 
further  question  becomes  inevitable,  'Who,  then,  ordered  his  death?1 
This  Richard  feels:  hence  his  eagerness,  shown  in  the  next  speech,  to 
end  the  quarrel  by  whatever  means. 

140.  exactly,  formally,  explicitly,  in  set  terms:  see  Glossary. 

144.  recreant  and. ..degenerate,  false  to  his  Christian  faith  and 
to  his  noble  rank. 

146.  interchangeably,  regularly  used  by  Shakespeare  in  the  sense 
of  '  mutually ',  as  at  v.  2.  98  of  this  play,  the  termination  -able,  -ably 
being  loosely  treated. 

Here  the  word  is  still  more  loosely  used,  as  if  the  subject  of  'hurl' 
were  both  combatants  instead  of  Mowbray  alone:  the  inexactness 
marks  his  excited  vehemence. 

152-9.  Richard's  motive  in  thus  cutting  short  the  discussion  has 
been  noticed.  Note  the  characteristic  levity  of  tone  with  which  he 
urges  the  disputants  to  '  forget  and  forgive '  insults  which  the  ethical 
code  of  the  time  absolutely  forbade  them  to  condone.  With  all  his 
instinct  for  outward  dignity,  Richard  hardly  comprehends  the  chival- 
rous sense  of  honour.  His  action  here  prepares  us  for  the  crisis  of 
scene  3. 

153.  purge  this  choler,  remove  this  wrath  from  the  system. 
Choler  was  attributed  to  an  excess  of  bile  (Gr.  x^Xoj),  one  of  the  four 
'humours'  or  essential  fluids  of  the  body  (bile,  black-bile,  phlegm, 
and  blood).  It  was  thus  relieved  when  the  excess  was  drawn  off  by 
medical  remedies.  So  Hamlet,  when  Guildensteni  informs  him  that 
the  king  is  'distempered  with  choler',  retorts:  "Your  wisdom  should 
show  itself  more  richer  to  signify  this  to  his  doctor;  for,  for  me  to 
put  him  to  his  purgation  would  perhaps  plunge  him  into  far  more 
choler",  Hamlet,  lii.  2.  316. 

157.  "It  was  customary  with  our  fathers  to  be  bled  periodically, 
in  spring  and  in  autumn."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

160.  make-peace.  This  word,  not  found  elsewhere  in  Shake- 
speare, belongs  to  a  colloquial  and  energetic  type  of  compound  (im- 
perative and  object)  which  first  occurs  in  English  nfter  the  Conquest, 
and  was  probably  stimulated  by  the  influence  of  French,  where  it  is 
particularly  frequent:  cf.  'curfew'  (couvre-fat),  'kerchief  (coin-.-e- 
chef),  'turnkey',  'lickspit',  &c. ;  and  in  the  proper  names  Taillf-fet 
Tattle-bout  fTalhot). 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  117 

160.  shall,  must  needs;  the  original  force  of  the  word  ('is  due') 
being  applied  to  a  proposition  which  is  bound  to  be  true,  not  as  in 
Md. E.  you  shall,  &c.,  to  an  act  which  'you'  are  bound  to  perform. 

163.  Gaunt  is  prone  to  epigram  and  verbal  witticism  even  in  his 
gravest  moods.     Cf.  i.  2.  3-4;  3.  80;  ii.  I.  31-2,  73  f.,  86-7;  106-7; 
112,  135,  and  (his  very  last  words)  138.     See  note  to  ii.  I.  84. 

164.  no  boot,  no  help. 

166.  Observe  that  command  is  used  in  slightly  different  shades  of 
meaning  with  life  and  shame.  [Distinguish  these.] 

1 68.  An  inversion  due  to  rhyme:  '  my  fair  name  which  will  survive 
my  death'. 

170.  impeach'd  and  baffled.  Both  terms  carry  further  the 
suggestion  of  the  preceding  word:  the  first  referring  to  the  'disgrace' 
of  apparently  deserved  reproach  ;  the  second,  a  still  more  humiliating 
term,  to  that  of  being  treated  as  a  coward.  '  Baffling '  was  originally 
a  North-country  term  for  hanging  a  recreant  knight  by  the  heels. 
Note  that  impeach  in  E.  E.  is  used  (i)  of  other  than  judicial  accusa- 
tion, (2)  especially  where  the  accusation  is  regarded  by  the  speaker 
as  either  just  or  plausible,  e.g.  "  You  do  impeach  your  modesty  too 
much,  to  leave  the  city",  Midsummer  Nights  Dream,  ii.  I.  214. 
Cf.  line  189:  and  see  Glossary. 

172.  The  which.  Notice  the  freedom  of  E.  E.  in  making  a  relative 
refer  not  to  any  specific  antecedent  but  to  the  whole  situation  de- 
scribed in  the  words  which  precede  it. 

174.  lions,  &c.  Cf.  Marlowe,  Ed-ward  IT.,  ed.  Dyce,  p.  198, 
"Shall  the  crowing  of  these  cockerels  affright  a  lion?  Edward,  un- 
fold thy  paws,  &c.,"  where  the  cockerels  are  his  rebellious  barons. 

180-1.  Mowbray  here  unconsciously  shifts  his  ground,  identifying 
'boldness'  of  spirit  and  'spotless  reputation  for  boldness'.  But  the 
ethical  code  of  chivalry  regarded  both  as  involved  in  knightly  honour. 

186.  Richard's  kingliness  of  speech  cannot  disguise  his  boyish 
inability  to  control  strong  wills.  His  command  ("give  me  his  gage") 
has  not  been  obeyed,  the  'leopard'  is  not  yet  'tame';  but  perhaps 
the  other  combatant  will  be  more  compliant ;  he  will  try.  Note  the 
greater  deference  for  Bolingbroke  implied  in  the  form  of  command. 

187-195.  Contrast  Mowbray's  pleading  entreaty  with  Bolingbroke's 
peremptory  refusal.  The  latter  disdains  to  argue;  he  opposes  to  the 
king's  command  no  plausible  generalities  (such  as  lines  177-181), 
merely  his  own  invincible  repugnance. 

190.  out-dared.  The  prefix  (cf.  '  out-pray ',  v.  3.  109)  out-  be- 
fore verbs  in  E.  E.  fluctuates  between  two  shades  of  meaning  both 
found  in  the  simple  out;  viz.  (i)  outside,  beyond,  (2)  to  an  end,  to 
ruin  (e.g.  'burn  out').  Hence  these  compound  verbs  may  mean  (i) 
to  excel  in,  (2)  to  defeat  or  destroy  by,  the  action  of  the  simple  verb. 


<l8  KINC;    RICHARD   II.  [Act  I. 

For  (I)  (the  commoner  sense)  cf.  to  'out-herou"  (i.e.  to  rant  more  than 
Herod  rants),  'out-sweeten'  ("the  leaf  of  eglantine...  Out-sweetened 
not  thy  breath",  Cymbeltur,  iv.  224),  'outlive',  'out-grow',  &c. ;  for 
(2)  ' to  outlook  (conquest)',  King  John,  v.  2.  115,  'outface'  (put  out 
of  countenance),  'outfrown'  (frown  down),  &c.  Shakespeare's  use 
of  outdart  is  coloured  by  both  senses ;  by  (i)  in  Coriolantis,  i.  4.  53, 
"  outdares  his  senseless  sword";  by  (2)  here,  the  word  dastard  show- 
ing that  Bolingbroke  means  to  represent  Mowbray  as  not  merely 
'  excelled  in  daring '  but  dared  damn,  towed. 

191 .  feeble  wrong,  an  in j dry  implying  feebleness  in  the  man  who 
submits  to  it.     The  exact  point  of  this  in  itself  obscure  phrase,  is 
brought  out  by  the  following  ' base'...' slavish '.     It  is  characteristic 
of  the  boldness  and  freedom  of  Elizabethan  style  to  make  the  entire 
sentence  the  clue  to  the  exact  meaning  of  each  part. 

192.  sound  a  parle,  i.e.  make  overtures  of  peace. 

193.  the   slavish... fear,  i.e.    the  tongue,  which   in  submitting 
would  become  the  instrument  of  recanting  fear. 

motive  in  E.  E.  =  that  by  which  anything  is  moved  ;  hence  (i) 
as  now,  an  impulse  which  moves  the  will;  (2)  the  instrument  of  any 
other  action. 

194.  in  his  high  disgrace,  i.e.  the  tongue's,  ignominiously  pun- 
ished as  it  is. 

196-205.  Note  that  this  speech  is  (i)  unhistorical  (the  ground  of 
the  resort  to  combat  having  been  the  absence  of  independent  evidence); 
but  (2)  even  more  characteristic  of  Richard  than  history  itself,  in  its 
combination  of  arrogance  and  weakness,  of  outward  dignity  and  inner 
want  of  stamina.  As  in  line  186,  he  accepts  his  defeat  with  an  imposing 
air  of  controlling  the  issue  which  deceives  no  one.  In  studying  the 
close  of  a  Shakespearian  scene  the  reader  should  bear  in  mind,  once 
for  all,  that  "a  drama  of  Shakespeare  is  a  continual  preparation  for 
the  catastrophe,  and  thus  each  scene  has  its  own  minor  catastrophe 
towards  which  the  preceding  dialogue  leads  up".  (Ludwig.) 

202.  atone,  as  usual,  'bring  together',  'cause  to  agree'. 

202-3.  we  shall  see,  &c.  'We  are  resolved  to  see  Justice  point 
out  the  winner  in  the  combat-at-arms,'  i.e.  to  see  a  fight  in  which 
whoever  wins  will  justly  win.  'Justice'  is  conceived  as  the  marshal 
who  announces  the  victor, — a  figurative  way  of  saying  that  the  victor 
has  the  sanction  of  justice. 

204.  Shakespeare  probably  wrote  marshal,  not  '  lord  marshal', 
thus  producing  a  regular  verse.  This  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that 
nowhere  else  in  Shakespeare  does  a  king  address  a  marshal  by  the 
title  lord.  The  term  denoted  two  distinct  functionaries,  (ij  the 
presiding  officer  of  a  tournament  or  combat  (usually  two  syllables; 
a  trisyllable  in  /  Henry  /I',  iv.  4.  2),  (2)  the  general-in-chief  of 
France  (always  three  syllables  =  marshal).  Abbott's  suggestion 
(§  4$9)  'hat  it  is  a  monosyllable  here  is  untenable. 


Scene  2.] 


NOTES. 


119 


Scene  2. 

This  scene  is  essentially  Shakespeare's  invention.  He  found  in 
Holinshed  merely  the  fact  that  Gaunt  was  convinced  of  Richard's 
participation  in  Gloucester's  murder.  The  scene  serves  three  distinct 
purposes,  (i)  Interposed  between  the  two  phases  of  the  quarrel 
of  Bolingbroke  and  Mowbray,  it  covers  the  intervening  time  and,  in 
part,  the  change  of  place;  (in  part  only,  because  Gaunt,  who  appears 
in  this  scene,  is  found  in  the  beginning  of  the  next  at  Coventry).  (2) 
It  supplies  contrast,  —  the  stately  and  ceremonious  passions  of  chivalry 
(scenes  I  and  3)  being  interrupted  by  this  picture  of  a  woman's  in- 
timate and  heart-felt  grief.  (3)  It  forces  into  prominence  as  an  un- 
doubted fact  Richard's  participation  in  the  death  of  Gloucester,  thus 
giving  the  key  to  Bolingbroke's  conduct  in  this  first  act,  and  fore- 
shadowing the  Nemesis  of  which  he  is  to  be  the  means. 

i.  'The  fact  that  Gloucester  (Thomas  of  Woodstock)  was  my 
brother.' — Gaunt,  the  embodiment  of  reverence  for  the  authority  of 
the  state,  has  suffered,  with  its  connivance,  a  wrong,  which  he  steadily 
refuses  to  revenge.  Note  how  this  profound  loyalty  to  kingship  is 
one  condition  of  the  passion  with  which  he,  later,  indicts  the  king. 

4.  Designedly  vague.  The  king,  whose  office  is  to  punish  the 
crime,  is  himself  a  criminal. 

6,7.  heaven. ..they.  Shakespeare  commonly  uses  heaven  as  plural. 

9-36.  The  Duchess's  appeal  becomes  gradually  more  personal  and 
direct,  passing  from  the  plea  of  kinship  to  that  of  peril  to  life  and 
honour — the  transition  being  formed  by  the  impassioned  lines  (22-5). 
[Indicate  the  nature  of  the  transition.]  On  the  last  couplet  see  note 
to  lines  35-6. 

o.  '  Does  the  claim  made  in  the  name  of  brotherhood  meet,  in  you, 
with  no  keener  prompting  to  carry  it  out?' 

15.  This  line  simply  repeats  the  previous  one  under  a  new  image, 
the  reference  in  both  cases  being  to  natural  death.  Four  of  the  seven 
were  at  this  time  dead,  besides  Gloucester:  viz.  Edward  the  Black 
Prince,  William  of  Hatfield,  William  of  Windsor,  and  Lionel  of 
Antwerp.  (Clar.  Pr.  edd.)  For  the  thought,  compare  the  closing 
chorus  of  Marlowe's  Doctor  Faiistus: — "Cut  is  the  branch  that 
might  have  grown  full  straight ". 

23.  self  often,  as  here,  retains  its  common  O.  E.  use  as  an  adjective 
=  'same'.  It  should  therefore  not  be  written  with  a  hyphen.  For 
this  use  of  mould  cf.  Coriolanus,  v.  3.  22,  "the  honour'd  mould 
wherein  this  trunk  was  framed". 

28.  model  in  E.E.  fluctuates  between  two  easily  distinguishable 
senses:  (i)  the  pattern  or  mould;  (2)  the  image  or  counterpart  made 
after  the  pattern  (as  here). 

29.  despair,  i.e.  a  course  only  natural  to  one  in  despair. 


iao  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  I. 

35-6.  The  Duchess  fin  1m;;  G.mnt  unmoved,  makes  a  last  despe- 
rate effort,  by  repeating  the  most  purely  personal  and  selfish  of  her 
arguments  in  the  bluntest  and  most  prosaic  form.  Note  the  suddci 
droo  of  style. 

37-41.  Gaunt  repeats  in  more  explicit  terms  the  answer  he  had 
already  by  anticipation  given  (1-8)  to  the  argument  from  kinship: 
the  appeal  to  his  fears  he  loftily  ignores. 

44.  For  the  verse  see  Prosody,  III.  §  3. 

46.  cousin,  as  usual,  covers  the  modern  terms  uncle  and  nephew, 
as  well  as  cousin.  On  the  Duchess's  actual  relationship  to  Hereford 
see  note  to  Dramatis  Persona-,  No.  23. 

49.   misfortune,  i.e.  to  Mowbray. 

career,  properly  a  roadway,  hence  '  a  place  for  horses  to  run  in', 
and  so  'their  ..running,  or  full  speed  therein1.  (Cotgrave.)  Hence 
used  technically  of  the  charge  in  a  tournament  or  combat. 

53.  a  caitiff  recreant,  a  false  and  cowardly  captive  (to  Holing- 
broke).  Both  words  belonged  to  the  technical  language  of  chivalry. 
See  Glossary. 

55.  With  this  close  compare  Constance's  "Here  I  and  sorrows  sit ", 
king  John,  iii.  I.  73.  This  portrait  of  the  Duchess  is  probably  earlier 
than  that  of  Constance,  its  more  elaborate  and  intense  counterpart. 
Note  that  both,  as  helpless  widows,  appeal — in  vain — for  redress  of 
a  wrong  wrought  by  the  king. 

58-74.  Note  the  contrast  between  this  speech  of  hopeless  resigna- 
tion, with  its  broken  movement,  its  abrupt  turns  and  starts,  its  half 
articulate  pauses— and  the  eloquent  swing  of  the  verse  in  hei  first 
speech,  where  she  is  still  eager  and  hopeful.  "  One  might  say  that 
Shakspere's  principal  means  of  producing  lifelike,  natural  and 
weighty  dialogue  is  parenthesis ..  .for  there  continually  intervene  be- 
tween question  and  answer  ..one  or  more  sentences  or  phrases  which 
are  of  the  nature  of  parenthesis,  though  not  marked  with  brackets." 
(Ludwig.) 

58-9.  She  compares  the  incessant  iteration  of  grief  to  the  rebound 
of  an  elastic  ball,  where,  however,  weight,  not  lightness,  causes  the 
rebound.  The  image  loses  something  of  its  aptness  by  the  addition 
of  the  second  line,  but  she  may  be  thinking  of  the  greater  difficulty 
of  checking  a  heavy  body  caused  by  its  greater  momentum. 

66.  Plashy,  "near  Dunmow  in  Essex,  where  Gloucester  had  a 
seat,  in  virtue  of  his  office  as  High  Constable."  (Clar.  Pr.  edd.) 

68.   unfurnish'd  walls,  i.e.  not  hung  with  arras,  as  was  usual. 

Scene  3. 

The  historical  event  occurred  on  Sept.  16,  1398,— five  months  after 
the  events  of  scene  I. — The  ceremonious  splendour  of  chivalry  is 
here  displayed  with  congenial  care.  "The  soul  of  Shakespeare, 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  121 

certainly,  was  not  wanting  in  a  sense  of  the  magnanimity  of  warriors. 
The  grandiose  aspects  uf  war,  its  magnificent  apparelling,  he  records 
monumentally  enough — the  '  dressing  of  the  lists',  the  lion's  heart,  its 
unfaltering  haste  thither  in  all  the  freshness  of  youth  and  morning. 
'Not  sick  although  I  have  to  do  with  death.'  Only  with  Shake- 
speare the  after-thought  is  immediate :  '  They  come  like  sacrifices  in 
their  trim'.  [/  Henry  IV.  i.  118]."  (Pater.) 

3.  sprightfully  and  bold.  E.E.  uses  adj.  with  great  freedom 
as  adv. ;  but  as  Shakespeare  always  elsewhere  uses  bold  as  the  adj. 
and  boldly  as  the  adv.,  we  must  explain  this  case  by  the  idiom  of 
the  extended  suffix  (Abbott,  §  397). 

7-41.  Note  how  in  these  purely  ceremonious  speeches  the  requisite 
identity  of  procedure  in  the  case  of  each  champion  is  preserved,  while 
yet,  by  a  succession  of  delicate  touches,  the  speeches  are  rendered 
literary,  and  thus  prepare  for  the  poetry  and  passion  of  the  sequel. 

18.  God  defend.  The  verb  was  current  in  E.  E.  in  two  distinct 
senses,  (i)  guard  (as  now),  (2)  forbid  (as  here),  but  in  the  latter  sense 
only  when  joined  with  God  or  heaven.  Both  are  traceable  to  the  Lat. 
dcfendere,  which  in  different  constructions  could  mean  to  guard  and 
to  ward  off. 

20.  my  succeeding  issue.  "Norfolk's  issue  would  be  involved 
in  the  forfeiture  incurred  by  disloyalty  to  his  king."  (Camb.  Shak- 
spere.)  This,  however,  hardly  explains  how  Norfolk  can  be  said  to  be 
loyal  to  his  own  issue,  and  the  reading  of  the  Folios  his  siicceeding 
issue  is  probably  right.  The  my  could  easily  arise  from  the  two  pre- 
ceding instances  of  it.  It  is  beside  the  point  that  Richard  had  not 
then  (and  in  fact  never  had)  issue;  the  contrary  was  to  be  presumed. 

30.  depose  him  corresponds  to  'swear  him'  in  the  parallel  pas- 
sage (line  10) ;  'take  his  solemn  deposition'  (i.e.  that  he  appears  in 
a  just  cause). 

46.  For  design  used  with  special  reference  to  the  combat  cf.  i.  8r 
above. 

48-51.  An  example  of  that  kind  of  irony,  familiar  in  Greek  tragedy, 
in  which  the  speaker  innocently  uses  words  which  foreshadow  an 
impending  destiny.  Bolingbroke  unconsciously  foretells  his  own  and 
Mowbray's  exile. 

55-6.  The  king's  wish  is  conveyed  with  studied  but  unobtrusive 
ambiguity.  He  knows,  and  knows  that  Bolingbroke  knows,  that  the 
latter  is  attacking  him,  as  Gloucester's  murderer,  through  Mowbray. 
Hence  the  clause  '  as  your  cause  is  right',  which  bears  the  covert 
meaning  'as  far  as'.  To  Mowbray,  on  the  other  hand,  his  parting 
wish  is  conspicuously  cold  and  brief.  He  again  betrays  the  "percep- 
tion which  determines  his  action  throughout,  that  the  victory  of 
either  would  be  perilous  to  him.  Note  the  slightness  and  formality 
of  Bolingbroke' s  farewell  to  him  in  line  63. 


122  KING    RICHARD   I!.  [Act  1. 

59  f.  Note  how,  at  the  close  of  the  preliminary  forms,  the  verse 
rises  without  effort  into  poetry,  and  yet  produces  no  sense  of  dis- 
crepancy, M)  skilful  has  been  the  procedure  described  above  (note 
7-4')- 

66.  cheerly,  cheerily. 

67-77.  The  affectionate  intimacy  between  Bolingbroke  and  his 
father  is  finely  hinted  in  this  speech,  which  prepares  us  for  the  more 
detailed  portrayal  at  the  close  of  the  scene.  Note  the  grandeur  with 
which  Shakespeare  conceives  the  bond  of  kinship.  NVe  have  seen 
that  he  expressly  emphasizes  Richard's  violation  of  it,  as  the  head  of 
his  offence,  l^ater  on,  he  was  to  work  out  the  personal  tragedy  of 
violated  kinship  with  incomparable  power  in  King  Ltar :  in  this 
earlier  period  of  the  patriotic  Histories  he  is  interested  in  it  rather  at 
affecting  the  fortunes  of  his  country. 

67-8.  A  reference  to  the  elaborate  confectionery  which  commonly 
ended  a  banquet  in  England,  and  formed  a  kind  of  tour-dt-torce  of 
the  cook's  skill,  not  merely  in  cookery  proper  but  in  modelling  and 
carving.  The  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  compare  Bacon's  Life  and  Jitters,  ed. 
Spedding,  iii.  315,  note:  "Let  not  this  Parliament  end,  like  a  Dutch 
feast,  in  salt  meats,  but,  like  an  English  feast,  in  sweet  meats". 

67.  regreet.  See  note  on  greeting,  i.  36  above.     The  prefix  re- 
had,  as  now,  in  some  cases  (I)  its  proper  force  (back,  again);  in  others 
the  word  compounded  with  it  either  (2)  does  not  appreciably  differ  in 
meaning  from  the  simple  word,  or  (3)  differs  in  a  way  not  directly 
derivable  from  the  sense  of  re-.     Cf.  for  (l)  re-diift  =  \.o  bring  back, 
for  (2)  the  present  instance,  for  (3)  redoubted.     The  force  of  re-  is 
naturally  as  a  rule  least  persistent  where  the  simple  verb  did  not  exist 
in  English  at  all.     In  line  142  the  prefix  of  re-greet  has  its  full  force. 

72.  A  picturesque  expansion  of  the  image  implied  in  '  high  achieve- 
ment', 'lofty  triumph',  &c.  Mr.  Deighton  compares  /  Henry  IV. 
i.  3.  202,  "to  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon". 

75.  waxen  coat;  the  adjective  is  proleptic;  i.e.  the  coat  of  mail 
is  compared  to  wax,  not  because  softness  is  its  standing  quality,  but 
because  it  will  yield  like  wax  at  the  touch  of  the  spear-point  'steeled' 
by  the  blessings  of  Gaunt. 

76.  furbish,  one  of  the  words,  now  only  in  colloquial  use,  which 
Shakespeare  could  use  for  high  poetry. 

John  a  Gaunt.  The  unemphatic  of  between  two  highly 
stressed  syllables  easily  passes  to  o  or  a.  Cf.  "John-a-dreams", 
Hamlet,  ii.  2.  595. 

77.  Even.     This  word,  among  the  most  important  and  subtle  of 
Elizabethan  particles,  is  often  introduced  in  recurring  to  an  obvious 
fact  (previously  referred  to,  or  forming  a  part  of  the  dramatic  situa- 
tion),   which  explains  a  bold  or  figurative  thought  just  expressed. 
Cf.  with  this  passage  Aferehant  of  Venice,  ii.  6.  44  (Lorenzo  to  the 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  123 

disguised  Jessica),  "  So  you  are  (obscured),  Even  in  the  lovely  gar- 
nish of  a  boy".     Also  As  You  Like  It,  ii.  *j.  57. 

80.  redoubled  (four  syllables).    The  syllabic  /and  r  (before  a  vowel 
forming  another  syllable)   belongs  mainly  to  Shakespeare's  youth, 
and  is  still  commoner  in  Marlowe.     Contrast  the  scansion  of  Macbeth, 
i.  2.  28,   "Doubly  redoubled  strokes  upon  the  foe". 

81.  amazing,  producing  confusion  and  ruin.     The  word  maze  in 
M.  E.  had  often  the  sense  of  disaster  as  well  as  that  of  mere  disturb- 
ance.    Cf.  Piers  Plowman,  iii.   159,  where  it  is  said  that  Bribery 
produces  l  the  mase'  for  a  poor  man  by  putting  him  in  the  power  of 
rich  oppressors. 

casque,  helmet. 

84.  Bolingbroke  invokes  his  innocence  as  being,  like  the  help  of  the 
saint,  the  best  guarantee  of  his  success.  The  implied  verb  upon 
which  'to  thrive'  (  —  for  succeeding)  depends,  is  equivalent  to  'I  rely 
upon'. 

85  f.  Mowbray's  comparative  isolation  is  here  symbolized.  He 
has  little  leave-taking  to  do,  for  no  one  present  is  his  good  friend ; 
and  the  emotion  which  glows  through  his  speech  is  purely  personal. 

90.  uncontroll'd  enfranchisement,  i.e.  'enfranchisement  which 
consists  in  being  uncontrolled'. — Mowbray's  enthusiasm  makes  him 
tautologous.     For  this  use  of  an  adj.  —  the  genitive  of  a  subst.  cf. 
Kellner,  §252.     So,  in  line  241  below,  "  a  partial  slander";  ii.  3.  79, 
"  absent  time". 

91.  Compare  Aufidius'  eager  welcome  of  the  banished  Coriolanus: 
"  That  I  see  thee  here  Thou  noble  thing !   more  dances  my  glad 
heart... Than  when  I  first  my  wedded  mistress  saw  Bestride  my  thresh- 
old", Coriolanus,  iv.  5.  122. 

95.  jest,  in  E.  E.,  includes  whatever  is  done  in  sport,  or  as  a  part 
of  a  game.  So  Hamlet  ironically  reminds  the  king  that  the  players 
'do  but  poison  in  jest'.  Hence  probably  Mowbray  contrasts  the 
sham-fight  with  the  actual  fight  before  him.  For  the  thought,  cf.  Ham- 
let's wondering  description  of  Fortinbras'  men  who  "for  a  fantasy 
and  trick  of  fame  Go  to  their  graves  like  beds",  Hamlet,  iv.  4.  61. 

1 18.  For  the  verse  see  Prosody,  II.  §  2  (iv).  "  Well,  give  her  that 
ring  and  therewithal,"  Two  Gentlemen,  iv.  4.  81. 

warder,  the  staff  or  truncheon  borne  by  the  king  as  presiding 
over  the  combat. 

122.  The  'long  flourish'  represents  the  actual  two-hours'  interval 
during  which  the  king  and  his  council  deliberated,  while  the  two 
mounted  combatants  sat  motionless  face  to  face.  The  shortness  of 
the  interval  of  deliberation,  contrasted  with  the  elaborate  formalities 
which  have  just  been  observed,  makes  the  king's  final  action  more 
apparently  arbitrary,  and  thus  more  characteristic. 


124  KIN'C;    RICHARD   II.  [Act  1. 

124  f.  Richard's  speech  bases  the  sentence  he  is  about  to  declare 
upon  the  plausible  ground  that  the  quarrel  of  two  such  men  involves 
the  risk  of  civil  war;  but  the  picturesque  incoherence  of  his  language 
betrays  how  little  this  expresses  of  his  true  motive.  Cf.  especially 
the  luxuriant  but  quite  indistinct  imagery  of  lines  132-7. 

125.  For  originally,  and  in  O.  E.  almost  alwa\s,  referred  to  the 
cause  or  ground  ( =  because  of)  ;  hence,  in  the  case  of  delil>erate 
action  it  came  later  to  indicate  the  purpose  by  which  such  action  is 
caused.  In  E. E.  it  has  this  latter  sense  when  the  future  is  referred 
to,  the  former  when  the  present  or  the  past.  Note  that  since  should 
can  be  cither  a  present  (=iftoef)  or  a  future  (viewed  from  the  past), 
the  words  for  that...  should  not  might  theoretically  mean  either  ania 
non  debet  esse  or  ne  esset.  In  E.  E.,  however,  should— debel  is  com- 
paratively rare,  and  in  connection  withy&r  or  /or  that  probably  un- 
known. 

127.  aspect,  accented  aspect,  as  usual.     See  Prosody,  II.  §  2. 

134-7.  The  virtual  subject  of  line  137  is  'the  rousing  up  of  which 
(peace)'  implied  in  line  134;  the  disturbance  of  peace  by  \vailike 
sounds  may  banish  her  from  the  country  ;  the  private  feud,  permitted 
its  course,  may  issue  in  general  civil  war. 

136.  grating  shock;  for  the  omission  of  the  before  a  phrase 
otherwise  defined  (as  here  by  of- — arms)  cf.  Abbott,  §  89. 

140.  upon  pain  of  life  is  only  found  in  Shakespeare  here  and  at 
line  153,  for  the  common  '(up)on  pain  of  death'.  The<7/~hasa  different 
force  in  the  two  cases,  in  the  latter  'consisting  in",  in  the  former  (as 
often  in  O.  E.)  'concerning',  'affecting'.  For  a  similar  difference 
in  point  of  view  cf.  the  compounds  of  ftorh  (life)  in  O.  E.  with  their 
modern  equivalents.  Thus  feorh-wund  (lit.  '  life-wound ')  =  death- 
wound  ;  feorh-bealu  (lit.  '  life-evil ')  =  violent  death,  feorh-benn  (lit. 
'  life- wound  ')  =  death-wound. 

143.  stranger,  as  often,  an  adj. 

150.  sly,  probably  from  the  notion  of  a  stealthy  creeping- 
forward,  at  once  noiseless  and  slow.  Cf.  the  use  of  stealing  of  time, 
e.g.  in  the  Sexton's  song,  "  But  age  with  his  stealing  steps,"  &c.,  Ham- 
let t  v.  I.  89.  The  reading  flye-ilou>  of  the  2nd  Folio,  corrected  in  its 
successors,  is  only  superficially  plausible,  and  cannot  be  due  to 
Shakespeare. 

determinate  (see  Glossary),  set  a  term  or  limit  to.  The  whole 
expression  is,  strictly,  both  pleonastic  and  contradictory,  the  notion 
of  '  limit '  being  anticipated  in  determinate  and  cancelled  in  dateless. 
The  latter  word  means  in  Shakespeare  'without  time-limit',' eternal'. 

154  f.  Contrast  this  pathetic  lament  of  Mowbray  with  the  curt  and 
self-possessed  reply  of  Bolingbroke  (144-7).  Not  to  speak  of  his 
harsher  sentence,  banishment  is  for  the  unpopular  Mowbray  the 
end  of  his  career;  for  Bolingbroke  it  is  merely  the  stepping-stone  to 


Scene  3.] 


NOTES. 


125 


a  triumphant  return. — The  speech  is  wholly  Shakespeare's  invention, 
and  indeed  reflects  a  sentiment  more  natural  to  the  i6th  century  than 
to  the  I4th,  and  to  a  poet  than  to  a  noble.  At  the  earlier  date  Eng- 
'ish  was  less  likely  to  be  the  only  tongue  familiar  to  a  great  English 
joble  than  at  any  subsequent  time.  This,  however,  only  throws  into 
relief  the  glowing  patriotism  which  inspired  the  English  histories,  of 
which,  it  has  been  well  said,  '  the  true  heroine  is  England '. 

156-8.  A  dearer  merit... Have  I  deserved.  Johnson  objects  to 
che  phrase  as  tautologous,  and  proposed  a  dearer  mode,  and,  &c. 
Coleridge  quotes  it  with  the  ejaculation:  "O,  the  instinctive  pro- 
priety of  Shakespeare  in  the  choice  of  words ! "  The  two  comments 
well  illustrate  the  difference  between  a  common-sense  apprehension 
of  words,  and  a  poet's  sensibility  to  the  atmosphere  of  association 
which  they  carry  with  them.  Merit  is  used  in  E.  E.,  for  a  'thing 
deserved',  'reward';  and  so  'advantage,  profit*  (Halliwell).  It  is 
thus  exactly  opposed  to  '  maim '.  Dearer,  as  usual,  is  '  greater  in 
degree '.  But  for  Mowbray  to  tell  the  king  that  he  deserved  a 
greater  reward  would  have  been  offensive  bluntness.  The  use  of  the 
more  complex  word  merit,  the  exact  force  of  which  is  only  apparent 
when  elicited  from  the  context,  conveys  the  thought  less  obtrusively. 

156-7.  so  deep. ..as  to  be.  Here  to  be—  '  being ',  the  whole  clause 
being  virtually  an  accusative  noun  corresponding  to  maim,  and  so... 
as  —  tarn . .  .quam  (esse) — this  usage  must  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  that  in  which  as  to  introduces  a  consequence  (ita...ut  sit) — the  to 
here  marking  the  dative,  not  the  nom.  or  ace.  of  the  infinitive. 

172.  [Explain  the  force  of  speechless  death.] 

174.  compassionate.     The  word,  not  used  elsewhere  by  Shake- 
speare of  emotion  felt  for  one's  own  sorrows,  has  a  special  signifi- 
cance in  the  mouth  of  Richard, — himself  of  all  men  the  most  prone 
to  this  'eloquent  self-pity*. 

175.  Richard,  a  little  elated  at  the  instant  obedience  of  both  com- 
batants, attempts — wayward  child  of  impulse  as  he  is — to  play  the 
part  of  the  inexorable  judge;  with  what  success  is  apparent  at  lines 
208-12. 

176-7.  The  passionate  love  of  England  which  underlies  Mow- 
bray's  former  speech,  breaks  out  clear  and  unrestrained  in  this 
lyrical  cry.  Mowbray  is  actually  withdrawing  when  the  king  recalls 
him. 

178-190.  Richard's  authority  has  triumphed.  "In  an  excess  of 
confidence  he  proceeds  to  exact  from  [the  disputants]  a  futile  and 
foolish  oath — futile  because  he  had  no  means  to  enforce  its  obser- 
vance, and  foolish  because  it  was  only  calculated  to  suggest  the 
danger  which  he  wished  to  avoid."  (C.  Ransome.) 

181.  The  king  relieves  them  of  their  allegiance  to  himself  during 
•ixile.      Technically,   it  is  doubtful  whether   'allegiance'  was  not 
<  358 )  I 


126  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act   I. 

suspended  in  any  case  by  exile :  but  Shakespeare  hardly  contem- 
plated this  point. 

189.  The  tautologous  expressions  advised  purpose,  plot  romflot 
represent  the  legal  style  of  oaths  which  Richard  on  the  whole  pre- 
serves throughout  the  speech,  but  characteristically  heightens  with  a 
touch  of  poetry  at  line  187. 

190.  state,  used,  as  often,  of  the  condition  of  a  king,  'majesty'. 
Cf.  iii.  2.  117  and  163  below. 

193.  The  preliminary  unfinished  phrase  intimates  (like  a  flag  of 
truce)  that  what  he  is  about  to  say  in  no  way  affects  their  standing 
enmity,  but  is  not  itself  hostile  in  intention. 

195.  So  the  dying  Talbot  (/  Htnry  VI.  iv.  7.  21)  foresees  his  own 
and  his  dead  son's  souls  in  flight:  "Two  Talbots,  winged  through 
the  lither  sky... shall  'scape  mortality,"  and  the  dying  York  (Henry 
V.  iv.  6,  II  f.)  bids  Suffolk  'tarry':  "  My  soul  shall  keep  thine  com- 
pany to  heaven ;  Tarry  sweet  soul  for  mine ;  then  fly  abreast ". 

196.  The  conception  of  the  soul  as  confined  within  the  body  is 
current   in  Elizabethan  poetry;   the  precise  image  varies  with  the 
mood  or  theology  of  the  writer,  from  that  of  the  'guest'  (Raleigh: 
"Soul,  the  body  s  guest")  or  the  'tenant'  (Shakespeare:  Sonnet  146, 
"  Poor  soul,  the  centre  of  my  simple  earth,  ..\Vhy  so  large  cost,  hav- 
ing so  short  a  lease,  Dost  thou  upon  thy  fading  mansion  spend?  ")  to 
that  of  the  prisoner  (below,  iii.  2.  167)  or  the  corpse,  as  here.     Cf. 
the  famous  passage  in  Merchant  of  Venice,  v.  63,  where  the  soul  is 
thought  of  as  a  harmonious  singer,  "But  while  this  muddy  vesture 
of  decay  Doth  grossly  close  it  in  we  cannot  hear  it". 

204.  Mowbray  hints  plainly  at  Bolingbroke's  designs.  Richard 
himself  shows,  in  the  next  scene  (i.  4.  20-2),  that  he  also  is  cognisant 
of  them.  Note  how  the  dramatic  effectiveness  of  this  first  act  is  en- 
riched by  the  double  rdles  which  both  Richard  and  Bolingbroke  play, 
and  which  each  perceives  in  the  other's  case  and  carefully  conceals  in 
his  own. 

207.  Johnson,  and  Coleridge  after  him,  compare  the  closing  lines 
of  Paradise  Lost,  "  The  world  was  all  before  them,"  &c. 

208  f.  See  note  to  line  1 75.  Richard's  apparent  regard  for  Gaunt's 
feelings  discloses  a  new  aspect  of  his  character, — his  feminine  sensi- 
tiveness to  authority.  The  grand  personality  of  Gaunt  imposes  upon 
him  in  spite  of  himself:  note  how  he  blenches  at  Gaunt's  rebuke 
(ii.  II.  18),  and  blusters  to  conceal  it.  Bolingbroke,  too,  imposes  on 
him :  note  how,  as  soon  as  the  two  meet  on  equal  terms.  Richard 
not  only  does  not  resist,  but  characteristically  capitulates  before  he 
is  asked — walks  open-eyed  into  the  snare  which  his  rival  at  each  step 
closes  irrevocably  behind  him. 

211.  The  remission  of  the  four  years  actually  occurred  some  weeks 
later,  when  Bolingbroke  took  leave  of  the  king  at  Eltham.  (Holin- 
shed.) 


Scene  3.] 


NOTES. 


127 


213-5.  "Admirable  anticipation !"  (Coleridge.)  Bolingbroke's  sar- 
casm forces  into  prominence  the  contrast  between  Richard,  the  man 
of  impulse,  and  himself  the  man  of  will,  upon  which  the  whole  sequel 
turned. 

214.  wanton;  a  poetic  and  beautiful  word  in  E.  E.  (see  Glossary); 
'luxuriant,  wayward,  unrestrained'. 

220.  about,  i.e.  bring  their  successive  seasons  round. 

224.  blindfold  death;  the  state  of  death,  which  involves  the 
loss  of  sight.  Shakespeare  uses  the  word  only  once  elsewhere,  in 
"blindfold  fury  ",  Venus  and  Adonis,  554. 

226  f.  "When  did  the  slighted  dignity  of  suffering  ever  rise  up 
more  proudly  against  the  frivolous  recklessness  of  power  than  in  this 
answer?"  (Kreyssig.) 

230.  '  Efface  no  wrinkle  wrought  by  time  in  his  course.' 

231.  'He  will  accept  your  command  as  valid  authority  for  putting 
me  to  death.'     Current,  a  metaphor  from  coin. 

233.  upon  good  advice,  after  due  consideration.     See  Glossary. 

234.  a  party  verdict,  a  decision  to  which  you  were  a  party. 

234.  That  Gaunt  actually  voted  for  his  son's  banishment  is  a  trait 
admirably  invented  by  Shakespeare  in  accordance  with  his  own  con- 
ception of  the  character,  as  shown  especially  by  i.  2.  37-41. 

236-246.  Gaunt  utters  here  that  inflexible  devotion  to  the  service 
of  the  state  which  gave  the  sovereigns  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  in 
Shakespeare's  eyes,  their  title  to  reign.  The  distinction  he  draws 
between  his  political  and  his  personal  relations,  and  his  Roman  sub- 
ordination of  the  latter  to  the  former,  had  no  existence  in  the  mind 
of  Richard,  who  acted  in  all  things  as  his  momentary  impulse 
prompted.  Compare  this  bitter  sacrifice  of  his  son  with  the  lackey- 
like  subserviency  of  York  in  betraying  Aumerle  (v.  3). 

236.  Gaunt  replies  characteristically  (see  note  to  i.  163)  with  an 
epigram,  which,  as  usual  with  epigrams,  gives  a  somewhat  heightened 
expression  to  his  thought.  His  condemnation  of  his  son  had  been 
'  sweet '  only  in  the  sense  in  which  compliance  with  a  painful  duty 
is  more  satisfactory  to  a  conscientious  man  than  neglect  of  it :  the 
bitter  consequences  are  now  more  present  to  him  than  that  Stoic 
satisfaction. 

241.  a  partial  slander.     See  note  to  line  90  above. 

243.  look'd.     This  verb  in  E.E.  often  = 'be  on  the  watch  for', 'ex- 
pect'.    So  already  in  O.  E.  with  when,  as  here,  e.g.  "oferlagu  I6ca$> 
georne,  hwonne  up  cyme  siuegles  Ie6mn  ",  '  looks  over  the  waters  (to  see) 
when  the  heavenly  light  shall  arise'. 

244.  to. ..away.      To  with  the  infinitive  often  in  E.E.  introduces 
a  clause  describing  the  circumstance  in  (or  by)  which  something 


128  KIN'.    RICHARD   II.  [Act  I. 

happens;  to  having  then  its  old  but  now  rare  locative  sense:  cf.  the 
German  :u  ('to')  with  place-names,  :r  Kng.  at,  in.  So  of  time:  cf. 
•to-day',  &c.,  and  note  to  ii.  I.  217. 

249-50.  Aumerle'scurt  and  careless  fan-well  is  rendered  in  a  harsh 
and  ill-expressed  couplet.  At  a  later  time  Shakespeare  becomes 
chary  of  making  style  dramatically  expressive  at  the  cost  of  the  Terse. 
He  makes  his  blunt  men  use  prose.  Cf.  Casca  \njulius  Casar. 

256-7.  prodigal  To  breathe,  i.e.  in  breathing;  like  strict  to 
make  away  above. 

258.  grief  in  Shakespeare  is  both  the  emotion  and  its  outward 
cause  ('grievance').  Gaunt  uses  the  word  in  the  latter  sense,  his 
son  in  the  former.  Note  the  pathetic  background  of  Gaunt's  words, 
viz.  the  thought  that  his  own  'grief  is  an  absence  without  end. 

258  -67.  This  rapid  line-lot  -line  debate  (ffrixonvdia)  is  in  the  manner 
of  the  wit-tournaments  of  Love's  Labour''!  Lost,  though  charged  with 
a  fulness  of  emotion  quite  foreign  to  that  play.  Other  nearly  con- 
temporary examples  are  Kit  hard  III.  \.  2;  iv.  4  (Richard  and  Anne, 
Richard  and  Elizabeth),  and  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iv.  I.  17  (Juliet  and 
Paris).  It  is  a  mark  of  the  young  Shakespeare,  and  was  probably 
suggested  partly  by  Seneca,  partly  by  the  amo?bean  contests  in 
Vergil's  Eclogues,  and  the  Shepheards  Calender. 

260-1.  For  the  thought  compare  Rosalind's  playful  description 
of  the  various  paces  of  Time  (As  You  Like  It,  iii.  2.  324-350). 

262.  The  motive  of  this  and  the  two  following  speeches  of  Gaunt, 
viz.  that  sorrow  may  be  lessened  by  a  resolute  use  of  imagination, 
was  perhaps  suggested  by  I^eicester's  consolation  of  Edward  II.,  as 
a  prisoner  at  Kenilworth  (Marlowe,  Edward  II.  ed.  Dyce,  p.  212) — 

"  Be  patient,  good  my  lord,  cease  to  lament ; 
Imagine  Killingworth  Castle  were  your  court, 
And  that  you  lay  for  pleasure  here  a  space, 
Not  of  compulsion  or  necessity". 

The  plan  is  characteristic  of  the  old  man's  glowing  imagination,  but 
appeals  less  to  the  more  matter-of-fact  and  practical  Bolingbioke. 

266-7.  Gaunt  here  anticipates  the  image  he  uses  in  ii.  I,  "This 
precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea". 

269.  what  a  deal  of  world,  '  what  a  quantity  of  the  earth's 
surface',  'distance'.  The  phrase  'a  deal',  though  now  branded  as  a 
vulgarism,  was  good  colloquial  English  in  the  i6th  century. 

271-4.  Bolingbroke  compares  the  long  habituation  to  grief  which 
lies  before  him,  to  the  apprentice's  years  of  service  (journeyman 
properly -one  hired  by  the  day),  at  the  end  of  which  he  is  'free*. 
i.e.  at  liberty  to  work  for  himself. 

272.  foreign  passages,  wanderings  abroad. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  129 

275-6.  Wherever  the  sun  shines,  the  wise  man  can  contentedly 
dwell.  '  Omne  solum  forti  patria  est.' 

276.  wise  man,  written  in  Q  i  and  Q  2  wiseman,  indicating  that 
•man  was  pronounced  as  an  enclitic.  Cf.  'goodman',  'madman',  the 
proper  name  Trueman,  &c.,  and  Bunyan's  Mr.  Badman.      In  O.E. 
an  adjective  regularly  had  a  stronger  stress  than  a  noun  following  it. 

277.  A  variation  on  the  proverbial  'to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity', 
used  by  Shakespeare,  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  iv.  I.  62. 

279-80.  Shakespeare  gives  a  similar  outbreak  to  Coriolanus,  on 
the  announcement  of  his  banishment :  "  You  common  cry  of  curs, 
whose  breath  I  hate. ...I  banish  you!"  Coriolanus,  iii.  3.  1 20  f. 

282.  purchase,  acquire.     See  Glossary. 

284.  in  before  a  personal  or  possessive  pronoun  had  a  stronger 
stress  in  E.  E.  than  now :  hence  the  present  line.  Cf.  Love's  Labour 's 
Lest,  i.  I.  39,  "And  stay  here  in  your  court  for  three  years'  space''; 
Troilus  and  Cressida,  v.  2.  169,  "That  sleeve  is  mine  that  he  bears 
in  his  helm"  (  Q.  on).  In  O.E.  prepositions  regularly  took  the 
stress  from  a  following  pronoun ;  so  still  in  Md.  E.  -with  me,  for 
me,  &c. 

288.  On  metre,  see  Prosody,  I.  §  4  (ii). 

289.  the  presence  strew'd,  the  rush-strewn  floors  still  customary 
in  Shakespeare's  time.     Presence,  the  reception-room  or  presence- 
chamber. 

291.  The  measure  was  technically  a  grave  and  stately  dance,  as 
in  Much  Ado,  ii.  80,  "mannerly,  modest,  like  a  measure,  full  of  state 
and  ancientry".  Shakespeare,  however,  uses  it  also  more  loosely  of 
dancing  in  general;  as  in  Tu<elfth  Night,  v.  41,  "the  triplex  is  a 
good  tripping  measure".  But  he  is  probably  thinking  here  of  the 
measure  proper,  as  more  resembling  the  slow  steps  of  exile,  'delight- 
ful' as  it  was. 

294.  fire,  as  commonly,  two  syllables  (fi>r),  cf.  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (iv) 
(through  the  development  in  early  Md.  E.  of  a  secondary  vowel 
before  -r) ;  but  there  was  a  growing  tendency  to  treat  this  and  other 
groups  of  adjacent  vowels  as  equivalent  to  one  syllable. 

299.  fantastic  corresponds  to  imagination  above;  i.e.  summer's 
heat  that  exists  only  in  fancy. 

300.  Similarly,  apprehension  is  used,  as  conceit  often  is,  of  an 
idea  seized  upon  and  possessed  by  the  mind,  though  it  have  no  real 
basis. 

302.  rankle,  used  especially  of  the  irritation  produced  by  poison 
or  inflammation.  Bolingbroke  hints  that  the  method  of  healing 
sorrow  by  imagining  joy  is  as  futile  as  that  of  healing  a  festered 
wound  by  avoiding  the  additional  but  beneficent  pain  of  the  sur- 
geon's lancet. 


130  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  I 

302-3.  This  and  (Limit's  previous  speech  are  hardly  surpassed 
examples  of  the  light  and  melodious  yet  nervous  blank  verse  of 
Shakespeare's  early  manhood. 

306.  England's  ground.  The  artule  or  a  defining  substantive  is 
often  used  before  a  noun  in  the  vocative  in  E.  li,  as  in  O.  K.  and  M .  I  , 
but  not  in  Md.  E.  Cf.  Cordelia's  address  to  her  sisters  as  "The 
jewels  of  our  father",  I^ar,  i.  I.  271;  Brutus'  farewell  to  Cassius, 
"The  last  of  all  the  Romans,  fare  thee  well  !"  Julius  Casar,  v.  3. 
99.  Cf.  Kellner,  §  223. 

306-9.  Bolingbroke's  parting  speech  strikes  the  key-note  of  the 
drama  on  its  historic  side.  However  personal  his  aims  may  be,  it 
is  with  him  that  the  immediate  future  of  England  rests.  Note  the 
significant  contrast  between  Bolingbroke's  farewell  to  England  and 
Richard's  greeting  to  her  upon  his  return  from  Ireland  (iii.  2). 
Richard  conceives  his  country  as  his  'child',  to  whom  he  'does 
favours  with  his  royal  hands',  and  of  whom  he  expects  single- 
minded  loyalty  in  his  service.  Bolingbroke  conceives  it  as  his 
'  mother '  and  '  nurse ',  to  whom  he  owes  what  he  is,  and  who  will 
be  his  boast  and  glory  in  exile. 

Scene  4. 

"This  is  a  striking  conclusion  of  a  first  act,  letting  the  readei 
into  the  secret;  ..a  new  light  is  thrown  on  Richard's  character. 
Until  now  he  has  appeared  in  all  the  beauty  of  royalty ;  but  here,  as 
soon  as  he  is  left  to  himself,  the  inherent  weakness  of  his  character 
is  immediately  shown."  (Coleridge.)  Richard's 'weakness'  had  no 
doubt  already  betrayed  itself  by  a  number  of  slight  traits,  in  spite  of  his 
singular  command  of  kingly  dignity.  Here,  however,  the  disguise 
is  stripped  off,  we  see  him  in  undress,  conversing  at  ease  with  his 
intimates  and  familiars.  He  now  discloses  (l)  his  dislike  of  Boling- 
broke, and  insight  into  his  purposes  (lines  22  f.) ;  (2)  his  contempt  for 
the  rights  of  his  subjects,  high  and  low — thus  preparing  us  for  the 
national  revolt  which  follows  (42-52,  61-2);  (3)  his  cynical  indiffer- 
ence to  the  fate  of  his  own  kin  (59-60);  note  the  scathing  contrast 
between  the  relation  of  nephew  and  uncle  shown  here,  and  that 
between  the  son  and  father  at  the  close  of  the  last  scene  ;  (4)  his 
reliance  upon  unscrupulous  and  incompetent  favourites.  Cf.  the 
drastic  account  given  by  Bolingbroke  as  Henry  IV.  to  Prince  Hal, 
whom  he  scornfully  compares  to  Richard,  of  the  "skipping  king" 
who  "ambled  up  and  down  with  shallow  jesters  and  rash  bavin  wits", 
/  Henry  /I',  iii.  2.  60.  (See  Introduction.) 

i.  we  did  observe.  Richard  with  Bagot  and  Green,  have 
noticed  Bolingbroke's  behaviour  at  his  departure,  as  graphically 
described  by  the  king,  lines  20-36. 

3.  Aumerle's  ironical  repetition  of  //(?//,  and  the  punning  'high- 
way '  in  the  next  line,  warn  the  reader  that  Richard  also,  to  whom 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  131 

these  freedoms  are  plainly  not  unwelcome,  is  Bolingbroke's  bitter 
foe. 

6.   for  me,  for  my  part. 

13.  that,  referring  to  the  whole  fact  just  stated,  — his  disdain  to 
profane  the  word  farewell. 

14.  oppression,  passive,  of  expressing  the  source  of  oppression, 
viz.  'grief  so  great  that',  &c. 

16.   For  metre,  see  Prosody,  I.  §  2  (ii). 

20.  doubt,  doubtful,  an  instance  of  the  use  of  substantive  as  an 
adjective,  as  in  -worth  (O.  E.  weorft  —  value),  cheap  (O.  E.  cedp  =  \xax- 
ter),  &c.  Cf.  Kellner,  §  134-6,  and  ii.  I.  19  below. 

22.  friends,  'kinsmen,'  a  sense  still  frequent,  and  probably  due 
to  Scandinavian  influence;  O.  N.  frcendi  always  —  kinsman. 

23  f.  Compare  the  description  afterwards  given  by  Bolingbroke 
himself  (as  Henry  IV.)  of  his  politic  courtesies : 

"Men  would  tell  their  children  'this  is  he' ; 
Others  would  say,  'Where,  which  is  Bolingbroke?' 
And  then  I  stole  all  courtesy  from  heaven, 
And  dress'd  myself  in  such  humility 
That  I  did  pluck  allegiance  from  men's  hearts 
Even  in  the  presence  of  the  crowned  king." 

i  Henry  IV.  iii.  2.  48. 

28.  craft ;  a  play  upon  the  two  related  senses  of  the  word,  both 
derived  from  its  O.  E.  force,  'cunning,  dexterity*. 

29.  underbearing,  enduring.     Shakespeare's  only  other  use  01 
the  word  in  this  sense  was  nearly  contemporary  (King  John,  iii.  1.65). 

30.  affects,  affections.     Both  words,  covering  nearly   the  same 
range  of  meanings,  were  current  in  E.E. ;  affect  became  obsolete  in 
the  1 7th  century. 

banish  their   affects,   bear  their  affections  into   banishment 
with  him. 

35-6.  '  As  if  England  would  fall  to  him  by  just  title  on  the  death 
of  the  present  sovereign.' 

37.  Green  shows  in  a  single  line  his  qualifications  as  a  coun- 
sellor.    It  is  plain  that  he  encourages  Richard's  fatal  delusion  that 
dangers  are  got  rid  of  by  being  put  out  of  sight,  and  that  Boling- 
broke, once  banished,  may  be  safely  forgotten. 

go.  Subjunctive,  'let  them  go'. 

38.  stand  out,  are  in  open  rebellion. 

39.  Expedient  manage. ..made,  speedy  measures  of  control  must 
be  put  in  force.     See  Glossary,  s.v.  manage. 


132  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

43.  The  reckless  extravagance  of  the  royal  household,  where 
10,000  retainers,  as  Richard  afterwards  boasts  (iv.  i.  282),  lived  at 
the  king's  cost,  100  in  the  kitchen  alone,  was  not  the  least  of  the 
causes  of  discontent.  Cf.  the  contemporary  poem  on  Richard's 
deposition — 

"  For  where  was  ever  any  Christian  king 
That  held  such  an  household  by  the  half-deal 
As  Richard  in  this  realm,  through  misrule  of  others?" 

45.  "The  common  brute  [rumour]  ranne,  that  the  kyng  had  sctte 
to  ferine  the  realme  of  England,  unto  Sir  William  Scrope  Earle  of 
Wiltshire,  and  then  treasurer  of  Englamle,  to  Sir  John  Bushy,  Syr 
John  Bagot,  and  Sir  Henry  Greene,  knights."  (Holinshed,  quoted 
by  Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

to  farm,  i.e.  to  hand  over  the  right  of  receiving  the  national 
revenues  in  consideration  of  a  present  cash  payment 

48-50.  The  king's  deputies  received  blank  forms  entitling  them  to 
demand  from (any  person) (any  sum). 

50.  subscribe,  write  their  names  under. 
52.  presently,  as  usual,  'at  once'. 

54.  grievous,  the  adj.  for  the  adv.  Gaunt's  death  actually 
occurred  on  Feb.  3,  1399,  more  than  four  months  after  the  meeting 
at  Coventry  and  two  after  Bolingbroke's  actual  departure. 

58.  Ely  House.      "The  bishop  of  Ely's  palace  in  Holborn,  the 
site  of  which  is  still  marked  by  Ely-place."   (Cl.  Pr.  edd.)     Richard 
III.  is  made  to  recall  its  pleasant  garden  and  strawberries,  Richard 
III.  iii.  4.  33. 

59.  So   Marlowe's  Edward    II.  is  made  to  wish  that  Mortimer 
and  Lancaster  "had  both  carous'd  a  bowl  of  poison  to  each  other's 
health  ".   (Edward  II.  p.  198,  ed.  Dyce.) 

61.  lining,  the  word  was  used  colloquially  of  that  which  forms 
the  whole  contents  of  anything  hollow,  as  well  as  of  that  which  simply 
covers  the  inner  surface.  So  especially  of  money  as  lining  a  chest ; 
cf.  Jaques'  description  of  the  justice's  "fair  round  belly  with  good 
capon  lin'd",  A3  You  Like  It,  ii.  7.  154;  and  the  modern  colloquial 
'  to  line  one's  nest'. 


Act  II.— [The  Uprising.] 
Scene  I. 

The  first  part  of  the  scene  (1-146),  wholly  Shakespeare's  invention, 
discloses  better  than  any  other  passage  his  point  of  view  in  writing 
the  English  Histories.  Note  that  this  part  of  the  scene  has  no  im- 
portance in  the  structure  of  the  play;  it  in  no  way  forwards  the  action 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  133 

— even  Richard's  seizure  of  Gaunt's  property  being  merely  the  exe- 
cution of  his  resolution  already  announced  (i.  4.  61),  not  an  act  of 
vengeance  for  his  plain-speaking. — A  death-scene  in  some  respects 
similar  to  this,  and  nowise  inferior  in  dramatic  power,  may  be 
found  in  Ibsen's  great  historical  tragedy  Kongsemnerne  (7'/ie  Pre- 
tenders, translated  by  W.  Archer). 

1-4.  Note  the  broad  yet  subtle  contrast  drawn  between  the  two 
brothers.  Gaunt's  loyalty  sternly  reproves;  York's  timidly  acquiesces 
or  faintly  protests.  The  caustic  quasi-parallel  between  their  relations 
to  their  sons  has  been  already  noted. 

5, 6.  Oh,  but  they  say,  &c.  The  idea  that  the  approach  of  death 
brings  prophetic  powers  belonged  to  Germanic  mythology.  So,  in 
the  Eddie  lay  of  Sigurd,  Brynhild  delivers  a  great  prophecy  after 
dealing  herself  the  death-blow. 

9-12.  The  rhymed  quatrain  (Prosody,  III.  §  4  (Hi))  is  frequent  in  the 
dialogue  of  Comedy  of  Errors,  Love's  Labour' 's  Lost,  and  Midsummer 
Nights  Dream ;  it  always  marks,  as  here,  or,  as  in  King  John,  ii.  I. 
504  (Bastard),  the  parody  of  it,  lyrical  exaltation.  Together  with 
the  four  following  lines  these  were  put  in  the  margin  as  spurious  by 
Pope. 

9.  listen,  like  list,  is  quite  current  with  a  direct  object  in  E.E. 

10.  glose,  speak  insincerely,  falsely  ;  mostly  used  of  flattery.    See 
Glossary. 

12.  close  was  used  as  a  special  term  for  the  harmonious  chords 
which  habitually  end  a  piece  of  music.  "  Congreeing  in  a  full  and 
natural  close  like  music,"  Henry  V.  i.  2.  183. 

16.  My  death's  sad  tale,  my  solemn  dying  words. 

undeaf :  a  bold  instance  of  the  E.  E.  idicm  by  which  any  adj. 
could  be  treated  as  a  verb.  Cf.  Abbott,  §  290.  So,  '  unhappied ',  iii. 
i.  10.  Here  the  adj.  itself  is  probably  a  free  coinage  of  Shakespeare's: 
he  does  not  use  it  elsewhere. 

17.  other  flattering  sounds,  i.e.  other  sounds,  viz.  flattering  ones. 

18.  The  reading  of  this  line  is  quite  uncertain.    The  First  Quarto 
has,  of  whose  taste  the  wise  are  found,  the  second  state  for  taste; 
while  the  other  Quartos  and  the  Folios  have  of  his  state :  then  there  are 
found.     Collier  conjectured  fond  for  found.     The  second  reading  is 
objectionable  as  destroying  the  parallelism  between  this  and  the  next 
couplet,  each  of  which  in  the  First  Quarto  contains  a  relative  clause 
with  whose;  while  the  phrase  "then  there  are  found"  is  feeble  both 
in  sense  and  rhythm.     The  slight  change  to  fond  in  the  reading  of 
the  First  Quarto  gives  an  excellent  sense;  arefondof—do\.&  upon. 

19.  venom;  on  the  use  of  nouns  as  adj.  see  note  to  i.  4.  20. 

21-3.  Shakespeare  transfers  to  the  fourteenth  century  what  was 
characteristic  of  the  sixteenth,  and  makes  York  anticipate  the  com- 
plaints of  Ascham. 


134  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

.23.  imitation.     Does  Shakespeare  intend  a  rhyme  here? 

25.  respect,  a  verbal  noun,  '  the  considering ',  '  having  regard  ': 
'if  il  be  only  new,  no  one  regards  how  vile  it  is'. 

26.  buzz  in  K.  E.  refers  to  one  of  two  kinds  of  subdued  noise  now 
expressed  by  different  words, — whisper  and  hum.     The  latter  is  pre- 
ferable here,  since  it  is  not  suggested  that  the  communications  are 
sft  >it,  but  that  they  are  vain  and  empty. 

28.  '  Where  will  rel>els  against  that  which  understanding  approves.' 
Regard  is  in  E.  E.   (i)  a  look,  but  (2)  especially  a  look  implying 
respect,   esteem,  deference;  hence  (3)  these  qualities   in   themselves. 
With  in  its  old  sense  of  'against ',  on  the  analogy  of '  fight  with',  &c. 

29.  [Give  an  exact  paraphrase  of  this  line.] 

31-2.  inspired. ..expiring;  another  case  of  Gaunt's  'nice  play* 
with  words  where  no  jest  is  thought  of;  cf.  i.  I.  163,  and  ii.  I.  63-4, 
84- 

33-4.  For  the  thought  cf.  Friar  I^awrence's  "  These  violent  de- 
sires have  violent  ends",  Borneo  and  Juliet,  ii.  6.  9;  and  the  I'layer- 
king's  "The  violence  of  either  grief  or  joy  Their  own  enactures  with 
themselves  destroy  ",  Hamlet,  iii.  2.  172. 

35.  Note  the  effect  of  the  double  or  cross  alliteration  (s — sh — s — 
s/i)  and  how  the  contrast  between  the  continuous  showers  and  the 
sudden  storms  is  expressed  to  the  ear  by  the  accumulation  of  liquids 
and  continuous  sounds  in  the  first  half  of  the  verse,  of  explosives  (t,  d) 
in  the  second. 

37-9.  The  penalties  of  improvident  rashness  are  described  under 
distinct  metaphors,  both  relating  to  food  ; — the  suffocation  produced 
by  over-hasty  swallcwing,  and  the  starvation  due  to  consuming  one's 
stores  too  fast. 

40-55.  This  passage  seems  to  have  at  once  become  famous,  as  it 
might  well ;  it  was  quoted  in  the  collection  of  poems  called  Englamfs 
Parnassus,  1600,  but  attributed  by  mistake  to  Drayton. — Gaunt's 
eloquence  is  habitually  imaginative  rather  than  argumentative  in 
type:  it  advances  not  by  developing  a  thought,  but  by  presenting  it  in 
varied  series  of  images.  Cf.  i.  3.  221-4,  226-32. 

41.  earth  of  majesty.  Earth  is  sometimes  used  by  Shakespeare 
in  the  sense  of  'country',  'seat',  'domain',  almost  'native  land". 
Just  as  England  is  addressed  by  Richard  as  '  my  earth ',  so  it  is  said 
to  belong  to,  to  be  the  proper  domain  of  'majesty  '.  So  at  line  50 
below. 

44.  infection,  pollution,  both  moral  and  physical.  Daniel's 
Civil  Wars,  1595,  contains  a  couplet  (iv.  90)  probably  suggested  by 
this— 

"  Neptune  keepe  out  from  thy  embraced  He 
This  foule  contagion  of  iniquitie".   (Cl.  Fr.  edd.) 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  135 

49.  envy,  malice,  enmity,  as  usual. 

less  happier;  this  comparative  is  a  purely  momentary  ano- 
maly, which  never  gained  vogue.  It  was  doubtless  formed  on  the 
analogy  of  more  happier.  Since  more  happier  was  merely  a  more 
emphatic  form  of  more  happy  (-er  adding  nothing  to  the  meaning), 
less  happier  could  be  felt  as  a  more  emphatic  form  of  less  happy. 

52.  I.e.  feared  as  belonging  to  the  '  happy  breed  '  —  the  gifted  race 
—  of  Englishmen.  Another  case  of  cross-alliteration.  This  is  found 
in  all  periods  of  English  poetry,  from  Beowulf  (e.g.  "  sibban  J>eod- 
tyning  Jnder  onnrde",  'then  the  chief  turned  thither')  to  Tennyson: 
"  His  ^eavy-5/wtted  //ammock-j//roud",  In  Memoriam.  Cf.  in  Shake- 
speare also  "A  /ittle  more  than  >£in  and  /ess  than  X'ind",  Hamlet, 
i.  2.  65. 

60.  pelting,  petty.     See  Glossary. 

62.  A  last-century  critic  proposed  to  read  stirge  for  siege:  and 
most  poets  would  in  fact  have  written  so.  But  the  bold  image  gives 
a  peculiarly  Shakespearian  flavour  to  the  phrase. 

64.  Note  the  frequency  with  which  Shakespeare  uses  imagery 
drawn  from  blots  and  stains  in  this  play,  e.g.,  i.  3.  202;  iii.  4.  81;  iv. 
I.  236,  324-5;  v.  3.  66. 

70.  raged,  the  word  gives  a  feeble  sense,  but  is  probably  right, 
and  the  weakness  of  the  word-play  is  not  uncharacteristic  of  York 
(cf.  182-3,  l%7>  201.  2I3~4)-  In  tms  as  m  weightier  matters  York 
faintly  reproduces  the  traits  of  his  great  brother. 

71-2.  The  courteous  deference  of  the  queen  contrasts  with  Rich- 
ard's surly  bluntness.  As  his  uncle's  self-constituted  heir  (i.  4.  6l)  he 
is  irritated  to  find  that  he  has  not  'come  too  late'. 

73-84.  The  bitter  word-play  of  these  lines  proved  a  stumbling- 
block  to  the  somewhat  matter-of-fact  critics  of  the  last  century.  Pope 
put  them  in  the  margin.  Nineteenth-century  criticism  has  learned  to 
analyse  both  passion  and  wit  more  subtly,  and  to  perceive  that  the 
latter  may  be  at  times  the  natural  language  of  the  former.  "On  a 
death-bed  there  is  a  feeling  which  may  make  all  things  appear  but  as 
puns  and  equivocations.  And  a  passion  there  is  that  carries  off  its 
own  excess  by  plays  on  words  as  naturally,  and  therefore  as  appro- 
priately to  drama,  as  by  gesticulations,  looks,  or  tones  —  There  is  a 
natural,  an  almost  irresistible,  tendency  in  the  mind,  when  immersed 
in  one  strong  feeling,  to  connect  that  feeling  with  every  sight  and 
object  around  it  ;  especially  if  there  be  opposition,  and  the  words 
addressed  to  it  are  in  any  way  repugnant  to  the  feeling  itself,  as  here 
in  the  instance  of  Richard's  unkind  language."  (Coleridge.)  Com- 
pare the  word-play  of  the  frenzied  Ajax  : 

Alcu'  ris  &v  TTOT'  (fieff'  <55'  £irii}i>vfju>v 
rovfibv  %vvoifffiv  6vo/j.a  TOIJ  Riot's  Ka.Kots  ; 


('  Ay  me!  who  could  ever  have  supposed  that  my  name  would  thus 


136  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

become  the  fit  expression  of  my  sorrows?')  Soph.  Ajax,  430  f. ;  and 
Frag.  877  (quoted  l>y  Campbell  in  note  to  this  passage),  where 
l-My.-x.-u-.  similarly  plays  upon  his  name. 

Note  how  Shakespeare  himself  anticipates,  and  answers,  the  objec- 
tion in  lines  84-5. 

83.  inherits.     See  Glossary. 

84.  nicely,  fantastically.     The  word  in  E.  E.  still  implies  dispa: 
agement ;  it  is  used  especially  of  idle  trifling,  giving  disproportionate 
attention  to  little  things. 

85.  to. ..itself,  in  (by)  mocking  itself.     For  this  force  of  to  cf.  note 
to  i.  3.  244.     "Misery  amuses  itself  by  self-derision."  (Deighton.) 

86-7.  Gaunt  ironically  suggests  that,  as  the  king  has  striven  to 
destroy  his  '  name '  by  banishing  his  heir,  he  himself  has  but  '  flat- 
tered '  the  king  by  his  mocking  misuse  of  it. 

94.  '(I),  ill  in  myself,  who  see  you,  and  seeing  ill  in  you.'  Gaunt 
is  apparently  intended  to  use  the  words  I  see  thee  ill  in  a  double 
sense,  ///agreeing  with  either  /or  thee;  the  first  half  of  the  present 
line  explains  the  former  sense,  the  second  half  the  latter. 

102-3.  Although  the  'flattery'  affects  directly  only  Richard's 
mind,  the  whole  country  is  involved  in  its  ruinous  results. — The  use 
of  the  term  verge  is  felicitous,  since  this  technically  described  "the 
compass  about  the  king's  court,  which  extended  for  twelve  miles 
around"  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.).  Waste  is  used  in  its  legal  sense  of  "de- 
struction of  houses,  wood,  or  other  produce  of  land,  done  by  the 
tenant  to  the  prejudice  of  the  freehold  "  (id.), 

108.  possess'd,  seized  with  a  mad  impulse. 

in.  '  Enjoying  as  your  world  or  domain ',  cf.  line  45. 

113-4.  By  leasing  out  your  country  you  have  assumed  towards  it 
the  relation  of  a  landlord,  not  of  a  king,  and  have  made  yourself,  like 
any  other  landlord,  subject  to  the  law  which  regulates  such  bargains. 
It  is  characteristic  that  Gaunt  does  not  suggest,  as  a  modern  reformer 
might,  that  the  king  had  overridden  the  law,  but  that  he  had  made 
himself  in  an  unseemly  degree  subject  to  its  control. 

114.  Thy  state  of  law,  your  legal  status  as  king.  State  is  often  used 
pregnantly  for  'the  condition  of  king";  as  where  Richard  is  describee1 
by  Gaunt's  son  as  having  "carded  his  state,  mingled  his  royalty,"  &c 
/  Henry  IV.  iii.  2.  62. 

115.  lean-witted.    Richard's  passion,  like  Gaunt's,  finds  vent  i. 
word-play;  he  scornfully  adds  one  other  interpretation  of  his  uncle's 
name. 

118.  It  is  characteristic  of  Richard  that  he  grows  pale,  in  spite  of 
himself,  before  Gaunt's  scathing  invective;  still  more  so,  that  he 
realizes  this  change  in  his  complexion;  most  of  all,  that  he  calls 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  137 

attention  to  it,  and  describes  it  in  a  picturesque  image, — the  sudden 
expulsion  from  its  dwelling  of  that  rich  glowing  colour  which  suggested 
Hotspur's  epithet,  —  'Richard  that  sweet  lovely  rose*.  Compare 
his  anxiety  in  iv.  I.  265  to  see  the  expression  of  his  face  after  de- 
position. The  historical  Richard  is  shown  by  his  effigy  to  have  been 
)f  marked  personal  beauty. 

122.  roundly,  unceremoniously ;  a  characteristic  Elizabethan  de- 
velopment of  the  sense  of  round  as  (l)  complete,  intact,  thence  (2) 
unqualified,  unreserved,  straightforward. 

126-131.  Note  that  Richard,  who  had  rudely  interrupted  Gaunt's 
first  indictment,  is  cowed  by  this  more  terrible  charge,  and  only  when 
Gaunt  is  finally  borne  away  to  die,  flings  a  sullen  curse  after  him. 

126.  This  legend  of  the  pelican  belonged  to  the  store  of  animal- 
mythology  handed  down  by  the  mediaeval  Bestiaries  or  moralized 
accounts  of  animals.  It  occurs  already  in  the  Ancren  Riwle  (c.  1200). 

130.  precedent,  'instance  proving  the  fact  that — ';  slightly  differ- 
ing from  the  modern  sense,  where  the  priority  of  the  instance  in  time 
is  more  prominent 

134.  crooked,  used  primarily  of  age,  characteristically  suggests  to 
Gaunt  the  thought  of  the  '  crooked  scythe '  of  Time. 

141-4.  This  timid  and  futile  attempt  to  discount  Gaunt's  reproof, 
which  York  knows  to  be  just,  warns  the  reader,  and  might  have 
warned  the  king,  how  much  his  fidelity  is  to  be  counted  upon  when 
fidelity  becomes  dangerous. 

144.  As  Harry,  &c.,  i.e.  as  he  holds  his  son. 

145.  Richard  takes  advantage  of  the  ambiguity  of  line  144.     This 
couplet  is  one  of  those  penetrating  touches  of  character-drawing 
which  form  the  texture  of  the  great  tragedies,  are  scattered  at  intervals 
over  the  early  plays,  and  in  the  present  play  occur  mainly  in  the  part 
of  Richard.     Richard  knows  that  he  is  guilty ;  knows,  also,  Boling- 
broke's  intentions,  but  makes  no  effort  to  meet  impending  ruin. 

146.  all  be  as  it  is.      "There  is  a  sort  of  fatalism  in  his  words 
which  gives  the  impression  that  he  can  hardly  be  quite  sane." 
(Ransome.)     Similarly  at  line  154. 

148-50.  Northumberland's  words  involuntarily  suggest  his  attitude 
to  the  king.  Richard  asks,  What  says  he?  expecting  some  apology. 
Northumberland  replies  in  effect:  'Nay,  his  last  greeting  is  that 
music  you  have  just  heard'. 

148.  A  line  divided  between  two  speakers  is  more  loosely  handled 
than  an  unbroken  line.     Abbott,  §  506. 

149.  The  image  of  i.  3.  162  repeated. 

152.  death,  the  state  of  being  dead,  as  commonly  in  Shakespeare. 
154.  See  note  to  line  145. 


138  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  II. 

156.  rug-headed  kerns.  h'ertt  is  a  phonetic  rendering  of  a 
Gaelic  name  for  'soldier',  and  was  used  in  E.  E.  for  the  native 
soldiery  of  the  west  of  Ireland.  In  2  Henry  Vf.  \\\.  \.  367  one  of 
them  is  also  referred  to  as  a  '  shag-hair'd  crafty  kern  ';  and  Spen- 
ser describes  them  as  having  borrowed  from  the  Scythians  the  cus- 
tom of  wearing  "  long  glibbes,  which  is  a  thicke  curled  bush  of 
heare  hanging  down  over  theyr  eyes,  and  monstrously  disguising 
them".  (Spenser,  View  of  the  Stale  of  Ireland,  Globe  edition,  p. 
630  :  referred  to  by  Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

157-8.  Since  all  other  venomous  things  had  been  banished  by  St. 
Patrick.  The  plural  'have',  though  strictly  the  predicate  of  venom, 
is  not  only  justified  but  almost  required  by  E.  £.  colloquial  grammar, 
after  'they'. 

159.  [Explain  for.] 

ask,  require.  This  is  its  commonest  O.  E.  meaning:  e.g.  feorh 
dfsian,  'to  demand  a  life'.  So  its  German  cognate  heitchen  —  de- 
mand. 

163.  "  There  is  scarcely  anything  in  Shakespeare  in  its  degree  more 
admirably  drawn  than  York's  character; — his  religious  loyalty  strug- 
gling with  a  deep  grief  and  indignation  at  the  king's  follies.  (Cole- 
ridye.)  Observe  how  differently  the  protests  of  the  two  brothers  are 
provoked.  York  is  kindled  by  a  family  wrong,  Gaunt  by  a  national 
disgrace. 

167-8.  Bolingbroke,  on  arriving  in  France,  had  been  well  received 
by  the  king,  Charles  VI.,  whose  cousin,  the  only  daughter  of  the  Due 
de  Berry,  he  was  about  to  marry,  when  Richard,  hearing  of  it,  sent 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury  to  France  with  a  list  of  imaginary  charges 
against  him,  and  a  plain  demand  that  the  French  king  should  not 
ally  himself  with  'so  manifest  an  offender'. — Note  that,  as  nothing 
is  said  of  all  this  in  the  play,  we  must  suppose  that  Shakespeare 
credited  his  audience  with  sufficient  knowledge  to  understand  the 
allusion. 

173.  This  line  is  an  example  of  the  construction  called  drd  *owoi", 
i.e.  in  which  one  subject  serves  for  tiiv  predicates  (was...,  raged...). 
Since  the  same  meaning  can  be  expressed  by  a  relative  (lwho  raged', 
&c.)  it  is  often  called,  inaccurately  (as  by  Abbott,  §  214),  the  'omission 
of  the  relative'.  Cf.  Kellner,  §  109-111. 

176.  His  face  thou  hast.      Richard's  character  has  effeminate 
elements;  but  this  comparison  shows  that  Shakespeare  does  not  con- 
ceive him  as  physically  a  weakling;  his  personal  beauty  is  of  a  mascu- 
line type. 

177.  accomplished,   'furnished',    'equipped';    hence   the   line 
means  '  of  your  age'. 

184  5.  York  here  breaks  down,  and  faintly  excuses  his  unwonted 
boldness  of  speech  as  an  involuntary  outburst  of  grief. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  139 

185.  compare  between,  used  absolutely  for  'to  draw  com- 
parisons' (in  which  the  king  is  involved). 

190.  royalties;  the  word  was  used  in  E.  E.  of  the  privileges  which 
belong  to  any  member  of  the  royal  house. 

195.  Note  this  vigorous  colloquial  form  of  hypothetical  sentence, 
equivalent  to  '  If  you  take  away  Hereford's  rights,  you  may  as  justly ', 
&c.  For  the  repetition  of  rights  cf.  v.  245. 

197.  ensue,  follow  upon. 

198.  Thus  York's  invective,  like  Gaunt's,  culminates  in  the  argu- 
ment that  Richard  had  virtually  annulled  the  very  conditions  of  his 
royal  power,  — in  the  one  case  by  resigning  his  legal  supremacy,  in 
the  other  by  repudiating  the  legal  right  of  succession  on  which  his 
own  title  rested. 

201.  A  parallel  conceit  probably  occurred  in  the  original  version 
of  Shakespeare'sy«//«j  Ciesar,  iii.  I.  47,  which  Ben  Jonson  ridicules 
in  the  form,  "Caesar  did  never  wrong  but  with  just  cause",  Dis- 
coveries, §  71. 

202-4.  As  a  special  favour  Bolingbroke  had  received  (by  letters- 
patent)  the  privilege  of  appointing  substitutes  (attorneys-general)  who 
were  authorized  to  claim  possession  in  his  name  of  any  bequest  or 
other  property  falling  to  him.  Richard  did,  in  effect,  '  call  in  these 
letters-patent',  i.e.  revoke  the  privilege,  with  the  approval  of  his  com- 
plaisant council,  on  March  1 8,  1399,  some  six  weeks  after  the  death 
of  Gaunt.  Holinshed,  however,  gives  no  indication  of  the  time  which 
elapsed. 

202.  letters-patents,  i.e.  open  to  inspection,  the  adj.  taking  a 
plural  termination  as  in  other  scraps  of  legal  French. 

203.  attorney-general,  "  he  that  by  general  authority  is  appointed 
to  act  in  all  our  affairs  or  suits".   (Cowel,  Law  Interpreter,  quoted 
by  Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

sue  his  livery,  to  apply  for  the  delivery  or  surrender  of  the 
heir's  lands  to  him  (or,  as  here,  to  his  substitute);  the  feudal  suzerain 
in  the  first  instance  resuming  possession  of  them  until  the  heir  had 
satisfactorily  proved  his  claim. 

204.  deny  his  offer'd  homage,  refuse  the  formal  act  of  homage 
which  was  part  of  the  process  of  delivery.     The  letters-patent  had 
allowed  this  to  be  'respited'  in  consideration  of  a  payment;  by  re- 
voking them  Richard  practically  rejected  it  altogether. 

213-4.  Cf.  note  to  line  70  above. 

217.  To  see  this  business.  See  used  absolutely  for  see  to.  So 
look  for  look  out,  cf.  note  to  i.  3.  243. 

To-morrow  next,  i.e.  at  (on)  the  next  morning.  To  has  here 
its  sense  of  rest  in  time,  as  \t\place.  Cf.  note,  i.  3.  244  above.  Skeat's 
explanation  s.v.  '  to-day'  is  wrong. 


140  KING    RICHARD   II  [Act  II. 

219  20.  Richard,  surpassing  himself  in  fatuous  self-confidence, 
chooses  as  hi*  delegate  the  very  man  who,  just  and  devoted  as  he  is, 
has  a  moment  t>efore  given  voice  to  the  indignation  of  his  country- 
men. Thus  the  first  or  active  part  of  his  career  (as  pictured  in  the 
play)  culminates  in  a  fatal  crime  followed  immediately  by  a  fatal 
blunder,  and  he  disappears  with  the  ominous  words,  "our  time  of 
.stay  is  short", — another  stroke  of  the  irony  noticed  at  i.  3.  48. 

222.  to-morrow,  &c.  Richard's  actual  departure  for  Ireland 
took  place  in  May;  he  landed  at  \Vaterford  June  1.  But  Holinshed's 
language  leaves  it  open  to  suppose  that  he  may  have  departed  at 
once  after  (Jaunt's  death. 

224.  Here  begins  the  counterplot,  i.e.  the  series  of  machinations 
which  work  for  the  arrest  and  frustration  of  the  flat,  i.t.  the  wild 
courses  of  Richard.  Both  Northumberland  and  the  other  adherents 
of  Bolingbroke  are  slightly  sketched ;  apart  from  Bolingbroke  him- 
self, the  detailed  portraits  of  the  play  belong  to  the  party  of  Richard. 
As  Kreyssig  suggests,  this  probably  shows  that  the  sequel  (//fnry 
IV.-Richard  111.),  where  the  party  of  Bolingbroke  is  treated  in  detail, 
was  already  in  contemplation.  Shakespeare  seems  in  the  present 
play  to  be  concerned  simply  "  to  show  in  the  most  graphic  and  con- 
crete way  the  inevitableness  of  the  cata-strophe,  the  untenableness  of 
the  existing  state  of  things... The  relative  justification  of  the  new 
order  [the  rule  of  the  House  of  Lancaster]  required  to  be  proved  by 
showing  the  rottenness  of  the  old,  if  the  sequel  [the  \\ars  of  the 
Roses]  was  to  have  its  full  measure  of  tragic  interest"  [which  it  would 
not  have  if  Bolingbroke  were  taken  for  a  mere  ambitious  usurper]. 

226.  It  is  not  the  humiliation  of  England  but  the  wrong  done  to 
one  of  their  own  order  that  finally  provokes  these  nobles  to  the  point 
of  active  revolt.  It  is  notable  that  the  death  of  Gloucester  is  not 
referred  to. 

228.  My  heart   is  great,  with  feelings  craving  to  be  uttered. 
\n  Julius  Ctesar,  iii.  I.  281,   "thy  heart  is  big"  is  used  of  feeling 
that  prompts  not  utterance  but  tears. 

229.  liberal,  free,  unrestrained. 
239.  moe,  more.     See  Glossary. 

241-2.  These  words  well  "show  the  attitude  of  mind  which  the 
English  always  attempted  to  preserve  as  long  as  possible  towards  an 
erring  king  ..This  is  precisely  the  sentiment  which  sent  Gaveston  to 
his  doom  on  Blacklow  Hill,  and  placed  the  executions  of  Stratford 
and  Laud  before  that  of  Charles  I.".  (Ransome.) 

242.  will  in  this  dependent  sentence  has  approximately  its  original 
force,   'desire'  ('whatever  they  choose  to  inform'),  in  the  principal 
sentence  (244)  it  is  a  pure  mark  of  the  future  tense. 

243.  Merely  in  hate,  '  out  of  pure  hatred'. 


Scene  i.J  NOTES.  141 

246-8.  No  manipulation  of  this  much-discussed  passage  can  make 
it  quite  satisfactory,  nor  has  any  admissible  emendation  been  proposed, 
(i)  To  omit  'quite'  in  247  adjusts  the  metre,  but  the  antithesis  thus 
introduced  between  "lost  their  hearts"  and  "quite  lost  their  hearts" 
(248)  is  irritatingly  flat.  (2)  Abbott's  scansion  of  248  as  "For 
ancient  quarr'ls  and  quite  lost  the-ir  hearts"  is  technically  just  possible, 
but  the  verse  thus  violently  saved  is  utterly  un-Shakespearian.  It  is 
to  be  noted  that  Ross  and  the  other  speakers  are  so  far  only  enumer- 
ating instances  of  the  king's  misgovernment;— the  popular  disaffec- 
tion is  referred  to  only  as  its  natural  result;  the  emphasis  is  therefore 
upon  commons — grievous  taxes,  nobles— ancient  quarrels,  the  "and 
quite  lost  their  hearts"  being  added,  as  it  were,  enclitically.  Cf. 
the  repetition  of  rights  in  lines  195,  6.  But  the  rhythm  of  line  247 
remains  very  rough. 

253.  "The  allusion  here  is  to  the  treaty  which  Richard  made  with 
Charles  VI.  of  France  in  1393."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

250.  benevolences,  pronounced  without  the  final  s.  Cf.  Abbott, 
§  471. — This  name  (which  soon  became  ironical)  for  a  forced  loan  was 
first  introduced  under  Edward  IV.  in  1473. 

254.  ancestors.     The  Folios  omit  noble,  which  is  of  interest  as 
showing  that  the  present  verse  of  1593  did  not  satisfy  all  the  critical 
ears  of  1623.     But  the  quasi-Alexandrines  of  this  type  cannot  all 
be  explained  away.     See  Prosody,  III.  §  3  (ii). 

258.  A  singular  verb  is  often  used  in  E.  E.  after  two  nouns  (i) 
where  these  stand  for  a  single  conception,  or  for  two  things  not  meant 
to  be  thought  apart;  (2)  it  is  sometimes  attracted  to  the  number  of 
the  nearer  subst.  just  as  the //;/;-«/  often  occurs  after  a  plur.  subst.  in 
the  same  way.  The  old  Northern  plur.  in  -es  may  have  contributed 
to  bring  the  idiom  about;  but  it  is  not  to  be  thought  that  Shake- 
speare used  any  forms  in  -elk  or  -es  as  plurals. 

263.  This  fine  use  of  sing  is  very  old.  In  O.  E.  poetry  it  is  used 
of  the  crash  of  sword  upon  armour  in  battle  (setf  byrne  sang  gryreleo'&a 
sum,  'the  coat  of  mail  sang  a  direful  lay',  Byrhtnoth),  of  the 
ominous  howling  of  the  eagle  and  the  wolf,  &c. 

265.  sit,  not  a  metaphor  from  the  posture  of  'sitting',  but  a  sur- 
vival of  an  old  sense  now  nearly  obsolete.     In  O.  E.  it  may  be  used 
of  whatever  presses  or  oppresses  another  thing  (e.g.  of/ear,  guilt,  &c.). 
Cf.  the  contemporary  phrase  "  tongues. ..sat  upon  each  of  them"  of 
the  English  Bible. 

sore,  grievously,  heavily. 

266.  securely,  as  usual  in  E.E.,  'heedlessly',  '  careless  of  danger'. 
Strike,  'i.e.  'furl  our  sails',  but  probably  with  a  covert  reference  to 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word. 

268.  unavoided, unavoidable.  The  suffix  -ed'm  past  participles  had 
in  E.  E.  gone  far  to  acquire  the  sense  of '  what  may  be  done 'in  addition 
(858)  K 


142  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

to  that  of  'what  has  been  done*.  For  the  most  part  this  heightened 
meaning  occurs  in  combination  with  a  rug atrve  prefix  (unnumbered  — 
innumerable.  unfmsJ,  unva/ueii,  &c. ),  and  probably  the  transition 
first  took  place  in  these,  since  it  is  easier  to  pass  from  what  hat  not 
been  to  ;.•//,//  may  not  be  (non-existence  being  common  to  both)  than 
from  :,'/><»/  has  been  to  what  may  be  (the  latter  suggesting  non-exist- 
ence, while  tin-  former  implies  existence). 

270.  When  Death  is  personified  by  Shakespeare  it  is  always  in  the 
form  of  the  hkeleton, — trie  grim  medixv.il  fancy,  stamped  afresh  upon 
the  imagination  of  modern  Kurope  by  the  famous  engravings  of  the 
Dance  of  Death. 

280.  As  Holinshed  expressly  says  that  the  person  who  'broke  from 
the  Duke  of  Exeter's',  i.e.  escaped  from  his  house,  was  the  son  of 
Richard  Earl  of  Arundel,  whose  brother  was  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, it  is  unlikely  that  Shakespeare  meant  line  281  to  refer  to  Cobham; 
and,  since  Malone,  it  has  been  assumed  that  a  line  has  been  lost 
equivalent  to  'The  son  of  Richard  Karl  of  Arundel '.  Of  course  this 
would  be  quite  unjustified,  however  glaring  the  historical  blunder,  if 
Shakespeare's  authority  were  less  explicit,  or  if  he  could  be  supposed 
to  have  deliberately  diverged  from  it. 

284.  Strings  of  names  are  commonly  allowed  by  Shakespeare, 
with  fine  instinct,  to  partially  interrupt  or  impair  the  regular  verse- 
rhythm.  Such  catalogues  are  essentially  prosaic,  and  accord  best 
with  an  openly  prosaic  form  of  speech. 

286.  Holinshed  mentions,  without  deciding  between  them,  two 
conflicting  reports,  according  to  one  of  which  Bolingbroke  landed 
with  only  fifteen  lances,  while  the  other  represented  the  Duke  of 
Britaigne  as  having  "deliuered  unto  hym  three  thousand  men  of  warre 
...and  that  he  had  viii  ships  well  furnished  for  the  warre  ".     The 
second,  whether  true  or  not,  was  clearly  the  more  fit  to  be  put 
into  the  mouth  of  Northumberland  at  this  crisis.     Even  Ross  and 
Willoughby  might  have  shrunk  from  joining  a  handful  of  returned 
exiles. 

tall.     See  Glossary. 

287.  expedience,  expedition,  swiftness. 

290.  stay  the  first  departing.  First  is  here  not  an  adj.,  but 
an  adverb  to  the  verb  implied  in  departing:  'wait  till  the  king  has 
first  departed':  E.  E.  has  far  greater  freedom  in  this  idiom  than  Md. 
E. ;  but  cf.  'an  early  riser*. 

292.  Imp,  'piece  out',  properly  'graft  upon ',  used  technically,  in 
hawking,  of  the  process  of  attaching  new  feathers  to  a  maimed  wing. 
See  Glossary. 

293.  broking,  here  a  verbal  noun  loosely  used  as  an  adj.      A 
broker  was  properly  an  intermediary  or  gv-betiiten,  who  arranged 
bargains,  \c.     In  E.  E.  it  was  applied  especially  to  the  most  shame- 
ful kind  of  traffic,  hence  the  scorn  with  which  it  is  used  here. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  143 

294.  In  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iii.  3.  179,  Shakespeare  uses  this 
image  again,  "And  give  to  dust  that  is  a  little  gilt  More  laud  than 
gilt  o'erdusted". 

296.  Ravenspurgh,  a  busy  seaport  up  to  the  fifteenth  century, 
since  destroyed  by  the  sea.  It  was  on  the  lower  Humber  between 
Hull  and  Bridlington. 

300.  Hold  out  my  horse,  '  if  my  horse  hold  out ',  the  subjunctive 
which  puts  a  supposed  case. 

Scene  2. 

The  last  scene  having  disclosed  the  germs  of  the  national  revolution, 
the  present  shows,  with  pitiful  clearness,  the  impotence  of  the 
authority  it  assails.  Richard  has  alienated  the  strong  men,  and  his 
government,  left  at  the  mercy  of  low-born  favourities,  of  an  aged 
uncle  whom  he  has  deeply  offended,  and  of  a  young  and  tender-hearted 
queen,  crumbles  to  the  ground  at  the  mere  rumour  of  revolt.  Shake- 
speare takes  no  pains  to  arouse  the  interest  of  suspense;  he  rather 
strives  to  let  us  foresee  the  inevitable  ruin,  and  accumulates  all  the 
symptoms-of  coming  disaster.  The  queen  is  full  of  dark  forebodings, 
Bushy  and  Green  part,  foreseeing  that  they  will  never  meet  again, 
York  goes  hopelessly  forth  to  his  task  of  'numbering  sands  and 
drinking  oceans  dry'. — The  rapid  accomplishment  of  the  revolution, 
however,  leaves  the  canvas  free  for  the  detailed  exhibition  of 
Richard's  bearing  in  misfortune,  and  it  is  just  this  that  Shake- 
speare has  at  heart.  As  Hazlitt  says,  "the  weakness  of  the  king 
leaves  us  leisure  to  take  a  greater  interest  in  the  misfortunes  of  the 
man  ". 

The  scene  intended  is  probably  Windsor,  where,  according  to 
Holinshed,  the  parting  of  the  king  and  queen  occurred. 

1-40.  This  part  of  the  scene  is  wholly  original. 

I.  too  much  sad;  the  use  of  nmch  in  E.  E.  as  an  adv.  with  adj. 
probably  arose  from  its  use  with  participles  (e.g.  'too  much  grieved'), 
where  it  represents  the  instrumental  case,  =  nut/to. 

8,  9.  "The  amiable  part  of  Richard's  character  is  brought  full 
upon  us  by  his  queen's  few  words."  (Coleridge.)     "In  this  scene 
Shakespeare  begins  the  process  of  building  up  in  his  audience  a  new 
feeling  of  pity  for  the  erring  king.     The  first  step  towards  this  is  to 
excite  our  pity  for  the  innocent  queen.     In  her  mouth  he  is  'sweet 
Richard'."  (Ransome.) — Note  the  value  of  the  softening  touch  in  this 
place,  when  the  final  speech  of  Northumberland  has  just  presented 
Richard's  misdeeds  in  one  overwhelming  indictment. 

9,  10.  Shakespeare  freely  foreshadows  his  disasters  with  mysterious 
premonitions;  sometimes,  as  here  and  in  the  opening  lines  of  the 
Merchant  of  Venice,  as  a  '  melancholy '  which  the  subject  of  it  cannot 
explain,  sometimes  as  \njulius  Ceesar  (cf.  Hamlet,  i.  I)  andii.  4.  7 
below,  in  the  cruder  form  of  '  portents '. 


144  KIN<;    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

12.  some  thing.  The  accent  is  now  always  on  the  some;  but 
Shakespeare  could  lay  it  on  the  second  syllable.  This  is  probably 
intended  in  Komeo  and  Juliet,  v.  3.  8:  "As  signal  that  thou  hear*st 
some  thing  approach"  ;  and  also  in  Merchant  of  Venice,  i.  I.  129.  So, 
jomfivhdt  beside  somewhat. 

14.  shadows,  not  'shades',  but  '(illusory^  images'.     The  word 
was  often  used  for  a  portrait,  and  contrasted  with  substance,  as  here. 
Cf.,   for  instance,   Merchant  of  Venice,   iii.  2.    127,    "how  far  the 
substance  of  my  praise  doth  wrong  this  shadow  (Portia's  portrait), 
so  far  this  shadow  doth  limp  behind  the  substance".    C'f.  also  below, 
iv.  i.  292. 

15.  shows;  a  singular  verb  often  follows  the  relative  in  spite  of  a 
plural  antecedent.     Abbott,  §  247. 

18.  perspective  in  E.  E.  was  a  general  term  for  various  arti- 
ficial means  of  producing  optical  illusion,  and  hence  generally  for 
the  infant  science  of  optics.  Thus  in  All's  Well,  v.  3.  48,  a  con- 
temptuous gaze  is  compared  to  a  'perspective*  "which  warp'd 
the  line  of  every  other  favour";  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  The 
Lover's  Progress,  iii.  6,  lies  are  said,  "like  perspectives"  (i.e.  like 
telescopes),  to  "draw  offences  nearer  still  and  greater"  (quoted  Cl. 
Pr.  edd.).  But  it  was  specially  applied  to  a  kind  of  relief  in  which 
the  surface  was  so  modelled  as  to  produce,  when  seen  from  the  side, 
the  impression  of  a  continuous  picture,  which,  when  seen  from  the 
front,  disappeared.  The  term  '  perspective'  was  applied  on  account 
of  the  illusion  involved,  although  this  was  not  here  due  to  glass  or  a 
lens.  Plot's  Natural  History  of  Staffordshire  (quoted  by  Staunton) 
describes  among  the  treasures  of  Gerards  Bromley  there  "the  pictures 
of  Henry  the  great  of  France  and  his  queen,  both  upon  the  same  in- 
dented board,  which  if  beheld  directly,  you  only  perceive  a  confused 
piece  of  work  ;  but  if  obliquely,  of  one  side  you  see  the  king's  and  on 
the  other  the  queen's  picture".  Another  variety  of  fersfeclh-es  is 
described  in  Jonson's  Alchemist,  iii.  2 — 

"He'll  show  a  perspective,  where  on  one  side 

You  shall  behold  the  faces  and  the  persons 

Of  all  sufficient  young  heirs  in  town  ". 

Cf.  also  Twelfth  Night,  v.  I.  223— 

"  One  face,  one  voice,  one  habit,  and  two  persons, 
A  natural  perspective  that  is,  and  is  not' . 

rightly,  directly;  but  with  the  further  suggestion  of 'correctly', 
it  being  implied  that  the  view  of  the  situation  in  which  no  'shapes  of 
grief '  were  seen,  is  the  true  one. 

20.  Distinguish  form,  'show  distinct  forms',  i.e.  the  illusory 
images  of  line  17. 

30-32.  so  heavy  sad,  &c. ,  '  so  sad  that  though,  in  my  thoughtful 
abstraction  I  conceive  no  positive  thought,  I  am  yet  oppressed  by 
this  unsubstantial  grief.' 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  145 

34.  nothing  less,  i.e.  anything  rather  than  (conceit). 

34-8.  The  queen's  fantastic  speculations  about  her  grief  are  in 
harmony  with  its  indefinite  and  unsubstantial  nature.  She  distin- 
guishes with  some  subtlety  between  (i)  an  imagined  grief  (conceit), 
which  is  the  partial  survival  or  imperfect  reproduction  of  an  actual 
grief,  the  thought  of  its  cause  6utlasting  the  emotion  (cf.  Hoffding, 
Psychology,  p.  241),  and  (2)  a  real  but  unexplained  grief,  which  is  pure 
emotion  without  any  perception  of  cause,  and  so  either  causeless, — 
'  nothing  hath  begot  my  something  grief ;  or  else  with  a  cause  which 
is  yet  to  be  disclosed ;  '  the  grief  I  feel  but  cannot  name  already 
affects  something  else,  from  which  it  will  pass  by  reversion  to  me '. 

48.  strongly,  as  a  military  term,  'with  a  large  force'. 

52.  that  is  worse,  'what  is  worse' ;  that  being  the  demonstrative, 
used  as  often  without  a  relative. 

57.  This  line  appears  in  all  the  Quartos  after  the  first,  and  in  all 
the  Folios,  as  '  And  all  the  rest  of  the  (that)  revolted,  &c.'.  It  is 
nevertheless  idiomatic  if  somewhat  old-fashioned  Elizabethan  Eng- 
lish. Cf.  the  use  of  other,  one:  "Was  reckoned  one  the  wisest  prince 
that  there  had  reigned",  Henry  VIII.  ii.  4.  48:  "other  her  gentyll 
women"  (Caxton). 

58-9.  The  Earl  of  Worcester  was  Thomas  Percy,  brother  of  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  Lord  Steward  of  the  King's  House- 
hold. The  white  staff  was  his  sign  of  office.  Holinshed  only  says 
that  the  household  servants  'dispersed',  not  that  they  joined  Boling- 
broke.  The  change  was  in  accord  witji  the  general  intention  of  this 
scene ;  cf.  introductory  note  above. 

Worcester,  three  syllables,  as  in  /  Henry  lV.\.-$.  15  ;  iii.  I.  5 
(elsewhere  two);  and  'Gloucester'  in  /  Henry  VI.  i.  3.  4,  &c. 

63.  Cf.  line  10. 

64.  prodigy  was  used  for  (i)  any  portent;  (2)  especially  a  mon- 
strous birth,  as  here. 

66.  The  newly  discovered,  definite  sorrow  is  added  to  her  former 
sorrowful  state,  in  which  sad  foreboding  was  blended  with  the  pang 
of  separation  from  Richard. 

68.  Cf.  this  with  the  king's  petulant  outburst,  iii.  2.  204-5.  Can 
you  discover  any  difference  in  the  motives  which  prompt  each  to 
court  'despair'? 

72.  lingers;  the  word  is  both  transitive  and  intransitive  in  E.  E. 
It  is  probably  a  i6th  century  coinage  from  leng-en,  'to  lengthen', 
yhich  represents  it  in  M.  E. 

74.  signs  of  war  is  defined  by  the  local  description :  it  means 
the  mail-gorget  or  throat-piece. 

75.  of  careful  business,  of  anxious  preoccupation.     Both  'care- 
ful' and  'busy'  have  in  Md. E.  (like  work]  lost  almost  all  the 


146  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  II. 

which  in  O.  E.  and  M.  E.  belonged  to  them, — O.  E.  cearu  meaning 
'sorrow',  while  wore,  often,  and  bysig and  the  subst.  bysgu  usually, 
refer  to  painful  kinds  of  activity. 

76.   Uncle.     See  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (iii). 

80.  Your  husband,  he.  This  idiom,  familiar  in  popular  poetry 
of  all  periods,  is  due  to  the  prominence  in  the  speaker's  mind  of 
some  one  member  of  the  sentence  (here  the  subject),  which  thus 
breaks  loose,  as  it  were,  from  the  texture  of  the  thought  and  emerges 
as  an  isolated  idea,  the  complete  sentence  follow  ing,  with  a  pronoun 
to  represent  the  phrase  already  detached.  For  instances  cf.  Abbott, 
§  243  ;  also  Kellner,  §  73. 

87.  York's  timid  fatalism  may  be  compared  with  the  dogged  fatalism 
of  Richard,  ii.  i.  146. 

95.  to  report;  cf.  note  on  i.  3.  244. 

96.  knave  is  a  familiar  and  kindly  mode  of  address  to  an  inferior, 
somewhat  like  the  modern  '  lad*.     It  can  be  even  tender,  as  in  the 
pathetic  words  of  Antony  to  Eros  as  he  arms  him  for  his  last  battle: 
"Here  I  am  Antony,  Yet  cannot  hold  this  visible  shape,  my  knave", 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iv.  14.  13. 

98.  There  is  an  ellipsis  probably  of  '  I  pray*. 

98-122.  York's  helpless  agitation  is  emphasized  by  the  broken 
and  irregular  form  of  these  lines.  The  suggestion  that  they  are 
meant  for  prose  (Cl.  Pr.  edd. )  is  inadmissible,  continuous  prose 
nowhere  occurring  in  Richard  II.  or  King  John.  The  great  variety 
of  the  rhythms  scattered  through  this  play  makes  it  probable  that 
Shakespeare  was  trying  the  experiment  of  making  metre  as  well  as 
style  dramatic.  Cf.  note  to  i.  3.  249-50.  Even  in  his  maturest 
work  he  often  uses  half  lines  with  this  end.  [Look  out  for  other  in- 
stances of  this.]  York's  perplexity  has  three  distinct  grounds  which 
emerge  confusedly  in  his  embarrassed  thought :  (i)  the  practical 
difficulties — want  of  money  and  means;  (2)  the  fact  that  he  is  equally 
near  of  kin  to  both  parties;  (3)  the  sense  that  the  whole  situation 
is  but  a  Nemesis  upon  Richard's  guilt. 

101.  I.e.  'provided  no  disloyalty  of  mine  had  provoked  him  to  it*. 
E.  E.  freely  uses  the  possessives  to  describe  something  not  actually 
or  frosfectirely  belonging  to  the  subject,  but  only  conceh'ably.  Md. 
E.  uses  them  only  in  the  former  cases  (I  can  speak,  e.g.,  of  'my 
death '  before  it  happens,  because  it  is  certain,  but  not  of  '  my  ill- 
ness', &c.,  unless  of  one  past).  This  is  a  survival  of  the  wider 
gsnitive  sense  of  the  later  'possessives';  O.  E.  min=toi,  concerning 
me'. 

no.  thrust  disorderly  is  Steevens'  alteration  for  disorderly 
thrust  of  the  old  edd.,  but  is  not  absolutely  necessary. 

112-3.  Th' one...  th' other.  This  reading  of  the  First  Folio  (the 
Quartos  give/' one ...(' other)  is  kept  here  for  the  sake  of  the  verse — 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  147 

hopelessly  disguised  by  the  change  to  the  one  ...the  other  usually  made 
by  modern  editors.     See  Prosody,  I.  §  4  (i). 

122.  six  and  seven,  already  proverbial  for  'confusion', — the 
idea  probably  being  that  of  a  mixture  of  things  sufficiently  like  to 
be  mistaken,  but  actually  of  opposite  kinds  (odd  and  even).  Bacon 
uses  the  phrase  to  introduce  a  pun  upon  that  of  Sixtus  the  Fifth : 
"a  fierce  thundering  friar,  that  would  set  all  at  six  and  seven;  or  at 
six  and  five  if  you  allude  to  his  name".  {Considerations  touching  a 
War  with  Spain,  quoted  by  Delius.) 

127-8.  [Give  the  exact  sense  of  this.] 

129.  Similarly,  the  Second  Murderer  in  Richard  III.  (i.  4.  130) 
says  that  his  conscience  is  in  Richard's  purse. 

133.  '  If  they  are  to  be  judges  of  the  matter,  we  are  condemned 
also.' 

138.  hateful,  active,  '  full  of  hate'.     Cf.  Kellner,  §  250. 

142.  presages.  The  word  occurs  with  stress  on  first  syllable  in 
King  John,  i.  I.  28,  iii.  4.  158,  as  in  Md.  E.  On  variable  stress  in 
E.E.  see  Prosody,  II. 

Scene  3. 

This  scene  stands  in  dramatic  contrast  to  the  last.  There, 
agitation,  foreboding,  and  confusion;  here,  the  quiet  advance  of  a 
resolute  man  to  his  goal. 

2-1 8.  The  outspoken  devotion  of  Northumberland  to  Bolingbroke 
becomes  dramatic  in  view  of  his  subsequent  rebellion,  and  Shake- 
speare has  doubtless  emphasized  it  with  that  end.  Note  especially 
the  unconscious  irony  of  Percy's  assurances,  lines  41-4. 

5.  The  'wild  hills'  and  'rough  ways'  are  thought  of,  not  as 
separate  and  distinct  features  of  the  country,  but  as,  together,  ex- 
pressing its  general  character.  The  singular  verb  might,  however, 
be  used  in  E.  E.  even  with  undoubted  plurals. 

7.  delectable.  This  survival  of  the  common  M.  E.  accentuation 
is  the  exception  in  E.  E.,  the  accent  of  a  derivative  usually  following 
that  of  the  simple  word.  Other  cases  are  detestable,  stipportable;  and 
we  still  say  cdmfortable.  See  Prosody,  II.  §  2. 

12.  tediousness  and  process,  for  'tedious  process':  two  quali- 
ties of  a  substantive  being  expressed  by  two  substantives,  one  of 
which  is  psychologically  an  adjective,  though  grammatically  a  noun. 

15,  16.  hope  to  joy. ..hope  enjoy'd.  Hope  is,  first,  the 
emotion  or  state  of  hope;  second,  the  object  hoped  for.  Similarly, 
grief  may  be  either  the  feeling  or  its  source  (the  grievance).  This 
fluctuation  is  characteristic  of  the  imaginative  rather  than  logical 
quality  of  the  Elizabethan  mind,  which  dwelt  more  on  affinities  than 
on  differences,  and  tended  to  make  the  meaning  of  words  rich  and 
complex,  not  specific  and  definite. 


148  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  II. 

at.  Percy.  Probably  two  syllables,  as  elsewhere,  in  spite  of 
Abbott,  §  478.  Irregular  verse  is  especially  apt  to  occur  in  formal 
and  matter-of-fact  statements,  at  the  thinning  of  a  speech,  and  in 
connection  with  proper  names:  here  all  three  conditions  are  com- 
bined. 

24.  thought  ...to  have  learn'd;  cf.  Abbott,  §  360. 

33.  over,  one  syllable.  It  is  often  written  o'er  (o're,  ore),  but  must 
frequently  be  pronounced  so  even  when  written  in  full.  I'rosody,  I. 
§  4  (i"). 

41.  tender.     See  Glossary. 

45-50.  Compare  with  this  speech  Hotspur's  bitter  reference  to  it, 
/  Henry  IV.  \.  3.  251  — 

"  Why,  what  a  candy  deal  of  courtesy 
This  fawning  greyhound  then  did  proffer  me  ! 
Look,  'when  his  infant  fortune  came  to  age', 
And  'gentle  Harry  Percy',  and  'kind  cousin': 
O,  the  devil  take  such  cozeners  !"  &c. 

Bolingbroke  throughout  bears  himself  with  a  certain  dignified 
reserve,  leaving  it  to  others  to  carry  on  the  less  essential  passages 
of  dialogue,  while  he  himself  intervenes  only  at  the  decisive  crises. 
Thus  the  conversations,  lines  21-40,  51-58,  and  137-161,  are  carried 
on  before  him,  but  not  by  him ;  but  he  comes  forward  to  welcome 
Percy,  Ross,  and  \\illoughby,  and  to  confront  York.  Both  in 
Richard  and  in  Bolingbroke  the  kingly  bearing  is  in  some  degree 
self-conscious  and  artificial;  but  Richard  achieves  it  by  sheer 
rhetorical  talent,  by  command  of  eloquent  and  dignified  phrase ; 
Bolingbroke  by  astuteness  and  tact,  enforcing  and  utilizing  his 
genuine  dignity  and  massiveness  of  character. 

55.  Seymour,  "Richard  de  St.  Maur,  1355-1401".  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

61.  unfelt,  i.e.  impalpable,  intangible,  not  yet  taking  the  material 
form  of  rewards.  [What  is  the  antecedent  of  'which'?] 

63-7.  Both  the  deferential  language  of  Ross  and  Willoughby,  and 
Bolingbroke's  reply,  betray  the  tacit  assumption  of  the  whole  party 
that  Bolingbroke  is  not  come  merely,  as  he  tells  York,  'to  seek  his 
own'. 

70.  Contrast  this  dignified  insistance  upon  his  just  title,  with 
Richard's  wayward  and  petulant  surrender  of  his. 

75.  Probably  a  sarcastic  play  upon  the  words  title  and  tittle  is 
intended ;  Capell  proposed  to  read  tittle  in  this  place.  Both  words 
are  derived  from  Lat.  titulus  through  M.  E.  titel,  and  in  E.  E.  the 
difference  of  pronunciation  (jtfitl,  titl)  was  slight  enough  to  permit  of 
the  pun. 

79.  absent  time,  good  E.  E.  for  '  time  of  absence'.  Cf.  i.  3.  oo, 
241. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  149 

80.  self-borne,  borne  for  oneself.  This  is  preferable  to  the  in- 
terpretation 'self-born'  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.),  'indigenous',  'homesprung', 
the  combination  of  'born'  with  arms  being  harsh,  of  'borne'  natural 
and  obvious.  Neither  compound  occurs  elsewhere,  'self  born'  in 
ll/lntei's  Tale,  iv.  I.  8,  being  two  words,  and  se(f—sa.me. 

84.  deceivable,  deceptive.  Cf.  Abbott,  §  445.  On  the  inter- 
change of  active  and  passive  sense  in  the  £.  E.  adj.  cf.  Kellner, 
§  250. 

86  f.  York,  encouraged  by  Bolingbroke's  astute  show  of  deference, 
attempts  to  cover  his  faltering  purpose  with  bold  words. 

87.  This  idiom  was  somewhat  homely  and  colloquial,  and  suits 
the  excited  blustering  manner  with  which  the  old  man  (not  in  reality 
quite  sixty)  begins  his  expostulation,  as  if  he  were  correcting  a  truant 
schoolboy.  Cf.  old  Capulet's  still  more  homely  outburst  (to  Juliet) : 
"Thank  me  no  thankings,  nor  proud  me  no  prouds",  £c.,  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  iii.  5.  153;  also  in  Peek's  Edward  L,  "Ease  me  no 
casings,  we  '11  ease  you  of  this  carriage  ". 

91.  a  dust,  a  particle  of  dust. 

92.  '  But  then  I  have  to  ask  further  questions.' 

94.  pale-faced,  proleptically,  as  the  result  of  fright. 

95.  despised,   probably  for  'despicable';  cf.    ii.    I.   268.     The 
epithet  is  at  first  surprising;  but  York's  whole  speech  is  a  curious 
mixture  of  two  contradictory  conceptions  of  the  situation,  between 
which  he  helplessly  fluctuates:  the  one,  that  Bolingbroke  is  the 
'  foolish  boy '  whom  he,  armed  with  the  power  of  the  '  anointed 
king',  is  taking  to  task;  the  other,  that  Bolingbroke  is  the  irresist- 
ible invader  at  whose  mercy  he  lives.     Thus  in  the  same  breath  he 
can  use  the  language  of  bluster  and  of  appeal,  and  protest  against 
the  terrifying  array  of  an  army  which,  from  his  pedestal  of  supreme 
authority,  he  at  the  same  time  loftily  disparages. 

100.  "  It  does  not  appear  that  Shakespeare  had  any  historical 
authority  for  this"  reminiscence.  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.)  This  gives  some 
plausibility  to  the  suggestion  of  the  same  editors  that  its  motive  was 
derived  from  the  speech  in  which  Nestor  similarly  recalls  the  prowess 
of  his  youth  (Iliad,  vii.  157).  Hall's  translation  was  published  in 
1581. 

104.  chastise.     Cf.  note  to  ii.  2.  142,  and  Prosody,  II.  §  2. 

107.  'On  what  quality  does  (my  fault)  depend,  and  in  what  does 
it  consist?'  The  two  clauses  express  the  same  thought  in  different 
terms;  in  the  first  stand  has  its  proper  sense ;  in  the  second,  as  often, 
it  is  an  emphatic  variant  of  is.  Condition  was  used  especially  of 
personal  characteristics  (it  has  here  nothing  to  do  with  'express 
compact',  as  the  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  suggest). 

112.  braving,  defiant,  as  in  line  143. 


150  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  II. 

113-136.  Bolingbroke's  speech  plays  dexterously  upon  the  old 
man's  most  sensitive  points— his  reverence  for  law  and  order,  his 
hidden  tenderness  for  his  nephew,  his  love  for  his  son,  and  his  family 
pride— newly  lacerated  by  the  ignominious  sale  of  (jaunt's  posses- 
sions. 

116.  indifferent,  impartial,  without  bias  for  or  against. 

128.  A  metaphor  from  hunting:  the  'wrongs'  are  the  quarry, 
'roused',  pursued,  and  driven  'to  the  bay',  i.e.  'to  the  last  extremity*. 

138.  stands  . . .  upon,  i.e.  'incumbent  upon",  a  frequent  E.  K.  idiom. 
It  is  notable  that  the  preposition  'upon  here  regularly  follows  the 
object. 

145.  [Point  out  the  distinction  between  this  image  and  that  of  line 
128.] 

154.  ill  left,  left  (by  the  king)  in  an  inadequate  condition.  We 
have  another  example  of  the  versatile  force  of  /'//  in  composition,  in 
'  ill-erected',  v.  1.2. 

156.  attach,  arrest.     See  Glossary. 

163.  Under  a  show  of  deference  York  is  virtually  arrested. 

165.  As  the  next  scene  shows,  Shakespeare  did  not  mean  to  depart 
from  Holinshed's  statement  that  Kagot  was  not  in  the  castle,  but  had 
previously  escaped  (according  to  ii.  2.  141)  to  Ireland.  He,  Bushy, 
and  Green  had  been  continually  associated  as  leaders  of  the  gang  of 
royal  favourites;  Bolingbroke  names  them  as  standing  for  the  faction 
which  held  the  castle  for  the  king.  The  carelessness  of  the  statement 
adds  to  the  impression  of  insignificance  made  by  these  men,  whose 
characters  are  very  slightly  sketched.  It  did  not  greatly  matter 
whether  Bagot  was  there  or  not. 

170-1.  Cf.  lines  158-9.  York  will  be  neutral  and  'welcome*  the 
new-comers, 'provided  they  meet  him  on  the  same  terms,  'nor  friends 
nor  foes'.  The  previous  and  following  lines  indicate  his  motives. 
He  will  not  'go  with  them',  for  that  would  be  'to  break  his  country's 
laws';  nor  against  them,  for  that  would  be  to  strive  to  undo  things 
which,  being  'past  redress',  ought  to  be  'past  care'. 

Scene  4. 

This  brief  scene  shows  the  ruin  of  Richard's  last  hope  by  the  defec- 
tion of  the  Welsh  army  (40,000  strong,  according  to  Holinshed) 
which  Salisbury  had  collected  on  his  behalf.  Military  events  only 
become  in  the  strict  sense  dramatic  when  they  illustrate  the  character 
of  those  concerned  in  the  drama.  But  Shakespeare  freely  ignores 
this  law  in  the  ffistories  (not  in  the  Tragedies) ;  and  he  touches  very 
slightly  on  the  one  dramatic  element  of  the  present  scene, — the  fact 
that  the  dispersion  of  the  army  was  ultimately  due  to  Richard's  fatal 
want  of  practical  instinct,  which  allowed  him  to  loiter  idly  in  Ireland 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  151 

when  his  presence  was  imperatively  needed  at  home.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  has  expanded  into  a  rich  and  splendid  picture  Holinshed's 
hint  of  the  immediate  cause  of  the  dispersion,  viz.  the  rumour  of 
Richard's  death.  The  'rumour'  becomes  the  fruit  of  one  of  those 
seasons  of  dread  portents  which  in  Shakespeare  habitually  '  blaze 
forth  the  death  of  princes'. 

8.  Holinshed  mentions  among  other  portents  that  "old  baie  trees 
withered",  but  only  in  the  second  edition  (1586). 

ii.  lean-look'd,  like  'pale-faced',  'lean-faced',  &c.;  i.e.  look  is 
the  noun,  not  the  verb. 

24.  crossly,  adversely  to,  athwart.  Thus  this  act  of  foreboding, 
which  had  opened  with  the  prophetic  curse  of  Gaunt,  closes  with  the 
bitter  lament  of  Salisbury  as  the  last  hope  ebbs  away. 


Act  III.— [The  Capture.] 
Scene  I. 

The  general  subject  of  this  act,  the  capture  of  Richard,  is  fitly 
preluded  by  the  summary  arrest  and  execution  of  his  underlings. 
The  first  scene  symbolizes  what  is  to  follow.  "  With  rare  ingenuity 
Shakespeare  makes  the  scene  an  opportunity  to  show  the  true  king- 
liness  of  Bolingbroke's  character.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  dignity 
of  his  address  to  the  fallen  minions,  at  whose  door,  according  to 
traditional  English  practice,  he  places  the  whole  guiltiness  of  Richard." 
(Ransome.)  The  judicial  dignity  of  Bolingbroke's  harangue  to 
Richard's  favourites  should  be  compared  with  the  savage  hunting- 
down  of  Gaveston  in  Marlowe's  Edward  II. 

3.  part,  rare  in  this  sense  of  'part  from'.     Cf.  Abbott,  §  198. 

4.  urging,  common  in  E.E.  in  the  rhetorical  sense  ot  forcing  or 
emphasizing  a  particular  topic  or  argument. 

9.  I.c.  ' happy  (well-endowed)  in  blood  ami  lineaments  (outward 
aspect) '.     This  bold  separation  of  the  adjective  and  its  determinants 
is  a  characteristic  idiom  of  E.E.,  far  less  familiar  to  M.E.,  though 
not  unknown.     Cf.  Kellner,  §  466. 

10.  unhappied;  cf.  'undeaf,  ii.  I.  16. 
clean,  sheer,  entirely. 

11-15.  This  charge  is  of  course  unhistorical,  the  queen  being  (as 
Shakespeare  well  knew)  not  yet  ten  years  old.  But  Bolingbroke,  in 
thus  becoming  her  champion,  acquires  an  air  of  chivalrous  magna- 
nimity quite  in  harmony  with  Shakespeare's  view  of  his  character. 
Cf.  his  care  for  her  'entreatment'  (line  37).  Thus  the  felicitous 


152  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  III. 

creation  of  the  queen  is  made   to  add  colour  and   richness  to  the 
portraits  of  lx>th  Richard  and  Boliogbroke. 

ii.  in  manner,  more  usually  'in  a  manner',  i.e.  'in  some  sort'. 

20.  This  hold  conceit  is  best  illustrated  by  its  nearly  contemporary 
parallel  in  Romeo  ami  Juliet,  \.  I.   139,   "  With  tears  augmenting  the 
Ircsh  morning's  dew,  Adding  to  clouds  more  clouds  with  his  deep 
sighs". 

21.  The  striking  resemblance  of  this  to  Dante's  description  of  his 
exile  (as  prophesied  by  Cacciaguida,  Paradno  xvii,  58  f.)  is  probably 
accidental,  "Tu  proverai  si  come  sa  di  sale  Lo  pane  altrui    ('Thou 
shalt  rind  how  salt  is  the  taste  of  another  man's  bread'). 

22.  signories,  manors,  lordships.     See  Glossary. 

23.  Dispark'd.     A  park  is  technically  a  '  place  of  privilege  for 
l>easts  of  the  chase',  legally  inclosed.     To  'dispark'  a  park  was  to 
destroy  the  inclosures  and  throw  it  open. 

24.  I.e.  broken  from  my  windows  my  coat  of  arms  blazoned  in  the 
painted  glass. 

25.  imprese.     See  Glossary. 

29.  to  the  death,  an  archaism  in  keeping  with  the  solemnity  of 
the  sentence.  In  M.  E.,  as  a  rule,  death  takes  the  article  when  it  is 
not  personified,  and  no  article  when  it  is.  But  usage  fluctuated  much. 
Thus  tlie  deth  is  personified  in  "  lifter  the  deth  she  cryed  a  thousand 
sythe"  (cried  for  death),  Chaucer,  ed.  Morris,  vol.  iv.  330;  and  not 
personified  in  "  We  han  the  deth  deserved  bothe  tuo",  ib.  ii.  53. 
The  phrase  in  the  text  was  also  used,  "V*  sorweful  man,  ydampncd 
to  the  deth"  (I  sorrowful  man,  condemned  to  death),  ib.  v.  339. 
Cf.  Einenkel,  Streifziige  dutch  die  Mittelenglische  Syntax,  p.  2. 

38.  commends,  compliments.     So  iii.  3.  126. 

41.  love  in  E. E.  is  often  merely  'kindly  disposition'. 

43.  "Owen  Glendower  of  Conway  ...  was  in  attendance  upon 
Richard  as  his  'beloved  squire  and  minstrel'.  He  escaped  from 
Flint  when  Richard  was  taken."  (Cl.  Pr.  cdd.) 

Scene  2. 

The  minute  delineation  of  Richard's  character  now  begins.  The 
plot  of  this  scene  resembles  that  of  ii.  2, — />.  it  consists  of  a  series 
of  entrances,  each  disclosing  some  fresh  misfortune;  and  these  are 
skilfully  made  to  lay  bare  before  us  Richard's  impulsive  feminine 
temperament,  with  its  sudden  alternate  fits  of  arrogance  and  despair. 
Coleridge  has  well  ascribed  to  him  "a  constant  orerflcni<  of  emotions 
from  a  total  incapability  of  controlling  them,  and  thence  a  waste 
of  that  energy  which  should  have  been  reserved  for  actions  ..The 
consequence  is  moral  exhaustion  and  rapid  alternations  of  unmanly 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  153 

despair  and  ungrounded  hope,  every  feeling  being  abandoned  for  its 
direct  opposite  upon  the  pressure  of  external  accident." — Note  also 
(2)  the  symmetry  with  which  these  alternations  are  arranged, — a 
mark  of  the  immature  Shakespeare.  The  whole  scene  might  be 
mapped  out  somewhat  thus: 

i.   Richard  confident,  1-62; 

urged  to  action  by  Carlisle  and  Aumerle,  27-35; 
ii.  (enter  Salisbury),  Richard  despairs: — again  confident; 
iii.  (enter  Scroop),   Richard  despairs; 

encouraged  by  Carlisle  and  Aumerle:— again  confident; 
iv.  (news  of  York's  defection),  Richard  despairs. 

1.  Barkloughly,  probably  Harlech.     The  name  occurs  only  in 
Holinshed  (Barclowlie),  where  it  is  a  copyist's  or  printer's  error  for 
'  Hertlowli'.     The  two  MSS.  of  the  Life  of  Richard  II.,  by  a  monk 
of  Evesham,  in  the  British  Museum,  have  'Hertlowli',   '  Hertlow' 
(Cl.  Pr.  edd.),  which  last  is  plainly  referable  to  HardJlech,  the  Old 
Welsh  form  of  the  modern  '  Harlech'  (Mabinogion).     Harlech  was 
the  only  prominent  fortress  then  existing  between  Caernarvon  and 
Aberystwyth. 

2.  brook,  commonly  in  Shakespeare  '  to  endure',  has  here  a  trace 
of  its  O.  E.  sense,  '  to  enjoy,  like'. 

3.  After.    A  final  -er  is  often  slurred  before  a  vowel,  but  seldom 
before  a  consonant.      Cf.  Measure  for  Measure,  ii.  4.  58,   "Stand 
more  for  number  than  for  accompt. — How  say  you?"  and  Prosody, 
I-  §  3  (")• 

4.  On  the  difference  between  Richard's  love  for  England,  and 
Bolingbroke's,  cf.  note  to  i.  3.  306-9.     Note  how  felicitously  the 
contrast  is  brought  home  by  the  juxtaposition  of  this  and  the  previous 
scene.     Richard  loses  himself  in  an  eloquent  wail  to  England  his 
'lost  child';   we  have  just  seen  Bolingbroke  sternly  avenging  her 
wrongs. 

8.  [Explain  the  order.]     (Cf.  iii.  I.  9.) 

9.  Plays,  an  exquisite  use  of  the  word; — 'dailies';  neither  tears 
nor  smiles  fully  expressing  the  mother's  emotion,  she  involuntarily 
fluctuates  between  them  as  if  sporting  with  them. 

14-22.  The  best  comment  on  these  lines  is  a  hint  of  their  resem- 
blance to  the  fairy  charm- song  in  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream, 
ii.  2.  9.  Richard,  in  the  crisis  of  action,  creates  about  him  a  fairyland 
full  of  wise  and  faithful  beasts,  and  the  armed  troops  wait  inactive 
on  the  shore  while  their  leader  invokes  the  aid  of  nettles  and  spiders. 

23.  '  Mock  not  my  solemn  appeal,  addressed  to  deaf  ears  though 
it  be ! ' — sense,  as  often  in  E.  E.,  refers  to  physical  perception ;  and ' 
senseless  is  used  passively  ( =  not  perceived).  So  careless  — '  not 
cared  f>r';  helpless  —  beyond  help.  Cf.  Kellner,  §  250. 


154  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  III. 

25.  her  native  king,  the  king  who  is  naturally,  by  right  of  in- 
heritance, hers. 

29.  heaven  yields,  adopted  by  Pope  for  the  reading  of  the 
Quartos  heavens  yield,  '  heaven'  being  used  in  the  two  following  lines. 

33.  Aumerle  bluntly  interprets  the   veiled   remonstrance  of  the 
sturdy   bishop;   merely,    however,    provoking   a   fresh   outburst   of 
Richard's  splendid  but  unseasonable  poetry. 

34.  security.     Cf.  ii.  i.  266. 

36-53.  It  is  characteristic  of  Richard  to  lay  hold  of  some  brilliant 
image  or  fantastic  analogy  and  develop  it  in  detail  as  ardently  and 
earnestly  as  if  it  were  a  solid  fact.  To  him  it  is.  Hence  the  petu- 
lance with  which  he  turns  upon  Aumerle  for  not  recognizing  that 
evil  shrinks  when  the  sun  rises.  His  argument  could  hardly  be  more 
magnificent— or  more  irrelevant 

36.  '  Comfortable '  is  always  active  in  Shakespeare,  and  the  suffix 
•able  more  often  than  not. 

38.  that,  for  which  Hanmer  adopted  the  easy  but  un-Shakespearian 
reading  and,  is  doubtless  right.  '  The  sun,  that  (then)  lights  the 
lower  world.' 

40.  boldly,  conjectured  by  Collier  and  adopted  by  Dyce,  for  the 
bloody  of  most  of  the  old  editions.  Cj  I,  however,  has  boiildy. 

55.  balm,  the  oil  used  in  anointing  a  king.  For  the  metre  cf. 
Prosody,  I.  §  2  (i). 

58.  press'd,  impressed,  i.e.  into  the  ranks. 

64.  near,  comparative;  probably  rather  a  contraction  of  nearer 
through  slurring  than  a  survival  of  the  M.  E.  comparative. 

71.  Cf.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iv.  5.  52,  (Nurse)  "O  day  !  O  day  !  O  day ! 
O  hateful  day!" 

75,  76.   High  colour,  easily  yielding  to  deadly  pallor,  was  part  of 
Shakespeare's  conception  of  Richard;  cf.  ii.  I.  118,  and  note.     On 
Richard's  argument  cf.  note  to  line  36  above. 

76.  But  now.  [The  exact  force  of  butt] 
76-79.  On  the  quatrain  cf.  note  to  ii.  I.  9. 

83-90.  Richard  again  characteristically  forgets  the  pressure  of 
hard  facts  under  the  influence  of  an  inspiring  idea. 

92.  deliver,  communicate. 

93-103.  Richard  nowhere  hits  so  successfully  the  tone  of  kingly 
dignity  as  here.  He  is  apt  to  l>e  boyish  when  he  exults,  and  woman- 
ish when  he  despairs;  but  exultation  sobered  by  Scroop's  warning 
preface,  and  not  yet  shattered  by  his  story,  gives  him  for  a  moment 
the  bearing  of  a  man. 

95.  [Meaning  of  caret] 


Scene  2.] 


NOTES. 


102.  Cry,  proclaim,  announce. 

112.  thin  and  hairless  scalps,  a  good  illustration  of  the  pictur- 
esque inexactness  of  Elizabethan  language.  Grammatically,  'thin' 
qualifies  'scalps';  but  in  the  writer's  mind  it  qualifies  'hair',  sup- 
plied from  the  following  adj. :  the  whole  being  thus  equivalent  to 
'scalps  with  few  hairs  or  none'. 

114.  female,  i.e.  as  small  and  delicate. 

116.  Thy  beadsmen,  the  'almsmen'  supported  by  the  king  and 
required  in  return  to  offer  prayers  (M.  E.  bede,  prayer)  for  him. 

117.  double-fatal,  the  wood  being  used  for  bows,  and  the  berries 
as  poison. 

118.  manage,  handle,  wield. 

119.  bills.     The  bill  was  a  formidable  weapon  used  by  infantry 
in  mediaeval  warfare;  commonly  a  spear-headed  shaft,  with  an  axe 
at  one  side  and  a  spike  at  the  other. 

122.  The  occurrence  of  Bagot's  name  here  has  caused  some  diffi- 
culty, since  the  context  seems  to  imply  that  three  persons  only  are 
mentioned  (line  132),  and  that  Bagot  is  not  one  of  these  (line  141). 
Theobald  accordingly  proposed  the  grotesque  conjecture  he  got  for 
Bagot.  The  words  have,  however,  all  the  air  of  being  genuine,  and 
Richard  naturally  associates  together  the  three  men  of  meaner  origin 
who  owed  everything  to  his  favour.  It  would,  therefore,  be  sur- 
prising if  Bagot  ware  not  mentioned.  But  the  passage  is  certainly 
dramatically  inadequate;  since  Aumerle's  question  in  line  141  implies, 
as  the  text  stands,  that  he  knew  Bagot  not  to  be  one  of  the  '  three'; 
and  it  is  not  apparent  how  he  could  know  this. 

128.  A  similar  play  on  the  word  peace,  under  yet  grimmer  circum- 
stances, occurs  in  the  dialogue  of  Macduff  and  Rosse  (Macbeth,  iv. 
3-  176). 

" Macd.  How  does  my  wife?    Rosse.  Why,  well. 
Macd.  And  all  my  children?    Rosse.  Well  too. 
Macd.  The  tyrant  has  not  batter'd  at  their  peace? 
Rosse.    No,  they  were  well  at  peace  when  I  did  leave  'em." 

133.  Would,  past  indie.,  'were  they  willing  to'. 

135.  property,  specific  quality;  that  which  distinguishes  a  thing, 
or  class  of  things,  from  the  other  members  of  the  samegettt/s;  now  used 
loosely  for  any  quality  possessed  by  a  thing;  e.g. ,  in  the  present  case, 
not  only  the  quality  of  attachment  which  distinguished  love  from 
hate,  but  the  quality  of  passion  which  they  possess  in  common.  "  An 
adaptation  of  the  proverb,  Corruptio  optimi  pessima  [the  best  things 
are  worst  in  decay]."  (Deighton.) 

144-177.  As  in  his  former  speech  (36-62)  he  gathered  couragt 
from  thinking  of  the  majesty  of  kingship,  so  in  this  he  makes  his 
despair  picturesque  and  effective  by  arraying  it  in  the  rich  popular 


156  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  III. 

traditions  and  fancies  on  the  theme  of  the  Fall  of  Kings.  Cf.  note 
to  lines  156-160. 

144.  Scroop's  answer,  which  would  have  betrayed  the  whoie  truth 
at  once,  is  prevented  in  the  most  natural  way  by  Richard's  petulant 
outburst.  He  only  gets  his  chance  at  line  194,  after  Richard  has  again 
lecovered  confidence;  and  then  the  tragic  material  thus  economized 
is  utilized  with  full  effect. 

153.  model.  Cf.  note  to  i.  2.  28.  The  expression  is  ambiguous. 
Literally,  "  model  of  the  barren  earth"  means  'image  in  little  of  the 
earth',  i.e.  the  grave  '  which  to  the  dead  represents  the  whole  earth'. 
This  is  rather  far-fetched ;  and  it  is  likely  that  Shakespeare  would 
not  here  have  used  the  word  model  had  he  not  been  thinking  of  the 
mould  as  closely  wrapped  about  the  body  and  taking  its  impress. 
Cf.  Hamlet's  use  of  the  word:  "My  father's  signet,  Which  was  the 
model  of  that  Danish  seal",  Hamlet,  v.  2  50.  On  the  inexactness 
of  poetical  language  in  E.  E.  see  note  to  line  1 12  above. — Mr.  Pater 
{Appreciations,  p.  209)  thinks  there  is  an  allusion  to  the  effigy  of  the 
dead  placed  over  a  royal  tomb.  This  is  unlikely. 

156-160.  'Sad  stories  of  the  death  of  kings'  were  a  typical  form 
of  what  in  the  Middle  Ages  was  called  'Tragedy',  />.  a  tale  of 
prosperity  ending  in  ruin.  The  most  famous  collection  was  Hoccaccio's 
De  Casiktis  Virorum  lllustrinm,  adapted  in  English  by  Lydgate  in 
his  Falls  of  Princes,  which  in  the  generation  before  Shakespeare 
was  enlarged  and  continued  in  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates,  1559  f. 
Shakespeare  must  have  been  familiar  with  this  colossal  collection. 
The  'tragedy'  of  Richard  himself  is  among  the  earliest  of  the  'sad 
stories'  it  contains. 

158.  On  the  repetition  of  a  word  without  apparent  point  see  note 
to  ii.  I.  248. 

160-163.  The  conception  is  in  the  very  spirit  of  the  popular 
sixteenth-century  imagination  of  Death.  The  'Dance  of  Death' 
represented  Death  summoning  the  emperor.  A  print  in  the  Imagines 
Mortis  may,  as  Douce  suggests,  have  directly  suggested  the  image. 
"There  a  king  is  represented  sitting  on  his  throne,  sword  in  hand, 
with  courtiers  round  him,  while  from  his  eroivn  rises  a  ^rintiin^ 
skeleton."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

161.  rounds,  encircles. 

163.  Scoffing  his  state,  scoffing  at  his  majesty. 

164.  a  breath,  a  short  space. 

scene.  Note  the  felicity  of  the  image,  which  suggests  that  the 
king,  like  the  player,  only  'struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage', 
and  will  presently  disrobe. 

166.  self,  adj.  '  concerned  with  self,  nearly  equivalent  to  '  selfish', 
a  word  first  found  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

It  is  characteristic  that  Richard  thus  stumbles  into  self-recognition 
under  the  stimulus,  not  of  reason  or  conscience,  hut  of  poetic  fancy. 


Scene  2.] 


NOTES. 


'57 


168.  humour'd  thus,  '  while  he  (the  king)  is  possessed  by  this 
humour  (of  conceit)';  or,  perhaps,  'when  his  will  has  been  thus 
gratified'.  The  former  is  more  in  keeping  with  the  immediate  con- 
text (since  lines  166-7  represent  Death  as  infusing  kingly  vanity,  not 
as  gratifying  it),  the  latter  is  a  more  usual  sense  of  the  word,  and  is 
consistent  with  the  more  remote  context  ( '  Allowing  him  a  breath ',  &c. ). 

175-6.  There  may  be  something  lost  here;  yet  Shakespeare  often 
uses  four-feet  verses  in  series  of  brief  weighty  phrases,  separated  by 
marked  pauses  (cf.  Abbott,  §  509;  Prosody,  HI.  §  3  (i)  (p.  198). 

176.  subjected,  made  subject  to  want,  grief,  £c. ;  i.e.  made  their 
subject.  Richard,  who  rallied  Gaunt  on  'playing  nicely'  with  his 
name,  has  now  himself  learnt  that  "Misery  makes  sport  to  mock 
itself". 

179.  presently.     See  Glossary. 

183.  to  fight,  in  fighting.     Cf.  Glossary,  s.v.  to. 

184-5.   'To  die  fighting  is  to  die  triumphing  over  Death  ;  to 
in  fear  is  to  die  cowering  before  him.'     The  bold  expression  of  the 
former  line  contains  the  thought  (appropriate  to  a  warlike  bishop) 
that  the  valorous  Soul  is  emancipated  from  death.     Cf.   also  the 
grand  close  of  Sonnet  cxlvi :  addressed  to  his  '  Soul ' — 
"  Buy  terms  divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross; 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  rich  no  more  : 
So  shall  thou  feed  on  Death,  that  feeds  on  men, 
And  Death  once  dead,  there  's  no  more  dying  then  ". 

187.  I.e.  make  the  limb  perform  the  function  of  the  whole  body; 
— give  York's  troop  the  efficacy  of  a  great  army  by  good  general- 
ship. 

188.  The  reminder  which  he  had  impatiently  repelled  when  over- 
whelmed by  the  news  of  Bushy's  and  Green's  deaths,  now  instantly 
restores  his  spirits. 

189.  /.<•.  to  decide  the  doom  of  each  of  us. 

194.  The  quatrain  emphasizes  the  emotion  with  which  Scroop  de- 
livers the  last  fatal  message. 

198.  by  small  and  small,  a  variation  of  the  common  '  by  little 
and  little',  itself  based  upon  the  O.  E.  lytlum  and  lytlum  (instrumental 
plural  of  lytel). 

204.  This  admirable  stroke  goes  to  the  core  of  Richard's  artist 
nature.  Keenly  alive  to  the  effectiveness  of  the  parts  he  plays,  he 
prefers  the  heroic  role  of  the  magnificent  and  absolute  king  ;  failing 
this,  he  will  have  the  pathetic  role  of  the  ruined  and  hapless  king. 
Aumerle's  futile  suggestion  has  disturbed  his  growing  acquiescence  in 
this  secondary  but  still  effective  part. 

212.  'To  plough  where  there  is  some  hope  of  harvest:  with  me 
their  labour  can  produce  no  fruit. ' 

(868)  I 


I58  KING   RICHARD   II.  [Act  IIL 

Scene  3. 

This  very  dramatic  scene  represents  the  central  and  decisive  mo- 
ment in  the  story,— the  virtual  transferor  the  crown  from  Richard  to 
Bolingbroke.  The  transfer  is  brought  about  by  purely  dramatic 
means, — by  the  action  of  character  upon  character.  There  is  no 
vulgar  conflict  or  trial  of  strength.  Both  Bolingbroke  and  Richard 
play  a  part,  the  one  with  astute  calculation,  the  other  out  of  instinct 
for  effect;  Bolingbroke  never  departs  from  the  role  of  the  mere 
injured  subject,  come  'but  for  mine  own";  while  Richard,  after  a 
momentary  uncertainty  (lines  127  f. ),  adopts  the  role  of  the  ruined 
king,  as  in  iii.  2,  and  pathetically  courts  his  own  fall,  Bolingbroke 
quietly  securing  him  in  this  assumed  position  by  cutting  off  his  retreat 

9.  On  the  short  line  cf.  Prosody,  I.  §  2  (iii)  (a). 

12.  so.  ..to...,  the  usual  idiom  in  E.  E.  for  indicating  a  conse- 
quence, Mod.  E.  'so...,  as  to....' 

13.  the  head,  the  title. 

17.  mistake,  fail  to  recognize  that. 

21.  Shakespeare  here  diverges  from  Holinshed,  who  represents 
the  castle  as  already  in  the  hands  of  Northumberland,  who  had 
thence  proceeded  to  Conway,  where  Richard  had  found  refuge,  and 
induced  him  to  accompany  him  back  to  Flint.  Richard  was  thus 
already  virtually  a  prisoner.  The  scene  would,  so  contrived,  have 
lost  the  element  of  suspense, — like  a  hunt  in  a  closed  field;  and 
Richard's  attitude  in  lines  62  f.  would  have  seemed  farcical. 

31-61.  "Observe  the  fine  struggle  of  a  haughty  sense  of  power 
and  ambition  in  Bolingbroke  with  the  necessity  for  dissimulation." 
(Coleridge.) 

32.  rude  ribs,  the  stubborn  defensive  walls.  So  in  King  John 
the  walls  of  Angers  are  called  "the  flinty  ribs  of  this  contemptuous 
city",  ii.  I.  384. 

34.  ruin'd  ears,  the  battered  casements  or  loopholes;  cf.  the 
'tattered  battlements',  line  52. 

ears,  an  obvious  image;  cf.  'window'  (  =  wind-eye). 

deliver:  used  absolutely  in  E.  E.  =  ' relate ',  as  in  our  'deliver 
a  message '. 

39.  Even ;  see  note  to  i.  3.  77. 

45.  The  which,  "like  Latin  quod  in  quod  si",  Abbott,  §  272. 

47.  It  is  characteristic  that  Bolingbroke  never,  even  in  order 'to  be 
brief,  omits  Richard's  title. 

52.  The  words  totter  and  tatter  and  their  derivatives  were  much 
confused  in  E.E.  'Totter'd'  was  a  common  spelling  for  'tatter'd';  it 
occurs  in  the  first  two  quartos  here ;  similarly  in  the  quartos  of  Ham- 


Scene  3.]  NOTES. 

let,  "tear  a  passion  to  totters";  and  in  Ford,  The  Sun's  Darling 
(Skeat).  For  the  use  of  the  word  in  reference  to  hard  things  (  = 
'jagged',  'lacerated'),  cf.  Pierce  Plaivman's  Crede,  753:  "Histefc 
wib  toylinge  of  le)>er  tatered  as  a  sawe  ". 

58.  This  indication  beforehand  of  the  policy  he  means  to  pursue 
is  characteristic  of  Marlowe,  and  of  Shakespeare  when  under  his 
influence. 

60.  on  the  earth,  and  not  on  him.     "Cold,  smooth,  pliant  as 
the  earth-encircling  waters,  destroying  only  where  the  natural  law  of 
the  advance  meets  with  resistance, — raining  down  upon  the  earth 
impartially,  whether  upon  king  or  beggar, — so  Bolingbroke  attacks 
not  the  king,  but  the  throne :  he  is  not  fighting  out  of  personal  ran- 
cour, but  for  possession,  for  solid  lasting  power."  (Kreyssig.) 

61.  mark  King  Richard  how  he  looks;  this  concrete  form  of  the 
substantive  sentence  was  still  common  in  E.  E.    Cf.  Kellner,  §  104. 

62-67.  Probably  not  spoken  by  Bolingbroke,  though  the  old  editions 
indicate  no  change  of  speaker,  but  either  by  Percy  (Dyce)  or  York 
(Hanmer).  Again  a  vivid  picture  of  the  'rose-red'  Richard.  The 
image  in  these  lines  was  a  favourite  one  with  Shakespeare.  Cf. 
Sonnets  vii  and  xxxiii. 

70.  majesty;  the  second  syllable  slurred  (Appendix  i,  §2),  and 
the  remaining  superfluous  syllable  explained  by  the  pause  (ib.  iii, 

§2). 

72  f.  "  Richard's  oratorical  talent  grows  more  triumphant  as  his 
action  grows  more  pitiable."  (Kreyssig.) 

73,  76.  fearful,  awful;  [the  exact  force  of  these  adjectives?] 

75-6.  Richard's  fantastic  conception  of  his  office  is  vividly  con- 
veyed by  this  way  of  phrasing  his  demand, — as  if  the  very  limbs  of 
his  subjects  owed  him  fealty. 

81.  profane,  commit  sacrilege. 

83.  torn  their  souls,  violated  the  integrity  of  their  souls  by 
treason. 

87.  The  'angels'  of  iii.  2.  60,  who  were  to  repel  Bolingbroke,  are 
now  replaced  by  plagues,  which  are  expected  only  to  take  vengeance 
on  the  yet  unborn.  But  the  latter  part  of  the  speech  (lines  95  f. )  is 
clearly  intended  as  an  unconscious  forecast  of  the  civil  wars  of  the 
next  century,  like  Carlisle's  speech  (iv.  I.  136  f.). 

93-4.  '  To  open  a  testament'  (will)  is  the  first  step  towards  carry- 
ing out  its  provisions ;  hence  Richard  merely  says,  in  highly  coloured 
language,  that  Bolingbroke  is  come  to  turn  war  from  an  abstract  pur- 
pose into  a  deadly  reality.  Delius  compares  Kyd's  phrase  mjerony- 
mo,  "Then  I  unclasp  the  purple  leaves  of  war".  Purple,  as  often, 
of  blood. 


.  160  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  II. 

97.  the  flower  of  England's  face,  is.  the  lilossomy  surface  of 
the  land,  stained  by  the  bleeding  slain,  but  with  a  secondary  sug- 
gestion, made  prominent  in  the  next  lines,  of  a  flower-like  human 
countenance. 

98.  maid-pale,  virgin-white.    The  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  compare  /  Henry 
17.  ii.  4.  47,  "I  pluck  this  pale  and  maiden  blossom  here". 

101.  In  ironical  allusion  to  Richard's  boast,  line  85. 

102.  civil,  as  against  fellow-countrymen, 
uncivil,  as  '  violent ',  '  turbulent '. 

104.  Harry.     See  Prosody,  I.  §  2  (ii). 

105-120.  Northuml>erland,  unlike  the  Homeric  Messenger,  does 
not  repeat  his  message  in  literal  terms.  Bolingbroke  has  in  fact 
given  no  pledge  and  taken  no  oath.  Northumberland  seeks  merely 
to  get  possession  of  Richard,  without  committing  his  chief. 

105.  tomb;  "The  tomb  of  Edward  III.  is  the  first  mentioned  in 
our  literature,  viz.  in  this  passage".   (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

109.  The  hand  is  finely  singled  out  as  that  which  wielded  the 
sword,  and  thus  symbolized  Gaunt's  warlike  prowess.  Hand  is  often 
used  with  this  association  in  O.  E.  poetry  (e.g.  '  hotid-gembt ',  hand- 
to-hand  conflict). 

112.  scope,  intention.     See  Glossary. 

113.  royalties;  cf.  note  ii.  I.  190. 

1 14.  Enfranchisement,  restoration  to  his  rights  as  a  free  subject. 

115.  on  thy  royal  party,  on  your  side,  as  king. 

116.  commend,  commit,  hand  over. 

127.  Here  Northumberland  is  supposed  to  withdraw.  He  departs, 
as  he  arrived,  without  ceremony.  He  does  not,  of  course,  actually 
leave  the  stage,  since  Bolingbroke  is  throughout  present  in  the  fore- 
ground. 

cousin;  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (iii). 

137.  His  failure  in  the  scene  with  Northumberland  wrings  from 
him  the  first  bitter  sense  of  his  incompetence  in  action. 

lesser  than  my  name,  i.e.  bore  a  lower  name  than  that  of 
king. — This  outburst  of  shame  and  grief,  without  any  change  of 
resolve,  prepares  us  for,  and  explains,  his  next  fatal  speech ;  see  note 
to  143  f. 

140-  scope.     See  Glossary. 

143  f.  Richard,  i«  his  agitation,  now  loses  his  head  and  throws 
himself  into  his  enemy's  hand.  By  holding  Bolingbroke  to  his  word, 
he  could  have  placed  him  in  the  dilemma  of  having  either  to  disband 
his  force-,  or  tu  seize  the  king  by  violence.  Instead,  he  oTers  the 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  161 

resignation  which  Bolingbroke  desires  to  receive  but  not  to  demand. — 
Yet  his  eloquence  triumphs  over  the  reader's  provocation,  and  makes 
his  abject  surrender  seem  pathetic,  not  contemptible.  Shakespeare, 
finely  impartial  as  ever,  take?  equal  pains  to  show  us  Richard's 
fatuity  and  to  prevent  our  despising  him  for  it. 

146  f.  The  string  of  parallel  clauses  each  conveyed  in  a  single  line 
is  a  favourite  figure  of  Shakespearian  rhetoric  in  this  period.  Cf. 
Constance's  speech  in  King  John,  iii.  4.  26  f.  So,  in  a  lower  vein, 
Marlowe,  Edward  II.  p.  194 — 

"  'T  is  not  a  black  coat  and  a  little  band, . . . 
Or  holding  of  a  napkin  in  your  hand, 
Or  saying  a  long  grace  at  a  table's  end, 
Or  making  low  legs  to  a  nobleman, 
Can  get  you  any  favour  with  great  men". 

147.  set  of  beads,  i.e.  a  rosary. 

149.  Holinshed  describes  Richard  as  having  been  "exceedingly 
sumptuous  in  apparel ",  and  as  having  had  ' '  one  coat  which  he 
caused  to  be  made  for  him  of  gold  and  stone,  valued  at  30,000 
marks  ". 

156.  trade.     See  Glossary. 

159.  and  buried  once,  an  absolute  clause  without  expressed  sub- 
ject: cf.  "humourM  thus",  iii.  2.  168. 

1 60.  Another  of  the  delicate  touches  by  which  the  charm  of  Richard 
is  brought  out.     The  rough  and  unamiable  Aumerle  shows  devotion 
to  no  one  else. 

161-171.  The  slightest  incident  is  instantly  transmuted  into  bright 
imagery  in  Richard's  artist-brain.  Here,  under  the  stimulus  of  sym- 
pathy, his  quick  fancy  breaks  loose  from  all  control  and  swiftly 
evolves  from  those  tears  a  whimsical  little  story,  with  an  epitaph  to 
close  it. 

168.  therein  laid;  cf.  note  to  line  159. 

lies;  the  singular  was  commonly  used  after  'there',  'here,'  be- 
fore a  plural  noun.  The  French  il  y  a  with  a  plural  is  parallel  only 
in  meaning,  not  in  grammar,  since  the  logical  subject  which  follows 
is  grammatically  the  object  of  '  a '. 

175.  make  a  leg,  i.e.  an  obeisance,  used  as  a  polite  mode  of  assent, 
like  our  bow,  but  in  character  rather  resembling  the  'courtsey'.    Cf. 
the  amusing  scene  in  Jonson's  Epiccene  (ii.  i),  where  Morose,  the 
hater  of  noise,  questions  his  servant  Mute,  who  is  strictly  forbidden 
to  speak:  "  Have  you  given  him  a  key,  to  come  in  without  knocking? 
[Af.  makes  a  leg] — Good.     And  is  the  lock  oiled,  and  the  hinges  to- 
day?    [M.  makes  a  leg] — Good,"  &c. 

176.  base  court.  The  basse  cour,  or  outer  (and  often  lower)  court- 
yard of  a  castle,  surrounded  by  the  offices  and  stables. 


l6z  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  III. 

178.  like  glistering  Phaeton.  In  this  splendid  image  we  have 
the  key  to  the  Shakespearian  Richard, — the  bright,  hapless  charioteer, 
with  his  dazzling  beauty  and  eloquence,  and  his  incompetence  to 
control  the  self-willed  steeds  of  practical  politics. — The  whole  brief 
speech  vividly  brings  before  us  this  view  of  the  situation, — poetry 
breaking  itself  against  hard  facts. 

184.  [The  scansion  of  this  line?] 

185.  Makes;  the  sing.,  since  'sorrow  and  grief  form  one  idea, 
fondly,  [the  meaning?] 

189.  On  the  short  line  see  Prosody,  III.  §  3  (i)  2.  (p.  197). 

192.  Me  rather  had.  This  idiom  has  a  somewhat  complex  origin. 
In  M.  K.  there  were  two  chief  ways  of  expressing  preference:  (i)  me 
were  lei'fr,  (2)  /  hadde  laer.  From  their  identity  of  meaning  they 
were  often  mixed;  and  further  forms  arose:  (3)  I  were  lever  (we  have 
"  I  am  nought  Ietf\.o  gabbe"  in  Chaucer);  and  (4)  Me  hadde  lever. 
Finally,  the  general  equivalence  of  ln<er  and  rather  in  expressions  of 
preference  led  to  the  substitution  of  rather  in  (4).  For  M.  E.  examples 
cf.  Finenkel,  u.s.  p.  112.  Abbott's  explanation  (§  230)  is  incom- 
plete. 

195.  Thus  high  (pointing  to  his  head). 

203.  want,  i.e.  'are  devoid  of,  'contain  no  remedy  for  the  woes 
they  bewail '. 

204-5.  Richard  and  Bolingbroke  were,  within  a  few  months,  of 
the  same  age  (33)  in  1399. 

Scene  4. 

This  scene  does  not  carry  the  main  action  any  further,  but  deepens 
the  impression  of  what  is  already  accomplished  by  showing  us  how 
the  news  of  it  is  received.  The  passionate  grief  of  the  queen  adds  to 
the  pathos  of  Richard's  fall ;  but  the  gardener,  who,  while  pitying  him, 
admits  his  fate  to  be  just,  and  the  servant,  who  bitterly  resents  the 
harm  he  has  done  to  England,  show  us  that  the  nation  already  be- 
longed to  the  new  king.  "  Mow  beautiful  an  islet  of  repose— a  melan- 
choly repose  indeed — is  this  scene  with  the  gardener  and  his  servant." 
(Coleridge.) 

Scene:  Langlty,  &c.  Capell  first  inferred  from  line  70,  and  ii.  2. 
116  that  the  scene  is  intended  to  take  place  in  the  garden  of  the 
Duke  of  York's  palace  at  Langley. 

4.  rubs.  "In  the  game  of  bowls,  when  a  bowl  was  diverted  from 
its  course  by  an  impediment,  it  was  said  to  rub."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 
'  Bias'  was  also  a  technical  term  in  bowls  (originally  meaning  slant, 
obliijitf},  and  "applied  alike  to  the  construction  or  form  of  the  bowl 
imparting  an  oblique  motion,  the  oblique  line  in  which  it  runs,  and 
the  kind  of  impetus  given  to  cause  it  to  run  obliquely".  (Murray, 
New  English  Dictionary,  s.V.) 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  163 

7-8.  measure,  again  a  play  upon  the  technical  and  the  general 
senses  of  the  word.  See  note  to  i.  3.  291. 

ir.  joy,  first  proposed  by  Rowe  for  grief,  the  reading  of  all  the 
Quartos  and  Folios,  which  no  subtlety  can  reconcile  with  line  13. 

15.  being  altogether  had,  'wholly possessing  me'. 

22.  7>.  '  I  could  sing  for  joy,  if  my  grief  were  such  as  to  be  relieved 
by  your  weeping  for  it'. 

28.  woe  is  forerun  with  woe;   i.e.  sorrow  heralds  calamity. 
The  queen  states  a  view  congenial  to  her  brooding,  apprehensive 
nature.     Cf.  her  own  anticipations,  ii.  2. 

29  f.  The  gardener  and  the  servant  are  treated  in  a  wholly  abstract 
and  symbolic  way,  which  vividly  contrasts  with  the  genial  realism  of 
the  Mower'  characters  in  Henry  IV.  This  was  no  doubt  favoured 
by  the  uniform  use  of  verse  in  this  play.  Shakespeare  commonly 
gives  prose  to  characters  of  lower  station:  but  a  poetic  motif  always 
suffices  to  break  down  this  rule  (while,  conversely,  high-born  char- 
acters, like  Hotspur  and  Fauconbridge,  can  use  verse  even  for  the 
most  colloquial  jesting).  Shakespeare,  a  lover  of  gardens,  was  keenly 
sensitive  to  their  imaginative  suggestions  (cf.  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4).  A 
somewhat  similar  scene  occurs  in  Richard  III.  ii.  3,  where  '  two 
Citizens  meeting'  express  the  popular  unrest  and  foreboding  after 
the  king's  death,  in  poetic  verse.  On  the  murderers  in  Macbeth  cf. 
note  to  v.  5.  113. 

29.  apricocks,  the  commoner  form  in  E.  E.  of  the  name  of  the 
fruit  apricot;  the  first  from  the  Portuguese,  the  second  from  the  French 
form  of  an  Arabic  word  borrowed  through  the  Greek  from  the  Latin 
praecoqua  (Skeat). 

35.  look  too  lofty,  have  too  ambitious  an  air. 

38.  without  profit,  [to  whom?] 

40.  pale,  inclosure,  i.e.  the  walled  garden.     See  Glossary. 

42.  model.    See  Glossary. 

43.  Cf.  ii.  I.  47. 

46.  knots,  flower-beds  arranged  in  intricate  patterns ;  a  practice 
characteristic  of  the  artificial  taste  of  the  later  sixteenth  century.    He 
means  that  the  growth  of  weeds  had  obscured  the  pattern. 

47.  caterpillars.    The  'servant'  is  felicitously  made  to  resume 
Bolingbroke's  term  for  the  wasters  of  the  land  (ii.  3.  166);  as,  in  line 
43,  that  of  Gaunt  for  England.     This  knits  the  present  scene  closer 
into  the  texture  of  the  play. 

49.  This  beautiful  line  touches  Richard's  fall  with  pathetic  tender- 
ness. The  old  gardener  too  feels  his  charm.  For  the  thought  cf. 
Macbeth,  v.  3.  22,  "  My  way  of  life  Is  fallen  into  the  sear  and  yellow 
leaf". 


164  KIX<;    RICHARD    II.         [Act  III.  Sc.  4. 

57.  at  time  of  year,  at  the  (proper)  season.  The  definite  article 
is  often  omitted  before  a  substantive  sufficiently  defined  by  a  follow- 
ing  'of. 

60.  it,  the  tree. 

confound,  undo,  destroy. 

69.  doubt,  fear;  the  modern  sense  also  occurs  in  E.  E.,  but  less 
commonly. 

72.  press'd  to  death,  "the  punishment  of  accused  persons  who 
refused  to  plead.  It  was  known  in  French  as  t he peinejortett  dine, 
and  consisted  in  placing  heavier  and  heavier  weights  upon  the  chrst  " 
(Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

75.  suggested;  see  note  i.  I.  loi.  The  queen,  like  Richard, 
speaks  'fondly',  like  one  'frantic*. 

78.  For  the  order  cf.  Kellner,  §  466;  Abbott,  §  419.     The  idiom 
is  commoner  in  E.  E.  than  in  M.  E. 

79.  Divine,  properly  to  use  mysterious  and  preternatural  means 
of  knowledge.      The  word  is  appropriate  to  the  queen,  who  aho 
believes  that  the  unknown  future  can  be  (l)  prognosticated  (ii.  2), 
(2)  influenced  by  a  curse  (below,  line  101). 

83.  King  Richard,  he.    [Why  the  pronoun?] 

hold,  custody,  a  common  sense  of  M.  E.  hald,  hold;  "  pei 
dide  him  in  hold"  (they  put  him  in  custody),  Manning.  Cf.  oui 
'  stronghold '. 

92.  The  pathos  of  the  queen's  position  is  heightened  by  her  having 
to  learn  what  'every  one  doth  know'  from  the  lips  of  a  gardener. 

99.  The  Roman  usages  in  victory  and  defeat, — the  vanquished 
slaying  themselves  or  l>eing  paraded  in  the  victor's  triumph, — fasci- 
nated Shakespeare's  imagination,  and  he  often  makes  allusions  to  them 
which  the  historic  speakers  would  not  have  understood.  The  queen 
here  recals  the  Roman  triumph.  Macbeth  recals  the  resource  of 
the  Roman  vanquished  (v.  8.  I) — 

"  Why  should  I  play  the  Roman  fool,  and  die 

On  mine  own  sword?  whiles  I  see  lives,  the  gashes 

Do  better  upon  them". 

So  Horatio,  snatching  the  poisoned  cup  (to  avoid  the  ignominy,  not 
of  defeat,  but  of  surviving  his  friend):  "I'm  more  an  antique  Roman 
than  a  Dane:  Here's  yet  some  liquor  left",  Hamlet,  v.  2.  352. 

xoi.  The  queen  departs  with  a  last  piteous  outbreak  of  her  bodeful 
superstitious  nature. 

104.  fall,  let  fall,  with  the  characteristically  facile  conversion  ot 
intrans.  into  trans,  verbs  in  E.  E.  without  change  of  form.  In  O.  E. 
the  change  was  effected  by  a  suffix  which  changed  the  root  vowel  ol 
the  verb.  Thus  O.  E.  feallan  (intrans. ),  fiellan  (trans. ),  survive  in 
Mod.  E.  fall,  fell. 


Act.  IV.  Sc.  i.]  NOTES.  165 

106.  Rue,  standing  proverbially  for  '  ruth ',  and  also  known  by  the 
name  of  herb  of  grace.  This  passage  is  the  best  comment  to  Ophelia's 
words  to  the  queen,  Hamlet,  iv.  5.  181. 


Act  IV.— [The  Dethronement.] 
Scene  I. 

This  great  and  complex  scene  really  comprises  three  successive 
actions:  (i)  the  arraignment  ofAumerle;  (2)  the  protest  of  Carlisle 
against  the  deposition  ;  (3)  Richard's  public  surrender,  (i)  and  (2) 
are  founded  on  the  chronicle,  but  followed  instead  of  preceding 
Richard's  former  deposition ;  (3)  is  Shakespeare's  invention,  Richard 
not  having  been  present  at  any  meeting  of  Parliament.  None  of 
the  three  in  reality  advances  the  story :  for  the  arraignment  of  Au- 
merle  leads  to  nothing;  Carlisle's  protest  is  futile;  and  Richard's 
surrender  is  merely  a  performance  in  public  of  the  essential  act 
which  had  already  taken  place.  But  all  three  have  dramatic  value ; 
they  all  serve  to  bring  out  the  significance,  political,  moral,  pathetic, 
of  the  revolution  just  effected:  the  first  representing  it  as  a  Nemesis 
for  past  guilt ;  the  second  as  a  wrong,  involving  future  bloodshed ; 
the  third  as  (whether  right  or  wrong)  a  harrowing  change  of  fortune. 

Westminster  Hall,  The  rebuilding  of  Westminster  Hall,  by 
Richard's  orders,  one  of  the  memorable  architectural  achievements 
of  the  reign,  was  just  complete,  and  the  first  meeting  of  Parliament 
in  it  was  that  in  which  the  builder  was  deposed,  on  Sep.  30,  1399. 

1-2.  Short  lines  introductory  to  a  speech  or  a  subject.  See 
Prosody,  III.  §  3  (i)  I.  (a). 

3.  Thus  the  murder  of  Gloucester,  the  starting-point  of  the  whole 
action,  is  again  brought  into  the  utmost  prominence,  as  being  the 
best  justification  of  Richard's  overthrow.     By  making  the  inquiry 
into  it  his  first  business,  even  before  he  is  actually  king,  Bolingbroke 
gives  moral  dignity  to  his  usurpation,  and  acquires  that  air  of  a  great 
ruler  who  values  justice  above  power,  which  is  typified  in  Caesar's 
"  What  touches  us  ourselves,  shall  be  last  served".     The  historical 
order  of  events  (Aumerle  was  accused  on  Oct.  14)  was  evidently  less 
favourable  for  this. 

4.  Who  wrought,  who  joined  with  the  king  in  effecting  it. 

5.  timeless,  untimely,  #>«£  having  the  frequent  sense  of  'fit  time', 
as  in  iii.  4.  57. 

10.  dead  time,  death-like,  deadly,  with  evident  reference  to 
'Gloucester's  death'.  Shakespeare  elsewhere  uses  it  in  this  sense, 
e.g.  "  So  should  a  murderer  look,  so  dead,  so  grim  ",  Midsummer 
Nights  Dream,  iii.  2.  57. 


166  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  IV. 

15-16.   Holinshed  has  "twenty  thousand  pounds*'. 

17.  England;  three  syllables.  See  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (i).  This  is 
frequent  in  the  pre-Shakespearian  drama,  especially  in  rede.  In  this 
case  the  M.  E.  form  Engeland  perhaps  contributed  to  prolong  the 
usage. 

19.  this,  in  apposition  to  your  cousin, 

21.  my  fair  stars.  'Stars'  is  familiarly  used  in  Shakespeare  for 
'fortune  as  fixed  by  birth',  i.e.  that  unchangeable  element  in  a  man's 
destiny  which  comes  to  him  by  birth, —  his  blood  or  inherited  rank. 
Thus  the  germ  of  truth  in  the  astrological  doctrine  that  a  man's  fate 
was  fixed  by  the  position  of  the  stars  at  his  birth,  gradually  detached 
itself.  Hence,  phrases  like  "baser  stars",  All  s  Well,  i.  I.  97; 
"homely  stars",  All's  Well,  ii.  5.  So,  for  'mean  birth'. 

25.  the  manual  seal  of  death.  Aumerle,  with  characteristic 
insolence,  saves  his  pride  by  comparing  the.^v  (see  i.  I.  69)  with 
which  he  challenges  his  low-born  adversary  to  a  warrant  by  which 
he  secures  his  death. 

28.  though  being;  [the  construction?] 

29.  temper.    "The  harder  the  steel  the  brighter  polish  would  it 
take,  hence  the  polish  may  be  taken  as  a  measure  of  its  temper." 
(Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

33.  Fitzwater's  challenge  took  place,  according  to  Holinshed, 
two  days  after  Bagot's  charge  was  made. 

If  that.     Cf.  Abbott,  §  287. 

sympathy  ;  the  word  was  loosely  used  by  Shakespeare  for 
'equivalence',  'correspondence',  i.e.,  here,  of  rank.  Shakespeare's 
use  of  Latin  words  usually  suggests  that  he  knew  and  felt  their 
etymological  sense  (e.g.  continent  =  ' that  which  contains'):  his  use 
of  Greek  words  usually  suggests  that  he  did  not  know  it.  ("But 
though  thou  hadst  small  Latin  and  less  Greek."  Jonson,  To  the 
Memory  of  my  beloved  Master  IVilliam  Shakspeare.} 

40.  rapier.  The  commentators  carefully  point  out  that  the  rapier 
only  came  into  use  in  England  in  the  latter  part  of  the  i6th  century. 
In  Bulleyne's  Dialogue  between  Soarness  and  Chirurgi  (1579)  the 
" long-foining  rapier"  is  spoken  of  as  "a  new  kind  of  instrument". 
Shakespeare  was  doubtless  well  aware  of  the  fact,  and  very  properly 
indifferent  to  it.  Similarly,  when  Hotspur  talks  contemptuously  of 
the  " sword-and-buckler  Prince  of  Wales",  /  ffenry  IV.  i.  3.  230,  he 
speaks  from  the  standpoint  of  Shakespeare's  time,  which  held  the 
rapier  and  dagger  to  be  the  only  weapons  for  a  gentleman. 

49.  An  if.  An  is  the  modern  form  of  the  E.  E.  and,  'if,  which  is 
probably  merely  a  special  usage  of  the  ordinary  conjunction  'and'. 
From  being  used  to  introduce  a  hypothetical  sentence,  'and'  ac- 
quired itself  a  hypothetical  sense.  An  if  is  a  trace  of  the  process, 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  167 

before  that  sense  had  been  definitely  reached  ;  but  in  E.  E.  it  is  used 
simply  as  =  if.     It  survives  in  the  Somersetshire  nif. 

52.  task  the  earth,  i.e.  charge  it  with  the  task  of  bearing  my 
gage  (which  he  flings  down  as  he  speaks).  The  high-flown  language 
is  in  keeping  with  the  conventional  tone  of  the  challenge,  and  with 
the  'holloa'd'  of  line  54. 

55.  From  sun  to  sun,  a  good  and  universally  accepted  emen- 
dation of  Capell's  for  the  from  shine  to  shine  of  the  Quartos.  The 
oassage  52-9  is  omitted  in  the  Folios. 

57.  Who  sets  me  else?  'who  else  challenges  me  to  a  game', 
properly  'lays  down  stakes'. 

65.  Dishonourable  boy.  " Fitzwater  succeeded  his  father  at  the 
age  of  eighteen  in  1386,  and  therefore  was  at  this  time  thirty-one." 
(Cl.  Pr.  edd.)  The  term  'boy'  is  therefore  insulting  rather  than 
descriptive.  Cf.  the  magnificent  outburst  of  Coriolanus  when  called 
'Boy'  by  Aufidius. 

"  '  Boy  ! '  false  hound  ! 

If  you  have  writ  your  annals  true,  't  is  there 

That,  like  an  eagle  in  a  dove-cote,  I 

Flutter'd  your  Volscians  in  Corioli : 

Alone  I  did  it !     '  Boy  ! '  "     Coriolanus,  v.  6.  113-117. 

67.  vengeance  and  revenge.  Shakespeare's  use  of  these  words 
elsewhere  scarcely  allows  us  to  suppose  that  they  are  used  in  distinct 
senses  here  ;  probably  they  are  instances  of  the  ceremonious  or  legal 
tautology  already  exemplified  in  plot,  complot,  i.  3.  189. 

68.  lie -giver  and ;  the  er  slurred  before  the  vowel.    See  Prosody, 
I-  §  3  (»)• 

74.  [Why  'in  a  wilderness'?     Cf.  i.  i.  63-6.] 

78.  in  this  new  world,  in  this  new  state  of  things,  new  age. 
The  original  temporal  sense  of  'world'  (O.  E.  wer-eld,  'age  of  men') 
is  often  approached  in  E.  E.  So,  "the  world  to  come"  means 
'future  ages'  in  Troiltts  and  Cressida,  iii.  2.  180. 

88.  Kreyssig  suggests  that  Bolingbroke  has  already  heard  pri- 
vately of  Mowbray's  death,  and  thus  with  the  greater  alacrity  proposes 
his  recal. 

91-100.  This  picturesque  account  of  Mowbray's  exile  and  death  was 
expanded  by  Shakespeare  from  a  tradition,  not  found  in  Holinshed 
but  recorded  by  Stow,  that  his  death  at  Venice  occurred  "on  his 
return  from  Jerusalem"  (quoted  Cl.  Pr.  edd.).  It  is  pointedly  put  in 
the  mouth  of  the  bishop,  who  by  thus  celebrating  the  career  of 
Bolingbroke's  'enemy',  and,  in  particular,  by  line  99,  which  gives  the 
lie  to  Bolingbroke's  charge  of  treason,  prepares  us  for  the  manly 
protest  he  is  about  to  utter. 

94.  Streaming.  Another  instance  of  "  the  unparalleled  freedom 
of  the  English  language  in  using  the  same  verb  in  an  intransitive, 


l6S  KING   RICHARD   II.  [Act  IV. 

transitive,  or  causative  and  reflexive  sense "  (Kellner).  This  free- 
dom was  favoured  at  the  outset  (I)  by  the  resemMance  in  meaning, 
(2)  by  partial  identity  inform  of  certain  pairs  of  transitive  and  in- 
transitive verbs,  e.g.  meltan,  'melt';  belgan,  'be  angry'  (Kellner,  § 
342).  A  group  of  verbs  having  once  arisen  in  which  transitive  and 
intransitive  senses  were  associated  with  the  same  form,  served  as  a 
pattern  on  the  model  of  which  other  verbs,  transitive  or  intransitive, 
received  the  same  extension  of  sense.  The  process  had  already 
begun  in  late  O.  E. 

96.  toil'd,  wearied. 

104  f.  Here,  as  far  as  the  play  is  concerned,  the  matter  of  Glou- 
cester's death  ends.  This  incompleteness  marks,  perhaps,  the  less 
sensitive  conscience  of  the  immature  Shakespeare.  The  present 
scene  leaves  a  strong  presumption  of  Aumerle  s  guilt;  but  it  is  not 
definitely  brought  home  to  him,  still  less  is  he  punished  for  it. 
Aumerle  was,  with  Surrey,  Exeter,  and  others,  deprived  of  various 
titles  and  rights  by  this  parliament.  Aumerle's  deprivation  is,  it  is 
true,  mentioned  below  (v.  2.  42-5),  but  it  is  attributed  only  to  his 
having  been  '  Richard's  friend  '. 

107-12.  The  loyalty  of  York  is  official,  not  personal.  Richard 
having,  by  whatever  means,  been  brought  to  resign  the  crown,  York 
without  effort  transfers  his  'lackey-like'  allegiance.  Touches  like 
'  plume-plucked '  prepare  us  for  the  otherwise  amazing  scenes,  v.  2. 
and  3.  At  the  same  time,  the  complaisant  attitude  of  the  head  of 
Richard's  party  makes  more  effective  and  dramatic  the  protest  of 
Carlisle,  'worst  in  this  royal  presence'. 

112.  In  both  Henry  and  fourth  an  extra  syllable  may  be  devel- 
oped from  the  r.  Although  this  occurs  in  Shakespeare  apparently 
only  once  in  '  fourth '  (and  that  where  Shakespeare's  authorship  is 
not  certain),  2  Henry  /•"/.  ii.  2.  55,  and  seventeen  times  in  'Heirry ', 
the  verse-rhythm  makes  it  probable  that  Henry-fou-rth  is  meant. 
See  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (iv). 

114-149.  Carlisle's  speech,  actually  made  three  weeks  after  the 
deposition  (Oct.  22),  consists  of  two  parts:  lines  114-135,  founded 
upon  Holinshed,  and  built  upon  the  plea  that  Richard  could  not 
justly  be  tried  in  hi-  absence;  and  lines  136-149,  \&R  prophecy,  which 
is  original. 

115.  'Though  I  who  speak  be  the  least  worthy  person  present, 
yet  I  speak  as  one  whom  (being  an  ecclesiastic)  it  best  becomes',  &c. 

116.  best  beseeming  me  is,  grammatically,  an  absolute  clause; 
logically  it  is  the  predicate  of  the  principal  sentence. 

115,  117.  royal,  noble.  Carlisle  calls  the  assembly  'royal'  in  his 
opening  words,  thereby  giving  point  and  significance  to  his  substitu- 
tion of  the  epithet  '  noble '. 

124.  apparent  ;  cf.  note  to  i.  I.  13. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  169 

131.  heinous,  hateful,  obscene,  like  the  Lat.  obscenuf,  in  the 
general  sense,  repulsive,  odious. 

137.  This  is  the  most  distinct  allusion  in  this  play  to  the  sequel. 

140-1.  'Wars  in  which  all  the  ties  of  family  and  race  will  be 
violated.'  The  words  kin  and  kind  are  not  always  clearly  distin- 
guished in  Shakespeare.  fCin  (O.  E.  cynri)  originally  meant  '  kind ', 
'race',  'tribe';  kind  (O.  E.  ge-cynde),  'nature'.  The  latter  sense 
was,  after  Chaucer,  more  and  more  expressed  by  the  word  'nature'; 
and  kind  tended  to  become  confused  with  kin,  a  confusion  fostered 
by  the  word  kindred  (O.  E.  cyn-red).  In  Shakespeare  kind  is  often 
used  of  a  more  general  bond  than  that  of  actual  relationship;  e.g.  of 
race,  breed,  'the  Spartan  kind  (of  hounds)';  and  so  probably  here. 

148.  resist,  probably  to  be  scanned  by  apocope  ('sist),  Abbott, 
§460. 

152.  Holinshed  says  he  was  committed  to  the  Abbot  of  St. 
Albans,  not  to  the  Abbot  of  Westminster.  He  was  actually  trans- 
ferred to  the  latter  Abbot  from  the  Tower,  but  only  some  months 
later,  June,  1400.  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

155-7.  Note  how  perfectly  the  unhistorical  scene  which  follows  is 
made  to  arise  out  of  that  which  precedes.  This  is  Bolingbroke's 
reply  to  Carlisle,  as  the  previous  speech  (founded  on  Holinshed)  is 
Northumberland's. 

154-318.  This  part  of  the  scene  appeared  for  the  first  time  in  the 
Quarto  of  1608.  See  Introduction.  A  slight  change  is  made  in 
line  319  in  the  earlier  copies,  to  conceal  the  omission.  "Bolingbroke: 
I  et  it  be  so,  and  loe  on  Wednesday  next  We  solemnly  proclaim", 
&c. 

162  f.  Richard's  opening  words  strike  the  key-note  of  the  whole 
passage  which  follows,  one  of  the  most  subtly  imagined  scenes  in  all 
Shakespeare.  Throughout,  he  plays  the  part  of  one  who  can  neither 
insist  on  his  royal  dignity  nor  resign  it,  who  by  his  own  consent 
no  longer  reigns,  but  has  not  yet  'shook  off'  his  'regal  thoughts'. 
Richard  is  still  possessed  and  dazzled  by  the  idea  of  the  kingship  he 
has  foregone;  and  his  winsome  fantastic  figure  thus  stands  out  in 
delicate  relief  from  the  crowd  of  sturdy  practical  Englishmen  around 
him,  who  respect  ideas  only  when  embodied  in  facts.  The  accept- 
ance of  Bolingbroke  by  England  was  in  reality  a  triumph  of  the 
sense  of  practical  needs  over  the  abstract  theory  of  kingship. 

1 66.  Richard  shows  the  instinct  of  the  great  orator.  Cf.  the 
similar  touch  in  Mark  Antony's  speech  over  Caesar's  body : 

"Bear  with  me ! 

My  heart  is  in  the  coffin  there  with  Caesar, 
And  I  must  pause  till  it  come  back  to  me  ". 

Julius  C&sar,  iii.  2.  no. 


I7o  KIN(i    RICHARD   II.  [Act  IV. 

170.  This  vivid  touch  betrays  Richard's  exalted  conception  of  his 
office.  Kor  him  the  analogy  between  the  Messiah  and  "the  deputy 
elected  by  the  Lord",  and  defended  by  his  "glorious  angels",  was 
very  real.  Cf.  lines  239-42. 

181-9.  Again  at  the  stimulus  of  a  simple  incident  (cf.  iii.  3.  160) 
Richard  starts  off  on  a  brilliant  but  irrelevant  fancy-flight. 

191-3.  The  true  answer  of  the  sentimentalist  to  the  man  of  con- 
crete facts.  Richard  hugs  his  emotions  and  treasures  his  pathos. 

195  f.  The  ambiguousness  of  the  word  care  makes  a  ready  opening 
for  Richard's  facile  and  somewhat  boyish  wit  '  My  sorrow  is  the 
loss  of  the  care  brought  about  by  the  termination  of  my  cares  of 
office.'  Bolingbroke  bluntly  recals  him  (line  200)  to  the  practical 
issue. 

201.  no,  ay.  'Ay'  was  regularly  written  'I',  and  both  words 
(with  eye)  were  frequently  punned  upon.  'I  must  not  reply  ay  (I) 
since  I  am  nothing ;  therefore  (being  nothing)  I  must  not  reply  no 
(i.e.  that  I  am  not  content  to  resign),  because  I  do  in  fact  resign.' 

203.  The  prefatory  announcement  of  the  artiste  about  to  perform. 

206.  Richard's  eloquence  inclines  to  this  parallelism  of  phrases: 
cf.  e.g.  iii.  3.  147. 

210.  duty's  rites,  the  ceremonies  involved  in  the  duteous  be- 
haviour of  the  subject  to  the  sovereign. 

215.  that  swear,  a  somewhat  harsh  ellipse  for  'of  those  that 
swear'. 

221.  sunshine  days.     'Sunshine'  is  not  elsewhere  used  as  an 
adj.  in  the  unquestioned  works  of  Shakespeare  (cf.  j  Henry  /'/.  ii. 
I.  187);  but  it  occurs  in  Marlowe,  Edward  II.  p.  212:  "But  what 
are  kings  when  regiment  is  gone  But  perfect  shadows  in  a  sunshine 
day?" 

222.  This  part  of  the  program  takes  Richard  by  surprise,  and  for 
the  moment  quickens  his  luxurious  and  fancifully  embroidered  grief 
into  a  cry  of  sharp  distress. 

225.  '  Against  the  existing  condition,  and  contrary  to  the  interests, 
of  the  country.' 

226.  by  confessing,  absolute  phrase,  the  understood  subject  of 
'  confessing '  being  you. 

232-3.  wouldst...shouldst.  Md.  E.  usage  would  invert  these 
terms;  but  the  E.  E.  usage  is  truer  to  the  specific  sense  of  both  •/•/// 
and  shall;  'will',  'wouldst'  implying  voluntary  action,  'shall', 
'  shouldst '  a  necessary  one.  Thus  '  should '  is  regularly  used  to 
express,  as  here,  the  necessary,  though  undesigned,  consequence  of 
a  voluntary  action. 

236.  Cf.  note  ii.  i.  64. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  171 

237.  look  upon;  'upon''  an  adv.,  like  both  'up'  and  'on'  in 
Md.  E. 

239  f.  Cf.  note  to  line  170. 
246.  sort.     See  Glossary. 

262.  Richard  borrows  this  thought  from  the  agony  of  Faustus's 
last  moments:  "O  soul,  be  changed  to  little  water-drops,  And  fall 
into  the  ocean,  ne'er  be  found!  "  (Marlowe,  Faustus,  end.) 

255-7.  This  probably  alludes  to  the  story,  to  which  currency  was 
given  by  the  party  of  Bolingbroke,  that  Richard  was  not  the  son  of 
the  Black  Prince  but  of  a  canon  of  Bordeaux,  and  that  his  real  name 
was  '  Jehan'.  A  contemporary  French  chronicle,  Le  chronicque  de  la 
trdison  et  mart  de  Richart  Deux  Roy  Denglelerre,  contains  the  follow- 
ing record  of  his  condemnation:  "It  is  decreed  by  all  the  prelates 
and  lords  of  the  council  and  of  the  commons  of  the  kingdom... that 
Jehan  of  Bordeaulx  who  was  named  King  Richart  of  England  is 
judged  and  condemned  to  be  confined  in  a  royal  prison".  (W.  A. 
Harrison,  in  J^ransaclions  of  New  Shakspere  Soc.  1883.) 

264.  A  metaphor  from  coinage,  like  'current'  in  i.  3.  231. 

267.  his,  [possessive  of  what?] 

268.  "Bolingbroke  opposes  to  Richard's  pseudo-poetic  pathos  the 
coldest,  most  annihilating  humour... Richard  cries  in  passionate  ex- 
citement: 'An  if  my  word',  &c.     Bolingbroke's  answer,  'Go,  some 
of  you  and  fetch  a  looking-glass '  recals  in  manner  the  incomparable 
coolness  of  FalstafTs  reply  [in  the  character  of  the  prince]  to  the 
indignant  address  of  the  prince  [in  the  character  of  the  king],  '  Now, 
Harry,   whence   come   you?' — 'My  noble   lord,   from   Eastcheap'. 
(/  Henry  IV.  ii.  4.  483.)"  (Kreyssig.) 

271.  Another  touch  which  brings  out  Bolingbroke's  absence  of 
personal  rancour  against  Richard.  He  aims  at  power,  and  is  stern 
or  clement  as  policy,  not  passion,  determines. 

276  f.  This  culminating  passage,  with  the  finely  invented  motive 
of  the  mirror,  gives  most  poignant  expression  to  Richard's  mood. 
Overcome  with  the  pathos  of  his  lot  he  desires  to  see  how  the  sub- 
ject of  it  looks. 

281-3.  Again  the  expression  shows  how  steeped  Shakespeare's 
memory  was  in  the  splendid  phrases  of  Marlowe.  Cf.  Faustus  (the 
vision  of  Helen),  "  Was  this  the  face  that  launch 'd  a  thousand  ships?" 

284-5.  A  touch  which  again,  like  'glory'  below,  recals  the  actual 
brilliance  of  Richard's  appearance. 

285.  faced,  'braved',  '  committed  with  assurance',  but  suggesting 
the  further  sense  'given  lustre  to,  adorned'. 

287-8.  Richard,    throwing  himself  into  his  part  as  usual,  anti- 


I7a  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  V. 

cipates  in  this  symbolic  act  his  own  ruin,  as  he  had  anticipated  (in 
act  iii.)  the  demand  for  his  surrender. 

Note  the  felicity  of  the  word  brittle  (O.K.  bre6t-an,  'to  break'), 
which  was  still,  like  'frail',  'fragile',  used  of  everything  whicli  exists 
by  an  uncertain  tenure  as  well  as  of  material  things  (like  glass)  liable 
to  fracture. 

292.  The  shadow  of  your  sorrow.  Not  exactly,  as  Richard 
interprets,  the  external  signs  which  image  forth  the  inward  sorrow; 
but  the  fit  of  puerile  passion  (as  the  self-contained  Bolingbroke 
regards  it)  which  has  prompted  him  to  dash  the  glass  to  the  ground, 
and  which  is  but  the  unsubstantial  image  of  the  genuine  unhappiness 
of  his  lot,  as  the  reflection  was  of  his  face.  \Vith  admirable  skill 
Richard  in  his  reply  uses  the  phrase  to  emphasize  the  intensity  of 
his  inner  grief  to  which  his  outer  gestures  'are  merely  shadows'. 

305.  One  more  coruscation  of  Richard's  fantastic  and  irrelevant 
wit.  But  note  the  pointed  irony  of  '  flatterer'. 

308.  to  my  flatterer;  to,  as  often,  'as',  'in  the  capacity  of.  Still 
extant  in  the  phrase  'take  to  wife". 

315.  sights.     'Sight' is  used  concretely  for  the  individual  vision, 
not  for  seeing  power  in  general.     Hence  the  plural.     Similarly  our 
(your)  'loves  ,  for  'loving  dispositions'. 

316.  As  in  line  268,  Bolingbroke  takes  up  Richard's  passionate  cry 
in  its  literal  sense.     His  unfortunate  use  of  the  word  'convey'  (see 
Glossary)  is  naturally  seized  upon  with  bitter  zest  by  Richard,  and 
turned  into  a  parting  shaft  of  scornful  ridicule  as  he  is  led  away. 
Shakespeare  puns  upon  this  senseof  'convey'  (  —  steal)  in  a  well-known 
passage,  Merry   Wives,  i.  3.  32:    "  Nym.  The  good  humour  is  to 
steal  at  a  minute's  rest.     Pist.  Convey,  the  wise  it  call." 

321  f .  The  concluding  lines  of  the  act  prepare  for  the  conspiracy 
of  act  v.  Aumerle  and  the  Abbot  are  foreshadowed  as  its  moving 
spirits,  while  Carlisle's  words  stamp  him  rather  as  one  who,  having 
delivered  his  protest,  recognized  the  evil  as  beyond  the  scope  of 
practical  politics. 

Note  the  value  of  the  touch  in  line  332,  which  indicates  that  the 
scene  just  over  has  moved  pity  as  well  as  resentment. 


Act  V. -[Death.] 

The  last  act  is  the  most  composite,  though  decidedly  the  least 
powerful,  of  the  five.  It  contains  two  distinct  subjects:  Richard's 
end,  and  the  conspiracy  of  Aumerle.  Its  effect  is  to  throw  slill 
further  into  the  background  the  earlier  career  of  both  Richard  and 
Bolingbroke.  Richard's  follies  are  forgotten  in  the  spectacle  of  the 
'fair  rose  withering'  amid  the  scorn  of  the  London  populace.  He 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  173 

has  now  only  to  endure;  Bolingbroke  only  to  act  and  rule,  which 
he  does  with  his  usual  cool  sagacity, — contemptuously  clement  to 
the  weak  Aumerle,  ruthless  to  the  more  formidable  conspirators. — 
Note  the  series  of  touches  which  serve  to  lead  up  to  Henry  IV.  and 
Henry  V.,  but  have  little  significance  in  the  present  play  :  especially 

(1)  Richard's  prophecy  of  Northumberland's  defection  (v.  I.  55  f.). 

(2)  Bolingbroke's  description  of  Prince  Henry  (v.  3.  1-22),  which 
foreshadows  in  little  his  whole  career  (Henry  IV.  and  V.).     Cf. 
especially  the  similar  passage  /  Henry  IV.  i.  I.  78  f. 

(3)  The  whole  incident  of  the  conspiracy  can  only  be  justified, 
dramatically,  as  a  foretaste  of  the  greater  conspiracy  which  forms  the 
serious  subject  of  Henry  IV. 

Scene  I. 

This  scene  for  the  first  time  shows  the  King  and  Queen  holding 
actual  dialogue  together.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  essentially 
political  inspiration  of  Shakespeare's  Histories  that  he  only  intro- 
duces love,  as  here,  to  enhance  the  pathos  of  the  political  catastrophe. 
A  generation  later  we  should  have  had  a  love-story  interwoven  with 
the  feats  of  arms. 

2.  Julius  Caesar's  ill-erected  tower.    Shakespeare,  fascinated 
by  the  personality  of  Caesar,  loses  no  opportunity  of  referring  to 
this  tradition.     Cf.  Richard  III.  iii.  I.  68,  where  the  young  Prince 
reluctantly  enters  the  Tower  precincts — 

"  I  do  not  like  the  Tower,  of  any  place. 

Did  Julius  Caesar  build  that  place,  my  lord  ? 
Buck.  He  did,  my  gracious  lord,  begin  that  place ; 
Which  since  succeeding  ages  have  re-edified. 
Prince.  Is  it  upon  record,  or  else  reported 

Successively  from  age  to  age,  he  built  it? 
Buck.   Upon  record,  my  gracious  lord. 
Prince.  But  say,  my  lord,  it  were  not  register'd, 

Methinks  the  truth  should  live  from  age  to  age, 
As  't  were  retail'd  to  all  posterity, 
Even  to  the  general  all-ending  day". 

ill-erected,  built  under  bad  auspices. 

3.  flint,  hard,  stern. 

11-15.  The  Queen's  grief  finds  vent  in  a  vein  of  high- wrought 
fancy  congenial  to  Richard's  own.  Note  again  Shakespeare's  care 
in  bringing  before  us  Richard's  outer  aspect,  and  the  swift  changes 
wrought  by  his  impulsive  temperament.  "  Shakespeare  seems  to 
have  introduced  [the  scene]  here  mainly  to  show  how  Richard,  de- 
prived of  his  crown,  has  become,  even  to  the  eyes  of  those  most 
intimate  with  him,  a  changed  man."  (Ransome.) 

(868)  M 


174  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  V. 

11.  the  model     stand,  'thou  bare  outline  of  thy  past  glory*. 
Troy  typifies  greatness  and  splendour  suddenly  ruined. 

12.  map  of  honour;  'map'  similarly  fur  'outline*  or  'skeleton'. 

13.  most  beauteous  inn.  '  most  stately  abode '.    'Inn',  properly 
any  shelter:  thence,  a  place  of  entertainment.     The  word  is  probably 
used  in  its  modern  sense; — Richard,  the  stately  hostel  where  grief 
lodges,  being  contrasted  with  the  exulting  populace  which  the  queen 
sees  around  her.    It  may  be  that  in  'alehouse'  she  intends  to  insinuate 
a  parallel  reference  to  Bolingbroke.     This  sense  of  inn  appears  from 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  imitation  in  The  Lover"  s  Progress,  v.  3  (quoted 
CI.  Pr.  edd.)- 

'"Tis  my  wonder, 

If  such  misshapen  guests  as  lust  and  murder 
At  any  price  should  ever  find  a  lodging 
In  such  a  beauteous  inn". 

14.  hard-favour'd,  'with  harsh  unpleasing  features'. 

1 6  f.  As  Richard  had  accepted  the  role  of  deposed  king  before 
deposition,  so  now  he  finds  without  effort  a  poetic  and  picturesque 
stand-point  to  view  it  from.  He  has  awakened  from  a  dream  ;  he 
is  sworn-brother  to  Necessity  ;— he  will  accept  the  constraint  imposed 
upon  him  as  the  summons  of  a  sworn  comrade.  Prof.  Dowden 
well  contrasts  Bolingbroke's  way  of  dealing  with  necessity.  "Henry 
does  not  personify  Necessity,  and  greet  it  with  this  romantic  display 
of  fraternity;  but  he  admits  the  inevitable  fact...1  Are  these  things 
then  necessities?  Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities'."  [2  Henry 
11'.  iii.  I.  92-3.]  {Shakespeare,  p.  209.) 

18.  '  Awakening  from  our  dream,  we  find  that  our  real  condition 
is  but  this.' 

20.  sworn  brother,  an  allusion  to  the  'fratres  jurati'  of  chivalry: 
• — warriors  who  bound  themselves  to  share  each  other's  fortune.  A 
relic  of  this  is  the  German  custom  of  '  Brudersc haft '  by  which  two 
friends  assume  (with  the  aid  of  certain  formalities)  the  intimacy  of 
brothers. 

24.  Our  holy  lives.  Richard's  designs  for  his  own  future  and 
for  that  of  his  queen  differ  only  in  terms:  the  one  (lines  20  2)  is 
martial,  the  other  monastic,  in  expression :  but  both  imply  pacific 
acquiescence. 

new  world,  heaven  ;  not  as  in  iv.  I.  78,  'new  state  of  things'. 

a6.  This  outburst  illustrates  the  difference  between  the  Queen's 
temper  and  Richard's  even  where,  as  at  ii.  2.  68  (see  note),  she  seems 
to  fall  into  his  mood  anil  speak  his  language.  She  had  there  refused 
to  yield  to  'cozening  hope' :  and  here  she  upbraids  Richard,  not  for 
resigning  hope, — she  herself  has  none, — but  for  lacking  the  noble 
rmge  of  despair. 


Scene  i.]  .         NOTES.  175 

28.  hath  he  been  in  thy  heart.     A  vigorous  way  of  suggesting 
that  Bolirigbroke  has  penetrated  not  merely  to  Richard's  throne  but 
to  his  heart,  and  expelled  the  'courage'  of  which  the  heart  is  the  seat. 
The  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  strangely  suggest  that  the  line  is  corrupt  and  that 
Shakespeare  wrote  "  something  of  this  sort :  '  Deposed  thine  intellect, 
benumb'd  thy  heart ' ".     The  latter  expression,   at  least,   he   was 
incapable  of  writing. 

29.  The  image  perhaps  suggested  by  that  which  Marlowe's  Edward 
uses  of  himself — 

"  When  the  imperial  lion's  flesh  is  gor'd, 
He  rends  and  tears  it  with  his  wrathful  paw, 
And,  highly  scorning  that  the  lowly  earth 
Should  drink  his  blood,  mounts  up  to  the  air: 
And  so  it  fares  with  me  ",  &c. 

Marlowe,  Edward  II.  p.  212. 
Cf.  also,  of  Antony  in  his  fall — 

"  Enob.  'Tis  better  playing  with  a  lion's  whelp 
Than  with  an  old  one  dying  ". 

— Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iii.  13.  94. 

31.  To  be  o'erpower'd,  at  being. 

34.  This  recalls  with  unconscious  irony  Richard's  own  boast,  i.  I. 
174. 

40-50.  Richard's  imagination,  continually  occupied  with  the  effec- 
tiveness of  the  part  he  plays,  carries  him  on  to  the  thought  of  the 
future  hearers  whom  his  sufferings  will  move.  The  feebleness  of 
the  speech,  and  especially  the  childish  touch  in  line  49,  tend  to  justify 
the  queen's  doubt  in  lines  26-8. 

43.  to  quit  their  griefs,  'to  requite  (or  cap)  their  tragic  tales'. 
See  Glossary :  quit. 

46.  sympathize,  enter  into,  share  the  feeling  of.  The  literal  sense 
of  'like-feeling*  is  in  Shakespeare  generally  lost  in  the  sense  of 
'  correspondence ',  '  agreement '  in  general. 

51.  The  bluntness  of  Northumberland  is  as  usual  (cf.  especially  line 
69)  contrasted  with  the  ironical  deference  of  Bolingbroke.  Cf.  also 
iii.  3.  72. 

61.  helping  him  to  all,  absolute  clause.     [The  subject?] 
66.  converts,  intrans. :  'changes',  a  common  E.  E.  usage. 
68.  worthy,  deserved,  merited. 

74-5.  The  kiss  formerly  played  an  important  part  in  ceremonial 
usage.  It  was  an  act  of  courtesy  between  partners  at  a  dance  (cf. 
Henry  VIII.  i.  4.  95:  "  I  were  unmannerly  to  take  you  out  And  not 
to  kiss  you");  and  early  in  the  century  also  between  the  guest  and  his 
hostess.  It  was  also  part  of  the  marriage-rite. — The  process  of  can- 


i;6  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  V. 

celling  a  rite  consisted,  normally,  in  inverting  it.  A  mutual  kiss, 
however,  can  be  inverted  only  by  repeating  it.  Richard  thinks  of 
the  kiss  under  the  former  aspect  in  line  74,  under  the  latter  in  line  75. 

77.  pines,  transitive  ;    elsewhere   in  Shakespeare  intrans.     The 
trans,  sense  is  however  the  original  (O.  E.  finian),  and  both  are  com- 
mon in  M.  E.     See  Glossary. 

78.  The  wedding  expedition  had  been,  in  fact,  one  of  the  most 
conspicuous  instances  of  Richard's  reckless  extravagance. 

80.  Hallowmas,  Nov.  I, — the  nominal  beginning  of  winter,  but 
in  Shakespeare's  day,  as  the  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  note,  ten  days  nearer  to  the 
winter  solstice  than  now. 

88.  '  Hetter  to  be  far  apart  than  to  be  near  and  yet  unable  to  meet.' 
On  near  for  '  nearer '  cf.  iii.  2.  64. 

89-100.  Richard  and  Queen  separate  with  a  profusion  of  that  way- 
ward fancy  in  which  both  are  rich.  That  it  is  deliberate  character- 
drawing,  and  not  merely  a  Shakespearian  mannerism,  is  shown  by 
Richard's  words,  "we  make  woe  wanton":  cf.  the  same  expression 
at  iii.  3.  164; — also  ii.  I.  84. 

102.  the  rest. ..say,  'let  grief,  not  words,  express  the  rest'. 

Scene  2. 

The  scene  consists  of  two  parts:  (I )  narrative,  the  description  of  the 
entry  into  London;  (2)  dramatic,  the  discovery  of  Aumerle's  plot. 
They?™/  is  fictitious,  in  so  far  as  Richard's  conveyance  to  the  Tower 
and  Bolingbroke's  entry  into  London  did  not  occur  on  the  same  day. 
Nothing,  however,  could  l>e  more  felicitously  imagined  than  this 
brilliant  pair  of  portraits  of  the  rival  kings;  in  which  Richard  ac- 
quires something  of  the  distinction  of  persecution  meekly  borne, 
while  Bolingbroke's  astute  complaisance  has  something  of  the  vul- 
garity of  popular  success.  The  second  part  (lines  46- 117)  is  fictitious 
in  so  far  as  the  Duchess  of  York  is  represented  as  the  mother  (instead 
of  the  stepmother)  of  Aumerle.  This  change  was  perhaps  deliber- 
ately made  with  a  view  to  the  part  she  is  made  to  play  in  this  and 
the  following  scene.  As  they  stand,  these  scenes  approach  the  verge 
of  the  grotesque :  they  would  have  passed  it,  had  the  Duchess'  zeal 
for  Aumerle  lacked  the  excuse  of  motherhood. — It  is  unlikely, 
however,  that  Shakespeare  knew  that  the  Duchess  was  in  reality 
young,  and  the  niece  of  Richard. 

2.  Again  the  pitifulness  of  Richard's  lot  is  heightened  by  the  men- 
tion of  the  tears  it  excites.  Cf.  iii.  3.  160;  iv.  i.  332. 

4.  Perhaps  a  mark  of  York's  age,  which  is  elsewhere  insisted  on 
(ii.  2.  74).  Cf.  Polonius ;  losing  the  thread  in  his  instructions  to 
Reynnldo :  "By  the  mass,  I  was  about  to  say  something  :  where  did 
1  leave?  Key.  At  'closes  in  the  consequence \..PoL  At  'closes  in 
the  consequence '.  Ay,  marry."  (Hamlet,  ii.  I.  50.) 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  177 

8.  Note  the  use  subsequently  made  of  this  horse,  '  roan  Barbery ', 
—v.  5.  67  f. 
g.  The  spirited  horse  instinctively  felt  that  it  bore  a  spirited  rider. 

15-16.  The  words  with  painted  imagery  are  grammatically 
ambiguous;  they  may  refer  either  to  what  was  actually  there,  or 
only  (as  the  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  assert)  to  what  'you  would  have  thought' 
to  be  there.  Grounds  of  style,  however,  point  decidedly  to  the  former. 
The  six  lines  12-17  consist  of  two  items  of  description,  each  made 
up  of  one  actual  feature  (the  windows  crowded  with  faces,  and  the 
walls  with  painted  imagery),  and  one  imaginary  feature  (the  speaking 
of  the  windows  and  the  walls).  The  allusion  is  to  figured  tapestry 
or  arras. 

We  have  other  descriptions  of  the  passage  of  a  popular  favourite 
through  crowded  streets  in  Julius  Ccesar,  i.  I  (of  Pompey),  Corio- 
lanits,  ii.  2.  221  (of  Coriolanus).  The  three  passages  were  probably 
written  at  intervals  of  seven  or  eight  years  (say  1593.  1 600,  1607),  and 
are  valuable  for  the  study  of  the  phases  of  Shakespeare's  style. 

1 8  f.     This  carries  on  the  trait  indicated  at  i.  4.  24-36. 
20.  Bespake,  addressed.     See  Glossary. 

37.  York  disguises  his  timidity  under  the  mask  of  a  vague  piety. 

38.  '  To  whose  will  we  limit  our  desires,  which  will  acquiesce  in 
the  limitation.'     Calm  contents  is  proleptic. 

40.  allow,  approve,  accept. 

41.  Aumerle  was  deprived  of  that  title  by  Henry's  first  parliament, 
and  remained  Earl  of  Rutland. 

46.  '  Who  are  the  favourites  of  the  new  court?' 
50.  Cf.  the  phrase  the  'new  world'  in  iv.  I.  78. 

52.  triumphs.  In  Md.  E.  the  word  is  only  concrete  when  it 
means  the  triumphal  processions  of  ancient  Rome ;  in  E.  E.  it  is  used 
also  for  any  public  festivity,  especially  a  tournament,  e.g.  "at  a 
triumph,  having  vowed  to  show  his  strength",  /  Henry  VI.  v.  5.  31. 

65.  bond;  cf.  i.  I.  2  and  Glossary. 

81.  The  use  of  the  noun  peace  in  commanding  silence,  i.e.  as  a 
quasi-imperative,  led  to  the  occasional  use  of  the  word  as  a  verb  = 
'be  silent';  e.g.  "When  the  thunder  would  not  peace  at  my  bid- 
ding", King  Lear ;  iv.  6.  104. 

90.  "York  had  at  least  one  more  son,  Richard,  who  appears  as  Earl 
of  Cambridge  in  Henry  V."  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.) 

91.  teeming  date,  period  of  child-bearing. 

98.  interchangeably  set  down  their  hands.  The  usage  was 
for  an  indenture  to  be  drawn  up  which  was  divided  into  as  many 
parts  as  there  were  conspirators;  each  keeping  one,  and  each  attach- 


I78  KINO    RICHARD   II.  [Act  V. 

ing  his  signature  to  each  part,  so  that  every  member  at  once  gave 
security  for  his  good  faith  to  the  rest,  and  received  security  for  theirs 
to  him. 

Scene  3. 

A  royal  palace.     This  was  actually  Windsor. 

i.  unthrifty,  (I)  recklessly  wasteful,  (2)  worthless,  good  fr.r 
nothing.  I'rince  Henry  was  at  the  time  twelve  years  old.  Cf. 
'thriftless*  applied  by  York  to  Aumerle  below  (line  69).  A  parallel 
was  doubtless  intended  between  the  situation  of  the  two  fathers. 

7.  unrestrained,  licentious,  lawless. 

9.  passengers,  passers-by. 

lo-ia.  '  As  to  which  he  makes  it  a  point  of  honour  to  stand  by  his 
companions,  dissolute  as  they  are. ' 

10.  which,  loosely  referring  to  the  whole  previous  statement, 
wanton,  probably  a  noun. 

20.  The  two  adjectives  sum  up  the  two  characteristics  of  the  prince 
suggested  by  lines  16-19  anc'  6-12  respectively.  The  following  lines 
are  important  since  they  show  that  Shakespeare  had  already  con- 
ceived the  prince's  character  in  the  germ,  as  he  afterwards  repre- 
sented it,  i.e.  as  intrinsically  noble  from  the  first,  not  (with  the 
chroniclers)  as  undergoing  a  sudden  reformation  upon  his  father's 
death. 

34.  If  on  the  first,  probably  to  be  explained,  with  Schmidt,  by 
ii.  3.  107,  "On  what  condition?"  '  If  your  fault  stands  on  the  first 
condition,  is  of  the  former  nature.' 

36.  Shakespeare's  authority  described  Aumerle  as  locking  the  gates 
of  the  castle  on  his  entrance.  By  substituting  the  chamber-door 
Shakespeare  gets  an  opening  for  a  little  dramatic  by-play  otherwise 
impossible  (36-45).  Note  how  ingeniously  Shakespeare  continues 
throughout  thus  to  fill  with  dramatic  detail  the  bare  and  simple  out- 
lines of  his  plot. 

43.  secure,  unsuspicious  of  danger. 

44.  '  Shall  I,  out  of  devotion  to  you,  openly  speak  treason  to  you 
(l>y  calling  you  foolhardy)?' 

49  f.  "  Xo  sharper  satire  was  ever  written  upon  the  unnerving  in- 
fluence of  a  life  passed  in  the  pursuit  of  princes'  favour,  than  the  scene 
in  which  the  old  courtier  denounces  his  son,  in  order  that  the  king's 
anger  may  not  fall  upon  his  old  head.  [He  had  made  himself  re- 
sponsible for  Aumerle,  lines  44-5.]  For  it  is  obvious  that  we  have 
to  do  here  with  no  Brutus,  with  no  manly  self-sacrifice  to  iron  duty." 
(Kreyssig.) 

54.  villain,  ere.     See  Prosody,  I.  §  3  (ii). 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  179 

57.  Forget;  cf.  v.  51. 

61.  sheer,  clear,  pure.  O.K.  scir,  'bright'.  Used  therefore  with 
special  felicity  of  running  water. 

66.  digressing,  diverging  from  the  right,  transgressing. 

67  f.  This  complaint  has  a  sting  for  Bolingbroke,  who,  after  his 
own  lament,  lines  I  f.,  inevitably  applies  it  to  his  own  case. 

79  f.  Bolingbroke's  words  at  once  prepare  us  for  the  almost  farcical 
scene  which  follows,  and  indicate  his  own  perception  that  the  matter 
was,  as  regards  Aumerle,  no  longer  serious.  With  contemptuous 
irony  he  bids  his  'dangerous'  cousin  open  the  door  for  his  mother. 

80.  A  reference  to  the  title  (hardly  to  the  subject)  of  the  ballad  of 
King  Cophetua  and  the  Beggar-maid,  repeatedly  mentioned  by  Shake- 
speare (e.g.  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  iv.  i.  66). 

88.  '  Love  which  is  cold  to  kindred  can  be  loving  to  none;  i.e.  if 
York  hates  Aumerle,  he  will  hate  you.' 

92.  Bolingbroke  does  not  concern  himself  to  seriously  interrupt 
this  voluble  stream  of  words,  but  merely  interposes  his  '  good  aunt, 
stand  up',  &c.,  at  intervals. 

94.  the  happy,  sing.  adj.  as  substantive.     Cf.  Kellner,  u.s.  §  241. 

101.  An  Alexandrine.     Prosody,  III.  §  3  (ii). 

119.  "This  execrable  line",  says  Prof.  Dowden,  "would  never 
have  been  admitted  by  the  mature  Shakespeare."  Perhaps  not;  nor 
would  the  present  scene  as  a  whole,  with  the  farcical  tone  of  which 
it  harmonizes  well  enough. — The  French pardonne(z}-moi  for  'excuse- 
me',  a  polite  way  of  declining  a  request,  was  familiar  in  English,  like 
'grammercy'.  Cf.  Mario  we,  Jav  of  Malta,  iv.  p.  172:  "  Ithamore. 
Play  fiddler,  or  I'll  cut  your  cat's  guts  into  chitterlings.  Barabas 
(disguised  as  a  French  musician)  Pardonnez-moi,  be  no  in  time  yet." 
In  Edward  II.  p.  185  we  have  the  English  equivalent:  "Bishop. 
...  Thou  shall  back  to  France.  Gaveston.  Saving  your  reverence, 
you  must  pardon  me". 

For  the  sonant  -e,  cf.  Abbott,  §  489. 

124.  chopping,  'changing',  altering  the  senses  of  words.  The 
Duchess  takes  a  thoroughly  English  view  of  the  mental  agility  to  which 
French  owes  its  wonderfully  subtle  developments  of  word-meaning. 
A  French  critic  has  contrasted  it  more  favourably  with  the  relative 
immobility  of  English.  "The  French  mind,  more  lively  than  the 
English,  permits  itself  to  be  carried  away  by  delicate  resemblances 
and  loves  to  follow  the  windings  of  subtle  analogies."  (Arsene  Dar- 
mesteter,  La  Vit  des  Mots,  p.  104. ) 

128.  rehearse,  commonly  used  in  E.  E.  in  the  loose  sense: 
'  recite ',  '  say  aloud '. 

137.  Henry's  contemptuous  mildness  to  Aumerle  is  contrasted 

with  his  energetic  rigour  to  the  other  conspirators.  His  'trusty 


l8o  KING    RICHARD   II.  [Act  V. 

brother-in-law' was  John,  Karl  of  Huntingdon,  degraded  likeAumerle 
by  the  parliament  from  his  higher  title  (Duke  of  Exeter). 

140.  several,  as  usual  in  K.  K.,  'distinct,'  'separate'. 
144.   too  is  not  found  in  any  edition  before  1634. 

146.  old.  \Vithreference  to  Aumerle's  still  unregenerate  condition, 
which  she  hopes  to  reform. 

Scene  4. 

Compare  with  this  narrative  scene  the  dramatic  treatment  of  the 
same  motive  in  King  John,  iii.  3.  60  f. 
"A".  John.  Thou  art  his  keeper. 
Hubert.  And  I  '11  keep  him  so 
That  he  shall  not  offend  your  majesty. 
K.John.   Death. 
Hub.   My  lord? 
K.John.  A  grave. 
Hub.   He  shall  not  live. 
K.  John.   Enough.     I  could  be  merry  now",  &c. 

I.  Holinshed  states  that  Exton  o%-erheard  these  words  while  in 
attendance  upon  the  king  at  table. 

7.  wistly.     The  word  was  probably  formed  from  M.  E.  "irislicht, 
'certainly',   'definitely';  whence  the  sense  'fixedly',   'steadily1,   of 
gazing.       It  was   probably   influenced   by   the   word  wish,    which 
developed  the  sense  of  a  longing  ga/e.     Hence  the  spelling  -uishtly 
in  this  place  in  Q  I,  Q  2. 

8.  As  who  should  say.    The  indefinite  pron.  u<ho.    Cf.  Abbott, 

§257- 

Scene  5. 

The  scene  consists  of  three  parts :  Richard's  monologue ;  the 
dialogue  with  the  groom;  and  that  with  the  keeper  and  Exton.  AH 
three  add  final  touches  to  the  portrait  of  Richard.  The  first  shows 
his  bearing  in  calamity, — fantastic,  but  without  a  touch  of  penitence; 
the  second  enforces  once  more  his  personal  charm  by  showing  the 
love  he  aroused  in  his  retainers;  the  third  shows  the  kingly  dilettante 
snatched  out  of  his  sentimentality,  as  Hamlet  out  of  his  will-dissolv- 
ing thought  by  the  stimulus  of  imminent  ruin,  and  satisfying  the 
aesthetic  demand  for  a  noble  end  by  dying  more  heroically  than  he 
has  lived. 

1-66.  "The  soliloquy,  .might  almost  be  transferred,  as  far  as  tone 
and  manner  are  concerned,  to  one  other  personage  in  Shakespeare's 
plays, — to  Jaques.  The  curious  intellect  of  Jaques  gives  him  his 
distinction.  He  plays  his  parts  for  the  sake  of  understanding  the 
world  in  his  way  of  superficial  fool's  wisdom.  Richard  plays  his 
parts  to  possess  himself  of  the  aesthetic  satisfaction  of  an  amateur  in 
life,  with  a  fine  feeling  for  situations."  (Dowden. )  "Richard  is  so 


Scenes-]  NOTES.  181 

steeped  in  voluptuous  habits  that  he  must  needs  be  a  voluptuary  even 
in  his  sorrow,  and  make  a  luxury  of  woe  itself;  pleasure  has  so 
thoroughly  mastered  his  spirit  that  he  cannot  think  of  bearing  pain 
as  a  duty  or  an  honour,  but  merely  as  a  licence  for  the  pleasure  of 
maudlin  self-compassion."  (Hudson:  Shakespeare:  his  Life,  &c., 
quoted  by  Dowden,  Shakespeare,  p.  203. ) 

i  f.  Richard's  mental  occupation  in  prison  is,  characteristically, 
not  reflection,  either  on  his  past  or  on  his  future ;  but  an  ingenious 
exercise  of  fancy;  an  attempt  to  solve  a  conundrum,  to  find  a  resem- 
blance between  the  world  and  his  prison. 

3.  for  because ;  either  word  could  be  used  alone  in  this  sense  in 
E.  E. ;  both  are  often  combined.  Cf.  an  if. 

8.  still-breeding.     [Force  of 'still'?] 

g.  this  little  world.  The  conception  of  man  as  a  'microcosm', 
or  epitome  of  the  universe,  or  great  world,  was  familiar  in  Shake- 
speare's day  as  the  basis  of  the  astrological  belief  in  a  correspondence 
between  the  movements  of  the  planets  and  the  fortunes  of  men. 
There  is  thus  special  felicity  in  Richard's  use  of  the  phrase  to  mean 
the  mind  with  its  population  of  thoughts. 

10.  humours.  The  word  meant  (i)  one  of  the  four  essential 
fluids  of  the  body  which,  according  as  each  preponderated,  produced 
the  sanguine,  choleric,  melancholy,  or  phlegmatic  temperament;  thence 
(2)  any  marked  peculiarity  of  disposition  or  eccentricity  of  taste. 
Cf.  the  distinction  drawn  by  Jonson,  Indttction  to  Every  Man  out 
of  his  Humour,  between  the  'true'  sense,  viz. — 

"when  some  one  peculiar  quality 
Doth  so  possess  a  man,  that  it  doth  draw 
All  his  effects,  his  spirits,  and  his  powers, 
In  their  confluctions  all  to  run  one  way", 
and  the  popular  sense — 

"  Now  if  an  ideot 

Have  but  an  apish  and  fantastic  strain, 
It  is  his  humour". 

It  was  specially  applied  to  mental  inclinations,  proceeding  from 
conditions  of  body  rather  than  of  mind,  and  thus  apparently  irra- 
tional and  capricious.  In  this  sense  Richard  compares  his  thoughts, 
which  never  find  satisfaction,  to  the  restless  agitation  of  humours. 

13.  The  thought  of  divine  things  only  discloses  the  conflicts  in 
scriptural  evidence. 

17.  needle,  frequently  pronounced  neeld,  as  here.  So  in  Du. 
naald.  The  same  metathesis  took  place  in  O.  E.  seld<set-l,  bold< 
bod-l. 

18  f.  Ambitious  thoughts  generate  equally  unsatisfying  fancies. 

21.  ragged,  used  in  the  sense  of  '  rugged',  as  often. 

23  f.  Even  thoughts  '  tending  to  content '  obtain  only  '  a  kind  of 
ease'. 


182  KING    RICHARD   II.  (Act  V. 

25.  silly,  simple. 

26.  refuge,  find  comfort  for  their  shamed  condition  in  the  thought 
that,  &c. 

31.  Thus  play  I,  &c.  Observe  the  distinction  Iwtwecn  the  two 
phases  of  thought  which  this  line  links  together.  Richard  has  given 
three  instances  of  thoughts  which  evolve  trains  of  fancy  without  find- 
ing content.  He  goes  on  to  give  three  instances  of  the  reaction 
produced  by  that  discontent  (from  kingship  to  beggary,  &c. ).  His 
wayward  fancy  is  quite  compatible  with  clear  and  ordered  thought. 

41-66.  The  sound  of  music  launches  Richard  into  the  most  elaborate 
and  abstruse  of  his  fancy-flights. 

46.  check,  rebuke. 

47 f.  Once  more  Richard  achieves  recognition  of  his  follies  in  the 
process  of  pursuing  a  fancy.  But  the  recognition  calls  up  no  remorse. 
Yet  this  application  of  the  'broken  music'  he  hears  is  fine  and  subtle. 

50-60.  This  is  an  expansion  of  the  fancy,  "now  doth  time  wxste 
me",  i.e.  by  making  me  his  clock.  Richard  compares  his  threefold 
expression  of  grief  to  the  clock's  threefold  expression  of  time;  viz. 
(I)  his  sighs  to  the  'jarring'  of  the  pendulum  which,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  'watches'  or  numbers  the  seconds,  marks  also  their 
progress  in  minutes  on  the  dial  or  outward-watch,  to  which  the  king 
compares  his  eyes;  (2)  his  tears  (continually  wiped  away  by  his  finger, 
'like  a  dial's  point ')  to  the  indication  of  time  by  the  progress  of  the 
'minute-hand';  (3)  his  groans  to  the  bell  which  strikes  the  hour. 
(Based  on  Henley.) 

60.  Jack  o'  the  clock.  An  automatic  metal  figure,  frequent  in 
old  clocks,  made  to  strike  the  bell  with  a  hammer  at  the  hour  or 
quarters.  '  Paul's  Jack',  i.e.  in  the  bell  of  St.  Paul's,  was  well 
known. —  'The  time,  tho'  nominally  mine,  brings  joy  only  to  Boling- 
broke,  while  I  am  reduced  to  the  menial  office  of  marking  its  divisions.' 

62.  Richard  probably  refers  to  the  Biblical  tradition  of  the  cure 
of  Saul  by  David.  No  one  could  have  written  the  line  who  was  not 
profoundly  sensitive  to  music.  Marlowe's  Edward,  like  Richard, 
loves  music  ( "  Gaveston  : . . .  I  must  have...  Musicians,  that  with 
touching  of  a  string  May  draw  the  pliant  king  which  way  I  please; 
Music  and  poetry  is  his  delight");  but  no  subtle  use  of  the  fact  is 
made  as  here. 

holp,  the  past  part,  without  its  termination  -en\  used  in  E.  K. 
also  for  the  preterite. 

64  6.  This  hint  of  the  affection  felt  for  Richard  aptly  precedes  the 
entrance  of  the  faithful  groom. 

66.  brooch,  a  buckle  worn  by  way  of  ornament  in  the  hat.  'l.ove 
to  Richard  is  a  strange  ensign  to  wear  in  this  all-hating  world";  a 
vivid  and  l>eautiful  image,  which  suggests  characteristically  that  such 
love  was  a  graceful  ornament  to  him  who  showed  it. 


Scene  5.]  NOTES.  183 

67.  Thanks,  noble  peer.    With  ironical  self-mockery.    A  similar 
formality  to  a  dependent  is  elsewhere  used  playfully,  as  by  Portia  to 
her  servant  (" Serv.  Where  is  my  lady? — Port.  Here;  what  would  my 
lord?"  Merchant  of  Venice,  ii.  9.  85),  and  Prince  Hal  to  the  Hostess, 
/  Henry  IV.  ii.  4.   14  (referred  to  by  Cl.  Pr.  edd.  and  Deighton). 
On  the  metre  see  Prosody,  III.  §  3  (i)  2.  (p.  197). 

68.  A  pun  upon  the  coins  'royal '  ('  rial')  and  '  noble';  the  former 
worth  10  shillings,  the  latter  6s.  8d.     The  'cheapest  of  us',  i.e.  the 
'  noble',  was  thus  nominally  worth  twenty  groats  (20  x  4  pence);  but 
both  have  so  far  descended  in  the  world,  that,  says  Richard,  the 
'  noble '  is  actually  worth  only  half  that  sum.    A  saying  of  the  queen 
had  made  this  joke  popular.     Toilet  quotes  the  story  thus:   "Mr. 
John  Blower,  in  a  sermon  before  her  majesty,  first  said:  '  My  royal 
Queen',  and  a  little  after  'My  noble  Queen'.     Upon  which  says  the 
Queen:  '  What,  am  I  ten  groats  worse  than  I  was?'"    A  similar  pun 
occurs  in  /  Henry  IV.  ii.  4.  317. 

70-1.  Note  that  Shakespeare  has  avoided  any  suggestion  of  the 
physical  horrors  which  Marlowe  has  accumulated  about  his  Edward 
II.     The  tradition  of  Richard's  having  been  starved  to  death  pro- 
vided an  opening  for  it.     Cf.  Edward  II.  p.  216: 
"  King.  This  usage  makes  my  misery  increase. 
But  can  my  air  of  life  continue  long, 
When  all  my  senses  are  annoy'd  with  stench? 
Within  a  dungeon  England's  king  is  kept, 
Where  I  am  starv'd  for  want  of  sustenance; 
My  daily  diet  is  heart-breaking  sobs. 
That  almost  rent  the  closet  of  my  heart:... 
O  water,  gentle  friends,  to  cool  my  thirst, 
And  clear  my  body  from  foul  excrements ! " 

76.  yearn'd,  grieved.  This  verb  commonly  written  'erne '  in  the 
old  editions  (so  here  ernd  in  all  editions  before  the  First  Folio),  and 
derived,  through  M.  E.  erme  (Chaucer)  from  O.  E.  ierman  (<  farm, 
'miserable'  was  in  E. E.  confused  with^wr«  (from  O.  E.  georn-ian, 
'desire')  and  so  written yerne. 

78-80.  "This  incident  of  roan  Barbary  is  an  invention  of  the  poet. 
Did  Shakespeare  intend  only  a  little  bit  of  helpless  pathos?  Or  is 
there  a  touch  of  hidden  irony  here?  A  poor  spark  of  affection  re- 
mains for  Richard,  but  it  has  been  kindled  half  by  Richard  and  half 
by  Richard's  horse."  (Dowden,  Shakespeare,  p.  204.) 

94.  jauncing,  a  term  of  horsemanship  in  keeping  with  those 
that  precede  (see  Glossary). 

95  f.  The  remainder  of  the  scene  closely  follows  the  account  of 
Holinshed. 

loo-i.  The  couplet,  printed  as  prose,  was  probably  written  as 
verse,  the  second  line  perhaps  beginning  '  Came  lately'.  See  note 
to  ii.  2.  98-122. 


184  KING    RICHARD    II.  [Act  V. 

H3f.  Shakespeare  habitually  softens  the  brutality  of  murder  and 
brings  it  >n  some  sort  into  the  sphere  of  poetry,  either  by  giving  a 
certain  refinement  and  beauty  to  the  character  of  the  murderer  (as  in 
Mact'fth,  where  the  'murderers'  are  men  "weary  with  disasters, 
tug^'il  with  fortune",  iii.  I.  1 12;  cf.  scene  3),  or  by  making  them 
repent  after  the  deed  (as  in  Kit  hard  III.  i.  4.  278-286  (the  second 
murderer  of  Clarence);  iv.  3.  1-20  (Tyrrel's  description  of  the  mur- 
derers of  the  princes);  and  here. 

Scene  6. 

The  scene  consists  of  three  divisions,  each  in  appearance  contri- 
buting to  seal  the  success  of  the  new  king.  The  conspiracy  has  been 
sternly  put  down;  the  Abbot  of  Westminster,  'the  grand  conspirator', 
has  died;  and  finally  Richard,  the  'buried  fear',  has  been  removed. 
The  last,  though  seemingly  the  climax  in  the  ascending  scale  of 
triumph,  at  once  changes  the  key  to  a  tragic  minor,  and  the  drama 
closes  on  a  solemn  and  bodeful  note  which  leaves  us  mindful  of  Car- 
lisle's prophecy  that  the  '  woes  are  >et  to  come'. 

8.  Spencer.  The  Quartos  give  Oxford,  perhaps  written  origin- 
ally through  an  oversight,  no  such  conspirator  being  mentioned  by 
Holinshed  or  elsewhere.  Nothing  seems  gained,  in  such  a  case,  by 
rejecting  the  Folios'  correction  given  in  the  text. 

22.  abide,  'endure',  'undergo',  a  common  sense  of  O.K.  dbidan\ 
not  to  be  confused  with  abide  =  'to  pay  for'  (with  the  offence  as 
object),  in  the  phrase  'dear  abide  it',  from  O.  E.  d-bycgant  M.  K-a-bien, 
thence  through  the  analogy  of  meaning  abide. 

24  f.  The  pardon  of  Carlisle  once  more  emphasizes  Bolingbroke's 
freedom  from  malignity. 

30  f.  Compare  the  more  elaborate  version  of  the  same  motive  in 
King  John,  iv.  2.  203  f;  and  with  Bolingbroke's  reply,  that  of  John 
(lines  208  f) : 

"  It  is  the  curse  of  kings  to  be  attended 
By  slaves  that  take  their  humours  for  a  warrant 
To  break  within  the  bloody  house  of  life, 
And  on  the  winking  of  authority 
To  understand  a  law,... 

Hub.  Here  is  your  hand  and  seal  for  what  I  did",  &c. 

But  John  draws  back  out  of  fear ;  Bolingbroke  out  of  genuine  peni- 
tence for  his  rashness. 

32.  Exton,  who  embodies  a  wish  in  an  action,  clothes  the  report 
of  it  in  extravagant  phrases. 

40.  Thus  Bolingbroke  himself  admits  at  last  the  charm  of  his  fallen 
rival. 

48.  incontinent,  immediately. 

49.  This  forms  the  motive  of  the  opening  scene  of  /  Henry  IV. 


OUTLINE 

OF 

SHAKESPEARE'S    PROSODY. 


INTRODUCTORY. — 'Blank  verse',  the  normal  metrical  form  of  th« 
Elizabethan  drama,  is  a  rhythmic  sequence  of  (commonly)  five 
stressed  and  five  unstressed  syllables,  commonly  alternating  without 
rhyme.  Its  principal  source  of  effect  lies  in  the  intrinsic  beauty  of 
the  rhythm,  of  which  there  were  many  recognized  and  varied  types 
found  in  all  the  dramatists,  and  many  others  specially  characteristic 
of  one  or  other  of  them.  To  the  full  appreciation  of  these  rhythms 
the  only  guide  is  a  fine  ear.  But  since  they  are  based  upon,  and 
largely  controlled  by,  the  natural  rhythm  of  the  words  as  pronounced 
and  accented  in  ordinary  speech,  the  study  of  this  is  both  the  best 
preparation,  and  the  first  condition,  of  the  comprehension  of  Shake- 
speare's verse.  Thus,  a  verse  is  felt  to  be  rough,  if  the  ten  syllables 
on  which  it  is  built,  and  the  five  stresses  which  it  distributes  among 
them,  depart  beyond  a  certain  degree  from  the  number  of  syllables 
customarily  pronounced  in  the  given  words,  and  their  common 
accentuation ;  that  is,  if  the  rhythm  can  only  be  had  at  the  cost  of 
unrecognized  contractions  or  expansions,  or  of  laying  stress  where 
there  is  no  natural  accent.  But  in  Elizabethan  talk,  there  was  still 
greater  elasticity  than  now,  as  to  the  treatment  both  of  syllables  and 
of  accents ;  syllables  now  slurred  only  in  dialect  were  suppressed,  in 
rapid  talk,  by  choice  speakers;  others  now  always  contracted  into 
one  (e.g.  the  termination  -turn)  were  often  treated  as  two  (see  below, 
I.  §  4) ;  while  the  accent,  fixed  in  the  simple  word,  could  be  shifted 
readily  from  one  syllable  to  another,  in  many  compounds  and  deriva- 
tives. The  two  following  sections  will  describe  the  material  of 
Shakespeare's  verse,  as  it  was  affected  by  (i)  syllabic  variation,  (2) 
accent  variation.  The  third  will  describe  the  verse  structure  itself. 

I.   SYLLABIC  VARIATION. 

§  i.  A  syllable  consists  of  a  -vowel  or  vowel-like  (i.e.  I,  m,  n,  r) 
together  with  such  neighbouring  consonants  as  can  be  pronounced 
with  the  same  continuous  effort.1  Hence  a  change  in  the  number 

1  For  a  more  precise  account  of  the  syllable  see  Sievers'  Phonetik,  §  26  f,  a 
classic  which  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  student  of  versification.  Also 
Sweet,  History  of  English  Sounds,  §  19  f.  The  term  '  vowel-like*  is  borrowed 
from  the  latter. 


186  KING   RICHARD   II. 

of  syllables  in  a  word  means  a  change  in  the  number  of  separate 
efforts  required  to  pronounce  it.  This  may  come  about  in  various 
way's.  Some-times  an  entire  syllabic  is  dropped,  or  inserted;  more 
often,  two  groups  of  sounds  pronounced  by  separate  efforts  are  made 
continuous,  or  a  continuous  group  is  broken  up  into  two.  The 
syllable  thus  lost  or  gained  is  always  without  accent. 

There  are  three  principal  cases :  ( I )  vowel + consonant;  (2)  vowel 
4-  vowel-like;  (3)  vowel +  vowel.  All  of  them  are  abundantly  exem- 
plified in  Elizabethan  pronunciation,  double  forms  of  a  word  often 
existing  side  by  side,  the  one  supported  by  phonetic  instinct,  the 
other  by  tradition.  In  what  follows,  a  circle  under  a  'vowel-like' 
(/,  >,  &c.)  is  used  to  mark  that  it  has  syllabic  value;  a  dot  under 
any  letter  (e),  that  it  is  suppressed  or  slurred. 

§  2.  Vowel  and  Consonant. 

A  vowel  is  often  lost  before  a  consonant,  in  any  situation. 

(i)  At  the  beginning  of  a  word. 

This  esj>ecially  affected  the  prefixes  of  Romance  words,  and  was 
an  ingrained  habit  of  M.  K.  Hence  such  double  forms  as.  'stroy — 
destroy,  Astonish — astonish,  &c.  (Ablxrtt,  §  460);  and  proliably 
Anointed  (iii.  2.  55)  with  anointed  (i.  2.  38,  &c. );  'sist  (iv.  i.  148) 
with  the  common  resist. 

It  was  also  very  common  in  unemphatic  monosyllables,  like  ;'/, 
as,  for't,  on  'I  (still  known  to  good  talkers  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
see  Boswell's  Johnson,  passim):  so  "I'll  hammer 't  (it)  out''  (v. 
5.  5).  So  we  still  use  '*  for  is,  has,  us. 

(ii)  At  the  end  of  a  word. 

This  (except  in  the  cases  described  below)  belongs  chiefly  to 
Shakespeare's  later  plays,  where  it  becomes  common,  as  in  this  line, 
written  in  1607-8: 

Even  to  th'  court,  the  heart,  to  tk  scat  o'  th'  brain. —C<?r»V>A»»««,  \.  i.  135. 

It  is  chiefly  found  in  the  (compare  the  present  North-Midland 
dialectic  th'  lad,  th?  man,  &c.1),  mostly  after  a  vowel.  In  Coriolanus 
it  occurs  105  times,  in  our  play  3  times:  e.g.  "Jack  o'  th'  clock" 
(v.  5.  60). 

In  some  common  words  a  final  -y  was  either  partially  suppressed, 
or  became  the  consonantal  y:  e.g.  marry  (i.  4.  16);  Harry  (iii.  3. 
20)  (both  monosyllabic) ;  so  elsewhere,  busy.  In  Chaucer  Counter 
bury  apj>ears  to  be  so  treated. 

(iii)    Within  a  word.     ['Syncope.'] 

This  takes  place  in  a  variety  of  cases. 

(a)  in  the  inflexion.  The  unaccented  e  of  the  verb  and  noui. 
inflexions  was  in  the  sixteenth  century  gradually  becoming  sup- 
pressed (where  no  sibilant  preceded).  The  process  was,  however, 
much  more  advanced  in  some  of  them  than  in  others.  \Ve  can 
divide  these  inflexions  into  three  strata,  or  layers,  in  the  first  of 

>  Ellis,  E   Eng.  Pronunciation,  vol.  v.  (D.  21,  &C.). 


OUTLINE   OF   SKAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        187 

which  it  is  virtually  complete  in  Shakespeare's  time,  in  the  second 
far  advanced,  in  the  third  incipient  or  partial.  Thus : 

(a)  -es  (3  pers.  sing.),  -es  (gen.  sing.).  A  few  traces  of  the  latter 
occur  in  early  plays ;  but  no  case  of  the  former  is  found  in  un- 
doubtedly Shakespearian  work.  Knockis  (i  Henry  VI.  i.  3.  5)» 
provokes  (2  Henry  VI.  iv.  7.  98)  need  not  be  Shakespeare's.  We 
must  therefore  by  no  means  admit  mistakes  in  our  play  (iii.  3.  9) 
(with  Abbott).  It  is  accounted  for  by  the  pause  (cf.  below,  iii.  §  4). 

(ft)  -eth,  -est.  Contraction  is  here  practically  universal  in  the  later 
plays,  and  common  in  our  play.  The  examples  of  non-contraction 
are  6'l  of  the  whole  in  2  Henry  VI.,  2'6  in  /  Henry  IV.,  and 
4'6  in  our  play:1  e.g.  appeareth  (i.  I.  26),  lieth  (i.  2.  4),  earnest 

(i-  3-  33)- 

In  the  superlative,  -est  is  oftener  retained,  and  always  in  the  early 
plays.  But  we  have  shorfst  (v.  I.  80),  commonest  (v.  3.  17),  and,  in 
the  same  line,  strong 'st  and  surest  (iii.  3.  201). 

(7)  -ed  (past  tense  and  participle). 

The  uncontracted  forms,  e.g.  in  redoubled  (i.  3.  80),  fostered 
(i.  3-  126). 

(6)  in  the  last  but  one  syllable. 

Words  of  three  syllables  with  an  accent  on  the  first  and  a 
secondary  accent  on  the  third,  often  suppressed  the  unaccented 
second,  wholly  or  partially.  This  was  commonest  where  a  vowel- 
like  preceded  or  followed  the  unaccented  vowel  (see  below,  §  3), 
but  also  happened  in  other  cases.  It  has  become  fixed  in  such 
words  as  Leicester,  business. 

So:  prodigal  (iii.  4.  31),  but  prodigal  (i.  3.  256);  Worcester  (ii.  3. 
22),  but  Worcester  (ii.  2.  58);  majesty  (iii.  2.  113,  3.  70,  &c.),  but 
majesty  (ii.  I.  295). 

§3.  Vowel  and  'Vowel-like'. 

Much  more  various  and  interesting  are  the  syllabic  variations 
arising  from  the  relation  of  vowels  to  'vowel -likes'.  The  letters 
/,  in,  n,  and  probably  r  stood  in  Elizabethan  English,  as  in  ours,  for 
two  ways  of  using  each  sound.  Each  might  (and  may)  have  the 
function  either  of  a  consonant  (combining  with  a  vowel)  as  in  '  ba//', 
or  of  a  vowel  (combining  with  a  consonant)  as  in  '  baub&'  ( =  baubl).2 
We  have  examples  of  both  in  the  word  '  little'  (i.e.  '  litl'). 

Through  this  doubleness  of  nature  we  easily  see  how  the  presence 
ef  a  vowel-like  may  quite  alter  the  syllabic  quality  of  a  word.  We 
must  distinguish  the  following  different  cases: — 

(i)  By  passing  from  its  consonant  (non-syllabic)  to  its  vowel 
(syllabic)  value,  the  ' vowel-like1  may  form  a  new  syllable. 

1  K3nig,  Vers  in  Shakespeares  Dramen,  p.  5. 

3  The  syllabic  I,  m,  n  are  expressly  recognized  by  the  orthoepist  Bullokar 
(1580).  Salesbury  (1547)  writes  thwndr,  which  Sweet  (Hist.  Eng.  Sounds,  8  903) 
takes  to  be  r  following  an  indistinct  vowel.  Yet  when  Saiesbury  means  a 
vowel  he  commonly  writes  i(. 


188  KING    RICHARD   II. 

Thus  the  word  entrance  (Lat.  intra-re)  l>ecame  ent-r-ante  (thence 
often  s|>clt  ent-er-ance). 

In  our  play  we  have  E»g-{-and  (iv.  I.  17:  cf.  Richard  III.  iv. 
4.  263);  redoubled  (i.  3.  80:  cf.  resemb-l-eth,  four  syllables,  Two 
Gentlemen,  i.  3.  84). 

In  this  first  case  and  some  others  the  extra  syllabic  had  a  historic 
basis  (M.E.  Engelond,  cf.  marshal  =Y.  mar&hat);  but  this  probably 
did  not  influence  the  change. 

As  a  point  of  distinction  txrtween  Shakespeare's  and  Marlowe's 
scansion  note  that  Mowbrays  name  is  in  Shakespeare  two  syllables, 
in  Edward  II.  three  syllables  (i.e.  Mowb-r-ay). 

(ii)  By  passing  from  its  vowel  (syllabic)  to  its  consonant  (non- 
syllabic)  value,  the  '  vowel-like^  may  cause  the  loss  of  a  syllable. 

Thus  often  in  the  terminations  -able,  -ible  (i.e.  -abj,  -ibj),  before  a 
vowel:  e.g.  "let  it  be  ten  |  able  in  |  your  silence  still"  (Hamlet), 
where  -ab-l-in  (three  syllables)  becomes  ab-lin  (two  syllables). 

This,  like  all  other  kinds  of  contraction,  is  rarer  in  the  earlier 
plays,  while  the  later  avoid  the  full  reckoning  of  syllables  which  we 
find,  f.t?.  in  wrinkle  in,  L  3.  230  (wrink- J  J-in);  brittle  as,  iv.  I. 
288  (britt  |  -1-is). 

Similarly,  the  syllables  -er,  -el,  -en,  and  even  -/'//  and  -aiii  (which 
in  rapid  talk  were  pronounced  r,  /,  n)  were  often  further  reduced 
before  a  vowel,  though  probably  not  to  the  same  degree  as  in  the 
above  cases. 

Thus:  Me-  \  giver  and,  iv.  I.  68  (nearly  lie-give  |  r-and) ;  br6th  \  er- 

in-law  and,  v.  3.  137  (bro-the-rin-law'nd);  m6del  our  firm,  iii.  4.  4? 
(mode-lour-firm);  6ver  him,  ii.   i.  258  (ove-r(h)im) ;  villain  ere,  v. 

3-  54-  . 

Similarly,  within  a  word,  a  vowel-like  facilitates  contraction. 

E.g.  sovereign  (i.  I.  29);  innocent  (i.  I.  103);  pelican  (King  Lear, 
iii.  4.  77;  but  pelican,  three  syllables,  in  our  play,  ii.  I.  126); 
Hereford  (always);  benh>olenc(es),  ii.  I.  250 ;  flourishing,  i.  2.  18; 
Destinies,  i.  2.  15.  In  i.  2.  73  we  have  in  immediate  succession 
desolate,  dssolate. 

So,  contrary  to  present  usage,  we  have  business,  ii.  I.  217;  but 
business,  ii.  2.  75. 

So,  in  words  of  two  syllables :  belike  (belike)  (iii.  3.  30).  And  in 
words  of  more  than  three  syllables:  generally  (ii.  2.  132);  probably 
imaginary  (ii.  2.  27),  imagery  (v.  2.  16),  sovereignty  (iv.  I.  251); 
on  the  other  hand :  customary  (fou.  syllables,  ii.  I.  196) ;  honourable 
(iv.  i.  91);  and  personally  (ii.  3.  135)  (with  slurred  y). 

(iii)  Vowel-likes  often,  however,  underwent  a  still  further  reduc- 
tion, analogous  to  the  suppression  or  slurring  of  vowels,  and  quite 
distinct  from  the  conversion  into  consonant  function. 

Thus  -J,  r,  representing  older  -el,  -er,  could  be  partially  suppressed 
before  a  consonant,  e.g.  uncle :  "  Uncle,  for  God's  sake,  speak 
comfortable  words",  ii.  2.  76;  cousin:  "We  do  debase  ourselves, 
sousin,  do  we  not",  iii.  3.  127;  remember,  i.  3.  269. 


OUTLINE   OF   SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        189 

A  somewhat  violent  example  is:  "be  valiant  and  live",  i.  3.  83, 
where  either  the  /  or  the  n  of  '  valiant '  is  thus  reduced. 

But  needle  in  v.  5.  17  is  not  an  instance  of  this,  as  it  was  pro- 
nounced (and  often  written)  neeld. 

(iv)  The  '  vowel-like '  r  often  added  to  the  syllabic  value  of  a  word 
in  a  way  peculiar  to  itself;  by  causing  a  preceding  long  vowel  to 
become  a  diphthong  out  of  which,  in  its  tuin,  two  syllables  were 
developed. — Thus:  hour  is  commonly  '  ow-ar '  (i.  2.  7).  Similarly: 
fire  (v.  i.  48);  Ireland  (ii.  4.  103);  perhaps  fair  (iv.  I.  304);  and 
probably  fourth  (iv.  I.  212). 

Cf.  i.  2.  44,  and  note  to  ii.  3.  21. 

§4.  Vowel  and  Vowel. 

Two  adjacent  vowels  often  lose  their  separate  syllabic  value,  in  a 
variety  of  ways  (technically  distinguished  by  the  terms  elision, 
apocope,  crasis,  synizesis,  synaeresis).  We  cannot  always  decide 
which  process  is  actually  assumed  in  a  given  passage  of  Shakespeare, 
but  contemporary  spelling  is  often  a  valuable  clue.  As  before,  the 
earlier  plays  tend  to  permit,  and  the  later  to  exclude,  the  treatment 
of  adjacent  vowels  as  separate  syllables. 

(i)  The  adjacent  vowels  occur  in  different  -words. 

Here  the  final  vowel  of  slightly  stressed  words  like  the  and  to  was 
probably  altogether  suppressed,  as  in  tW  one  (ii.  2.  113,  v.  2.  18), 
(pron.  than,  not  thwun) ;  th'  other  (ii.  2.  113,  but  the  other  v.  2.  18) ; 
tK  abundant  (i.  3.  257);  th'  earl  (ii.  2.  58);  tg  insinuate  (iv.  I.  165, 
(insinuate) ;  to  have  learned  (ii.  3.  24). 

While  other  final  vowels  rather  formed  a  diphthong  with  the  initial 

vowel,  as  thy  anointed  (ii.  I.  98),  sorrow  and  grief  (iii.  3.  183) ; 
&ntry*f(v.  5.  102). 

(ii)  In  the  same  word. 

As  the  vowel-like  nature  of  the  sonants  /,  r,  m,  n  leads  to  the 
absorption  of  syllables,  so  the  consonant  affinity  of  certain  vowels 
may  have  the  same  result. 

Thus  i  easily  passes  to  y,  u  to  w ,  and  a  combination  such  as  i-a, 
i-o  may  acquire  the  value  of  one  syllable  while  still  retaining  clear 
traces  of  two. 

E.g.  such  words  as  cordial  (still  three  syllables  in  modern  English), 
marriage,  conscience,  &c.  are  regularly  dissyllabic  in  Shakespeare. 

Other  words  vary:  e.g.  miscreant  (i.  I.  39),  \>\itmhcreant(i  Henry 
VL  iii.  4.  44) ;  recreant  (Richard  II.  i.  3.  106,  III);  recreant  (i.  2. 

Other  examples  are:  followers  (iv.  I.  224),  studying  (v.  5.  i);  but 
tedious  (v.  2.  26). 

The  retention  of  -ion  as  two  syllables  at  the  end  of  verse  is  com- 
mon throughout  Shakespeare1 :  admonition,  ii.  I.  117;  incision,  i.  I. 

1  Even  far  into  the  i7th  century  -si-on  (two  syllables)  was  a  recognized  pro- 
nunciation. It  is  given  by  Wilkins  (1668).  Sweet,  History  of  English  Sounds, 
§915- 

(858)  N 


190  KING    RICHARD   II. 

155  ;  imitation,  ii.  I.  23;  but  tuition,  ii.  I.  22.  This  was  regular  in 
M.  K.  -iii'ini  (in  Chaucer,  &c. ).  Less  common  is  -tan  as  two  syllables, 
e.g.  musicians  (i.  3.  288),  physician  (i.  I.  154).  The  same  holds  of 
ion,  where  the  -/-  is  not  original,  but  derived  from  a  preceding 
French  /or  .^7* :  as  in  companion,  usually  three  syllables,  but  in  v.  3.  7 
scanned  -ion. 

Again,  when  a  stressed  vowel  is  followed  by  an  unstressed,  the  two 
may  have  the  value  of  one  syllable:  e.g.  Corioli  (three  syllables,  or  four), 
Hermione  (three  syllables,  or  four),y«c*/  (one  syllable,  Henry  I'll  I. 
v.  I.  34;  but  two  syllables  in  our  play,  i.  3.  2"]Qi);Jitry-red  (ii.  3.  58); 
being  (v.  1. 91 ),  but  doing(lvto  syllables) v.  2.  21  ;  theatre  (A'ingjohn,  ii. 
I.  375,  but  three  syllables  in  our  play,  v.  2.  23).  So  voyage  (two 
syllables),  v.  6.  49  ;  prayers  (two  syllables  regularly,  e.g.  v.  3.  101). 

(iii)  Lastly,  we  may  notice  here  one  remarkable  case  of  contraction 
of  vowels,  viz.  where  this  follows  or  accompanies  the  loss  of  an 
intervening  consonant;  which  is,  in  all  clear  cases,  either  th  or  v. 
The  second  vowel  is  followed  by  r  or  n. 

Thus  even  (adv.)  is  a  monosyllable  in  85  cases  out  of  loo,1  and  the 
fiequent  spelling  e'en  shows  that  the  v  was  then  syncopated,  not 
slurred.  So  probably  in  i.  3.  208,  which  might  be  explained  also  by 
ii.  i.  (But  the  adj.  even  is  always  two  syllables,  and  un-ei-en  three; 
ii.  3.  4.)  So,  ever,  never,  over,  often  written  e'er,  ne'er,  oer  (or 
e're,  &.C.),  e.g.  iv.  I.  91;  ii.  2.  143,  3.  33;  iii.  2.  72;  but  oi-er  in 
v.  3.  3.  Seven, — se'en  (cf.  'sennight'),  probably  in  i.  2.  11-14  (four 
times). 

The  -th-  is  usually  lost  in  whe'her  (often  written  where},  rather 
(iv.  i.  15),  whither,  either.  But  we  have  whither  as  two  syllables 
in  v.  i.  85.  The  contraction  of  the  auxiliaries,  'Id,  '</,  for  would, 
had,  as  now,  need  hardly  be  noticed.  In  v.  2.  103,  we  must  assume 
such  contraction  for  the  written  thou  wouldst. 

II.  ACCENT  VARIATION. 

In  Shakespeare's  time  the  word-accent  was  in  the  main  fixed ; 
even  Romance  words  exhibit  only  few  traces  of  the  conflict  between 
Romance  and  Germanic  accentuation  which  gave  variety  to  the 
language  of  Chaucer. 

There  was  still,  however,  fluctuation  (as  even  now)  in  the  accentua- 
tion of  compounds  and  prefix -derivatives  of  both  Germanic  and 
Romance  origin.  In  the  first  case  the  fluctuations  arose  from  the 
compound or  derivative  being  felt,  now  as  a  single  word  (with  accent 
usually  on  the  first  syllable),  now  as  a  group  of  words,  with  accent 
on  the  most  important,  which  was  usually  not  the  first. 

§1.  Germanic  Words. — Thus  we  have  such  varying  stresses  as 
mankind  and  mankind,  straightway,  straightway,  and  in  our  play 
heart-blood  (iii.  2.  131)  and  heart-bl6od  (iv.  1.28);  welcome  (iii.  I.  31), 
and  probably  welcome  (ii.  3.  170). 

i  KOnig,  p.  39. 


OUTLINE  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        191 

So,  in  pronominal,  adverbial,  and  prepositional  compounds:  there- 
fore and  there/Are  are  common;  therein  and  (herein;  somewhat  and 
somewhat.  Besides  the  common  something  we  have  probably  to 
recognize  something  in.  Romeo  and  Juliet  (v.  3.  8),  "  As  signal  that 
thou  hear'st  something  approach  ". 

As  cases  of  derivatives,  e.g.  in  verbs,  besides  the  common  accentua- 
tion outntn,  gainsay,  forgive,  unairse,  &c. ,  we  have  oiitpray  (v.  3. 
109);  forbid  (ii.  I.  200);  tin/olds  (  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  I.  2). 

Participles  with  un-  have  commonly  the  stress  on  tin-  when  used 
attributively,  on  the  participle  when  used  predicatively,  as  in  un- 
born (ii.  2.  10),  but  unb6rn  (iii.  3.  88);  unking'd  (iv.  i.  220),  but 
unkinged  (v.  5.  37).  But  this  rule  is  not  absolute :  cf.  such  a  line 
as,  ' '  But  where  unbruised  youth  with  unstujfd  brain  "  (Romeo  and 
fuliet,  ii.  3.  37). 

§  2.   Romance  Words. 

In  Md.  E.  the  influence  of  Latin  has  often  thrust  the  stress  back 
to  its  original  place,  while  in  Shakespeare  it  could  fall  on  the  first 
syllable,  according  to  English  accentuation.  Thus:  secure  and 
senire,  complete  and  complete,  Extreme  and  extreme,  &c. ;  cf.  record 
(i.  I.  30),  rec6rd(\\.  \.  230). 

Regularly  we  find  aspect  (i.  3.  127),  exile  (i.  3.  151);  sepiilchre 
(i.  3.  196),  but  sepulchre  (ii.  I.  55).  On  the  other  hand,  regularly 
adverse,  but  adverse  (i.  3.  82). 

In  chastise  (ii.  3.  104)  the  M.  E.  and  O.  F.  accent  (chastisen,  chas- 
tien,  chastier)  is  retained,  as  always  in  Shakespeare.  The  modern 
accent  is  due  to  the  analogy  of  Greek  words  in  -t'fw. 

In  derivations  from  verbs  the  accent  usually,  as  now,  agrees  with 
that  of  the  simple  verb;  but  occasionally  a  final  -or,  -ive,  -able  (which 
in  O.  F.  had  the  chief  stress)  bears  a  secondary  stress,  as  often  in 
Chaucer.  Thus:  detestable,  delectable  (ii.  3.  7),  and  purveyor  (Macbeth 
i.  5.  22 — "To  be  his  purveyor");  but  conveyer  (iv.  I.  317);  also 
perspectives  (ii.  2.  1 8). 

In  the  sentence  as  in  the  word  there  is  a  normal  arrangement  of 
accents;  which  in  O.  E.  was  wholly  unlike  that  of  Md.  E.,  and  in 
Shakespeare's  time  did  not  entirely  correspond. 

Thus  it  is  probable  that  both  prepositions  and  the  definite  article 
often  bore  a  stronger  accent  than  now. 

III.  VERSE  STRUCTURE. 

§  i.  Normal  Verse. — The  essential  structure  of  Shakespearian 
blank  verse,  as  already  stated,  is  a  series  of  ten  syllables  bearing  five 
stresses.1  In  the  earliest  English  blank  verse,  and  still  often  in 
Shakespeare,  the  stresses  alternate  with  non-stresses;  (e.g.)  "  P'or 
time  hath  set  a  blot  upon  my  pride  "  (iii.  2.  81). 

1  The  words  stress  and  non-stress  are  here  used  for  the  metrical  ictus,  or  beat, 
and  the  pause  between.  It  is  essential  to  distinguish  the  series  of  stresses  and 
non-stresses  which  form  the  rhythm,  from  the  word-  and  sentence-««*«/.s  which 
are  accommodated  to  them. 


192  KING   RICHARD   II. 

Such  verses,  however,  occurring  in  masses,  as  they  do,  e.g. ,  in  the 
first  blank-verse  tragedy  Gorbodw  (1563),  would  he  insufferably 
monotonous.  The  beauty  of  Elizabethan  verse  is  gained  chiefly  by 
several  well-marked  variations  which  became  typical. 

§2.   Normal  Variations. 

(i)  Stress  variation.  Thus,  the  stresses  may  vary  in  degree ;  syl- 
lables which  bear  a  very  slight  natural  accent  being  placed  in  a 
normally  stressed  place.  Thus — 

To  scarlet  indignation,  and  bedeV  (iii.  3.  99). 
With  116  less  terror  than  the  elements  (iii.  3.  55). 

Such  lines  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  departure  from  a  type,  but 
as  examples  of  a  new  type  of  great  beauty.  Hence  their  melo- 
dious effect.  There  were  limits,  however,  to  this  variation.  E.g.  two 
•weak  stresses  rarely  come  together;  nor  are  there  ever,  in  the  five- 
stressed  verse,  more  than  two  weak  stresses. 

(ii)  Stress  inversion.  Then,  but  also  within  limits,  the  alternate 
order  of  stress  and  non-stress  may  l>e  inverted.  As  this  causes  two 
stresses  to  come  together,  and  as  two  stresses  can  only  be  pronounced 
in  succession  when  a  slight  pause  intervenes,  this  inversion  commonly 
coincides  with  a  pause  in  the  sense,  and  is  thus  found  most  often 
(l)  at  the  beginning  of  a  line,  (2)  in  the  3rd  or  4th  foot,  sense- 
pauses  commonly  occurring  in  these  places.  E.g.,  in  the  various  feet: 
(i)  Pardon  |  is  all  |  the  suit  \  I  have  |  in  hand  [v.  3.  130^. 

(3)  Should  dy'  |  ing  men  I  flitter  |  with  those  |  that  live    ii.  I.  88  . 

(4)  Unless  j  he  do  I  profane,  |  steal  or  j  usurp   iii   3.  81). 

In  the  second  foot  it  is  much  less  usual :'  e.g. 

High  birth,  |  vigour  !  of  bone  |  desert  |  in  se'rv  I  ice 

( Troilus  and  Cressida,  iii.  3.  171). 

In  the  fifth  the  inversion  has  hardly  become  typical  (i.e.  when  it 
occurs  it  is  felt  as  unrhythmical).  It  is  found  very  rarely,  and  only 
after  a  marked  pause.  At  times,  however,  a  striking  effect  is  pro- 
duced by  the  use  in  the  fifth  place  of  syllables  of  which  the  natural 
accentuation  is  variable:  e.g. 

Nor  I'  |  nor  an  |  y  man  |  that  but  |  man  is  (v.  5.  39). 

where  'man',  being  repeated,  is  unemphatic,  so  that  the  three  words 
but  man  is  have  approximately  equal  accentuation. 

Two  inversions  may  occur  in  the  same  line:  e.g. 

(i,  3)  Old  John  |  of  Gaunt  |  time-hon  |  our'd  Lan  |  caster  (L  i.  i). 
(1,4)  Speak  with  \  me,  pft  j  y  me,  |  open  |  the  door  (v.  3.  77  . 

But  we  rarely  find  two  inversions  in  succession  and  never  three. 
Hence  in  the  first  of  the  above  lines  the  second  foot  must  have  a 
stress  in  the  second  place.  Note  that  this  gives  us  a  means  of  dis- 

1  Kfinig  has  reckoned  that  it  occurs  34  times  in  Shakespeare,  in  the  2nd  place, 
against  c.  500  in  the  3rd,  and  c.  300  in  the  ist. 


OUTLINE   OF   SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        193 

tinguishing  a  shifting  of  (-word]  accent  from  an  inversion  of  (verse) 
stress. 

(iii)  Pauses.  One  of  the  most  potent  sources  of  varied  and  beautiful 
rhythm  is  the  distribution  of  the  pauses.  It  is  necessary  to  distinguish 
carefully  between  (l)  the  metrical  and  (2)  the  sense  pause.  The  first 
is  that  assumed  by  the  structure  of  verse  to  take  place  in  passing  from 
one  line  to  the  next,  just  as  in  prose  from  one  paragraph  to  the  next, 
and  in  strophic  verse  also  from  one  stanza  to  another.  A  slighter 
metrical  pause  occurred  within  the  verse  (caesura),  in  the  older  five- 
stressed  verse  regularly  at  the  end  of  the  second  foot,  where  in  MSS. 
and  old  texts  it  is  often  marked  by  a  line  or  space. 

In   early  Elizabethan  blank  verse  (e.g.   Gorboduc)   the   metrical 
pause  of  both  kinds  coincides  with  a  more  or  less  marked  sense- 
pause:  and  examples  of  this  (as  of  all  other  kinds  of  effect)  are  not 
wanting  in  Shakespeare.     E.g.  the  following  couplet: 
Farewell  my  blood;  [  which,  if  to-day  thou  shed, 
Lament  we  may  |  but  not  revenge  thee  dead     (i.  3.  57-8). 

As  Shakespeare  proceeds,  however,  he  shows  a  growing  tendency  to 
avoid  the  monotony  of  such  an  effect  by  detaching  the  sense-pauses 
from  the  metrical  pauses;  making  the  end  of  one  line  syntactically 
continuous  -with  the  beginning  of  the  next,  and  distributing  the 
strong  sense-pauses  in  a  great  variety  of  places  throughout  the  line. 
Such  lines  are  called  'unstopt'  or  'run-on'  lines;  and  the  non- 
coincidence  of  sentence  and  line  is  called  '  enjambement'. 

Sense-pauses  are,  however,  of  very  different  degrees.  It  is  only 
in  the  later  plays  that  we  find  closing  the  line  those  '  light  endings ' 
or  proclitic  monosyllables  which  '  precipitate  the  reader  forward '  on 
to  the  following  words  (e.g.  the  prepositions;  while  the  auxiliaries 
and  personal  pronouns  ( '  weak  endings ')  thus  used  only  become 
frequent  in  these  later  plays. 

The  metre  of  Richard  II.  is  that  characteristic  of  Shakespeare's 
second  period.  It  intermediates  between  the  severely  '  end-stopt' 
verse  of  the  earlier  and  the  bold  enjambements  of  the  later  plays. 
In  attempting  to  classify  the  pauses  admitted  in  the  verse-end,  the 
following  points  must  be  noted. 

(l)  The  pause  is  diminished  by  close  syntactic  connection  of  the 
parts  separated  by  the  verse-end. 

But  (2)  while  the  syntactic  connection  remains  the  same,  fas.  pause 
may  be  increased  by 

(a)  The  -weight  or  length  of  the  parts  separated; 

(&)  Insertion  of  clausesotwords  which  interrupt  the  continuity  of  sense. 

(c )  Inversion  of  the  normal  order. 

Usually  the  quality  of  the  pause  is  affected  by  more  than  one  of 
these  at  once.  The  end-pause  may  occur  in  Richard  II. — 

(i)  Between  subject  and  predicate,  often  without  modification  by 

(*)  (()- 

For  their  brvc 
Lies  in  their  purses        (ii.  2.  129). 

Cf.  ii.  3.  51,  &c. 


194  KIN(i    RICHARD   II. 

In 

the  other  again 
Is  my  kinsman         ,ii.  z.  iij  , 

'  again '  increases  the  end-|>ausc,  by  2  (b).     Kxamples  of  2  (c  !t) 
abound :  e.g. 

And  you  that  do  abet  him  in  this  kind 

Cherish  rebellion         u.  3.  146,. 

(2)  Between  predicate  and  completion  (verb  and  object,  infin.  and 
object,  auxil.  and  infin.)-     Rarely  without  modification: 

Come,  cousin,  /'// 
Dispose  of  you         (ii.  ».  116). 

Then  true  noblesse  -would 
leani  him  forbearance     .     .     . 
(b\  The  noble  duke  hath  sworn  his  coming  is 

But  for  his  own        (ii.  3.  148,. 
(«)  But  theirs  is  sweeten'd  with  the  hope  to  kare 

The  present  benefit  which  I  possess         'ii.  3.  13). 
The  king  of  heaven  forbid  our  lord  the  king 
ShsiuLi  so  with  civil  and  uncivil  arms 
(f<  Be  rushed  upon          iii.  3.  101  . 

So,  when  the  object  or  completion  precedes,  the  enjambement  being 
softened  by  (f) : 

Harry  of  Hereford.  I-incaster  and  Derby 
Am  I         (i.  3.  35). 

(3)  Clauses  and  sentences  beginning  with  than,  as,  so,  or  preposi- 
tions regularly  follow  the  verse-pause,  however  close  their  connection 
with  the  preceding  words  may  be:  e.g. 

It  is  no  mare 
Than  my  poor  life  must  answer         (v.  3.  81}. 

So  heavy  sad 
At,  though  on  thinking,  &c.          ii.  t.  30'. 

The  champions  are  prepared,  and  stay 
for  nothing  but  his  majesty's  approach          i   3.  4}. 

to  be  upright  judge 
O/'noble  Richard        (iv.  i.  119;. 

retired  himself 
To  Italy  ;iv.  i.  97  . 

what  thy  soul  holds  dear,  imagine  it 
7>  lie  that  way  thou  go'st    i.  3.  287). 

(iv)  Omission  of  syllables.     Sometimes  the  number  of  syllables  is 
less  than  the  normal  ten,  the  stresses  rcmaining_/f<r.     This  happens 
especially  after  a  marked  pause,  and  is  thus  found  in  the  same  situa- 
tion as  (ii).     But  it  hardly  became  a  regular  type.     E.g. 
(1st  foot). 

Stay',  |  the  king7  |  hath  thrown'  |  his  ward'  |  er  down!     (i.  3.  318). 
So  i.  I.  20 ;  iii.  2.  2. 
(3rd  foot). 

Yea,  lookst'  1  thou  pale'?  i  — Let'  |  me  see'  |  the  writing'     (v.  a.  57). 

So  also  iii.  3.  lo,  103. 


OUTLINE  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.       195 

(4th  foot). 

Of  good'  |  old  A'  |  braham\  |  —Lords'  |  appell'ants    (iv.  i.  103). 

This,  like  all  other  irregularities,  is  commonest  after  a  change  oj 
speakers  (the  most  marked  of  all  dramatic  pauses).  Cf.  Hamlet, 
iii.  4.  139— 

This  bodiless  creation  ecstacy 
Is  very  cunning  in. 
Hamlet.  Ecstacy ! 

(v)  Extra  syllables.  The  pause  tends  to  break  the  metrical  con- 
tinuity of  what  precedes  and  follows  it,  and  thus,  as  already  shown, 
occasions  irregularity.  But  the  irregularity  may  consist  in  addition 
as  well  as  the  loss  of  syllables.  It  is  commonest  immediately  before 
the  verse-pause  (i.e.  at  the  end  of  the  line).1  In  this  place,  indeed, 
it  is  the  most  frequent  of  all  deviations  from  the  primitive  type ;  in 
the  hands  of  Shakespeare  and  his  successors  it  became  a  typical 
variation ;  with  Fletcher  it  tended  to  exclude  the  simpler  type  alto- 
gether. Examples  abound  everywhere. a  E.g. 

To  pay  their  awful  duty  to  our  presence    (iii.  3.  76). 

This  is  less  common  immediately  after  the  pause  (i.e.  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  line) :  e.g. 

And  quite  lost'  |  their  hearts' :  the  nobles  hath  he  fined    (ii.  i.  247). 

So  ii.  2.  91 ;  iii.  2.  3. 

Much  less  common  are  two  extra  syllables,  where  not  explainable 
by  syncope  or  slurring,  as : 

And  as  I  am  a  gentleman  I  credit  him     (iii.  3.  120). 

An  extra  syllable  also  often  accompanies  the  pause  within  the 
•verse  ( '  caesura ' ). 3  Thus : 

To  say  King  Rich  |  ard :  alack'  |  the  hea  |  vy  day7    (iii.  3.  8). 

So  v.  2.  71 ;  v.  2.  IOI ;  v.  5.  109. 
And  at  a  break  in  the  dialogue : 

What  says  his  maj'  |  esty?— Sor7  |  row  and  grief  |  of  heart'    (iii.  3.  183). 

So  v.  2.  1 10;  ii.  I.  141. 

In  the  later  plays,  extra  syllables  are  freely  introduced  in  other 
places ;  and  occasionally  in  our  play : 

Now  by  mine  honour,  by  my  life,  by  my  troth     (v.  2.  78). 

So  i.  3.  83 ;  and  probably  iv.  I.  329. 

One  class  of  extra-syllabled  lines  is  found,  however,  indiscrimi- 
nately in  all  periods,  and  especially  in  the  English  Histories:  viz. 

1  On  the  chronological  value  of  double-endings,  see  Introduction,  §  4. 

4  This  was  common  in  the  oldest  (French)  iambic  verse,  and  in  Chaucer,  and 
normal  in  Italian  ;  but  was  almost  entirely  avoided  by  the  first  English  writer  of 
blank  verse,  Surrey. 

3  This  was  common  in  the  French  epic  iambic  (Chanson  de  Roland],  and 
occasional  in  Chaucer. 


196  KING    RICHARD    II. 

those  composed  of,  or  containing,  proper  names.  They  appear  to  be 
often  on  principle  extra-metrical,  and  in  any  case  comply  very  loosely 
with  the  metre  ;  e.g.  ii.  I.  279,  283-4  (and  note  to  the  last  passage). 

§3.   Less-usual  Variations. 

(i)  Omission  of  stresses.  Occasionally,  one  of  the  five  stresses  is 
omitted,  likewise  in  consequence  of  a  strong  pause. 

Their  fruits  |  of  dut  |  y — '  i  superfluous  branches     (iii.  4.  6j\ 

At  a  break  in  the  dialogue : 

Ho!  who'  (i  s  |  within'  |  there. — '  |  Sad'dle  |  my  horse'     'v.  a.  74). 

And  v.  2.  64  (fear  as  two  syllables). 

Many  of  the  four-stress  lines  in  Shakespeare  come  under  this  head, 
and  are  to  be  thus  regarded  as  irregular  specimens  of  the  ordinary 
iambic  rather  than  as  genuine  four-stress  verses.  But  the  presence 
of  these  last  is  undoubted. 

In  all  Shakespeare's  plays  we  find,  scattered  among  the  normal 
five-stress  iambics,  short  or  fragmentary  verses  of  from  one  to  four 
feet.  Those  of  one  foot  are  often  rather  to  be  regarded  as  extra- 
metrical  ;  those  of  four  feet  are  very  rare.  Except  in  the  later  plays, 
these  short  verses  are  habitually  marked  off  from  the  normal  verses 
in  which  they  occur  by  decided  pauses  or  breaks  in  the  sense. 

Two  classes  of  short  line  may  be  distinguished,  which  we  may 
call  the  exclamatory  and  the  interrupted,  respectively.  In  the  first 
class,  the  brevity  of  the  verse  marks  the  interjectional  character  of 
what  it  expresses ;  in  the  second,  it  marks  some  abruptness  in  the 
dialogue,  being  incomplete  merely  because  the  next  speaker  begins 
a  new  verse. 

I.  Exclamatory. — Under  this  head  we  find  a  quantity  of  expres- 
sions ranging  from  the  matter-of-fact  order  and  the  formal  address, 
to  the  ejaculation  of  high-wrought  passion  and  pathos.  The  former 
seems  to  be  detached  from  the  normal  verse  as  being  more  prosaic 
(just  as  formal  documents,  letters,  &c. ,  are  commonly  detached  from 
the  verse),  the  latter  to  give  them  greater  moment  and  distinction. 

Thus  we  have : 

(a)  Matter-of-fact  remarks,  orders,  &C. 

"Bring  forth  these  men"  (iii.  I.  i);  "Call  forth  Bagot"  (iv.  I.  I, 
also  iv.  i.  2);  "  But  stay,  here  come  the  gardeners"  (iii.  4.  24). 

(b)  Exclamations. 

"  Help,  help,  help!"  (v.  5.  104);  "  Amen"  (i.  4.  65);  "Tut,  tut" 
(ii.  3-  86). 

So  v.  3.  41. 

The  exclamation  Oh  appears  sometimes  even  to  be  intruded  into 
the  body  of  a  verse  otherwise  normal,  as  an  extra-metrical  syllable « 
e.g.  iii.  4.  55;  cf.  Abbott,  §  512. 

(c)  Addresses  or  appeals. 

Several  striking  instances  occur  in  this  play. 

"(Kick.)  Here  cousin"  (iv.  i.  182);  "(Car/.)  Marry,  God  fcrbid" 
(iv.  i.  114);  "(AM.)  My  lord"  (iv.  I.  326). 


OUTLINE   OF  SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        197 

The  second  gives  weight  to  Carlisle's  bold  protest,  the  third  well 
expresses  the  cautious  hesitation  of  the  Abbot. 

Cf.  also:  " Bol.  Carlisle,  this  is  your  doom"  (v.  6.  24).  ''''Rich. 
Draw  near"  (i.  3.  123). 

Of  a  simpler  kind  are  ii.  3.  2;  v.  I.  95 ;  v.  3.  46;  iii.  3.  31,  &c. 

2.  Interrupted.  — The  simplest  cases  of  the  line  left  incomplete  by 
interruption  is  where  the  following  speaker  has  not  heard  it :  e.g. 

Bol.  Have  thy  desire. 

York.  [Within]  My  liege  beware;  look  to  thyself  (v.  3.  38); 

or  converses  with  a  different  person  than  the  first  speaker. 

Card.  That  tell  black  tidings. — 

Queen.  O,  I  am  pressed  to  death  for  want  of  speaking  (iii.  4.  71) ; 

or  more  commonly,  ignores  the  first  speaker.     So,  in  King  John, 
ii.  I.  276,  the  Bastard's  interruptions  are  ignored  by  the  kings,  whose 
speeches  begin  fresh  lines. 
So  York  and  the  Duchess : 

Duck.  What  is  the  matter,  my  lord? 

York.  Who  is  within  there? — Saddle  my  horse. . . 

Duck.  Why,  what  is  it,  my  lord  ? 

York.  Give  me  my  boots,  I  say ;  saddle  my  horse  (v.  2.  73). 

Or  the  following  speaker  impatiently  interrupts  the  former :  e.g. 

Bol.  My  gracious  lord — 

Rich.  Fair  cousin,  you  debase  your  princely  knee  (iii.  3.  189); 
and 

North.  My  lord — 

Rich.  No  lord  of  thine,  thou  haught  insulting  man  (iv.  i.  253). 

Thence  it  is  used  where  a  speaker  interrupts  himself;  and  thus 
expresses  the  confused  bewilderment  of  York  in  ii.  2.  98  f. ,  e.g. 

Dispose  of  you. 

Gentlemen,  go  muster  up  your  men  (ii.  2.  118). 

So,  especially  where  a  speaker  breaks  off  on  the  arrival  of  a  fresh 
person.  E.g. 

Than  your  good  words.     But  who  comes  here?  (ii.  3.  20). 
So  ii.  3.  67. 

Sometimes  the  want  of  continuity  emphasizes  the  difference  of  rank 
or  of  standpoint  between  two  speakers,  and  serves  to  distinguish  the 
formal  or  business  talk  of  a  superior  with  an  inferior  from  an  intimate 
conversation. 

York.  What  is't,  knave? 

Serv.  An  hour  before  I  came,  the  duchess  died  (ii.  2.  97). 

So  in  the  dialogue  between  Richard  and  the  groom  (v.  5.  8l); 
and  probably  in  that  of  the  Queen  with  her  lady  (iii.  4.  3) ;  the 
Queen  and  Green  (ii.  2.  61);  Richard  and  Bushy  (i.  4.  53);  and, 
perhaps,  of  Northumberland  and  Percy  (ii.  3.  23  f.) ;  Bolingbroke 
and  Percy  (v.  3.  12,  15). 

The  irregularity  of  the  dialogue  in  v.  2.  53  f.  seems  to  emphasize 
the  embarrassed  behaviour  of  Aumerle.  Note  the  two  four-stress 
verses,  v.  2.  53  and  55. 


198  KING    RICHARD   II. 

Instances  of  short  lines  imbedded  in  the  verse,  except  under  these 
conditions,  arc  very  rare,  except  in  the  latest  plays,  where  every 
kind  of  licence  is  taken  with  lordly  privilege.     Richard's 
I  live  with  bread  like  you,  feel  want. 
Taste  grief,  aeed  friends:  subjected  thus   iii.  4.  175-6 

may  perhaps  (if  authentic)  l>e  an  instance  of  brevity  for  emphasis. 
At  anyrate,  no  one  with  a  fine  ear  will  wish  this  impressive  couplet 
away. 

A  similar  case  is  i.  3.  279. 

(ii)  Extra  stresses.  Verses  of  six  or  more-stresses  are  far  rarer ;  but 
their  existence  is  unmistakable. 

Commonly  there  is  a  decided  pause  after  the  third  foot : 

Found  truth  in  all  but  one ;   I  in  twelve  thousand  none    iv.  i.  171). 

So  v.  3.  IOI ;  v.  3.  42;  ii.  I.  94;  iv.  I.  19. 

In  the  following  the  |»use  is  slighter,  but  still  in  the  middle: 
How  dares  thy  harsh  rude  tongue  sound  this  unpleasing  news  ?  iii   4.  74}. 

So  ii.  3.  29. 

Rarely,  the  pause  is  after  the  fourth  foot,  as  in  v.  2.  70;  or  there 
is  no  pause,  as  in  ii.  4.  6. 

Usually  the  long  verse  serves,  like  some  examples  of  the  short 
verse,  to  give  weight  and  emphasis;  the  metrical  isolation  throwing 
the  thought  so  isolated  into  relief.  A  signal  example  of  this  is 
Exton's  recital  of  Bolingbroke's  words : 

Have  I  no  friend  will  rid  me  of  this  living  fear?  '  v.  4.  a). 

§4.  Rhyme. 

As  noticed  in  the  Introduction,  Richard  II.  stands  alone  among 
the  Histories,  and  resembles  the  early  Comedies,  in  its  free  use  of 
rhyme.  Shakespeare's  use  of  rhyme  in  these  plays  was  not  severely 
consistent ;  and  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  discover  nice  calculation 
in  every  instance  of  it.  But  neither  was  it  by  any  means  wholly 
arbitrary ;  and  we  easily  detect  three  principles  which  direct,  without 
al)solutely  determining,  his  use  of  it. 

(i)  Final. — First,  it  is  used,  in  a  purely  formal  way,  to  close  both 
a  scene  and  a  speech.  The  former  use  Shakespeare  retained  to  the 
end  of  his  career  as  a  single  couplet.  In  our  play  it  may  be  several 
couplets,  as  i.  i.  200  f. ;  2.  69  f.  Of  the  latter  we  have  examples  in 
i.  i.  18-19,  43-6,  82-3,  107-8,  &c. 

Kven,  apparently,  at  the  end  of  one  division  of  a  speech,  as  i.  3. 
65-9  (where  Bolingbroke  turns  to  address  his  father). 

(ii)  Epigrammatic. — The  final  couplet  of  a  speech  often  clinches  it 
with  an  epigram;1  and  the  first  use  is  closely  connected  with  the 
extensive  use  of  the  couplet  for  epigrammatically  pointed  speech. 

This  is  peculiarly  common  in  the  language  of  Richard,  and  is 
used,  like  his  word  -  play,  with  evident  intention,  to  mark  his 

1  Note  the  Elizabethan  fondness  for  this  clinching  final  couplet,  as  shown  by 
the  form  assumed,  in  defiance  of  all  Italian  tradition,  by  the  Shakespearian 
sonnets. 


OUTLINE  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S   PROSODY.        199 

character.  Thus  it  is  used  to  point  his  retort  to  Mowbray  (i.  3. 
I74-5)»  to  Gaunt  (ii.  I.  139-40),  to  York  (ii.  I.  145-6,  153-4),  to 
Bolingbroke  (iv.  I.  191-202,  317-18),  and  his  self-mockery  (iii.  3. 
178-82). 

Again,  it  points  the  epigrams  of  Gaunt  in  i.  3.  221-46. 

Bolingbroke,  who  is  throughout  very  sparing  of  rhymes  (except  of 
the  purely  formal  first  type),  points  with  it  his  bitter  comment  (i.  3. 
214-5)  an(l  his  raillery  (v.  3.  79-82). 

(iii)  Lyric. — The  habitual  use  of  rhymed  verse  for  the  lyric,  made 
it  natural  to  use  it  also  in  passages  approaching  the  lyric  in  character, 
i.e.  expressing  emotion;  especially  plaintive  and  elegiac  emotion. 

Thus,  it  marks  the  parting  of  Richard  and  the  Queen  (v.  i.  86  f. ), 
the  last  words  of  Gaunt  (ii.  I.  135-9),  and  of  Richard  (v.  5.  109-12); 
Richard's  'sweet  way  to  despair',  iii.  2.  209-19;  iv.  214-21; 
Mowbray's  grief,  i.  3.  175  (but  not  his  long  speech,  i.  3.  154-173); 
Carlisle's  lament  (iv.  i.  322-3);  Exton's  penitence  (v.  5.  112  f.); 
and  Bolingbroke's  (v.  6.  30-52).  In  the  end  of  iii.  4  it  marks  the 
change  from  narrative  to  lamentation  ("Queen.  Come,  ladies,  go", 
&c. ,  iii.  4.  96  f. ).  In  the  Duchess'  appeal  (v.  3.  92  f.)  it  probably 
marks  the  plaintive  rather  than  energetic  passion  of  an  old  woman. 
Shakespeare  clearly  did  not  mean  the  pleading  of  the  '  shrill-voiced 
suppliant'  to  be  very  pathetic. 

On  the  other  hand,  rhyme  is  not  used  (except  of  the  first  type), 
as  a  rule,  in  passages  of 

1 I )  Active  movement  or  business-like  discussion. 

It  is  thus  rare  throughout  the  second  act,  and  in  the  part  of 
Bolingbroke  in  general.  Its  use  in  v.  6.  6  is  anomalous,  and 
perhaps  marks  the  close  of  the  play. 

(2)  Narrative :  e.g.  York's  account  of  the  entry  into  London  (v. 
2) ;  the  dialogue  of  the  gardeners  (iii.  4). 

(3)  Energetic  and  eloquent  passion:  e.g.  the  dying  speech  of  Gaunt, 
and  in  the  more  vigorous  outbursts  of  Richard. 


GLOSSARY. 


advice  (i.  3.  233).  judgment,  con- 
sideration. O.  r .  avis;  <  Late  L. 
I*at.  *ad-visum.  Written  ad-vis  in 
15th  century  through  influence  of 
I^atin.  Originally,  "the  way  a  thing 
is  looked  at,  opinion,  judgment 
(Murray).  Similarly,  advised  (i.  3. 
188),  '  with  judgment '. 

allow  (v.  2.  40),  recognize,  sanc- 
tion. O.  F.  alouer  represents  both 
\..iillauJarc.  'commend',  and  allo- 
care, '  place ' ;  the  notions  of  approval 
and  of  granting  being  sufficiently 
near  to  ndp  the  identification.  In 
M.  E.  and  E.  E.  theformerpredomi- 
nates,  in  Mod.  E.  the  latter.  The 
//  is  due  to  the  influence  of  I^atin. 

amazing  (i.  3.  81).     See  note. 

annoyance  (iii.  2.  16),  what  pro- 
duces hatred,  injury.  Formed  from 
the  simple  annoy  (subst.).  O.  F. 
anoy,  probably  from  Lat.  in  odio 
in  the  phrase  'est  mihi  in  odio', 
'  it  is  to  me  hateful';  O.  Venet.  con- 
tains the  full  form  inodio,  '  dislike'. 
The  word  is  thence  far  more  forcible 
than  in  Mod.  E.  The  M.  E.  anoy 
was  often  shortened  to  noy;  was 
hence  interpreted  as  if  from  a-noy. 
and  the  n  doubled  in  I5th  century 
by  form  association  with  words  like 
announce  (Murray). 

antic(iii.  2. 162  Kgrotesque  figure. 
Apparently  from  Ital.  antico,  'old', 
but  from  the  first  applied  in  Eng- 
land in  the  sense  of  Ital.  grottesco, 
i.e.  '  bizarre',  '  odd  '  (from  the  fan- 
tastic representations  of  forms  found 
in  underground  caverns  (grottoes)  of 
Rome;  hence  used  in  i6th  and  17111 
centuries  in  all  the  senses  of  the 
later -borrowed  word  'grotesque' 
(Murray),  being  applied  e.g.  to^.ir- 
goyles,  grotesque  pageants  or  anti- 
masks,  and,  as  here,  to  the  skele- 


ton which  symbolized  Death,  bo 
Donne,  elegies — 

"  Name  n«  thne  living  Deatht-hedt  onto  tne, 
For  thetc  not  ancient  but  antique  be  "  ; 

and  /  Henry  VI.  iv.  7.  18.  "Thou 
antic  Death,  which  laugh  .st  us  here 
to  scorn  ". 

appeach  (v.  2.  79),  impeach. 
"Represents  an  earlier  anpecke, 
M.  E.  or  O.  F.  form  of  eatptcher. 
<  'L..  imped  i  care,  'catch  by  the  feet', 
'entangle'"  (Murray).  Colloqui- 
ally shortened  to  peach. 

approved  (ii.  3.  44),  tried,  at- 
tested by  experience.  Approve  <  O. 
F.  af  rover,  <  I^at.  ad-probart,  '  to 
make  good';  hence  'show',  'de- 
monstrate '.  The  Mod.  E.  use  re- 
fers rather  to  the  result  of  demon- 
stration, i.e.  'assent';  an  instance 
of  the  frequent  development  of 
meaning  from  cause  to  efect.  See 
inherits  below. 

argument  (i.  i.  12),  subject;  O. 
F.  argument,  <  Lat.  argtttnentum. 
In  E.  E.  often  used  loosely  for  '  that 
which  is  the  subject  of  discourse ', 
so  any  matter  or  subject.  Similarly, 
'  reason  '  was  often  used  loosely  for 
'discourse',  'conversation'.  In 
Mod.  E.  both  words  have  returned 
to  their  stricter  reference  (as  in  Lat. ) 
to  discussion  which  aims  at  proof. 

atone  (i.  i.  202),  reconcile;  from 
M.  E.  at  00*  ('at  one'),  the  pro- 
nunciation of  which  was  preserved 
through  the  isolation  of  the  com- 
pound from  its  parts  in  meaning, 
even  when  one  came  to  be  pro- 
nounced, as  now,  w\n. 

attach  (ii.  3.  156),  arrest;  O.F. 
atachier.  from  a  root  probably  cog- 
nate with  English  tack;  hence  pro- 
bably =  '  to  tack  to  .  "  The. .  sense 
of  'arrest'  arose  in  Ang.  Fr.  and 


GLOSSARY. 


Eng.  as  an  elliptical  expression  for 
'  attach  by  some  tie  to  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  a  court ',  i.e.  so  that  it  shall 
have  a  hold  on  the  party.  A  man 
might  thus  be  '  attached '  or  nailed 
'  by  his  body ',  '  by  his  goods  and 
chattels',  or  'by  sureties  for  his 
appearance '.  In  the  first  two  cases 
'attachment'  consisted  of  arrest 
ind  detention  "  (Murray). 

attainder  (iv.  i.  24),  dishonour- 
ing accusation;  a  figurative  use  of 
the  legal  term,  which  meant  '  the 
legal  consequences  of  judgment  of 
death  or  outlawry',  i.e.  the  forfeiture 
of  estate,  extinction  of  all  civil  rights. 
<  O.  F.  ateindre,  'to  attain',  used 
as  a  substitute;  hence  '  to  strike, 
seize,  condemn  ' ;  '  subsequently 
warped  by  association  with  F. 
teindre,  '  to  stain ',  and  thus  defined 
by  lawyers  as  ' '  the  stain  or  corrup- 
tion of  blood  of  a  criminally  con- 
demned", i.e.  his  inability  to  inherit 
or  bequeath  (Murray). 

baffling  (i.  i.  170),  disgracing. 
The  immediate  source  was  the 
Northern  dialectic  bauchle,  origin- 
ally used  of  a  punishment  inflicted 
on  recreant  knights.  The  further 
history  of  the  word  is  very  obscure. 
Cf.  Murray  s.v. 

band(i.  i.  2),  bond.  M.  E.  band, 
bqnd,  from  *  band,  the  stem  of  O.  E. 
bind-an,  'to  bind',  but  not  itself 
found  in  O.  E.  In  M.  E.  the  a  be- 
fore nd  was  variously  treated  in 
different  dialects ;  in  Langland  it  is 
a,  in  Chaucer  p  (Sweet,  Hist.  E. 
Sounds,  §  646).  Bond  and  band 
thence  passed  into  E.E.  in  senses 
which  then  partly  overlapped,  but 
have  since  served  to  differentiate 
the  two  words:  'band'  having  now 
reference  chiefly  to  physical,  '  bond ' 
chiefly  to  moral,  or  legal,  ties. 

barbed  (iii.  3.  117),  armed  or 
caparisoned  with  a  barb  or  bard, 
i.e.  a  covering  for  the  breast  and 
flanks  of  a  war-horse,  made  of  metal 
plates,  or  of  leather  set  with  metal 
spikes  or  bosses.  Properly  barded, 


from  bard,  <  F.  barde,  '  horse- 
armour',  probably  from  Arabic 
(Murray). 

bay  (ii.  3.  128),  to  the  bay.  See 
note.  ' '  Two  different  words  seem 
to  be  here  inextricably  confused. 
Originally  tc  hold  at  bay  seems 

<  O.  F.    tenir  a  bay,    where  bay 
means  the  state  of  suspense... indi- 
cated by  the  open  mouth  (late  Lat. 
badare,  '  to  open  the  mouth '.    But 
to  stand  at  bay... corresponds   to 
Mod.  F.  itre  aux  abois,  '  to  be  at 
close  quarters    with    the    barking 
dogs ' ;  and  bay  is  here  aphetically 
formed  from  O.  F.  abai,  'barking'" 
(Murray). 

beholding  (iv.  i.  160),  obliged, 
indebted ;  an  E.  E.  corruption  of 
the  part,  beholden  of  M.  E.  beholden 

<  O. E.    be-healdan,    'to    obtain, 
hold;    behold,    attend    to'.      The 
sense  of  oblige,  engage,  is  not  found 
except  in  thepartic. ,  but  arises  easily 
out  of  the  sense  '  to  hold '.     Mur- 
ray   suggests    that    ' '  the  general 
acceptance  of  beholding  may  have 
been  due  to  a  notion  that  it  meant 
'  looking '  (e.g.  with  respect  or  de- 
pendence)". 

beshrew  (iii.  2.  204),  a  mild  im- 
precation, often  playful.  M.  E.  be- 
shrewen  had  the  stronger  and  older 
sense,  '  to  make  evil,  corrupt ' ;  <  M. 
E.  shrewe,  'evil'  (the  shrewe  was 
often  =' the  devil').  The  O. E. 
scredwa  has  only  the  sense  '  shrew- 
(or  barn-)  mouse",  but  this  was 
doubtless  the  same  word,  meaning 
'  the  destructive  one ' .  The  word 
mouse  itself  means  '  stealer '. 

bespeak  (v.  2.  20),  O.  E.  be- 
sprecan,  '  to  speak  of  (about) '.  In 
M.  E.  it  acquired  also  the  sense  of 
speaking  with,  to.  This  is  the 
commonest  sense  in  E.  E.  as  here. 
The  Mod.  E.  sense  '  to  order '  is  a 
specialization  of  the  original  sense. 
It  also  occurs  in  Shakespeare. 

betid  (v.  i.  42),  happened.  M.  E. 
be-tiden,  'happen',  a  synonym  of 
tiden  <  O.  E.  tld-an,  happen. 


202 


KING    RICHARD   II. 


boot  (i.  i.  164).  'help,  redress'. 
O.  K.  hot,  (i)  advantage,  profit;  (a) 
amends.  The  legal  sonse  of  atone- 
ment for  an  olfcncc  arose  from  the 
general  one  of  '  profit ',  as  in  the 
Germ.  liuisf.  'fine',  'penance'. 

caitiff  (i.  a.  53).  captive  (fa.  as 
being  vanquished).  <  Norm.  F. 
caitif,  'captive,  weak,  miserable', 
Lat.  captivum.  Note  that  its  Norm, 
origin  is  marked  by  the  retention  of 
Lat.  c  before  a ;  which  most  French 
dialects  turned  to  ch  (cf.  cattle  and 
chattel,  castle  and  F.  chateau ; 
caiti/  itself  and  F.  cMi/.)  The 
words  caff  A  and  chase  have  come 
to  us,  the  one  from  the  Picard  dia- 
lect, the  other  from  some  dialect  of 
central  France. 

chopping  (v.  3.  124),  changing. 
This  sense  is  clearly  attested  in  i6th 
-i 7th  centuries.  Cotgrave  gives 
'  chop '  as  an  equivalent  of  F.  tro- 
qucr,  changer.  Not  found  in  M.E. 
Skeat's  account  of  it  as  a  '  weakened ' 
form  of  M.  E.  ( <  Uu. )  copen,  '  bar- 
ter', is  hardly  tenable;  but  it  is 
probably  connected  with  the  purely 
English  form  of  the  same  root  seen 
in  ckt-ap. 

climate  (iv.  i.  130),  region. 
O.  Fr.  climat,  <  Lat.  clima,  Gk. 
*>./*«.  Properly  a  zone  of  the  earth, 
"contemplated  in  its  slope  or  in- 
clination from  the  equator  toward 
the  pole".  So  in  astrology,  '  a  re- 
gion of  the  sky'.  In  E.  E.  it  means 
(i)  a  region  of  the  earth  (as  here), 
and  especially  (2)  with  reference  to 
its  atmospheric  conditions  (as  in 
Md.  E.). 

"The mathematical  geographers 
cf  antiquity  were  wont  to  run  ima- 
ginary parallel  lines  to  the  equator; 
and  the  successive  climates  of  the 
earth  were  the  regions  between 
these  lines"  (Trench,  Select  Glos- 
sary}. 

commend  (iii.  3.  116),  hand 
over,  commit ;  <  I>at.  commendare 
through  O.  F.  The  Latin  word 
(from  mandare)  means  (i)  to  'put 


in  the  care  of,  'commit  to',  (a) 
through  the  praise  natural  in  thus 
putting  a  person  in  the  care  of  an- 
other, 'to  praise'.  In  E.  E.  sense 
( i )  preponderates. 

complexion  (iii.  2.  194),  appear- 
ance. ( i  (The  word (  <  Lat.  complex- 
ion-em, through  O.  F.  and  M.E.' 
meant  in  M.E.  'constitution', 
'  temperament ',  and  referred  like 
the  latter  word  to  the  four  Humours 
mixed,  in  varying  proportions,  in 
each  human  body;  so  Chaucer,  "of 
his  complexion  he  was  sanguin". 
Thence  it  denoted,  as  now,  (2)  the 
outer  appearance  of  the  face,  as  an 
index  of  temperament,  and  then  (3) 
outer  appearance  in  general,  as 
here.  All  three  meanings  are  com- 
mon in  Shakespeare. 

complices  (ii.  3.  165),  accom- 
plices. The  form,  still  preserved  in 
complicity,  was  common  in  E.  E. 

<  r.  complice,    Lat.   complic-em: 
prop.   '  one  engaged  in,  concerned 
in'  (a  plot,  &c. ). 

conceit  (ii.  2.  33),  imagination, 
anything  conceived.  M.  E.  conceit, 
'  notion  ',  <.  O.  F.  conceit,  <  Lat. 
concept-um.  In  Shakespeare  it  re- 
fers mostly  to  inventive  power, 
mental  capacity,  and  never  alone 
has  the  modern  sense  of  '  a  vain 
conceit  of  oneself. 

convey  (iv.  i.  317),  accompany, 
escort,  convoy.  <  M.  E.  com-eien, 

<  O.  F.  couveier,  L.  I^at.  com-iare. 
( i )  Properly  '  to  bring  on  the  way ', 
'  accompany',  of  persons ;  but  also 
said    in    M.  E..    where   they   were 
carried,  or  in  the  Mod.  E.  sense, 
conveyed;  hence  (2)  used  also  of  /'«- 
animate  things  ( which  could  not  be 
'conveyed'  otherwise),    and  espe- 
cially (3)  of  secret  carrying,  e.g.  "  an 
onion  which  is  a  napkin  being  close 
conveyed  ",  Taming  of  the  Shrew, 
Ind,andso(4)of stealing.   Richard 
plays  upon  senses  (i)  and  (4). 

cozening  (ii.  2.  69).  cheating, 
beguiling.  Y.cousiiier.  <coitsin."\a 
claime  kindred  for  advantage...; 


GLOSSARY. 


203 


as  he  who,  to  save  charges  in  tra- 
velling, goes  from  house  to  house, 
as  cosin  to  the  honour  of  every- 
one" (Cotgrave,  quot.  Skeat).  In 
E.  E.  the  word  means  simply 
'cheat',  especially  by  wheedling  or 
cajolery,  an  easy  development  of 
sense:  it  was  not  felt  to  be  a  deri- 
vative of  '  cousin ' ;  the  incessant 
coupling  of  the  two  words  is  witti- 
cism, not  etymology. 

defend.    See  note  i.  3.  18. 

determinate  (i.  3.  150),  set  a 
limit  to.  A  verb  formed  from  the 
p.  part,  of  L.  determinare  (  >  O.  F. 
determiner)  determinate,  found  in 
M.E.  as  a  part.  adj.  determinat.  The 
conversion  of  participles  into  verbs, 
without  change  of  form,  was  one  of 
the  most  striking  features  of  Eng- 
lish word-making  in  the  I5th-i6th 
century.  Few,  if  any,  clear  cases 
of  verbs  in  -ate  are  older  than  the 
i6th.  Dr.  Murray,  in  his  admir- 
able article  on  this  suffix  (Eng. 
Diet,  -ate3)  has  shown  that  it 
arose  through  the  existence  in  15th- 
century  English  of  other  classes  of 
verbs  with  identical  p.  part,  and 
infin.,  e.g.  'confuse'  (Fr.  con/us, 
from  L.  part,  confusum). 

dispaVked.  See  note  to  iii.  r.  22. 

eager  (i.  i.  49),  sharp,  biting. 
M.  E.  egre,  O.  F.  egre,  Lat.  acrem 
(acer). 

ear  (iii.  2.  212),  plough.  M.  E. 
erien,  O.  E.  erian.  The  ea,  which  in 
Mod.  E.  commonly  represents  O.  E. 
and  M.  E.  e  before  r  (cf.  swear,  M.  E. 
swerien ;  spear,  M.  E.  spere;  bear, 
M.E.  beren,  &c. ),  probably  ex- 
pressed in  E.  E.  two  varieties  of 
e  since  diphthongated  to  et  (swefr, 
b&r)  or  it  (spi?r).  See  word  lists 
in  Sweet,  Hist.Eng.Sounds,  p.  306. 

envy  (i.  2.  21),  hatred,  ill-will. 
M.  F.  envie,  O.  F.  envie,  L.  invidi- 
am.  The  meaning  fluctuates  in 
E.  E.  between  this  and  the  special 
ill-will  provoked  by  another's  ex- 
cellence or  success. 


exactly  (i.  i.  140),  in  set  terms. 
Lat.  exact  um;  exigere,  'weigh'; 
hence  'accurately  measured',  'de- 
finite, distinct,  explicit'. 

expedient  (i.  4.  39),  prompt, 
expedience  (ii.  i.  287),  rapidity, 
haste.  16th-century  formations 
through  French,  from  Lat.  ex-ped- 
ire,  properly '  to  disengage  the  feet ' , 
hence  'to  remove  obstacles',  'en- 
able to  act  freely,  and  so  promptly'. 
Cf.  Mod.  E.  expedite^  expedition. 
Thence,  a  course  which  tends  to 
remove  or  avoid  obstacles  is  '  expe- 
dient'; a  sense  also  common  in 
E.  E.,  now  exclusive. 

favour  (iv.  i.  168),  features, 
faces.  M.  E.  favour,  not  from  O.  F. 
faveur,  as  Skeat  says  (an  impos- 
sible sound  change),  but  from  a 
Norm.  F.  favor,  Lat.  favor-em, 
'kindliness',  'favour'.  The  tran- 
sition of  meaning  is  the  common 
one  from  a  mental  disposition  to 
the  face  which  expresses  it;  cf.  coun- 
tenance, and  the  inverse  transition 
in  cheer  ( <  cara,  '  head '). 

foil  (i.  3.  266),  'setting',  used 
technically  of  the  metal  surface  or 
ground  in  which  jewelry  was  inlaid 
and  which  served  to  throw  it  off. 
Like  the  last,  anAnglo-Norm.word, 
<  O.  F.  foil,  Lat.  folium,  'leaf. 

fond  (v.  i.  101;  2.  95,  101),  fool- 
ish. An  adjective  from  the  M.  E. 
p.  parl./onned  offonnen, '  to  be  fool- 
ish',  '  play  the  fool ',  from  M.  E,.fon, 
'  foolish ',  '  fool '.  The  modern  sense 
arose  from  the  association  of  warm 
feeling  with  intellectual  feebleness: 
cf.  the  inverse  transition  in  Mod.  E. 
silly  <  O.  E.  s&l,  'happiness', 
'bliss'. 

forfend  (iv.  i.  129),  forbid,  pro- 
hibit. M.  E.  forfenden,  'ward  off", 
from  fenden,  often  used  in  M.  E. 
for  defenden,  Lat.  defendere.  The 
resemblance  of  meaning  between 
de  in  this  word  and  the  Eng.  for  in 
for-bid( '  enjoin  <^,away,<&-precate) 
caused  the  formation  of  this  hybrid 
compound. 


204 


KING    RICHARD    II. 


fretted  I  iii.  3.  167).  worn  away. 
O.E./ri-t-ttn,  'consume',  'devour', 
not  "contracted  from  for-etan" 
(Ske.it).  but  from  fra-etan  (with 
syncope  of  </).  <  Goth./rd,  usually 
represc-nted  in  O.  E.  by  for.  So 
O.  E.  f reef  tie,  'wild',  'senseless', 
(Germ.  f-'revel)  fra,  combined  with 
root  of  O.  N.  ii/t-s.  '  strength';  and 
Germ. /r-esstm,  'devour'.  (Kluge, 
s.v.  'fressen'.)  The  verb,  though 
strong  in  O.  £. ,  is  commonly  weak 
in  E.  E. ;  but  the  p.  part,  freten 
lingers  in  the  form  fretten  once 
found  in  Shakespeare  (Merchant  of 
Venice,  iv.  i.  77  Quartos). 

gage  (i.  i.  60),  pledge.  See  note. 
<  O.  F.  gage,  formed,  not  ' '  from 
Lat.  vadi-,  fas"  (Skeat),  but  from 
a  Germanic  stem  wad  jo-  preserved 
in  Goth,  wadi,  O.  E.  wedd  ( '  wed- 
lock'), Germ,  wetle,  'pledge'. 
(Kluge,  s.v.  wett.) 

glose  (ii.  i.  10),  flatter,  speak 
insincerely  or  idly,  babble;  <  M.E. 
glosen,  O.  F.  gloser,  from  glose, 
<\^.glossa,  'explanation',  'gloss', 
'comment',  and  so  any  misleading 
presentation  of  truth,  especially 
with  a  view  to  please,  'flattery'. 
The  word  had  already  been  bor- 
rowed in  O.  E.  gle"s,m  (with  /'- 
mutation). 

gnarling  (i.  3.  292),  snarling, 
growling.  "Gnarl  is  the  frequent- 
ative of  gnar,  'to  snarl',  with  the 
usual  ad'ded  /;  an  imitative  word. 
Cf.  Ger.kmtrren,  '  growl'"  (Skeat). 
Used  by  Shakespeare  only  once 
elsewhere, ' '  where  wolves  are  gnarl- 
ing" (2  Henry  I'f.  iii.  i.  192). 

gripe  (iii.  3.  80),  seize,  clasp. 
O.  E.  grip-an,  whence  also  grope 
and  grip.  Unlike  these  words 
'gripe'  has  now  passed  out  of  the 
literary  language. 

haught  i  iv.  i.  254),  haughty;  a 
form  of  haughty  used  by  Shake- 
speare only  in  the  early  plays 
'  Henry  I/I.,  K, chard  ///.'). 


Haughty  is  an  Anglicized  form  erf 
Fr.  hautain,  <  Lat.  alt-ut. 

haviour  (i.  3.  77).  bearing,  de- 
portment. A  shortened  E.  E.  form  of 
oe-kaviour,  an  anomalously  formed 
subst.  from  M.  E.  be-habbeit,  behave, 
O.  E.  be-htrbban  (from  habban,  'to 
have,  hold  ).  Properly,  the  'hold- 
ing or  conducting  oneself  well'. 
Skeat  {s.v.  behaviour)  suggests  that 
the  French  suffix  may  have  been 
due  to  confusion  with  aver,  havoir 
(<  Lat.  kabere),  'property'. 

imp  (ii.  i.  292),  piece  out',  a 
technical  hawking  term;  see  note. 

<  M.  E.    ymp-en,    O.  E.    imp-tan, 
'graft'.    This  was  probably  a  vt-ry 
early  loan-word  from  I .atin  (before 
7th  century*,  but  cannot  be  taken 
directly  from  \a\..imputare.  Kluge 
[s.v.  Impfen)  suggests  an  interme- 
diate    link,     *  impo(d)are ;      Pog- 
atscher  (§382),   a  link.  *imfetan, 
which,  by  the  analogy  of  the  O.  E. 
verbs  in  -et(t)an,  may  have  led  to 
the  coinage  of  the  simple  imf-ian. 
The    word    is   also   discussed   by 
Franz, Lat.  Elrm.  im  A.H.D.  p.  17. 
The  word  prop  ( <  Lat.  frofago,  '  a 
cutting')  has  a  partly  parallel  his- 
tory. 

impeach  (i.  i.  170).  See  ap- 
peach,  above. 

imprese  (iii.  i.  25).  device,  em- 
blem on  an  escutcheon.  The  Quar- 
tos read  imprese  in  this  passage, 
the  Folios  impress,  indicating  the 
growing  naturalization  of  the  word. 

<  Ital.  impresa,  'heraldic  device', 
as  being    impressed   or  engraved 
upon  a  shield.      For  the  meaning 
cf.  emblem  <  Gk.  i>£>D.u«(/3«AAj,). 

incontinent  (v.  6.  48),  forthwith. 

<  F.    incontinent,     'immediately' 
(lit.  'without  holding  oneself  in', 
so  'with  the  utmost  speed,  instant- 
ly'- 

inherits  (ii.  i.  83),  possesses. 
M.  E.  inheritrn,  enheriten,  <  O.  F. 
en-heriter,  <  L.  hereditare,  'to  be- 
come heir  to'.  (  urrent  in  poetry, 


oLOSSARY. 


205 


in  E.  E. ,  in  the  looser  sense  of 
'possess':  by  transfer  from  an  act 
to  its  sequel.  Cf .  approved,  above. 

jauncing  (v.  5.  94).  From  Fr. 
jancer;  explained  by  Cotgrave  (as 
used  of  a  horse)  ' '  to  stirre  a  horse 
in  the  stable  till  hee  fret  withall"; 
i.e.  ' '  to  fret  the  horse  to  make  him 
prance"  (Cl.  Pr.  edd.).  Cotgrave 
gives  as  equivalent  the  E.  Jaunt. 

kerns  (ii.  i.  156).     See  note. 
knots  (iii.  4.  46).    See  note. 

lewd  (i.  i.  90),  base,  dishonour- 
able. M.  E.  lewed,  O.E.  l&wed. 
The  O.  E.  word  is  difficult,  but 
probably  <  Lat.  la'icus or  laicatus, 
'  layman ',  its  regular  sense  in  O.  E. 
The  old  derivation  from  O.  E.  ledde 
(still  given  without  question  by  the 
Cl.  Pr.  edd.)  is,  as  Skeat(j.z/.)says, 
out  of  the  question;  but  his  own 
derivation  from  O.  E.  Itzwan,  '  to 
weaken,  betray',  is  objectionable 
on  the  score  of  meaning.  Cf.  Kluge 
s.v. ;  Pogatscher,  §  340. 

liege  (i.  i.  7),  sovereign.  M.  E. 
lige,  liege,  O.Y.Uge,  liege,  <O.H.G. 
ledic,  'free',  'unrestrained';  hence 
properly  of  the  feudal  suzerain  or 
liege-lord,  but  also  applied  to  his 
vassals  by  popular  etymology,  con- 
necting the  word  with  Lat.  ligare, 
'bind'. 

livery  (ii.  i.  204).    See  note. 

lodge  (iii.  3. 162),  lay  low.  The 
verb  is  M.  E.  loggen,  from  O.  F. 
loge,  'lodge',  'cote'.  The  word  is 
a  Germanic  loan-word  in  the  Ro- 
mance languages,  from  O.  H.  G. 
louba,  '  hall ',  '  gallery ',  '  shed ' ; 
probably  connected  with  O.  N.  lopt, 
E.  loft,  but  not  (as  Skeat  says)  with 
Germ.  Laub,  'leaf.  The  modern 
suggestion  of  Laub,  in  the  Germ. 
Laube,  'gallery',  'arbour',  is  due 
to  popular  etymology. — The  verb 
thence  meant  (i)  to  settle  (trans. 
and  intr. ),  (2)  to  put  down,  deposit, 
and  so  lay  low. 
(858) 


manage  (i.  4.  39;  iii.  3.  179), 
management,  control.  Originally, 
like  its  immediate  source  O.  F. 
manege,  a  technical  term  for '  horse- 
management  '.  Borrowed  appa- 
rently early  in  i6th  century.  Ulti- 
mately from  Lat.  man-um. 

miscreant  (i.  i.  39),  wretch. 
O.  F.  mescreant  ( —  Lat.  minus  cre- 
dentem),  '  mis-believer '. 

model  (i.  2.  28;  iii.  2.  153);  see 
note.  O.  F.  modelle,  Lat.  mod-ellum, 
dim.  (accus.)  of  modus,  'a  mea- 
sure '. 

moe  (ii.  i.  239),  more.  M.E.  ma, 
mo;  O.  E.  md,  mcs,  to  mar  a,  'great- 
er'; used  (i)  as  a  neut.  subst. , 
(2)  as  adv.  The  former  usage,  in 
which  it  was  often  coupled  with  a 
partitive  gen.,  as  'ma  manna,  a 
greater  number  of  men',  i.e.  'more 
men ',  led  to  the  E.  E.  use,  in  which 
it  was  treated  as  the  comp.  of  many, 
while  more  remained  the  comp.  of 
much.  Cf.  Sievers,  Angels.  Gram. 
p.  146;  Sweet,  New  Eng.  Gram. 
§1052  (where  "Early  M.E.  moe" 
ortould  be  '  Early  Mn.  E.'). 

motive  (i.  1. 194);  see  note.  M.  E. 
motif,  O.  F.  motif,  Lat.  mot-iv-um, 
adj.  from  movere,  'to  move'. 

out-dared  (i.  i.  190).   See  note. 

owe  (iv.  i.  185),  possess.  O.  E. 
dg,  dk,  'possess'.  The  modern 
sense  arises  from  the  notion  of  obli- 
gation, regarded  as  attaching  to  a 
man,  like  a  possession. 

pale  (iii.  4.  40),  inclosure;  pro- 
perly the  stake  marking  off  the  space 
inclosed.  M.  E.  pal,  <  O.  F.  pal, 
<  Lat.  palus,  '  stake '.  Note  that 
the  Latin  word  had  been  already 
borrowed  in  O.  E.  pal,  which  by 
regular  sound-change  became  M.E. 
pdl.  Mod.  E.  pole. 

parle  (i.  i.  192),  speech  with  an 
enemy,  opening  of  negotiations. 
A  shortened  form  of  parley  (also 
used  by  Shakespeare) — perhaps  on 
analogy  of  such  equivalent  pairs  of 
O 


206 


KING   RICHARD   II. 


words  A*  part,  parly.    Parley  <  Fr. 
porter  (both  vb.  and  subst). 

pelting  (ii.  i.  60).  paliry.  'Inhere 
•were  .it  Icnst  two  words  of  this  form 
in  K.K.:  ( i  )='  violent,  furious'. 
[in  ill.  i  My  as  a  metaphor  from  rain, 
hail.  &c. ;  especially  in  the  phrase 
'to  lie  in  a  |>elting  chafe'  =  'in  a 
towering  passion ' ; — a  favourite  one 
in  the  theological  controversy  of 
the  time(f.£.  in  Foxe).  (2)  =  '  petty, 
paltry,  trifling'.  This  sense  like 
(i )  has  not  been  found  before  c.  1 540. 
Strype  (1540)  speaks  of  'pelting 

ti.e.  worthless]  perdons' ;  Becon 
c.  1560)  and  Calfhill  (1565)  of 
'pelting  pedlary ',  of  the  '  pelting 
pedlar'  who  puts  the  best  of  his 
pack  up;  Drart  (1567)  of  'pelting 
babies  t  baubles]  small'.  It  was  no 
doubt  a  16th-century  formation,  of 
which  the  following  were,  perhaps, 
the  steps,  (i)  The  word  paltry, 
<  Scand./a//*r,  rags,  had  a  north- 
ern form. /<•///•;>( Jamieson ),  ' trash ' , 
&c.  (2)  The  word  peltering  was 
probably  a  derivation  of  this,  = 
'petty',  e.g.  Feme  (1586). 'everve 
peltring  trade  in  this  towne  con 
gather  riches'.  (3)  Pelter,  —  'a 
mean,  sordid  person  '.  (4)  Through 
association,  partly  of  meaning  and 
partly  of  form,  pelt,  'skin',  acquired 
the  suggestion  of  '  trash  ' ;  (skins 
and  rags  being  both  dealt  in  by- 
pedlars;  cf.  quotations  above).  So 
Harman  (1567):  'And  lave  all  her 
other pelte  and  trash  upon  her  also ' . 
(5)  Hence,  on  the  analogy:  peltrie. 
pelter:  peltring  -  pelt :  pelting,  the 
present  word  arose. 

perspectives  (ii.  1. 18).  See  note. 

pill'd  (ii.  1.246),  pillaged.  M.E. 
pillen,  O.  E.  pi  Her,  \ja\.  pi  la  re. 
'strip',  'rob',  whence  also  O.  F. 
peler,  N.  E.  pelen,  '  peel'. 

pine  (v.  i.  77>,  cause  to  suffer. 
M.  E.  pinien,  O.  E.finia*,  <  O.E. 
pin.  'torment',  <  I-at.  poena  (this 
vowel,  e  in  vulgar  Latin,  regularly 
giving  /  in  O.  E. ;  so  PMnisc, 
'Phoenician';  Pogatscher,  §  130). 
Cf.  Chaucer's  '  forpined  goost '. 


power  (ii.  2.  46),  army;  a  com- 
mon sense  of  the  M.  E.  pouer 
<O.  F.  pfftvir.  1^.  \M.p->t ere— posse 
(a  concrete  use  of  the  intimt.  subst. 
Cf.  //f<j/fi  /-(manor),  1-U.  -~  maitere; 
attainder,  q.v.). 

presently  (i.  4.  52,  &c.  >.  at  once; 
the  almost  invariable  sense  in  E.  E. 
Expressions  for  the  present  mo- 
ment, or  the  immediate  future  or 
past,  tend  to  acquire  the  looser 
sense  of  '  a  little  interval  after  (or 
before)  the  present'.  So  O.  E.  M>nu 
(soon)  and  on  dn  ('anon')  meant 
'at  once';  and  'just  now',  'but 
now',  originally  meant  'at  this  very 
moment '. 

proof  (i.  3.  73).  power  of  resist- 
ing assault ;  M.  E.  prtee  (beside 
pre-c ,  pereove}  <  O.  F.  prrce.  L.  I^at. 
proba.  The  word  mean:  (i)  trying, 
testing;  (2)  the  state  of  having  been 
tested  or  tried  (for  transition  of 
meaning  cf.  approved,  inherits, 
above);  hence  especially  used  of 
weapons,  armour,  &c. ,  'arms  of 
proof,  'armed  in  proof,  and  the 
modern  'fire-proof,  &c. 

prosecute  (ii.  i.  244),  follow  out; 
from  p.  part,  of  Lat.  prosequor. 
Another  instance  of  the  16th-century 
formation  of  verbs  from  past  parti- 
ciples; cf.  above  determinate. 

purchase  (i.  3.  282).  acquire. 
M.  E.  purchiuen,  purckastn,  O.  F. 
pourchacier,  compound  of  pour  and 
chacier,  ultimately  from  I^at.  cap- 
tare,  'seize',  'catch'.  The  modern 
sense  of  acquiring  by  payment  is 
thus  a  specialization  of  the  original 
sense,  and  is  the  less  common  sense 
in  Shakespeare. 

quit  (v.  i.  43 ).  requite;  M.E. 
quiten,  O.  F.  qtiiter,  Lat.  quiet-art, 
'set  at  rest' (a  claim,  by  compen- 
sation or  return). 

recreant  (i.  i.  144;  a.  53),  one 
who  weakly  surrenders,  a  coward. 
O.  F.  recreent,  I -at.  re  +  credentem; 
properly, '  an  apostate  to  his  faith', 
thence  used  of  the  apostasy  to  the 


GLOSSARY. 


207 


faith  of  chivalry  implied  in  dishon- 
ourable surrender. 

regreet  (i.  3.  67,  142),  accost 
again.  See  notes  \.o  greeting  (\.  i.  36) 
and  regreet  (i.  3.  67).  M.  E.  greten, 
O.  E.  grttan.  Note  that  this  verb 
(formed  by  mutation  from  *grdt- 
ian,  cf.  O.S.  grotian,  and  Germ. 
gruss)  is  wholly  distinct  from  M.E. 
greten.  Mod.  E.  prov.  greet,  '  to 
weep '  (Goth,  gretan). 

round  (iii.  2.  161),  surround; 
the  verb  now  means  rather  '  make 
round '  or  '  become  round '.  Only 
the  latter  sense  is  found  in  Shake- 
speare. Formed  from  the  adj., 
M.  E.  round,  O.  F.  round,  roond, 
Lat.  rotund-um. 

roundly  (ii.  i.  122),  unceremoni- 
ously. See  note. 

scope  (iii.  3.  112,  140),  aim. 
From  Gk.  rxiaos,  a  mark.  It  has 
in  E.  E.  a  variety  of  senses:  espe- 
cially (i)  aim,  mark,  design;  iii.  3. 
112.  (2)  That  which  is  included 
within  the  limits  of  a  design;  so  in 
general.  (3)  The  interval  within 
which  one  has  free  play,  '  scope '  in 
the  modern  sense;  so  iii.  3.  140. 

securely  (ii.  i.  266),  in  excess  of 
confidence.  Lat.  securus  (se  [for 
sed]  +  cura,  'without  anxiety'). 
The  modern  sense  of  being  as  well 
as  feeling  safe  is  also  common  in 
Shakespeare.  The  same  develop- 
ment has  taken  place  in  the  other 
derivatives  from  Lat.  securus (M.  E. 
siker,  M.  E.  seur  through  O.  F.,  W. 
sicr.  Germ,  sicker).  It  naturally 
came  about  as  European  society 
acquired  stability  and  fixity,  i.e.  as 
the  '  sense  of  security  '  became  less 
deceptive. 

shadow  (ii.  2.  14;  iv.  i.  292), 
image.  M.  E.  schadewe.  O.  E. 
sceadw-  (the  stem  of  Nom.  sceadu, 
which  appears  in  Mod.  E.  shade}. 
In  E.  E.  it  has  the  sense  of '  image ', 
'  likeness',  as  well  as  that  of  Mod.  E. 
'  shadow ',  of  course  from  the  re- 
petition of  the  profile  in  the  shadow. 


sheer  (v.  3.  61).    See  note. 

shrewd  (iii.  2.  59),  destructive. 
M.  E.  schrewed,  see  beshrew  above; 
and  cf.  the  use  of  the  adj.  with 
'  steel '  to  the  O.  E.  use  of  bltan, 
'  to  cleave",  'bite  (of  a  sword)',  and 
biter,  e.g.  liter  strcel,  '  piercing 
dart',  &c. 

signories  (iii.  i.  22),  lordships; 
one  of  the  numerous  Ital.  loan- 
words of  the  i6th  century,  and  used, 
like  'signior',  without  exclusive 
reference  to  Italy.  Ital.  signoria, 

<  Lat.  senior-em,  '  older '. 
sooth  (iii.  3.    136),  from  O.  E. 

sttfS.  (i)  true;  (2)  truth;  (3)  'as- 
senting to  a  statement  as  true ';  so 
flattery,  cajoling.  Hence  "  words 
of  sooth",  iii.  3.  136;  and  the  verb 
'  to  soothe '. 
sort  (iv.  i.  246),  set.  O.  F.  sorte 

<  Lat.  sort-em.    The  development 
of  the  meaning  is  (i)  'fate';  (2)  the 
'  qualities '  allotted  by  fate;  (3)  the 
class  or  '  kind '  of  things  having 
those  qualities    in    common.      In 
Mod.  E.    the    third    sense  always 
implies  some  intrinsic  resemblance 
in  the  things.     In  E.  E.  it  was  often 
used  of  mere  local  connection :   '  a 
group ',    '  set ',   as  here.     Cf.   the 
word  lot. 

suggest  (i.  i.  101),  criminally 
prompt.  M.E.  suggesten,  from  p. 
part,  of  Lat.  suggerere.  For  other 
verbs  from  p.  participles  see  deter- 
minate. The  notion  of  'prompting 
to  evil '  is  common  in  M.  E. ,  and 
usual  in  E.E. 

supplant  (ii.  i.  156),  root  or 
drive  out.  M.  E.  supplanten,  Fr. 
supplanter,  Lat.  subplantare,  '  to 
trip  up  a  person  by  putting  some- 
thing under  his  foot-sole  (planta) '. 
The  original  sense  was  more  dis- 
tinct in  E.  E.  than  now.  Cotgrave 
(quoted  by  Skeat  s.  v. )  equates  sup- 
plant with  '  root  or  trip  up '. 

tall  (ii.  i.  286),  large  and  well- 
equipped,  excellent  of  their  kind. 
M.  E.  tal,  ' ' seemly,  docile,  elegans " 


208 


KING   RICHARD   II. 


( Bradley  s.  v. ).  O.  K.  fe-tal.  The 
E.  K.  sense,  in  which  uifund  txctl- 
/*/i/yM<j/</x  arc  both  implied,  medi- 
ates between  the  M.  E.  sense  and 
the  Mod.  K.  reference  to  site  only. 
Thus  it  is  often  used  of  good  soldiers 
(like  '  stout ',  '  sturdy '.  in  Mod.  E. ), 

••  and  carry  back  to  Sicily  much  tall  youth 
That  else  must  pemh  here  " 

Antony  and  Cltopatru,  ii  6.  7. 

but  in  this  sense  was  mostly  col- 
loquial or  vulgar  (cf.  Schmidt  s.-:). 
Similarly  of  ships  here.  So.  the 
modern  bookseller  still  recommends 
his  '  tall  copy '  of  an  old  book.  For 
other  instances  of  the  development 
of  a  reference  to  site  (great  or  small) 
from  terms  of  approval,  or  vice 
versa,  cf.  M.  H.  G.  klein,  'delicate', 
'elegant' ;  N.  H.  G.  klein.  'small ' ; 
Gk.  x«>«rr«;  I  At.  grac-ilis,  'slen- 
der', 'graceful';  Lat.  tener,  'ten- 
der', 'thin'. 

tatter-d  (iii.  3.  52). 

temper  (iv.  i.  29).  See  note. 
Noun  formed  from  the  verb, 
<  M.E.  tempren,  O.  E.  ge-temp- 
rian.  <  I^at.  temperare,  '  moder- 
ate ',  '  bring  to  proper  quality '. 

tender  (i.  i.  32),  hold  dear;  vb. 
formed  from  the  adj. ;  cf.  Abbott, 
§  290,  tender,  <  Fr.  tendre,  <  Lat. 
tener-um  (tener]. 

to  (i.  3.  244),  introducing  an 
accompanying  circumstance,  with 
infin.  nearly  —  in — ing.  See  note. 

trade  (iii.  3.  156),  traffic,  inter- 
course. Ultimately  from  O.  E. 
tredan,  but  apparently  first  formed 
in  i6th  century  from  the  preterite 
or  p.  part,  of  the  verb  (trad,  traden 


or  troden ).  The  M.  E.  noun  is  trede, 
•tread',  'footstep'.  The  meaning 
1  intercourse  '  arose  through  the  in- 
termediate sense  '  path  '.  found  in 
Surrey's st-.neid: ' 'A  common  trade, 
10  pass  through  Priam's  house". 

undeaf  in  i.  i6t.  make  not  deaf, 
give  hearing  to.  See  note. 

underbearing  (i.  4.  29).  sup- 
porting. M.  E.  underberen.  O.  E. 
underberan. 

unhappied  (iii.  i.  10).  made  un- 
happy. 

wanton  (v.  3.  10),  unrestrained, 
licentious;  M.E.  wan-tif&fn,  'un- 
regulated', 'ill-bred';  O.  E.  teon, 
'  draw '. 

warder  (i.  3.  117),  staff.  M.  E. 
u-arder  (.Prompt.  Pan',  quoted 
Bradley,  for  'bacillus'),  wardrere, 
'club'.  <wardten,  O.  E.  weard- 
ian,  '  guard '. 

wiritly  (v.  4.  7).     See  note. 

wot  (ii.  i.  250).  know.  M.  E. 
•wot,  O.  E.  u-dt.  i  and  3  pers.  sg. 
pres.  of  the  preterito-present  verb 
U'it-an. 

yearn'd  (v.  5.  76).    See  note. 

yond  (iii.  3.  91),  there,  yonder. 
M.  E.  &>nd.  O.  E.  geond.  In  O.  E. 
and  usually  in  M.  E.  the  adv.  and 
prep,  geond,  fynd,  was  kept  apart 
from  the  adj.  geon,  M.  E.  yon.  In 
E.  E.  they  are  much  confused,  and 
the  old  textsof  Shakespeare  observe 
no  consistent  rule  in  their  use 


INDEX   OF   WORDS. 


(The  references  are  to  the  notes  ad  loc.     Other  words  will  be 
found  in  the  Glossary.) 


abide,  v.  5.  22. 
accomplish'd,  ii.  I.  177. 
affects,  i.  4.  30. 
amazing,  i.  3.  81. 
an  if,  iv.  i.  49. 
appeal,  i.  I.  4. 
apprehension,  i.  3.  300. 
apricocks,  iii.  4.  29. 
ask,  ii.  i.  159. 
aspect,  i.  3.  127. 
atone,  i.  I.  202. 
attorney-general,  ii.  I.  203. 

baffled,  i.  I.  170. 
band,  i.  I.  2. 
base  court,  iii.  3.  176. 
beadsmen,  iii.  2.  116. 
benevolences,  ii.  I.  250. 
bills,  iii.  2.  119. 
brittle,  iv.  i.  287. 
broking,  ii.  I.  293. 
brooch,  v.  5.  66. 
buzz,  ii.  I.  26. 

career,  i.  2.  49. 
careful,  ii.  2.  75. 
choler,  i.  i.  153. 
compassionate,  i.  3.  174. 
consequently,  i.  I.  IO2. 
cousin,  i.  2.  46. 
current,  i.  3.  231. 

dead  time,  iv.  i.  10. 
deal,  i.  3.  269. 
dear,  i.  i.  30;  3.  156. 
defend,  i.  3.  1 8. 
deliver,  iii.  3.  34. 
determinate,  i.  3.  150. 
dispark'd,  iii.  I.  23. 
divine,  iii.  4.  79. 


ears,  iii.  3.  34. 
earth,  ii.  I.  41. 
ensue,  ii.  I.  197. 
envy,  ii.  I.  49. 
even,  i.  3.  77. 
expedience,  ii.  I.  287. 

faced,  iv.  I.  285. 
fall  (trans.),  iii.  4.  104. 
fire,  i.  3.  294. 
for,  i.  3.  125. 
friends,  i.  4.  22. 
furbish,  i.  3.  76. 

glose,  ii.  I.  IO. 
greeting,  i.  I.  36. 
grief,  i.  3.  258. 

hateful,  ii.  2.  138. 
hold,  iii.  4.  83. 
humours,  v.  5.  10. 

imp,  ii.  I.  292. 
impeached,  i.  I.  170. 
in,  i.  3.  284. 
infection,  ii.  I.  44. 
inhabitable,  i.  I.  65. 
inherit,  i.  I.  85. 
inn,  v.  i.  13. 
interchangeably,  i.  I.  146. 

Jack  o'  the  clock,  v.  5.  60. 
jest,  i.  3.  95. 

kerns,  ii.  i.  156. 
kin,  kind,  iv.  I.  140. 
knave,  ii.  2.  96. 
knots,  iii.  4.  46. 

letters  patents,  ii.  I.  2O2. 
liberal,  ii.  I.  229. 
lining,  i.  4.  61. 
look'd,  i.  3.  243. 


210 


KING    RICHARD    II. 


make-peace,  i.  I.  160. 

marshal,  i.  I.  204. 

measure,  i.  3.  291. 

me  rather  had,  iii.  3.  192. 

merit,  i.  3.  156. 

model,  i.  2.  28;  iii.  2.  153. 

motive,  i.  I.  193. 

much  (adv.),  ii.  2.  I. 

nicely,  ii.  I.  84. 

noble  (coin),  i.  I.  88;  v.  5.  68. 

note,  i.  i.  43. 

object,  i.  I.  28. 
obscene,  iv.  I.  131. 
of,  i.  i.  27. 
on,  i.  I.  9. 
other,  i.  I.  22. 

part,  iii.  I.  3. 
partialize,  i.  I.  1 20. 
perspective,  ii.  2.  18. 
pitch,  i.  I.  109. 
plays,  iii.  2.  9. 
precedent,  ii.  I.  130. 
prodigy,  ii.  2.  64. 
property,  iii.  2.  135. 

rankle,  i.  3.  302. 
receipt,  i.  I.  126. 
regard,  ii.  I.  28. 
regreet,  i.  3.  67. 
respect,  ii.  i.  25. 
ribs,  iii.  3.  32. 
rightly,  ii.  2.  18. 
roundly,  ii.  I.  122. 
royal,  v.  5.  68. 
royalties,  ii.  I.  190. 
rubs,  iii.  4.  4. 
rue,  iii.  4.  106* 


securely,  ii.  I.  266. 

self,  i.  2.  23;  iii.  2.  166. 

self-borne,  ii.  3.  80. 

shadows,  ii.  2.  14. 

shall,  i.  i.  160;  iv.  j.  232. 

sheer,  v.  3.  6l. 

sift,  i.  I.  12. 

sights,  iv.  i.  315. 

sing,  ii.  i.  263. 

sit,  ii.  i.  265. 

sly,  i.  3.  150. 

some  thing,  ii.  2.  12. 

state,  i.  3.  190;  ii.  I.  114. 

strongly,  ii.  2.  48. 

suggest,  i.  I.  101. 

sunshine  (adj.),  iv.  i.  221. 

sympathy,  iv.  i.  33. 

tatter'd,  iii.  3.  52. 

tendering,  i.   I.  32. 

that  (without  rel. ),  ii.  2.  52 

the  death,  iii.  I.  29. 

timeless,  iv.  I.  5. 

to  (locative),  i.  3.  244. 

trial,  i.  I.  48. 

triumphs,  v.  2.  52. 

underbcaring,  i.  4.  29. 

unthrifty,  v.  3.  I. 

upon  pain  of  life,  i.  3.  140. 

verge,  ii.  I.  102. 

wanton,  i.  3.  214 

warder,  i.  3.  118. 

waste,  ii.  I.  103. 

will,  ii.  i.  242;  iv.  I.  232 

with,  ii.  I.  28. 

world,  iv.  i.  78. 

yearn,  v.  5.  76, 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


•able  (active),  ii.  3.  84;  iii.  2.  36. 

absolute  clause,  iii.  2.  168,  3.  159;  iv.  i.  116,  226;  v.  I.  6 1. 

adjective,  as  genitive  of  substantive,  i.  3.  90,  241;  ii.  3.  79. 

as  noun,  i.  I.  119;  i.  3.  143. 

as  verb,  ii.  I.  16;  iii.  I.  10. 

for  adverb,  i.  4.  54- 

idiomatic  use  of,  i.  I.  24,  191. 

proleptic,  i.  3.  75. 

separated  from  its  determinants,  iii.  I.  9. 
adverb  qualifying  verb  implied  in  verbal  noun,  ii.  I.  290. 

KOIVOV,  ii.  I.  173. 
Barkloughly,  iii.  2.  I. 
Coleridge  quoted,  i.  I.  41-6.  "7;  3-  156,  213-253;  ii.  I.  ««'/., 

73-84,  163;  2.  89;  iii.  2.  init.,  3.  2I-6l,  4.  init. 
conception  of  the  soul  in  English  poetry,  i.  3.  196. 
cross  alliteration,  ii.  I.  35,  52. 
Darmesteter  quoted,  v.  5.  init. 
Death  the  antic,  iii.  2.  160-163. 
double  comparative,  ii.  I.  49. 
Dowden  quoted,  v.  I.  16,  3.  119;  5.  init.,  78-80. 
dramatic  irony,  i.  3.  48-51;  ii.  I.  219-20. 
-«/ suffix,  ii.  i.  268. 
Ely-house,  i.  4.  58. 
Elizabethan  patriotism,  i.  3.  154. 
English  confectionery,  i.  3.  67-8. 
extended  suffix,  i.  3.  3. 
fratres  jurati,  v.  i.  20. 

Gaunt's  word-play  illustrated  from  Sophocles,  ii.  I.  73-84. 
gerundial  infinitive,  i.  3.  244,  256;  ii.  I.  85. 
Hallowmas,  v.  I.  80. 
Hazlitt  quoted,  ii.  2.  init. 
Hudson  quoted,  v.  5.  init. 
imagery  from  blots  and  stains,  i.  3.  202;  ii.  I.  4;  iii.  4.  8l;  iv.  I.  236, 

324-5;  v.  3.  66. 
Julius  Caesar  s  tower,  v.  I.  2. 
King  Cophetua,  v.  3.  80. 
kissing,  v.  I.  74-5. 
Kreyssig  quoted,  i.  3.  226;   ii.   I.  224;  iii.  3.  60,  72;   iv.   I.  268; 

v-  3-  49- 

-less  passive,  iii.  2.  23. 

Ludwig  quoted,  i.  I.  87-108,  196-205,  2.  58-74. 


aia  KING    RICHARD  II. 

man  as  a  microcosm,  v.  5.  9. 
•man  enclitic,  i.  3.  276. 
objective  genitive,  i.  I.  1 1 8. 
omission  of  preposition,  i.  I.  26. 
omission  of  the,  i.  3«  '36. 
out-  (prefix),  i.   I.  190. 

S parallel  clauses,  iii.  3.  146. 
'ater  quoted,  i.  3.  t'nit. 

peine  forte  et  dure,  iii.  4.  72. 

pelican,  ii.  I.  126. 

periodical  bleeding,  i.  I.  157. 

Phaethon,  iii.  3.  178. 

Flashy,  i.  2.  66. 

possessives  in  E.  E. ,  ii.  2.  101. 

prophecies  of  dying  people,  ii.  I.  56. 

Ransome quoted,  i.  3.  178  190;  ii.  I.  146,  241-2;  2.  3,  9;  iii.  I.  init. ; 
v.  i.  11-15. 

rapier,  iv.  I.  40. 

Ravenspurgh,  ii.  I.  296. 

relative,  free  use  of,  i.  I.  172. 

rhymed  couplet,  i.  I.  41-2. 

rhymed  quatrain,  ii.  I.  9-12;  iii.  2.  7^"79- 

Richard's  extravagance,  i.  4.  43. 

Shakespeare's  allusions  to  Roman  usages,  iii.  4.  99;  his  opening 
scenes,  i.  I.  init.;  his  personification  of  Death,  ii.  I.  270;  his 
dramatic  use  of  irregular  metre,  ii.  2.  98-122;  his  use  of  prose, 

1.  3.  249;  iii.  4.  29. 
short  lines,  iv.  I.  I,  2. 

singular  verb  after  relative,  ii.  2.  1 5- 

,,         ,,     with  plural  subject,  ii.  I.  258;  iii.  3.  168,  185. 
ffTixonvOia,  i.  3.  258-67. 
substantive  as  adjective,  i.  4.  2O;  ii.  I.  19. 
textual  variations,  i.   3.   20,   150,    156;    ii.    I.    18,  62,  246-8,  280; 

2.  57,  no;    3.  75,  So;    iii.  2.  29,  38,  40,  122;   4.  II;  iv.  I.  55- 
v.  5.  8. 

Westminster  Hall,  iv.  I.  init. 


THE    ARDEN    SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HERFORD,  Litt.D.,  University  of  Manchester 

THE   TRAGEDY  of 
KING   RICHARD   III 


EDITED   BY 

GEORGE  MAcDONALD,   M.A. 


BALLIOL  COLLEGE,    OXFORD 


D.    C.    HEATH    AND    COMPANY 


BOSTON 
ATLANTA 


NEW   YORK 

SAN   FRANCISCO 

LONDON 


CHICAGO 
DALLAS 


T1IE  ARDEN   SHAKESPEARE 

The  following  titles  are  available: 

AS   YOU    LIKE    IT 

THE   COMEDY   OF   EKHORS 

LOVE'S    LABOUR'S   LOST 

THE    MERCHANT   OF    VENICE 

A    MIDSUMMER    NIGHT'S    DREAM 

MUCH   ADO    ABOUT    NOTHING 

THE   TEMPEST 

TWELFTH    NIGHT 

THE   WINTER'S   TALE 

HENRY    IV  —  PART  I 
HENRY    IV  — PART    II 
HENRY    V 
HENRY    VIII 
KING    JOHN- 
RICHARD    II 
RICHARD    III 

ANTONY    AND   CLEOPATRA 

CORIOLANUS 

CYMBELINE 

HAMLET 

JULIUS   C.ESAR 

KING    LEAR 

MACBETH 

OTHELLO 

ROMEO   AND   JULIET 

TIMON   OF   ATHENS 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


My  chief  guide  in  preparing  this  edition  has  been  personal 
experience  of  the  difficulty  of  teaching  Shakespeare  to  school- 
boys. In  addition  to  Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon  and 
Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar,  I  have  constantly  had 
beside  me  the  commentaries  of  Malone,  Delius,  and  Wright 
(Clarendon  Press).  To  all  of  these  I  owe  much.  W.  Oechel- 
haeuser's  Essay  iiber  Konig  Richard  HI.  has  been  helpful 
in  many  ways,  though  I  have  found  myself  unable  to  agree 
with  its  main  conclusions.  In  the  Glossary  I  have  been 
mainly  guided  by  The  New  English  Dictionary  and  by 
Skeat's  Etymological  Dictionary,  while  Professor  Herford's 
Glossary  to  his  edition  of  Richard  II.  has  also  been  very 
suggestive.  In  compiling  the  historical  summary  of  the 
lives  of  the  dramatis  persona,  I  have,  with  the  permission  of 
the  Publishers,  occasionally  made  use  of  Mr.  F.  A.  Marshall's 
notes  in  the  Henry  Irving  Shakespeare.  Specific  obligations 
to  other  works  I  have  endeavoured  faithfully  to  acknowledge. 
The  Index  has  been  drawn  up  in  Messrs.  Blackie's  office. 
It  only  remains  for  me  to  thank  the  friends  who,  at  various 
stages  in  the  progress  of  this  little  book,  have  ungrudgingly 
given  me  much  valuable  advice  and  assistance. 

G.  M, 

GLASGOW,  July,  1896. 


CONTENTS. 

Pag« 

INTRODUCTION,       -  ....      7 

DRAMATIS  PERSON.*, 20 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD,  -  21 

NOTES,    -  -        -        -        -  112 

APPENDIX,      -        -  I77 

GLOSSARY, jgg 

CLASSIFIED  INDEX,  .  195 


INTRODUCTION. 


I.— CHARACTER   OF   THE   PLAY. 

THE  argument  is  simple  and  straightforward.  Richard, 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  has  done  the  House  of  York  yeoman 
service  in  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  and  his  courage  and  deter- 
mination have  had  no  small  share  in  securing  the  crown  for 
his  elder  brother,  now  Edward  IV.  of  England.  But  his 
ambition  will  not  let  him  rest  satisfied  with  the  triumph  of 
his  party.  He  must  himself  be  king.  Edward's  illness  and 
death  give  him  his  opportunity;  and  his  plans  are  laid  and 
carried  through  with  a  politic  foresight  that  compels  our 
admiration,  even  though  hypocrisy  is  his  armour  and  murder 
his  favourite  weapon.  Throughout  he  bears  himself  as  one 
who  stands  alone  and  who  has  "neither  pity,  love,  nor 
fear".1  Those  of  his  own  house  are  removed  as  ruthlessly 
as  his  hereditary  foes,  and  at  length  he  mounts  the  throne 
as  Richard  III.  But  with  all  his  shrewdness  he  has 
blundered  in  the  elements  of  his  calculation;  he  has  under- 
estimated the  inevitable  reaction  of  his  wickedness  on  him- 
self and  on  others.  A  twofold  retribution  overtakes  him. 
On  the  one  hand,  his  own  conscience  is  awakened,  and  when 
he  lies  down  to  rest  he  is  "  scared  with  dreams  and  terrified 
with  visions".  On  the  other,  his  subjects,  alienated  by  his 
cruel  deeds,  flock  to  swell  the  forces  of  rebellion,  and  on 
Bosworth  Field  outraged  humanity  exacts  the  vengeance  it 
was  bound  to  claim.  For  his  final  defeat  is  brought  about 
not  by  any  cowardice  or  want  of  skill  upon  his  part,  but 
mainly  by  the  desertion  at  a  critical  moment  of  a  large  body 
of  those  whom  he  trusted. 

i  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  Sixth,  v.  6.  68.  The  whole  passage  ought  to 
be  read  carefully. 


8  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Richard's  fate,  then,  might  have  been  foreseen,  and  it  was  in 
a  sense  deserved.  Yet  it  moves  our  pity.  If  it  failed  to  do 
so,  the  play  would  not  be  a  tragedy.  The  everyday  use  of 
this  word  is  most  misleading.  No  crime,  however  startling, 
is  in  itself  tragic,  nor  is  it  made  more  so  by  swiftly  following 
punishment.  A  true  tragedy  is  the  spectacle  of  a  great  soul 
wrecked  and  ruined  through  being  somehow  or  other  brought 
into  conflict  with  the  moral  order  of  the  world.  The  tragic 
hero  must  therefore  be  a  man  whose  life  is  full  of  possibilities, 
and  whose  nature  is  rich  in  striking  qualities.  Shakespeare's 
Richard  III.  is  no  mere  vulgar  criminal.  To  begin  with,  he 
is  of  the  blood  royal,  as  Lear  is  a  king,  as  Hamlet  is  a  prince, 
as  Othello  is  the  right  arm  of  a  mighty  republic.  Then  he 
has  in  him  much  of  positive  good — personal  courage,  intel- 
lectual quickness,  readiness  of  resource,  and  unflinching 
steadfastness  of  purpose.  If  we  would  realize  how  great  he 
is,  we  have  but  to  set  him  alongside  of  Hastings  or  of 
Buckingham,  men  as  ambitious  and  almost  as  unscrupulous 
as  himself.  Matched  with  ordinary  opponents,  they  would 
have  been  dangerous  foes.  In  Richard's  hands  each  of  them 
in  turn  becomes  a  tool  to  be  used  at  pleasure,  and  then  con- 
temptuously cast  aside,  their  futile  efforts  after  independent 
action  serving  only  to  throw  into  bold  relief  the  grander  lines 
of  the  hero's  figure.  A  man  so  richly  dowered  by  nature  has 
many  claims  upon  our  admiration,  and  as  we  watch  insatiable 
ambition  drive  him  into  a  hopeless  conflict  with  the  eternal 
principles  of  righteousness  and  truth,  we  cannot  but  be  stirred 
with  unavailing  regret  for  what  might  have  been,  as  well  as 
with  something  of  the  "fear  or  terror"  that  tragedy  ought  to 
inspire. 

No  one,  however,  would  rank  Richard  III.  among  the 
masterpieces  of  Shakespeare.  The  more  fully  we  realize 
the  conditions  under  which,  in  actual  experience,  faults  of 
character  and  violations  of  moral  order  bring  with  them 
failure  and  punishment,  the  more  deeply  are  we  impressed 
with  the  complexity  of  the  process  ;  and  so  here  the  very  ease 
with  which  we  apprehend  the  moral  bearing  of  the  play  is  a 
clear  sign  of  inferiority  to  the  greater  tragedies  in  point  of 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

faithfulness  to  the  facts  of  human  life.  The  flaw  of  character 
which  brings  about  Richard's  ruin  is  so  positive  and  well- 
defined,  and  calls  so  loudly  for  punishment,  that  the  manner 
in  which  cause  and  effect  are  linked  together  seems  to  lack 
the  interest  for  which  we  have  a  right  to  look.  Lear's 
failure  to  understand  Cordelia,  Hamlet's  reluctance  to  kill  his 
uncle,  Othello's  jealous  love--all  these  are  natural  enough, 
and  in  each  case  the  catastrophe  entailed  brings  with  it  a 
baffling  sense  of  the  perversity  of  fate.  But  such  ambition 
as  Richard's  is  a  grievous  fault,  and  our  sense  of  justice 
demands  that  he  should  answer  it  grievously.  Thus  it  is  that 
events  move  too  much  as  we  should  expect  them  to  do,  and 
when  the  end  does  come,  our  satisfaction  at  the  ultimate 
overthrow  of  obvious  wrong  leaves  but  scanty  room  for  the 
play  of  tragic  pity  and  fear.  It  is  true  that  a  similar  objection 
might  fairly  be  urged  against  a  drama  that  reaches  a  much 
higher  level.  In  reading  Richard  III.  we  are  constantly  re- 
minded of  Macbeth*,  and  the  resemblance  between  the  two 
is  reflected  in  their  common  popularity.  In  the  later  play, 
however, — to  say  nothing  of  the  supremely  successful  use 
there  made  of  the  supernatural, — the  character  of  the  hero 
has  all  the  perfection  of  a  mature  study;  and,  besides,  Mac- 
beth himself  is  never  allowed  to  absorb  the  whole  of  our 
attention.  In  Richard  III.  there  is  no  Lady  Macbeth.  But 
that  there,  too,  Shakespeare  was  alive  to  the  danger  of  the 
motive  he  selected,  is  clear  from  the  fact  that  he  has  done 
not  a  little  to  lessen  its  effect  by  making  the  majority  of  the 
victims  of  Richard's  cruelty  openly  acknowledge  the  justice 
of  their  doom.  "  False,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence ",  "  the 
adulterate  Hastings",  "high -reaching  Buckingham",  the 
fickle  Anne,  too  easily  wooed  and  won,  virtually  pronounce 
sentence  on  themselves.  Even  Rivers  and  Grey  fail  to  com- 
mand our  full  sympathy,  for  they  had  been  "slanders  by" 
when  the  Lancastrian  Edward  was  foully  done  to  death  at 
Tewkesbury.  Only  the  young  princes  who  perish  in  the 
Tower  are  wholly  innocent.  In  their  case  it  is  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  that  are  visited  on  the  children.  For  Richard  HI.  is 

1  See  note  on  iv.  3.  51. 


10  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

not  merely  the  tragedy  of  an  individual  soul ;  it  is  the  tragedy 
of  a  dynasty. 

To  us,  who  stand  at  a  sufficient  distance  to  adjust  the  his- 
torical perspective  properly,  it  is  plain  enough  that  the  main 
result  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  was  to  weaken  beyond  hope 
of  recovery  the  numbers  and  the  power  of  the  great  feudal 
nobility,  and  so  to  leave  the  way  clear  for  the  slow  but  irre- 
sistible development  of  a  democratic  England.  Shake- 
speare was  too  nearly  a  contemporary  to  be  able  to  assign 
to  that  prolonged  struggle  its  proper  place  in  the  drama  of 
history.  But  to  him  too  it  meant  something  more  than  "a 
confused  noise  of  the  warrior  and  garments  rolled  in  blood  ". 
As  he  read  the  story  in  the  pages  of  the  Chronicler,  his 
unerring  instinct  laid  hold  of  the  most  picturesque  and  char- 
acteristic incidents,  and  this  material  he  wove  into  a  series 
of  plays  which  in  a  way  form  a  continuous  whole.  In  the 
dethronement  and  death  of  Richard  II.  we  have  what  may 
be  called  the  First  Act.  Under  Henry  IV.  and  Henry  V.  we 
see  the  House  of  Lancaster  rise  to  a  position  of  unexampled 
prosperity  and  glory.  This  power,  however,  had  its  begin- 
nings in  a  flagrant  injustice,  and  it  was  bound  to  pass  away. 
In  the  hands  of  Henry  VI.  it  crumbled  into  dust,  and  the  last 
of  the  Lancastrian  kings  paid  with  his  life  the  debt  he  had 
inherited.  The  instrument  of  vengeance  was  the  rival 
House  of  York.  But  the  White  Rose,  no  less  than  the  Red, 
had  blossomed  on  a  soil  that  was  made  rich  by  the  blood  of 
men ;  and  the  retribution  was  not  long  delayed.  This  time 
it  came  from  within.  As  Queen  Margaret  in  our  play  never 
wearies  of  reminding  us,  Richard  1 1 1 .,  in  compassing  the  death 
of  his  kinsfolk,  is  but  avenging,  albeit  without  intention,  the 
wrongs  of  the  House  of  Lancaster.  When  his  task  is 
finished,  he  himself  falls  by  the  edge  of  the  sword.  And  the 
king  who  succeeds  him  is  neither  a  Yorkist  nor  a  Lancastrian ; 
he  is  the  first  of  the  Tudor  monarchs. 


INTRODUCTION. 


II 


II.  SOURCES   OF  THE   PLAY. 

In  1509  or  1513  (for  authorities  differ)  the  book  that  forms 
the  real  foundation  of  Shakespeare's  Richard  III.  was  written 
in  Latin.  This  is  Sir  Thomas  More's  history  of  the  reigns  of 
Edward  V.  and  Richard  HI.  It  was  never  finished,  but  an 
English  version  of  so  much  as  had  been  completed  was 
published  in  1543  in  Hardyng's  Chronicle,  and  it  subse- 
quently appeared  in  an  English  dress  in  the  folio  edition  of 
More's  Works  (London,  1557).  The  latter  translation  is 
easily  accessible,  as  it  has  been  edited  with  glossary  and 
notes  for  the  Pitt  Press  by  Professor  Lumby  (Cambridge, 
1883).  Although,  as  we  shall  see,  Shakespeare  did  not  draw 
from  it  directly,  still  More's  book  has  an  interest  of  its  own 
in  connection  with  Richard  III.  For  the  materials  used  in 
compiling  it  were  in  all  probability  supplied  to  the  writer  by 
Cardinal  Morton,  in  whose  household  More  lived  when  he 
was  a  young  man,  and  who  appears  in  our  play  as  Bishop 
of  Ely.  If  we  remember  that  Morton  was  a  pronounced 
Lancastrian,  and  that  he  took  an  active  part  in  the  intrigues 
that  preceded  Richmond's  invasion,  we  shall  have  little  diffi- 
culty in  understanding  why  tradition  has  painted  Richard 
Crookback  in  such  sombre  colours. 

Three  centuries  ago  historians  had  no  scruples  about 
making  use  of  the  very  words  of  their  predecessors.  When 
Hall  wrote  his  Chronicle  (published  in  1548),  he  incorporated 
in  it  More's  work,  substantially  as  it  had  appeared  in  Har- 
dyng;  and  in  1577  Holinshed,  in  his  Chronicles  of  the  Kings 
of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  once  again  reproduced 
the  original  story  with  the  addition  of  a  few  interpolations 
that  had  been  made  by  Hall.  Although  the  language  of  the 
various  versions  is  practically  identical,  still  there  are  minor 
differences1  in  points  of  detail — in  unimportant  names,  in  the 
introduction  or  omission  of  trifling  episodes, — a  careful  colla- 
tion of  which  shows  that  Shakespeare  must  have  read  both 
Hall  and  the  second  edition  of  Holinshed  (1586-87). 

1  Some  of  the  more  striking  are  indicated  in  the  Notes. 


12  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Shakespeare,  then,  was  indebted  to  the  Chronicle  for  his 
conception  of  Richard.  Whether  that  conception  accords 
with  the  facts  of  history  is  a  question  that  in  no  way  affects 
our  view  of  the  play.  It  need  not,  therefore,  be  discussed. 
More  to  the  point  is  it  to  ask  how  the  dramatist  has  treated 
his  materials.  It  may  be  said  at  once  that  the  first  impres- 
sion is  one  of  surprise  at  the  faithfulness  with  which  he  has 
adhered  to  the  narrative  and  even  to  the  language  of  his 
authorities.  This  makes  it  all  the  more  instructive  to  note 
the  character  of  the  changes  he  has  seen  fit  to  introduce. 
First  and  foremost  are  his  deliberate  alterations  of  time  and 
place.  Just  as  in  the  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  (v.  2.), 
Richard  is  represented  as  taking  part  in  the  Battle  of  St. 
Albans,  though  he  was  at  the  time  little  more  than  an  infant, 
so  now  Queen  Margaret,  who  really  died  in  France  in  1482, 
has  her  life  prolonged  for  at  least  three  years  that  she  may 
be  able  to  heap  curses  on  the  enemies  of  Lancaster  and  point 
the  moral  of  Richard's  misdeeds.  Similarly  in  Act  ii.  Scene 
2  we  have  most  of  the  chief  personages  in  the  play  grouped 
together  round  the  dying  Edward,  whereas  at  the  time  of  the 
king's  mortal  illness  Richard  had  not  returned  from  his 
campaign  in  Scotland,  Rivers  and  Grey  were  probably  at 
I.udlow,  and  Buckingham  in  Wales.  Again,  in  order  to  con- 
centrate our  interest,  the  poet  in  Acts  i.  and  ii.  crowds  into 
the  space  of  a  few  days  the  funeral  of  Henry  VI.  (1471), 
the  murder  of  Clarence  (1478),  and  the  death  of  Edward 
IV.  (1483).  A  little  reflection  will  show  how  intimately  such 
changes  are  bound  up  with  much  that  is  most  character- 
istic in  the  drama.  It  is  interesting  too  to  observe  how  a 
mere  hint  dropped  by  the  Chronicler  has  sometimes  been 
elaborated  into  an  effective  scene.  A  case  in  point  is  Derby's 
petition  to  Edward  (Act  ii.  Scene  i).  Further  illustration  of 
the  actual  changes  Shakespeare  has  made  will  be  found  in 
the  Notes.  Meanwhile  it  remains  to  be  said  that  it  is  a 
matter  of  course  that  for  many  of  the  most  characteristic 
details  he  drew  entirely  upon  the  resources  of  his  own  rich 
imagination.  Thus  in  the  various  scenes  in  which  the  young 
princes  appear,  as  well  as  in  the  interviews  between  Richard 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

and  Anne,  and  between  Richard  and  his  mother,  he  owes 
practically  nothing  to  Holinshed,  while  even  where  he  bor- 
rows most  freely,  his  hand  has  transformed  whatever  it 
touched,  his  genius  has  moved  over  the  dry  bones  of  the 
Chronicle,  and  has  breathed  into  them  the  breath  of  life. 


III.     HISTORY   OF   THE   PLAY. 

In  1597  The  Tragedy  of  King  Richard  the  Third  first  made 
its  appearance  in  print.  It  was  in  quarto  form.  The  title- 
page  of  this  edition,  which  is  known  as  the  First  Quarto, 
gave  no  indication  of  the  authorship.  The  Second  and  all 
subsequent  Quartos  (1598,  1602,  1605,  1612,  1622,  1629,  1634) 
were  published  under  Shakespeare's  name.  The  last  two  of 
these  were  printed  from  the  preceding  Quarto,  no  regard  being 
paid  to  the  widely  different  text  that  had  in  the  interval 
appeared  in  the  First  Folio  (1623).  The  fact  that  so  many- 
editions  were  called  for,  shows  how  popular  the  play  must 
have  been,  and  this  indirect  evidence  is  confirmed  by  more 
than  one  allusion  in  contemporary  writers.1  Nor  are  the 
causes  of  its  popularity  far  to  seek.  Its  comparative  sim- 
plicity of  outline,  the  obviousness  of  the  main  motive,  the 
rapidity  with  which  one  stirring  event  follows  another,  all 
tended  to  make  it  find  favour  in  the  eyes  of  "  the  general ". 

Melodramatic  as  it  undoubtedly  is,  it  was  not  sufficiently  so 
for  the  eighteenth-century  playgoer.  In  1700  Colley  Gibber 
produced  The  Tragical  History  of  King  Richard  III.  altered 
from  Shakespear,  and  until  1821  no  other  version  was  seen 
upon  the  English  stage.  In  the  latter  year  Macready  took 
part  in  a  revival  of  the  Shakespearian  play  at  Covent  Garden, 
and  in  1877  Mr.  Irving  produced  at  the  Lyceum  Richard  III. 
"  arranged  for  the  stage  exclusively  from  the  author's  text ". 
With  these  exceptions  Gibber's  adaptation  has  maintained  its 
hold  on  the  public  taste  for  nearly  two  centuries,  and  in  view 

1  For  anecdotes  showing  how  closely  the  name  of  the  famous  actor  Burbage 
was  associated  with  the  part  of  Richard  III.,  see  Tht  Henry  Irving  Shakespeart, 
vol.  iii.  p.  10. 


I4  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

of  this  it  is  worth  while  to  note  its  leading  characteristics. 
Shakespeare's  Richard  III.  contains  about  3600  lines,  and 
is  the  longest  of  all  his  plays  save  Hamlet.  To  shorten  it 
Gibber  began  by  excluding  many  of  the  original  dramatis 
persona,  notably  Clarence,  Hastings,  Edward  IV.,  and  "the 
kindred  "  of  his  Queen,  as  well  as  the  widowed  Queen  Mar- 
garet, who  is  in  some  ways  the  most  striking  figure  of  all. 
This  wholesale  excision  involved  the  loss  of  the  greater  part 
of  the  Shakespearian  play.  To  bring  the  length  up  to  about 
2000  lines,  a  good  deal  of  new  matter  is  introduced,  and  the 
changes  are  of  the  boldest  kind.  Where  the  pretence  of  fol- 
lowing Shakespeare's  text  is  maintained,  phrases  are  altered 
and  expanded  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner,  poetry  being 
transformed  into  mere  rhetoric.  Where  passages  are  inter- 
polated, the  object  is  almost  invariably  to  exaggerate 
Richard's  physical  and  moral  deformities,  and  to  drive  home 
to  the  audience  the  enormity  of  his  crimes.  Thus  the  murder 
of  Henry  VI.  upon  the  stage  is  borrowed  for  the  occasion 
from  the  Shakespearian  Henry  the  Sixth,  Part  3, — perhaps 
a  more  excusable  innovation  than  the  method  in  which  the 
murder  of  the  young  princes  is  treated.  Shakespeare  passes 
over  this  incident  as  lightly  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  do, 
softening  the  horror  of  Tyrrel's  description  by  the  exceeding 
beauty  of  the  language  in  which  it  is  clothed.  His  adapter 
makes  the  actual  murderers  discuss  their  plans  before  the 
spectators,  and  then  represents  Richard  himself  as  listening 
in  an  adjoining  room  to  the  doing  of  the  deed  and  gloating 
over  its  execution.  Such  a  change  is  typical  of  the  whole  spirit 
of  Gibber's  version.  In  his  hands  Richard  III.  is  robbed  of 
almost  every  element  that  makes  it  a  tragedy.  The  stake  for 
which  the  villain  plays  is  still  indeed  a  crown.  Apart  from 
that,  the  drama  becomes  a  mere  common  story  of  revolting 
wickedness  and  well-merited  retribution.  Yet  it  was  in  this, 
and  not  in  Shakespeare's  Richard  III. ,  that  the  great  actors 
of  the  past,  like  David  Garrick  and  Edmund  Kean,  moved 
the  multitudes  to  enthusiasm.  The  stage  history  of  our  play 
might  well  be  appealed  to  in  support  of  Charles  Lamb's 
paradoxical  contention  "  that  the  plays  of  Shakspere  are 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

less  calculated  for  performance  on   a  stage  than  those  of 
almost  any  other  dramatic  author".1 


IV.     DATE   AND   AUTHORSHIP. 

Within  certain  limits  there  is  but  little  room  for  difference 
of  opinion  about  the  date  of  Richard  III.  The  First  Quarto 
was  published  in  1 597,  and  the  play  must  have  had  time  to 
acquire  a  considerable  popularity  before  it  would  have  been 
worth  anyone's  while  to  print  it.  Furnivall  in  his  Trial 
Table  assigns  it  to  1594.  Others  would  place  it  a  year  or 
two  earlier.  All  definite  dates  are  purely  conjectural.  But 
the  evidence  supplied  by  the  style  and  construction  of  the 
drama,  taken  along  with  the  results  of  the  various  metrical 
tests,2  clearly  indicates  the  handiwork  of  the  youthful  Shake- 
speare. The  characters  are  drawn  with  genuine  power  and 
boldness,  but  there  is  an  absence  of  the  subtle  refinement 
that  maturity  brought  with  it,  while  the  comparative  faithful- 
ness with  which  the  Chronicle  is  followed,  would  seem  to 
show  that  the  dramatist  had  not  yet  acquired  full  confidence 
in  his  own  inventive  genius.  An  examination  of  the  form  of 
the  play  brings  out  certain  striking  points  of  resemblance  to 
the  conventional  "  classical "  drama,  which,  as  represented 
by  Seneca,  provided  the  early  Elizabethans  with  a  model,3 
Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  large  proportion  of 
ffTi\otJ.v6ia*  that  the  dialogue  contains,  and  the  frequent 
instances  of  tragic  irony,6  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which 
Richard's  opening  speech,  like  a  prologue  of  Euripides,  sets 
forth  the  whole  situation.  Such  marks  of  approximation  to 
the  classical  type  probably  betray  the  influence  of  Marlowe, 
and  the  concentration  of  interest  upon  the  single  figure  of  the 
hero  is  also  a  "  Marlowesque "  characteristic.  Mr.  Fleay 

iSee  Lamb's  Essay  On  the  Tragedies  of  Shakspere. 

*  See  Appendix  on  Prosody. 

*  See  J.   W.   Cunliffe :    The  Influence  of  Seneca  on  Elizabethan    Tragedy 
(London,  1893),  and  Rudolf  Fischer:  Zur  Kunttentwicklung  der  Englischtn 
TragSdie  (Strassburg,  1893). 

*  See  note  to  i.  2.  68.  *  See  note  to  i.  z.  a6  ft. 


16  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 

indeed  believes1  that  "Shakespeare  derived  his  plot  and  part 
of  his  text  from  an  anterior  play",  and  "that  the  anterior  play 
was  Marlowe's,  partly  written  for  Lord  Strange's  company  in 
1593,  but  left  unfinished  at  Marlowe's  death,  and  completed 
and  altered  by  Shakespeare  in  1594.  .  .  .  The  unhistorical 
but  grandly  classical  conception  of  Margaret,  the  Cassandra 
prophetess,  the  Helen- Ate  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  .  .  . 
is  evidently  due  to  Marlowe."  This  hypothesis  of  Mr.  Fleay's 
— for  it  is  a  mere  hypothesis,  and  admits  neither  of  proof  nor 
of  disproof — marks  the  most  advanced  point  that  criticism 
has  reached,  and  renders  necessary  some  reference  to  one  of 
the  most  difficult  problems  that  Shakespearian  students  have 
to  deal  with. 

It  is  clear  that  Richard  HI.  is  intimately  connected  with 
the  series  of  three  plays  commonly  known  as  Shakespeare's 
Henry  the  Sixth.  The  narrative  is  continuous,  and  the  same 
characters  reappear.  Richard,  it  is  true,  does  not  at  first  dis- 
play the  masterful  ambition  and  wickedness  that  we  associate 
with  his  name.  But,  as  has  been  well  pointed  out,2  there  are 
two  Richards  in  the  Chronicle  also,  the  second  becoming 
prominent  as  soon  as  Hall  begins  to  draw  upon  More's 
History.  Now  the  question  of  the  authorship  of  the  various 
parts  of  Henry  the  Sixth  is  one  in  regard  to  which  there  is  a 
very  serious  divergence  of  opinion.  These  three  plays  ap- 
peared for  the  first  time  in  the  Folio  of  1623.  Nearly  thirty 
years  before,  there  had  been  published  anonymously  in  quarto 
form  The  First  Part  of  the  Contention  betwixt  the  Two 
Famous  Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster  (1594)  and  The  True 
Tragedie  of  Richard  Duke  of  Yorke  (1595),  two  plays  which 
may  be  described  as  earlier  and  cruder  versions  of  Parts  2 
and  3  of  the  Shakespearian  Henry  the  Sixth.  After  being 
republished  separately  in  1600,  they  were  published  together 
in  1619  as  The  Whole  Contention  betweene  the  Two  Famous 
Houses,  Lancaster  and  Yorke,  and  on  the  title-page  of  this 
last  edition  Shakespeare  figures  as  the  author.  In  the  First 

1  F.  O.  Fleay:  Lift  and  Works  of  Shaketptart,  pp   276  f. 
*  Oechelhaeuser  :   Shaktspeareana,  p.  51. 

(M288" 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

Folio,  however,  the  place  they  would. naturally  have  occupied 
is  taken  by  Henry  the  Sixth,  Parts  2  and  3. 

Round  the  issues  these  facts  raise  there  has  been  keen 
controversy,  some  asserting  that  both  the  earlier  and  later 
plays  are  wholly  the  work  of  Shakespeare,  others  maintaining 
that  he  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  The  Contention  and 
The  True  Tragedie,  and  that  even  Henry  the  Sixth  has  been 
only  here  and  there  touched  by  his  hand.  Between  these 
two  extremes  room  has  been  found  for  a  great  variety  of 
opinion.1  As  a  matter  of  fact,  though  there  is  material  for 
much  interesting  speculation,  there  is  not  sufficient  evidence 
to  justify  a  positive  conclusion.  There  is  certainly  a  great 
deal  to  be  said  for  the  "anterior  play"  theory  so  far  as 
regards  Henry  the  Sixth.  But  we  may  hesitate  before 
extending  it  with  Mr.  Fleay  to  Richard  the  Third.  At  the 
best,  subjective  criticism  is  a  dangerous  thing ;  and  further, 
while  it  may  be  possible  to  say  that  a  particular  passage 
reaches  a  level  of  greatness  to  which  only  Shakespeare  could 
have  attained,  it  is  a  different  matter  altogether  to  fix  an 
inferior  limit  and  declare  arbitrarily  that  nothing  that  falls 
beneath  it  can  be  Shakespeare's. 


V.  THE   QUESTION   OF   THE  TEXT. 

The  text  of  Richard  the  Third  as  it  was  printed  in  the 
Quartos  differs  widely  from  that  which  appeared  in  the  First 
Folio,  the  points  of  variation  being  at  once  numerous  and 
remarkable.  Each  version  contains  passages  not  found  in 
the  other,  the  omissions  in  the  Folio  being  fewer  than  in  the 
Quartos.  Further,  the  Folio  contains  many  minor  alterations, 
which  have  been  made  sometimes  to  avoid  repetition,  some- 
times to  make  the  metre  run  more  smoothly,  sometimes  to 
escape  the  penalties  imposed  upon  profanity  by  the  Act  of 

1  See  Miss  Jane  Lee  in  Proceedings  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society  (1875-76. 
Part  2).  The  study  of  her  paper  may  be  commended  to  those  who  think  that 
certainty  on  such  points  is  attainable. 

(  M  233)  B 


18  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

1606,  and  sometimes  for  no  reason  that  it  is  now  possible  to 
discover.  The  result  is  a  formidable  accumulation  of  various 
readings.  In  the  first  82  lines  of  Act  i.  Scene  4,  for  instance, 
the  Cambridge  Editors  record  nearly  70  variations  between 
the  First  Quarto  and  the  First  Folio.  In  their  Preface  they 
say :  "  The  respective  origin  and  authority  of  the  First 
Quarto  and  the  First  Folio  texts  of  Richard  III.  is  perhaps 
the  most  difficult  question  which  presents  itself  to  an  editor 
of  Shakspeare.  In  the  case  of  most  of  the  plays  a  brief 
survey  leads  him  to  form  a  definite  judgment:  in  this,  the 
most  attentive  examination  scarcely  enables  him  to  propose 
with  confidence  a  hypothetical  conclusion."  As  the  text 
these  editors  have  framed  is  practically  the  one  adopted  in 
the  Warwick  Series,  it  will  be  well  to  explain  briefly  the 
principles  on  which  they  have  proceeded 

Their  hypothesis  is  that  some  time  after  writing  the  original 
version,  which  they  call  A,,  Shakespeare  himself  produced 
a  revised  version  (A,).  Both  versions  were  subsequently 
copied  by  other  hands,  the  copyists  introducing,  accidentally 
or  otherwise,  a  considerable  number  of  changes  in  the  course 
of  transcription.  The  Quarto  text  was  printed  from  the 
copied  manuscript  of  A,,  the  Folio  text  from  the  copied 
manuscript  of  Af  On  this  theory  the  ideal  would  be  to 
recover,  if  possible,  the  original  text  of  .\f  That  is  what  the 
Cambridge  Editors  have  tried  to  do;  but  they  very  frequently 
prefer  the  reading  of  the  First  Quarto,  on  the  ground  that 
the  copyist  of  Aj,  "who  worked  in  the  spirit,  though  not  with 
the  audacity,  of  Colley  Gibber",  emended  much  more  freely 
than  the  copyist  of  A,.  The  stage-directions  of  the  Folio 
are,  they  admit,  "more  precise  and  ample".  Other  scholars, 
both  in  England  and  Germany,  are  of  opinion  that  the  read- 
ing of  the  Folio  is  almost  invariably  to  be  preferred.  The 
Quartos,  they  say,  were  practically  pirated  editions ;  for  it 
was  not  in  the  interest  of  the  company  to  which  an  actor- 
dramatist  belonged,  to  have  his  plays  printed  while  they 
were  still  being  performed.  They  must  have  found  their 
way  into  type  by  a  circuitous  route,  probably  through  an  old 
and  tattered  theatre  copy,  the  gaps  in  which  would  be  filled 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

by  actors'  "gag".1  The  Folio,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the 
view  of  these  scholars,  was  printed  as  nearly  as  possible 
directly  from  Shakespeare's  original  version,  the  few  omis- 
sions being  purely  accidental.  The  whole  subject  is,  as  the 
Cambridge  Editors  say,  extremely  complex  and  difficult,  and 
here  we  can  do  no  more  than  indicate  the  conditions  of  the 
problem.  A  full  and  elaborate  statement  of  both  sides  of 
the  question  will  be  found  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  New 
Shakespere  Society  for  1875-76. 

1  This  is  practically  the  theory  set  forth  by  N.  Delius  in  the  Jahrbuch  der 
deutschen  Shakesp.-Gesellschaft,  vol.  vii.  pp.  124,  &c.  In  vol.  xv.  of  the  same 
periodical  (pp.  301  ff.)  Alex.  Schmidt  attempts  to  prove  that  the  text  of  the 
First  Quarto  was  not  derived  from  any  manuscript  at  all,  but  taken  down  "steno- 
graphically  "  during  performances  of  the  play. 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS. 

KING  EDWARD  the  Fourth. 

EDWARD,  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  King  Edward  V.,  i 

,.,,..,  /  *oni  to  the  king 

RICHARD,  Duke  of  t  ork, 

(•FoRi.E,   Duke  uf  Clarence.  ,  brothers  to  the 

KICHAKD,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  afterwards  King  Richard  III  ,  )          king. 

A  young  son  of  Clarence. 

HENRY,  Earl  uf  Richmond,  afterwards  King  Henry  VII. 

CARDINAL  Hot  KCHIER,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

THOMAS  ROTHKRHAM.  Archbishop  of  York. 

JOHN  MORTON,  Bishop  of  Ely. 

DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM. 

DUKE  or  NORFOLK. 

EARL  OF  SURREY,  his  son. 

EARL  RIVERS,  brother  to  Elizabeth. 

MARQUIS  OF  DORSET  and  I.OKD  GREY,  sons  to  Elizabeth. 

EARL  OF  OXFORD. 

LORD  HASTINGS. 

LORD  STANLEY,  called  also  EARL  op  DERBY. 

LORD  LOVEL. 

SIR  THOMAS  VAI-GHAN. 

SIR  RICHARD  RATCLIFF. 

SIR  WILLIAM  CATESBY. 

SIR  JAMES  TYRREL. 

SIR  JAMES  BLOUNT. 

SIR  WALTER  HERBERT. 

SIR  ROBERT  BRAKENBURY,  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 

CHRISTOPHER  URSWICK,  a  priest      Another  Priest. 

TRESSEL  and  BERKELEY,  gentlemen  attending  on  the  Lady  Anne. 

Lord  Mayor  of  London.     Sheriff  of  Wiltshire. 

ELIZABETH,  queen  to  King  Edward  IV. 
MARGARET,  widow  of  King  Henry  VI. 
DUCHESS  OF  YORK,  mother  to  King  Edward  IV. 

LADY  ANNE,  widow  of  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  son  to  King  Henry  VI. ;  after 
wards  married  to  Richard. 

A  young  Daughter  of  Clarence    MARGARET  PLANTAGENET 

Ghosts  of  those  murdered   by   Richard    III.,    Lords  and   other  Attendants;   a 
Pursuivant,  Scrivener,  Citizens,  Murderers,  Messengers,  Soldiers,  &c. 

SCENE:  England. 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 


ACT   I. 

SCENE  I.    London.    A  street. 

Enter  RICHARD,  DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER,  solus. 

Glou.  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York ; 
And  all  the  clouds  that  lour'd  upon  our  house 
In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 
Now  are  our  brows  bound  with  victorious  wreaths ; 
Our  bruised  arms  hung  up  for  monuments ; 
Our  stern  alarums  changed  to  merry  meetings, 
Our  dreadful  marches  to  delightful  measures. 
Grim-visaged  war  hath  smooth'd  his  wrinkled  front ; 
And  now,  instead  of  mounting  barbed  steeds  10 

To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful  adversaries, 
He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber 
To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute. 
But  I,  that  am  not  shaped  for  sportive  tricks, 
Nor  made  to  court  an  amorous  looking-glass ; 
I,  that  am  rudely  stamp'd,  and  want  love's  majesty 
To  strut  before  a  wanton  ambling  nymph ; 
I,  that  am  curtail'd  of  this  fair  proportion, 
Cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  nature, 
Deform'd,  unfinish'd,  sent  before  my  time  zc 

Into  this  breathing  world,  scarce  half  made  up, 
And  that  so  lamely  and  unfashionable 
That  dogs  bark  at  me  as  I  halt  by  them  ; 
Why,  I,  in  this  weak  piping  time  of  peace, 
Have  no  delight  to  pass  away  the  time, 
Unless  to  spy  my  shadow  in  the  sun 
And  de"scant  on  mine  own  deformity  : 
And  therefore,  since  I  cannot  prove  a  lover, 
To  entertain  these  fair  well-spoken  days, 


*2  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  [Act  I. 

I  am  determined  to  prove  a  villain  30 

And  hate  the  idle  pleasures  of  these  days. 

Plots  have  I  laid,  inductions  dangerous, 

By  drunken  prophecies,  libels  and  dreams, 

To  set  my  brother  Clarence  and  the  king 

In  deadly  hate  the  one  against  the  other: 

And  if  King  Edward  be  as  true  and  just 

As  I  am  subtle,  false  and  treacherous, 

This  day  should  Clarence  closely  be  mew'd  up, 

About  a  prophecy,  which  says  that  G 

Of  Edward's  heirs  the  murderer  shall  be.  40 

Dive,  thoughts,  down  to  my  soul :  here  Clarence  comes. 

Enter  CLARENCE,  guarded,  and  BRAKENBURY. 

Brother,  good  day:  what  means  this  armed  guard 
That  waits  upon  your  grace? 

Clar.  His  majesty, 

Tendering  my  person's  safety,  hath  appointed 
This  conduct  to  convey  me  to  the  Tower. 

Glou.  Upon  what  cause? 

Clar.  Because  my  name  is  George. 

Glou.  Alack,  my  lord,  that  fault  is  none  of  yours ; 
He  should,  for  that,  commit  your  godfathers : 
O,  belike  his  majesty  hath  some  intent 

That  you  shall  be  new-christen'd  in  the  Tower.  5<- 

But  what's  the  matter,  Clarence?  may  I  know? 

Clar.  Yea,  Richard,  when  I  know ;  for  I  protest 
As  yet  I  do  not :  but,  as  I  can  learn, 
He  hearkens  after  prophecies  and  dreams ; 
And  from  the  cross-row  plucks  the  letter  G, 
And  says  a  wizard  told  him  that  by  G 
His  issue  disinherited  should  be; 
And,  for  my  name  of  George  begins  with  G, 
It  follows  in  his  thought  that  I  am  he. 

These,  as  I  learn,  and  such  like  toys  as  these  60 

Have  moved  his  highness  to  commit  me  now. 

Glou.  Why,  this  it  is.  when  men  are  ruled  by  women : 
'T  is  not  the  king  that  sends  you  to  the  Tower ; 
My  Lady  Grey  his  wife,  Clarence,  't  is  she 
That  tempers  him  to  this  extremity. 
Was  it  not  she  and  that  good  man  of  worship, 
Anthony  Woodville,  her  brother  there, 
That  made  him  send  Lord  Hastings  to  the  Tower, 
From  whence  this  present  day  he  is  delivered? 
We  are  not  safe,  Clarence ;  we  are  not  safe.  70 


Scene  i.]        KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  23 


80 


34  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I. 

If  heaven  will  take  the  present  at  our  hands.  120 

Hut  who  comes  here?  the  new-deliver'd  Hastings? 

Enter  LORD  HASTINGS. 

Hast.  Good  time  of  day  unto  my  gracious  lord  ! 

Clou.  As  much  unto  my  good  lord  chamberlain  ! 
Well  are  you  welcome  to  the  open  air. 
How  hath  your  lordship  brook'd  imprisonment? 

Hast.  With  patience,  noble  lord,  as  prisoners  must : 
But  I  shall  live,  my  lord,  to  give  them  thanks 
That  were  the  cause  of  my  imprisonment. 

Clou.  No  doubt,  no  doubt;  and  so  shall  Clarence  too; 
For  they  that  were  your  enemies  are  his,  130 

And  have  prevail'd  as  much  on  him  as  you. 

Hast.  More  pity  that  the  eagle  should  be  mew'd, 
While  kites  and  buzzards  prey  at  liberty. 

Clou.  What  news  abroad? 

Hast.  No  news  so  bad  abroad  as  this  at  home ; 
The  king  is  sickly,  weak  and  melancholy, 
And  his  physicians  fear  him  mightily. 

Clou.   Now,  by  Saint  Paul,  this  news  is  bad  indeed. 
O,  he  hath  kept  an  evil  diet  long, 
And  overmuch  consumed  his  royal  person:  140 

'T  is  very  grievous  to  be  thought  upon. 
What,  is  he  in  his  bed? 

Hast.  He  is. 

Clou.  Go  you  before,  and  I  will  follow  you. 

\Exit  Hastings. 

He  cannot  live,  I  hope ;  and  must  not  die 
Till  George  be  pack'd  with  post-horse  up  to  heaven. 
I  '11  in,  to  urge  his  hatred  more  to  Clarence, 
With  lies  well  steel'd  with  weighty  arguments  ; 
And,  if  I  fail  not  in  my  deep  intent, 
Clarence  hath  not  another  day  to  live:  150 

Which  done,  God  take  King  Edward  to  his  mercy, 
And  leave  the  world  for  me  to  bustle  in  ! 
For  then  I  '11  marry  Warwick's  youngest  daughter. 
What  though  I  kill'd  her  husband  and  her  father? 
The  readiest  way  to  make  the  wench  amends 
Is  to  become  her  husband  and  her  father: 
The  which  will  I  ;  not  all  so  much  for  love 
As  for  another  secret  close  intent, 
By  marrying  her  which  I  must  reach  unto. 
But  yet  I  run  before  my  horse  to  market :  :6o 


Scene  2.]        KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  25 

Clarence  still  breathes  ;  Edward  still  lives  and  reigns  : 
When  they  are  gone,  then  must  I  count  my  gains.         \Exit. 

SCENE  II.     The  same.     Another  street. 

Enter  the  corpse  of  KING  HENRY  the  Sixth,  Gentlemen  with 
halberds  to  guard  it;  LADY  ANNE  being  the  mourner. 

Anne.  Set  down,  set  down  your  honourable  load, 
If  honour  may  be  shrouded  in  a  hearse, 
Whilst  I  awhile  obsequiously  lament 
The  untimely  fall  of  virtuous  Lancaster. 
Poor  key-cold  figure  of  a  holy  king  ! 
Pale  ashes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster ! 
Thou  bloodless  remnant  of  that  royal  blood ! 
Be  it  lawful  that  I  invocate  thy  ghost, 
To  hear  the  lamentations  of  poor  Anne, 

Wife  to  thy  Edward,  to  thy  slaughter^  son,  10 

Stabb'd  by  the  selfsame  hand  that  made  these  wounds ! 
Lo,  in  these  windows  that  let  forth  thy  life, 
I  pour  the  helpless  balm  of  my  poor  eyes. 
Cursed  be  the  hand  that  made  these  fatal  holes ! 
Cursed  be  the  heart  that  had  the  heart  to  do  it ! 
Cursed  the  blood  that  let  this  blood  from  hence! 
More  direful  hap  betide  that  hated  wretch, 
That  makes  us  wretched  by  the  death  of  thee, 
Than  I  can  wish  to  adders,  spiders,  toads, 
Or  any  creeping  venom'd  thing  that  lives !  20 

If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 
Prodigious,  and  untimely  brought  to  light, 
Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 
May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view; 
And  that  be  heir  to  his  unhappiness ! 
If  ever  he  have  wife,  let  her  be  made 
As  miserable  by  the  death  of  him 
As  I  am  made  by  my  poor  lord  and  thee ! 
Come,  now  towards  Chertsey  with  your  holy  load, 
Taken  from  Paul's  to  be  interred  there ;  30 

And  still,  as  you  are  weary  of  the  weight, 
Rest  you,  whiles  I  lament  King  Henry's  corse. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER. 

Glou.  Stay,  you  that  bear  the  corse,  and  set  it  down. 
Anne.  What  black  magician  conjures  up  this  fiend, 
To  stop  devoted  charitable  deeds? 


26  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I 

Clou.  Villains,  set  down  the  corse;  or,  by  Saint  Paul, 
/  '11  make  a  corse  of  him  that  disobeys. 

Gent.   My  lord,  stand  back,  and  let  the  coffin  pass. 

Clou.   UnmannerM  dog!  stand  thou,  when  I  command: 
Advance  thy  halberd  higher  than  my  breast,  40 

Or,  by  Saint  Paul,  I  '11  strike  thee  to  my  foot, 
And  spurn  upon  thee,  beggar,  for  thy  boldness. 

Anne.  What,  do  you  tremble?  are  you  all  afraid? 
Alas,  I  blame  you  not ;  for  you  are  mortal, 
And  mortal  eyes  cannot  endure  the  devil. 
Avaunt,  thou  dreadful  minister  of  hell ! 
Thou  hadst  but  power  over  his  mortal  body, 
His  soul  thou  canst  not  have;  therefore,  be  gone. 

Glou.  Sweet  saint,  for  charity,  be  not  so  curst. 

Anne.  Fouldevil,for  God's  sake,  hence,  and  trouble  us  not;  50 
For  thou  hast  made  the  happy  earth  thy  hell, 
Fill'd  it  with  cursing  cries  and  deep  exclaims. 
If  thou  delight  to  view  thy  heinous  deeds, 
Behold  this  pattern  of  thy  butcheries. 
O,  gentlemen,  see,  see !  dead  Henrys  wounds 
Open  their  cdngeal'd  mouths  and  bleed  afresh! 
Blush,  blush,  thou  lump  of  foul  deformity; 
For  't  is  thy  presence  that  exhales  this  blood 
From  cold  and  empty  veins,  where  no  blood  dwells ; 
Thy  deed,  inhuman  and  unnatural,  60 

Provokes  this  deluge  most  unnatural. 
O  God,  which  this  blood  madest,  revenge  his  death! 
O  earth,  which  this  blood  drink'st,  revenge  his  death ! 
Either  heaven  with  lightning  strike  the  murderer  dead, 
Or  earth,  gape  open  wide  and  eat  him  quick, 
As  thou  dost  swallow  up  this  good  king's  blood, 
Which  his  hell-govern'd  arm  hath  butchered ! 

Glou.   Lady,  you  know  no  rules  of  charity, 
\Vhich  renders  good  for  bad,  blessings  for  curses. 

Anne.  Villain,  thou  know'st  no  law  of  God  nor  man  :       70 
No  beast  so  fierce  but  knows  some  touch  of  pity. 

Glou.  But  I  know  none,  and  therefore  am  no  beast. 

Anne.  O  wonderful,  when  devils  tell  the  truth ! 

Glou.  More  wonderful,  when  angels  are  so  angry. 
Vouchsafe,  divine  perfection  of  a  woman, 
Of  these  supposed  evils,  to  give  me  leave, 
By  circumstance,  but  to  acquit  myself. 

Anne.  Vouchsafe,  defused  infection  of  a  man, 
For  these  known  evils,  but  to  give  me  leave, 
By  circumstance,  to  curse  thy  cursed  self.  So 


Scene  2.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  27 

Clou.  Fairer  than  tongue  can  name  thee,  let  me  have 
Some  patient  leisure  to  excuse  myself. 

Anne.  Fouler  than  heart  can  think  thee,  thou  canst  make 
No  excuse  current,  but  to  hang  thyself. 

Glou.  By  such  despair,  I  should  accuse  myself. 

Anne.  And,  by  despairing,  shouldst  thou  stand  excused, 
For  doing  worthy  vengeance  on  thyself, 
Which  didst  unworthy  slaughter  upon  others. 

Glou.  Say  that  I  slew  them  not  ? 

Anne.  Why,  then  they  are  not  dead : 

But  dead  they  are,  and,  devilish  slave,  by  thee.  90 

Glou.   I  did  not  kill  your  husband. 

Anne.  Why,  then  he  is  alive. 

Glou.  Nay,  he  is  dead ;  and  slain  by  Edward's  hand. 

Anne.  In  thy  foul  throat  thou  liest :  Queen  Margaret  saw 
Thy  murderous  falchion  smoking  in  his  blood ; 
The  which  thou  once  didst  bend  against  her  breast, 
But  that  thy  brothers  beat  aside  the  point. 

Glou.  I  was  provoked  by  her  slanderous  tongue, 
Which  laid  their  guilt  upon  my  guiltless  shoulders. 

Anne.  Thou  wast  provoked  by  thy  bloody  mind, 
!  Which  never  dreamt  on  aught  but  butcheries :  100 

Didst  thou  not  kill  this  king? 

Glou.  I  grant  ye. 

Anne.  Dost  grant  me,  hedgehog?  then,  God  grant  me  too 
Thou  mayst  be  damned  for  that  wicked  deed ! 
O,  he  was  gentle,  mild,  and  virtuous ! 

Glou.  The  fitter  for  the  King  of  heaven,  that  hath  him. 

Anne.  He  is  in  heaven,  where  thou  shalt  never  come. 

Glou.  Let  him  thank  me,  that  holp  to  send  him  thither ; 
For  he  was  fitter  for  that  place  than  earth. 

Anne.  And  thou  unfit  for  any  place  but  hell. 

Glou.  But,  gentle  Lady  Anne, 

To  leave  this  keen  encounter  of  our  wits, 
;And  fall  somewhat  into  a  slower  method, 
Is  not  the  causer  of  the  timeless  deaths 
Of  these  Plantagenets,  Henry  and  Edward, 
;As  blameful  as  the  executioner? 

Anne.  Thou  art  the  cause,  and  most  accursed  effect.      120 

Glou.  Your  beauty  was  the  cause  of  that  effect ; 
Vour  beauty,  which  did  haunt  me  in  my  sleep 
To  undertake  the  death  of  all  the  world, 
5o  I  might  live  one  hour  in  your  sweet  bosom. 

Anne.  If  I  thought  that,  I  tell  thee,  homicide, 
These  nails  should  rend  that  beauty  from  my  cheeks. 


a8  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  : 

Clou.  These  eyes  could  never  endure  sweet  beauty's  wrecl 
You  should  not  blemish  it,  if  I  stood  by : 
As  all  the  world  is  cheered  by  the  sun, 
So  I  by  that ;  it  is  my  day,  my  life.  I  j 

Anne.   Black  night  o'ershade  thy  day,  and  death  thy  life! 

Glou.  Curse  not  thyself,  fair  creature ;  thou  art  both. 

Anne.  \  would  I  were,  to  be  revenged  on  thee. 

Glou.  It  is  a  quarrel  most  unnatural, 
To  be  revenged  on  him  that  loveth  you. 

Anne.   It  is  a  quarrel  ju->t  and  reasonable, 
To  be  revenged  on  him  that  slew  my  husband. 

Glou.   He  that  bereft  thee,  lady,  of  thy  husband, 
Did  it  to  help  thee  to  a  better  husband. 

Anne.  His  better  doth  not  breathe  upon  the  earth.         I  . 

Glou.  He  lives  that  loves  thee  better  than  he  could. 

Anne.  Name  him* 

Glou.  Plantagenet. 

Anne.  Why.  that  was  he. 

Glou.  The  selfsame  name,  but  one  of  better  nature. 

Anne.  Where  is  he? 

Glou.  Here.     [She  spitteth  at  him.}     Why  do; 

thou  spit  at  me ! 

Anne.  Would  it  were  mortal  poison,  for  thy  sake ! 

Glou.  Never  came  poison  from  so  sweet  a  place. 

Anne.  Never  hung  poison  on  a  fouler  toad. 
Out  of  my  sight !  thou  dost  infect  my  eyes. 

Glou.  Thine  eyes,  sweet  lady,  have  infected  mine.  15 

Anne.  Would  they  were  basilisks,  to  strike  thee  dead ! 

Glou.   I  would  they  were,  that  I  might  die  at  once ; 
For  now  they  kill  me  with  a  living  death. 
Those  eyes  of  thine  from  mine  have  drawn  salt  tears, 
Shamed  their  aspect  with  store  of  childish  drops: 
These  eyes,  which  never  shed  remorseful  tear, 
No,  when  my  father  York  and  Edward  wept. 
To  hear  the  piteous  moan  that  Rutland  made 
When  black-faced  Clifford  shook  his  sword  at  him ; 
Nor  when  thy  warlike  father,  like  a  child,  it 

Told  the  sad  story  of  my  father's  death, 
And  twenty  times  made  pause  to  sob  and  weep, 
That  all  the  standers-by  had  wet  their  cheeks, 
Like  trees  bedash'd  with  rain :  in  that  sad  time 
My  manly  eyes  did  scorn  an  humble  tear; 
And  what  these  sorrows  could  not  thence  exhale, 
Thy  beauty  hath,  and  made  them  blind  with  weeping. 
I  never  sued  to  friend  nor  enemy; 


Scene  2.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  29 

My  tongue  could  never  learn  sweet  smoothing  words ; 

But,  now  thy  beauty  is  proposed  my  fee,  170 

My  proud  heart  sues  and  prompts  my  tongue  to  speak. 

[She  looks  scornfully  at  him. 

Teach  not  thy  lips  such  scorn,  for  they  were  made 
For  kissing,  lady,  not  for  such  contempt. 
If  thy  revengeful  heart  cannot  forgive, 
Lo,  here  I  lend  thee  this  sharp-pointed  sword ; 
Which  if  thou  please  to  hide  in  this  true  bosom, 
And  let  the  soul  forth  that  adoreth  thee, 
I  lay  it  naked  to  the  deadly  stroke, 
And  humbly  beg  the  death  upon  my  knee. 

\He  lays  his  breast  open :  she  offers  at  it  with  his  sword. 
Nay,  do  not  pause;  for  I  did  kill  King  Henry,  jgo 

But  't  was  thy  beauty  that  provoked  me. 
Nay,  now  dispatch ;  't  was  I  that  stabb'd  young  Edward, 
But  't  was  thy  heavenly  face  that  set  me  on. 

{Here  she  lets  fall  the  sword. 
Pake  up  the  sword  again,  or  take  up  me. 

Anne.  Arise,  dissembler:  though  I  wish  thy  death, 
[  will  not  be  the  executioner. 

Clou.  Then  bid  me  kill  myself,  and  I  will  do  it. 

Anne.  I  have  already. 

Clou.  Tush,  that  was  in  thy  rage  : 

speak  it  again,  and,  even  with  the  word, 
That  hand,  which,  for  thy  love,  did  kill  thy  love,  .  QC 

Shall,  for  thy  love,  kill  a  far  truer  love  ; 
To  both  their  deaths  thou  shalt  be  accessary. 

Anne.  I  would  I  knew  thy  heart. 

Glou.  'Tis  figured  in  my  tongue. 

Anne.  I  fear  me  both  are  false. 

Glou.  Then  never  man  was  true. 

Anne.  Well,  well,  put  up  your  sword. 

Glou.  Say,  then,  my  peace  is  made. 

Anne.  That  shall  you  know  hereafter. 

Glou.  But  shall  I  live  in  hope?  200 

I  Anne.  All  men,  I  hope,  live  so. 

Glou.  Vouchsafe  to  wear  this  ring. 

Anne.  To  take  is  not  to  give. 

Glou.  Look,  how  this  ring  encompasseth  thy  finger, 
Iven  so  thy  breast  encloseth  my  poor  heart ; 
Vear  both  of  them,  for  both  of  them  are  thine, 
md  if  thy  poor  devoted  suppliant  may 
Jut  beg  one  favour  at  thy  gracious  hand, 
Tiou  dost  confirm  his  happiness  for  ever. 


y>  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I 

Anne.  What  is  it?  2:c 

Glou.  That  it  would  please  thee  leave  these  sad  designs    ' 
!'<•  him  that  hath  more  cause  to  be  a  mourner, 
And  presently  repair  to  Crosby  I'lace ; 
Where,  after  1  have  solemnly  interred 
At  Chertsey  monastery  this  noble  king, 
And  wet  his  grave  with  my  repentant  tears, 
I  will  with  all  expedient  duty  see  you : 
For  divers  unknown  reasons,  I  beseech  you, 
Grant  me  this  boon. 

Anne.  With  all  my  heart ;  and  much  it  joys  me  too,       -2( 
To  see  you  are  become  so  penitent. 
Tressel  and  Berkeley,  go  along  with  me. 

Glou.  Hid  me  farewell. 

Anne.  'T  is  more  than  you  deserve ; 

But  since  you  teach  me  how  to  flatter  you, 
Imagine  I  have  said  farewell  already. 

[Exeunt  Lady  Anne,  Tressel,  and  Berkeley 

Glou.  Sirs,  take  up  the  corse. 

Gent.  Towards  Chertsey,  noble  lord 

Glou.   No,  to  White- Friars;  there  attend  my  coming. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Gloucesftt 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'd? 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  won? 

I  '11  have  her ;  but  I  will  not  keep  her  long.  2Jt 

What !   I,  that  kill:d  her  husband  and  his  father, 
To  take  her  in  her  heart's  extremes!  hate, 
With  curses  in  her  mouth,  tears  in  her  eyes, 
The  bleeding  witness  of  her  hatred  by ; 
Having  God,  her  conscience,  and  these  bars  against  me. 
And  I  nothing  to  back  my  suit  at  all, 
But  the  plain  devil  and  dissembling  looks, 
And  yet  to  win  her,  all  the  world  to  nothing ! 
Ha! 

Hath  she  forgot  already  that  brave  prince,  241 

Edward,  her  lord,  whom  I,  some  three  months  since, 
Stabb'd  in  my  angry  mood  at  Tewksbury? 
A  sweeter  and  a  lovelier  gentleman, 
Framed  in  the  prodigality  of  nature, 
Young,  valiant,  wise,  and,  no  doubt,  right  royal, 
The  spacious  world  cannot  again  afford  : 
And  will  she  yet  debase  her  eyes  on  me, 
That  cropp'd  the  golden  prime  of  this  sweet  prince, 
And  made  her  widow  to  a  woful  bed? 
On  me,  whose  all  not  equals  Edward's  moiety?  35' 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  31 

On  me,  that  halt  and  am  unshapen  thus? 

My  dukedom  to  a  beggarly  denier, 

I  do  mistake  my  person  all  this  while : 

Upon  my  life,  she  finds,  although  I  cannot, 

Myself  to  be  a  marvellous  proper  man. 

I'll  be  at  charges  for  a  looking-glass, 

And  entertain  some  score  or  two  of  tailors, 

To  study  fashions  to  adorn  my  body  : 

Since  I  am  crept  in  favour  with  myself, 

I  will  maintain  it  with  some  little  cost  260 

But  first  I  '11  turn  yon  fellow  in  his  grave; 

And  then  return  lamenting  to  my  love. 

Shine  out,  fair  sun,  till  I  have  bought  a  glass, 

That  I  may  see  my  shadow  as  I  pass.  \Exit 


SCENE  III.     The  palace. 
Enter  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  LORD  RIVERS,  and  LORD  GREY. 

Ri-v.  Have  patience,  madam:  there's  no  doubt  his  majesty 
Will  soon  recover  his  accustom'd  health. 

Grey.   In  that  you  brook  it  ill,  it  makes  him  worse: 
Therefore,  for  God's  sake,  entertain  good  comfort, 
And  cheer  his  grace  with  quick  and  merry  words. 

Q.  Eliz.  If  he  were  dead,  what  would  betide  of  me? 

Rh>.  No  other  harm  but  loss  of  such  a  lord. 

Q.  Eliz.  The  loss  of  such  a  lord  includes  all  harm. 

Grey.  The  heavens  have  bless'd  you  with  a  goodly  son, 
To  be  your  comforter  when  he  is  gone.  /c 

Q.  Eliz.  Oh,  he  is  young,  and  his  minority 
Is  put  unto  the  trust  of  Richard  Gloucester, 
A  man  that  loves  not  me,  nor  none  of  you. 

Riv.   Is  it  concluded  he  shall  be  protector? 

Q.  Eliz.  It  is  determined,  not  concluded  yet: 
But  so  it  must  be,  if  the  king  miscarry. 

Enter  BUCKINGHAM  and  DERBY. 

Grey.  Here  come  the  lords  of  Buckingham  and  Derby. 

Buck.  Good  time  of  day  unto  your  royal  grace  ! 

Der.  God  make  your  majesty  joyful  as  you  have  been ! 

Q.  Eliz.    The    Countess    Richmond,   good    my    Lord    of 
Derby,  20 

To  your  good  prayers  will  scarcely  say  amen. 
Yet,  Derby,  notwithstanding  she 's  your  wife. 


KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  I. 


And  loves  not  me,  be  you,  good  lord,  assured 
I  hate  not  you  for  her  proud  arrogance. 

Der.  I  do  beseech  you,  either  not  believe 
The  envious  slanders  of  her  false  accusers; 
Or,  if  she  be  accused  in  true  report, 
Bear  with  her  weakness,  which,  I  think,  proceeds 
From  wayward  sickness,  and  no  grounded  malice. 

Riv.  Saw  you  the  king  to-day,  my  Lord  of  Derby?  30 

Der.  But  now  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  I 
Are  come  from  visiting  his  majesty. 

Q.  Eliz.  What  likelihood  of  his  amendment,  lords? 

Buck.  Madam,  good  hope;  his  grace  speaks  cheerfully. 

Q.  Eliz.  God  grant  him  health!    Did  you  confer  with  him? 

Buck.  Madam,  we  did:  he  desires  to  make  atonement 
Betwixt  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  your  brothers, 
And  betwixt  them  and  my  lord  chamberlain; 
And  sent  to  warn  them  to  his  royal  presence. 

Q.  Eliz.  Would  all  were  well!  but  that  will  never  be:      40 
1  fear  our  happiness  is  at  the  highest. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER,  HASTINGS,  and  DORSET. 

Clou.  They  do  me  wrong,  and  I  will  not  endure  it: 
Who  are  they  that  complain  unto  the  king, 
That  I,  forsooth,  am  stern  and  love  them  not  ? 
By  holy  Paul,  they  love  his  grace  but  lightly 
That  fill  his  ears  with  such  dissentious  rumours. 
Because  I  cannot  flatter  and  speak  fair, 
Smile  in  men's  faces,  smooth,  deceive  and  cog, 
Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish  courtesy, 
I  must  be  held  a  rancorous  enemy. 
Cannot  a  plain  man  live  and  think  no  harm, 
But  thus  his  simple  truth  must  be  abused 
By  silken,  sly,  insinuating  Jacks? 

Riv.  To  whom  in  all  this  presence  speaks  your  grace? 

Clou.  To  thee,  that  hast  nor  honesty  nor  grace. 
When  have  I  injured  thee?  when  done  thee  wrong? 
Or  thee?  or  thee?  or  any  of  your  faction? 
A  plague  upon  you  all !     His  royal  person, — 
Whom  God  preserve  better  than  you  would  wish ! — 
Cannot  be  quiet  scarce  a  breathing-while, 
But  you  must  trouble  him  with  lewd  complaints. 

Q.  Eliz.  Brother  of  Gloucester,  you  mistake  the  matter. 
The  king,  of  his  own  royal  disposition, 
And  not  provoked  by  any  suitor  else ; 
Aiming,  belike,  at  your  interior  hatred, 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD  33 

Which  in  your  outward  actions  shows  itself 
Against  my  kindred,  brothers,  and  myself, 
Makes  him  to  send ;  that  thereby  he  may  gather 
The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  so  remove  it. 

Glou.   I  cannot  tell :  the  world  is  grown  so  bad,  70 

That  wrens  make  prey  where  eagles  dare  not  perch : 
Since  every  Jack  became  a  gentleman, 
There 's  many  a  gentle  person  made  a  Jack. 

Q.  Eliz.    Come,  come,  we  know  your  meaning,  brother 

Gloucester; 

You  envy  my  advancement  and  my  friends' ; 
God  grant  we  never  may  have  need  of  you ! 

Glou.  Meantime,  God  grants  that  we  have  need  of  you : 
Our  brother  is  imprison'd  by  your  means, 
Myself  disgraced,  and  the  nobility 

Held  in  contempt ;  whilst  many  fair  promotions  80 

Are  daily  given  to  ennoble  those 
That  scarce,  some  two  days  since,  were  worth  a  noble. 

Q.  Eliz.  By  Him  that  raised  me  to  this  careful  height 
From  that  contented  hap  which  I  enjoy'd, 
I  never  did  incense  his  majesty 
Against  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  but  have  been 
\.n  earnest  advocate  to  plead  for  him. 
My  lord,  you  do  me  shameful  injury, 
Falsely  to  draw  me  in  these  vile  suspects. 

Glou.  You  may  deny  that  you  were  not  the  cause  90 

Of  my  Lord  Hastings'  late  imprisonment. 

Riv.  She  may,  my  lord,  for — 

Glou.  She  may,  Lord  Rivers!  why,  who  knows  not  so? 
•She  may  do  more,  sir,  than  denying  that : 
She  may  help  you  to  many  fair  preferments, 
Vnd  then  deny  her  aiding  hand  therein, 
\nd  lay  those  honours  on  your  high  deserts. 
iVhat  may  she  not?     She  may,  yea,  marry,  may  she, — 

Riv.  What,  marry,  may  she? 

Glou.  What,  marry,  may  she  !  marry  with  a  king,  100 

^  bachelor,  a  handsome  stripling  too : 

wis  your  grandam  had  a  worser  match. 

Q.  Eliz.  My  Lord  of  Gloucester,  I  have  too  long  borne 
Tour  blunt  upbraidings  and  your  bitter  scoffs: 
iy  heaven,  I  will  acquaint  his  majesty 
Vith  those  gross  taunts  I  often  have  endured. 

had  rather  be  a  country  servant-maid 
Than  a  great  queen,  with  this  condition, 
To  be  thus  taunted,  scorn'd,  and  baited  at: 

( x  233  >  C 


34  KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  [Act 

Enter  QUEEN  MARGARET,  behind. 

Small  joy  have  I  in  being  England's  queen.  1 1  o 

(2-  Mar.  And  lessen'd  be  that  small,  God,  I  beseech  theet 
Thy  honour,  state  and  seat  is  due  to  me. 

'ilou.  What!  threat  you  me  with  telling  of  the  king? 
1  ell  him,  and  spare  not :  look,  what  I  have  said 
I  will  avouch  in  presence  of  the  king : 
I  dare  adventure  to  be  sent  to  the  Tower. 
'T  is  time  to  speak ;  my  pains  are  quite  forgot. 

Q.  Mar.  Out,  devil!  1  remember  them  too  well: 
Thou  slewest  my  husband  Henry  in  the  Tower, 
And  Edward,  my  poor  son,  at  Tewksbury.  I2C 

Glou.  Ere  you  were  queen,  yea,  or  your  husband  king, 
I  was  a  pack-horse  in  his  great  affairs ; 
A  weeder-out  of  his  proud  adversaries, 
A  liberal  rewarder  of  his  friends: 
To  royalise  his  blood  I  spilt  mine  own. 

Q.  Afar.  Yea,  and  much  better  blood  than  his  or  thine. 

Glou.  In  all  which  time  you  and  your  husband  Grey 
Were  factious  for  the  house  of  Lancaster ; 
And,  Rivers,  so  were  you.     Was  not  your  husband 
In  Margaret's  battle  at  St.  Albans  slain?  130 

Let  me  put  in  your  minds,  if  you  forget, 
What  you  have  been  ere  now,  and  what  you  are ; 
Withal,  what  I  have  been,  and  what  I  am. 

Q.  Afar.  A  murderous  villain,  and  so  still  thou  art. 

Glou.   Poor  Clarence  did  forsake  his  father,  Warwick ; 
Yea,  and  forswore  himself, — which  Jesu  pardon  ! — 

Q.  Afar.  Which  God  revenge ! 

Glou.  To  fight  on  Edward's  party  for  the  crown ; 
And  for  his  meed,  poor  lord,  he  is  mew'd  up. 
I  would  to  God  my  heart  were  flint,  like  Edward's ; 
Or  Edward's  soft  and  pitiful,  like  mine : 
I  am  too  childish-foolish  for  this  world. 

Q.  Afar.  Hie  thee  to  hell  for  shame,  and  leave  the  world, 
Thou  cacodemon !  there  thy  kingdom  is. 

A' iv.  My  Lord  of  Gloucester,  in  those  busy  days 
Which  here  you  urge  to  prove  us  enemies, 
We  follow'd  then  our  lord,  our  lawful  king : 
So  should  we  you,  if  you  should  be  our  king. 

Glou.   If  I  should  be!  I  had  rather  be  a  pedlar: 
Far  be  it  from  my  heart,  the  thought  of  it ! 

Q.  Eliz.  As  little  joy,  my  lord,  as  you  suppose 
You  should  enjoy,  were  you  this  country's  king, 


Scene  3.]         KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  35 

As  little  joy  may  you  suppose  in  me, 
That  I  enjoy,  being  the  queen  thereof. 

Q.  Mar.  A  little  joy  enjoys  the  queen  thereof; 
For  I  am  she,  and  altogether  joyless. 

I  can  no  longer  hold  me  patient.  [Advancing. 

Hear  me,  you  wrangling  pirates,  that  fall  out 
In  sharing  that  which  you  have  pill'd  from  me ! 
Which  of  you  trembles  not  that  looks  on  me?  160 

If  not,  that,  I  being  queen,  you  bow  like  subjects, 
Yet  that,  by  you  deposed,  you  quake  like  rebels? 
O  gentle  villain,  do  not  turn  away ! 

Clou.  Foul,  wrinkled  witch,  what  makest  thou  in  my  sight? 

Q.  Mar.  But  repetition  of  what  thou  hast  marr'd ; 
That  will  I  make  before  I  let  thee  go. 

Glou.  Wert  thou  not  banished  on  pain  of  death? 

Q.  Mar.  I  was ;  but  I  do  find  more  pain  in  banishment 
Than  death  can  yield  me  here  by  my  abode. 
A  husband  and  a  son  thou  owest  to  me ;  170 

And  thou  a  kingdom ;  all  of  you  allegiance : 
The  sorrow  that  I  have,  by  right  is  yours, 
And  all  the  pleasures  you  usurp  are  mine. 

Glou.  The  curse  my  noble  father  laid  on  thee, 
When  thou  didst  crown  his  warlike  brows  with  paper 
And  with  thy  scorns  drew'st  rivers  from  his  eyes, 
And  then,  to  dry  them,  gavest  the  duke  a  clout 
Steep'd  in  the  faultless  blood  of  pretty  Rutland, — 
His  curses,  then  from  bitterness  of  soul 
Denounced  against  thee,  are  all  fall'n  upon  thee;  180 

And  God,  not  we,  hath  plagued  thy  bloody  deed. 

Q.  Eliz.  So  just  is  God,  to  right  the  innocent. 

Hast.  O,  't  was  the  foulest  deed  to  slay  that  babe, 
And  the  most  merciless  that  e'er  was  heard  of! 

Riv.  Tyrants  themselves  wept  when  it  was  reported. 

Dor.  No  man  but  prophesied  revenge  for  it. 

Buck.  Northumberland,  then  present,  wept  to  see  it. 

Q.  Mar.  What !  were  you  snarling  all  before  I  came, 
Ready  to  catch  each  other  by  the  throat, 
And  turn  you  all  your  hatred  now  on  me?  190 

Did  York's  dread  curse  prevail  so  much  with  heaven 
That  Henry's  death,  my  lovely  Edward's  death, 
Their  kingdom's  loss,  my  woful  banishment, 
Could  all  but  answer  for  that  peevish  brat? 
Can  curses  pierce  the  clouds  and  enter  heaven? 
Why,  then,  give  way,  dull  clouds,  to  my  quick  curses ! 
If  not  by  war,  by  surfeit  die  your  king, 


;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 


As  ours  by  murder,  to  make  him  a  king ! 

Kdward  thy  son,  which  now  is  Prince  of  Wales, 

For  Kdward  my  son,  which  was  Prince  of  Wales, 

Die  in  his  youth  by  like  untimely  violence! 

Thyself  a  queen,  for  me  thai  was  a  queen, 

Outlive  thy  glory,  like  my  wretched  self! 

Long  mayst  ihou  live  to  wail  thy  children's  loss; 

And  see  another,  as  I  see  thee  now, 

Deck'd  in  thy  rights,  as  thou  art  stall'd  in  mine  1 

Long  die  ihy  happy  days  l>efore  ihy  death ; 

And,  after  many  lengthen'd  hours  of  grief, 

Die  neither  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  queen! 

Rivers  and  Dorset,  you  were  slanders  by, 

And  so  wast  thou,  Lord  Hastings,  when  my  son 

Was  stabb'd  with  bloody  daggers :  God,  I  pray  him, 

That  none  of  you  may  live  your  natural  age, 

But  by  some  unlook'd  accident  cut  off! 

Glou.   Have  done  thy  charm,  ihou  haleful  withered  hag  1 

Q.  Mar.  And  leave  out  thee !  stay,  dog,  for  ihou  shall  hear 
If  heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store 
Exceeding  those  lhal  I  can  wish  upon  ihee, 
O,  lei  them  keep  it  till  thy  sins  be  ripe, 
And  then  hurl  down  their  indignalion 
On  thee,  the  troubler  of  the  poor  world's  peace ! 
The  worm  of  conscience  still  begnaw  thy  soul ! 
Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  while  thou  livest, 
And  take  deep  trailers  for  ihy  dearesl  friends! 
No  sleep  close  up  lhal  deadly  eye  of  ihine, 
Unless  it  be  whilst  some  tormenting  dream 
Affrights  thee  with  a  hell  of  ugly  devils  ! 
Thou  elvish-mark'd,  abortive,  rooting  hog ! 
Thou  thai  wast  seal'd  in  thy  nativity 
The  slave  of  nalure  and  ihe  son  of  hell ! 
Thou  rag  of  honour !  thou  delested — 

Glou.  Margaret. 

Q.  Mar.  Richard ! 

Glou.  Ha ! 

Q.  Mar.  \  call  thee  not 

Glou.  I  cry  thee  mercy  then,  for  I  had  thought 
That  thou  hadst  call'd  me  all  ihese  bitter  names. 

Q.  Mar.  Why,  so  I  did ;  but  look'd  for  no  reply. 
O,  let  me  make  the  period  to  my  curse ! 

Glou.  'T  is  done  by  me,  and  ends  in  "  Margaret ". 

Q.  Eliz.  Thus  have  vou  brealhed  your  curse  against 
self. 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  37 

Q.  Mar.  Poor  painted  queen,  vain  flourish  of  my  fortune ! 
Why  strew'st  thou  sugar  on  that  bottled  spider, 
Whose  deadly  web  ensnareth  thee  about? 
Fool,  fool !  thou  whet'st  a  knife  to  kill  thyself. 
The  time  will  come  when  thou  shalt  wish  for  me 
To  help  thee  curse  that  poisonous  bunch-back'd  toad. 

Hast.  False-boding  woman,  end  thy  frantic  curse, 
Lest  to  thy  harm  thou  move  our  patience. 

Q.  Mar.   Foul  shame  upon  you!  you  have  all  moved  mine. 

Riv.   Were  you  well  served,  you  would  be   taught  your 
duty.  250 

Q.  Mar.  To  serve  me  well,  you  all  should  do  me  duty, 
Teach  me  to  be  your  queen,  and  you  my  subjects : 
O,  serve  me  well,  and  teach  yourselves  that  duty ! 

Dor.  Dispute  not  with  her ;  she  is  lunatic. 

Q.  Mar.  Peace,  master  marquess,  you  are  malapert : 
Your  fire-new  stamp  of  honour  is  scarce  current. 
0,  that  your  young  nobility  could  judge 
What  't  were  to  lose  it,  and  be  miserable  ! 
They  that  stand  high  have  many  blasts  to  shake  them ; 
\nd  if  they  fall,  they  dash  themselves  to  pieces.  260 

Glou.  Good  counsel,  marry :  learn  it,  learn  it,  marquess. 

Dor.  It  toucheth  you,  my  lord,  as  much  as  me. 

Glou.  Yea,  and  much  more :  but  I  was  born  so  high, 
Dur  aery  buildeth  in  the  cedar's  top, 
Vnd  dallies  with  the  wind  and  scorns  the  sun. 

Q.  Mar.  And  turns  the  sun  to  shade  ;  alas !  alas  ! 
Witness  my  son,  now  in  the  shade  of  death  ; 
Vhose  bright  out-shining  beams  thy  cloudy  wrath 
iath  in  eternal  darkness  folded  up. 

Tour  aery  buildeth  in  our  aery's  nest.  270 

)  God,  that  seest  it,  do  not  suffer  it ; 
Is  it  was  won  with  blood,  lost  be  it  so ! 

Buck.  Have  done  !  for  shame,  if  not  for  charity. 

Q.  Mar.  Urge  neither  charity  nor  shame  to  me: 
i  Incharitably  with  me  have  you  dealt, 
ind  shamefully  by  you  my  hopes  are  butcher'd. 
ly  charity  is  outrage,  life  my  shame: 
Jid  in  that  shame  still  live  my  sorrow's  rage ! 

Buck.  Have  done,  have  done. 

I    Q.  Mar.  O  princely  Buckingham,  I  '11  kiss  thy  hand,      280 
i  sign  of  league  and  amity  with  thee : 
Fow  fair  befall  thee  and  thy  noble  house! 
'hy  garments  are  not  spotted  with  our  blood, 
(or  thou  within  the  compass  of  my  curse. 


38  KING    RICHARD   TIIK  THIRD.  [Act  I. 

Buck.  Nor  no  one  here ;  for  curses  never  pass 
The  lips  of  those  that  breathe  them  in  the  air. 

Q.  Afar.   1  '11  not  believe  but  they  ascend  the  sky, 
And  there  awake  God's  gentle-sleeping  peace. 

0  Buckingham,  take  heed  of  yonder  dog! 

Look,  when  he  fawns,  he  bites ;  and  when  he  bites,  290 

His  venom  tooth  will  rankle  to  the  death : 

Have  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him ; 

Sin,  death,  and  hell  have  set  their  marks  on  him, 

And  all  their  ministers  attend  on  him. 

Glou.  What  doth  she  say,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham? 

Ruck.  Nothing  that  1  respect,  my  gracious  lord. 

Q.  Mar.  What,  dost  thou  scorn  me  for  my  gentle  counsel? 
And  soothe  the  devil  that  I  warn  thee  from? 
O,  but  remember  this  another  day, 

When  he  shall  split  thy  very  heart  with  sorrow,  300 

And  say  poor  Margaret  was  a  prophetess  1 
Live  each  of  you  the  subjects  to  his  hate, 
And  he  to  yours,  and  all  of  you  to  God's !  [Exit* 

Hast.   My  hair  doth  stand  on  end  to  hear  her  curses. 

Riv.  And  so  doth  mine:  I  muse  why  she's  at  liberty. 

Glou.   I  cannot  blame  her :  by  God's  holy  mother, 
She  hath  had  too  much  wrong;  and  I  repent 
My  part  thereof  that  I  have  done  to  her. 

Q.  Eliz.   I  never  did  her  any,  to  my  knowledge. 

Glou.  Hut  you  have  all  the  vantage  of  her  wrong.  310 

1  was  too  hot  to  do  somebody  good, 
That  is  too  cold  in  thinking  of  it  now. 
Marry,  as  for  Clarence,  he  is  well  repaid ; 
He  is  frank'd  up  to  fatting  for  his  pains: 
God  pardon  them  that  are  the  cause  of  it ! 

Riv.  A  virtuous  and  a  Christian-like  conclusion, 
To  pray  for  them  that  have  done  scathe  to  us. 

Glou.  So  do  I  ever:  [Aside]  being  well  advised. 
For  had  I  cursed  now,  I  had  cursed  myself. 

Enter  CATKSBY. 

Cates.  Madam,  his  majesty  doth  call  for  you  ;  320 

And  for  your  grace ;  and  you,  my  noble  lords. 

Q.  Eliz.  Catesby,  we  come.     Lords,  will  you  go  with  us?   | 

A';:/.   Madam,  we  will  attend  your  grace. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Gloucester. 

Ghu.   I  do  the  wrong,  and  first  begin  to  brawL 
The  secret  mischiefs  that  I  set  abroach 
i  lay  unto  the  grievous  charge  of  others. 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  39 

Clarence,  whom  I,  indeed,  have  laid  in  darkness, 
I  do  beweep  to  many  simple  gulls ; 
Namely,  to  Hastings,  Derby,  Buckingham : 
And  say  it  is  the  queen  and  her  allies  330 

That  stir  the  king  against  the  duke  my  brother. 
Now,  they  believe  it ;  and  withal  whet  me 
To  be  revenged  on  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey : 
But  then  I  sigh ;  and,  with  a  piece  of  scripture, 
Tell  them  that  God  bids  us  do  good  for  evil : 
And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villainy 
With  old  odd  ends  stolen  out  of  holy  writ ; 
d  seem  a  saint,  when  most  I  play  the  devil. 

Enter  two  Murderers. 

But  soft !  here  come  my  executioners. 

How  now,  my  hardy,  stout  resolved  mates !  340 

Are  you  now  going  to  dispatch  this  deed? 

First  Murd.  We  are,  my  lord;  and  come  to  have  the  warrant, 
That  we  may  be  admitted  where  he  is. 

Glou.  Well  thought  upon ;  I  have  it  here  about  me. 

[Gives  the  warrant. 

When  you  have  done,  repair  to  Crosby  Place. 
But,  sirs,  be  sudden  in  the  execution, 
Withal  obdurate,  do  not  hear  him  plead ; 
For  Clarence  is  well-spoken,  and  perhaps 
May  move  your  hearts  to  pity,  if  you  mark  him. 

First  Murd.  Tush!  350 

Fear  not,  my  lord,  we  will  not  stand  to  prate ; 
Talkers  are  no  good  doers  :  be  assured 
We  come  to  use  our  hands  and  not  our  tongues. 

Glou.  Your  eyes  drop  millstones,  when  fools'  eyes  drop 

tears : 

I  like  you,  lads  ;  about  your  business  straight ; 
Go,  go,  dispatch. 

First  Murd.       We  will,  my  noble  lord.  {Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     London.     The  Tower. 

Enter  CLARENCE  and  BRAKENBURY. 

Brak.  Why  looks  your  grace  so  heavily  to-day? 

Clar.  O,  I  have  pass'd  a  miserable  night, 
So  full  of  ugly  sights,  of  ghastly  dreams, 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man. 
I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night, 


40  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  L 

Though  't  were  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days, 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time ! 

Brak.  What  was  your  dream?     I  long  to  hear  you  tell  it 

Clar.  Methoughts  that  I  had  broken  from  the  Tower, 
And  was  embark'd  to  cross  to  Burgundy :  10 

And,  in  my  company,  my  brother  Gloucester ; 
Who  from  my  cabin  tempted  me  to  walk 
Upon  the  hatches:  thence  we  looked  toward  England, 
And  cited  up  a  thousand  fearful  times, 
During  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster 
That  had  befall'n  us.     As  we  paced  along 
Upon  the  giddy  footing  of  the  hatches, 
Methought  that  Gloucester  stumbled;  and,  in  falling, 
Struck  me,  that  thought  to  stay  him,  overboard, 
Into  the  tumbling  billows  of  the  main.  : 

Lord,  Lord!  methought,  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  1 
What  dreadful  noise  of  waters  in  mine  ears  1 
What  ugly  sights  of  death  within  mine  eyes ! 
Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks; 
Ten  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon; 
Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 
Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels, 
All  scattered  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea: 
Some  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls;  and,  in  those  holes 
Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  there  were  crept,  30 

As  't  were  in  scorn  of  eyes,  reflecting  gems, 
Which  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 
And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scattered  by. 

Brak.  Had  you  such  leisure  in  the  time  of  death 
To  gaze  upon  the  secrets  of  the  deep? 

Clar.   Methought  I  had:  and  often  did  I  strive 
To  yield  the  ghost:  but  still  the  envious  flood 
Kept  in  my  soul,  and  would  not  let  it  forth 
To  seek  the  empty,  vast  and  wandering  air; 
But  smotherM  it  within  my  panting  bulk,  40 

Which  almost  burst  to  belch  it  in  the  sea. 

Brak.  Awaked  you  not  with  this  sore  agony? 

Clar.  O,  no,  my  dream  was  lengthen'd  after  life; 
O,  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul, 
Who  pass'd,  methought,  the  melancholy  flood, 
With  that  grim  ferryman  which  poets  write  of, 
Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  night. 
The  first  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul, 
Was  my  great  father-in-law,  renowned  Warwick; 
Who  cried  aloud,  "  What  scourge  for  perjury  50 


]        KING   RICHARD  THE   THIRD.  41 

Can  this  dark  monarchy  afford  false  Clarence?" 

And  so  he  vanish'd:  then  came  wandering  by 

A  shadow  like  an  angel,  with  bright  hair 

Dabbled  in  blood;  and  he  squeak'd  out  aloud, 

"Clarence  is  come;  false,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence, 

That  stabb'd  me  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury: 

Seize  on  him,  Furies,  take  him  to  your  torments !" 

With  that,  methoughts,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 

Environ'd  me  about,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 

Such  hideous  cries,  that  with  the  very  noise  60 

I  trembling  waked,  and  for  a  season  after 

Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  hell, 

Such  terrible  impression  made  the  dream. 

Brak.  No  marvel,  my  lord,  though  it  affrighted  you: 
I  promise  you,  I  am  afraid  to  hear  you  tell  it. 

Clar.  O  Brakenbury,  I  have  done  those  things, 
Which  now  bear  evidence  against  my  soul, 
For  Edward's  sake:  and  see  how  he  requites  me! 

0  God !  if  my  deep  prayers  cannot  appease  thee, 

But  thou  wilt  be  avenged  on  my  misdeeds,  70 

Yet  execute  thy  wrath  in  me  alone, 

O,  spare  my  guiltless  wife  and  my  poor  children  ! 

1  pray  thee,  gentle  keeper,  stay  by  me; 
My  soul  is  heavy,  and  I  fain  would  sleep. 

Brak.  I  will,  my  lord:  God  give  your  grace  good  rest! 

[Clarence  sleeps. 

Sorrow  breaks  seasons  and  reposing  hours, 
1  Makes  the  night  morning,  and  the  noon-tide  night. 
1  Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  glories, 

An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil; 

And,  for  unfelt  imagination,  80 

They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  cares: 

So  that,  betwixt  their  titles  and  low  names, 

There 's  nothing  differs  but  the  outward  fame. 

Enter  the  two  Murderers. 

•  First  Murd.  Ho!  who's  here? 

Brak.  In  God's  name  what  are  you,  and  how  came  you 
hither? 

1  First  Murd.  I  would  speak  with  Clarence,  and  I  came 
hither  on  my  legs. 

Brak.  Yea,  are  you  so  brief? 

.'  Sec.  Murd.  O  sir,  it  is  better  to  be  brief  than  tedious.  Show 
him  our  commission;  talk  no  more.  \Brakenbury  reads  it. 
••  Brak.  I  am,  in  this,  commanded  to  deliver  92 


42  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  X. 

The  noble  Duke  of  Clarence  to  your  hands: 
I  will  not  reason  what  is  meant  hereby. 
Because  I  will  be  guiltless  of  the  meaning. 
Here  are  the  keys,  there  sits  the  duke  asleep: 
I  '11  to  the  king;  and  signify  to  him 
That  thus  I  have  resign'd  my  charge  to  you. 

First  Murd.  Do  so,  it  is  a  point  of  wisdom;  fare  you  welL 

{Exit  Brakenbury, 

Sec.  Murd.  What,  shall  we  stab  him  as  he  sleeps? 

First  Murd.  No;  then  he  will  say  'twas  done  cowardly, 
when  he  wakes. 

Sec.  Murd.  When  he  wakes  !  why,  fool,  he  shall  never  wake 
till  the  judgment-day. 

First  Murd.  Why,  then  he  will  say  we  stabbed  him  sleep- 
ing. 

Sec.  Murd.  The  urging  of  that  word  "judgment"  hath  bred 
a  kind  of  remorse  in  me.  1 10" 

First  Murd.  What,  art  thou  afraid? 

Sec.  Murd.  Not  to  kill  him,  having  a  warrant  for  it;  but  tot 
be  damned  for  killing  him,  from  which  no  warrant  can  defend 
us. 

First  Murd.   I  thought  thou  hadst  been  resolute. 

Sec.  Murd.  So  I  am,  to  let  him  live. 

First  Murd.  Back  to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  tell  him  so. 

Sec.  Murd.  I   pray  thee,  stay  a  while:   I    hope  my  holy 
humour  will  change;  'twas  wont  to  hold  me  but  while  one* 
would  tell  twenty. 

First  Murd.   How  dost  thou  feel  thyself  now? 

Sec.  Murd.  'Faith,  some  certain  dregs  of  conscience  are 
yet  within  me. 

First  Murd.  Remember  our  reward,  when  the  deed  is  done. 

Sec.  Murd.  'Zounds,  he  dies :  I  had  forgot  the  reward. 

First  Murd.  Where  is  thy  conscience  now?  130 

Sec.  Murd.   In  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  purse. 

First  Murd.  So  when  he  opens  his  purse  to  give  us  our 
reward,  thy  conscience  flies  out. 

Sec.  Murd.  Let  it  go ;  there 's  few  or  none  will  entertain  it. 

First  Murd.  How  if  it  came  to  thee  again? 

Sec.  Murd.  I  '11  not  meddle  with  it :  it  is  a  dangerous  thing: 
it  makes  a  man  a  coward :  a  man  cannot  steal,  but  it  accuseth 
him ;  he  cannot  swear,  but  it  checks  him ;  't  is  a  blushing 
shamefast  spirit  that  mutinies  in  a  man's  bosom;  it  fills  one 
full  of  obstacles :  it  made  me  once  restore  a  purse  of  gold  that 
I  found  ;  it  beggars  any  man  that  keeps  it :  it  is  turned  out  of 
all  towns  and  cities  for  a  dangerous  thing ;  and  every  man 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  43 

that  means  to  live  well  endeavours  to  trust  to  himself  and  to 
live  without  it 

First  Murd.  'Zounds,  it  is  even  now  at  my  elbow,  per- 
suading me  not  to  kill  the  duke.  1 50 

Sec.  Murd.  Take  the  devil  in  thy  mind,  and  believe  him 
not :  he  would  insinuate  with  thee  but  to  make  thee  sigh. 

First  Murd.  Tut,  I  am  strong-framed,  he  cannot  prevail 
with  me,  I  warrant  thee. 

Sec.  Murd.  Spoke  like  a  tall  fellow  that  respects  his  repu- 
tation. Come,  shall  we  to  this  gear? 

First  Murd.  Take  him  over  the  costard  with  the  hilts  of 
thy  sword,  and  then  we  will  chop  him  in  the  malmsey-butt  in 
the  next  room.  161 

Sec.  Murd.  O  excellent  device  !  make  a  sop  of  him. 

First  Murd.  Hark!  he  stirs:  shall  I  strike? 

Sec.  Murd.  No,  first  let's  reason  with  him. 

Clar.  Where  art  thou,  keeper?  give  me  a  cup  of  wine. 

Sec.  Murd.  You  shall  have  wine  enough,  my  lord,  anon. 

Clar.  In  God's  na'ae,  what  art  thou? 

Sec.  Murd.  A  man,  as  you  are.  170 

Clar.  But  not,  as  I  am,  royal. 

Sec.  Murd.  Nor  you,  as  we  are,  loyal. 

Clar.  Thy  voice  is  thunder,  but  thy  looks  are  humble. 

Sec.  Murd.    My  voice  is  now  the  king's,  my  looks  mine 
own. 

Clar.  How  darkly  and  how  deadly  dost  thou  speak ! 
Your  eyes  do  menace  me :  why  look  you  pale? 
Who  sent  you  hither?    Wherefore  do  you  come? 

Both.  To,  to,  to— 

Clar.  To  murder  me? 

Both.  Ay,  ay. 

Clar.  You  scarcely  have  the  hearts  to  tell  me  so,  180 

And  therefore  cannot  have  the  hearts  to  do  it. 
Wherein,  my  friends,  have  I  offended  you? 

First  Murd.  Offended  us  you  have  not,  but  the  king. 

Clar.  I  shall  be  reconciled  to  him  again. 

Sec.  Murd.  Never,  my  lord ;  therefore  prepare  to  die. 

Clar.  Are  you  call'd  forth  from  out  a  world  of  men 
To  slay  the  innocent?    What  is  my  offence? 
Where  are  the  evidence  that  do  accuse  me? 
What  lawful  quest  have  given  their  verdict  up 
Unto  the  frowning  judge?  or  who  pronounced  ago 

The  bitter  sentence  of  poor  Clarence'  death? 
Before  I  be  convict  by  course  of  law, 
To  threaten  me  with  death  is  most  unlawful. 


44  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I. 

I  charge  you,  as  you  hope  to  have  redemption 
By  Christ's  dear  blood  shed  for  our  grievous  sins, 
That  you  depart  and  lay  no  hands  on  me: 
The  deed  you  undertake  is  damnable. 

First  Murd.  What  we  will  do,  we  do  upon  command. 

Sec.  Murd.  And  he  that  hath  commanded  is  the  king. 

Clar.  Erroneous  vassal !  the  great  King  of  kings  200 

Hath  in  the  tables  of  his  law  commanded 
That  thou  shalt  do  no  murder  :  and  wilt  thou,  then, 
Spurn  at  his  edict  and  fulfil  a  man's? 
Take  heed ;  for  he  holds  vengeance  in  his  hands, 
To  hurl  upon  their  heads  that  break  his  law. 

Sec.  Murd.  And  that  same  vengeance  doth  he  hurl  on  thee, 
For  false  forswearing  and  for  murder  too : 
Thou  didst  receive  the  holy  sacrament, 
To  fight  in  quarrel  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

First  Murd.  And,  like  a  traitor  to  the  name  of  God,      ;rj 
Didst  break  that  vow ;  and  with  thy  treacherous  blade 
Unrip'dst  the  bowels  of  thy  sovereign's  son. 

Sec.  Murd.  Whom  thou  wert  sworn  to  cherish  and  defend. 

First  Murd.  How  canst  thou  urge  God's  dreadful  law  to 

us, 
When  thou  hast  broke  it  in  so  dear  degree? 

Clar.  Alas !  for  whose  sake  did  I  that  ill  deed  ? 
For  Edward,  for  my  brother,  for  his  sake : 
Why,  sirs, 

He  sends  ye  not  to  murder  me  for  this ; 

For  in  this  sin  he  is  as  deep  as  I.  220 

If  God  will  be  revenged  for  this  deed, 
O,  know  you  yet,  he  doth  it  publicly : 
Take  not  the  quarrel  from  his  powerful  arm ; 
He  needs  no  indirect  nor  lawless  course 
To  cut  off  those  that  have  offended  him. 

First  Murd.  Who  made  thee,  then,  a  bloouy  minister, 
When  gallant-springing  brave  Plantagenet, 
That  princely  novice,  was  struck  dead  by  thee? 

Clar.  My  brother's  love,  the  devil,  and  my  rage.  229 

First  Murd.  Thy  brother's  love,  our  duty,  and  thy  fault, 
Provoke  us  hither  now  to  slaughter  thee. 

Clar.  Oh,  if  you  love  my  brother,  hate  not  me ; 
I  am  his  brother,  and  I  love  him  well. 
If  you  be  hired  for  meed,  go  back  again, 
And  I  will  send  you  to  my  brother  Gloucester, 
Who  shall  reward  you  better  for  my  life 
Than  Edward  will  for  tidings  of  my  death. 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  45 

Sec.  Murd.  You   are   deceived,   your   brother   Gloucester 
hates  you. 

Clar.  O,  no,  he  loves  me,  and  he  holds  me  dear : 
Go  you  to  him  from  me. 

Both.  Ay,  so  we  will.  240 

Clar.  Tell  him,  when  that  our  princely  father  York 
Bless'd  his  three  sons  with  his  victorious  arm, 
And  charged  us  from  his  soul  to  love  each  other, 
He  little  thought  of  this  divided  friendship: 
Bid  Gloucester  think  of  this,  and  he  will  weep. 

First  Murd.  Ay,  millstones ;  as  he  lesson'd  us  to  weep. 

Clar.  O,  do  not  slander  him,  for  he  is  kind. 

First  Murd.  Right, 

As  snow  in  harvest.     Thou  deceivest  thyself: 
*T  is  he  that  sent  us  hither  now  to  slaughter  thee. 

Clar.  It  cannot  be;  for  when  I  parted  with  him, 
He  hugg'd  me  in  his  arms,  and  swore,  with  sobs, 
That  he  would  labour  my  delivery. 

Sec.  Murd.  Why,  so  he  doth,  now  he  delivers  thee 
From  this  world's  thraldom  to  the  joys  of  heaven. 

First  Murd.  Make  peace  with  God,  for  you  must  die,  my 
lord. 

Clar.  Hast  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  soul, 
To  counsel  me  to  make  my  peace  with  God, 
And  art  thou  yet  to  thy  own  soul  so  blind, 
That  thou  wilt  war  with  God  by  murdering  me?  260 

Ah,  sirs,  consider,  he  that  set  you  on 
To  do  this  deed  will  hate  you  for  the  deed. 

Sec.  Murd.  What  shall  we  do? 

Clar.  Relent,  and  save  your  souls. 

First  Murd.  "Relent !  't  is  cowardly  and  womanish. 

Clar.  Not  to  relent  is  beastly,  savage,  devilish. 
Which  of  you,  if  you  were  a  prince's  son, 
Being  pent  from  liberty,  as  I  am  now, 
If  two  such  murderers  as  yourselves  came  to  you, 
Would  not  entreat  for  life? 

My  friend,  1  spy  some  pity  in  thy  looks ;  270 

O,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  flatterer, 
Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  entreat  for  me, 
As  you  would  beg,  were  you  in  my  distress : 
A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not? 

Sec.  Murd.  Look  behind  you,  my  lord. 

First  Murd.  Take  that,  and  that :  if  all  this  will  not  do, 

[Stabs  him. 
I'll  drownj/ou  in  the  malmsey-butt  within.  \Exit^iViththebody. 


46  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  IL 

Sff.  Murd.  A  bloody  deed,  and  desperately  dispatch'd ! 
How  fain,  like  Pilate,  would  I  wash  my  hands 
Of  this  most  grievous  guilty  murder  done !  280 

Re-enter  First  Murderer. 

First  Murd.    How  now !    what    mean'st   thou,    that   thou 

help'st  me  not? 
By  heavens,  the  duke  shall  know  how  slack  thou  art! 

Sec.  Murd.   I  would  he  knew  that  I  had  saved  his  brother ! 
Take  thou  the  fee,  and  tell  him  what  I  say ; 
For  I  repent  me  that  the  duke  is  slain.  \Exit. 

First  Muni.  So  do  not  1 :  go,  coward  as  thou  art. 
Now  must  I  hide  his  body  in  some  hole, 
Until  the  duke  take  order  for  his  burial : 
And  when  1  have  my  meed,  1  must  away ; 
For  this  will  out,  and  here  1  must  not  stay.  290 


ACT    II. 
SCENE   I.     London.     The  palace. 

Flourish.  Enter  KING  EDWARD  sick,  QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 
DORSET,  RIVERS,  HASTINGS,  BUCKINGHAM,  GREY,  ana 
others. 

K.  Edw.'  Why,  so:  now  have  I  done  a  good  day's  work- 
You  peers,  continue  this  united  league: 
I  every  day  expect  an  embassage 
From  my  Redeemer  to  redeem  me  hence ; 
And  now  in  peace  my  soul  shall  part  to  heaven, 
Since  I  have  set  my  friends  at  peace  on  earth. 
Rivers  and  Hastings,  take  each  other's  hand ; 
Dissemble  not  vour  hatred,  swear  your  love. 

Riv.  By  heaven,  my  heart  is  purged  from  grudging  hate ; 
And  with  my  hand  I  seal  my  true  heart's  love.  ic 

Hast.  So  thrive  I,  as  I  truly  swear  the  like! 

K.  Edw.  Take  heed  you  dally  not  before  your  king ; 
Lest  he  that  is  the  supreme  King  of  kings 
Confound  your  hidden  falsehood,  and  award 
Either  of  you  to  be  the  other's  end. 

Hast.  So  prosper  1,  as  I  swear  perfect  love ! 

Riv.  And  I,  as  I  love  Hastings  with  my  heart! 

K.  Edw.   Madam,  yourself  are  not  exempt  in  this, 


Scene  x.«        KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  47 

Nor  your  son  Dorset,  Buckingham,  nor  you  ; 

You  have  been  factious  one  against  the  other.  20 

Wife,  love  Lord  Hastings,  let  him  kiss  your  hand ; 

And  what  you  do,  do  it  unfeignedly. 

Q.  Eliz.  Here,  Hastings ;  I  will  never  more  remember 
Our  former  hatred,  so  thrive  I  and  mine ! 

K.  Ediv.  Dorset,  embrace  him;  Hastings,  love  lord  mar- 
quess. 

Dor.  This  interchange  of  love,  I  here  protest, 
Upon  my  part  shall  be  unviolable. 

Hast.  And  so  swear  I,  my  lord.  [They  embrace. 

K.  Ediv.   Now,  princely  Buckingham,  seal  thou  this  league 
With  thy  embracements  to  my  wife's  allies,  30 

And  make  me  happy  in  your  unity. 

Buck.  Whenever  Buckingham  doth  turn  his  hate 
On  you  or  yours  [to  the  Queen],  but  with  all  duteous  love 
Doth  cherish  you  and  yours,  God  punish  me 
With  hate  in  those  where  I  expect  most  love ! 
When  I  have  most  need  to  employ  a  friend, 
And  most  assured  that  he  is  a  friend, 
Deep,  hollow,  treacherous,  and  full  of  guile, 
Be  he  unto  me !  this  do  I  beg  of  God, 

When  I  am  cold  in  zeal  to  you  or  yours.  40 

[They  embrace. 

K.  Edw.  A  pleasing  cordial,  princely  Buckingham, 
Is  this  thy  vow  unto  my  sickly  heart. 
There  wanteth  now  our  brother  Gloucester  here, 
To  make  the  perfect  period  of  this  peace. 

Buck.  And,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  nob'e  duke. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER. 

Glou.  Good  morrow  to  my  sovereign  king  and  queen; 
And,  princely  peers,  a  happy  time  of  day ! 

K.  Edw.  Happy,  indeed,  as  we  have  spent  the  day. 
Brother,  we  have  done  deeds  of  charity ; 
Made  peace  of  enmity,  fair  love  of  hate,  50 

Between  these  swelling  wrong-incensed  peers. 

Glou.  A  blessed  labour,  my  most  sovereign  liege : 
Amongst  this  princely  heap,  if  any  here, 
By  false  intelligence,  or  wrong  surmise 
Hold  me  a  foe; 

If  I  unwittingly,  or  in  my  rage, 
Have  aught  committed  that  is  hardly  borne 
By  any  in  this  presence,  I  desire 
To  reconcile  me  to  his  friendly  peace : 


48  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  II. 

Tis  death  to  me  to  be  at  enmity;  60 

I  hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men's  love. 

First,  madam,  I  entreat  true  peace  of  you, 

Which  I  will  purchase  with  my  duteous  service; 

Of  you,  my  noble  cousin  Buckingham, 

If  ever  any  grudge  were  lodged  between  us; 

Of  you,  Lord  Rivers,  and,  Lord  Grey,  of  you  ; 

That  all  without  desert  have  frown'd  on  me ; 

Dukes,  earls,  lords,  gentlemen;  indeed,  of  all. 

I  do  not  know  that  Englishman  alive 

With  whom  my  soul  is  any  jot  at  odds  70 

More  than  the  infant  that  is  born  to-night : 

I  thank  my  God  for  my  humility. 

Q.  Eliz.  A  holy  day  shall  this  be  kept  hereafter.- 
I  would  to  God  all  strifes  were  well  compounded. 
My  sovereign  liege,  I  do  beseech  your  majesty 
To  take  our  brother  Clarence  to  your  grace. 

Clou.  Why,  madam,  have  I  offer'd  love  for  this, 
To  be  so  flouted  in  this  royal  presence? 

Who  knows  not  that  the  noble  duke  is  dead?  \They  all  start. 
You- do  him  injury  to  scorn  his  corse.  80 

Riv.  Who  knows  not  he  is  dead!  who  knows  he  is? 

Q.  Eliz.  All-seeing  heaven,  what  a  world  is  this ! 

Buck.   Look  I  so  pale.  Lord  Dorset,  as  the  rest? 

Dor.  Ay,  my  good  lord ;  and  no  one  in  this  presence 
But  his  red  colour  hath  forsook  his  cheeks. 

K.  Ediu.   Is  Clarence  dead?  the  order  was  reversed. 

Glou.   But  he,  poor  soul,  by  your  first  order  died, 
And  that  a  winged  Mercury  did  bear ; 
Some  tardy  cripple  bore  the  countermand, 
That  came  too  lag  to  see  him  buried  90 

God  grant  that  some,  less  noble  and  less  loyal, 
Nearer  in  bloody  thoughts,  but  not  in  blood, 
Deserve  not  worse  than  wretched  Clarence  did, 
And  yet  go  current  from  suspicion  ! 

Enter  DERBY. 

Der.  A  boon,  my  sovereign,  for  my  service  done ! 

K.  Edw.   I  pray  thee,  peace :  my  soul  is  full  of  sorrow. 

Der.  I  will  not  rise,  unless  your  highness  grant 

K.  Edw.  Then  speak  at  once  what  is  it  thou  demand's!. 

Der.  The  forfeit,  sovereign,  of  my  servant's  life  ; 
Who  slew  to-day  a  riotous  gentleman  100 

Lately  attendant  on  the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

K.  Edw.  Have  I  a  tongue  to  doom  my  brother's  death, 


Scene  i.]         KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  49 

And  shall  the  same  give  pardon  to  a  slave? 
My  brother  slew  no  man;  his  fault  was  thought, 
And  yet  his  punishment  was  cruel  death. 
Who  sued  to  me  for  him?  who,  in  my  rage, 
Kneel'd  at  my  feet,  and  bade  me  be  advised? 
Who  spake  of  brotherhood?  who  spake  of  love? 
Who  told  me  how  the  poor  soul  did  forsake 
The  mighty  Warwick,  and  did  fight  for  me?  no 

Who  told  me,  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury, 
When  Oxford  had  me  down,  he  rescued  me, 
And  said,  '  Dear  brother,  live,  and  be  a  king'? 
Who  told  me,  when  we  both  lay  in  the  field 
Frozen  almost  to  death,  how  he  did  lap  me 
Even  in  his  own  garments,  and  gave  himself, 
All  thin  and  naked,  to  the  numb  cold  night? 
All  this  from  my  remembrance  brutish  wrath 
Sinfully  pluck'd,  and  not  a  man  of  you 

Had  so  much  grace  to  put  it  in  my  mind.  12O 

But  when  your  carters  or  your  waiting-vassals 
Have  done  a  drunken  slaughter,  and  defaced 
The  precious  image  of  our  dear  Redeemer, 
You  straight  are  on  your  knees  for  pardon,  pardon ; 
And  I,  unjustly  too,  must  grant  it  you: 
But  for  my  brother  not  a  man  would  speak, 
Nor  I,  ungracious,  speak  unto  myself 
For  him,  poor  soul.     The  proudest  of  you  all 
Have  been  beholding  to  him  in  his  life ; 

Yet  none  of  you  would  once  plead  for  his  life.  130 

O  God,  I  fear  thy  justice  will  take  hold 
On  me,  and  you.  and  mine,  and  yours  for  this ! 
Come,  Hastings,  help  me  to  my  closet.     Oh,  poor  Clarence  ! 
[Exeunt  some  with  King  and  Queen. 

Glou.  This  is  the  fruit  of  rashness  !     Mark'd  you  not 
How  that  the  guilty  kindred  of  the  queen 
Look'd  pale  when  they  did  hear  of  Clarence'  death? 
O,  they  did  urge  it  still  unto  the  king ! 
God  will  revenge  it.     But  come,  let  us  in, 
To  comfort  Edward  with  our  company. 

Buck.  We  wait  upon  your  grace.  [Exeunt. 


(  M  233  > 


y>  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  II. 

SCENE  II.     The  palace. 

Enter  the  DUCHESS  OF  YORK,  with  the  two  children  of 
CLARENCE. 

Boy.  Tell  me,  good  grandam,  is  our  father  dead? 

Duch.  No,  boy. 

Boy.  Why  do  you  wring  your  hands,  and  beat  your  breast 
And  cry  '  O  Clarence,  my  unhappy  son  !' 

Girl.  Why  do  you  look  on  us,  and  shake  your  head, 
And  call  us  wretches,  orphans,  castaways, 
If  that  our  noble  father  be  alive? 

Duch.  My  pretty  cousins,  you  mistake  me  much  ; 
I  do  lament  the  sickness  of  the  king, 

As  loath  to  lose  him,  not  your  fathers  death ;  10 

It  were  lost  sorrow  to  wail  one  that 's  lost. 

Boy.  Then,  grandam,  you  conclude  that  he  is  dead. 
The  king  my  uncle  is  to  blame  for  this : 
God  will  revenge  it ;  whom  I  will  imptfrtune 
With  daily  prayers,  all  to  that  effect. 

Girl.  And  so  will  I. 

Duch.  Peace,  children,  peace !  the  king  doth  love  you  well: 
Incapable  and  shallow  innocents, 
You  cannot  guess  who  caused  your  father's  death. 

Boy.  Grandam,  we  can  ;  for  my  good  uncle  Gloucester  20 
Told  me,  the  king,  provoked  by  the  queen, 
Devised  impeachments  to  imprison  him : 
And  when  my  uncle  told  me  so,  he  wept, 
And  hugg'd  me  in  his  arm,  and  kindly  kiss'd  my  cheek ; 
Bade  me  rely  on  him  as  on  my  father, 
And  he  would  love  me  dearly  as  his  child. 

Duch.  Oh,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle  shapes, 
And  with  a  virtuous  vizard  hide  foul  guile! 
He  is  my  son ;  yea,  and  therein  my  shame ; 
Yet  from  my  dugs  he  drew  not  this  deceit.  30 

Boy.  Think  you  my  uncle  did  dissemble,  grandam? 

Duch.  Ay,  boy. 

Boy.  I  cannot  think  it.     Hark!  what  noise  is  this? 

Enter  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  with  her  hair  about  her  ears 
RIVERS  and  DORSET  after  her. 

Q.  Eliz.  Oh,  who  shall  hinder  me  to  wail  and  weep, 
To  chide  my  fortune,  and  torment  myself? 
I  "11  join  with  black  despair  against  my  soul, 
And  to  myself  become  an  enemy. 


Scene  2.]        KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  51 

Duck.  What  means  this  scene  of  rude  impatience? 

Q.  Eliz.  To  make  an  act  of  tragic  violence : 
Edward,  my  lord,  your  son,  our  king,  is  dead.  40 

Why  grow  the  branches  now  the  root  is  wither'd? 
Why  wither  not  the  leaves,  the  sap  being  gone  ? 
If  you  will  live,  lament ;  if  die,  be  brief. 
That  our  swift-winged  souls  may  catch  the  king's ; 
Or,  like  obedient  subjects,  follow  him 
To  his  new  kingdom  of  perpetual  rest. 

Duch.  Ah,  so  much  interest  have  I  in  thy  sorrow 
As  I  had  title  in  thy  noble  husband ! 
I  have  bewept  a  worthy  husband's  death, 
And  lived  by  looking  on  his  images :  50 

But  now  two  mirrors  of  his  princely  semblance 
Are  crack'd  in  pieces  by  malignant  death, 
And  I  for  comfort  have  but  one  false  glass, 
Which  grieves  me  when  I  see  my  shame  in  him. 
Thou  art  a  widow ;  yet  thou  art  a  mother, 
And  hast  the  comfort  of  thy  children  left  thee: 
But  death  hath  snatch'd  my  husband  from  mine  arms, 
And  pkick'd  two  crutches  from  my  feeble  limbs, 
Edward  and  Clarence.     O,  what  cause  have  I, 
Thine  being  but  a  moiety  of  my  grief,  60 

To  overgo  thy  plaints  and  drown  thy  cries ! 

Boy.  Good  aunt,  you  wept  not  for  our  father's  death ; 
How  can  we  aid  you  with  our  kindred  tears? 

Girl.  Our  fatherless  distress  was  left  unmoan'd; 
Your  widow-dolour  likewise  be  unwept ! 

Q.  Eliz.  Give  me  no  help  in  lamentation ; 
I  am  not  barren  to  bring  forth  complaints : 
All  springs  reduce  their  currents  to  mine  eyes, 
That  I,  being  govern'd  by  the  watery  moon, 
May  send  forth  plenteous  tears  to  drown  the  world !  70 

Oh  for  my  husband,  for  my  dear  lord  Edward  ! 

Chil.  Oh  for  our  father,  for  our  dear  lord  Clarence ! 

Duch.  Alas  for  both,  both  mine,  Edward  and  Clarence  I 

Q.  Eliz.  What  stay  had  I  but  Edward?  and  he's  gone. 

Chil.  What  stay  had  we  but  Clarence?  and  he's  gone. 

Duch.  What  stays  had  I  but  they?  and  they  are  gone. 

Q.  Eliz.  Was  never  widow  had  so  dear  a  loss ! 

Chil.  Were  never  orphans  had  so  dear  a  loss  1 

Duch.  Was  never  mother  had  so  dear  a  loss  1 
Alas,  I  am  the  mother  of  these  moans !  80 

Their  woes  are  parcelFd,  mine  are  general. 
She  for  an  Edward  weeps,  and  so  do  I ; 


52  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  II. 

I  for  a  Clarence  weep,  so  doth  not  she : 
These  babes  for  Clarence  weep,  and  so  do  I ; 
I  for  an  Edward  weep,  so  do  not  they: 
Alas,  you  three,  on  me,  threefold  distress'd, 
Pour  all  your  tears!  I  am  your  sorrow's  nurse, 
And  1  will  pamper  it  with  lamentations. 

Dor.  Comfort,  dear  mother:  God  is  much  displeased 
That  you  take  with  unthankfulness  his  doing:  90 

In  common  worldly  things,  't  is  call'd  ungrateful, 
With  dull  unwillingness  to  repay  a  debt 
Which  with  a  bounteous  hand  was  kindly  lent ; 
Much  more  to  be  thus  opposite  with  heaven, 
For  it  requires  the  royal  debt  it  lent  you. 

Riv.   Madam,  bethink  you.  like  a  careful  mother, 
Of  the  young  prince  your  son :  send  straight  for  him  ; 
Let  him  be  crown'd ;  in  him  your  comfort  lives: 
Drown  desperate  sorrow  in  dead  Edward's  grave, 
And  plant  your  joys  in  living  Edward's  throne.  100 

Enter  GLOUCESTER,  BUCKINGHAM,  DERBY,  HASTINGS, 
and  RATCLIFF. 

Glau.  Madam,  have  comfort:  all  of  us  have  cause 
To  wail  the  dimming  of  our  shining  star; 
But  none  can  cure  their  harms  by  wailing  them. 
Madam,  my  mother,  I  do  cry  you  mercy ; 
I  did  not  see  your  grace :  humbly  on  my  knee 
I  crave  your  blessing. 

Duch.  God  bless  thee ;  and  put  meekness  in  thy  mind, 
Love,  charity,  obedience,  and  true  duty! 

Glou.  [Aside.]  Amen ;  and  make  me  die  a  good  old  man  I 
That  is  the  butt-end  of  a  mother's  blessing :  1 10 

I  marvel  why  her  grace  did  leave  it  out. 

Buck.  You  cloudy  princes  and  heart-sorrowing  peers 
That  bear  this  mutual  heavy  load  of  moan, 
Now  cheer  each  other  in  each  other's  love: 
Though  we  have  spent  our  harvest  of  this  king, 
We  are  to  reap  the  harvest  of  his  son. 
The  broken  rancour  of  your  high-swoln  hearts. 
But  lately  splinter'd,  knit,  and  join'd  together, 
Must  gently  be  preserved,  cherish'd,  and  kept : 
Me  seemeth  good,  that,  with  some  little  train,  120 

Forthwith  from  Ludlow  the  young  prince  be  fetch'd 
Hither  to  London,  to  be  crown'd  our  king. 

Riv.  Why  with  some  little  train,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham? 


Scenes-]        KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  53 

Buck.   Marry,  my  lord,  lest,  by  a  multitude, 
The  new-heal'd  wound  of  malice  should  break  out; 
Which  would  be  so  much  the  more  dangerous, 
By  how  much  the  estate  is  green  and  yet  ungovern'd : 
Where  every  horse  bears  his  commanding  rein, 
And  may  direct  his  course  as  please  himself, 
As  well  the  fear  of  harm,  as  harm  apparent,  130 

In  my  opinion,  ought  to  be  prevented. 

Glou.  I  hope  the  king  made  peace  with  all  of  us ; 
And  the  compdct  is  firm  and  true  in  me. 

Riv,  And  so  in  me ;  and  so,  I  think,  in  all : 
Yet,  since  it  is  but  green,  it  should  be  put 
To  no  apparent  likelihood  of  breach, 
Which  haply  by  much  company  might  be  urged : 
Therefore  I  say  with  noble  Buckingham, 
That  it  is  meet  so  few  should  fetch  the  prince. 

Hast.  And  so  say  I.  14° 

Glou.  Then  be  it  so ;  and  go  we  to  determine 
Who  they  shall  be  that  straight  shall  post  to  Ludlow. 
Madam,  and  you,  rny  mother,  will  you  go 
To  give  your  censures  in  this  weighty  business? 

Q.  Eliz.  )  wi  h  all  Qur  hearts 

Duck.      \ 

[Exeunt  all  but  Buckingham  and  Gloucester. 

Buck.  My  Lord,  whoever  journeys  to  the  prince, 
For  God's  sake,  let  not  us  two  be  behind ; 
For,  by  the  way,  I'll  sort  occasion, 
As  index  to  the  story  we  late  talk'd  of, 
To  part  the  queen's  proud  kindred  from  the  king.  1 50 

Glou.  My  other  self,  my  counsel's  cdnsistory, 
My  oracle,  my  prophet !     My  dear  cousin, 
I,  like  a  child,  will  go  by  thy  direction. 
Towards  Ludlow  then,  for  we  '11  not  stay  behind.       [Exeunt. 


SCENE  III.     London.     A  street. 

Enter  two  Citizens,  meeting. 

First  Cit.  Neighbour,  well  met:  whither  away  so  fast? 
Sec.  Cit.  I  promise  you,  I  scarcely  know  myself: 
Hear  you  the  news  abroad? 

First  Cit.  Ay,  that  the  king  is  dead. 

Sec.  Cit.  Bad  news,  by'r  lady;  seldom  comes  the  better: 
fear,  I  fear  't  will  prove  a  troublous  world. 


54  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  [Act  II. 

Enter  another  Citizen. 

Third  Cit.  Neighbours,  God  speed ! 

First  Cit.  Give  you  good  morrow,  sir. 

Third  Cit.  Doth  this  news  hold  of  good  King  Edward's 
death? 

Sec.  Cit.  Ay,  sir,  it  is  too  true ;  God  help  the  while ! 

Third  Cit.  Then,  masters,  look  to  see  a  troublous  world. 

First  Cit.  No,   no;   by  God's  good   grace  his  son  shall 
reign.  10 

Third  Cit.  Woe  to  that  land  that 's  govern'd  by  a  child ! 

Sec.  Cit.  In  him  there  is  a  hope  of  government, 
That  in  his  nonage  council  under  him, 
And  in  his  full  and  ripen'd  years  himself, 
No  doubt,  shall  then  and  till  then  govern  well. 

First  Cit.  So  stood  the  state  when  Henry  the  Sixth 
Was  crown'd  in  Paris  but  at  nine  months  old. 

Third  Cit.  Stood  the  state  so?     No,  no,  good  friends,  God 

wot ; 

For  then  this  land  was  famously  enrich'd 
With  politic  grave  counsel ;  then  the  king  20 

Had  virtuous  uncles  to  protect  his  grace. 

First  Cit.  Why,  so  hath  this,  both  by  the  father  and  mother. 

Third  Cit.   Better  it  were  they  all  came  by  the  father, 
Or  by  the  father  there  were  none  at  all ; 
For  emulation  now,  who  shall  be  nearest, 
Will  touch  us  all  too  near,  if  God  prevent  not. 
O,  full  of  danger  is  the  Duke  of  Gloucester ! 
And  the  queen's  sons  and  brothers  haught  and  proud : 
And  were  they  to  be  ruled,  and  not  to  rule, 
This  sickly  land  might  solace  as  before.  30 

First  Cit.  Come,  come,  we  fear  the  worst ;  all  shall  be  well. 

Third  Cit.   When  clouds  appear,  wise  men  put  on  their 

cloaks : 

When  great  leaves  fall,  the  winter  is  at  hand  ; 
When  the  sun  sets,  who  doth  not  look  for  night? 
Untimely  storms  make  men  expect  a  dearth. 
All  may  be  well ;  but,  if  God  sort  it  so, 
T  is  more  than  we  deserve,  or  I  expect. 

Sec.  Cit.  Truly,  the  souls  of  men  are  full  of  dread : 
Ye  cannot  reason  almost  with  a  man 
That  looks  not  heavily  and  full  of  fear.  40 

Third  Cit.   Before  the  times  of  change,  still  is  it  so: 
By  a  divine  instinct  men's  minds  mistrust 
Ensuing  dangers;  as,  by  proof,  we  see 


Scenes]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  55 

The  waters  swell  before  a  boisterous  storm. 
But  leave  it  all  to  God.     Whither  away? 

Sec.  Cit.  Marry,  we  were  sent  for  to  the  justices. 

Third  Cit.  And  so  was  I :  I  '11  bear  you  company. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     London.     The  palace. 

Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP  OF  YORK,  the  young  DUKE  OF  YORK, 
QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  and  the  DUCHESS  OF  YORK. 

Arch.  Last  night,  I  hear,  they  lay  at  Northampton ; 
At  Stony-Stratford  will  they  be  to-night : 
To-morrow,  or  next  day,  they  will  be  here. 

Duck.  I  long  with  all  my  heart  to  see  the  prince : 
I  hope  he  is  much  grown  since  last  I  saw  him. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  I  hear,  no ;  they  say  my  son  of  York 
Hath  almost  overta'en  him  in  his  growth. 

York.  Ay,  mother ;  but  I  would  not  have  it  so. 

Duck.  Why,  my  young  cousin,  it  is  good  to  grow. 

York.  Grandam,  one  night,  as  we  did  sit  at  supper,          10 
My  uncle  Rivers  talk'd  how  I  did  grow 
More  than  my  brother:  'Ay,'  quoth  my  uncle  Gloucester, 
'Small  herbs  have  grace,  great  weeds  do  grow  apace' ; 
And  since,  methinks,  I  would  not  grow  so  fast, 
Because  sweet  flowers  are  slow  and  weeds  make  haste. 

Duck.  Good  faith,  good  faith,  the  saying  did  not  hold 
In  him  that  did  object  the  same  to  thee : 
He  was  the  wretched'st  thing  when  he  was  young, 
So  long  a-growing  and  so  leisurely, 
That,  if  this  rule  were  true,  he  should  be  gracious.  20 

Arch.  Why,  madam,  so,  no  doubt,  he  is. 

Duck.  I  hope  he  is ;  but  yet  let  mothers  doubt. 

York.  Now,  by  my  troth,  if  I  had  been  remember'd, 
I  could  have  given  my  uncle's  grace  a  flout, 
To  touch  his  growth  nearer  than  he  touch'd  mine. 

Duck.  How,  my  pretty  York  ?     I  pray  thee,  let  me  hear  it. 

York.  Marry,  they  say  my  uncle  grew  so  fast 
That  he  could  gnaw  a  crust  at  two  hours  old : 
T  was  full  two  years  ere  I  could  get  a  tooth. 
Grandam,  this  would  have  been  a  biting  jest.  30 

Duck.  I  pray  thee,  pretty  York,  who  told  thee  this? 

York.  Grandam,  his  nurse. 

Duck.  His  nurse!  why,  she  was  dead  ere  thou  wert  born. 
York.  If 't  were  not  she,  I  cannot  tell  who  told  me. 

Q.  Eliz.  A  parlous  boy :  go  to,  you  are  too  shrewd. 


56  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  II.  80.4. 

Arch.  C.ood  madam,  be  not  angry  with  the  child. 
Q.  Eliz.  Pitchers  have  ears. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Arch.  Here  comes  a  messenger.     What  news? 

Mess.  Such  news,  my  lord,  as  grieves  me  to  unfold. 

Q.  Eliz.  How  fares  the  prince? 

Mess.  Well,  madam,  and  in  health 

Duch.  What  is  thy  news  then?  41 

Mess.  Lord  Rivers  and  Lord  (irey  are  sent  to  Pomfret, 
With  them  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  prisoners  ; 

Duch.  Who  hath  committed  them  ? 

Mess.  The  mighty  dukes 

Gloucester  and  Buckingham. 

Q.  Eliz.  For  what  offence? 

Mess.  The  sum  of  all  I  can,  I  have  disclosed ; 
Why  or  for  what  these  nobles  were  committed 
Is  all  unknown  to  me,  my  gracious  lady. 

Q.  Eliz.  Ay  me,  I  see  the  downfall  of  our  house  ! 
The  tiger  now  hath  seized  the  gentle  hind ;  50 

Insulting  tyranny  begins  to  jet 
Upon  the  innocent  and  aweless  throne: 
Welcome,  destruction,  death,  and  massacre! 
I  see,  as  in  a  map,  the  end  of  all. 

Duch.  Accursed  and  unquiet  wrangling  days, 
How  many  of  you  have  mine  eyes  beheld! 
My  husband  lost  his  life  to  get  the  crown ; 
And  often  up  and  down  my  sons  were  toss'd, 
For  me  to  joy  and  weep  their  gain  and  loss : 
And  being  seated,  and  domestic  broils  60 

Clean  over-blown,  themselves,  the  conquerors, 
Make  war  upon  themselves;  blood  against  blood, 
Self  against  self:  O,  preposterous 
And  frantic  outrage,  end  thy  damned  spleen ; 
Or  let  me  die,  to  look  on  death  no  more ! 

Q.  Eliz.  Come,  come,  my  boy ;  we  will  to  sanctuary. 
Madam,  farewell. 

Duch.  I  '11  go  along  with  you. 

Q.  Eliz.  You  have  no  cause. 

Arch.  My  gracious  lady,  go ; 

And  thither  bear  your  treasure  and  your  goods. 
For  my  part,  I  '11  resign  unto  your  grace  70 

The  seal  I  keep :  and  so  betide  to  me 
As  well  I  tender  you  and  all  of  yours! 
Come,  I  "11  conduct  you  to  the  sanctuary.  [Exeunt. 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.]  KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  57 

ACT    III. 
SCENE  I.     London.     A  street. 

The  trumpets  sound.  Enter  the  young  PRINCE,  the  Dukes  o/ 
GLOUCESTER  and  BUCKINGHAM,  CARDINAL  BOUR- 
CHIER,  CATESBY,  and  others. 

Buck.  Welcome,  sweet  prince,  to  London,  to  your  chamber. 

Clou.  Welcome,  dear  cousin,  my  thoughts'  sovereign : 
The  weary  way  hath  made  you  melancholy. 

Prince.  No,  uncle  ;  but  our  crosses  on  the  way 
Have  made  it  tedious,  wearisome,  and  heavy: 
I  want  more  uncles  here  to  welcome  me. 

Glou.  Sweet  prince,  the  untainted  virtue  of  your  years 
Hath  not  yet  dived  into  the  world's  deceit : 
Nor  more  can  you  distinguish  of  a  man 

Than  of  his  outward  show;  which,  God  he  knows,  10 

Seldom  or  never  jumpeth  with  the  heart. 
Those  uncles  which  you  want  were  dangerous ; 
Your  grace  attended  to  their  sugar'd  words, 
But  look'd  not  on  the  poison  of  their  hearts  : 
God  keep  you  from  them,  and  from  such  false  friends ! 

Prince,  God  keep  me  from  false  friends!  but  they  were 
none. 

'  Glou.  My  lord,  the  mayor  of  London  comes  to  greet  you. 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  his  train. 

May.  God  bless  your  grace  with  health  and  happy  days ! 

Prince.  I  thank  you,  good  my  lord ;  and  thank  you  all. 
I  thought  my  mother,  and  my  brother  York,  20 

Would  long  ere  this  have  met  us  on  the  way : 
Fie,  what  a  slug  is  Hastings,  that  he  comes  not 
To  tell  us  whether  they  will  come  or  no ! 

Enter  LORD  HASTINGS. 

Buck.  And,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  sweating  lord. 

Prince.  Welcome,  my  lord :  what,  will  our  mother  come? 

Hast.  On  what  occasion,  God  he  knows,  not  I, 
The  queen  your  mother,  and  your  brother  York, 
Have  taken  sanctuary :  the  tender  prince 
Would  fain  have  come  with  me  to  meet  your  grace, 
But  by  his  mother  was  perforce  withheld.  30 

Buck.  Fie,  what  an  indirect  and  peevish  course 
Is  this  of  hers  !     Lord  cardinal,  will  your  grace 


5«  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

Persuade  the  queen  to  send  the  Uuke  of  York 
Unto  his  princely  brother  presently? 
If  she  deny,  Lord  Hastings,  go  with  him, 
And  from  her  jealous  arms  pluck  him  perforce. 

Card.  My  Lord  of  Buckingham,  if  my  weak  oratory 
Can  from  his  mother  win  the  Duke- of  York, 
Anon  expect  him  here  ;  but  if  she  be  obdurate 
To  mild  entreaties,  God  in  heaven  forbid  40 

We  should  infringe  the  holy  privilege 
Of  blessed  sanctuary!  not  for  all  this  land 
Would  I  be  guilty  of  so  deep  a  sin. 

Buck.  You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,  my  lord, 
Too  ceremonious  and  traditional : 
Weigh  it  but  with  the  grossness  of  this  age, 
You  break  not  sanctuary  in  seizing  him. 
The  benefit  thereof  is  always  granted 
To  those  whose  dealings  have  deserved  the  place, 
And  those  who  have  the  wit  to  claim  the  place :  50 

This  prince  hath  neither  claim'd  it  nor  deserved  it ; 
And  therefore,  in  mine  opinion,  cannot  have  it : 
Then,  taking  him  from  thence  that  is  not  there, 
You  break  no  privilege  nor  charter  there. 
Oft  have  I  heard  of  sanctuary  men; 
But  sanctuary  children  ne'er  till  now. 

Card.  My  lord,  you  shall  o'er-rule  my  mind  for  once. 
Come  on,  Lord  Hastings,  will  you  go  with  me? 

Hast.  I  go,  my  lord. 

Prince.  Good  lords,  make  all  the  speedy  haste  you  may. 

[Exeunt  Cardinal  and  Hasting*. 

Say,  uncle  Gloucester,  if  our  brother  come,  61 

Where  shall  we  sojourn  till  our  coronation? 

Glou.  Where  it  seems  best  unto  your  royal  self. 
If  I  may  counsel  you,  some  day  or  two 
Your  highness  shall  repose  you  at  the  Tower : 
Then  where  you  please,  and  shall  be  thought  most  fit 
For  your  best  health  and  recreation. 

Prince.  I  do  not  like  the  Tower,  of  any  place. 
Did  Julius  Caesar  build  that  place,  my  lord? 

Buck.  He  did,  my  gracious  lord,  begin  that  place;  7^ 

Which,  since,  succeeding  ages  have  re-edified. 

Prince.   Is  it  upon  recdrd,  or  else  reported 
Successively  from  age  to  age,  he  built  it? 

Buck.  Upon  rccdrd,  my  gracious  lord. 

Prince.  But  say,  my  lord,  it  were  not  register'd, 
Methinks  the  truth  should  live  from  age  to  age, 


Scene  i.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  59 

As  't  were  retail'd  to  all  posterity, 
j    Even  to  the  general  all-ending  day. 

Glou.  \Aside\  So  wise  so  young,  they  say,  do  never  live 
long. 

Prince.  What  say  you,  uncle?  80 

Glou.   I  say,  without  characters,  fame  lives  long. 
[Aside]  Thus,  like  the  formal  vice,  Iniquity, 
I  moralize  two  meanings  in  one  word. 

Prince.  That  Julius  Caesar  was  a  famous  man ; 
With  what  his  valour  did  enrich  his  wit, 
His  wit  set  down  to  make  his  valour  live  : 
Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror; 
For  now  he  lives  in  fame,  though  not  in  life. 
I  '11  tell  you  what,  my  cousin  Buckingham, — 

Buck.  What,  my  gracious  lord?  90 

Prince.  An  if  I  live  until  I  be  a  man, 
I  '11  win  our  ancient  right  in  France  again, 
Or  die  a  soldier,  as  I  lived  a  king. 

Glou.    [Aside]    Short    summers    lightly    have    a    forward 
spring. 

Enter  young  YORK,  HASTINGS,  and  the  CARDINAL. 

Buck.  Now,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  Duke  of  York. 
H  Prince.  Richard  of  York!  how  fares  our  loving  brother? 

York.  Well,  my  dread  lord ;  so. must  I  call  you  now. 

Prince.  Ay,  brother,  to  our  grief,  as  it  is  yours : 
Too  late  he  died  that  might  have  kept  that  title, 
Which  by  his  death  hath  lost  much  majesty.  100 

Glou.  How  fares  our  cousin,  noble  lord  of  York? 

York.  I  thank  you,  gentle  uncle.     O,  my  lord, 
You  said  that  idle  weeds  are  fast  in  growth : 
The  prince  my  brother  hath  outgrown  me  far. 

Glou.  He  hath,  my  lord. 

I   York.  And  therefore  is  he  idle? 

'  Glou.  O,  my  fair  cousin,  I  must  not  say  so. 

York.  Then  is  he  more  beholding  to  you  than  I. 

Glou.  He  may  command  me  as  my  sovereign : 
But  you  have  power  in  me  as  in  a  kinsman. 

York.  I  pray  you,  uncle,  give  me  this  dagger.  1 10 

Glou.  My  dagger,  little  cousin  ?  with  all  my  heart. 

Prince.  A  beggar,  brother? 

York.  Of  my  kind  uncle,  that  I  know  will  give ; 
And  being  but  a  toy,  which  is  no  grief  to  give. 

Glou.  A  greater  gift  than  that  I  '11  give  my  cousin. 

York.  A  greater  gift !  O,  that 's  the  sword  to  it. 


60  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

Glou.  Ay,  gentle  cousin,  were  it  light  enough. 

York.  O,  then,  I  see,  you  will  part  but  with  light  gifts ; 
In  weightier  things  you'll  say  a  beggar  nay. 

Glou.   It  is  too  heavy  for  your  grace  to  wear.  120 

York.   I  weigh  it  lightly,  were  it  heavier. 

Glou.  What,  would  you  have  my  weapon,  little  lord? 

York.  I  would,  that  I  might  thank  you  as  you  call  me. 

Glou.   How? 

York.  Little. 

Prince.   My  Lord  of  York  will  still  be  cross  in  talk  : 
Uncle,  your  grace  knows  how  to  bear  with  him. 

York.  You  mean,  to  bear  me,  not  to  bear  with  me : 
Uncle,  my  brother  mocks  both  you  and  me ; 
Because  that  I  am  little,  like  an  ape,  1 30 

He  thinks  that  you  should  bear  me  on  your  shoulders. 

Buck.  With  what  a  sharp-provided  wit  he  reasons ! 
To  mitigate  the  scorn  he  gives  his  uncle, 
He  prettily  and  aptly  taunts  himself: 
So  cunning  and  so  young  is  wonderful. 

Glou.   My  lord,  will't  please  you  pass  along? 
Myself  and  my  good  cousin  Buckingham 
Will  to  your  mother,  to  entreat  of  her 
To  meet  you  at  the  Tower  and  welcome  you. 

York.  What,  will  you  go  unto  the  Tower,  my  lord?        140 

Prince.  My  lord  protector  needs  will  have  it  so. 

York.  I  shall  not  sleep  in  quiet  at  the  Tower. 

Glou.  Why,  what  should  you  fear? 

York.   Marry,  my  uncle  Clarence1  angry  ghost: 
My  grandam  told  me  he  was  murderd  there. 

Prince.  I  fear  no  uncles  dead. 

Glou.  Nor  none  that  live,  I  hope. 

Prince.  An  if  they  live,  I  hope  I  need  not  fear. 

But  come,  my  lord ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart, 

Thinking  on  them,  go  I  unto  the  Tower.  1 50 

\A  Sennet,     Exeunt  all  but  Gloucester,  Buckingham 

and  Cattst 

Buck.  Think  you,  my  lord,  this  little  prating  York 
Was  not  incensed  by  his  subtle  mother 
To  taunt  and  scorn  you  thus  opprobriously? 

Glou.  No  doubt,  no  doubt :  O,  't  is  a  parlous  boy  ; 
Bold,  quick,  ingenious,  forward,  capable : 
He  is  all  the  mother's,  from  the  top  to  toe. 

Buck.  Well,  let  them  rest.     Come  hither,  Catesby. 
Thou  art  sworn  as  deeply  to  effect  what  we  intend 
As  closely  to  conceal  what  we  impart : 


Scene  i.j        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  6f 

Thou  know'st  our  reasons  urged  upon  the  way;  160 

What  think'st  thou?  is  it  not  an  easy  matter 
To  make  William  Lord  Hastings  of  our  mind, 
For  the  instalment  of  this  noble  duke 
In  the  seat  royal  of  this  famous  isle? 

Cate.  He  for  his  father's  sake  so  loves  the  prince, 
That  he  will  not  be  won  to  aught  against  him. 

Buck.  What  think'st  thou,  then,  of  Stanley?  what  will  he? 

Cate.  He  will  do  all  in  all  as  Hastings  doth. 

Buck.  Well,  then,  no  more  but  this :  go,  gentle  Catesby, 
And,  as  it  were  far  off,  sound  thou  Lord  Hastings,  170 

How  he  doth  stand  affected  to  our  purpose ; 
And  summon  him  to-morrow  to  the  Tower, 
To  sit  about  the  coronation. 
If  thou  dost  find  him  tractable  to  us, 
Encourage  him  and  show  him  all  our  reasons : 
If  he  be  leaden,  icy-cold,  unwilling, 
Be  thou  so  too ;  and  so  break  off  your  talk, 
And  give  us  notice  of  his  inclination  : 
For  we  to-morrow  hold  divided  councils, 
Wherein  thyself  shalt  highly  be  employ'd.  i8c 

Glou.  Commend  me  to  Lord  William :  tell  him,  Catesby, 
His  ancient  knot  of  dangerous  adversaries 
To-morrow  are  let  blood  at  Pomfret-castle  ; 
And  bid  my  friend,  for  joy  of  this  good  news, 
Give  Mistress  Shore  one  gentle  kiss  the  more. 

Buck.  Good  Catesby,  go,  effect  this  business  soundly. 

Cate.  My  good  lords,  both,  with  all  the  heed  I  may. 

Glou.  Shall  we  hear  from  you,  Catesby,  ere  we  sleep? 

Cate.  You  shall,  my  lord. 

Glou.  At  Crosby  Place,  there  shall  you  find  us  both.       190 

[Ex-it  Catesby. 

Buck.  Now,  my  lord,  what  shall  we  do,  if  we  perceive 
Lord  Hastings  will  not  yield  to  our  complots? 

Glou.  Chop  off  his  head,  man  ;  somewhat  we  will  do : 
And,  look,  when  I  am  king,  claim  thou  of  me 
The  earldom  of  Hereford,  and  the  moveables 
Whereof  the  king  my  brother  stood  possess'd. 

Buck.  I  '11  claim  that  promise  at  your  grace's  hands. 

Glou.  And  look  to  have  it  yielded  with  all  willingness. 
Come,  let  us  sup  betimes,  that  afterwards 
We  may  digest  our  complots  in  some  form.       [Exeunt.     200 


'62  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  II 

SCENE  1 1.    Before  Lord  Hasting?  house. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  What,  ho !  my  lord ! 

Hast.  [Within]  Who  knocks  at  the  door? 

Mess.  A  messenger  from  the  Lord  Stanley. 

Enter  LORD  HASTINGS. 

Hast.  What  is 't  o'clock? 

Mess.  Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

Hast.  Cannot  thy  master  sleep  these  tedious  nights? 

Mess.  So  it  should  seem  by  that  I  have  to  say. 
First,  he  commends  him  to  your  noble  lordship. 

Hast.  And  then? 

Mess.  And  then  he  sends  you  word  1C 

He  dreamt  to-night  the  boar  had  razed  his  helm : 
Besides,  there  are  two  councils  held ; 
And  that  may  be  determined  at  the  one 
Which  may  make  you  and  him  rue  at  the  other. 
Therefore  he  sends  to  know  your  lordship's  pleasure, 
If  presently  you  will  take  horse  with  him, 
And  with  all  speed  post  with  him  toward  the  north, 
To  shun  the  danger  that  his  soul  divines. 

Hast.  Go,  fellow,  go,  return  unto  thy  lord; 
Hid  him  not  fear  the  separated  councils: 
His  honour  and  myself  are  at  the  one, 
And  at  the  other  is  my  servant  Catesby ; 
Where  nothing  can  proceed  that  toucheth  us 
Whereof  I  shall  not  have  intelligence. 
Tell  him  his  fears  are  shallow,  wanting  instance: 
And  for  his  dreams,  I  wonder  he  is  so  fond 
To  trust  the  mockery  of  unquiet  slumbers  : 
To  fly  the  boar  before  the  boar  pursues, 
Were  to  incense  the  boar  to  follow  us 
And  make  pursuit  where  he  did  mean  no  chase. 
Go,  bid  thy  master  rise  and  come  to  me ; 
And  we  will  both  together  to  the  Tower, 
Where,  he  shall  see,  the  boar  will  use  us  kindly. 

Mess.  My  gracious  lord,  I  '11  tell  him  what  you  say. 

[Ex 
Enter  CATESBY. 

Cate.  Many  good  morrows  to  my  noble  lord  ! 
Hast.  Good  morrow,  Catesby  ;  you  are  early  stirring : 
What  news,  what  news,  in  this  our  tottering  state? 


Scene  2.]        KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  63 

Cate.   It  is  a  reeling  world,  indeed,  my  noble  lord ; 
And  I  believe  't  will  never  stand  upright 
Till  Richard  wear  the  garland  of  the  realm.  40 

Hast.  How  !  wear  the  garland  !  dost  thou  mean  the  crown? 

Cate.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Hast.   I  '11  have  this  crown  of  mine  cut  from  my  shoulders 
Ere  I  will  see  the  crown  so  foul  misplaced. 
But  canst  thou  guess  that  he  doth  aim  at  it? 

Cate.  Ay,  on  my  life ;  and  hopes  to  find  you  forward 
Upon  his  party  for  the  gain  thereof: 
And  thereupon  he  sends  you  this  good  news, 
That  this  same  very  day  your  enemies, 
The  kindred  of  the  queen,  must  die  at  Pomfret.  50 

Hast.  Indeed,  I  am  no  mourner  for  that  news, 
Because  they  have  been  still  mine  enemies : 
But,  that  I  '11  give  my  voice  on  Richard's  side, 
To  bar  my  master's  heirs  in  true  descent, 
God  knows  I  will  not  do  it,  to  the  death. 

Cate.  God  keep  your  lordship  in  that  gracious  mind ! 
.    Hast.  But  I  shall  laugh  at  this  a  twelvemonth  hence, 
That  they  who  brought  me  in  my  master's  hate, 
I  live  to  look  upon  their  tragedy. 
I  tell  thee,  Catesby,—  6c 

Cate.  What,  my  lord? 

Hast.  Ere  a  fortnight  make  me  elder, 
I  '11  send  some  packing  that  yet  think  not  on  it. 

Cate.  'T  is  a  vile  thing  to  die,  my  gracious  lord, 
When  men  are  unprepared  and  look  not  for  it. 

Hast.  O  monstrous,  monstrous !  and  so  falls  it  out 
With  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey :  and  so  't  will  do 
With  some  men  else,  who  think  themselves  as  safe 
As  thou  and  I ;  who,  as  thou  know'st,  are  dear 
To  princely  Richard  and  to  Buckingham.  70 

Cate.  The  princes  both  make  high  account  of  you ; 
\Aside\  For  they  account  his  head  upon  the  bridge. 

Hast.  I  know  they  do ;  and  I  have  well  deserved  it. 

Enter  LORD   STANLEY. 

Come  on,  come  on ;  where  is  your  boar-spear,  man  ? 
Fear  you  the  boar,  and  go  so  unprovided? 

Stan.  My  lord,  good  morrow ;  good  morrow,  Catesby : 
You  may  jest  on,  but,  by  the  holy  rood, 
I  do  not  like  these  several  councils,  I. 

Hast.  My  lord, 
!  hold  my  life  as  dear  as  you  do  yours ;  80 


64  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  III. 

And  never  in  my  life,  I  do  protest. 
Was  it  more  precious  to  me  than  't  is  now: 
Think  you,  but  that  I  know  our  state  secure, 
I  would  be  so  triumphant  as  I  am? 

Stan.  The  lords  at  Pomfret,  when  they  rode  from  London, 
Were  jocund,  and  supposed  their  state  was  sure, 
And  they  indeed  had  no  cause  to  mistrust ; 
But  yet,  you  see,  how  soon  the  day  o'ercast. 
This  sudden  stab  of  rancour  I  misdoubt : 
Pray  God,  1  say,  I  prove  a  needless  coward !  90 

What,  shall  we  toward  the  Tower?  the  day  is  spent. 

Hast.  Come,  come,  have  with  you.    Wot  you  what,  my  lord? 
To-day  the  lords  you  talk  of  are  beheaded. 

Stan.  They,  for  their  truth,  might  better  wear  their  heads 
Than  some  that  have  accused  them  wear  their  hats. 
But  come,  my  lord,  let  us  away. 

Enter  a  Pursuivant. 

Hast.  Go  on  before ;  I  '11  talk  with  this  good  fellow. 

[Exeunt  Stanley  and  Catesby. 
How  now,  sirrah!  how  goes  the  world  with  thee? 

Purs.  The  better  that  your  lordship  please  to  ask. 

Hast.  I  tell  thee,  man,  'tis  better  with  me  now  100 

Than  when  I  met  thee  last  where  now  we  meet : 
Then  was  I  going  prisoner  to  the  Tower, 
By  the  suggestion  of  the  queen's  allies : 
But  now,  I  tell  thee — keep  it  to  thyself — 
This  day  those  enemies  are  put  to  death, 
And  I  in  better  state  than  e'er  I  was. 

Purs.  God  hold  it,  to  your  honour's  good  content ! 

Hast.  Gramercy,  fellow :  there,  drink  that  for  me. 

[  Throu'S  him  his  purse. 

Purs.  God  save  your  lordship !  \Exi 

Enter  <:  Priest. 

Priest.  Well  met,  my  lord  ;  I  am  glad  to  see  your  honour 
Hast.  I  thank  thee,  good  Sir  John,  with  all  my  heart.     1 1 1 

I  am  in  your  debt  for  your  last  exercise  ; 

Come  the  next  Sabbath  and  I  will  content  you. 

[fit  whispers  in  his 

Enter  BUCKINGHAM. 

Buck.  What,  talking  with  a  priest,  lord  chamberlain? 
Your  friends  at  Pomfret,  they  do  need  the  priest ; 
Your  honour  hath  no  shriving  work  in  hand. 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  65 

Hast.  Good  faith,  and  when  I  met  this  holy  man, 
Those  men  you  talk  of  came  into  my  mind. 
What,  go  you  toward  the  Tower? 

Buck.  I  do,  my  lord ;  but  long  I  shall  not  stay:  120 

I  shall  return  before  your  lordship  thence. 

Hast.  'T  is  like  enough,  for  I  stay  dinner  there. 

Buck.  {Aside}  And  supper  too,  although  thou  know'st  it 

not. 
Come,  will  you  go? 

Hast.  I  '11  wait  upon  your  lordship.  \Exeunt, 

SCENE  III.     Pomfret  Castle. 

Inter  SIR  RICHARD  RATCLIFF,  with  halberds,  carrying 
RIVERS,  GREY,  and  VAUGHAN  to  death. 

Rat.  Come,  bring  forth  the  prisoners. 

Riv.  Sir  Richard  Ratcliff,  let  me  tell  thee  this : 
To-day  shalt  thou  behold  a  subject  die 
For  truth,  for  duty,  and  for  loyalty. 

Grey.  God  keep  the  prince  from  all  the  pack  of  you  ! 
A  knot  you  are  of  damned  blood-suckers. 

Vaug.  You  live  that  shall  cry  woe  for  this  hereafter. 

Rat.  Dispatch  ;  the  limit  of  your  lives  is  out. 

Riv.  O  Pomfret,  Pomfret !  O  thou  bloody  prison, 
:  Fatal  and  ominous  to  noble  peers!  10 

Within  the  guilty  closure  of  thy  walls 
Richard  the  Second  here  was  hack'd  to  death ; 
And,  for  more  slander  to  thy  dismal  seat, 
We  give  thee  up  our  guiltless  blood  to  drink. 

Grey.  Now  Margaret's  curse  is  fall'n  upon  our  heads, 
!  For  standing  by  when  Richard  stabb'd  her  son. 

Riv.  Then  cursed  she  Hastings,  then  cursed  she  Bucking- 
ham, 

Then  cursed  she  Richard.     O,  remember,  God, 
To  hear  her  prayers  for  them,  as  now  for  us ! 
And  for  my  sister  and  her  princely  sons,  20 

Be  satisfied,  dear  God,  with  our  true  blood, 
Which,  as  thou  know'st,  unjustly  must  be  spilt. 

Rat.  Make  haste ;  the  hour  of  death  is  expiate. 

Riv.  Come,  Grey,  come,  Vaughan,  let  us  all  embrace : 
And  take  our  leave,  until  we  meet  in  heaven.  \Exeunt- 


(M  233) 


66  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 


SCENE  IV.     The  Tower  of  London. 

Enter  BUCKINGHAM,  DERBY,  HASTINGS,  the  BISHOP  OP 
ELY,  RATCLIFF,  LOVEL,  -with  others,  and  take  their  seats 
at  a  table. 

Hast.   My  lords,  at  once  :  the  cause  why  we  are  met 
Is,  to  determine  of  the  coronation. 
In  God's  name,  speak:  when  is  the  royal  day? 

Buck.  Are  all  things  fitting  for  that  royal  time? 

Der.   It  is,  and  wants  but  nomination. 

Ely.  To-morrow,  then,  I  judge  a  happy  day. 

Buck.  Who  knows  the  lord  protector's  mind  herein? 
Who  is  most  inward  with  the  noble  duke? 

Ely.  Your  grace,  we  think,  should  soonest  know  his  mind. 

Buck.   Who,  I,  my  lord!  we  know  each  other's  faces,       10 
Hut  for  our  hearts,  he  knows  no  more  of  mine, 
Than  I  of  yours  ; 

Nor  I  no  more  of  his,  than  you  of  mine. 
Lord  Hastings,  you  and  he  are  near  in  love. 

Hast.  I  thank  his  grace,  I  know  he  loves  me  well ; 
But,  for  his  purpose  in  the  coronation, 
I  have  not  sounded  him,  nor  he  delivered 
His  gracious  pleasure  any  way  therein: 
But  you,  my  noble  lords,  may  name  the  time ; 
And  in  the  duke's  behalf  I  '11  give  my  voice,  zc 

Which,  I  presume,  he  '11  take  in  gentle  part. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER. 

Ely.  Now  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  duke  himself. 

Glou.  My  noble  lords  and  cousins  all,  good  morrow. 
I  have  been  long  a  sleeper ;  but,  I  hope, 
My  absence  doth  neglect  no  great  designs, 
Which  by  my  presence  might  have  been  concluded. 

Buck.  Had  not  you  come  upon  your  cue.  my  lord, 
William  Lord  Hastings  had  pronounced  your  part, — 
I  mean,  your  voice, — for  crowning  of  the  king. 

Glou.  Than  my  Lord  Hastings  no  man  might  be  bolder; 
His  lordship  knows  me  well,  and  loves  me  well.  31 

Hast.  I  thank  your  grace. 

Glou.  My  lord  of  Ely ! 

Ely.  My  lord? 

Glou.  When  I  was  last  in  Holborn, 
I  saw  good  strawberries  in  your  garden  there : 
I  do  beseech  vou  send  for  some  of  them. 


tie  4.J        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  67 

ly.   Marry,  and  will,  my  lord,  with  all  my  heart.       [Exit 
lou.  Cousin  of  Buckingham,  a  word  with  you. 
[Drawing  him  aside. 
:sby  hath  sounded  Hastings  in  our  business, 
And  finds  the  testy  gentleman  so  hot, 

As  he  will  lose  his  head  ere  give  consent  40 

His  master's  son,  as  worshipful  he  terms  it, 
Shall  lose  the  royalty  of  England's  throne. 
Buck.  Withdraw  you  hence,  my  lord,  I  '11  follow  you. 

\Exit  Gloucester,  Buckingham  following. 
Der.  We  have  not  yet  set  down  this  day  of  triumph. 
To-morrow,  in  mine  opinion,  is  too  sudden ; 
For  I  myself  am  not  so  well  provided 
As  else  I  would  be,  were  the  day  prolong'd. 

Re-enter  BISHOP  OF  ELY. 

Ely.  Where  is  my  lord  protector?  I  have  sent  for  these 
strawberries. 

Hast.  His  grace  looks  cheerfully  and  smooth  to-day ;       50 
There 's  some  conceit  or  other  likes  him  well, 
When  he  doth  bid  good  morrow  with  such  a  spirit. 
I  think  there 's  never  a  man  in  Christendom 
That  can  less  hide  his  love  or  hate  than  he ; 
For  by  his  face  straight  shall  you  know  his  heart 

Der.  What  of  his  heart  perceive  you  in  his  face 
By  any  likelihood  he  show'd  to-day? 

Hast.  Marry,  that  with  no  man  here  he  is  offended ; 
!  For,  were  he,  he  had  shown  it  in  his  looks. 

Der.   I  pray  God  he  be  not,  I  say.  60 

Re-enter  GLOUCESTER  and  BUCKINGHAM. 

Glou.  I  pray  you  all,  tell  me  what  they  deserve 
That  do  conspire  my  death  with  devilish  plots 
1  Of  damned  witchcraft,  and  that  have  prevail'd 
'!  Upon  my  body  with  their  hellish  charms? 

Hast.  The  tender  love  I  bear  your  grace,  my  lord, 
Makes  me  most  forward  in  this  noble  presence 
To  doom  the  offenders,  whatsoever  they  be : 
I  say,  my  lord,  they  have  deserved  death. 

Glou.  Then  be  your  eyes  the  witness  of  this  ill : 
See  how  I  am  bewitch'd ;  behold  mine  arm  70 

Is,  like  a  blasted  sapling,  wither'd  up: 
And  this  is  Edward's  wife,  that  monstrous  witch, 
Consorted  with  that  harlot  strumpet  Shore, 
That  by  their  witchcraft  thus  have  marked  me. 


68  KIN(;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

Hast.   If  they  have  done  this  thing,  my  gracious  lord, — 
Glou.  If!  thou  protector  of  this  damned  strumpet, 

Tellest  thou  me  of  '  ifs '?    Thou  art  a  traitor : 

Off  with  his  head  !     Now,  by  Saint  Paul  I  swear, 

I  will  not  dine  until  I  see  the  same. 

Lovel  and  Ratcliflf,  look  that  it  be  done:  80 

The  rest,  that  love  me,  rise  and  follow  me. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Hastings,  Ratcliff,  and  Lovtl. 
Hast.  Woe,  woe  for  England  !  not  a  whit  for  me ; 

For  I,  too  fond,  might  have  prevented  this. 

Stanley  did  dream  the  boar  did  raze  his  helm ; 

But  I  disdain'd  it,  and  did  scorn  to  fly: 

Three  times  to-day  my  foot-cloth  horse  did  stumble, 

And  startled  when  he  lookM  upon  the  Tower, 

As  loath  to  bear  me  to  the  slaughter-house. 

O,  now  I  want  the  priest  that  spake  to  me : 

I  now  repent  I  told  the  pursuivant,  90 

As  Jt  were  triumphing  at  mine  enemies, 

How  they  at  Pomfret  bloodily  were  butcher'd, 

And  I  myself  secure  in  grace  and  favour. 

0  Margaret,  Margaret,  now  thy  heavy  curse 
Is  lighted  on  poor  Hastings'  wretched  head! 

Rat.  Dispatch,  my  lord;  the  duke  would  be  at  dinner: 
Make  a  short  shrift ;  he  longs  to  see  your  head. 

Hast.  O  momentary  grace  of  mortal  men, 
Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God ! 
Who  builds  his  hopes  in  air  of  your  good  looks,  100 

Lives  like  a  drunken  sailor  on  a  mast, 
Ready,  with  every  nod,  to  tumble  down 
Into  the  fatal  bowels  of  the  deep. 

Lov.  Come,  come,  dispatch  ;  "t  is  bootless  to  exclaim. 

Hast.  O  bloody  Richard  !  miserable  England  1 

1  prophesy  the  fearfull'st  time  to  thee 
That  ever  wretched  age  hath  lookM  upon. 
Come,  lead  me  to  the  block ;  bear  him  my  head : 

They  smile  at  me  that  shortly  shall  be  dead.  [Exeunt 

SCENE  V.     The  Tower-walls. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER  and  BUCKINGHAM,  in  rotten  armour, 
mawellous  ill-Javoured. 

Glou.  Come,  cousin,  canst  thou  quake,  and  change  thy 

colour, 
Murder  thy  breath  in  middle  of  a  word, 


Scene  5.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  69 

And  then  begin  again,  and  stop  again, 

As  if  thou  wert  distraught  and  mad  with  terror? 

Buck.  Tut,  I  can  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian ; 
Speak  and  look  back,  and  pry  on  every  side, 
Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 
Intending  deep  suspicion :  ghastly  looks 
Are  at  my  service,  like  enforced  smiles ; 

And  both  are  ready  in  their  offices,  10 

At  any  time,  to  grace  my  stratagems. 
But  what,  is  Catesby  gone? 

Glou.  He  is  ;  and,  see,  he  brings  the  mayor  along. 

Enter  the  Mayor  and  CATESBY. 

Buck.  Lord  mayor, — 

Glou.  Look  to  the  drawbridge  there ! 

Buck.  Hark  !  a  drum. 

Glou.  Catesby,  o'erlook  the  walls. 

Buck.  Lord  mayor,  the  reason  we  have  sent — 

Glou.  Look  back,  defend  thee,  here  are  enemies. 

Buck.  God  and  our  innocency  defend  and  guard  us !        20 

Glou.  Be  patient,  they  are  friends,  Ratcliff  and  Lovel. 

Enter  LOVEL  and  RATCLIFF,  with  HASTINGS'  head. 

Lov.  Here  is  the  head  of  that  ignoble  traitor, 
The  dangerous  and  unsuspected  Hastings. 

Glou.  So  dear  I  loved  the  man  that  I  must  weep. 
I  took  him  for  the  plainest  harmless  creature 
That  breathed  upon  this  earth  a  Christian ; 
Made  him  my  book,  wherein  my  soul  recorded 
The  history  of  all  her  secret  thoughts : 
So  smooth  he  daub'd  his  vice  with  show  of  virtue, 
That,  his  apparent  open  guilt  omitted,  30 

I  mean,  his  conversation  with  Shore's  wife, 
He  lived  from  all  attainder  of  suspect. 

Buck.  Well,  well,  he  was  the  covert'st  shelter'd  traitor 
That  ever  lived. 

Would  you  imagine,  or  almost  believe, 
Were 't  not  that,  by  great  preservation, 
We  live  to  tell  it  you,  the  subtle  traitor 
This  day  had  plotted  in  the  council-house 
To  murder  me  and  my  good  lord  of  Gloucester? 

May.  What,  had  he  so  ?  40 

Glou.  What,  think  you  we  are  Turks  or  infidels? 
Or  that  we  would,  against  the  form  of  law, 
Proceed  thus  rashly  to  the  villain's  death, 


70  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IIJ. 

But  that  the  dxtreme  peril  of  the  case, 

The  peace  of  England  and  our  persons'  safety, 

Enforced  us  to  this  execution? 

May,  Now,  fair  befall  you  !  he  deserved  his  death  ; 
And  you,  my  good  lords  both,  have  well  proceeded, 
To  warn  false  traitors  from  the  like  attempts. 
I  never  look'd  for  better  at  his  hands,  50 

After  he  once  fell  in  with  Mistress  Shore. 

Glou.  Yet  had  not  we  determined  he  should  die, 
Until  your  lordship  came  to  see  his  death ; 
Which  now  the  loving  haste  of  these  our  friends, 
Somewhat  against  our  meaning,  have  prevented: 
Because,  my  lord,  we  would  have  had  you  heard 
The  traitor  speak,  and  timorously  confess 
The  manner  and  the  purpose  of  his  treason  ; 
That  you  might  well  have  signified  the  same 
Unto  the  citizens,  who  haply  may  60 

Misconstrue  us  in  him  and  wail  his  death. 

May.  Hut,  my  good  lord,  your  grace's  word  shall  serve, 
As  well  as  1  had  seen  and  heard  him  speak : 
And  doubt  you  not,  right  noble  princes  both, 
But  I  '11  acquaint  our  duteous  citizens 
With  all  your  just  proceedings  in  this  cause. 

Glou.  And  to  that  end  we  wish'd  your  lordship  here, 
To  avoid  the  carping  censures  of  the  world. 

Buck.  But  since  you  come  too  late  of  our  intents, 
Yet  witness  what  you  hear  we  did  intend ;  70! 

And  so,  my  good  lord  mayor,  we  bid  farewell.    [Exit  Mayor. 

Glou,  Go,  after,  after,  cousin  Buckingham. 
The  mayor  towards  Guildhall  hies  him  in  all  post : 
There,  at  your  meet'st  advantage  of  the  time, 
Infer  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children : 
Tell  them  how  Edward  put  to  death  a  citizen, 
Only  for  saying  he  would  make  his  son 
Heir  to  the  crown ;  meaning  indeed  his  house, 
Which,  by  the  sign  thereof,  was  termed  so. 
Moreover,  urge  his  hateful  luxury,  So 

And  bestial  appetite  in  change  of  lust ; 
Which  stretched  to  their  servants,  daughters,  wives, 
Even  where  his  lustful  eye  or  savage  heart, 
Without  control,  listed  to  make  his  prey. 
Nay,  for  a  need,  thus  far  come  near  my  person: 
Tell  them,  when  that  my  mother  went  with  child 
Of  that  unsatiate  Edward,  noble  York 
My  princely  father  then  had  wars  in  France  r 


Scene  6.]        KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  71 

And,  by  just  computation  of  the  time, 

Found  that  the  issue  was  not  his  begot ;  90 

Which  well  appeared  in  his  lineaments. 

Being  nothing  like  the  noble  duke  my  father : 

But  touch  this  sparingly,  as  't  were  far  off; 

Because  you  know,  my  lord,  my  mother  lives. 

Buck.  Fear  not,  my  lord,  I  '11  play  the  orator 
As  if  the  golden  fee  for  which  I  plead 
Were  for  myself:  and  so,  my  lord,  adieu. 

Glo u.   If  you  thrive  well,  bring  them  to  Baynard  s  Castle-, 
Where  you  shall  find  me  well  accompanied 
With  reverend  fathers  and  well-learned  bishops.  100 

Buck.   I  go :  and  towards  three  or  four  o'clock 
Look  for  the  news  that  the  Guildhall  affords.  [Exit. 

Clou.  Go,  Lovel,  with  all  speed  to  Doctor  Shaw : 
[To  Cate.]  Go  thou  to  Friar  Penker ;  bid  them  both 
Meet  me  within  this  hour  at  Baynard's  Castle. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Gloucester. 
Now  will  I  in,  to  take  some  privy  order, 
To  draw  the  brats  of  Clarence  out  of  sight ; 
And  to  give  notice,  that  no  manner  of  person 
At  any  time  have  recourse  unto  the  princes.  [Exit. 


SCENE  VI.     The  same.     A  street. 

Enter  a  Scrivener,  with  a  paper  in  his  hand. 

Scri-v.  This  is  the  indictment  of  the  good  Lord  Hastings : 
Which  in  a  set  hand  fairly  is  engross'd, 
That  it  may  be  this  day  read  over  in  Paul's. 
And  mark  how  well  the  sequel  hangs  together : 
Eleven  hours  I  spent  to  write  it  over, 
For  yesternight  by  Catesby  was  it  brought  me ; 
The  precedent  was  full  as  long  a-doing: 
And  yet  within  these  five  hours  lived  Lord  Hastings, 
Untainted,  unexamined,  free,  at  liberty. 

Here's  a  good  world  the  while!     Why,  who 's  so  gross,       10 
That  seeth  not  this  palpable  device? 
Yet  who's  so  blind,  but  says  he  sees  it  not? 
Bad  is  the  world  ;  and  all  will  come  to  nought, 
When  such  bad  dealing  must  be  seen  in  thought.          [Exit. 


7*  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

SCENE  VII      Baynard's  Castle. 
Enter  GLOUCESTER  and  BUCKINGHAM,  at  sweral  doors. 

Glou.   How  now,  my  lord,  what  say  the  citizens? 

ttuck.   Now,  by  the  holy  mother  of  our  Lord, 
The  citizens  are  mum  and  speak  not  a  word. 

Glou.  Touched  you  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children? 

Buck.  I  did ;  with  his  contract  with  Lady  Lucy, 
And  his  contract  by  deputy  in  France; 
The  insatiate  greediness  of  his  desires, 
And  his  enforcement  of  the  city  wives ; 
His  tyranny  for  trifles  ;  his  own  bastardy, 
As  being  got,  your  father  then  in  France,  10 

And  his  resemblance,  being  not  like  the  duke : 
Withal  I  did  infer  your  lineaments, 
Being  the  right  idea  of  your  father, 
Both  in  your  form  and  nobleness  of  mind; 
Laid  open  all  your  victories  in  Scotland, 
Your  discipline  in  war,  wisdom  in  peace, 
Your  bounty,  virtue,  fair  humility; 
Indeed,  left  nothing  fitting  for  the  purpose 
Untouch'd,  or  slightly  handled,  in  discourse: 
And  when  mine  oratory  grew  to  an  end,  20 

I  bid  them  that  did  love  their  country's  good 
Cry  'God  save  Richard,  England's  royal  king  1' 

Glou.  Ah!  and  did  they  so? 

Buck.  No,  so  God  help  me,  they  spake  not  a  word ; 
But,  like  dumb  statuas  or  breathing  stones, 
Gazed  each  on  other,  and  look'd  deadly  pale. 
Which  when  I  saw,  I  reprehended  them ; 
And  ask'd  the  mayor  what  meant  this  wilful  silence: 
His  answer  was,  the  people  were  not  wont 
To  be  spoke  to  but  by  the  recorder.  30 

Then  he  was  urged  to  tell  my  tale  again, 
'Thus  saith  the  duke,  thus  hath  the  duke  inferr'd'; 
But  nothing  spake  in  warrant  from  himself. 
When  he  had  done,  some  followers  of  mine  own, 
At  the  lower  end  of  the  hall,  hurl'd  up  their  caps, 
And  some  ten  voices  cried  '  God  save  King  Richard!' 
And  thus  I  took  the  vantage  of  those  few, 
'  Thanks,  gentle  citizens  and  friends,'  quoth  I ; 
'This  general  applause  and  loving  shout 
Argues  your  wisdoms  and  your  love  to  Richard':  4° 

And  even  here  brake  off,  and  came  away. 


me  7.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  73 

rlou.  What  tongueless  blocks  were  they !  would  they  not 

speak? 

tuck.  No,  by  my  troth,  my  lord. 

~rlou.  Will  not  the  mayor  then  and  his  brethren  come? 
luck.  The  mayor  is  here  at  hand :  intend  some  fear ; 
Je  not  you  spoke  with,  but  by  mighty  suit : 
And  look  you  get  a  prayer-book  in  your  hand, 
And  stand  betwixt  two  churchmen,  good  my  lord ; 
For  on  that  ground  I  '11  build  a  holy  de"scant : 
And  be  not  easily  won  to  our  request :  50 

Play  the  maid's  part,  still  answer  nay,  and  take  it. 

Glou.  I  go ;  and  if  you  plead  as  well  for  them 
As  I  can  say  nay  to  thee  for  myself, 
No  doubt  we  '11  bring  it  to  a  happy  issue. 
Buck,  Go,  go,  up  to  the  leads ;  the  lord  mayor  knocks. 

[Exit  Gloucester. 

Enter  the  Mayor  and  Citizens. 

Welcome,  my  lord:  I  dance  attendance  here; 
1 1  think  the  duke  will  not  be  spoke  withal. 

Enter  CATESBY. 

Here  comes  his  servant :  how  now,  Catesby, 
What  says  he? 

Cafe.  My  lord,  he  doth  entreat  your  grace 
TD  visit  him  to-morrow  or  next  day  :  60 

j  He  is  within,  with  two  right  reverend  fathers, 
:  Divinely  bent  to  meditation ; 
And  in  no  worldly  suit  would  he  be  moved, 
1  To  draw  him  from  his  holy  exercise. 

Buck.  Return,  good  Catesby,  to  thy  lord  again  ; 
Tell  him,  myself,  the  mayor  and  citizens, 
In  deep  designs  and  matters  of  great  moment, 
\  No  less  importing  than  our  general  good, 
I  Are  come  to  have  some  conference  with  his  grace. 

Cafe.  I. '11  tell  him  what  you  say,  my  lord.  70 

{Exit. 

Buck.  Ah,  ha,  my  lord,  this  prince  is  not  an  Edward! 
?  He  is  not  lolling  on  a  lewd  day-bed, 
But  on  his  knees  at  meditation ; 
Not  dallying  with  a  brace  of  courtezans, 
But  meditating  with  two  deep  divines ; 
Not  sleeping,  to  engross  his  idle  body, 
But  praying,  to  enrich  his  watchful  soul : 
Happy  were  England,  would  this  gracious  prince 


74  KING    RICHARD   THK   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

Take  on  himself  the  sovereignty  thereof: 

But,  sure,  I  fear,  we  shall  ne'er  win  him  to  it.  80 

May.  Marry,  God  forbid  his  grace  should  say  us  nay! 

Buck.  I  fear  he  will. 

Re-enter  CATESBY. 

How  now,  Catesby,  what  says  your  lord? 

Cate.  •    My  lord, 

He  wonders  to  what  end  you  have  assembled 
Such  troops  of  citizens  to  speak  with  him, 
His  grace  not  being  warn'd  thereof  before : 
My  lord,  he  fears  you  mean  no  good  to  him. 

Buck.  Sorry  I  am  my  noble  cousin  should 
Suspect  me,  that  I  mean  no  good  to  him : 
By  heaven,  I  come  in  perfect  love  to  him ;  90 

And  so  once  more  return  and  tell  his  grace.      \_Exit  Catesby. 
When  holy  and  devout  religious  men 
Are  at  their  beads,  *t  is  hard  to  draw  them  thence, 
So  sweet  is  zealous  contemplation. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER  aloft,  between  two  Bishops. 
CATESBY  returns. 

May.  See,  where  he  stands  between  two  clergymen ! 

Buck.  Two  props  of  virtue  for  a  Christian  prince, 
To  stay  him  from  the  fall  of  vanity: 
And,  see,  a  book  of  prayer  in  his  hand, 
True  ornaments  to  know  a  holy  man. 

Famous  Plantagenet,  most  gracious  prince  ioc 

Lend  favourable  ears  to  our  request ; 
And  pardon  us  the  interruption 
Of  thy  devotion  and  right  Christian  zeal. 

Clou.  My  lord,  there  needs  no  such  apology: 
I  rather  do  beseech  you  pardon  me, 
Who,  earnest  in  the  service  of  my  God, 
Neglect  the  visitation  of  my  friends. 
But,  leaving  this,  what  is  your  grace's  pleasure? 

Buck.  Even  that,  I  hope,  which  pleaseth  God  above, 
And  all  good  men  of  this  ungovern'd  isle.  I V 

Clou.   I  do  suspect  I  have  done  some  offence 
That  seems  disgracious  in  the  city's  eyes, 
And  that  you  come  to  reprehend  my  ignorance. 

Buck.  You  have,  my  lord :    would   it  might  please  your 

grace, 
At  our  entreaties,  to  amend  that  fault ! 

Clou.  Else  wherefore  breathe  I  in  a  Christian  land? 


Scene  7.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 


75 


Buck.  Then  know,  it  is  your  fault  that  you  resign 
The  supreme  seat,  the  throne  majestical, 
The  scepter*  d  office  of  your  ancestors, 

Your  state  of  fortune  and  your  due  of  birth,  120 

The  lineal  glory  of  your  royal  house, 
To  the  corruption  of  a  blemish'd  stock : 
Whitet,  in  the  mildness  of  your  sleepy  thoughts, 
Which  here  we  waken  to  our  country's  good, 
This  noble  isle  doth  want  her  proper  limbs ; 
Her  face  defaced  with  scars  of  infamy, 
Her  royal  stock  graft  with  ignoble  plants, 
And  almost  shoulder"d  in  the  swallowing  gulf 
Of  blind  forgetfulness  and  dark  oblivion. 
Which  to  recure,  we  heartily  solicit  130 

Your  gracious  self  to  take  on  you  the  charge 
And  kingly  government  of  this  your  land; 
Not  as  protector,  steward,  substitute, 
Or  lowly  factor  for  another's  gain  ; 
But  as  successively  from  blood  to  blood, 
Your  right  of  birth,  your  empery,  your  own. 
For  this,  consorted  with  the  citizens, 
Your  very  worshipful  and  loving  friends, 
And  by  their  vehement  instigation, 
In  this  just  suit  come  I  to  move  your  grace.  140 

Glou.  I  know  not  whether  to  depart  in  silence, 
Or  bitterly  to  speak  in  your  reproof, 
Best  fitteth  my  degree  or  your  condition : 
If  not  to  answer,  you  might  haply  think 
Tongue-tied  ambition,  not  replying,  yielded 
To  bear  the  golden  yoke  of  sovereignty, 
Which  fondly  you  would  here  impose  on  me ; 
If  to  reprove  you  for  this  suit  of  yours, 
So  season'd  with  your  faithful  love  to  me, 
Then,  on  the  other  side,  I  check'd  my  friends.  1 5° 

Therefore,  to  speak,  and  to  avoid  the  first, 
And  then,  in  speaking,  not  to  incur  the  last, 
Definitively  thus  I  answer  you. 
Your  love  deserves  my  thanks ;  but  my  desert 
Unmeritable  shuns  your  high  request. 
First,  if  all  obstacles  were  cut  away, 
And  that  my  path  were  even  to  the  crown, 
As  my  ripe  revenue  and  due  by  birth ; 
Yet  so  much  is  my  poverty  of  spirit, 

So  mighty  and  so  many  my  defects,  J<X) 

.\s  I  had  rather  hide  me  from  my  greatness, 


76  KING    RICHARD  THE   THIRD.         [Act  Ilr. 

Being  a  bark  to  brook  no  mighty  sea, 

Than  in  my  greatness  covet  to  be  hid, 

And  in  the  vapour  of  my  glory  smother'd. 

But,  God  be  thanked,  there 's  no  need  of  me, 

And  much  I  need  to  help  you,  if  need  were; 

The  royal  tree  hath  left  us  royal  fruit, 

Which,  mellow'd  by  the  stealing  hours  of  time,  » 

Will  well  become  the  seat  of  majesty, 

And  make,  no  doubt,  us  happy  by  his  reign.  170 

On  him  I  lay  what  you  would  lay  on  me, 

The  right  and  fortune  of  his  happy  stars ; 

Which  God  defend  that  I  should  wring  from  him ! 

Buck.  My  lord,  this  argues  conscience  in  your  grace; 
But  the  respects  thereof  are  nice  and  trivial, 
All  circumstances  well  considered. 
You  say  that  Edward  is  your  brother's  son : 
So  say  we  too,  but  not  by  Edward's  wife ; 
For  first  he  was  contract  to  Lady  Lucy — 
Your  mother  lives  a  witness  to  that  vow—  180 

And  afterward  by  substitute  betroth'd 
To  Bona,  sister  to  the  King  of  France. 
These  both  put  by,  a  poor  petitioner, 
A  care-crazed  mother  of  a  many  children, 
A  beauty-waning  and  distressed  widow, 
Even  in  the  afternoon  of  her  best  days, 
Made  prize  and  purchase  of  his  lustful  eye, 
Seduced  the  pitch  and  height  of  all  his  thoughts 
To  base  declension  and  loathed  bigamy : 
By  her,  in  his  unlawful  bed,  he  got  190 

This  Edward,  whom  our  manners  term  the  prince. 
More  bitterly  could  I  expostulate, 
Save  that,  for  reverence  to  some  alive, 
I  give  a  sparing  limit  to  my  tongue. 
Then,  good  my  lord,  take  to  your  royal  self 
This  proffer'd  benefit  of  dignity ; 
If  not  to  bless  us  and  the  land  withal, 
Yet  to  draw  forth  your  noble  ancestry 
From  the  corniption  of  abusing  times, 
Unto  a  lineal  true-derived  course.  200 

May.  Do,  good  my  lord,  your  citizens  entreat  you. 

Buck.  Refuse  not,  mighty  lord,  this  proffer'd  love. 

Cafe.  O,  make  them  joyful,  grant  their  lawful  suit  1 

Clou.  Alas,  why  would  you  heap  these  cares  on  me? 
I  am  unfit  for  state  and  majesty: 
I  do  beseech  you,  take  it  not  amiss ; 


Scene  7.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  77 

I  cannot  nor  I  will  not  yield  to  you. 

Buck.  If  you  refuse  it, — as,  in  love  and  zeal, 
Loath  to  depose  the  c-hild,  your  brother's  son; 
As  well  we  know  your  tenderness  of  heart  210 

And  gentle,  kind,  effeminate  remorse, 
Which  we  have  noted  in  you  to  your  kin, 
And  egally  indeed  to  all  estates, — 
Yet  whether  you  accept  our  suit  or  no, 
Your  brother's  son  shall  never  reign  our  king ; 
But  we  will  plant  some  other  in  the  throne, 
To  the  disgrace  and  downfall  of  your  house  : 
And  in  this  resolution  here  we  leave  you. — 
Come,  citizens :  'zounds  !  I  '11  entreat  no  more. 

Glou.  O,  do  not  swear,  my  lord  of  Buckingham.  220 

[Exit  Buckingham  -with  the  Citizens. 

Cate.  Call  them  again,  my  lord,  and  accept  their  suit. 

Another.  Do,  good  my  lord,  lest  all  the  land  do  rue  it. 

Glou.  Would  you  enforce  me  to  a  world  of  care  ? 
Well,  call  them  again.     I  am  not  made  of  stones, 
But  penetrable  to  your  kind  entreats, 
Albeit  against  my  conscience  and  my  soul. 

rtaiTj-^uj  JlK  -lutv-j      :•-,•  :  . ji'iabniM  .3.\Vd  .£ 

Re-enter  BUCKINGHAM  and  the  rest. 

Cousin  of  Buckingham,  and  you  sage,  grave  men, 

Since  you  will  buckle  fortune  on  my  back, 

To  bear  her  burthen,  whether  I  will  or  no, 

I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load  :  .        230 

But  if  black  scandal  or  foul-faced  reproach 

Attend  the  sequel  of  your  imposition, 

Your  mere  enforcement  shall  acquittance  me 

From  all  the  impure  blots  and  stains  thereof; 

For  God  he  knows,  and  you  may  partly  see,        T  .3,'fl 

How  far  I  am  from  the  desire  thereof. 

May.  God  bless  your  grace !  we  see  it,  and  will  say  it. 

Glou.  In  saying  so,  you  shall  but  say  the  truth. 

Buck.  Then  I  salute  you  with  this  kingly  title : 
Long  live  Richard,  England's  royal  king !  240 

May.  and  Cit.  Amen. 

Buck.  To-morrow  will  it  please  you  to  be  crown'd? 

Glou.  Even  when  you  please,  since  you  will  have  it  so. 

Buck.  To-morrow,  then,  we  will  attend  your  grace : 
And  so  most  joyfully  we  take  our  leave. 

Glou.  Come,  let  us  to  our  holy  task  again. 
Farewell,  good  cousin ;  farewell,  gentle  friends.         [Exeunt. 


78  KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

ACT    IV. 
SCENE  I.     Before  the  Tower. 

Enter,  on  one  side,  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK, 
and  MARQUKSS  OF  DORSET;  on  the  other,  ANN& 
DUCHESS  OF  GLOUCESTER,  leading  LADY  MARGAREI 
PLANTAGENET,  CLARENCE'S  young  daughter. 

Duck.  Who  meets  us  here?  my  niece  Plantagcnet, 
Led  in  the  hand  of  her  kind  aunt  of  Gloucester? 
Now,  for  my  life,  she 's  wandering  to  the  Tower, 
On  pure  heart's  love  to  greet  the  tender  princes. 
Daughter,  well  met. 

Annt.  God  give  your  graces  both 

A  happy  and  a  joyful  time  of  day  ! 

Q.  Eliz.  As  much  to  you,  good  sister!     Whither  away? 

Anne.   No  farther  than  the  Tower ;  and,  as  I  guess, 
Upon  the  like  devotion  as  yourselves, 
To  gratulate  the  gentle  princes  there.  ic 

Q.  Eliz.  Kind  sister,  thanks :  we  '11  enter  all  together. 

Enter  BRAKENBl'RV. 

And,  in  good  time,  here  the  lieutenant  comes. 

Master  lieutenant,  pray  you,  by  your  leave, 

How  doth  the  prince,  and  my  young  son  of  York? 

Brak.   Right  well,  dear  madam.     By  your  patience, 
I  may  not  suffer  you  to  visit  them: 
The  king  hath  straitly  charged  the  contrary. 

Q.  Eliz.  The  king!  why,  who's  that? 

Brak.   I  cry  you  mercy :  I  mean  the  lord  protector. 

Q.  Eliz.  The  Lord  protect  him  from  that  kingly  title !     2C 
Hath  he  set  bounds  betwixt  their  love  and  me? 
I  am  their  mother;  who  should  keep  me  from  them? 

Duch.  I  am  their  father's  mother ;  I  will  see  them. 

Anne.  Their  aunt  I  am  in  law,  in  love  their  mother: 
Then  bring  me  to  their  sights ;  I  '11  bear  thy  blame 
And  take  thy  office  from  thee,  on  my  peril 

Brak.   No,  madam,  no;  I  may  not  leave  it  so: 
I  am  bound  by  oath,  and  therefore  pardon  me.  [Exit. 

Enter  LORD  STANLEY. 

Stan.  Let  me  but  meet  you.  ladies,  one  hour  hence, 
And  i  11  salute  your  grace  of  York  as  mother,  30 


Scene  i.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  79 

And  reverend  looker  on,  of  two  fair  queens. 

[To  Anne]  Come,  madam,  you  must  straight  to  Westminster, 

There  to  be  crowned  Richard's  royal  queen. 

Q.  Eliz.   O,  cut  my  lace  in  sunder,  that  my  pent  heart 
May  have  some  scope  to  beat,  or  else  I  swoon 
With  this  dead-killing  news ! 

Anne.  Despiteful  tidings !     O  unpleasing  news ! 

Dor.  Be  of  good  cheer:  mother,  ho\v  fares  your  grace? 
-  Q.  Eliz.  O  Dorset,  speak  not  to  me,  get  thee  hence ! 
Death  and  destruction  dog  thee  at  the  heels ;  40 

Thy  mother's  name  is  ominous  to  children. 
If  thou  wilt  outstrip  death,  go  cross  the  seas, 
And  live  with  Richmond,  from  the  reach  of  hell : 
Go,  hie  thee,  hie  thee  from  this  slaughter-house, 
Lest  thou  increase  the  number  of  the  dead, 
And  make  me  die  the  thrall  of  Margaret's  curse, 
Nor  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  counted  queen. 

Stan.  Full  of  wise  care  is  this  your  counsel,  madam. 
Take  all  the  swift  advantage  of  the  hours ; 
You  shall  have  letters  from  me  to  my  son  50 

To  meet  you  on  the  way,  and  welcome  you. 
Be  not  ta'en  tardy  by  unwise  delay. 

Duck.  O  ill-dispersing  wind  of  misery ! 

0  my  accursed  womb,  the  bed  of  death ! 

A  cockatrice  hast  thou  hatch'd  to  the  world, 
Whose  unavoided  eye  is  murderous. 

Stan.  Come,  madam,  come ;  I  in  all  haste  was  sent. 

Anne.  And  I  in  all  unwillingness  will  go. 

1  would  to  God  that  the  inclusive  verge 

Of  golden  metal  that  must  round  my  brow  60 

Were  red-hot  steel,  to  sear  me  to  the  brain ! 

Anointed  let  me  be  with  deadly  venom, 

And  die,  ere  men  can  say,  God  save  the  queen ! 

Q.  Eliz.  Go,  go,  poor  soul,  I  envy  not  thy  glory ; 
To  feed  my  humour,  wish  thyself  no  harm. 

Anne.  No !  why?     When  he  that  is  my  husband  now 
Came  to  me,  as  I  follow'd  Henry's  corse, 
When  scarce  the  blood  was  well  wash'd  from  his  hands 
Which  issued  from  my  other  angel  husband 
And  that  dead  saint  which  then  I  weeping  follow'd ;  70 

O,  when,  I  say,  I  look'd  on  Richard's  face, 
This  was  my  wish:  '  Be  thou',  quoth  I,  'accursed, 
For  making  me,  so  young,  so  old  a  widow ! 
And,  when  thou  wed'st,  let  sorrow  haunt  thy  bed ; 
And  be  thy  wife — if  any  be  so  mad — 


8o  KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

As  miserable  by  the  life  of  thee 

As  thou  hast  made  me  by  my  clear  lord's  death  1' 

Lo,  ere  I  can  repeat  this  curse  again, 

Even  in  so  short  a  space,  my  woman's  heart 

Grossly  grew  captive  to  his  honey  words  80 

And  proved  the  subject  of  my  own  soul's  curse, 

Which  ever  since  hath  kept  my  eyes  from  rest ; 

For  never  yet  one  hour  in  his  bed 

Have  I  enjoy'd  the  golden  dew  of  sleep, 

But  have  been  waked  by  his  timorous  dreams. 

Besides,  he  hates  me  for  my  father  Warwick ; 

And  will,  no  doubt,  shortly  be  rid  of  me. 

Q.  Eliz.   Poor  heart,  adieu !   I  pity  thy  complaining. 

Anne.  No  more  than  from  my  soul  I  mourn  for  yours. 

Q.  Eliz.  Farewell,  thou  woful  wclcomer  of  glory  !  90 

Anne.  Adieu,  poor  soul,  that  takest  thy  leave  of  it ! 

Duck.  [To  Dorse/]  Go  thou  to  Richmond,  and  good  for- 
tune guide  thee ! 

[To  Anne]  Go  thou  to  Richard,  and  good  angels  guard 
thee! 

[To  Q.  Eliz.]  Go  thou  to  sanctuary,  and  good  thoughts 

possess  thee ! 

I  to  my  grave,  where  peace  and  rest  lie  with  me ! 
Eighty  odd  years  of  sorrow  have  I  seen, 
And  each  hour's  joy  wreck'd  with  a  week  of  teen. 

Q.  Eliz.  Stay,  yet  look  back  with  me  unto  the  Tower. 
Pity,  you  ancient  stones,  those  tender  babes 
Whom  envy  hath  immured  within  your  walls!  100 

Rough  cradle  for  such  little  pretty  ones ! 
Rude  ragged  nurse,  old  sullen  playfellow 
For  tender  princes,  use  my  babies  well ! 
So  foolish  sorrow  bids  your  stones  farewell.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     London.     The  palace. 

Sennet.    Enter  RICHARD,  in  pomp,  crowned;  BUCKINGHAM, 
CATESBY,  a  Page,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.  Stand  all  apart.     Cousin  of  Buckingham! 

Buck.  My  gracious  sovereign? 

K.  Rich.    Give   me   thy   hand.      [Here  he  ascendeth  his 

throne.]  Thus  high,  by  thy  advice 
And  thy  assistance,  is  King  Richard  seated: 
But  shall  we  wear  these  honours  for  a  day? 
Or  shall  they  last,  and  we  rejoice  in  them? 


Scene  2.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  8l 

Buck.  Still  live  they  and  for  ever  may  they  last ! 

K.  Rich.  O  Buckingham,  now  do  I  play  the  touch, 
To  try  if  thou  be  current  gold  indeed : 
Young  Edward  lives :  think  now  what  I  would  say.  10 

Buck.  Say  on,  my  loving  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Why,  Buckingham,  I  say,  I  would  be  king. 

Buck.  Why,  so  you  are,  my  thrice-renowned  liege. 

K.  Rich.  Ha!  am  I  king?  'tis  so:  but  Edward  lives. 

Buck.  True,  noble  prince. 

K.  Rich.  O  bitter  consequence, 

That  Edward  still  should  live  true  noble  prince ! 
Cousin,  thou  wert  not  wont  to  be  so  dull : 
Shall  I  be  plain?    I  wish  the  bastards  dead; 
And  I  would  have  it  suddenly  perform'd. 
What  sayest  thou?  speak  suddenly;  be  brief.  20 

Buck.  Your  grace  may  do  your  pleasure. 

K.  Rich.  Tut,  tut,  thou  art  all  ice,  thy  kindness  freezeth : 
Say,  have  I  thy  consent  that  they  shall  die? 

Buck.  Give  me  some  breath,  some  little  pause,  my  lord, 
Before  I  positively  speak  herein : 
I  will  resolve  your  grace  immediately.  [Exit. 

Gate.  {Aside  to  a  stander  by\  The  king  is  angry:  see,  he 
bites  the  lip. 

K.  Rich.  I  will  converse  with  iron-witted  fools 
And  unrespective  boys :  none  are  for  me 
That  look  into  me  with  considerate  eyes :  30 

High-reaching  Buckingham  grows  circumspect. 
Boy! 

Page.   My  lord? 

K.  Rich.  Know'st  thou  not  any  whom  corrupting  gold 
Would  tempt  unto  a  close  exploit  of  death? 

Page.  My  lord,  I  know  a  discontented  gentleman,.YA  .'A 
Whose  humble  means  match  not  his  haughty  mind : 
Gold  were  as  good  as  twenty  orators, 
And  will,  no  doubt,  tempt  him  to  any  thing.  .     39 

K.  Rich.  What  is  his  name? 

Page.  His  name,  my  lord,  is  Tyrrel. 

K.  Rich.  I  partly  know  the  man :  go,  call  him  hither. 

[Exit  Page. 

The  deep-revolving  witty  Buckingham 
No  more  shall  be  the  neighbour  to  my  counsel : 
Hath  he  so  long  held  out  with  me  untired, 
And  stops  he  now  for  breath  ? 

.00:  y-i  it  v 
(  H  238 )  F 


82  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.          [Act  IV. 

Enter  STANLEY. 

How  now!  what  news  with  you? 

Stan.   My  lord,  I  hear  the  Marquis  Dorset's  fled 
To  Richmond,  in  those  parts  beyond  the  sea 
Where  he  abides.  [Stands  apart. 

A".  Rich.  Catesby! 

Cate.   My  lord?  50 

K.  Rich.  Rumour  it  abroad 
That  Anne,  my  wife,  is  sick  and  like  to  die: 
I  will  take  order  for  her  keeping  close. 
Inquire  me  out  some  mean-born  gentleman, 
Whom  I  will  marry  straight  to  Clarence'  daughter: 
The  boy  is  foolish,  and  I  fear  not  him. 
Look,  how  thou  dream'st !  I  say  again,  give  out 
That  Anne  my  wife  is  sick  and  like  to  die : 
About  it ;  for  it  stands  me  much  upon, 

To  stop  all  hopes  whose  growth  may  damage  me.  60 

[Exit  Catesby. 

I  must  be  married  to  my  brother's  daughter, 
Or  else  my  kingdom  stands  on  brittle  glass. 
Murder  her  brothers,  and  then  marry  her! 
Uncertain  way  of  gain!     Hut  I  am  in 
So  far  in  blood  that  sin  will  pluck  on  sin : 
Tear-falling  pity  dwells  not  in  this  eye. 

Re-enter  Page,  with  TYRREL. 

Is  thy  name  Tyrrel? 

Tyr.  James  Tyrrel,  and  your  most  obedient  subject. 

K.  Rich.  Art  thou,  indeed? 

Tyr.  Prove  me,  my  gracious  sovereign. 

K.  Rich.  Darest  thou  resolve  to  kill  a  friend  of  mine?      70 

Tyr.  Ay,  my  lord ; 
But  I  had  rather  kill  two  enemies. 

K.  Rich.  Why,  there  thou  hast  it :  two  deep  enemies, 
Foes  to  my  rest  and  my  sweet  sleep's  disturbers 
Are  they  that  I  would  have  thee  deal  upon : 
Tyrrel,  I  mean  those  bastards  in  the  Tower. 

Tyr.  Let  me  have  open  means  to  come  to  them, 
And  soon  I  '11  rid  you  from  the  fear  of  them. 

A'.  Rich.  Thou  sing's!  sweet  music.     Hark,  come  hither, 

Tyrrel : 

Go,  by  this  token  :  rise,  and  lend  thine  ear:      \\Vhispers.   80 
There  is  no  more  but  so:  say  it  is  done, 
And  I  will  love  thee,  and  prefer  thee  too. 


Scene  2.J        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  83 

Tyr.  'T  is  done,  my  gracious  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Shall  we  hear  from  thee,  Tyrrel,  ere  we  sleep? 

Tyr.  Ye  shall,  my  lord.  {Exit 

Re-enter  BUCKINGHAM. 

Buck.  My  lord,  I  have  consider'd  in  my  mind 
The  late  demand  that  you  did  sound  me  in. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  let  that  pass.     Dorset  is  fled  to  Richmond. 

Buck.   I  hear  that  news,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Stanley,  he  is  your  wife's  son  :  well,  look  to  it.  90 

Buck.  My  lord,  I  claim  your  gift,  my  due  by  promise, 
For  which  your  honour  and  your  faith  is  pawn'd ; 
The  earldom  of  Hereford  and  the  moveables 
The  which  you  promised  I  should  possess. 

K.  Rich.  Stanley,  look  to  your  wife :  if  she  convey 
Letters  to  Richmond,  you  shall  answer  it. 

Buck.  What  says  your  highness  to  my  just  demand? 

K.  Rich.  As  I  remember,  Henry  the  Sixth 
Did  prophesy  that  Richmond  should  be  king, 
When  Richmond  was  a  little  peevish  boy.  100 

A  king,  perhaps,  perhaps, — 

Buck.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  How  chance  the  prophet  could  not  at  that  time 
Have  told  me,  I  being  by,  that  I  should  kill  him? 

Buck.  My  lord,  your  promise  for  the  earldom, — 

K.  Rich.  Richmond !     When  last  I  was  at  Exeter, 

he  mayor  in  courtesy  show'd  me  the  castle, 
And  call'd  it  Rougemont :  at  which  name  I  started, 
Because  a  bard  of  Ireland  told  me  once, 
I  should  not  live  long  after  I  saw  Richmond.  1 10 

Buck.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  what 's  o'clock? 

Buck.  I  am  thus  bold  to  put  your  grace  in  mind 
Of  what  you  promised  me. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  but  what 's  o'clock? 

Buck.  Upon  the  stroke  of  ten. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  let  it  strike. 

Buck.  Why  let  it  strike? 

K.  Rich.  Because  that,  like  a  Jack,  thou  keep'st  the  stroke 
Betwixt  thy  begging  and  my  meditation. 
I  am  not  in  the  giving  vein  to-day. 

Buck.  Why,  then  resolve  me  whether  you  will  or  no.      1 20 

K.  Rich.  Tut,  tut, 
Thou  troubles!  me  ;  I  am  not  in  the  vein. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Buckingham. 


84  KING    RICHARD   THE   TIHRD.         [Act  IV. 

Buck.   Is  it  even  so?  rewards  he  my  true  service 
With  such  deep  contempt?  made  I  him  king  for  this? 
O,  let  me  think  on  Hastings,  and  be  gone 
To  Brecknock,  while  my  fearful  head  is  on !  {Exit. 

SCENE  III.     The  same. 

Enter  TYRREL. 

Tyr.  The  tyrannous  and  bloody  deed  is  done, 
The  most  arch  act  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 
Dighton  and  Forrest,  whom  I  did  suborn 
To  do  this  ruthless  piece  of  butchery, 
Although  they  were  flesh'd  villains,  bloody  dogs, 
Melting  with  tenderness  and  kind  compassion 
Wept  like  two  children  in  their  deaths'  sad  stories. 
'  Lo,  thus ',  quoth  Dighton,  '  lay  those  tender  babes ' : 
'Thus,  thus,'  quoth  Forrest,  'girdling  one  another  10 

Within  their  innocent  alabaster  arms : 
Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 
Which  in  their  summer  beauty  kiss'd  each  other. 
A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay; 
Which  once",  quoth  Forrest,  'almost  changed  my  mind; 
But  O !  the  devil' — there  the  villain  stopp'd; 
Whilst  Dighton  thus  told  on :  'We  smothered 
The  most  replenished  sweet  work  of  nature, 
That  from  the  prime  creation  e'er  she  framed.' 
Thus  both  are  gone  with  conscience  and  remorse ;  2c 

They  could  not  speak ;  and  so  I  left  them  both, 
To  bring  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  king. 
And  here  he  comes. 

Enter  KING  RICHARD. 

All  hail,  my  sovereign  liege  ! 

K.  Rich.  Kind  Tyrrel,  am  I  happy  in  thy  news? 

Tyr.  If  to  have  done  the  thing  you  gave  in  charge 
Beget  your  happiness,  be  happy  then, 
For  it  is  done,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  But  didst  thou  see  them  dead? 

Tyr.   I  did,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  And  buried,  gentle  Tyrrel? 

Tyr.  The  chaplain  of  the  Tower  hath  buried  them ; 
But  how  or  in  what  place  I  do  not  know.  30 

K.  Rich.  Come  to  me,  Tyrrel,  soon  at  after  supper, 


Scene  4.]         KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  85 

And  thou  shalt  tell  the  process  of  their  death. 

Meantime,  but  think  how  I  may  do  thee  good, 

And  be  inheritor  of  thy  desire. 

Farewell  till  soon.  [Exit  Tyrrel. 

The  son  of  Clarence  have  I  pent  up  close ; 

His  daughter  meanly  have  I  match  d  in  marriage; 

The  sons  of  Edward  sleep  in  Abraham's  bosom, 

And  Anne  my  wife  hath  bid  the  world  good-night. 

Now,  for  I  know  the  Breton  Richmond  aims  40 

At  young  Elizabeth,  my  brother's  daughter, 

And,  by  that  knot,  looks  proudly  o'er  the  crown, 

To  her  I  go,  a  jolly  thriving  wooer. 

Enter  CATESBY. 

Gate.  My  lord ! 

K.  Rich.  Good  news  or  bad,  that  thou  comest  in  so  bluntly? 

Gate.  Bad  news,  my  lord :  Ely  is  fled  to  Richmond ; 
And  Buckingham,  back'd  with  the  hardy  Welshmen, 
Is  in  the  field,  and  still  his  power  increaseth. 

K.  Rich.  Ely  with  Richmond  troubles  me  more  near 
Than  Buckingham  and  his  rash-levied  army.  50 

Come,  I  have  heard  that  fearful  commenting 
Is  leaden  servitor  to  dull  delay; 
Delay  leads  impotent  and  snail-paced  beggary: 
Then  fiery  expedition  be  my  wing, 
Jove's  Mercury,  and  herald  for  a  king ! 
Come,  muster  men :  my  counsel  is  my  shield  ; 
We  must  be  brief  when  traitors  brave  the  field.         [Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     Before  the  palace. 

Enter  QUEEN  MARGARET. 

Q.  Mar.  So,  now  prosperity  begins  to  mellow 
And  drop  into  the  rotten  mouth  of  death. 
Here  in  these  confines  slily  have  I  lurk'd, 
To  watch  the  waning  of  mine  adversaries. 
A  dire  induction  am  I  witness  to, 
And  will  to  France,  hoping  the  consequence 
Will  prove  as  bitter,  black,  and  tragical. 
Withdraw  thee,  wretched  Margaret:  who  comes  here? 

Enter  QUEEN  ELIZABETH  and  the  DUCHESS  OF  YORK. 

Q.  Eliz.  Ah,  my  young  princes !  ah,  my  tender  babes  ! 
My  unblown  flowers,  new-appearing  sweets !  10 


86  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

If  yet  your  gentle  souls  fly  in  the  air 
And  be  not  fix'd  in  doom  perpetual, 
Hover  about  me  with  your  airy  wings 
And  hear  your  mother's  lamentation  ! 

Q.  Mar.   Hover  about  her;  say,  that  right  for  right 
Hath  dimm'd  your  infant  morn  to  aged  night. 

Duch.  So  many  miseries  have  crazed  my  voice, 
That  my  woe-wearied  tongue  is  mute  and  dumb. 
Edward  I'lantagenet,  why  art  thou  dead? 

Q.  Mar.  Plantagenet  doth  quit  Plantagenet.  20 

Edward  for  Edward  pays  a  dying  debt. 

Q.  KHz.  Wilt  thou,  O  God,  fly  from  such  gentle  lambs, 
And  throw  them  in  the  entrails  of  the  wolf? 
When  didst  thou  sleep  when  such  a  deed  was  done? 

Q.  Mar.  When  holy  Harry  died,  and  my  sweet  son. 

Duch.   Blind  sight,  dead  life,  poor  mortal  living  ghost, 
Woe's  scene,  world's  shame,  grave's  due  by  life  usurp'd, 
Brief  abstract  and  recdrd  of  tedious  days, 
Rest  thy  unrest  on  England's  lawful  earth,        [Sitting  down. 
Unlawfully  made  drunk  with  innocents'  blood  !  30 

Q.  Eliz.  O,  that  thou  wouldst  as  well  afford  a  grave 
As  thou  canst  yield  a  melancholy  seat ! 
Then  would  I  hide  my  bones,  not  rest  them  here. 
O,  who  hath  any  cause  to  mourn  but  I?    \Sittingdoivnbyher. 

Q.  Mar.   If  ancient  sorrow  be  most  reverend, 
Give  mine  the  benefit  of  seniory, 
And  let  my  woes  frown  on  the  upper  hand. 
If  sorrow  can  admit  society,  \Sittiftgdown  -with  (hem. 

Tell  o'er  your  woes  again  by  viewing  mine: 
I  had  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him ;  40 

1  had  a  Harry,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him: 
Thou  hadst  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him; 
Thou  hadst  a  Richard,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him. 

Duch.   I  had  a  Richard  too,  and  thou  didst  kill  him ; 
I  had  a  Rutland  too,  thou  holp'st  to  kill  him. 

Q,.  Mat .  Thou  hadst  a  Clarence  too,  and  Richard  kill'd  him. 
From  forth  the  kennel  of  thy  womb  hath  crept 
A  hell-hound  that  doth  hunt  us  all  to  death: 
That  dog,  that  had  his  teeth  before  his  eyes, 
To  worry  lambs  and  lap  their  gentle  blood,  50 

That  foul  defacer  of  God's  handiwork, 
That  excellent  grand  tyrant  of  the  earth, 
That  reigns  in  galled  eyes  of  weeping  souls, 
Thy  womb  let  loose,  to  chase  us  to  our  graves. 
O  upright,  just,  and  true-disposing  God. 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  87 

How  do  I  thank  thee,  that  this  carnal  cur 

Preys  on  the  issue  of  his  mother's  body, 

And  makes  her  pew-fellow  with  others'  moan ! 

Duck.  O  Harry's  wife,  triumph  not  in  my  woes ! 
God  witness  with  me,  I  have  wept  for  thine.  60 

Q.  Mar.  Bear  with  me ;  I  am  hungry  for  revenge, 
And  now  I  cloy  me  with  beholding  it. 
Thy  Edward  he  is  dead,  that  stabb'd  my  Edward ; 
Thy  other  Edward  dead,  to  quit  my  Edward ; 
Young  York  he  is  but  boot,  because  both  they 
Match  not  the  high  perfection  of  my  loss : 
Thy  Clarence  he  is  dead  that  kill'd  my  Edward ; 
And  the  beholders  of  this  tragic  play, 
The  adulterate  Hastings,  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey, 
Untimely  smother'd  in  their  dusky  graves.  70 

Richard  yet  lives,  hell's  black  intelligencer, 
Only  reserved  their  factor,  to  buy  souls 
And  send  them  thither :  but  at  hand,  at  hand, 
Ensues  his  piteous  and  unpitied  end : 
Earth  gapes,  hell  burns,  fiends  roar,  saints  pray, 
To  have  him  suddenly  convey'd  away. 
Cancel  his  bond  of  life,  dear  God,  I  pray, 
That  I  may  live  to  say,  The  dog  is  dead ! 

Q.  Eliz.  O,  thou  didst  prophesy  the  time  would  come 
That  I  should  wish  for  thee  to  help  me  curse  80 

That  bottled  spider,  that  foul  bunch-back'd  toad ! 

Q.  Mar.  I  call'd  thee  then  vain  flourish  of  my  fortune ; 
I  call'd  thee  then  poor  shadow,  painted  queen  ; 
The  presentation  of  but  what  I  was ; 
The  flattering  index  of  a  direful  pageant ; 
One  heaved  a-high,  to  be  hurl'd  down  below ; 
A  mother  only  mock'd  with  two  sweet  babes ; 
A  dream  of  what  thou  wert,  a  breath,  a  bubble, 
A  sign  of  dignity,  a  garish  flag, 

To  be  the  aim  of  every  dangerous  shot ;  90 

A  queen  in  jest,  only  to  fill  the  scene. 
Where  is  thy  husband  now?  where  be  thy  brothers? 
Where  are  thy  children?  wherein  dost  thou  joy? 
\Vho  sues  to  thee  and  cries  '  God  save  the  queen '  ? 
Where  be  the  bending  peers  that  flatter'd  thee? 
Where  be  the  thronging  troops  that  follow'd  thee? 
Decline  all  this,  and  see  what  now  thou  art : 
For  happy  wife,  a  most  distressed  widow ; 
For  joyful  mother,  one  that  wails  the  name ; 
For  queen,  a  very  caitiff  crown'd  with  care ;  100 


88  KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

For  one  being  sued  to,  one  that  humbly  sues ; 

For  one  that  scorn'd  at  me,  now  scorn'd  of  me ; 

For  one  being  fear'd  (if  all,  now  fearing  one ; 

For  one  commanding  all,  obey'd  of  none. 

Thus  hath  the  course  of  justice  wheel'd  about, 

And  left  thee  but  a  very  prey  to  time ; 

Having  no  more  but  thought  of  what  thou  wert, 

To  torture  thee  the  more,  being  what  thou  art. 

Thou  didst  usurp  my  place,  and  dost  thou  not 

Usurp  the  just  proportion  of  my  sorrow?  I  ic 

Now  thy  proud  neck  bears  half  my  burthen'd  yoke ; 

From  which  even  here  I  slip  my  weary  neck, 

And  leave  the  burthen  of  it  all  on  thee. 

Farewell,  York's  wife,  and  queen  of  sad  mischance : 

These  English  woes  will  make  me  smile  in  France. 

Q.  Eliz.  O  thou  well  skill'd  in  curses,  stay  awhile, 
And  teach  me  how  to  curse  mine  enemies! 

Q.  Mar.  Forbear  to  sleep  the  nights,  and  fast  the  days; 
Compare  dead  happiness  with  living  woe ; 
Think  that  thy  babes  were  fairer  than  they  were,  120 

And  he  that  slew  them  fouler  than  he  is: 
Bettering  thy  loss  makes  the  bad  causer  worse : 
Revolving  this  will  teach  thee  how  to  curse. 

Q.  Eliz.  My  words  are  dull ;  O,  quicken  them  with  thine  i 

Q.  Afar.  Thy  woes  will  make  them  sharp,  and  pierce  like 
mine.  [Exit. 

Duch.  Why  should  calamity  be  full  of  words? 

Q.  Eliz.  Windy  attorneys  to  their  client  woes, 
Airy  succeeders  of  intestate  joys, 
Poor  breathing  orators  of  miseries ! 

Let  them  have  scope:  though  what  they  do  impart  130 

Help  not  at  all,  yet  do  they  ease  the  heart. 

Duch.  If  so,  then  be  not  tongue-tied:  go  with  me, 
And  in  the  breath  of  bitter  words  let 's  smother 
My  damned  son,  which  thy  two  sweet  sons  smother'd. 
I  hear  his  drum :  be  copious  in  exclaims. 

Enter  KING  RICHARD,  marching,  with  drums  and  trumpets. 

K.  Rich.  Who  intercepts  my  expedition? 

Duch.  O,  she  that  might  have  intercepted  thee, 
By  strangling  thee  in  her  accursed  womb, 
From  all  the  slaughters,  wretch,  that  thou  hast  done ! 

Q.  Elig.  Hidest  thou  that  forehead  with  a  golden  crown, 
Where  should  be  graven,  if  that  right  were  right,  141 

The  slaughter  of  the  prince  that  owed  that  crown, 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  89 

And  the  dire  death  of  my  two  sons  and  brothers? 
Tell  me,  thou  villain  slave,  where  are  my  children? 

Duck.  Thou  toad,  thou  toad,  where  is  thy  brother  Clarence? 
And  little  Ned  Plantagenet,  his  son? 

Q.  Eliz.  Where  is  kind  Hastings,  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey? 

K.  Rich,  A  flourish,  trumpets  !  strike  alarum,  drums  1 
Let  not  the  heavens  hear  these  tell-tale  women 
Rail  on  the  Lord's  anointed :  strike,  I  say !  1 50 

[Flourish.    Alarums. 
Either  be  patient,  and  entreat  me  fair, 
Or  with  the  clamorous  report  of  war 
Thus  will  I  drown  your  exclamations. 

Duch.  Art  thou  my  son? 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  I  thank  God,  my  father,  and  yourself. 

Duch.  Then  patiently  hear  my  impatience. 

K.  Rich.  Madam,  I  have  a  touch  of  your  condition, 
Which  cannot  brook  the  accent  of  reproof. 

Duch.  O,  let  me  speak ! 

K.  Rich.  Do  then,  but  I  '11  not  hear. 

Duch.  I  will  be  mild  and  gentle  in  my  speech.  160 

K.  Rich.  And  brief,  good  mother ;  for  I  am  in  haste. 

Duch.  Art  thou  so  hasty?     I  have  stay'd  for  thee, 
God  knows,  in  anguish,  pain  and  agony. 

K.  Rich.  And  came  I  not  at  last  to  comfort  you? 

Duch.  No,  by  the  holy  rood,  thou  know'st  it  well, 
Thou  earnest  on  earth  to  make  the  earth  my  hell. 
A  grievous  burthen  was  thy  birth  to  me ; 
Tetchy  and  wayward  was  thy  infancy ; 
Thy  school-days  frightful,  desperate,  wild,  and  furious, 
Thy  prime  of  manhood  daring,  bold,  and  venturous,  170 

Thy  age  confirm'd,  proud,  subtle,  bloody,  treacherous, 
More  mild,  but  yet  more  harmful,  kind  in  hatred : 
What  comfortable  hour  canst  thou  name, 
That  ever  graced  me  in  thy  company? 

K.  Rich.  Faith,  none,  but  Humphrey  Hour,  that  call'd  your 

grace 

To  breakfast  once  forth  of  my  company. 
If  I  be  so  disgracious  in  your  sight, 
Let  me  march  on,  and  not  offend  your  grace. 
Strike  up  the  drum. 

Duch.  I  prithee,  hear  me  speak. 

K.  Rich.  You  speak  too  bitterly. 

Duch.  Hear  me  a  word;        180 

For  I  shall  never  speak  to  thee  again. 

K.  Rich.  So. 


90  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD          [Act  IV 

Duck.  Either  thou  wilt  die,  by  God's  just  ordinance, 
Ere  from  this  war  thou  turn  a  conqueror, 
Or  I  with  grief  and  Extreme  age  shall  perish 
And  never  look  upon  thy  face  again. 
Therefore  take  with  thee  my  most  heavy  curse ; 
Which,  in  the  day  of  battle,  tire  thee  more 
Than  all  the  complete  armour  that  thou  wear's! ! 
My  prayers  on  the  adverse  party  fight ;  190 

And  there  the  little  souls  of  Edward's  children 
Whisper  the  spirits  of  thine  enemies 
And  promise  them  success  and  victory. 
Bloody  thou  art,  bloody  will  be  thy  end ; 
Shame  serves  thy  life  and  doth  thy  death  attend.  [Exit. 

Q.  Eliz.  Though  far  more  cause,  yet  much  less  spirit  to 

curse 
Abides  in  me ;  I  say  amen  to  all. 

K.  Rich.  Stay,  madam  ;  I  must  speak  a  word  with  you. 

Q.  Eliz.   I  have  no  moe  sons  of  the  royal  blood 
For  thee  to  murder :  for  my  daughters,  Richard,  200 

They  shall  be  praying  nuns,  not  weeping  queens; 
And  therefore  level  not  to  hit  their  lives. 

K.  Rich.  You  have  a  daughter  call'd  Elizabeth, 
Virtuous  and  fair,  royal  and  gracious. 

Q.  Eliz.  And  must  she  die  for  this?     O,  let  her  live, 
And  I  '11  corrupt  her  manners,  stain  her  beauty ; 
Throw  over  her  the  veil  of  infamy : 
So  she  may  live  unscarrM  of  bleeding  slaughter, 
I  will  confess  she  was  not  Edward's  daughter.  2IO 

K.  Rich.  Wrong  not  her  birth,  she  is  of  royal  blood. 

Q.  Eliz.  To  save  her  life,  I  '11  say  she  is  not  so. 

K.  Rich.  Her  life  is  only  safest  in  her  birth. 

Q.  Eliz.  And  only  in  that  safety  died  her  brothers. 

K.  Rich.  Lo,  at  their  births  good  stars  were  opposite. 

Q.  Eliz.   No,  to  their  lives  bad  friends  were  contrary. 

K.  Rich.  All  unavoided  is  the  doom  of  destiny. 

Q.  Eliz.  True,  when  avoided  grace  makes  destiny: 
My  babes  were  destined  to  a  fairer  death, 
If  grace  had  bless'd  thee  with  a  fairer  life.  220 

A'.  Rich.  You  speak  as  if  that  I  had  slain  my  cousins. 

Q.  Eliz.  Cousins,  indeed  ;  and  by  their  uncle  cozen'd 
Of  comfort,  kingdom,  kindred,  freedom,  life. 
Whose  hand  soever  lanced  their  tender  hearts, 
Thy  head,  all  indirectly,  gave  direction  : 
No  doubt  the  murderous  knife  was  dull  and  blunt 
Till  it  was  whetted  on  thy  stone-hard  heart, 


:ene  4.]        KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 


92  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

K.  Rich.  Madam,  with  all  my  heart.     270 

Q.  Eliz.  Send  to  her  by  the  man  that  slew  her  brothers, 
A  pair  of  bleeding  hearts ;  thereon  engrave 
Edward  and  York;  then  haply  she  will  weep: 
Therefore  present  to  her, — as  sometime  Margaret 
Did  to  thy  father,  steep'd  in  Rutland's  blood, — 
A  handkerchief;  which,  say  to  her,  did  drain 
The  purple  sap  from  her  sweet  brother's  body, 
And  bid  her  dry  her  weeping  eyes  therewith. 
If  this  inducement  force  her  not  to  love, 

Send  her  a  story  of  thy  noble  acts ;  280 

Tell  her  thou  madest  away  her  uncle  Clarence, 
Her  uncle  Rivers;  yea,  and,  for  her  sake, 
Madest  quick  conveyance  with  her  good  aunt  Anne. 

K.  Rich.  Come,  come,  you  mock  me ;  this  is  not  the  way 
To  win  your  daughter. 

Q.  Eliz.  There  is  no  other  way ; 

Unless  thou  couldst  put  on  some  other  shape, 
And  not  be  Richard  that  hath  done  all  this. 

K.  Rich.  Say  that  I  did  all  this  for  love  of  her. 

Q.  Eliz.  Nay,  then  indeed  she  cannot  choose  but  hate  thee, 
Having  bought  love  with  such  a  bloody  spoil.  290 

K.  Rich.  Look,  what  is  done  cannot  be  now  amended: 
Men  shall  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 
Which  after  hours  give  leisure  to  repent. 
If  I  did  take  the  kingdom  from  your  sons, 
To  make  amends,  I  '11  give  it  to  your  daughter. 
A'grandam's  name  is  little  less  in  love 

Than  is  the  doting  title  of  a  mother ;  300 

They  are  as  children  but  one  step  below, 
Even  of  your  mettle,  of  your  very  blood. 
Your  children  were  vexation  to  your  youth, 
But  mine  shall  be  a  comfort  to  your  age. 
The  loss  you  have  is  but  a  son  being  king, 
And  by  that  loss  your  daughter  is  made  queen. 
I  cannot  make  you  what  amends  I  would. 
Therefore  accept  such  kindness  as  I  can.  31 

Dorset  your  son,  that  with  a  fearful  soul 
Leads  discontented  steps  in  foreign  soil, 
This  fair  alliance  quickly  shall  call  home 
To  high  promotions  and  great  dignity : 
The  king,  that  calls  your  beauteous  daughter  wife, 
Familiarly  shall  call  thy  Dorset  brother ; 
Again  shall  you  be  mother  to  a  king, 
And  all  the  ruins  of  distressful  times 


Scene  4-]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  93 

Repair'd  with  double  riches  of  content. 

What !  we  have  many  goodly  days  to  see:  320 

The  liquid  drops  of  tears  that  you  have  shed 

Shall  come  again,  transform'd  to  orient  pearl, 

Advantaging  their  loan  with  interest 

Of  ten  times  double  gain  of  happiness. 

Go,  then,  my  mother,  to  thy  daughter  go ; 

Make  bold  her  bashful  years  with  your  experience  ; 

Prepare  her  ears  to  hear  a  wooer's  tale ; 

Put  in  her  tender  heart  the  aspiring  flame 

Of  golden  sovereignty ;  acquaint  the  princess 

With  the  sweet  silent  hours  of  marriage  joys:  330 

And  when  this  arm  of  mine  hath  chastised 

The  petty  rebel,  dull-brain'd  Buckingham, 

Bound  with  triumphant  garlands  will  I  come 

And  lead  thy  daughter  to  a  conqueror's  bed ; 

To  whom  I  will  retail  my  conquest  won, 

And  she  shall  be  sole  victress,  Caesar's  Caesar. 

Q.  Eliz.  What  were  I  best  to  say?  her  father's  brother 
Would  be  her  lord?  or  shall  I  say,  her  uncle? 
Or,  he  that  slew  her  brothers  and  her  uncles? 
Under  what  title  shall  I  woo  for  thee,  340 

That  God,  the  law,  my  honour  and  her  love, 
Can  make  seem  pleasing  to  her  tender  years? 

K.  Rich.  Infer  fair  England's  peace  by  this  alliance. 

Q.  Eliz.  Which  she  shall  purchase  with  still  lasting  war. 

K.  Rich.  Say  that  the  king,  which  may  command,  entreats. 

Q.  Eliz.  That  at  her  hands  which  the  king's  King  forbids. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  she  shall  be  a  high  and  mighty  queen. 

Q.  Eliz.  To  wail  the  title,  as  her  mother  doth. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  I  will  love  her  everlastingly. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  how  long  shall  that  title  'ever'  last?  350 

K.  Rich.  Sweetly  in  force  unto  her  fair  life's  end. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  how  long  fairly  shall  her  sweet  life  last? 

K.  Rich.  So  long  as  heaven  and  nature  lengthens  it. 

Q.  Eliz.  So  long  as  hell  and  Richard  likes  of  it. 

K.  Rich.  Say,  I,  her  sovereign,  am  her  subject  love. 

Q.  Eliz.  But  she,  your  subject,  loathes  such  sovereignty. 

K.  Rich.  Be  eloquent  in  my  behalf  to  her. 

Q.  Eliz.  An  honest  tale  speeds  best  being  plainly  told. 

K.  Rich.  Then  in  plain  terms  tell  her  my  loving  tale. 

Q.  Eliz.  Plain  and  not  honest  is  too  harsh  a  style.          360 
^    K.  Rich.  Your  reasons  are  too  shallow  and  too  quick. 

Q.  Eliz.  O  no,  my  reasons  are  too  deep  and  dead ; 
Too  deep  and  dead,  poor  infants,  in  their  grave. 


94  KIN(i    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.          [Act  IV. 

A'.  Kick.   Harp  not  on  that  string,  madam  ;  that  is  past. 

Q.  KHz.   Harp  on  it  still  shall  I  till  heart-strings  break. 

A".  Rich.  Now,  by  my  George,  my  garter,  and  my  cnvvn, — ' 

Q.  Eli*.   Profaned,  dishonoured,  and  the  third  usurp'd. 

A'.  Rich.   1  swear — 

Q.  Eliz.  By  nothing;  for  this  is  no  oath: 

The  George,  profaned,  hath  lost  his  holy  honour ; 
The  garter,  biemish'd,  pawn'd  his  knightly  virtue;  370 

The  crown,  usurp'd,  disgraced  his  kingly  glory. 
If  something  thou  wilt  swear  to  be  believed, 
Swear  then  by  something  that  thou  hast  not  wrong'd. 

A'.  Rich.  Now,  by  the  world — 

Q,.  Eliz.  'T  is  full  of  thy  foul  wrongs. 

K.  Rich.  My  father's  death— 

Q.  Eliz.  Thy  life  hath  that  dishonour'd. 

K.  Rich.  Then,  by  myself— 

Q.  Eliz.  Thyself  thyself  misusest. 

K.  Rich.  Why,  then,  by  God— 

Q.  Eliz.  God's  wrong  is  most  of  all. 

If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 
The  unity  the  king  thy  brother  made 

Had  not  been  broken,  nor  my  brother  slain  :  380 

If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 
The  imperial  metal,  circling  now  thy  brow, 
Had  graced  the  tender  temples  of  my  child, 
And  both  the  princes  had  been  breathing  here, 
Which  now,  two  tender  playfellows  for  dust, 
Thy  broken  faith  hath  made  a  prey  for  worms. 
What  canst  thou  swear  by  now? 

K.  Rich.  The  time  to  come. 

Q.  Eliz.  That  thou  hast  wronged  in  the  time  o'erpast ; 
For  I  myself  have  many  tears  to  wash 

Hereafter  time,  for  time  past  wrongM  by  thee.  390 

The  children  live,  whose  parents  thou  hast  slaughter'd, 
Ungovern'd  youth,  to  wail  it  in  their  age  ; 
The  parents  live,  whose  children  thou  hast  butcher*d, 
Old  wither'd  plants,  to  wail  it  with  their  age. 
Swear  not  by  time  to  come :  for  that  thou  hast 
Misused  ere  used,  by  time  misused  o'erpast. 

K.  Rich.  As  I  intend  to  prosper  and  repent, 
So  thrive  I  in  my  dangerous  attempt 
Of  hostile  arms  !  myself  myself  confound ! 
Heaven  and  fortune  bar  me  happy  hours!  400 

Day,  yield  me  not  thy  light ;  nor,  night,  thy  rest  1 
Be  opposite  all  planets  of  good  luck 


Scene  4-1        KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  95 

To  my  proceedings,  if,  with  pure  heart's  love, 

Immaculate  devotion,  holy  thoughts, 

I  tender  not  thy  beauteous  princely  daughter ! 

In  her  consists  my  happiness  and  thine ; 

Without  her,  follows  to  this  land  and  me, 

To  thee,  herself,  and  many  a  Christian  soul, 

Death,  desolation,  ruin  and  decay : 

It  cannot  be  avoided  but  by  this ;  410 

It  will  not  be  avoided  but  by  this. 

Therefore,  good  mother, — I  must  call  you  so — 

Be  the  attorney  of  my  love  to  her : 

Plead  what  I  will  be,  not  what  I  have  been ; 

Not  my  deserts,  but  what  I  will  deserve : 

Urge  the  necessity  and  state  of  times, 

And  be  not  peevish-fond  in  great  designs. 

Q.  Eliz.  Shall  I  be  tempted  of  the  devil  thus? 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  if  the  devil  tempt  thee  to  do  good. 

Q.  Eliz.  Shall  I  forget  myself  to  be  myself?  420 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  if  yourself's  remembrance  wrong  yourself. 

Q.  Eliz.  Shall  I  go  win  my  daughter  to  thy  will? 

K.  Rich.  And  be  a  happy  mother  by  the  deed. 

Q.  Eliz.  I  go.     Write  to  me  very  shortly, 
And  you  shall  understand  from  me  her  mind. 

K.  Rich.  Bear  her  my  true  love's  kiss ;  and  so,  farewell. 

[Exit  Queen  Elizabeth.  430 
Relenting  fool,  and  shallow,  changing  woman  ! 

Enter  RATCLIFF ;   CWESBV  following. 

How  now!  what  news? 

Rat.  My  gracious  sovereign,  on  the  western  coast 
Rideth  a  puissant  navy ;  to  the  shore 
Throng  many  doubtful  hollow-hearted  friends, 
Unarm'd,  and  unresolved  to  beat  them  back: 
'T  is  thought  that  Richmond  is  their  admiral ; 
And  there  they  hull,  expecting  but  the  aid 
Of  Buckingham  to  welcome  them  ashore. 

K.  Rich.  Some  light-foot  friend  post  to  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk :  440 
Ratcliff,  thyself,  or  Catesby;  where  is  he? 

Gate.  Here,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Fly  to  the  duke:  [To  Ratcliff'}  Post  thou  to  Salis- 
bury: 
When  thou  comest  thither, — [To   Catesby]  Dull,  unmindful 

villain, 
Why  stand'st  thou  still,  and  go'st  not  to  the  duke? 


96  KINO   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

Caff.   First,  mighty  sovereign,  let  me  know  your  mind, 
What  from  your  grace  I  shall  deliver  to  him. 

A'.  Rich.  O,  true,  good  Catesby :  bid  him  levy  straight 
The  greatest  strength  and  power  he  can  make, 
And  meet  me  presently  at  Salisbury.  450 

Gate.  I  go.  [Exit. 

Rat.  What  is't  your  highness'  pleasure  I  shall  do  at  Salis- 
bury? 

K.  Rich.  Why,  what  wouldst  thou  do  there  before  I  go? 

Rat.  Your  highness  told  me  I  should  post  before. 

K.  Rich.   My  mind  is  changed,  sir,  my  mind  is  changed. 

Enter  LORD  STANLEY. 

How  now,  what  news  with  you? 

Stan.  None  good,  my  lord,  to  please  you  with  the  hearing; 
Nor  none  so  bad,  but  it  may  well  be  told. 

K.  Rich.  Hoyday,  a  riddle!  neither  good  nor  bad!         460 
Why  dost  thou  run  so  many  mile  about, 
When  thou  mayst  tell  thy  tale  a  nearer  way? 
Once  more,  what  news? 

Stan.  Richmond  is  on  the  seas. 

K.  Rich.  There  let  him  sink,  and  be  the  seas  on  him ! 
White-liveijd  runagate,  what  doth  he  there? 

Stan.   I  know  not,  mighty  sovereign,  but  by  guess. 

K.  Rifh.  Well,  sir,  as  you  guess,  as  you  guess? 

Stan.  Stirr'd  up  by  Dorset,  Buckingham,  and  Ely, 
He  makes  for  England,  there  to  claim  the  crown. 

K.  Rich.  Is  the  chair  empty?  is  the  sword  unsway'd?     470 
Is  the  king  dead?  the  empire  unpossess'd? 
What  heir  of  York  is  there  alive  but  we? 
And  who  is  England's  king  but  great  York's  heir? 
Then,  tell  me,  what  doth  he  upon  the  sea? 

Stan.  Unless  for  that,  my  liege,  I  cannot  guess. 

K.  Rich.  Unless  for  that  he  comes  to  be  your  liege, 
You  cannot  guess  wherefore  the  Welshman  comes. 
Thou  wilt  revolt,  and  fly  to  him,  I  fear. 

Stan.  No,  mighty  liege ;  therefore  mistrust  me  not. 

K.  Rich.  Where  is  thy  power,  then,  to  beat  him  back?  480 
Where  are  thy  tenants  and  thy  followers? 
Are  they  not  now  upon  the  western  shore, 
Safe-cdnducting  the  rebels  from  their  ships? 

Stan.  No,  my  good  lord,  my  friends  are  in  the  north. 

K.  Rich.  Cold   friends   to  Richard :    what  do  they  in  the 

north, 
When  they  should  serve  their  sovereign  in  the  west? 


Scene  4.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  97 

Stan.  They  have  not  been  commanded,  mighty  sovereign : 
Please  it  your  majesty  to  give  me  leave, 
I  '11  muster  up  my  friends,  and  meet  your  grace 
Where  and  what  time  your  majesty  shall  please.  490 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  ay,  thou  wouldst  be  gone  to  join  with  Rich- 
mond ; 
I  will  not  trust  you,  sir. 

Stan.  Most  mighty  sovereign, 

You  have  no  cause  to  hold  my  friendship  doubtful: 
I  never  was  nor  never  will  be  false. 

K.  Rich.  Well, 

Go  muster  men  ;  but,  hear  you,  leave  behind 
Your  son,  George  Stanley:  look  your  faith  be  firm, 
Or  else  his  head's  assurance  is  but  frail. 
''    Stan.  So  deal  with  him  as  I  prove  true  to  you.  [Exit. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  gracious  sovereign,  now  in  Devonshire,          500 
As  I  by  friends  am  well  advertised, 
Sir  Edward  Courtney,  and  the  haughty  prelate 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  his  brother  there, 
With  many  moe  confederates,  are  in  arms. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 

Sec.  Mess.  My  liege,  in  Kent  the  Guildfords  are  in  arms; 
And  every  hour  more  competitors 
Flock  to  their  aid,  and  still  their  power  increaseth. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 


98  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.   [Act  IV.  Sc. 5. 

Enter  another  Messenger. 

Fourth  Mess.  Sir  Thomas  Lovel  and  Lord  Marquis  Dor- 
set, 520 
T  is  said,  my  liege,  in  Yorkshire  arc  in  arms. 
Yet  this  good  comfort  bring  1  to  your  grace, 
The  Breton  navy  is  dispersed  by  tempest : 
Richmond,  in  Dorsetshire,  sent  out  a  boat 
Unto  the  shore,  to  ask  those  on  the  banks 
If  they  were  his  assistants,  yea  or  no ; 
Who  answer'd  him,  they  came  from  Buckingham 
Upon  his  party:  he,  mistrusting  them, 
Hoised  sail  and  made  away  for  Brittany. 

A'.  Rich.  March  on,  march  on,  since  we  are  up  in  arms; 
If  not  to  fight  with  foreign  enemies,  531 

Yet  to  beat  down  these  rebels  here  at  home. 

Re-enter  C  AXES  BY. 

Gate.  My  liege,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  taken  ; 
That  is  the  best  news :  that  the  Earl  of  Richmond 
Is  with  a  mighty  power  landed  at  Milford, 
Is  colder  tidings,  yet  they  must  be  told. 

K.  Rich.  Away  towards  Salisbury !  while  we  reason  here, 
A  royal  battle  might  be  won  and  lost : 
Some  one  take  order  Buckingham  be  brought 
To  Salisbury ;  the  rest  march  on  with  me.  540 

[Flourish.     Exeunt. 

SCENE  V.     Lord  Derby's  house. 
Enter  DERBY  ami  SIR  CHRISTOPHER  URSWICK. 

Per.  Sir  Christopher,  tell  Richmond  this  from  me: 
That  in  the  sty  of  this  most  bloody  boar 
My  son  George  Stanley  is  frank'd  up  in  hold: 
If  I  revolt,  off  goes  young  George's  head; 
The  fear  of  that  withholds  my  present  aid. 
But,  tell  me,  where  is  princely  Richmond  now? 

Chris.  At  Pembroke,  or  at  Ha'rford-west,  in  Wales. 

Der.  What  men  of  name  resort  to  him? 

Chris.  Sir  Walter  Herbert,  a  renowned  soldier; 
Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  Sir  William  Stanley  ;  10 

Oxford,  redoubted  Pembroke,  Sir  James  Blunt, 
And  Rice  ap  Thomas,  with  a  valiant  crew ; 
And  many  moe  of  noble  fame  and  worth  : 


ActV.Sc.i.]  KING    RICHARD   THL   THIRD.  99 

And  towards  London  they  do  bend  their  course, 
If  by  the  way  they  be  not  fought  withal. 

Der.  Return  unto  thy  lord ;  commend  me  to  him : 
Tell  him  the  queen  hath  heartily  consented 
He  shall  espouse  Elizabeth  her  daughter. 
These  letters  will  resolve  him  of  my  mind. 
Farewell.  [Exeunt.  20 


ACT  V. 
SCENE  I.     Salisbury.    An  open  place. 

Enter  the  Sheriff,  and  BUCKINGHAM,  with  halberds,  led  to 
execution. 

Buck.  Will  not  King  Richard  let  me  speak  with  him? 

Sher.  No,  my  good  lord  ;  therefore  be  patient. 

Buck.  Hastings,  and  Edward's  children,  Rivers,  Grey, 
Holy  King  Henry,  and  thy  fair  son  Edward, 
Vaughan,  and  all  that  have  miscarried 
By  underhand  corrupted  foul  injustice, 
If  that  your  moody  discontented  souls 
Do  through  the  clouds  behold  this  present  hour, 
Even  for  revenge  mock  my  destruction  ! 
This  is  All-Souls'  day,  fellows,  is  it  not?  10 

Sher.  It  is,  my  lord. 

Buck.  Why,  then  All- Souls'  day  is  my  body's  doomsday. 
This  is  the  day  that,  in  King  Edward's  time, 
1  wish'd  might  fall  on  me,  when  I  was  found 
False  to  his  children  or  his  wife's  allies  ; 
This  is  the  day  wherein  I  wish'd  to  fall 
By  the  false  faith  of  him  I  trusted  most ; 
This,  this  All-Souls'  day  to  my  fearful  soul 
Is  the  determined  respite  of  my  wrongs : 
That  high  All-Seer  that  I  dallied  with  ?o 

Hath  turn'd  my  feigned  prayer  on  my  head 
And  given  in  earnest  what  I  begg'd  in  jest. 
Thus  doth  he  force  the  swords  of  wicked  men 
To  turn  their  own  points  on  their  masters'  bosoms : 
Now  Margaret's  curse  is  fallen  upon  my  head ; 
'  When  he ',  quoth  she,  '  shall  split  thy  heart  with  sorrow, 
Remember  Margaret  was  a  prophetess'. 


loo  KINV,    RICHARD  THE   THIRD.  [Act  V. 

Come,  sirs,  convey  me  to  the  block  of  shame; 
Wrong  hath  but  wrong,  and  blame  the  due  of  blame. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     The  camp  near  Tamworth. 

Enter  RICHMOND,  OXFORD,  BLUNT,  HERBERT,  and  others, 
with  drum  and  colours. 

Richm.  Fellows  in  arms,  and  my  most  loving  friends, 
Bruised  underneath  the  yoke  of  tyranny, 
Thus  far  into  the  bowels  of  the  land 
Have  we  march'd  on  without  impediment ; 
And  here  receive  we  from  our  father  Stanley 
Lines  of  fair  comfort  and  encouragement. 
The  wretched,  bloody,  and  usurping  boar, 
That  spoil'd  your  summer  fields  and  fruitful  vines, 
Swills  your  warm  blood  like  wash,  and  makes  his  trough 
In  your  embowelFd  bosoms,  this  foul  swine  10 

Lies  now  even  in  the  centre  of  this  isle, 
Near  to  the  town  of  Leicester  as  we  learn  : 
From  Tamworth  thither  is  but  one  day's  march. 
In  God's  name,  cheerly  on,  courageous  friends, 
To  reap  the  harvest  of  perpetual  peace 
By  this  one  bloody  trial  of  sharp  war. 

Oxf.  Every  man's  conscience  is  a  thousand  swords, 
To  fight  against  that  bloody  homicide. 

Herb.   I  doubt  not  but  his  friends  will  fly  to  us. 

Blunt.   He  hath  no  friends  but  who  are  friends  for  fear,  20 
Which  in  his  greatest  need  will  shrink  from  him. 

Richm.  All  for  our  vantage.    Then,  in  God's  name,  march 
True  hope  is  swift,  and  flies  with  swallow's  wings ; 
Kings  it  makes  gods,  and  meaner  creatures  kings.    [Exeunt 

SCENE  III.    Bosu-oi th  Field. 

Enter  KING  RICHARD  /'//  arms,  with  NORFOLK,  the  EARL 
OF  SURREY,  and  others. 

A'.  Rich.   Here  pitch   vour  tents,  even  here  in   Bosworth 

field. 

My  Lord  of  Surrey,  why  look  you  so  sad? 
Sur.  My  heart  is  ten  times  lighter  than  my  looks. 
K.  Rich.  My  I  ord  of  Norfolk,— 
Nor.  Here,  most  gracious  liege 


Scene  3-1        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  101 

K.  Rich.  Norfolk,  we  must  have  knocks;  ha!  must  we  not? 

Nor.  We  must  both  give  and  take,  my  gracious  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Up  with  my  tent  there !  here  will  I  lie  to-night ; 
But  where  to-morrow?     Well,  all's  one  for  that. 
Who  hath  descried  the  number  of  the  foe? 

Nor.  Six  or  seven  thousand  is  their  utmost  power.  10 

K.  Rick.   Why,  our  battalion  trebles  that  account ; 
Besides,  the  king's  name  is  a  tower  of  strength, 
Which  they  upon  the  adverse  party  want. 
Up  with  my  tent  there !     Valiant  gentlemen, 
Let  us  survey  the  vantage  of  the  field ; 
Call  for  some  men  of  sound  direction  : 
Let 's  want  no  discipline,  make  no  delay ; 
For,  lords,  to-morrow  is  a  busy  day.  \Exeunt. 


3° 


40 


102  KING    RICHARD   THK   THIRD.  [Act  V. 

Let  us  consult  upon  to-morrow's  business: 
In  to  our  tent ;  the  air  is  raw  and  cold. 

[  They  withdraw  into  the  tent. 

Enter,  to  his  tent,  KING  RICHARD,  NORFOLK,  RATCLIFF, 
CATESBY,  and  others. 

A'.  Rich.  What  is't  o'clock? 

Cate.  It's  supper-limp,  my  lord  ; 

It's  nine  o'clock. 

A'.  Rich.   I  will  not  sup  to-night. 
Give  me  some  ink  and  paper. 

What,  is  my  beaver  easier  than  it  was?  50 

And  all  my  armour  laid  into  my  tent? 

Cate.  It  is,  my  liege;  and  all  things  are  in  readiness. 

A'.  Rich.  Good  Norfolk,  hie  thee  to  thy  charge; 
Use  careful  watch,  choose  trusty  sentinels. 

Nor.   \  go,  my  lord. 

A'.  Rich.  Stir  with  the  lark  to-morrow,  gentle  Norfolk. 

Nor.   I  warrant  you,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

K.  Rich.  Catesby ! 

Cate.   My  lord? 

A'.  Rich.  Send  out  a  pursuivant  at  arms 

To  Stanley's  regiment ;  bid  him  bring  his  power  60 

Before  sunrising,  lest  his  son  George  fall 
Into  the  blind  cave  of  eternal  night.  [Exit  Catesby. 

Fill  me  a  bowl  of  wine.     Give  me  a  watch. 
Saddle  white  Surrey  for  the  field  to-morrow. 
Look  that  my  staves  be  sound,  and  not  too  heavy. 
Ratcliff! 

Rat.  My  lord? 

K.  Rich.  Saw'st   thoi»  the  melancholy  Lord    North- 

umberland? 

Rat.  Thomas  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  himself, 
Much  about  cock-shut  time,  from  troop  to  troop  70 

Went  through  the  army,  cheering  up  the  soldiers. 

K.  Rich.  So,  I  am  satisfied.     Give  me  a  bowl  of  wine : 
I  have  not  that  alacrity  of  spirit, 
Nor  cheer  of  mind,  that  I  was  wont  to  have. 
Set  it  down.     Is  ink  and  paper  ready? 

Rat.   It  is,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Bid  my  guard  watch  ;  leave  me. 

Ratcliff,  about  the  mid  of  night  come  to  my  tent 
And  help  to  arm  me.     Leave  me,  I  say. 

[Ereunt  Ratcliff' and  (he  other  Attendants. 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  103 

Enter  DERBY  to  RICHMOND  in  his  /en/,  Lords  and  others 
attending. 

Der.  Fortune  and  victory  sit  on  thy  helm ! 

Richm.  All  comfort  that  the  dark  night  can  afford  80 

Be  to  thy  person,  noble  father-in-law ! 
Tell  me,  how  fares  our  loving  mother? 

Der.  I,  by  attorney,  bless  thee  from  thy  mother, 
Who  prays  continually  for  Richmond's  good : 
So  much  for  that.     The  silent  hours  steal  on, 
And  flaky  darkness  breaks  within  the  east. 
In  brief, — for  so  the  season  bids  us  be, — 
Prepare  thy  battle  early  in  the  morning, 
And  put  thy  fortune  to  the  arbitrement 

Of  bloody  strokes  and  mortal-staring  war.  90 

I,  as  I  may — that  which  I  would  I  cannot, — 
With  best  advantage  will  deceive  the  time, 
And  aid  thee  in  this  doubtful  shock  of  arms : 
But  on  thy  side  I  may  not  be  too  forward, 
Lest,  being  seen,  thy  brother,  tender  George, 
Be  executed  in  his  father's  sight. 
Farewell :  the  leisure  and  the  fearful  time 
Cuts  off  the  ceremonious  vows  of  love 
And  ample  interchange  of  sweet  discourse, 
Which  so  long  sundered  friends  should  dwell  upon :  100 

God  give  us  leisure  for  these  rites  of  love ! 
Once  more,  adieu :  be  valiant,  and  speed  well ! 

Richm.  Good  lords,  conduct  him  to  his  regiment : 
I  '11  strive,  with  troubled  thoughts,  to  take  a  nap, 
Lest  leaden  slumber  peise  me  down  to-morrow, 
When  I  should  mount  with  wings  of  victory : 
Once  more,  good  night,  kind  lords  and  gentlemen. 

{Exeunt  all  but  Richmond. 
O  Thou,  whose  captain  I  account  myself, 
Look  on  my  forces  with  a  gracious  eye ; 

Put  in  their  hands  thy  bruising  irons  of  wrath,  Iio 

That  they  may  crush  down  with  a  heavy  fall 
The  usurping  helmets  of  our  adversaries  ! 
Make  us  thy  ministers  of  chastisement, 
That  we  may  praise  thee  in  the  victory ! 
To  thee  I  do  commend  my  watchful  soul, 
Ere  I  let  fall  the  windows  of  mine  eyes : 
Sleeping  and  waking,  O,  defend  me  still !  [Sleeps. 


104  KING    RICHARD  THK  THIRD.  [Act  V. 

Enter  the  Ghost  </ PRINCE  EDWARD,  son  to  HENRY 
the  Sixth. 

Ghost.    [  To  Richard ]    Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to- 
morrow ! 

Think,  how  thou  stab'dst  me  in  my  prime  of  youth 
At  Tewksbury :  despair,  therefore,  and  die!  120 

[To  Richmond ']   He  cheerful,   Richmond;   for  the   wronged 

souls 

Of  butcher'd  princes  fight  in  thy  behalf: 
King  Henry's  issue,  Richmond,  comforts  thee. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  HENRY  the  Sixth. 

Ghost.   [To  Richard}  When   I   was  mortal,  my  anointed 

body 

By  thee  was  punched  full  of  deadly  holes : 
Think  on  the  Tower  and  me  :  despair,  and  die  ! 
Harry  the  Sixth  bids  thee  despair  and  die! 
[To  Richmond]  Virtuous  and  holy,  be  thou  conqueror! 
Harry,  that  prophesied  thou  shouldst  be  king, 
Doth  comfort  thee  in  thy  sleep:  live,  and  flout ish!  130 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  CLARENCE. 

Ghost.   [To  Richard}   Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to- 
morrow ! 

I,  that  was  wash'd  to  death  with  fulsome  wine, 
Poor  Clarence,  by  thy  guile  betrayed  to  death ! 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 
And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword:  despair,  and  die!  — 
[To  Richmond}  Thou  offspring  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
The  wronged  heirs  of  York  do  pray  for  thee : 
Good  angels  guard  thy  battle !  live,  and  flourish  ! 

Enter  the  Ghosts  of  RIVERS,  GREY,  and  VAUGHAN. 

Ghost  of  R.  [To  Richard}  Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to 

morrow, 

Rivers,  that  died  at  Pomfret !  despair,  and  die!  140 

Ghost  of  G.  [To  Richard}  Think  upon  Grey,  and  let  thy 

soul  despair! 
Ghost  of  V.  [To  Richard}  Think  upon  Yaughan,  and,  with 

guilty  fear, 

Let  fall  thy  lance :  despair,  and  die ! 
All.  [To  Richmond}    Awake,   and   think   our   wrongs  in 

Richard's  bosom 
Will  conquer  him  !  awake,  and  win  the  day .' 


Scene  3.]        KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  105 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  HASTINGS. 

Ghost.  [To  Richard]  Bloody  and  guilty,  guiltily  awake, 
And  in  a  bloody  battle  end  thy  days! 
Think  on  Lord  Hastings :  despair,  and  die  ! 
[To  Richmond]  Quiet  untroubled  soul,  awake,  awake! 
Arm,  fight,  and  conquer,  for  fair  England's  sake !  1 50 

Enter  the  Ghosts  of  the  two  young  PRINCES. 

Ghosts.  [To  Richard]  Dream  on  thy  cousins  smother'd  in 

the  Tower: 

Let  us  be  lead  within  thy  bosom,  Richard, 
And  weigh  thee  down  to  ruin,  shame,  and  death ! 
Thy  nephews'  souls  bid  thee  despair  and  die ! 
[To  Richmond]  Sleep,  Richmond,  sleep  in  peace,  and  wake 

in  joy ; 

Good  angels  guard  thee  from  the  boar's  annoy ! 
Live,  and  beget  a  happy  race  of  kings ! 
Edward's  unhappy  sons  do  bid  thee  flourish. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  LADY  ANNE. 

Ghost.    [To  Richard]    Richard,  thy  wife,  that   wretched 

Anne  thy  wife, 

That  never  slept  a  quiet  hour  with  thee,  160 

Now  fills  thy  sleep  with  perturbations : 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 
And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword :  despair,  and  die  ! 
[To  Richmond]  Thou  quiet  soul,  sleep  thou  a  quiet  sleep; 
Dream  of  success  and  happy  victory! 
Thy  adversary's  wife  doth  pray  for  thee. 

Enter  the  Ghost  of  BUCKINGHAM. 

Ghost.     [To  Richard]  The  first  was  I  that  help'd  thee  to 

the  crown ; 

The  last  was  I  that  felt  thy  tyranny: 
O,  in  the  battle  think  on  Buckingham, 

And  die  in  terror  of  thy  guiltiness  !  170 

Dream  on,  dream  on,  of  bloody  deeds  and  death : 
Fainting,  despair ;  despairing,  yield  thy  breath ! 
[To  Richmond]  I  died  for  hope  ere  I  could  lend  thee  aid : 
But  cheer  thy  heart,  and  be  thou  not  dismay'd : 
God  and  good  angels  fight  on  Richmond's  side ; 
And  Richard  falls  in  height  of  all  his  pride. 

[The  Ghosts  vanish.     King  Richard  starts  out  of  his 

dream. 


io6  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  V. 

A'.  Kiih.  Give  me  another  horse:  bind  up  my  wounds. 
Have  mercy,  Jesu! — Soft !  I  did  but  dream. 

0  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me ! 

The  lights  burn  blue.     It  is  now  dead  midnight.  180 

Cold  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh. 

What  do  I  fear?  myself?  there's  none  else  by: 

Richard  loves  Richard ;  that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here?     No.     Yes,  I  am : 

Then  fly.     What,  from  myself?     Great  reason  why : 

Lest  I  revenge.     What,  myself  upon  myself? 

Alack,  I  love  myself.     Wherefore?  for  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself? 

O,  no !  alas,  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself !  190 

1  am  a  villain:  yet  I  lie,  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well:  fool,  do  not  flatter. 

My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 

Perjury,  perjury,  in  the  high'st  degree; 

Murder,  stern  murder,  in  the  direst  degree; 

All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree, 

Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all,  Guilty  !  guilty  ! 

I  shall  despair.     There  is  no  creature  loves  me;  200 

And  if  I  die,  no  soul  shall  pity  me: 

Nay,  wherefore  should  they,  since  that  I  myself 

Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself? 

Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murder'd 

Came  to  my  tent ;  and  every  one  did  threat 

To-morrow's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard. 

Enter  RATCLIFF. 

Rat.  My  lord ! 

K.  RicJt.     'Zounds!  who  is  there? 

Rat.  RatclitT,  my  lord;  'tis  I.     The  early  village-cock 
Hath  twice  done  salutation  to  the  morn ;  210 

Your  friends  are  up,  and  buckle  on  their  armour. 

K.  Rich.  O  Ratcliflf,  I  have  dream'd  a  fearful  dream ! 
What  thinkest  thou,  will  our  friends  prove  all  true? 

Rat.   No  doubt,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  O  Ratcliff,  I  fear,  I  fear,— 

Rat.   Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  afraid  of  shadows. 

K.  Rich.  By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 
Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers 


Scene  3.]        KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  107 

Armed  in  proof,  and  led  by  shallow  Richmond. 

It  is  not  yet  near  day.     Come,  go  with  me ;  220 

Under  our  tents  I  '11  play  the  eaves-dropper, 

To  see  if  any  mean  to  shrink  from  me.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  the  Lords  to  RICHMOND,  sitting  in  his  tent. 

Lords.  Good  morrow,  Richmond  ! 

Richm.  Cry  mercy,  lords  and  watchful  gentlemen, 
That  you  have  ta'en  a  tardy  sluggard  here. 

Lords.   How  have  you  slept,  my  lord? 

Richm.  The  sweetest  sleep,  and  fairest-boding  dreams 
That  ever  enter'd  in  a  drowsy  head, 
Have  I  since  your  departure  had,  my  lords. 
Methought  their  souls,  whose  bodies  Richard  murderM,     230 
Came  to  my  tent,  and  cried  on  victory : 
I  promise  you,  my  soul  is  very  jocund 
In  the  remembrance  of  so  fair  a  dream. 
How  far  into  the  morning  is  it,  lords? 

Lords.  Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

Richm.  Why,  then  't  is  time  to  arm  and  give  direction. 

His  oration  to  his  Soldiers. 

More  than  I  have  said,  loving  countrymen, 

The  leisure  and  enforcement  of  the  time 

Forbids  to  dwell  upon :  yet  remember  this, 

God  and  our  good  cause  fight  upon  our  side ;  240 

The  prayers  of  holy  saints  and  wronged  souls, 

Like  high-rear5  d  bulwarks,  stand  before  our  faces ; 

Richard  except,  those  whom  we  fight  against 

Had  rather  have  us  win  than  him  they  follow : 

For  what  is  he  they  follow?  truly,  gentlemen, 

A  bloody  tyrant  and  a  homicide ; 

One  raised  in  blood,  and  one  in  blood  establish'd ; 

One  that  made  means  to  come  by  what  he  hath, 

And  slaughtered  those  that  were  the  means  to  help  him ; 

A.  base  foul  stone,  made  precious  by  the  foil  250 

Of  England's  chair,  where  he  is  falsely  set : 

One  that  hath  ever  been  God's  enemy : 

Then,  if  you  fight  against  God's  enemy, 

God  will  in  justice  ward  you  as  his  soldiers ; 

If  you  do  sweat  to  put  a  tyrant  down, 

You  sleep  in  peace,  the  tyrant  being  slain ; 

If  you  do  fight  against  your  country's  foes, 

Your  country's  fat  shall  pay  your  pains  the  hire ; 

If  you  do  fight  in  safeguard  of  your  wives, 


io8  KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  V. 

Your  wives  shall  welcome  home  the  conquerors;  260 

If  you  do  free  your  children  from  the  sword, 

Your  children's  children  quit  it  in  your  age. 

Then,  in  the  name  of  (iod  and  all  these  rights, 

Advance  your  standards,  draw  your  willing  swords: 

For  me,  the  ransom  of  my  bold  attempt 

Shall  be  this  cold  corpse  on  the  earth's  cold  face ; 

But  if  I  thrive,  the  gain  of  my  attempt 

The  least  of  you  shall  share  his  part  thereof. 

Sound  drums  and  trumpets  boldly  and  cheerfully ; 

God  and  St.  (Jeorge !  Richmond  and  victory !     {Exeunt.  270 

Re-enter  KING  RICHARD,  RATCLIFF,  Attendants  and  tones. 

K.  Rich.  What  said    Northumberland  as  touching    Rich- 
mond? 

Rat.  That  he  was  never  trained  up  in  arms. 

K.  Rich,   He  said  the  truth  :  and  what  said  Surrey  then? 

Rat.   He  smiled  and  said  'The  better  for  our  purpose'. 

K.  Rich.   He  was  in  the  right ;  and  so  indeed  it  is. 

[Clock  striketh. 

Tell  the  clock  there.     Give  me  a  calendar. 
Who  saw  the  sun  to-day? 

Rat.  Not  I,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  Then  he  disdains  to  shine ;  for  by  the  book 
He  should  have  braved  the  east  an  hour  ago: 
A  black  day  will  it  be  to  somebody.  280 

Ratcliff! 

Rat.  My  lord 

K.  Rich.  The  sun  will  not  be  seen  to-day ; 

The  sky  doth  frown  and  lour  upon  our  army. 
I  would  these  dewy  tears  -.vere  from  the  ground. 
Not  shine  to-day!     Why,  what  is  that  to  me 
More  than  to  Richmond?  for  the  selfsame  heaven 
That  frowns  on  me  looks  sadly  upon  him. 

Enter  NORFOLK. 

Nor.  Arm,  arm,  my  lord  :  the  foe  vaunts  in  the  field. 

K.  Rich.  Come,  bustle,  bustle;  caparison  my  horse. 
Call  up  Lord  Stanley,  bid  him  bring  his  power:  290 

I  will  lead  forth  my  soldiers  to  the  plain, 
And  thus  my  battle  shall  be  ordered : 
My  foreward  shall  be  drawn  out  all  in  length. 
Consisting  equally  of  horse  and  foot : 
Our  archers  shall  be  placed  in  the  midst : 
John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Earl  of  Surrey, 


Scene  3.]         KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  10$ 

Shall  have  the  leading  of  this  foot  and  horse. 

They  thus  directed,  we  will  follow 

In  the  main  battle,  whose  puissance  on  either  side 

Shall  be  well  winged  with  our  chiefest  horse.  300 

This,  and  Saint  George  to  boot !    What  think'st  thou,  Norfolk? 

Nor.  A  good  direction,  warlike  sovereign. 
This  found  I  on  my  tent  this  morning. 

[He  sheweth  him  a  paper. 

K.  Rick.  [Reads}  'Jockey  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold, 
For  Dickon  thy  master  is  bought  and  sold.' 
A  thing  devised  by  the  enemy. 
Go,  gentlemen,  every  man  unto  his  charge : 
Let  not  our  babbling  dreams  affright  our  souls: 
Conscience  is  but  a  word  that  cowards  use, 
Devised  at  first  to  keep  the  strong  in  awe :  310 

Our  strong  arms  be  our  conscience,  swords  our  law. 
March  on,  join  bravely,  let  us  to't  pell-mell; 
If  not  to  heaven,  then  hand  in  hand  to  hell. 

His  oration  to  his  Army. 

What  shall  I  say  more  than  I  have  inferr'd? 

Remember  whom  you  are  to  cope  withal ; 

A  sort  of  vagabonds,  rascals,  and  runaways, 

A  scum  of  Bretons,  and  base  lackey  peasants, 

Whom  their  o'er-cloyed  country  vomits  forth 

To  desperate  ventures  and  assured  destruction. 

You  sleeping  safe,  they  bring  to  you  unrest ;  320 

You  having  lands,  and  blest  with  beauteous  wives. 

They  would  restrain  the  one,  distain  the  other. 

And  who  doth  lead  them  but  a  paltry  fellow, 

Long  kept  in  Bretagne  at  our  mother's  cost? 

A  milk-sop,  one  that  never  in  his  life 

Felt  so  much  cold  as  over  shoes  in  snow? 

Let 's  whip  these  stragglers  o'er  the  seas  again ; 

Lash  hence  these  overweening  rags  of  France, 

These  famish'd  beggars,  weary  of  their  lives  ; 

Who,  but  for  dreaming  on  this  fond  exploit,  330 

For  want  of  means,  poor  rats,  had  hang'd  themselves : 

If  we  be  conquerM,  let  men  conquer  us, 

And  not  these  bastard  Bretons  ;  whom  our  fathers 

Have  in  their  own  land  beaten,  bobb'd,  and  thump'd, 

And  in  rec6rd,  left  them  the  heirs  of  shame. 

Shall  these  enjoy  our  lands?   [Drum  afar  off^\    Hark!  I  hear 

their  drum. 
Fight,  gentlemen  of  England!  fight,  bold  yeomen  ! 


no  KINL;  RICHARD  THK  THIRD.        [Act  v 

Draw,  archers,  draw  your  arrows  to  the  head ! 

Spur  your  proud  horses  hard,  and  ride  in  blood;  340 

Amjwe  the  welkin  with  your  broken  staves! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

What  says  Lord  Stanley?  will  he  bring  his  power? 

Mess.  My  lord,  he  doth  deny  to  come. 

K.  Rich.  Off  with  his  son  George's  head  ! 

Nor.  My  lord,  the  enemy  is  past  the  marsh : 
After  the  battle  let  George  Stanley  die. 

K.  Rich.  A  thousand  hearts  are  great  within  my  bosom: 
Advance  our  standards,  set  upon  our  foes ; 
Our  ancient  word  of  courage,  fair  Saint  George, 
Inspire  us  with  the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons!  350 

Upon  them!     Victory  sits  on  our  helms.  \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     Another  part  of  the  field. 

Alarum:  excursions.      Enter  NORFOLK  and  forces  fighting; 
to  him  CATESBY. 

Gate.  Rescue,  my  Lord  of  Norfolk,  rescue,  rescue! 
The  king  enacts  more  wonders  than  a  man, 
Daring  an  opposite  to  every  danger: 
His  horse  is  slain,  and  all  on  foot  he  fights, 
Seeking  for  Richmond  in  the  throat  of  death. 
Rescue,  fair  lord,  or  else  the  day  is  lost! 

Alarums.     Enter  KING  RICHARD. 

K.  Rich.  A  horse !  a  horse  !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse ! 

Cate.  Withdraw,  my  lord ;   I  '11  help  you  to  a  horse. 

K.  Rich.  Slave,  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast, 
And  I  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die  :  10 

I  think  there  be  six  Richmonds  in  the  field  ; 
Five  have  I  slain  to-day  instead  of  him. 
Ahorse!  ahorse!  my  kingdom  for  a  horse!  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  V.     Another  part  of  the  field. 

Alarum.  Enter  RICHARD  and  RICHMOND;  thty  fight. 
RICHARD  is  slain.  Retreat  and  flourish.  Re-enter 
RICHMOND,  DERBY  bearing  the  crown,  with  divers  other 
Lords. 

Richm.  God  and  your  arms  be  praised,  victorious  friends; 
The  day  is  ours,  the  bloody  dog  is  dead. 


Scene  5.]        KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  Ill 

Der.  Courageous  Richmond,  well  hast  thou  acquit  thee. 
Lo,  here,  this  long-usurped  royalty 
From  the  dead  temples  of  this  bloody  wretch 
Have  I  pluck'd  off,  to  grace  thy  brows  withal : 
Wear  it,  enjoy  it,  and  make  much  of  it. 

Richm.  Great  God  of  heaven,  say  Amen  to  all ! 
But,  tell  me,  is  young  George  Stanley  living? 

Der.   He  is,  my  lord,  and  safe  in  Leicester  town  ;  IO 

Whither,  if  it  please  you,  we  may  now  withdraw  us. 

Richm.  What  men  of  name  are  slain  on  either  side? 

Der.  John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Walter  Lord  Ferrers, 
Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  and  Sir  William  .Brandon. 

Richm.  Inter  their  bodies  as  becomes  their  births: 
Proclaim  a  pardon  to  the  soldiers  fled 
That  in  submission  will  return  to  us: 
And  then,  as  we  have  ta'en  the  sacrament, 
We  will  unite  the  white  rose  and  the  red : 
Smile  heaven  upon  this  fair  conjunction,  20 

That  long  have  frown'd  upon  their  enmity  1 
What  traitor  hears  me,  and  says  not  amen? 
England  hath  long  been  mad,  and  scarr'd  herself; 
The  brother  blindly  shed  the  brother's  blood, 
The  father  rashly  slaughter'd  his  own  son. 
The  son,  compell'd,  been  butcher  to  the  sire : 
All  this  divided  York  and  Lancaster, 
Divided  in  their  dire  division, 
O,  now,  let  Richmond  and  Elizabeth, 

The  true  succeeders  of  each  royal  house,  3° 

By  God's  fair  ordinance  conjoin  together ! 
And  let  their  heirs,  God,  if  thy  will  be  so, 
Enrich  the  time  to  come  with  smooth-faced  peace, 
With  smiling  plenty  and  fair  prosperous  days ! 
Abate  the  edge  of  traitors,  gracious  Lord, 
That  would  reduce  these  bloody  days  again, 
And  make  poor  England  weep  in  streams  of  blood ! 
Let  them  not  live  to  taste  this  land's  increase 
That  would  with  treason  wound  this  fair  land's  peace ! 
Now  civil  wounds  are  stopp'd,  peace  lives  again:  40 

That  she  may  long  live  here,  God  say  amen !  {Exeunt. 


NOTES. 


In  the  Appentiix  on  Prosody  an  attempt  has  keen  made  to  disma 
all  lines  presenting  any  important  metrical  peculiarity .  A  separate 
index  of  such  lines  has  been  compiled  (pp.  200-2),  and,  in  view  of 
this,  comparatively  few  references  to  Metrical  difficulties  will  be  found 
in  the  Notes. 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS. 

As  was  pointed  out  in  the  Introduction,  Shakespeare,  while  allow- 
ing himself  great  latitude  in  matters  of  chronology,  has  in  other 
respects  adhered  pretty  faithfully  to  the  narrative  of  his  historical 
authorities.  The  following  brief  summary  indicates  the  main  facts 
to  lie  borne  in  mind  by  readers  of  Richard  III. 

When  Edward  III.  died  in  1377,  he  was  succeeded  by  his  grand- 
son, Richard  II.,  son  of  the  Black  Prince.  Richard  proved  weak 
and  incompetent,  and  in  1399  was  easily  overthrown  by  his  cousin, 
Henry  of  Lancaster,  eldest  son  of  John  of  daunt,  who  again  had 
been  the  fourth  son  of  Kdward  III.  The  victor,  who  took  the  title 
of  Henry  IV.,  reigned  until  his  death  in  1413.  He  was  succeeded 
by  his  eldest  son,  Henry  V.,  whose  brilliant  reign  was  cut  short  by 
his  early  death  in  1422.  Henry  V.'s  only  child,  Henry  VI.,  who 
now  became  king,  was  a  mere  infant  when  his  father  died.  In  the 
latter  part  of  his  long  reign  (1422-1461)  the  Wars  of  the  Roses 
commenced,  the  standard  of  revolt  being  raised  in  1455  ty  Richard 
I'lantagenet,  Duke  of  York.  York  was  a  man  of  much  more  charac- 
ter and  ability  than  Henry,  and  he  l>ased  his  claim  to  the  throne  on 
hereditary  right,  inasmuch  as  he  was  descended  both  from  the  third 
and  from  the  fifth  son  of  Edward  III.,  while  his  rival  was  descended 
only  from  the  fourth.  At  first  the  Yorkists  carried  all  before  them, 
but  in  1460  the  Lancastrians  won  a  victory  at  Wakefield,  where  York 
himself  was  slain,  while  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Rutland,  was  cruelly 
murdered  after  the  l»ttle. 

King  Edward  /V.,  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  of  York,  now  became 
head  of  the  Yorkist  party.  He  was  at  this  time  a  mere  youth, 
having  Iwen  lx>rn  in  1442.  A  victory  at  Mortimer's  Cross  in  1461, 
even  though  followed  almost  immediately  by  a  Yorkist  defeat  at  St. 
Alban's  ("  Margaret's  battle"),  led  to  his  l>eing  offered  the  crown, 
and  on  March  4th  of  that  year  he  assumed  the  title  of  king.  The 
strife,  however,  still  continued,  and  it  was  not  until  1471  that  the 
Lancastrians  werj:  finally  crushed  at  Tewkesbury.  In  this  last  battle 


NOTES.  113 

Prince  Edward,  only  child  of  Henry  VI.,  was  killed,  and  shortly 
afterwards  Henry  himself  was  murdered  in  the  Tower.  Henceforth 
Edward  reigned  as  an  absolute  monarch  till  his  death  in  April,  1483. 

Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards  King  Edward  V.,  was 
born  in  the  Sanctuary,  Westminster,  4th  November,  1470,  at  a 
very  critical  period  in  the  history  of  his  father,  who  had  just  been 
compelled  to  fly  from  his  kingdom  owing  to  a  formidable  rebellion 
headed  by  Warwick,  the  King  Maker.  After  his  fathers  death  in 
1483,  young  Edward  was  proclaimed  king.  But  the  council  which 
decided  on  this  step  was  rent  by  very  serious  divisions.  Glou- 
cester, the  new  king's  uncle,  treacherously  seized  Earl  Rivers  and 
Lord  Grey,  the  most  prominent  members  of  the  party  to  which 
Edward  II I. 's  widow  belonged.  At  the  same  time  he  got  his 
nephew  into  his  power.  The  widowed  queen,  with  the  rest  of  her 
children,  took  sanctuary  at  Westminster.  This  was  on  1st  May. 
Three  days  later  Gloucester  brought  his  nephew,  who  was  now  little 
more  than  a  prisoner,  into  London,  when  he  was  lodged  in  the 
Tower,  and  his  uncle  appointed  Protector.  On  June  26th  Richard 
took  his  seat  on  the  throne  in  Westminster  Hall,  having  virtually 
elected  himself  king,  and  on  6th  July  following  he  was  crowned. 
Soon  afterwards  young  Edward  was  murdered  in  his  prison. 

Richard,  Duke  of  York,  second  son  of  Edward  IV.,  was  born 
in  1474.  It  is  pretty  certain  that  he  shared  the  fate  of  his  brother; 
in  the  Tower,  although  the  bodies  were  never  found  (see  note  on 
iv.  3.  29  f. ).  But  for  a  long  time  some  doubt  existed  as  to  his 
death,  and  it  was  he  who  was  afterwards  personated  by  Perkin 
Warbeck. 

George,  Duke  of  Clarence,  a  younger  brother  of  Edward  IV. ,  was 
born  in  1449.  He  married  Isabella  Neville,  the  eldest  daughter  of 
the  King  Maker  and  the  sister  of  Lady  Anne  who  appears  in  this 
play.  His  connection  with  Warwick  was  no  doubt  partly  respon- 
sible for  the  vacillating  and  discreditable  part  played  by  Clarence  in 
the  Wars  of  the  Roses  (i.  4.  208  ff.).  His  wife  died  in  1476.  Two 
years  later  he  was  himself  impeached,  on  the  charge  of  high  treason, 
before  the  House  of  Lords.  A  very  plausible  indictment  was  framed 
against  him,  in  which  he  was  accused  of  aiming  at  the  next  succession 
to  the  crown  by  underhand  means.  He  was  condemned  and  put  to 
death  in  the  Tower  (1478).  The  story  that  he  was  drowned  in  a, 
malmsey-butt  is  not  properly  authenticated ;  nor  is  it  certain  that  his 
end  was  in  any  way  due  to  Richard's  intrigues. 

Richard,  Duke  of  Glozicester,  afterwards  King  Richard  III., 
another  brother  of  Edward  IV.,  was  born  in  1452.  The  manner  in 
which  he  made  his  way  to  the  throne  has  already  been  hinted  at, 
and  it  will  be  found  set  forth  in  detail  in  the  play.  In  spite  of 
his  cruelty  he  was  an  able  soldier  and  a  capable  statesman.  He 
reigned  for  only  two  years,  being  killed  at  the  battle  of  Bosworth  in; 
August,  1485. 

H 


114  KI\<;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

A  youns?  son  of  Clarenff.  This  was  Edward  I'lantagenet.  Earl 
of  NVarwick,  the  strength  cif  whose  hereditary  claim  to  the  crown 
roused  the  jealousy  first  of  his  uncle,  Richard  III.,  and  then  of 
Henry  VII.  He  sprat  a  large  part  of  his  life  in  prison,  and  was 
ultimately  beheaded  by  Henry  in  1499.  In  1487  he  was  personated 
by  Lambert  Simnel. 

Henry ;  Earl  of  Kichtnond,  afterwards  King  Henry  I'll.,  the 
grandson  of  Owen  Tudor  and  Katharine,  widow  of  Henry  V.,  was 
descended  on  the  mother's  side  from  John  of  (iaunt  (see  note  on  i. 
3.  2O),  and  so  claimed  the  crown  as  representative  of  the  House  of 
I-ancaster.  He  had  been  l><>rn  in  1457,  and  had  spent  most  of  his 
early  life  as  a  refugee  at  the  court  of  Brittany.  After  his  victory  at 
Bosworth  in  1485  he  was  crowned  king,  and  a  few  months  later 
he  married  Elizabeth,  daughter  ot  Edward  IV.  and  heiress  of  the 
House  of  Vork,  a  union  which  ended  the  struggle  l>etwcen  the 
rival  Roses.  He  reigned  till  his  death  in  1509.  It  is  difficult  to 
recognize  the  able  and  unscrupulous  Henry  VII.  of  history  in  Shake- 
speare's Richmond,  a  brave  and  chivalrous,  if  somewhat  colourless 
and  uninteresting,  hero. 

Cardinal  Bounhier,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  l>ecanie  I'riiuate 
in  1454,  and  died  in  1486.  It  fell  to  him  to  crown  three  kings — 
Edward  IV.,  Richard  III.,  and  Henry  VII.,  and  it  was  he  who 
married  Henry  VII.  to  Elizabeth  of  Vork. 

Thomas  Kotherham,  Archbishop  of  York,  was  at  one  time  a  fellow 
of  King's  College,  Cambridge.  He  is  buried  in  the  Minster  at  York. 

John  Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely  (1420?- 1 500),  at  one  time  a  member 
of  Balliol  College,  Oxford,  was  an  active  promoter  of  the  rebellions 
against  Richard  III.,  who  evidently  regarded  him  as  a  dangerous 
foe  (iv.  3.  49).  After  the  victory  of  Bosworth  he  became  one  of 
the  most  influential  men  in  England,  l>eing  promoted  to  the  see  of 
Canterbury  in  1486,  and  made  Lord  Chancellor  in  the  following 
year.  He  was  the  trusted  counsellor  of  Henry  VII.,  and  materially 
aided  him  in  devising  means  of  extortion.  His  connection  with  Sir 
Thomas  More  has  been  alluded  to  in  the  Introduction  (p.  II). 

Duke  of  Buckingham.  This  was  Henry  Stafford,  who,  lieing 
descended  through  the  female  line  from  the  sixth  son  of  Edward  Ill- 
was  the  nearest  heir  to  the  crown  after  Richmond.  It  was  chiefly 
through  his  influence  and  active  co-operation  that  Richard  was 
able  to  usurp  the  throne.  Even  t>efore  the  coronation,  however,  ill- 
feeling  seems  to  have  arisen  between  them,  and  after  the  murder 
of  the  young  princes  Buckingham  decided  to  support  Richmond's 
claims.  In  1483  he  headed  an  alwrtive  rel>ellion,  and  was  after- 
wards betrayed  to  Richard  and  promptly  executed. 

Duke  of  Norfolk.  This  was  Sir  John  Howard,  who  had  held 
many  important  posts  under  Edward  IV.,  but  who  afterward*  trans- 
ferred his  allegiance  from  Edward  V.  to  the  usurper  Richard  III. 


NOTES.  IIS 

He  proved  faithful  to  his  new  master,  and  fell  by  Richard's  side  at 
the  Battle  of  Bosworth. 

Earl  »f  Surrey,  son  of  the  preceding,  led  Richard's  archers  at 
Bosworth.  After  Henry  VII. 's  accession  Surrey  was  imprisoned  in 
the  Tower  for  three  and  a  half  years,  but  was  subsequently  restored 
to  his  title  and  his  lands.  It  was  he  who  commanded  the  English 
army  at  Flodden  (1513). 

Earl  Rivers,  brother  to  Elizabeth.  This  was  Antony  Woodville, 
Lord  Scales.  He  was  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  his  time,  and 
a  patron  of  Caxton.  The  circumstances  that  led  to  his  execution  are 
fully  explained  in  the  play. 

Marquis  of  Dorset,  son  to  Elizabeth,  the  eldest  of  Edward  IV.'s 
stepsons,  narrowly  escaped  death  when  his  brother  and  his  uncle 
Rivers  were  seized  and  beheaded.  He  took  sanctuary  at  this  time 
and  subsequently  made  his  escape  to  Brittany.  He  returned  to 
England  after  the  battle  of  Bosworth,  but  never  played  any  consider- 
able part  in  history.  He  was  an  ancestor  of  Lady  Jane  Grey. 

Lord  Grey,  son  to  Elizabeth.  This  was  Lord  Richard  Grey.  The 
play  tells  how  he  shared  his  uncle's  fate. 

Earl  of  Oxford.  This  was  John  de  Vere,  who  held  an  important 
command  on  the  Lancastrian  side  at  the  battle  of  Barnet  (1471). 
He  surrendered  to  Edward  IV.  in  1473,  and  was  imprisoned  for 
twelve  years  in  a  castle  in  Picardy.  In  1485  he  succeeded  in  escap- 
ing, joined  Richmond,  and  led  the  vanguard  of  the  Lancastrian 
army  at  Bosworth.  He  died  in  1513. 

Lord  Hastings  was  a  faithful  adherent  of  the  House  of  York. 
Although  he  appears  to  have  been  on  bad  terms  with  the  relatives 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  yet  on  the  death  of  Edward  IV.  he  refused  to 
allow  Edward  V.  to  be  thrust  aside.  Richard  had  him  executed, 
without  any  form  of  trial,  on  June  I3th,  1483. 

Lord  Stanley,  called  also  Earl  of  Derby.  This  was  Thomas 
Stanley  who  was  Steward  of  the  Household  to  Edward  IV.  He 
married  (i)  Helena  Neville,  a  sister  of  the  King  Maker;  (2)  the 
Countess  Richmond,  mother  of  Henry  VII.  (see  note  on  i.  3.  20). 
Richard  seems  to  have  distrusted  him  deeply,  but  he  never  took 
active  measures  against  him.  The  part  played  by  Stanley  at  Bos- 
worth is  described  in  Act  v. 

Lord  Lovel,  a  strong  partisan  of  Richard  III.  and  afterwards  a 
supporter  of  Lambert  Simnel,  was  a  person  of  some  importance 
during  Richard's  reign.  He  (with  Catesby  and  Ratcliff)  was  attacked 
in  the  lampoon  of  Collingbourne,  which  begins: — 

"  The  Cat,  the  Rat,  and  Lovel  our  Dog, 
Doe  rule  all  England,  under  the  Hog  ". 

•  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  a  constant  and  faithful  attendant  on  Edward 
V.  almost  from  his  infancy,  was  executed  at  Pomfret  by  Richard's 
orders. 


116  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Sir  Kifhiifd  Kate/iff,  one  of  Richard's  most  trusted  instruments, 
fell  by  hi.s  master's  side  at  Uosworth. 

Sir  H'i/liam  Catesby,  who  was  really  only  an  esquire  of  the  body, 
never  a  knight,  held  several  important  offices  under  Richard,  includ- 
ing the  S|>eakership  in  Richard's  only  Parliament.  It  is  probable 
that  he  was  executed  after  the  Ijattle  of  Hos worth.  It  was  one  of  his 
descendants  who  was  a  leader  in  the  Gun|x>wdcr  Plot. 

Sir  James  Tyrrel  was  afterwards  a  supporter  of  i'erkin  Warbeck. 
He  was  arrested  for  his  treason,  and  confessed  that  both  the  princes 
had  been  murdered  in  1483.  He  was  executed  in  1502. 

ford  Mayor  of  London.  This  was  Kdmund  Shaw,  Lord  Mayor 
in  1483.  In  the  Chronicle  his  brother,  Doctor  Shaw,  figures  as 
preaching  at  St.  Paul's  Cross  a  sermon  in  which  the  children  of 
Edward  IV.,  as  well  as  Edward  himself,  were  denounced  as  illegiti- 
mate, his  text  being  "Bastard  plants  shall  take  no  deep  root,  nor  lay 
any  fast  foundation"  {Wisdom  of  Solomon,  iv.  3). 

Elizabeth,  queen  to  King  Edward  II'.,  was  l>orn  in  1437.  She 
became  the  wife  of  Sir  John  drey,  who  died  of  wounds  received  at 
St.  Albans  (see  note  on  i.  3.  128)  in  1461.  In  1464  Edward  married 
her  in  spite  of  the  strong  opposition  of  his  mother  (see  on  iii.  7.  189). 
After  the  death  of  her  husband  and  the  passing  of  an  Act  declaring 
her  children  illegitimate,  she  opened  negotiations  with  Richmond, 
but  subsequently  accepted  Richard's  protection.  Finally  she  retired 
to  Bermondsey,  where  she  died  in  1492. 

Margaret,  widow  of  King  Henry  VI.,  was  the  daughter  of  Rene, 
Duke  of  Anjou.  She  was  married  to  I  lenry  VI.  in  1445.  Being  a 
woman  of  great  energy  and  ability  she  was  for  many  years  the  real 
head  of  the  Lancastrian  party.  After  the  decisive  defeat  of  Tewkes- 
bury  (1471)  she  was  captured,  and  remained  a  prisoner  till  1476. 
In  that  year  she  was  ransomed  for  50,000  gold  crowns,  and  returned 
to  France.  She  died  in  1482,  and  her  appearances  in  this  play  are 
therefore  quite  unhistorical  (see  Introduction,  p.  12). 

Duchess  of  York,  mother  to  King  Ed-ward  II'.,  died  in  1495. 
Her  age  is  purposely  exaggerated  in  the  play  (see  note  on  iv.  I.  96). 

Lady  Anne.  This  was  Anne  Neville,  youngest  daughter  of  the 
King  Maker.  She  was  born  in  1456,  and  in  1470  she  was  betrothed 
to  Edward,  eldest  son  of  Henry  VI.  The  marriage  was  never 
actually  solemnized  (see  note  on  i.  i.  154),  and  Edward  was  killed 
at  Tewkesbury  in  the  following  year.  Anne  subsequently  married 
Richard  (1473),  wno  's  s*^  to  have  been  attached  to  her  in  early 
life.  She  had  one  son,  who  died  at  the  age  of  ten  (1484),  after  he 
had  been  created  Prince  of  Wales.  She  only  survived  her  l>ereave- 
ment  a  few  months,  dying  in  1485.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  Richard  made  away  with  her,  as  is  suggested  by  Shakespeare. 
But  he  certainly  lost  no  time  in  seeking  another  wife  (iv.  4). 

A  young  Daughter  of  Clarence.     See  note  on  iv.  3.  37. 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.]  NOTES.  117 

Act  I.— Scene  I. 

This  scene  does  more  than  merely  start  the  action.  It  is  at  once 
a  guide  to  the  course  the  play  is  to  take,  and  an  epitome  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  principal  figure.  In  the  soliloquies  we  are  frankly  let 
into  the  secret  of  Richard's  designs,  and  are  shown  what  manner  of 
man  he  is — bold  in  action,  unscrupulous,  a  stranger  to  ordinary 
human  sympathy ;  in  the  interviews  with  Clarence  and  with  Hastings 
we  see  the  means  by  which  he  is  to  work  out  his  ends — above  all, 
his  hypocrisy  and  his  consummate  power  of  dissimulation.  The 
simplicity  of  this  method  of  opening  is  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
general  character  of  the  play :  Shakespeare  had  not  yet  reached  the 
fulness  of  his  powers.  It  should  be  compared  with  the  more  artistic 
methods  employed  in  beginning  the  greater  dramas. 

1.  Now:  i.e.  after  the  Battle  of  Tewkesbury,  and  the  murder  of 
Henry  VI. 

2.  sun  of  York:  an  allusion  to  Edward  IV.'s  device  of  a  blazing 
sun.     For  the  obvious  word-play  cf.  i.  3.  266-7. 

6.  bruised  :  pronounced  here  bruis-ed,     Richard  III.  is  remark- 
able for  the  number  of  cases  in  which  the  metre  requires  us  to  give 
syllabic  value  to  the  -ed  of  a  past  indicative  or  past  participle,  that 
is  not  usually  sounded  as  a  separate  syllable.     The  ear  is  a  safe 
guide. 

monuments,  memorials.  So  in  Lucrece  (1.  798),  "  tears"  and 
"groans"  are  called  "poor  wasting  monuments  of  lasting  moans". 
Notice  how  many  words  in  this  and  the  two  following  lines  begin 
with  the  letter  m.  Such  alliteration  is  common  in  the  play. 

7.  alarums.     See  Glossary. 

8.  measures:  either  'dances'  or  'music  for  dances'.     Observe 
the  twofold  alliteration  in  this  line. 

g.  front,  forehead. 

10.   barbed,  armed  for  battle  (of  horses).     See  Glossary. 

12.  He,  i.e.   "  grim-visaged  war".     Probably,  however,  there  is 
an  indirect  allusion  to  the  "evil  diet"  of  the  king,  which  is  openly 
spoken  of  in  11.  73  ff.  and  139  ff. 

13.  pleasing:  used  here  in  the  sense  of  '  good  pleasure',  '  will'. 

14.  Observe  how  Richard  dwells  upon  his  personal  deformity  and 
seeks  in  it  a  justification  for  the  line  of  action  he  is  going  to  adopt. 
Cf.  Third  Part  of  Henry  VI.  (\:  6.  78)— 

"  Then,  since  the  heavens  have  shaped  my  body  so, 

Let  hell  make  crook'd  my  mind  to  answer  it". 
According  to  Holinshed,  Richard  was  "lille  of  stature,  ill-featured 
of  limmes,  crooke  backed,  his  left  shoulder  much  higher  than  his 
right,  hard  favoured  of  visage".  There  is  good  reason  to  believe 
that  much  of  this  description  is  Lancastrian  exaggeration.  (Cf. 
Introduction,  p.  II.) 


Il8  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  Act  I.] 

15.  amorous  looking-glass.      Schmidt  explains  this  to  mean 
"a  l<v>king-glass  which  reflects  a  fare  fond  of  itself".      But  perhaps 
the  phrase  will  hardly  l.«-:ir  such  definite  analysis.      Rather  it  is  one 
of  those  cases — not  uncommon  in  Shakes|>eare — in  which  the  influ- 
ence of  the  adjective,  instead  of  being  confined  to  \he  word  it  qualifies 
grammatically,   makes  itself  felt  throughout    the  sentence.      Other 
instances  in  the  play  are,  "  Some  patient  leisure"  (i.  2.  82);  "  I  lay 
unto  the  grievous  charge  of  others"  (i.  3.   326).      There  is  a  good 
example  in  .Macbeth,  i.  3.  155- 

' '  let  us  s|>eak 
Our  free  hearts  each  to  other''. 

16.  stamp'd.     The  metaphor  is  prolnbly  from  striking  a  coin. 
See  on  i.  3.  256. 

love's  majesty:  the  dignity  of  l>earing  that   the   "nymph" 
would  look  for  in  her  lover. 

17.  ambling.      'Amble'  is  used  in  the  first  instance  of  the  easy 
gait  (antbulare)  of  a  horse  or  mule;  then  it  comes  to  mean  '  to  walk 
in  an  affected  way'. 

18.  this,  i.e.  the  "proportion"  that  is  required  for  success  in  such 
affairs. 

19.  feature.     See  Glossary. 

dissembling,  deceitful,  fraudulent.      Cf.  i.  2.  185;  ii.  2.  31. 

21.  breathing  world,  world  of  life. 

22.  unfashionable.     When  two  adverbs  are  closely  united,  it  is 
not  uncommon  to  find  the  termination  of  one  of  them  omitted.     Cf. 
iii.  4.  50. 

23.  halt,  limp. 

24.  piping  time.      "The  spirit  stirring  drum"  and    "the  ear- 
piercing  fife''  were  appropriate  to  war  (Othello,  iii.  3.  352);  the  tabor 
and  the  pipe  to  peace  (AfucA  Aiio,  ii.  3.  15). 

27.   descant:  here  used  in  its  ordinary  sense.     But  see  Glossary. 

29.   entertain.     See  Glossary. 

well-spoken  days,  days  when  fair  speeches  and  smooth  words 
were  in  vogue. 

32  ff.  There  is  no  reliable  evidence  that  Richard  was  responsible 
for  the  quarrel  between  the  King  and  Clarence.  Holinshed  lays  the 
whole  blame  upon  Edward's  jealousy.  He  says,  indeed,  that  "some 
wise  men  also  weene "  that  Richard's  policy  "lacked  not  in  helping 
fcxirth  his  brother  of  Clarence  to  his  death  " :  but  immediately  adds 
that  "  of  all  this  point  is  there  no  certeintie,  and  whoso  divineth 
upon  conjectures,  may  as  well  shoot  too  farre  as  too  short  ".  This, 
then,  is  one  of  the  matters  in  which  Shakespeare  goes  beyond  his 
authorities.  (Cf.  Introduction,  p.  12.)  And  the  dramatic  motive  is 
obvious.  To  make  the  death  of  Clarence  part  of  Richard's  scheme 
for  gaining  the  crown  was  a  distinct  advance  in  the  direction  of 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  119 

unity  of  action — the  only  one  of  the  'three  unities'  that  has  any 
real  validity. 

32.   inductions,  introductions,  beginnings.     Cf.  iv.  4.  5. 

36.   So  in  Lear  (i.  2.  195)  Edmund  speaks  of  having 

"  a  brother  noble, 

Whose  nature  is  so  far  from  doing  harms, 
That  he  suspects  none :  on  whose  foolish  honesty 
My  practices  ride  easy". 

38.   mew'd  up.     See  Glossary. 

39  f.  Holinshed  alludes  to  this  story  of  the  "prophecy",  but  is 
evidently  sceptical  as  to  its  authenticity.  He  adds  that  those  who 
believed  in  its  genuineness  were  able  to  point  out  that  it  had  actually 
been  fulfilled:  "G"  is  the  first  letter  of  'Gloucester'  as  well  as  of 
'  George '. 

44.  Tendering,  setting  a  high  value  on.    Cf.  ii.  4.  72,  and  iv.  4. 
405.     The  verb  is  derived  from  the  adjective. 

45.  conduct,  escort.     The  word  is  obsolete  in  this  sense  except 
•in  the  phrase  'safe-conduct'. 

49.  belike,  in  all  likelihood.     See  Glossary. 

50.  new-christen'd.      Richard's   sarcastic   phrase   undoubtedly 
contains  an  allusion  to  the  manner  of  Clarence's  death.     As,  how- 
ever, the  decision  to  "chop  him  in  the  malmsey  butt"  (i.  4.  161) 
was  arrived  at  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and  could  not  have 
been  known  beforehand  to  Richard,  the  allusion  is  an  instance  of 
'tragic  irony',  for  which  see  note  on  i.  2.  26  ff. 

55.  cross-row,  the  alphabet.  In  the  old  hornbooks  the  figure 
of  a  cross  was  prefixed  to  the  alphabet,  which  thus  came  to  be  called 
'the  Christ-cross-row'. 

58.  for,  because.     Cf.  ii.  2.  95,  and  other  instances. 

60.  toys,  silly  thoughts.  Cf.  Othello,  iii.  4.  156,  "No  jealous 
toy  concerning  you".  In  iii.  I.  114  of  our  play  the  word  has  a 
slightly  different  sense. 

62.  this  it  is,  this  is  what  happens. 

65.  tempers  him  to  this  extremity,  persuades  him  to  take  such 
harsh  measures.     See  Glossary  (temper}. 

66.  worship,  position,  dignity.     Cf.  the  adjective  'worshipful', 
and  the  phrase  '  Your  worship'  as  a  form  of  address. 

67.  Woodville:   a  trisyllable  here.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody, 
p.  179,  1.  1 8. 

73.  Jane  Shore  was  the  most  famous  of  Edward  IV. 's  mistresses. 
She  was  the  wife  of  a  London  citizen,  to  whom  she  had  been 
married  when  a  mere  girl.  Holinshed  says  she  had  great  personal 


120  KIN(;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I. 

attractions.  "  Yet  delighted  men  not  so  much  in  hir  U-.iutic.  as  in 
hir  pleasant  l>ehavi<>ur.  For  a  proper  wit  had  she,  and  could  both 
read  well  and  write,  merrie  in  companie,  readie  and  quicke  of 
answer.''  After  Edward's  death  she  accepted  the  protection  first  of 
I  ."til  Hastings,  and  sul>se<]ucntly  of  the  Marquess  of  Dorset.  More 
tells  us  she  was  alive  when  he  wrote  his  history. 

78.   our  way,  the  way  for  us. 

81.  o'erworn  widow.     The  queen  was  a  widow  when  Edward 
married  her  (cf.  iii.  7.  183  ff. ).      Hence  the  contemptuous  use  of  the 
word  here  and  in    1.    109.      The   epithet   o'erworn   has  a  similar 
significance.      It  can  hardly  refer  to  Elizalx.-th's  age ;  she  was  born 
in  1437. 

82.  dubb'd  them  gentlewomen.     Jane  Shore  was  never  in  any 
way  ennobled,  and  the  queen  was  a  'gentlewoman'  to  begin  with. 
But  doubtless  their  association  with  the  king  gave  them  great  influ- 
ence, and  Richard  need  mean  no  more  than  this. 

83.  gossips.     See  Glossary. 

85.  given  in  charge,  ordered,  charged. 

92.  struck.  See  Glossary.  For  the  scansion  see  Afftndix  on 
Prosody,  p.  183,  1.  25. 

103.   withal.     See  Glossary. 

106.  abjects.  See  Glossary.  Probably  the  word  is  intended  to 
suggest  'subjects'  here. 

no.  enfranchise,  set  free.     See  Glossary. 

115.  lie,  be  imprisoned.  Mr.  Wright  suggests  that  a  play  upon 
words  is  intended.  Cf.  Hamlet,  v.  i.  131  ff..  and  the  famous 
epigram  on  the  Tichborne  claimant  ("He  that  lied  in  court,  still 
lies  in  jail"). 

122.  time  of  day.  'To  pass  the  time  of  day'  is  still  used  col- 
hxjuially  of  a  casual  salutation.  The  general  expression  is,  however, 
no  longer  employed  as  a  greeting;  we  say  'Good  morning',  'Good 
afternoon  ',  or  '  Good  evening ',  as  the  case  may  be.  The  full  form 
of  the  phrase  occurs  in  iv.  I,  5,  6.  For  other  abbreviations  see  on 
ii.  3.  6. 

131.  on,  against. 

132.  Delius  says  that   "the  eagle"  is  Hastings.      But  is  it  not 
rather  Clarence?     (Cf.   i.   3.   264.)     The  "kites  and  buzzards"  are 
obviously  the  queen's  kindred,  who,  as  a  new  aristocracy,  were  un- 
popular with  those  who  felt  their  growing  power. 

137.  fear  him,  are  anxious  aliout  him.     This  sense  is  common  in 
Shakes|>eare,  being  found  even  in  the  passive  voice,  e.g.  First  Part 
of  AV«v  Hemy  IV.  (iv.  i.  24),   "  He  was  much  feared  by  his  phy- 
sicians". 

138.  by  Saint  Paul :  Richard's  favourite  oath. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  121 

139.  diet,  manner  of  life.     (Greek,  Siatra.) 
148.   steel'd,  made  firm  and  strong. 

153.  Warwick's   youngest   daughter,   Lady  Anne.     Her  be- 
3thed,  Prince  Edward  of  Lancaster,  was  slain  at  Tewkesbury,  and 

her  father  at  Barnet.  According  to  Holinshed,  Clarence,  Richard, 
Grey,  Dorset,  and  Hastings  had  all  a  hand  in  the  murder  of  Edward. 
Cf.  i.  2.  240;  4.  56;  and  iii.  3.  16. 

154.  husband.     Anne  and  Edward  were  never  actually  married. 
Shakespeare  follows  the  common  tradition  in  always  speaking  of  them 
as  husband  and  wife. 

158.  secret  close  intent.  His  ultimate  end  was  the  crown; 
Anne's  wealth  would  help  him  to  gain  this. 

Scene  2. 

This  scene  has  produced  a  great  variety  of  criticism,  the  larger 
proportion  of  which  has  been  distinctly  adverse.  In  considering  the 
question  of  its  dramatic  propriety  we  must  remember  that  Anne  did 
not  possess  the  clue  to  Richard's  character,  which  the  opening  scene 
has  given  to  us ;  she  knew  him  to  be  bold  and  cruel,  but  she  had  no 
reason  to  suspect  him  of  double-dealing.  Further,  Richard's  mar- 
riage with  Prince  Edward's  'widow'  was  a  point  in  his  career  which 
Shakespeare  could  hardly  pass  over.  Dramatic  necessities  led  him 
to  place  it  immediately  after  Edward's  death  (1.  240,  and  cf.  Intro- 
duction, p.  12).  To  bridge  over  the  inherent  improbability  of  Anne's 
so  soon  consenting  to  the  union,  some  such  scene  as  this  was  ab- 
solutely necessary,  a  scene  where  Richard's  strong  personality,  com- 
manding intellect,  and  masterly  hypocrisy  should  bear  down  all 
opposition.  No  doubt  Shakespeare  might  have  made  use  of  the 
story  that  Richard  and  Anne  were  old  lovers.  This,  however, 
would  not  have  served  his  purpose  so  well.  It  would  have  excited 
our  sympathy  with  Richard ;  whereas  the  method  actually  adopted 
increases  our  admiration  for  his  qualities  without  making  us  feel  more 
kindly  towards  him. 

2.  hearse :    not  used  in  the  ordinary  sense,  as  is  clear  from  the 
context.     The  body  is  brought  in  upon  a  bier. 

3.  obsequiously,  in  a  manner  becoming  funeral  obsequies.     See 
Glossary. 

5.  key- cold  =  cold  as  a  key.  Steevens  reminds  us  that  a  key 
was  often  used  to  stop  bleeding. 

holy.  Cf.  iv.  I.  70;  4.  25;  v.  1.4.  There  was  actually  an  effort 
made  to  have  him  canonized.  He  was  the  founder  of  Eton  College, 
and  of  King's  College,  Cambridge. 

8.  invocate:  a  'doublet'  of  'invoke',  the  longer  form  having 
come  into  English  direct  from  Latin,  the  shorter  through  the  medium 
of  French. 


123  KIN<;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  I. 

10.   Wife.      See  on  i.  I.  154. 

12.  in  ^ '  into',  as  very  frequently,  e.g.  11.  259  and  261. 

windows.  Schmidt  connects  this  passage  with  the  notion  of  a 
window  as  an  indirect  or  unnatural  means  of  exit  and  entrance,  for 
which  cf.  King  John,  i.  i.  171.  Surely  it  is  better  to  interpret  it  in 
the  light  of  the  old  custom  of  owning  the  windows  and  doors  in  a 
house  in  order  that  the  soul  of  a  dying  j>erson  may  joss  out  freely. 
To  those  familiar  with  such  a  superstition  the  expression  in  the  text 
would  seem  in  no  way  strange;  and  that  Shakes|>eare  knew  of  it 
appears  certain  from  King  John,  v.  7.  29  (also  misunderstood  by 
Schmidt).  There  the  dying  monarch,  when  he  has  l>een  carried  out 
into  the  orchard  to  the  o|x;n  air,  exclaims — 

"Ay,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow-room; 
It  would  not  out  at  windows  nor  at  doors'*. 

13.  helpless:    not  'without  help',  but    'without  the  power  to 
help'.     'Help'  in  Shakespeare  has  the  sense  of   'cure'.      See  on 
iv.  4.  131. 

15.  the   heart.     At  first  sight   it  seems  unnatural  for  Anne  to 
indulge  in  word-play  when  under  the  stress  of  such  strong  emotion. 
But  this  is  one  of  those  cases  where  "misery  makes  s|x>rt  to  mock 
itself".     The  classic  instance  in  Shakes|»eare  is  Gaunt  punning  on 
his  own  name,  as  he  lies  on  his  death-bed  (Kichard  II.,  ii.  i.  73- 
84,  where  see  Prof.  Herford's  note  in  the  Warwick  Ed.).     Cf.  also 
v.  i.  12  of  this  play.     With  regard  to  the  whole  question,  it  should 
IK;  borne  in  mind  that  the  Elizalxfthans,  like  the  Athenians  of  the 
Fifth  Century  B.C.,  found  in  word-play  a  charm  that  it  is  difficult  for 
us  to  appreciate.     It  recalls  the  delight  that  children  at  a  certain 
stage  of  mental  development  often  take  in  puns.      Possibly  in  both 
cases  the  ultimate  explanation  is  the  same.     The  tendency  may  be 
due  to  the  growing  sense  of  a  mastery  over  language,  and  to  the 
desire  to  give  expression  to  it. 

16.  the  blood.     Mr.  Wright  suggests  that  blood  has  here  (as  fre- 
quently in  Shakespeare)  the  sense  of  '  jiassion'  or  '  temper'. 

17.  hap,  fortune — whether  lad,  a>  here,  or  good,  as  in  L  3.  84. 

20.  venom'd.  Both  the  toad  and  the  spider  were  popularly 
believed  to  \te  poisonous.  The  former  in  particular  is  often  alluded 
to  by  Shakespeare  as  venomous,  e.g.  i.  2.  143 ;  3.  246 ;  As  You  Like 
It,  ii.  i.  13;  Ufatbeth,  iv.  i.  6,  &c.  For  the  spider,  cf.  Richard  11^ 
iii.  2.  14. 

22.  Prodigious,  of  the  nature  of  a  prodigy,  monstrous. 

23.  aspect,  look.     Cf.  i.  2.  155. 

25.  unhappiness.  wickedness,  power  for  mischief.  '  Unhappy' 
is  sometimes  used  in  the  sense  of  mischievous,  e.g.  "A  shrewd 
knave  and  an  unhappy"  (All 's  Well,  iv.  5.  66). 


28.  The  form  of  expression  is  condensed.     For  the  'sense  see  iv. 

I.  77. 

29.  Chertsey,   a  market  town   in  Surrey,  25  miles  w.s.w.   of 
London. 

31.  as,  as  often  as. 

32.  whiles.     See  Glossary. 

35.  devoted.  In  sense  this  adjective  belongs  not  to  "deeds",  but 
to  the  'charity'  contained  in  "charitable".  The  phrase  really 
means  'deeds  of  devoted  charity'.  Cf.  i.  4.  4,  280;  ii.  4.  55. 

40.  Advance:  not  'move  forward',  but  'move  upward',  i.e. 
'raise'.  Cf.  v.  3.  264. 

46.   Avaunt.     See  Glossary. 

i'    49.  curst,  perverse,  shrewish.     This  sense  of  the  word  survives 
only  in  slang. 

52.   exclaims,  exclamations.    The  word  occurs  again  in  iv.  4.  135. 

54.  pattern,  sample. 

55.  The  allusion  is  to  the  familiar  superstition  that  a  murdered 
man's  wounds  bled  afresh  if  the  murderer  approached  his  victim's 
body.     Effective  use  is  made  of  this  belief  by  Scott  in   The  Fair 
Maid  of  Perth,  and  by  Hawthorne  in  Transformation. 

y   58.   exhales.     See  Glossary. 

62.  revenge  his  death.  Note  the  effect  of  iteration,  particularly 
•fc  curses  and  lamentations.  Cf.  ii.  2.  71  ff. ;  iv.  4.  40  ff.,  &c. 


124  KING   RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  I. 

65.  quick,  living. 

68.  One  of  the  legacies  which  the  Elizabethan  drama  inherited 
from  Euripides  through  Seneca  was  a  fondness  for  the  rapid  inter- 
change of  studied  rejartee.  The  dialogue  that  follows  is  one  of  the 
most  marked  Shakes|>earian  examples  of  this  'stichomuthia',  as  it 
was  called  by  the  Greeks;  and  other  notable  instances  will  be  found 
in  the  conversation  l>etween  Richard  and  Elizabeth  in  Act  iv. ,  Scene 
4.  In  their  own  way  these  scenes  are  effective,  but  to  a  mcxlern  ear 
the  straining  after  |»rallelism,  which  is  characteristic  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan 'stichomuthia',  and  is  akin  to  punning,  seems  tasteless,  and 
as  a  matter  of  fact  often  results  in  something  perilously  near  to 
nonsense.  The  encounter  is  interesting  as  an  illustration  of  Shake- 
speare's use  of  '  thou'  and  'you'.  Anne,  whose  feelings  are  stirred 
to  their  depths,  uses  the  'thou'  of  contempt  until  1.  196,  when  she 
finally  relents.  Richard,  on  the  other  hand,  is  cool  and  collected 
throughout,  and  invariably  uses  'you',  except  where  he  simulates 
deep  feeling  (1.  81  and  11.  132  ff.). 

77.  By  circumstance,  in  a  detailed  or  circumstantial  manner. 

78.  defused  infection.     \Ve  must  not  press  too  strongly  for  a 
meaning;  the  phrase  is  obviously  used  mainly  for  the  jingle  with 
"  divine  perfection  ".     But  see  Glossary  for  both  words. 

82.  patient.     See  on  i.  I.  15. 

84.  current,  accepted  as  genuine.     Cf.  ii.  I.  94;  iv.  2.  9. 

87.  worthy,  well-deserved. 

89.  Say  that  I  slew  them  not?=  'Suppose  I  did  not  kill  them?' 

92.  Cf.  on  i.  i.  153. 

95.  bend,  aim.  The  word  in  this  sense  was  in  the  first  instance 
used  of  a  Ixnv.  Here  it  is  applied  to  a  falchion,  and  we  even  find 
"our  cannon  shall  be  bent  "  (A'ingjohn,  ii.  I.  37). 

98.   their  guilt,  the  guilt  of  my  brothers. 

102.  grant  me.    Note  the  word-play.     In  the  first  instance 
has  the  sense  of  '  admit  to  l>e  true ' ;  in  the  second  it  has  its  ordii 
meaning.     In  both  instances  me  is  in  the  dative,  as  is  the  "ye" 
the  preceding  line. 

117.   timeless,  untimely. 

120.  effect.  If  the  word  has  any  very  definite  sense  here, 
probably  means  'efficient  cause',  as  Schmidt  thinks.  But  see 
1.78. 

133.  Anne  implies  that,  if  Richard's  assertion  were  true,  then  she 
had  it  in  her  power  to  make  him  miserable. 

142.  The  Yorkist  Richard  and  the  I^ancastrian  Edward  were 
both  Plantagenets.  The  word  was  originally  the  nickname  ( I'lante- 
geneste)  of  Geoffrey,  Count  of  Anjou,  father  of  Henry  II. 


:ene  2.]  NOTES.  125 


1 66. 


126  KIM.    RICHARD   THK   THIRD.  [Act  I. 

217.  expedient  duty,  swift  respect.  Fur  the  various  meanings 
of  duly  sec  Glossary. 

220.     That  Anne's  assent  was  genuine,  is  clear  from  iv.  I.  79  ff. 

222  ff.  Anne  has  not  altogether  forgotten  her.-cli.  To  please 
(  "  flatter  "  )  Richard  she  allows  him  to  have  the  pleasure  of  imagin- 
ing that  she  has  bid  him  a  lover's  farewell.  11  ad  she  conceded 
anything  beyond  this,  the  scene  would  have  lieen  even  more  impro- 
bable than  it  really  is,  and  it  would  have  l>een  more  difficult  for  us 
to  sympathize  with  her  in  iv.  I. 

227.  White-Friars.  "The  house  of  the  Carmelite  or  White- 
Friars  sto«xl  on  the  south  side  of  Fleet  Street  l>etween  the  Temple 
and  Salisbury  Court.  .  .  .  The  Carmelites  were  commonly  desig- 
nated White  Friars  from  the  white  cloak  and  scapular  which  they 
wore  over  their  brown  habit."  (Marshall.) 

230.  I  will  not  keep  her  long:  the  first  hint  of  the  fate  in  store 
for  Anne.  Richard  only  wanted  her  wealth. 

235.  these  bars.  He  probably  refers  to  his  personal  deformities, 
since  his  crimes  are  covered  by  the  earlier  half  of  the  line. 

237.  plain,  mere.     Cf.  "a  plain  knave''  (Lear,  ii.  2.  118). 

241.  three  months  since.  There  was  really  less  than  three 
ivftks  of  an  interval  between  the  death  of  Edward  and  the  funeral  of 
Henry  VI.  Hut  the  change  makes  the  scene  less  wildly  improbable. 

244.  Cf.  Loves  Labour  's  Lost,  ii.  I.  9  ff.— 
"  Be  now  as  prodigal  of  all  dear  grace 
As  nature  was  in  making  graces  dear, 
When  she  did  starve  the  general  world  beside, 
And  prodigally  gave  them  all  to  you  ". 

247.  debase... on  me,  lower  to  my  level. 

248.  prime.     Cf.  iv.  3.  19;  4.  170;  v.  3.  119. 

250.  moiety,  from  Lat.  mediatatem  (mediiis),  means  literally  'a 
half.  It  ihen  came  to  be  used  loosely  for  any  fraction,  and  so 
here. 

252.  denier.  Steevens  says:  "A  denier  is  the  twelfth  part  of  a 
French  wit.  and  seems  to  have  been  the  regular  request  of  a  beggar".' 
The  word  comes  from  Lat.  denarius.  For  the  sense  of  the  line  c£ 
"All  the  \\orld  to  nothing"  in  1.  238. 

255.  proper,  handsome.  So  Moses  is  called  "a  proper  child"  in 
Hebrews,  xi.  23. 

2s6.   at  charges  for,  at  the  expense  of. 

257.   entertain.     See  Glossary. 

259.  Kichard  ironically  suggests  that  he  has  grown  proud  of  his 
personal  appearance,  and  must  spend  some  money  in  keeping  it  up. 

262.  lamenting,  i.e.  professing  contrition  for  his  evil  deeds. 
Cf.  i.  2.  216. 


:ene  3.] 


NOTES. 


127 


Scene  3. 

In  this  scene  Richard  shows  himself  boldly  defiant  of  the  queen 
her  relatives.     Hypocrisy  of  the  ordinary  kind  would  hardly 
ave  served  his   purpose,  for   Elizabeth   already  saw  through   his 
"us  (1.  13).     On  the  other  hand,  the  new  aristocracy  whom  he 
to  sweep  from  his  path,  must  in  the  nature  of  things  have  made 
tiemselves  many  enemies  among  the  representatives  of  the  old  order. 
He  could  thus  reckon  on  abundant  support  in  his  attitude  of  open 
hostility,  and  it  is  worth  noting  how  he  endeavours  throughout  to 
increase    their    unpopularity   by  casting   on    them   the  obloquy  of 
Clarence's  death  and  Hastings's  imprisonment.     But  this  openness 
is  not  true  frankness :  it  is  only  a  more  dangerous  form  of  hypocrisy. 
"Hie  picture  he  gives  of  himself  as  "a  plain  man"  full  of  "simple 
ith"  (1.  51)  recalls  Lear,  ii.  2.  104 — 

"  he  cannot  flatter,  he, 

An  honest  mind  and  plain,  he  must  speak  truth ! 
An  they  will  take  it,  so;  if  not,  he's  plain. 
These  kind  of  knaves  I  know,  which  in  this  plainness 
Harbour  more  craft  and  more  corrupter  ends 
Than  twenty  silly  ducking  observants 
That  stretch  their  duties  nicely  ". 

4.  entertain.     See  Glossary. 

5.  quick,  lively. 

6.  betide  of,  happen  to. 

13.  nor  none.       Such   double   negatives  —  strengthening,   not 
stroying,  one  another — abound  in  Shakespeare. 

15.  concluded,  formally  decided. 

17.  Derby :  called  also  Lord  Stanley,  e.g.  in  iii.  2  and  iv.  4.  See 
>te  on  1.  20. 

19.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody \  p.  181,  1.  25. 

20.  Countess   Richmond.     Margaret,   great  granddaughter  of 
ohn  of  Gaunt,  married  Edmund  Tudor,   Earl  of  Richmond,  the 

id  of  a  great  Welsh  family.  Her  son  by  this  union  was  the 
Richmond  of  our  play,  who  became  Henry  VII.  of  England.  A 

ir  or  two  before  the  battle  of  Bosworth  she  was  married  (for  a 
lird  time)  to  Lord  Stanley,  Earl  of  Derby,  a  widower  with  three 

is,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  "young  George  Stanley"  (v.  5.  9). 

25.  not  believe.     The  position  of  the  negative  seems  odd  to  us. 
<ie  should  say  either  '  believe  not '  or  '  do  not  believe  '.     Cf.  "  not 
quals  "  in  i.  2.  250. 

26.  envious,  malicious.      Cf.  i.  4.  37.     So  '  envy '  has  the  sense 
'malice',  e.g.  iv.  I.  100. 


128  KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD.  [Act  L 

ag.  wayward  sickness:  i.e.  weakness  that  shows  itself  in  way- 
wardness. Cf.  "wayward  sickliness"  in  a  very  similar  context  in 
Riihard  //.,  ii.  1.  142. 

33.  amendment,  recovery.  Cf.  Macbeth,  iv.  3.  145,  where  the 
doctor,  speaking  of  the  'touching'  of  those  affected  with  king's  evil, 
says  that  "they  presently  amend".  In  UL  7.  115  of  our  play 
"amend"  is  used  transitively  in  the  sense  of  'cure',  with  which 
cf.  iv.  4.  291. 

36.  atonement,  reconciliation,  agreement.     See  Glossary. 

39.  warn,  call.     In  some  country  districts  of  Scotland  people  : 
still  '  warned  '  to  weddings  and  funerals. 

46.  dissentious,  seditious  (Schmidt). 
48    smooth.     Cf.  i.  2.  169. 
cog,  cheat.     See  Glossary. 

49.  French  nods.  Sleevens  says:  "An  importation  of  foreig 
manners  seems  to  have  afforded  our  ancient  poets  a  never-failir 
topic  of  invective  ".  The  spirit  is  by  no  means  dead  yet. 

53.  Jacks.     'Jack'  was  at  one  time  the  commonest  of  narm 
(Cf.    '  Jack-in-the-Box ',   'Jack    Frost',    'Jack   o'  Lantern',    'Ja 
and  Gill',  and  see  on  iv.  2.  117.)     Hence  it  came  to  be  used 
temptuously  for  the  commonest  of  men.     Shakespeare  uses  it 
quently  in  this  way,  as  here  and  in  11.   72,  73.      Cf.  First  Part 
King  Henry  II'.,  \.  4.   142:   "If  I  lie  not  Jack   Falstaff,  then  am 
I  a  Jack  ". 

54.  presence  — '  the  persons  here  present '.     Cf.  ii.  I.  58. 

60.  Cannot... scarce  =  '  can  hardly '. 

61.  lewd,  vulgar.     See  Glossary. 

64.  else  =  '  besides  himself.     The  word  is  therefore  unmeanir 
if  taken  strictly,  for  the  word  "suitor"  expressly  excludes  the  kir 
Mr.  Wright  illustratesthe  idiom  by  the  well-known  lines  in  Paradi 
Lost  (iv.  323)— 

"Adam  the  goodliest  man  of  men  since  born 
His  sons:  the  fairest  of  her  daughters,  Eve". 

See  also  on  v.  3.  243  ft. 

65.  Aiming  ..at,  having  in  view. 

68.  Makes  him  to  send.  The  grammatical  structure  of  th< 
sentence  is  hopelessly  confused ;  but  the  general  sense  is  tolerably 
clear.  Ablxrtt  (Shak.  Gram.  §  376)  suggests  that  "the  king  .  .  . 
aiming,  &c.  ",  which  is  properly  a  nominative  al>solute,  is  treated  at 
equivalent  to  'the  fact  that  the  king  aims,  &c. ',  and  is  employed 
ns  a  subject  to  " makes". 

70  ff.  The  drift  of  Gloucester's  speech  is  made  plain  by  Elizabeth'* 
reply. 


ill  HI 

' 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  129 

2.  Jack.     See  on  i.  3.  53. 

3.  gentle,  of  gentle  birth. 

'5.   friends'.     Notice  that  this  is  possessive  case. 

2.  noble,  a  coin  worth  about  65.  &/.     It  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
raw  attention  to  the  pun. 

83.  careful,  full  of  care.     It  was  in  this  sense  that  Martha  was 
"careful  about  many  things"  (Luke,  x.  41). 

84.  hap.     See  on  i.  2.  17. 

89.  suspects,  suspicions.     Cf.  "entreats"  (iii.  7.  225),  and  "ex- 
claims" (iv.  4.  135). 

90.  For  the  double  negative  cf.  1.  13.     Note  how  the  meaning 
of  the  word  "  may"  varies  in  the  mouths  of  the  different  speakeis. 

100.  marry.     There  is,  of  course,  a  play  upon  the  exclamation 
and  the  verb.     For  the  exclamation  see  Glossary. 
02.   I  wis.     See  Glossary, 
worser.     See  Glossary, 
no.  At  this  point   a  new  and   important   motive   of  the    play 
appears.     Queen  Margaret,  whom  a  critic  has  called  "the  most 
supernatural  conception  in  Shakespeare ",   comes  upon  the  stage. 
Until  1.  158  she  remains  in  the  background,  her  speeches  till  then 
being  'asides'.     Though  at  first  her  denunciations  merely  expose 
Gloucester's  wickedness,  she  subsequently  includes  the  whole  Yorkist 
connection  in  the  curse  which  she  pronounces,  and  thus  gives  us 
the  first  hint  we  get,  that  Richard  is  the  unwitting  avenger  of  the. 
rrongs  of  Lancaster.     (Cf.  Introduction,  p.  10.) 

12.  due  to  me,  my  due,  mine  by  right. 

117.  my  pains:  i.e.  the  trouble  he  took  to  get  the  throne  for 
Edward.  Cf.  121  ff. 

128.  factious  for,  on  the  side  of.  See  on  ii.  I.  20.  Sir  John 
Grey  was  a  Lancastrian,  although  in  Third  Henry  VI.  (iii.  2.  6)  it 

erroneously  said  that  he  fell  "  in  quarrel  of  the  House  of  York  ". 

30.   Margaret's  battle:    either  'Margaret's  army'  (for  which 
of  the  word  cf.   v.   3.   299),  or  '  the  battle  which  Margaret 
n',  i.e.  the  second  battle  of  St.  Albans  (1461). 

father^ '  father-in-law',  as  "  sister  "  —  f  sister-in-law*  in  iii. 
7.  182.     Cf.  i.  4.  48  ff.  and  Third  Henry  VI.  (v.  i.  81),  where  this 

scene  is  described. 

». , 
37.   Do  not  forget  that  Margaret  is  still  speaking  in  '  asides '. 
38.  party,  side.     Cf.  iii.  2.  47;  iv.  4.  190,  528;  v.  3.  13. 
39.  meed.     Notice  the  word-play. 

142.  childish-foolish,  childishly  simple.     The  audience  would 
appreciate  the  irony  of  this  and  much  else  in  Richard's  speeches  (e.g. 
f  M  233)  I 


I.V>  KING    RICHARD   THF.   THIRD.  ("Act  I. 

I.   149).     SHI  h    intentional    irony   must    not   1  ,•  confused  with  the 
'  tragic  irony '  discussed  in  the  note  to  i.  2.  20. 

144.   cacodemon.     See  Glossary. 

155.  A  little  joy.  If  the  reading  is  correct  (and  here  Quartos 
and  Folios  agree),  the  "  little  joy  "  must  be  the  satisfaction  she  feels 
at  her  rival's  misery.  But  the  phrase  is  inconsistent  with  the  "alto- 
gether joy  less :>  of  the  succeeding  line.  Various  emendations  have 
been  suggested,  such  as  ".-/*  little",  '"'And  little''  ".-//<,  little". 

159.  pill'd,  rohl>ed.     See  Glossary. 

162.  by  you  deposed.     To  complete  the  grammatical  construc- 
tion (nominative  absolute),  "I  l>eing"  must  be  supplied  with  this 
participle  from  the  preceding  line.     Cf.  v.  3.  95. 

163.  gentle  villain.     For  the  oxymoron  see  on  i.  2.  153.     John- 
son finds  a  further  opposition  l>etween  gentle  —  '  highl-orn '  (cf.  L  3.  73), 
and  rillain  —  'a.  low-born  wretch'. 

164.  makest.      Richard  uses  '  make  '  in  the  sense  of  '  do'.     Mar- 
garet, while  joining  it  with  "repetition"  (—  're|x.'at'.     Cf.  "make 
prey'',  1.  71),  plays  also  upon  its  other  meaning  by  introducing  the 
word  "  mar".     The  sense  of  the  line  is  that  she  is  going  to  recount 
his  misdeeds. 

169.  abode  =  the  act  of  abiding. 

170.  thou:  addressed  to  Richard.     The  first  half  of  the  next  line 
is  addressed  to  Queen  Elizabeth. 

174.  This  scene  is  described  in  Third  Henry  I' I.  (i.  4). 
178.   faultless,  innocent. 

181.  plagued,  punished.  So  " plagued  and  chastened'1  in  Psalms, 
Ixxiii.  14. 

183.  that  babe.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Rutland  was  older  than 
either  Clarence  or  Richard.  He  was,  of  course,  a  mere  boy  at  the 
time  of  his  death.  But  he  is  dclilieratcly  represented  as  a  child  com- 
pared to  Richard  (cf.  Third  Henry  I'/.,  i.  2  and  3)  in  order  to 
make  his  death  more  pathetic. 

190.  all  lx.'longs  to  "  you  ",  not  to  "  hatred  ",  as  is  clear  from  the 
"all"ofl.  188. 

194.  Could  all  but  answer  for,  all  taken  together  could  do  no 
more  than  atone  for. 

197  ff.  Notice  how  each  of  Margaret's  curses  finds  fulfilment  in 
the  course  of  the  play,  and  how  each  victim  who  heard  them,  recalls 
their  import  when  his  hour  comes.  When  she  next  appears  (Act  iv. 
Sc.  4),  it  is  to  exult  over  the  vengeance  that  has  descended  on  her 
foes. 

aot.  untimely.     See  on  i.  i.  15. 

206.   stall'd   .  '  installed '. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  131 

212.  him.  For  the  redundant  pronoun  cf.  iii.  I.  10,  26;  7-  235- 
Abbott  points  out  (§  243)  that  this  idiomatic  insertion  of  the  pronoun 
rarely  takes  place  (as  here)  after  an  object.  It  is  much  more  frequent 
after  a  subject,  particularly  if  that  subject  be  a  proper  name. 

214.   But.     Note  the  ellipsis  after  this  word. 
unlook'd,  unexpected. 

219.  them.  Here,  as  in  v.  5.  20,  "  Heaven"  is  treated  as  a 
plural.  Similarly  "Hell"  in  iv.  4.  72. 

222.   still,  constantly. 

begnaw.  The  prefix  be-  has  in  this  word  the  force  of  '  round 
about',  'all  over'.  Cf.  'bespatter',  etc.  For  the  metaphor  cf. 
Afar/:,  ix.  44:  "Where  their  worm  dieth  not". 

228.  elvish-mark'd:  as  if  the  spirits  of  evil  had  marked  him 
as  their  own  at  his  birth.  The  allusion  seems  to  be  to  his  personal 


(: 
rooting  hog:  a  contemptuous  reference  to  Richard's  device  of  a 
tiite  boar.     Cf.  iii.  2.  1  1  ;  v.  2.  7. 
229,230.  seal'd...  The  slave  of  nature.   Warburton  suggests  that 
ere  may  be  an  allusion  to  the  practice  of  "masters  branding  their 
profligate  slaves  ".     The  phrase  would  then  mean  that  nature,  by 
marking  Richard  as  she  had  done  at  his  birth,  had  made  him  the 
most  degraded  of  her  servants. 

234.  Ha  !      This  word  is  the  Shakespearian  equivalent  of  the 
modern   'eh'  (  =  'what  do  you  say?').      Another  example  will  be 
found  in  v.  3.  5.     The  dramatic  point  of  the  passage  is  therefore  to 
be  explained  as  follows.    The  Queen's  exclamation  of  "Richard  !"  is 
intended  to  complete  her  unfinished  sentence.    Gloucester,  however, 
professes  to  regard  it  as  the  beginning  of  a  fresh  remark  addressed  to 
him,  as  if  he  had  already  '  made  the  period  to  '  her  curse  by  his  in- 
terruption of  "  Margaret  ".     That  this  is  the  force  of  his  cry  of  Ha  t 
ts  clear  from  the  reply,   "I  call  thee  not",  —  a  reply  which  he  pre- 

ds  to  understand  in  a  different  sense  (1.  236). 

235.  See  on  ii.  2.  104. 

238.  make  the  period  to,  round  off,  complete.     Cf.  ii.  I.  44. 

241.  painted,  unreal. 

vain  flourish,  empty  show. 

242.  bottled,  round  like  a  bottle. 
246.   bunch-back'd,  hump-backed. 
251.  serve  ...  well.     Note  the  word-play. 

duty.     There  is  also  a  play  on  the  different  senses  of  this  word, 
which  see  Glossary. 
255.  malapert.     See  Glossary. 


132  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  [Act  1. 

256.  Grey  had  lx:en  made  Marquis  of  Dorset  in  1475.  Hence 
his  pa'.i-nt  <>f  nobility  was  brand-new  compared  with  older  titles. 
The  metaphor  is  from  a  coin  (  "  stam;>")  fresh  from  the  mint  (  "  fire- 
new  "  ).  For  stamp  in  the  sense  of  '  coin  ',  i.e.  '  thing  stamped  ',  cf. 
the  "stamp  of  gold  "  King  F.dward  hangs  round  the  necks  of  those 
whom  he  touches  for  kings  evil  (Macbeth,  iv.  3.  153). 
current.  Cf.  i.  2.  84. 

263.  much    more.      Gloucester  means    that    his   rank    is   much 
higher  than  Dorset's.      He  goes  on  to  say  it  is  *'  so  high  "  that  he  is 
out  of  all  danger  of  a  fall. 

264.  aery  means  first  a  nest,  and  then  the  br<x>d   in  the  nest. 
The  phrase  "  an  aery  of  children  "  occurs  in  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  354.    For 
the  metaphor  cf.  i.  3.  71. 

267.   son.     See  on  i.  I.  2. 

275.  If  1.  273  is  rightly  assigned  to  Buckingham  (which  some 
editors  have  doubted),  only  the  first  line  of  Margaret's  reply  can  be 
addressed  to  him.  For  in  her  next  sj>eech  she  expressly  exempts  him 
from  her  denunciations. 

277.  This  line  is  difficult.  Definiteness  of  meaning  has  been 
sacrificed  to  the  temptation  to  play  upon  words.  The  general  sense 
appears  to  be:  '  Outrage  is  the  only  charity  I  have  known,  life  is  the 
deepest  shame  I  can  endure '. 

282.  fair  befall.  The  grammar  of  such  sentences  is  most  simply 
explained  by  taking  befall  as  an  impersonal  verb,  and  making  fair 
an  adverb. 

291.   venom:  noun  used  as  an  adjective. 

296.  respect,  regard,  |>ay  heed  to.  So  "the  man  that  respecteth 
not  the  proud  "  (J'salms,  xl.  4). 

298.   soothe,  speak  smooth  words  to.     See  Glossary. 

311.   hot,  eager. 

314.  frank'd  up  to  fatting,  shut  up  in  a  frank  or  sty  with  a 
view  to  fattening.  Koryr^M/tV/see  Glossary. 

317.   scathe,  injury.     See  Glossary. 

324.  This  soliloquy  of  Richard's  sums  up  the  situation  with  admir- 
al >le  clearness.      It  provides  a  good  illustration  of  the  simplicity  of 
the  dramatic  methods  employed  in  the  play.     See  note  on  i.  I. 

brawl,  raise  an  outcry. 

325.  set  abroach,  let  loose.     The  metaphor  is  taken  from  open- 
ing a  barrel  or  jar  of  liquor.     See  abroach  in  Glossary. 

326.  grievous.     See  on  i.  I.  15. 

333-   Vaughan :  always  to  be  pronounced  as  a  dissyllable  in  the 
play.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  1 79,  1.  6. 
340.  stout  resolved,  of  stout  resolution. 


:ene  4.] 


NOTES. 


'33 


346.   sudden,  swift.     Cf.  "sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel". 
348.  well-spoken,  eloquent.     Cf.  'fair-spoken'. 
352.  doers,  men  of  action. 

354.  drop.  That  this  is  a  command  is  clear  from  1.  246  of  the 
illowing  scene. 

millstones.      So   Shelley   in   his   Mask  of  Anarchy  says  of 
Fraud — 

"  His  big  tears,  for  he  wept  well, 
Turned  to  millstones  as  they  fell ". 

rhaps  the  notion  that  hard-hearted  people  wept  millstones,  had 
>  origin  in  some  saying  to  the  effect  that  millstones  were  as  likely  to 
ame  from  their  eyes  as  tears. 

356.  dispatch.     See  on  i.  2.  182. 

Scene  4. 

While  this  scene  introduces  a  strong  element  of 'pity'  or  pathos 
ito  the  tragedy,  it  also  serves  anotb*  purpose.  Clarence's  awakened 
conscience  leads  him  to  make  confessions  that  show  us  how  just  is 
his  punishment  (cf.  Introduction,  p.  9).  The  fact  that  his  dream 
was  of  drowning  has  doubtless  reference  to  the  actual  manner  of  his 
death.  Style  and  versification  alike  are  here  worthy  of  Shakespeare 
at  his  best.  (In  the  prose  portion  of  this  scene  the  numbering  of 
lines  follows  the  Globe  text.  It  seemed  better  to  be  consistent,  and 
in  no  case  is  the  difference  sufficiently  great  to  cause  any  practical 
difficulty. ) 

4.  Christian  faithful  =' full  of  Christian  faith'.     See  on  i.  2.  35. 

g.   Methoughts.     The  presence  of  the  s  (cf.  1.  58)  is  due  to  false 
ilogy  with  '  methinks ',  for  which  see  Glossary. 

10.  Burgundy.     Margaret,  sister  of  Clarence  and  Richard,  had 

ried  Charles  the  Bold,  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
13.  hatches,  deck. 

27.  unvalued,  invaluable.     So  "unavoided"  for  'unavoidable' 
iv.  i.  56;  4.  217. 
30.  inhabit.     In   Shakespeare   this  verb  is  more  commonly  in- 
ansitive  than  transitive. 

40.  bulk,  body.     See  Glossary. 

41.  Note  the  effect  of  the  alliterative  b  in  this  and  the  preceding 

45.  Who.     The  antecedent  is  contained  in  "my". 

melancholy  flood,  gloomy  river.     What  poets  had  written  ot 
iron  and  the  Styx  ? 
50.  perjury.     For  Clarence's  treachery  cf.  i.  3.  13.15. 


134  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  [Act  I. 

53.  For  Clarence's  share  in  the  murder  of  Prince  Edward  sec  on 
i.  i.  153. 

54.  squeak'd.     Nowadays  the  stage-ghost  speaks  in  a  hollow, 
sepulchral  tone.      In  Shakespeare's  time  he  probably  pitched  his 
voice  in  a  high,  shrill  key.     In  Hamlet  (i.  I.  116)  we  are  told  that 
ghosts  " squeak  and  gibber",  and  \r\Jntitis  Cifsar  (ii.  2.  24)  that 
they  "  shriek  and  squeal ". 

55.  fleeting,  inconstant. 

59.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  184,  1.  30. 

72.  As  a  matter  of  history,  Clarence's  wife  had  already  l>een  dead 
some  time.  Why  does  Shakespeare  speak  of  her  as  still  alive?  See 
note  on  1.  183  of  the  preceding  scene. 

78  ff.  for.  Note  that  this  word  has  three  distinct  senses  in  three 
successive  lines: — (i)  'as',  (2)  '  in  return  for',  (3)  '  instead  of. 

80.  unfelt  imagination,  happiness  which  they  imagine  will  be 
theirs,  but  which  is  never  realized. 

84  ff.  Notice  how  clearly  marked  is  the  difference  l>ctwcen  the 
characters  of  the  two  Murderers.  The  first  is  the  chief  speaker  both 
here  and  in  the  previous  interview  with  Richard  (i.  3.  342  ff. );  he 
is  the  more  hardened  villain  of  the  two,  and  it  is  he  who  actually 
executes  the  deed  of  blood;  conscience  troubles  him  but  slightly 
(1.  154),  though  he  is  not  without  a  certain  rude  sense  of  honour 
(1.  102).  The  Second  Murderer  is  a  type  of  another  kind  of  villain; 
while  more  avaricious  than  his  companion  (1.  129),  he  is  less  con- 
stant in  his  evil  purposes  and  more  open  to  compassion  (1.  270).  It 
should  be  observed,  that  while  the  murder  is  committed  in  sight  of 
the  audience,  the  horror  of  the  scene  is  softened  (i)  by  our  know- 
ledge of  Clarence's  guilt,  (2)  by  the  fact  that  one  of  the  Murderers 
relents,  (3)  by  the  semi-humorous  prose  dialogue  that  precedes  the 
awakening  of  Clarence  and  temporarily  relieves  the  tension  of  feeling. 

89,  90.  brief  ..tedious.  This  was  a  stock  antithesis  among  the 
Klizal>ethans.  It  occurs  again  in  iv.  4.  28.  In  All's  Well,  ii.  3.  34, 
Parolles  uses  "  the  brief  and  the  tedious  of  it  "  for  '  the  long  and  the 
short  of  it '. 

95.  I  will  be  guiltless  of,  I  wish  to  Ix;  ignorant  of.  Cf.  "Be 
innocent  of  the  knowledge,  dearest  chuck"  (Macbeth,  iii.  2.  45). 

99.   a  point  of  wisdom,  i.e.  a  procedure  which  shows  wisdom. 

122.  tell,  count. 

123.  now.     We  must  imagine  the  speaker  to  have  made  a  short 
pause. 

128.  'Zounds.     See  Glossary. 

131.  purse.  So  in  Kichard  //.,  ii.  2.  130.  the  love  ol  the 
"wavering  commons"  is  said  to  lie  "in  their  purses". 


:ene  4.]  NOTES.  135 

135.  entertain.     See  Glossary. 

142.   shamefast :    the  proper  form  of  the  word.    See  Glossary. 

te  spelling  *  shamefaced '  is  due  to  a  false  etymology.  So  '  sovran ' 
come  to  be  spelt  '  sovereign ',  because  it  was  erroneously  sup- 
id  to  be  connected  with  '  reign '. 

149  ff.  Apparently  there  is  the  same  antagonism  here  between  con- 
:ience  and  the  fiend  as  in  Launcelot  Gobbo's  humorous  monologue 
(Mi  reliant  of  Venice,  ii.  2).  The  devil  (or  evil  purpose)  is  already  in 
the  First  Murderer's  mind,  conscience  is  outside  ("at  my  elbow"), 
striving  to  make  his  way  in  ("insinuate  with  thee").  The  Second 
Murderer  urges  his  comrade  to  choose  ("take")  the  former,  and 
disbelieve  the  latter-  This  explanation  is  a  modification  of  that 
given  by  Warburton.  Wright  identifies  "the  devil"  with  "con- 
science", and  interprets  "take. ..in  thy  mind"  as— 'seize  hold  of  in 
thy  imagination'. 

156.  tall,  bold.     See  Glossary. 

1158.  gear,  business. 
159.   costard,  head.     See  Glossary, 
hilts.     This  form  is  more  common  in  Shakespeare  than  '  hilt'. 
160.  chop,  throw  suddenly.     See  Glossary. 
161.  malmsey.     See  Glossary. 
162.   sop:  originally  the  piece  of  bread  or  cake  put  into  a  cup  of 
ne.     See  Glossary. 
165.    reason:    not    'argue',   but  simply  'talk'.      The  Second 
urderer  is  anxious  to  postpone  the  moment  of  action. 
1 66.   As  soon  as  Clarence  awakes,  the  atmosphere  of  the  scene 
anges,  and    the  heightened  feeling  is  appropriately  marked  by 
the  transition  from  prose  to  blank  verse.     We  have  here  a  good 
illustration  of  one  of  the   most   important   principles   that    guided 
"ihakespeare  in  his  use  of  prose  in  his  plays. 

172.  loyal.     The  rhyme  gives  point  to  the  antithesis. 

175.   Notice  the  change  from  "thou"  to  "you"  at  this  point.     He 
aw  addresses  both. 

188.  evidence:  here  in  the  sense  of  '  a  body  of  witnesses',  as  is 
hown  by  the  plural  verb.     The  transition  from  abstract  to  concrete 

is  aptly  illustrated  by  the  word  '  witness ' — originally  (as  the  suffix 
shows)  an  abstract  substantive  =' knowledge '. 

189.  quest,  a  body  of  jurymen. 

192.  convict  =  convicted.  Cf.  "contract"  for  'contracted'  (iii. 
7.  179),  "acquit"  for  'acquitted'  (v.  5.  3).  See  "expiate"  in 
Glossary. 

206.  Note  that  as  soon  as  the  Murderers  begin  to  reproach 
Clarence  solemnly,  they  adopt  the  '  thou  '  of  heightened  feeling. 


136  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  II. 

212.  Sec  on  i.  4.  53. 

215.   dear,  extreme.     Cf.  ii.  2.  77. 

227.  gallant-springing.  The  metaphor  is  the  same  as  that 
implied  in  the  word  'scion'  (  =  'a  young  shoot',  literally  'a  cut- 
ting '). 

229.  My  brother's  love.     The  possessive  is  here  objective,  and 
means:  'the  love  I  lx>re  my  brother". 

230.  Thy  brother's   love.     There    is   a  complicated    piece   of 
word-play  here.     The  phrase  may  mean  either  (I)  'the  love  we  bear 
thy  brother' — and  so  Clarence  understands  it,  or  (2)  'the  love  of 
thy  brother  for  thee ' — and  this  irony  the  audience  would  appreciate. 
Further,  while  the  Murderer  s|>eaks  of  Richard,  Clarence  is  thinking 
of  Edward. 

240.  Here  again  there  is  equivocation.  Clarence  supposes  that 
the  Murderers  are  acceding  to  his  request;  really  they  are  only 
referring  to  the  instructions  given  them  in  1.  345  of  the  preceding 
scene. 

246.  Cf.  i.  3.  354. 

247.  kind.      The   reply   seems   to   show   that    (as    Mr.   Wright 
suggests)  the  First  Murderer  understands  "kind"  in  the  sense  of 
'  natural '. 

253.   labour,  work  out. 
255.  Cf.  i.  I.  1 1 8. 

270.  This  appeal  is  addressed  to  the  Second  Murderer,  who  once 
more  begins  to  relent  as  the  time  for  action  approaches. 

271.  i.e.    'unless  you  are  more  more  hardened  than  your  looks 
lead  me  to  believe '. 

273.  you  refers  to  both. 

275.   The  First  Murderer  makes  at  Clarence  from  behind. 
280.   grievous  guilty.     See  on  i.  2.  35. 

288.  take  order,  make  arrangements.  Cf.  iii.  5.  106;  iv.  2.  53: 
4-539- 


Act  II.— Scene  I. 

This  scene  well  illustrates  the  free  way  in  which  Shakespeare 
handled  his  materials.  The  Chronicle  speaks  only  of  Dorset  and 
Hastings  as  being  present  at  the  reconciliation.  The  other  nobles 
here  introduced  were  widely  scattered  at  the  time  (cf.  Introduction, 
p.  12).  Again,  the  interview  with  Derby  is  elaborated  out  of  a 
single  sentence  in  Holinshed,  who— speaking  of  Edward's  remorse 


Scene  i.J 


NOTES. 


'37 


Clarence's  death— says:  "  When  anie  person  sued  to  him  for  the 
irdon  of  malefactors  condemned  to  death,  he  would  accustomablie 
lie,  and  openlie  speake,   '  Oh  unfortunate  brother,  for  whose  life 
aot  one  wold  make  sute  '".     (Cf.  Introduction,  p.  12.) 

3.  embassage,  embassy. 

5.  part  =  depart.  The  shorter  form  is  very  common  in  Shake- 
re,  e.g.  of  the  death  of  young  Siward,  "They  say  he  parted  well" 
facbeth,  \.  8.  52). 

8.    '  Let  your  outward  signs  of  friendship  be  no  mask  of  hatred, 
at  an  expression  of  love  warranted  by  your  oath.' 
12.  dally,  trifle. 

20.  have  been  factious,  have  taken  sides.  Cf.  i.  3.  128.  The 
resent  example  shows  how  easy  is  the  transition  to  the  modern 
aeaning. 

29.  princely.     The  epithet  is  not  an  empty  compliment;  Buck- 
jham  was  the  nearest  heir  to  the  throne  after  Richmond. 

33,34.  but... Doth  =  ' and  does  not'.     See  Abbott,  Shak.   Gr., 

125- 

37.  most  assured:  most  simply  explained  as  an  ellipsis. 

39.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  179,  1.  38. 

43.  Notice  the  '  tragic  irony '. 

44-  Cf.  i.  3.  238. 

51.  swelling,  full  of  anger.     For  the  metaphor  cf.  ii.  2.  117. 
wrong-incensed,  perversely  enraged. 

59.  friendly.     See  on  i.  i.  15. 

64.  cousin.     Richard's  mother  and  Buckingham's  grandmother 

ere  sisters  (cf.  on  1.  29).  But  cottsin  was  used  loosely  to  denote 
.Imost  any  kinsman  or  kinswoman.  It  means  '  grandchild '  in  ii.  2. 

and  4.  9,  and  '  nephew  '  in  iii.  I.  117,  and  iv.  4.  22 1.  Occasion- 
Jly  it  is  a  mere  title  of  courtesy. 

70.  at  odds,  out  of  agreement  with. 

79.  The  announcement  of  Clarence's  death  is  made  strikingly 
Tective  by  being  put  into  Richard's  mouth. 

88.  winged  Mercury.      Cf.  iv.    3.    55.      So  in  Henry   V.,  ii. 
al.  7>  the  youth  of  England  are  described  as — 

"  Following  the  mirror  of  all  Christian  kings, 
With  winged  heels,  as  English  Mercuries  ". 
90.  lag,  late. 

92.   in  blood,  in  kinship.     Steevens  appropriately  cites  Macbeth, 
3.  146— 

"  The  near  in  blood, 
The  nearer  bloody". 


138  KIM;    KICIIAKD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  II. 

Richard  is  hinting  at  the  queen's  relatives,  on  whom  he  is  anxious 
In  cast  the  suspicion  of  having  hurried  on  the  execution  of  Clarence. 
Cf.  11.  134  ff. 

94.   current.     Cf.  i.  2.  84. 

from  has  here  the  sense  of  '  free  from ',  as  in  iii.  5.  32. 

96.     Sec  in  ii.  I.  131. 

99.  forfeit... of  my  servant's  life,  my  servant's  life  which  has 
fallen  forfeit. 

104.   was  thought,  i.e.  never  passed  into  action. 

107.  be  advised,  be  careful.  Cf.  "  unadvisedly  "  =  '  carelessly ', 
iv.  4.  292. 

115.  lap,  wrap  up. 

117.  thin,  i.e.  thinly  clad. 

120.  to  =  asto.     Cf.  iii.  2.  2". 

121.  i.e.  when  any  of  the  humlilcst  of  your  retainers. 

122.  123.   defaced... image.      Cf.    "That  foul  defacer  of  God's 
handiwork"  (iv.  4.  51);  and  Genesis,  i.  27:   "God  created  man  in 
His  own  image  ". 

129.   beholding  =r « l>eholden'.     See  Glossary. 

131.  This  outburst  of  remorse  fitly  marks  the  king's  final  exit :  he, 
too,  deserves  the  death  that  is  impending. 

133.  Hastings   was   lord   chamberlain.     Cf.    i.    I.    77.     For  the 
scansion,  see  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  184,  I.  14. 

134.  This,  i.e.  this  agony  of  remorse. 
137.   still.     Cf.  i.  3.  222. 

Scene  2. 

The  extent  to  which  children  are  introduced  into  this  play  is 
quite  remarkable.  It  almost  seems  as  if  Shakespeare  had  been  bent 
on  exploring  every  available  source  of  '  pity  and  terror '.  From  the 
point  of  view  of  pathos  the  experiment  is  very  successful,  as  it  is  also 
in  the  case  of  Prince  Arthur  in  King  John*  Yet  it  was  seldom 
repeated ;  and,  when  we  come  to  Coriolantts,  we  find  young  Marcius 
used  practically  as  a  lay  figure.  Possibly  the  explanation  lies  in  the 
difficulty  of  getting  children's  parts  effectively  acted.  A  picture  of  a 
very  different  side  of  child-life  is  given  in  the  inimitable  interview 
between  Sir  Hugh  Evans  and  William  in  the  Merry  Wives  (iv.  I. 
14  ff.). 

7.  If  that.     For  the  that  cf.  v.  3.  202,  and  see  Abbott,  Shak. 
Gr.,  §§  287-8. 

8.  cousins.     See  on  ii.  I.  64. 


:ene  2.]  NOTES.  139 


140  KING    RICHARD  THE   THIRD.  [Act  II. 

115.  spent,  exhausted,  finished. 

118.  splinter'd,  joined  by  splints.  It  is,  of  course,  this  union 
that  is  to  be  "preserved,  cherish'd,  and  kept":  the  subject  to 
"must"  is  not  "  rancour"  merely,  but  "broken  rancour... splintered, 
knit,  and  join'd  together". 

120.  What  is  the  subject  to  "  soemeth"? 

121.  from  Ludlow.    Ludlow  Castle,  in  Shropshire,  was  formerly 
a  royal  residence.     It  was  there  that  Edward  Vl.  was  proclaimed 
king.    There,  too,  that  Milton  wrote  his  Camus.    The  young  prince 
had  been  sent  to  Ludlow  under  the  guidance  of  Lord  Rivers. 

Ol>serve  how  Richard  allows  Buckingham  to  play  the  man  of  action 
here.  The  hypocritical  plea  that  the  escort  should  be  small,  was 
really  put  forward  in  order  that  Rivers  might  be  easily  seized.  The 
suggestion  that  this  was  Richard's  motive  for  insisting  that  the  King 
should  not  "come  up  strong",  is  taken  from  Holinshcd.  The  inter- 
vention of  Buckingham,  however,  is  a  feature  introduced  by  Shake- 
speare. Modern  historians  are  more  than  doubtful  of  the  truthfulness 
of  the  narrative  in  the  Chronicle.  Mr.  Gairdner  in  his  article  on 
Edward  V.  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Hiografhy  says :  "  Probably 
there  would  have  been  a  pitched  liattle,  but  that  the  council  in  London 
had  strongly  resisted  a  proposal  of  the  queen  dowager  that  the  young 
King  should  come  up  with  a  very  strong  escort.  As  it  was,  a  good 
deal  of  armour  was  found  in  the  baggage  of  the  royal  suite,  which, 
taken  in  connection  with  some  other  things,  did  not  speak  well  for 
the  intentions  of  the  Woodville  party." 

127.  estate,  commonwealth. 

128.  bears,  manages,  directs. 

136.  apparent  likelihood,  clear  prospect. 

137.  by  much  company,  i.e.  by  a  large  escort. 
141.  go  we:  jussive. 

144.  censures,  opinions.  It  occurs  in  the  modern  senst  in  iii.  5. 
68. 

148.  sort,  contrive.     See  Glossary. 

149.  index.     See  Glossary. 

151.  consistory,  now  usually  applied  to  an  ecclesiastical  assembly, 
has  here  the  sense  of  '  council-chaml>er',  used  figuratively.  Observe 
how  completely  Buckingham  is  fooled  by  the  use  of  the  very  weapon 
he  had  himself  been  handling. 

Scene  3. 

From  a  mechanical  point  of  view  the  scene  is  necessary,  in  order 
to  allow  time  for  the  arrest  of  Rivers.  But  it  also  serves  another 
purpose:  it  reminds  us  of  the  great  current  of  ordinary  life  that  is 
only  indirectly  affected  by  the  storm  raging  round  the  throne. 


:ene  3.] 


NOTES. 


141 


lodern  stage  managers  would  omit  this  scene,  just  as  they  omit  the 
last  forty  lines  of  Hamlet.  Shakespeare's  instinct  was  far  truer.  If 
the  drama  is  to  be  a  mirror  of  the  world,  such  scenes  are  essential. 
Note  that  each  Citizen  has  a  distinct  and  well-marked  character,  the 
Third  being  most  pessimistic. 

4.   seldom  comes  the  better:  a  proverbial  expression,  implying 
listrust  of  all  change.     Better  is  here  used  as  a  substantive. 

6.  Give  you.  For  the  full  form  of  the  phrase  cf.  iv.  I.  5-  Some- 
ics  the  subject  was  inserted  and  the  verb  omitted,  e.g.  Romeo  and 
'4/iet,  ii.  4.  115:  "God  ye  good  morrow,  gentlemen". 

8.  the  while.     See  Glossary.     The  construction  here  is  of  the 
tie  type  as  in  phrases  like  '  Wee  worth  the  while '. 

ii.  Cf.  Ecclesiastes,  x.  16.     Its  use  here  is  doubtless  suggested  by 
le  fact  that  in  Holinshed  Buckingham  quotes  it  at  the  Guildhall  as 
an  argument  in  favour  of  setting  aside  Edward  V. 

13.  in  his  nonage,  so  long  as  he  is  under  age. 

15.  The  language  is  compressed,  but  the  sense  is  clear. 

16.  Henry.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  179,  1.  16. 
1 8.  wot.     See  Glossary. 

20.  counsel,  advice. 

21.  virtuous  uncles.     These  were  John,  Duke  of  Bedford,  and 
amphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  both  of  whom  figure  in  King  Henry 
. 

26.  Will  touch  us  all  too  near:  because  it  was  the  common 
aple  who  would  suffer  most.     Quicqitid  delirant  reges,  plectuntur 
ichivi.     (Horace,  Epist.,  i.  2.  14). 

prevent.     See  Glossary. 
28.  haught  =  haughty.   This  short  form  is  found  only  in  the  early 
ays. 

30.  solace,  find  comfort.   Shakespeare  uses  this  word  three  times 
^transitively  ( = '  take  comfort ' ),  and  only  once  transitively  ( =  'give 

mfort').  .-ist* 

31.  we  fear  the  worst,  we  are  looking  at  the  darkest  side. 
36.   sort.     See  Glossary. 

39.  cannot. ..almost  =  ' can. ..hardly'.     Cf.  i.  3.  60. 

reason.     Cf.  i.  4.  165. 
41.  still.     Cf.  i.  3.  222. 

42,43.  mistrust  Ensuing  dangers,  are  apprehensive  of  approach- 
dangers.     Cf.  iii.  2.  87.     See  also  on  "  misdoubt"  (iii.  2.  89). 

43-  by  proof,  through  the  knowledge  that  comes  from  experience, 
ie  illustration  is  taken  almost  verbally  from  Holinshed. 

46.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  180,  1.  19. 


142  KING    RICHARD  TIIK   THIRD.  [Act  II.  80.4. 

Scene  4. 

York's  instinctive  dislike  of  his  uncle  Gloucester  is  brought  out 
even  more  strongly  in  the  next  scene  (iii.  I.  101  ff. ).  Here  the  ex- 
pression of  it  forms  an  appropriate  prelude  to  the  news  that  Richard 
has  struck  his  first  blow  against  the  doomed  princes. 

2.  Stony- Stratford,  a  market  town  in  Buckinghamshire, 
situated  on  \Yatling  Street.  It  was  a  stage  nearer  I<ondon  than 
Northampton.  The  young  king  and  his  escort  got  thus  far  l»cfore 
they  were  overtaken  by  Gloucester  and  Buckingham.  The  arrest  of 
Rivers,  however,  took  place  at  Northampton.  The  Folios  read  — 

"  Last  night  I  heard  they  lay  at  Stony-Stratford 
And  at  Northampton  do  they  rest  to-night ". 

Possibly  the  transposition  of  the  names  of  the  towns  may  be  due  to 
a  confused  knowledge  of  what  actually  took  place.  But  the  main 
motive  was  probably  a  desire  to  mend  the  metre.  For  the  scansion 
of  1.  i  see  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  185,  1.  39. 

9.  cousin.     See  on  ii.  I.  64. 

14.  since.     What  part  of  speech? 

20.  gracious,  full  of  grace.  Notice  the  play  upon  "grace"  in  1.  13 
and  1.  24. 

23.  had  been  remember'd.  For  the  construction  cf.  Macbeth, 
\.  4.  8- 

"  he  died 

As  one  that  had  been  studied  in  his  death 
To  throw  away  the  dearest  thing  he  owed, 
As  't  were  a  careless  trifle". 

28.  According  to  popular  rumour  Richard  had  all  his  teeth  when 
he  came  into  the  world:  it  is  to  this  that  York's  "biting"  jest  refers. 
Cf.  iv.  4.  49. 

35.   A  parlous  boy,  an  enfant  terrible.     See  Glossary, 
shrewd,  mischievous.     See  Glossary. 

37.  It  looks  as  if  the  queen  suspected  that  her  boy  had  overheard 
the  remark  from  herself. 

51.  jet,  encroach.     See  Glossary. 

52.  aweless,   i.e.    'without  the  power  of  inspiring  awe'.      Cf. 
"  helpless",  i.  2.  13. 

55.  unquiet    belongs  to   "wrangling"  rather   than  to   "days". 

Cf.   i.    2.    35. 

59.  The  first  infinitive  governs  the  first  noun,  the  secord  the 
second. 

63.    See  Appendix  on  Prosody ',  p.  l"jg,  1.  29. 


:t  III.  Scene  i.]  NOTES.  143 

66.  sanctuary.  A  good  account  of  the  custom  of  '  taking  sanc- 
ry'  will  be  found  in  Chambers'  Encyclopedia  (1892), — article, 
inctuary'. 

71.  The  seal,  i.e.  the  Great  Seal,  of  which  the  Archbishop  was 
lie  keeper. 

so  betide.     See  on  i.  3.  282. 

72.  tender.     Cf.  i.  i.  44. 


Act  III.— Scene  I. 

From  his  very  first  appearance  on  the  stage  young  Edward  is 
depressed  and  melancholy,  as  if  he  were  already  conscious  of  the 
shadow  cast  by  the  approaching  catastrophe.  Richard's  attitude 
«hould  be  noted  carefully.  (See  on  1.  101.)  Holinshed  says: 
"  The  duke  of  Glocester  bare  him  in  open  sight  so  reverentlie  to  the 
prince,  with  all  semblance  of  lowlinesse,  that  from  the  great  obloquie 
in  which  he  was  so  late  before,  he  was  suddenlie  fallen  in  so  great 
trust,  that  at  the  councell  next  assembled  he  was  made  the  onelie 
man,  chosen  and  thought  most  meet  to  be  the  protector  of  the  King 
and  his  realme,  so  that  (were  it  destinie  or  were  it  follie)  the  lambe 
was  betaken  [handed  over]  to  the  woolfe  to  keepe  ". 

1.  chamber:  used  here  in  the  (obsolete)  sense  of '  royal  residence', 
ipital',  '  camera  regis '. 

2.  cousin.     See  on  ii.  I.  64. 
sovereign.     See  on  i.  4.  142. 

4.  crosses,  troubles.  He  refers  mainly  to  the  attest  of  his 
mother's  relatives,  especially  his  uncle  Rivers.  Cf.  1.  6. 

9.  distinguish,  discern,  understand. 

10.  he.     See  on  i.  3.  212. 

n.  jumpeth  with,  moves  along  with,  i.e.  agrees  with.  "  Jump:> 
was  used  as  an  ad  verb  ='  exactly',  e.g.  "jump  at  this  dead  hour". 
(Hamlet,  i.  I.  65). 

22.   slug,  sluggard. 

31.  indirect:  i.e.  not  straightforward. 

32.  Cardinal  Bourchier  headed  a  deputation  of  the  Council  sent  by 
.the  Protector  to  visit  the  Queen  in  sanctuary,  and  persuade  her  to 
give  up  the  Duke  of  York  to  bear  his  brother  company  in  the  Tower. 
-Holinshed  tells  us  that  Richard  proposed  him  for  this  duty  as  being 
an  li  honourable  trustie  man,  such  as  both  tendereth  the  king's  weale 
.and  the  honour  of  his  councell,  and  is  also  in  favour  and  credence 

rith  hir ''. 

37.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  181,  1.  33. 


144  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.         [Act  III. 

44.  senseless-obstinate.     Fur  a  similar  compound  cf.  i.  iii.  142. 

45.  ceremonious  and  traditional,  scrupulous  about  forms  and 
ready  to  be  influenced  by  custom. 

46.  This  line  is  difficult,  and  has  been  variously  explained.     It 
seems  simplest  to  take  "  weigh"  in  the  sense  of  '  consider',  and  "  of 
this  age"  as  opposed  to  "traditional"  in  1.  45.     NVe  should  then 
naturally  expect  something  to  balance  "ceremonies";  and  "gross- 
ness"  might  well  have  the  meaning  of  'bluntness',  'disregard  for 
nice  distinctions'.     (Cf.  Hamlet,  i.  I.  68:  "in  the  gross  and  scope 
of  my  opinion".)     The  line  might  then  be  paraphrased  thus:  '  Look 
at  the  question  broadly,  as  people  do  nowadays'.      The  point  of 
Buckingham's  argument  is  that  \  ork  had  no  right  to  the  protection 
afforded  by  a  sanctuary — partly   because  he  was  too  innocent  to 
require  it,  partly  because  he  was  too  young  to  understand  what  it 
meant.     Shakespeare  is  here  following  Holinshed  closely. 

50.  wit,  understanding.     See  "  wot  "  in  Glossary. 
60.  speedy.     See  on  i.  I.  15. 

68.  Ablxjtt  (Shak.  Gram.  §.  409)  explains  this  as  a  confusion  of 
two  constructions,   "  I  dislike  the  tower  ntore  than  any  plate  ",  and 
"  mo;t  of  all  places  ". 

69.  The  Tower  was  not  begun  until  the  time  of  William  the  Con- 
queror.     In  Richard  II.  (v.  i.  2)  it  is  called  "Julius  Ousar's  ill- 
erected  tower".     Tradition  has  a  tendency  to  associate  any  work 
whose  history  is  obscure,  with  some  well-known  name.     The  editor 
has  heard  a  modern  Greek  attribute  the  Parthenon  to  Alexander  the 
Great. 

71.  re-edified,  rebuilt,  i.e.  repaired  from  time  to  time. 
77.  retail'd,  recounted.  Cf.  iv.  4.  335.  See  Glossary. 
79.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody \  p.  180,  1.  9. 

81.  without  characters:  i.e.  even  without  a  written  record. 

82.  the  formal  vice,   Iniquity.     In  the  Moralities  one  of  the 
conventional  ("formal")  characters  was  the  Vice,  whose  struggles 
with  the  Devil  were  the  occasion  of  a  great  deal  of  comic  '  business'. 
The  allusion  here  shows  that  he  was  given  to  punning.     From  other 
passages  we  learn  that  he  carried  a  wooden  sword  with  which  he 
used  to  belabour  his  adversary  (Twelfth  Night,  iv.  2.  134).     It  is  to 
him  that  Hamlet  refers  when  he  calls  his  uncle  "a  vice  of  kings" 
(Hamlet,  iii.  4.  98),  i.e.  a  caricature  of  royalty. 

83.  moralize,  comment    upon,  explain,    interpret.      The  "one 
word"  is  "live  long" — the  only  part  of  Gloucester's  remark  that 
might  have  reached  the  Prince's  ear.     Mr.   Marshall  in  the  Henry 
/ruing  Shakespeare  thinks  the  play  lies  in    "  without  characters". 
The  suggestion  is  tempting.      But,  according  to  the  Nrw  English 
Dictionary,   'character'    is  not  used  in  the  sense  of  'strongly  de- 
veloped moral  qualities'  until  the  eighteenth  century. 


:ene  i.] 


NOTES. 


145 


84.  Attention    has   often    been    drawn    to    Shakespeare's    many 
iferences  to  Julius  Caesar.      Apart  altogether  from  the  play    that 

irs  his  name,  he  is  more  frequently  alluded  to  than  any  other  his- 
rical  personage. 

85.  The  position  of  "  with  "  makes  the  line  a  little  difficult :   in 
prose  it  would  follow  "wit".     For  wit  see  on  iii.  i.  50.     The  ela- 
borate and  somewhat  forced  antithesis  between  "wit"  and  "valour" 
is  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  '  chiasmus ',  i.e.  of  the  four  terms  the 
first  and  last  form  one  pair,  the  second  and  third  another. 

86.  The  allusion  is  of  course  to  Caesar's  Commentaries. 

87  f.     In  Sonnet  Ixxxi.  Shakespeare  expresses  similar  faith  in  the 
imortality  his  own  pen  can  confer : — 
"  Your  monument  shall  be  my  gentle  verse, 
Which  eyes  not  yet  created  shall  o'er-read, 
And  tongues  to  be  your  being  shall  rehearse 
When  all  the  breathers  of  this  world  are  dead; 
You  still  shall  live — such  virtue  hath  my  pen — - 
Where  breath  most  breathes,  even  in  the  mouths  of  men" 

91.   An  if.     See  Glossary. 

94.  lightly,  readily,  commonly.     The  line  means:   'When  the 
aring  comes  too  soon,  the  summer  is  apt  to  be  short '. 

99.  late,  recently.     Cf.  ii.  2.  149. 

101.  cousin.  See  on  ii.  I.  64.  The  difference  between  the 
character  of  the  two  Princes  should  be  noted,  as  well  as  the  differ- 
ence Richard  makes  in  his  manner  of  treating  them.  The  elder  is 
grave  and  thoughtful,  as  if  he  were  weighed  down  with  a  sense  of 
the  responsibility  that  rested  on  him.  The  intellect  of  the  younger 
is  keener:  he  is  "bold,  quick,  ingenious,  forward,  capable".  Both 
have  their  suspicions,  if  not  with  regard  to  their  own  fate,  at  least 
with  regard  to  the  fate  of  their  relatives.  But  the  Prince  is  content 
to  hint  at  his  fears  (1.  148),  while  York  makes  no  secret  of  his  feel- 
ings. Richard  is  studiously  polite  to  his  elder  nephew;  with  the 
younger  he  bandies  words  full  of  grim,  tragic  irony  (1.  in).  On 
the  audience,  who  knew  the  death  that  was  in  store  for  the  children, 
this  scene  would  leave  the  impression  of  a  tiger  playing  with  his 
'ictims. 

103.  idle,  unprofitable.     Cf.  i.  I.  31. 

107.  beholding.     Cf.  ii.  I.  129.     See  Glossary. 

109.   in  me,  over  me. 

no.  Note  the  tragic  irony  that  pervades  York's  speeches.   Richard's 
,  on  the  other  hand,  is  deliberate,  for  he  had  already  decided 
make  away  with  his  nephews. 

114.   And  being.     The  syntax  is  somewhat  loose  here.     Cf.  iii. 
92. 

(11233)  K 


146  KIM;  RICHARD  THi-:  THIRD.        [Act  IIL 

1 18.  York  plays  ujxin  the  word  "light'',  using  it  in  the  sense  of 
4  valueless '. 

126.   will  still  be,  always  insists  on  being. 

128  ff.  York  likens  himself  to  a  monkey,  that  he  may  have  a  chance 
of  referring  to  the  shape  of  his  uncle's  shoulders.  Johnson  sees  a 
further  allusion.  He  says:  "At  country  shows  it  was  common  to 
set  the  monkey  on  the  back  of  some  other  animal,  as  a  bear.  The 
Duke,  therefore,  in  calling  himself  afe  calls  his  uncle  bear."  This 
is  possible.  For  that  the  bear  and  the  apes  were  often  associated  is 
clear  from  Afiich  Ado,  ii.  I.  42:  "I  will  even  take  sixpence  in 
earnest  of  the  bear- ward,  and  lead  his  apes  into  hell"  (i.e.,  'I'll 
die  an  old  maid  '). 

148.    He  is  thinking  of  Rivers. 

150.  Stage 'direction,  Mr.  Wright  has  shown  (Clar.  Press  Ed. 
of  King  I^ear,  i.  i.  35)  that  a  "sennet"'  is  a  set  of  notes  upon  a 
trumpet,  marking  the  entrance  or  exit  of  a  procession. 

152.  incensed,  stirred  up. 

154.   parlous.     See  on  ii.  4.  35. 

155    capable,  intelligent,  able.     Cf.  "incapable"  in  ii.  2.  18. 

157  ff.  Note  that  Richard  allows  Buckingham  to  take  the  initiative 
in  instructing  Catesby.  Here,  as  in  ii.  2.  112  ff. ,  it  suits  his  purpose 
to  let  him  play  the  leader.  But  it  is  Richard  himself  who  authorizes 
Catesby  to  announce  the  impending  execution  of  the  queen's  relatives; 
and  it  is  he  who  in  his  short,  sharp,  decisive  fashion  pronounces  the 
doom  o!  Hastings. 

159.  closely:  possibly  to  be  taken  (like  "deeply  ")  with  "sworn", 
in  the  sense  of  '  secretly '.  It  is  more  natural,  however,  to  suppose 
that  it  modifies  "conceal",  in  which  case  the  expression  is  a  little 
confused — unless,  indeed,  we  take  "deeply"  with  "effect",  in  the 
sense  of  'cleverly'  (cf.  iii.  5.  5). 

164.  seat  royal.     The  position  of  the  adjective  points  to  the  time 
when  French  was  the  language  of  the  governing  class  in  England, 
and  particularly  of  the  law-courts.      Similar  phrases  still  survive — 
'  blood  royal ',  '  heir  apparent ',  '  letters  patent '. 

165.  his  father's  sake,  i.e.  the  Prince's  father  r,  sake.     Holinshed 
expressly  mentions  the  loyalty  of  Hastings  to  Edward.     Cf.  iii.  2.  53. 

169.  no  more  but  this.     Cf.  iv.  2.  82. 

173.   sit  about,  attend  a  council  about. 

177.  your  talk.  Dr.  Abbott  points  out  that  the  number  of  the 
possessive  adjective  changes,  because  your  talk—  '  the  talk  l»etween 
thee  and  him '. 

179.  divided  councils.  Two  separate  meetings  were  held,  one 
known  to  be  loyal,  the  other  composed  of  Richard's  adherents. 

183.   blood  must  be  parsed  as  the  '  retained  '  object. 


: 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  147 

183.   Pomfret-castle.     The  castle  of   I'ontefract   (in   the  West 
iding  of  Yorkshire)  was  built  in  1080,  and  dismantled  by  Lambert, 
the  Parliamentary  general,  in  1649.     It  was  here  that  Richard  II. 
as  murdered.     Cf.  iii.  3.  1 1  f. 

185.   Hastings  took  Jane  Shore  under  his  protection  after  Edward's 
!eath.     Delius  sees  an  allusion  to  their  intimacy  in  i.  I.  75,  where 
see  note. 

1 88.  Richard  repeats  the  same  question  in  iv.  2.  84,  when  he  sends 
Tyrrel  on  his  murderous  errand.  The  coincidence  can  hardly  be 
accidental.  Cf.  iv.  I.  85;  v.  3.  118  ff. 

191.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  182,  1.  8. 

192.  complots,  plots.    Cf.  "complaints"  in  the  sense  of  '  plaints' 
in  ii.  2.  67. 

195.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  179,  1.  19. 

200.  digest,  arrange.  So  in  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  460,  we  have  "  an 
excellent  play,  well  digested  in  the  scenes". 

Scene  2. 


148  KING    RICHARD   THK   THIRD          [Act  III. 

58  f.  The  grammar  of  these  two  lines  is  difficult.  They  are  in- 
tended to  explain  the  "this"  of  I.  57;  and  "their  tragedy... who" 
seems  to  be  equivalent  to  "the  tragedy  of  those  who",  so  that  "they" 
is  superfluous. 

62.  Hastings's  confidence  in  his  own  ability  to  do  harm  grows  with 
characteristic  rapidity.  The  "  twelvemonth  ''  of  1.  57  has  shrunk 
into  a  "  fortnight ". 

71.  The  princes  both:  i.e.  Richard  and  Buckingham.     See  on 
ii.  I.  29. 

72.  the  bridge :  London  Bridge,  where  the  heads  of  traitors  were 
exposed. 

76.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody ',  p.  179,  1.  15. 

77.  rood,  cross.     See  (ilossary. 

78.  several,  separate. 
83.  state,  position. 

87.  mistrust,  be  apprehensive.     Cf.  ii.  3.  42. 

89.  misdoubt,  suspect.  The  simple  verb  is  used  in  a  similar 
sense,  e.g.  "I  doubt  some  foul  play''  (Jlamltt,  i.  2.  256). 

91.  shall  we  toward.     Such  omissions  of  the  verb  of  motion  are 
frequent,  e.g.  i.  2.  29. 

the  day  is  spent.  Attention  lias  l>een  drawn  to  the  apparent 
inconsistency  between  this  and  1.  5,  where  we  are  told  it  is  early 
morning.  But  after  all  the  phrase  need  not  mean  that  the  day  is  'far 
spent '.  It  was  not  yet  dinner-time:  see  1.  122. 

92.  have  with  you  =  ' let  me  have  (i.e.  keep)  with  you',  'come 
along '. 

Wot.     See  Glossary. 
94.   truth,  loyalty.     '  True '  is  still  used  = '  loyal '. 

97.  Pursuivant:    properly    the    attendant    or    follower    (pour- 
suivre)  of  a  herald. 

98.  sirrah.     See  Glossary. 

103.   By  the  suggestion,  at  the  instigation.     See  Glossary. 

107.  hold,  continue. 

108.  Gramercy.     See  Glossary. 

111.  Sir.     Priests  who  had   taken  a  bachelor's  degree,  went  by 
this  title.     Cf.  Sir  Oliver  Martext  in  As  You  Like  //,  Sir  Nathaniel 
in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  &c. 

112.  exercise:  used  technically  in  the  sense  of  'religious  duty'. 
Cf.   iii.    7.   64,     Here  the   reference   seems  to  l>e   to  the   sermon, 
Prayers  are  still  called  '  devotional  exercises '  in  Scotland. 

113.  content,  satisfy. 

115.  they.     See  on  i.  3.  219. 


Scene  3.] 


NOTES. 


149 


116.  The  latter  part  of  this  scene  is  adapted  with  but  little  altera- 
tion from  Holinshed,  where,  however,  it  is  not  Buckingham  but 
'a  knight'  who  meets  Hastings.  To  the  remark  here  quoted  the 
Chronic /,?adds  the  following  explanation — "and  therewith  he  laughed 

an  him,  as  though  he  would  say,  Ye  shall  have  soone  ". 

Scene  3. 

Ratcliff  is  a  character  of  much  the  same  type  as  Catesby.  It  is 
ircely  necessary  again  to  draw  attention  to  the  stress  laid  upon  the 
jilt  of  the  victims  (11.  15,  16),  and  upon  the  fulfilment  of  Margaret's 
irse. 

4.  truth,  faithfulness.     Cf.  iii.  2.  94. 
8.   Dispatch.     See  on  i.  2.  182. 
II.   closure,  enclosure. 

slander  = '  scandal '.     The  two  words  have  the  same  deriva- 


13 
tion. 

2i.  true.     See  on  iii.  2.  94. 

23.  expiate,  finished,  fully  come. 


See  Glossary. 


Scene  4. 

The  young  king  had  entered  London  on  Mav  4th.     Hastings  was 

rrested  at  a  meeting  of  Council  on  June  I3th.     In  the  details,  and 

en   in   the   language,    of  this  scene  Shakespeare  is  reproducing 

lolinshed  very  closely.      The  most  notable  difference  is  the  pro- 

tiinent  part  here  assigned  to  Buckingham  as  Gloucester's  confidant. 

Holinshed's  description  the  Protector,  when  he  withdraws,  makes 

10  pretence  of  consulting  anyone. 

I.   at  once,  to  come  straight  to  the  point. 

5.  wants  but  nomination:  i.e.  'the  day  only  requires  to  be 
imed '. 

8.  inward,  intimate. 

10.  The  contrast  between  this  speech  of  Buckingham's  and  the  one 
f  Hastings  that  follows,  should  be  noted  carefully.  Buckingham 

some  degrees  nearer  Richard  in  ability.     His  duplicity  is  more 

in  a  match  for  the  self-confidence  and  presumption  of  Hastings; 
id  yet  the  audience,  with  their  fuller  knowledge,  would  feel  that 
ackingham  unwittingly  uttered  what  was  profoundly  true  in  1.  13, 
ad  what  was  profoundly  untrue  in  11.  II,  12. 

25.  neglect,  cause  to  be  neglected.  ' 

27.  cue.  See  Glossary.  For  other  theatrical  metaphors  cf.  ii.  2. 
3,  39;  iv.  4.  68,  91. 

33.  This  incident  of  the  strawberries  comes  from  Holinsked, 
nd  ultimately  from  More,  to  whom  it  was  probably  communicated 


150  K1XC,    RICHARD   TIIK   THIRD.         [Act  HI. 

by  Ely  himself  (see  /ntroiluttion,  p.  II).  It  has  no  real  connec- 
tion with  the  course  of  the  play,  for  the  tcmjxirary  withdrawal  of 
Ely  is  quite  unnecessary.  At  the  same  time  there  is  no  doubt 
that  it  brings  Richard's  dissimulation  and  self-control  into  greater 
prominence,  while  it  also  provides  a  dramatic  contrast  to  the  scene 
that  follows  Gloucester's  re-entrance. 

36.  and  will.  Such  omissions  of  the  subject,  where  it  can  be 
easily  supplied,  are  not  uncommon  in  Shakespeare. 

41.  worshipful.     See  on  iii.  7.  138. 

44.   triumph:  used  here  for  'ceremonial '  in  a  general  sense. 

47.  prolong'd,  j>ostponed.  So  in  Eztkitl,  xii.  22:  ''The  days 
are  prolonged"  is  contrasted  with  "The  days  are  at  hand"  of  the 
following  verse.  (Cf.  verse  25  of  the  same  chapter.) 

50.  cheerfully  and  smooth.    See  on  i.  I.  22. 

51.  conceit,  idea.     See  Glossary. 

likes,  pleases.  Dr.  Abbott  (SJtat.  Gram.  §  297)  draws  atten- 
tion to  the  great  number  of  impersonal  verbs  used  in  Elizabethan 
English. 

57.  likelihood,  [outward]  sign. 

58.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  I  So,  1.  19. 

61.  Holinshed  tells  us  that  when  Richard  re-entered  on  this 
occasion,  he  was  "changed  with  a  wonderfull  soure  angrie  coun- 
tenance, knitting  the  browes,  frowning  and  fretting,  and  gnawing 
on  his  lips". 

66.   presence:  collective,  not  abstract.     Cf.  i.  3.  54. 

70.  "And  therwith  he  plucked  up  his  dublet  sleeve  to  his  ell>ow 
upon  his  left  arme,  when  he  shewed  a  weerish.  withered  anne,  and 
small ;  as  it  was  never  other/' 

73.  Consorted  with,  in  league  with.  The  word  occurs  in  a 
good  sense  in  iii.  7.  137. 

80.  Ratcliff.  The  appearance  of  Ratcliff  here  is  due  to  confusion 
of  some  kind  with  Catesby.  The  two  fulfil  much  the  same  sort  of 
function  in  the  play,  and  it  is  possible  that  (as  has  been  suggested) 
vxith  were  played  by  the  same  actor.  At  all  events  it  should  obvi- 
ously be  Catesby  who  is  present  now;  for  in  the  preceding  scene — 
which  is  supposed  to  take  place  on  the  same  day — we  find  Ratcliff 
at  Pomfret,  of  which  castle  he  was  governor. 

83.  '  Had  I  not  been  so  foolish,  I  might  have  taken  precautions 
against  this.'  See'  "  fond  "  and  "  prevented  "  in  Glossary. 

86.  foot-cloth  horse.      The   '  foot-cloth '  was  a  rich  covering 
that  hung  over  the  sides  of  a  horse:  it  was  only  used  when  the  horse 
was  not  required  to  proceed  at  more  than  a  walking  pace. 

87.  startled,  started. 


Scene  5.]  NOTES.  151 

89.  want  the  priest.     He  has  "shriving  work  on  hand"  now. 

94.  See  on  i.  3.  197. 

96.  Dispatch,  make  haste.     See  on  i.  2.  182. 

98.  momentary,  lasting  but  a  moment,  transitory. 

100.  in  air  of  your  good  looks:  i.e.  on  the  airy  foundation  of 
men's  friendly  looks. 

104.  bootless.     See  "  boot "  in  Glossary. 

109.  i.e.  'Some  of  those  that  are  now  smiling  at  me,  will  soon 
meet  the  same  fate'. 

Scene  5. 

The  stage-direction  "  in  rotten  armour,  marvellous  ill-favoured" 
is  best  explained  by  Holinshed,  who  says  that  it  was  armour  "  such 
as  no  man  would  wene  that  they  would  have  vouchsafed  to  have 
put  on  their  backes,  excepte  some  sodeyne  necessitie  had  con- 
straigned  them ".  The  cue  of  Richard  and  Buckingham  was  to 
pretend  that  they  were  in  momentary  expectation  of  a  sudden  attack 
from  conspirators. 

5.  deep,  experienced,  skilful.  Cf.  iii.  7.  75.  For  another  de- 
scription of  acting,  see  Hamlet's  advice  to  the  players  (Hamlet,  iii.  2). 

8.   Intending,  pretending.     Cf.  iii.  7.  45. 

10.  offices,  special  functions,  places.     Cf.  "the  tongue's  office " 
Richard  77,  i.  3.  256,  and,  again,  in  the  same  play  (ii.  I.  47): — 

"  This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall ". 

25.  plainest  harmless:  best  taken  together,  the  superlative  being 

ated  as  an  adverb.     Cf.  1.  33. 

27.   book,  note-book — as  is  clear  from  the  context. 

30.  apparent,  obvious. 

31.  conversation,  connection. 

32.  from,  away  from,  free  from.     This  sense  of  the  preposition  is 
common  in  Shakespeare.     See  on  iv.  4.  255. 

attainder  of  suspect,  taint  of  suspicion.     Cf.  i.  3.  89.     For 
Mainder  see  Glossary. 

33.  covert'st  shelter'd.     See  on  1.  25. 

35.   almost.     The  effect  of  the  word  here  is  to  intensify  the  force 
"  the  rhetorical  question.     The  New  English  Dictionary  compares 
'tis  fere'  in  Latin. 
47.  fair  befall.     See  on  i.  3.  282. 
55.  have:  attracted  into  the  plural  by  frietids. 
prevented,  anticipated.     See  Glossary. 


*S3  KINC.    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

56.  heard:  prolxably  the  participle  is  due  to  a  confusion.  Dr. 
Ahlx'll  suggests  (ShaJfi.  Cr.,  §  411)  that  there  i»  an  ellipMs  of  '  to 
have'  l>eforc  "heard". 

Gx.    Misconstrue  us  in  him,  misinterpret  our  action  in  his  case. 

63.   As  well  as  — 'as  well  a*  if. 

69.  of  our  intents,  for  our  plans. 

70.  witness,  i.e.  attest  to  others. 

73.  post,  haste.     Cf.  i.  I.  146. 

74.  your  meet'st  advantage  of  the  time,  the  most  idvanta- 
geous  moment  you  can  h'nd. 

75.  Infer,  bring  forward — of  an  argument  rather  than,  as  now,  of 
a  conclusion.    Cf.  iii.  7.  12,32;  iv.  4.343;  v.  3.  314.    When  Kdward 
was  about  to  marry  Lady  Elizabeth  Grey,  his  mother,  who  objected 
strongly  to  the  match,  tried  to  prevail  upon  Lady  Eli/atxrth  Lucy  to 
come  forward  and  say  that  she  had  l>een  privately  married  to  the 
king.     When,  however,  Lady  Lucy  "  was  solemn  lie  sworn  to  saie 
the  truth,  she  confessed  that  they  were  never  ensured  ".      In  his 
speech  to  the  citizens  Buckingham  set  this  denial  aside,  and  declared 
that  "  the  children  of  King  Kdward  the  fourth  were  never  lawfullie 
begotten,   for  so  much  as  the  king  (leaving  his  verie  wife  dame 
Kli/.ihcth  Lucie)  was  never  lawfullie  married  unto  the  (jueene  their 
mother".     Cf.  iii.  7.  5,  179. 

76.  a   citizen:  a  man  named  Burdet,  a  merchant  who  dwelt  at 
the    'sign  of  the  crown'  in  Cheapside.     Hall  says:    "This  man 
merely  in  ye  rufflyng  tyme  of  King  Edwarde  ye  iiij.,  his  rage,  saied 
to  his  awne  sonne  that  he  would  make  hym  in  heritor  of  ye  croune, 
meanyng  his  awne  house:  but  these  wordes  King  Edward  made  to 
IK-  mysconstrued  and  interpreted  that  Burdet  meant  the  croune  of 
the  realme''. 

79.  sign.     In  those  days  houses  other  than  taverns  were  marked 
by   signs.     The   custom  of  numlx?ring  is  of  comparatively  recent 
origin.     It  was  only  in  1762  that  the  general  use  of  signs  was  given 
up  in  London. 

80.  luxury,  sensuality.     See  Glossary. 
85.   for  a  need,  at  a  pinch. 

92.  Being.  The  construction  is  a  little  loose :  being  agrees  not 
with  "lineaments"  but  with  'he',  supplied  from  the  "his"  of  the 
preceding  line.  Cf.  iii.  7.  II,  13. 

96.  the  golden  fee,  the  crown. 

98.  Baynard's  Castle.  This  castle  "gave  its  name  to  one  of 
the  wards  of  the  City  of  London.  It  took  its  name  from  one  Bay- 
nard>  a  nobleman  who  came  over  with  the  Conqueror  and  died  in 
the  reign  of  William  Ruftis.  ...  In  142811  was  entirely  destroyed 
by  fire,  and  was  rebuilt  by  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester;  on  whose 
death,  1446,  while  under  attainder,  it  came  into  the  possession  of 


Scene  6.]  NOTES.  153 

Henry  VI.,  and  was  given  by  him  as  a  residence  to  Richard,  Duke 
of  York.  ...  It  was  from  here  that  Edward  IV.  set  out  in  proces- 
sion, when  he  went  to  be  crowned  at  Westminster.  .  .  .  Baynard's 
Castle  was  totally  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  1666"  (Marshall). 
_'t  stood  on  the  bank  of  the  Thames,  not  far  from  St.  Paul's. 

100.  Holinshed,  speaking  of  the  efforts  made  by  Richard  and 
.Buckingham  to  win  the  people  to  their  side,  says:  "Of  spirituall 
men  they  tooke  such  as  had  wit,  and  were  in  authoritie  among  the 
people  for  opinion  of  their  learning,  and  had  no  scrupulous  con- 
science. Among  these  had  they  lohn  Shaw  clearke  brother  to  the 
maior,  and  frier  Penker,  provinciall  of  the  Augustine  friers  both 
doctors  of  divinitie,  both  great  preachers,  both  of  more  learning  than 
virtue,  of  more  fame  than  learning."  The  "bishops"  here  spoken 
of,  are  those  who  appear  after  iii.  7.  94.  Their  introduction  there  is, 
as  Mr.  Wright  points  out,  due  to  Hall.  Holinshed  does  not  mention 
them  at  all.  (Cf.  Introduction,  p.  II.) 

103.  Doctor  Shaw.  See  preceding  note,  and  also  the  Notes  on 
the  Dramatis  Persona  ("  Lord  Mayor  of  London  "). 

106.  take. ..order.  Cf.  i-4-  288.  The  arrangements  he  had  in 
view  are  more  fully  explained  in  iv.  2.  55  ff.  It  is  to  be  noted  that 
Buckingham  is  not  admitted  into  the  darkest  recesses  of  Richard's 
confidence.  The  Protector  seems  to  have  known  instinctively  that 
there  was  a  point  of  cruelty  beyond  which  his  companion  would  not 
go.  He  does  not  therefore  divulge  his  ultimate  intentions  until  he 
thinks  he  has  reached  a  position  whence  he  can  despise  the  co-oper- 
ation of  Buckingham  (iv.  2.  8). 

Scene  6. 

A  Scrivener  (Lat.  scriba)  was  one  whose  business  it  was  to  copy 
documents. 

This  short  scene  is  inserted  in  order  to  provide  an  interval  during 
which  Buckingham  may  be  supposed  to  make  his  speech  at  the  Guild- 
hall. The  corresponding  passage  in  Holinshed  runs  as  follows: 
"  Now  was  this  proclamation  made  within  two  houres  after  that 
[Hastings]  was  beheaded,  and  it  was  so  curiouslie  indicted,  and  so 
faire  written  in  parchment,  in  so  well  a  set  hand,  and  therewith  of  it 
selfe  so  long  a  processe,  that  everie  child  might  well  perceive  that  it 
was  prepared  before.  ...  So  that  upon  the  proclaiming  thereof,  one 
that  was  schoolemaister  of  Powles  of  chance  standing  by,  and  com- 
paring the  shortness  of  the  time  with  the  length  of  the  matter,  said 
unto  them  that  stood  about  him ;  Here  is  a  gaie  goodlie  cast  foule 
cast  awaie  for  hast." 

2.  engross'd,  written  out  large.  The  word  is  used  particularly 
of  a  type  of  handwriting  peculiar  to  legal  documents.  Hence  it  has 
come  to  mean  '  put  into  legal  form '. 

4.  the  sequel:  i.e.  what  follows  from  this. 


154  KIN<;    RICHARD   TMK   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

7.  piecedent,  original. 

9.  Untainted,  free  from  any  stigma. 

10.  the  while,  in  the  meantime, 
gross,  stupid. 

12.  blind:  i.e.  blind  to  his  own  danger. 

14.  seen  in  thought:  i.e.  he  who  sees  it,  must  not  betray  his 
feelings  by  any  outward  manifestation. 

Scene  7. 

The  arrest  and  execution  of  Hastings  had  taken  place  on  June 
1 3th.  Buckingham's  Guildhall  speech  was  delivered  on  June  I7th, 
and  on  the  following  day  the  deputation  appeared  at  Baynard's 
Castle.  Shakespeare  brings  all  these  events  into  the  space  of  a  few 
hours.  (Cf.  Introduction,  p.  12.) 

"  several  doors" .     Cf.  Hi.  2.  78. 
3.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  180,  1.  43. 

5.  Lady  Lucy.     See  on  iii.  5.  75. 

6.  deputy  in  France.     Warwick  went  to  France,  ana  arranged 
a  marriage  tetween  Edward  and  Bona,  sister-in-law  to  the  King  of 
France  (cf.    Third  Part  of  Henry  I'l.  iii.  3.  43  ff.).     This  contract 
Edward  declined  to  fulfil. 

11.  being.     See  on  iii.  5.  92. 

12.  infer.     Cf.  iii.  5.  75. 

13.  right  idea,  true  image. 

15.  Richard  was  an  able  general,  and  had  held  command  of  an 
army  despatched  by  Edward  IV".  to  attack  fames  III.  of  Scotland 
in  the  interests  of  the  Duke  of  Altiany  (1482).     His  most  notable 
achievement  was  the  capture  of  Berwick. 

16.  discipline,  training,  experience.     Cf.  v.  3.  17. 

25.  statuas  appears  elsewhere  as  a  trisyllable,  e.g.  twice  \njttlins 
Ctfsar  (ii.  2.  76;  iii.  2.  192). 

breathing  stones:  i.e.  things  with  life  but  without  animation. 
Cf.  "  tongueless  blocks'"  (1.  42). 

32.  inferr'd.     Cf.  iii.  5.  75. 

33.  in  warrant  from  himself,  on  his  own  responsibility. 

37.  took  the  vantage  of,  took  advantage  of,  i>.  seized  the 
opportunity  offered  by. 

40.  Argues,  proves. 

wisdoms.    The  plural  is  used  because  the  quality  is  shared  by 
several  persons.     Cf.  "sights'"  in  iv.  I.  25. 

45.  intend.     Cf.  iii.  5.  8. 


Scene  7.]  NOTES.  155 

46.  by  mighty  suit,  on  urgent  request. 

48.  churchmen,  ecclesiastics.     This  is  the  regular  sense  of  the 
word  in  Shakespeare.    It  is  only  towards  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  that  'churchman'  comes  to  mean  'member  or  supporter  of 

lie  church '. 

49.  de'scant.     The  metaphor  is  a  musical  one.     See  Glossary. 
52  f.   '  If  you  play  your  part  as  well  as  I  can  play  mine.' 

55.  leads:  the  flat  roof  of  a  house,  covered  with  lead. 

57.  withal:  an  emphatic  form  of  'with';  it  is  generally  placed 
the  end  of  the  sentence.     Cf.  Abbott,  Shaks.  Gr.,  §  196.     See 
iry. 

Divinely,  devoutly. 
64.  exercise.     See  on  iii.  2.  1 1 2. 
72.  day-bed,  couch,  sofa. 

75.  deep.     Cf.  iii.  5.  5. 

76.  engross,  make  gross,  fatten. 

me:  redundant  pronoun.     Cf.  "  I  know  thee  who  thou  art" 
fart:,  i.  24). 

33.   beads,  prayers.    This  is  the  original  meaning  of  the  word  (cf. 
erman  beten).     The  name  was  afterwards  transferred  to  the  parti 
of  the  rosary. 
95.     See  on  iii.  5.  100. 
97.  the  fall  of  vanity:  i.e.  the  fall  that  awaits  vanity. 

107.  Neglect  the  visitation,  &c.,  neglect  the  friends  who  come 
to  visit  me. 

I   112.  disgracious,  ungracious.     Cf.  "  discover  "  for  '  uncover '  in 
iv.  4.  240. 

115.  amend.     See  on  i.  3.  33. 

120.  '  The  rank  to  which  fortune  has  raised  you,  and  to  which 
your  birth  entitles  you.'  There  is  an  antithesis  between  "fortune" 
»nd  "  birth  "  ;  and  in  each  case  "  your"  applies  to  the  whole  phrase 
that  follows  it.  as  in  "your  cause  of  grief". 

125.  proper,  suitable. 

127.  graft.      The   presjent   was   originally    'graff,    so  that   this 
is  quite  correct.    The  participle  afterwards  came  to  be  used  as  a 
ent,  and  to  have  the  -ed  inflection.     Similarly  the  original  form 

' '  hoist '  was  '  hoise '  (iv.  4.  529). 

129.  blind.     See  on  v.  3.  62. 

130.  recure,  set  right  again. 

133  ff.  The  syntax  is  again  a  little  loose.  The  words  introduced 
the  first  "as"  ("protector",  &c.)  are  in  apposition  to  ''your 
cious  self",  and  are  therefore  not  strictly  parallel  to  the  words 


156  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  III. 

introduced  by  the  second  "as"  ("your  right",  &c. ),  which  are  in 
ap|»sition  to  "  the  charge  and  kingly  government  ". 

134.  factor,  one  who  acts  on  behalf  of  another,  an  agent.    Cf.  iv. 
4-  72- 

135.  successively,  in  succession. 

136.  empery.     See  Glossary. 

137.  consorted  with.     See  on  iii.  4.  73. 

138.  worshipful.     Schmidt  explains  this  as  if  it  meant  'worthy 
to  be  reverenced';  but  here  and  in  iii.  4.  41  the  word  seems  rathei 
to  imply  '  full  of  reverence '. 

144.   The  predicate  to  "  If  not  to  answer"  must  l>e  supplied  from 
the  verb  in  the  preceding  line. 

147.  fondly.     Cf.  iii.  2.  26. 

148.  See  on  1.  144. 

150.  check'd  -  should  check. 
153.  Definitively,  decidedly. 
155.  Unmerilable,  devoid  of  merit. 

157.  that  -'  if  [that]'.     Cf.  in  French  '  si... el  qtte\ 
even,  smooth. 

158.  my  ripe  revenue:  i.e.  'something  which  I  have  a  right  to, 
and  which  the  time  has  come  for  me  to  enjoy '. 

159.  much:  an  adjective  here. 
162.   For  the  metaphor  cf.  iv.  4,  233. 

166.    'I  lack  many  of  the  qualities  necessary1  for  helping  you,  if 
you  should  require  help.' 

1 68.   stealing.      For  the  sense  cf.  v.  3.  85. 

174.  argues.     Cf.  1.  40. 

175.  the  respects  thereof,  the  considerations  that  have  deter- 
mined your  attitude. 

nice,  over  subtle. 
179.   contract.     See  on  i.  4.  192. 

181.  See  on  1.  5. 

182.  sister.     She  was  really  his  sister-in-law. 

183.  petitioner.     Edward  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Lady 
Grey  when  she  came  to  sue  for  her  husl»nd's  lands.     The  scene  '» 
descril>ed  in  Third  Part  of  Henry  I'/,  (iii.  2). 

184.  a  many.     We  still  say  '  a  few  '  and  '  a  good  many '. 

187.  purchase,  capture.     See  Glossary. 

188.  pitch.    The  metaphor  is  taken  from  falconry,  the  fitch  being 
the  highest  point  the  bird  reached. 


:ene  7.] 


NOTES. 


189.  declension,  deterioration,  decline. 

bigamy.     According  to  the  law  of  the  church  bigamy  included 
iarriage  with  a  widow.     And  it  is  probably  to  this  and  not  to  his 
leged  marriage  to  Lady  Lucy  that  reference  is  here  made.    For  we 
id  in  Holinshed  that  Edward's  mother,  before  bringing  forward 
ady  Lucy  at  all,  urged  on  her  son  that  the  mere  fact  that  Lady 
Elizabeth  Grey  was  a  widow,  should  prevent  him  from  marrying  her. 
"The  onlie  widowhead  of  Elizabeth  Greie,  though  she  were  in  all 
other  things  convenient  for  you,  should  yet  suffice  (as  me  seemeth) 
to  refraine  you  from  hir  mariage,  sith  it  is  an  unfitting  thing,  and 
a  verie  blemish  and  high  disparagement  to  the  sacred  majestic  of  a 
prince,  that  ought  as  nigh  to  approach  priesthood  in  cleannesse  as  he 
^oth  in  dignitie,  to  be  defiled  with  bigamie  in  his  first  mariage." 

191 :  as  if  Edward  were  but  a  prince  '  by  courtesy'. 

192.  The  more  telling  argument  which  he  professes  to  have  in 
srve  is  the  one  set  forth  in  Hi.  5.  85. 

196.  benefit:  used  here  with  something  of  a  legal  force,  in  the 
nse  of  benefaction  or  bestowal  of  rights.     Cf.  First  Part  of  Henry 

v.  4. 152. 

197.  withal.     See  Glossary. 

198.  draw  forth,  rescue. 

210.  As.     A  parenthesis  of  this  sort  would  now  be  introduced  by 
See  Abbott,  Skaks.  Gr.,  §  1 10. 

an.  effeminate    remorse,  woman-like    compassion.      See  on 
2.  156. 

213.  egally  =  equally.     See  Glossary, 
estates,  ranks. 

219.  'zounds!  I '11  entreat.  The  Folio  reads  "we  will  entreat", 
id  consequently  omits  the  next  line.  This  is  a  good  instance  of 
type  of  changes — those  made  to  avoid  the  penalties  imposed  by 
of  Parliament  (1606)  upon  the  use  of  blasphemous  language, 
f.  Introduction,  p.  17.)  For  'zounds  see  Glossary. 
229.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  1 80,  1.  10. 

232.  your  imposition,  what  you  put  upon  me. 

233.  Your  mere  enforcement,  the  simple  fact  that  you  have 
spelled  me. 

acquittance,  acquit. 
335.  he.     See  on  i.  3.  212. 


f58  KING    RICHARD   T1IK   THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

Act  IV.     Scene  I. 

The  curtain  fell  on  Richard  hypocritically  withdrawing  to  his 
"  holy  task  ".  It  rises  on  a  group  of  thobe  who  have  suffered,  or  are 
yet  to  suffer,  most  severely  from  his  cruel  schemes.  They  know 
nothing  of  what  had  happened  at  Haynard's  Castle. 

X.  niece:  here  used  for  'grand-daughter'.  Cf.  I-alin  ttff<lis,  from 
which  the  English  word  is  derived. 

3.  for  my  life.     NVc  should  say  '  upon '. 
J.     See  Appendix  on  J'rosoi/y,  p.  180,  1.  IO. 

24.  in  law:  through  her  marriage  with  Richard. 

25.  sights.      For  the  plural  see  on  iii.  7.  40. 

26.  thy  office.      Brakenhury  was  keeper  of  the  Tower. 

27.  leave  it  so,  abandon  my  office  in  that  way. 
31.   reverend,  venerable. 

looker  on,  beholder. 

two  fair  queens:    her  two  daughters-in-law,   Elizal>eth  and 
Anne. 

41.    His  brother,  Lord  Grey,  had  already  been  put  to  death. 
43.   with  Richmond.    After  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury  Richmond 
had  taken  refuge  in  Brittany.     Cf.  iv.  3.  40;  4.  523;  v.  3.  324. 
from.     See  on  iii.  5.  32. 

46.  See  on  i.  3.  197. 

47.  counted,  acknowledged. 

49.  swift.     See  on  i.    I.    15.     Or  i>ossibly  it  may  mean  '  swiftly 
[Missing '. 

50.  my  son:   Richmond,  \vho  was  Stanley's  stepson.     Sec  on  L 
3.  20. 

53.   ill-dispersing,  'scattering  friends  miserably'  (Schmidt). 

55.  cockatrice.     See  on  i.  2.  150. 

56.  unavoided.     See  on  i.  4.  27. 

59.  inclusive  verge,  encircling  rim.  — an  allusion  to  "the  ancient 
mode  of  punishing  a  regicide  or  any  other  egregious  criminal,  viz.  by 
placing  a  crown  of  iron,  healed  red-hot,  upon  his  head  "  (Steevens). 
This  is  the  form  of  torture  Goldsmith  refers  to  in   his    Trai-elUrt 
when  he  speaks  of  "  Luke's  iron  crown  ". 

60.  round:  prol>ably  a  verb  (  =  '  surround  ').      Dr.  Abbott,  how- 
ever, regards  it  as  a  pre|x>sition. 

65.  To  feed  my  humour,  to  please  me. 

66  ff.  Anne,  like  the  rest  of  Richard's  victims,  before  her  final 
exit  openly  acknowledges  the  justice  of  the  fate  she  foresaw  to  be 
awaiting  her. 


:ene  2.] 


NOTES. 


70.  dead  saint.     See  on  i.  2.  5. 

73.   so  old  a  widow.     As  she  was  young  at   the  time  of  her 
'  husband's'  death,  she  would  have  a  long  'widowhood'  in  prospect. 
76.  life.     It  is  worth  noting  that  in  the  corresponding  passage 
2.  27)  she  says  "  death".     And  so  the  Quartos  read  here. 
80.   Grossly.     For  the  sense  cf.  "gross"  in  iii.  6.  10. 

84.  Why  is  sleep  called  "golden"  here  and  "leaden"  in  Vr 
105? 

95.  lie  :  expresses  a  wish. 

96.  Eighty  odd.    The  Duchess  was  only  sixty-eight  at  this  time. 
Shakespeare  purposely  exaggerates  her  age  to  increase  the  pathos  of 

er  situation.     Cf.  his  treatment  of  Rutland.     (See  on  i.  3.  183.) 

97.  teen.     See  Glossary.     For  the  significance  of  the  rhyme  see 
Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  187,  1.  6. 

98  ff.  This  touching  farewell  fitly  prepares  us  for  the  revelation  of 
lichard's  cruel  purpose,  which  we  have  given  us  in  the  next  scene. 
100.  envy.     See  on  i.  3.  26. 

102.  ragged,  rough.  So  in  As  You  Like  It,  ii.  5.  15 :  "  My  voice 
ragged  ". 

Scene  2. 

In  this  scene  the  climax  of  the  play  is  reached.  Richard  attains  to 
ic  summit  of  his  ambition.  But  the  consciousness  that  he  is  after  all 
surper  leads  him  to  meditate  the  foulest  of  his  crimes — the  murder 

his  innocent  nephews.    Buckingham,  who  had  followed  him  so  far, 

sitates  now  and  refuses  to  be  his  accomplice.  Richard  casts  him 
off,  and  for  the  moment  seems  to  stand  alone.  But  even  in  his  final 
interview  with  the  tool  which  he  discards,  we  can  discern  the  first 
signs  of  apprehension  and  of  loss  of  self-command,  the  first  indica- 
tions that  the  tide  of  fortune  was  to  turn  against  him. 

5.  a  =  one.     See  Glossary. 

8.  play  the  touch,  act  the  part  of  touchstone.  A  touchstone  was 
a  stone  used  to  test  the  amount  of  alloy  gold  or  silver  contains.    The 
fineness  of  the  metal  was  guaged  by  the  colour  left  when  the  touch- 
stone was  passed  over  it;    In  classical  times  the  best  touchstone  came 
from  Lydia ;  now  it  comes  from  India. 

9.  current.     Cf.  i.  2.  84. 

15.  Richard  is  not  satisfied  to  understand  Buckingham's  words  in 
ie  sense  in  which  they  were  spoken.  He  professes  to  regard  them 
it  as  a  reply  to,  but  as  a  "consequence"  (i.e.  continuation.  Cf.  iv. 

6)  of  what  he  himself  has  just  said.  (The  punctuation  of  the 
imbridge  edition,  which  is  that  of  the  Quartos  and  Folios,  has  been 

jpted  in.  1.  16,  as  bringing  out  this  point  more  clearly.)  He  mis- 
terprets  Stanley  in  a  somewhat  similar  way  in  iv.  4.  476.  A  good 

illel  will  be  found  in  King  John,  iv.  I.  10. 


160  KIM,    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.          [Act  IV. 

19.   suddenly.     Cf.  i.  3.  346. 

23.  The  details  regarding  the  murder  of  the  Princes  come  from 
Holinshed,  I'ui  the  idea  of  Buckingham  txring  consulted  is  Shake- 
speare's own. 

2J5.  resolve,  inform.     See  Glossary. 

27.  the  lip.     The  article  is  here  used  for  the  possessive  adjective 
pronoun,  as  in  French  and  Greek. 

28.  iron-witted,  '  unfeeling'  (Schmidt). 

19.  unrespective,  thoughtless.     Cf.  i.  3.  296. 

30.  considerate,  watchful,  searching. 

35.  close.     Cf.  i.  i.  158. 

37.  Note  the  double  alliteration. 

42.  witty,  artful.     Cf.  iii.  I.  50.     See  "wot"'  in  Glossary. 

51.  Holinshed  says:  "After  this  [Richard]  procured  a  common 
rumor  (but  he  would  not  have  the  author  knowne)  to  be  published 
and  spread  abroad  among  the  common  |>eople,  that  the  queene  was 
dead  ;  to  the  intent  that  she  taking  some  conceit  of  this  strange 
fame,  should  fall  into  some  sudden  sicknesse  or  greevous  maladie  ; 
and  to  proove  if  afterwards  she  should  fortune  by  that  or  anie  other 
waies  to  lease  her  life,  whether  her  people  would  impute  hir  death 
to  the  thought  or  sicknesse,  or  thereof  would  laie  the  blame  to  him." 

53.  '  I  will  make  arrangements  for  her  being  detained  indoors.' 

56.  According  to  Holinshed,  Clarence's  son  had  spent  so  much  of 
his  life  in  prison  that  he  was  quite  different  from  other  children. 

57.  Even  Catesby  is  staggered  for  a  moment  at  the  nature  of  the 
orders  he  receives. 

59.  it  stands  me  much  upon,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
me.  The  grammar  of  the  phrase  is  difficult.  Abbott  (SAa&.  Gr., 
§  204)  makes  rrtf  the  dative  case  and  upon  an  adverb,  comparing 
with  this  sense  of  it  stands  upon  the  I^atin  insfat,  and  the  Greek 


64  f.  Cf.  Matbeth,  iii.  4.  136  ff.— 

"  I  am  in  blood 

Stepped  in  so  far  that,  should  I  wade  no  more, 
Returning  were  as  tedious  as  go  o'er  ". 

65.  pluck  on,  draw  after  it. 

66.  Tear-falling,  making  tears  fall.     In  this  compound  the  verb 
is  transitive  and  governs  the  noun.     Cf.  v.  iii.  135,  163. 

75.  deal  upon,  deal  with. 

77.  open  means  to  come,  free  access. 

81.  There  is  no  more  but  so,  that  is  all.     Cf.  iii.  i.  169. 

82.  prefer  thee,  give  thee  preferment. 


:ene  3.] 


NOTES. 


161 


84.  See  on  iii.  I.  188. 

85.  Ye:  sounds  a  little  strange  and  formal,   but  is  obviously  an 
DO  of  the  royal  "we  "  of  the  preceding  line. 

98.  This  prophecy  is  again  referred  to  in  v.  3.  129.     It  occurs  in 
~hinl   '''art  of  Henry  VI. ,  iv.  6.  68. 

Henry.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  179,  1.  16. 

103.  chance.      '  How  chance  (it)  ? '  is  frequent  in  the  sense  of 
How  does  it  happen  that?' 

108.   Rougemont.    This  anecdote  is  one  of  the  incidents  mcn- 
jned  in  Holinshed,  but  not  in  Hall. 

117.  Jack.  On  old  clocks  the  hours  were  struck  by  a  little  figure 
with  a  hammer,  who  was  known  as  the  '  Jack-o'-the-clock '.  (Cf. 

ate  on  i.  3.  53.)  Richard  is  answering  somewhat  at  random,  and 
we  should  therefore  perhaps  refrain  from  pressing  the  sense  too 
"'.Dsdy.  The  general  idea,  however,  seems  to  be  that  Buckingham's 

ersistency  in  breaking  in  at  regular  intervals  upon  his  master's 
meditation  with  his  repeated  request,  is  like  the  action  of  a  'Jack' 
striking  the  hours  upon  a  bell.  Richard  expresses  the  wish  that  the 
hour  might  strike  and  be  done  with  it,  as  if  that  would  carry  with  it 
the  consequence  that  Buckingham  would  be  done  with  it  too.  In 
this  case  "keep'st  the  stroke"  will  mean  '  keepest  on  striking' 
rather  than  '  keepest  back  the  stroke '.  Mr.  Wright  gives  the 
former  meaning,  Schmidt  the  latter. 

120.  resolve.     See  Glossary. 

126.   Brecknock:  where  Buckingham  had  a  manor. 


Scene  3. 

While  the  beauty  of  the  language  softens  the  mere  physical  horror 
the  murder  (cf.  Introduction,  p.  14),  it  deepens  the  pathos  of 
children's  fate.  The  remorse  of  the  murderers  has  a  similar 
ct. 

2.  arch,  chief,  supreme.  The  adjective  is  now  generally  associ- 
ated (as  here)  with  words  that  have  a  sinister  sense — '  arch  foe ', 
1  arch  villain ',  &c. 

6.  flesh'd:  a  hunting  metaphor.  'To  "flesh"  a  dog  or  falcon 
vas  to  reward  it  with  a  portion  of  the  first  game  which  it  killed ' 
~7right).  See  Glossary. 

8.  deaths'... stories.     For  the  plurals  see  on  iii.  7.  40. 
12.  a.     See  Glossary. 

18.  replenished,  finished. 

19.  prime,  first  (in  order  of  time).     It  is  used  as  a  noun  in  the 
:  of  '  first  part '  in  iv.  4.  170. 

<  M  233  \  L 


162  KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

20.   gone,  overcome. 

25.  gave  in  charge.     Cf.  i.  I.  85. 

29  f.  According  to  Holinshed  the  priest  who  buried  the  children 
died  soon  afterwards,  carrying  with  him  to  the  grave  the  secret 
of  their  resting-place.  In  1674  during  alteration*  at  the  White 
Tower  some  workmen  discovered  the  bones  of  two  children.  It  was 
at  once  concluded  that  these  were  the  remains  of  the  young  Princes, 
and  by  Charles  the  Second's  orders  they  were  placed  in  Henry  the 
Seventh's  chapel  at  Westminster. 

31.  at  after  supper.     It  seems  simplest  to  regard  after  supper 
as  a  compound  noun,  meaning  the  lighter  meal  that  followed  supper. 
Cf.  AfulsvmiHer'Afigkt's  Dream  i  \.  l.  34. 

32.  process,  tale,  story.     Cf.  iv.  4.  253. 

37.  As  a  matter  of  history  this  scheme  for  the  marriage  of  Clar- 
ence's daughter  was  not  carried  out.  She  sul>se<»iently  l>ecame 
Countess  of  Salisbury.  Many  years  afterwards  (1541)  she  was 
cruelly  beheaded  by  Henry  VIII.,  who  was  enraged  at  the  strong 
position  her  son,  Cardinal  I'ole,  had  taken  up  on  the  Divorce  ques- 
tion. In  recording  her  death  Holinshed  says  that  she  was  "the 
lust  of  the  I'lantagenets". 

39.  Anne  died  on  March  1 6,  1485. 

40.  the  Breton.     See  on  iv.  I.  43. 

42.  looks  proudly  o'er  the  crown:  as  if  he  already  regarded  it 
as  his  own. 

46.  Ely  had  l>cen  put  into  Buckingham's  custody  at  Brecknock. 
48.   power,  army.     We  use  '  force  '  in  this  sense. 

51  ff.  'I  have  heard  that  anxious  discussion  serves  only  to  pro- 
duce delay:  delay  brings  in  its  train  helpless  and  sluggish  inactivity: 
speedy  action  must  carry  me  through  my  troubles.'  Notice  the  fine 
personifications.  The  same  feverish  desire  for  instant  action  is  very 
strongly  marked  in  Macbeth  at  the  corresponding  stage  in  hiscareer — 

"  The  flighty  purpose  never  is  o'ertook 
Unless  the  deed  go  with  it:  from  this  moment 
The  very  firstlings  of  my  heart  shall  l>e 
The  firstlings  of  my  hand7'.     (Machfth,  iv.  i.  145.) 

Attention  has  already  been  drawn  (iv.  2.  65)  to  a  striking  parallel 
between  the  two  plays,  and  others  will  readily  suggest  themselves. 
A  coni|)arison  of  these  will  show  that  there  is  much  in  Richard's 
character  that  recalls  the  more  mature  study  emlxxlied  in  Macbeth. 
(Cf.  Introduction,  p.  9). 

56.  my  counsel  is  my  shield,  i.e.  '  Deliberation  is  useless;  we 
must  fight '. 


Scene  4.] 


NOTES. 


163 


Scene  4. 

The  style  of  this  scene  is  markedly  inferior  to  that  of  the  one 
nmediately  preceding.  The  language  is  more  strained,  and  fre- 
quently falls  short  of  the  highest  level  of  tragic  dignity.  From  the 
Dint  of  view  of  dramatic  construction,  too,  the  scene  is  crude.  The 
picture  of  the  noble  ladies  seating  themselves  upon  the  ground  and 
jiving  way  to  lamentation  and  woe  has  in  it  a  naivete'  that  seems 
to  belong  to  the  infancy  of  the  drama.  It  is  this  inequality  of  work- 
manship that  has  led  to  such  hypotheses  as  that  of  Mr.  Fleay  {In- 
troduction, pp.  15,  16). 

In  his  endeavour  to  win  Elizabeth's  consent  to  his  marriage  with 
her  daughter,  Richard  shows  much  of  his  former  power.  But  in 
the  end  his  growing  apprehension  and  weakness  of  nerve  manifest 
themselves  in  the  outbursts  of  temper  to  which  he  gives  way,  as  suc- 
cessive items  of  bad  news  crowd  in  upon  him.  This  latter  part  of 
the  scene  should  be  compared  with  Macbeth,  v.  3.  II  ff. 

I  f.  The  figure  here  is  somewhat  complicated.  To  begin  with, 
we  have  the  idea  of  fruit  falling  through  being  over-ripe.  Cf. 
'facbeth,  iv.  3.  237 — 

"  Macbeth 
Is  ripe  for  shaking". 

Further,  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  death — represented  as  a  skeleton — 
waiting  to  devour  it  as  it  falls. 

2.  rotten  mouth  of  death.     The  point  of  this  has  been  ex- 
ilained  in  the  preceding  note.      Cf.  "the  hollow  eyes  of  death" 
(Richard 77,  ii.  i.  270),  and  "the  carrion  Death"  (i.e.  skull)  which 
lie  Prince  of  Morocco  finds  in  his  casket  (Merchant  of  Venice,  ii.  7. 
63).     We  still  call  a  skull  '  a  death's  head '. 

5.  induction.     Cf.  i.  I.  32. 

6.  consequence.     Cf.  iv.  2.  15. 

15.  right  for  right,  '  justice  answering  to  the  claim  of  justice ' 
Johnson).     For  the  sense,  cf.  Introduction,  p.  10,  and  for  the  col- 

ition  of  words  cf.  "  Wrong  hath  but  wrong"  (v.  I.  29).     For  the 
lyme  see  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  187,  1.  35. 

16.  aged  night.     Schmidt  ex  plains  =  'night  of  old  age'.     This 
is  hardly  adequate.     "Hath  dimmed  your  infant  morn  to  night" 
would  naturally  mean  '  hath  slain  you  in  your  infancy  ' ;  and  that  is 
the  sense  required   by  the  context.     Some  confusion,  however,  is 
caused  by  the  epithet  aged,  which  is  introduced  for  the  sake  of  the 
antithesis  to  infant.     The  two  do  not  really  balance  one  another. 
Your  infant  morn  means  '  your  bright  young  lives ' ;   aged  night 
might  be  paraphrased  as  '  the  darkness  that  death  brings  upon  the 
aged'. 

ao.  quit,  requite.     See  Glossary. 


l64  KING    KICIIAKD   THi:   THIRD.         [Act   IV. 

21.  a  dying  debt:  i.e.  a  debt  that  can  only  be  paid  by  death. 
How  would  you  parse  "dying"  here? 

24.  '  Surely  never  before  has  Providence  permitted  such  a  foul 
crime.'  So  Macduff,  when  he  hears  of  the  death  of  his  wife  and 
children  (Macbeth,  iv.  3.  223)  — 

"  Did  heaven  look  on, 
And  would  not  take  their  part  ?" 

26.   Blind  sight.     See  on  i.  2.  153. 
mortal.     For  the  sense  cf.  v.  3.  124. 

28.  Brief:  used  for  the  sake  of  the  contrast  with  "tedious".    See 
on  i.  4.  89  f.     The  Duchess,  who  is  addressing  herself,  means  that 
in  her  person  she  sums  up  the  experience  of  many  weary  years  of 
life. 

29.  lawful.     The  epithet  seems  to  have  no  special  significance 
here,  but  to  be  used  mainly  fur  the  oxymoron.    How  many  instances 
of  this  figure  can  you  find  in  these  few  lines? 

31.  thou:  i.e.  "  England's  lawful  earth". 

34.  but  I.    Cf.  ii.  2.  76. 

35.  reverend.     Cf.  iv.  i.  31. 

36.  seniory,  seniority.     "  The  benefit  of  seniory  "  is  priority. 

37.  frown  on  the  upper  hand,  take  precedence  over  yours. 

40.  Cf.  Third  Henry  /'/.,  v.  5.     For  the  iteration  see  on  i.  2.  62. 

41.  Cf.  Third  Henry  VI.,  v.  6. 
42  f.  Cf.  iv.  3. 

44-   Cf.  Third  Henry  VI.,  i.  4. 
45.    Cf.  Third  Henry  /'/.,  i.  3. 

51.  See  on  ii.  I.  122. 

52.  grand  here  has  almost  a  sinister  sense,  such  as  now  attaches 
to  ''arch"  (iv.  3.  2).     Cf.  Paradise  I*cst,  iv.  192:   "So  clomb  this 
first  grand  Thief  into  God's  fold  ". 

53.  galled,  made  painful  by  weeping.     See  Glossary. 

56.  carnal  —  carnivorous,  i.e.  cruel.  No  other  instance  ot  this 
sense  is  quoted  in  the  New  English  Dictionary. 

58.  pew-fellow,  companion :  pro|>erly  one  who  shares  the  same 
pew. 

65.  but  boot:  i.e.  he  may  be  thrown  in  over  and  above.  For 
boot,  see  Glossary. 

68.  For  the  metaphor  see  on  iii.  4.  27. 

69.  adulterate  -  adulterous. 

71.  intelligencer,  agent. 

72.  their.     For  the  plural  see  on  i.  3.  219. 


Jcene  4.]  NOTES.  165 

72.  factor.     See  on  Hi.  7.  134. 

75.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  186,  1.  21. 

77.  For  the  legal  metaphor  cf.  11.  127  f. 

79.  Cf.  i.  3.  245. 

84.  presentation,  show,  semblance. 

85.  index.     See  Glossary. 

86.  a-high  =  on  high. 

89.   A  sign:  i.e.  a  mere  sign  and  nothing  more. 

go.  Steevens  points  out  that  the  image  suggested  is  that  of  a 
standard-bearer  with  a  showy  flag  which  draws  the  enemy's  fire. 

91.  A  queen  in  jest:  as  Hamlet's  uncle  was  "a  vice  of  kings". 
See  on  iii.  I.  82. 

97.   Decline,  go  right  through  from  beginning  to  end. 

100.  caitiff.     See  Glossary. 

103.   fearing  one:  i.e.  living  in  dread  of  Richard. 

107.   no  more  but  thought,  nothing  but  the  recollection.     "A 
sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier  things." 
in.  burthen'd,  heavy. 

115.   For  the  significance  of  the  rhyme  see  Appendix  on  Prosoay, 

187,  1.  6. 

118.   fast:  imperative  mood. 

122.   Bettering,  exaggerating. 

127.  attorneys.      The  word  attorney  means  properly  'one  who 
acts  on  behalf  of  another'.     (Cf.  1.  413;  v.  3.  83.) 

128.  intestate  joys.     The  joys  are  dead,   and   they  have  died 
intestate  because  they  Ivave  left  no  joys  to  succeed  them. 

129.  Poor :  adverb  here. 

131.  Help  not  at  all,  are  of  no  real  use.  For  the  sense  of  help, 
see  on  i.  2.  13. 

135.  exclaims.     See  on  i.  2.  52. 

136.  expedition,  march. 

142.  owed,  owned.     See  Glossary. 

151.  entreat  me  fair,  treat  me  fairly. 

152.  clamorous  report,  noisy  sounds. 

157.  a  touch  of  your  condition,  'a  spice  or  particle  of  your 
temper  or  disposition'  (Johnson).  For  condition  in  this  sense  cf. 
Othello,  ii.  I.  255,  where  Roderigo  says  of  Desdemona:  "She's 
full  of  most  blessed  condition".  We  still  speak  of  an  'ill-conditioned 
fellow' 

168.  Tetchy,  peevish      See  Glossary. 


166  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

170.  prime.     See  on  iv.  3.  19. 

171.  age  confirm'd,  maturity. 

172.  kind  in  hatred:    i.e.  he  added  hypocrisy  to  his  cruelty. 
Possibly  there  is  also  a  play  on  the  double  sense  of  kind.    Cf.  i.  4.  247. 

175.  No  very  satisfactory  explanation  of  this  line  has  oeen  sug- 
gested.    Some  supfxtse  it  to  lie  a  mere  ludicrous  phrase  for  'hour', 
like    'Tom   Troth'   for    'truth'.      Others   see    in    it    an   allusion   to 
'dining  with  Duke  Humphrey' — a  euphemism  for  not  dining  at  all. 

176.  forth  of,  out  of.     "  Furth  of  Scotland"  is  still  regularly  used 
in  Scottish  legal  documents. 

177.  disgracious.     See  on  iii.   7.    112.      Observe  the  repeated 
plays  on  the  word  "grace". 

183.   See  Appendix  on  J'rosoiiy,  p.  1 80,  I.   ij. 

188.  tire:  expresses  a  wish,  as  do  "fight"  (1.  190),  "whisper1 
(1.  192),  and  "promise"  (1.  193). 

190.  on  the  adverse  party.     Cf.  i.  3.  138. 

192.   spirits  :  indirect  object. 

195.   serves,  follows, 
attend,  wait  for. 

198  ff.  The  interview  that  follows  recalls  in  many  of  its  features 
the  wooing  of  Anne  (Act  i.,  Scene  2). 

199.  moe.  See  Glossary.  Dorset,  one  of  her  sons  by  her  first 
husband,  was  still  alive. 

202.  level,  aim. 

210.   So,  on  condition  that. 

215.  opposite.     See  on  ii.  2.  94. 

217.  unavoided.     See  on  i.  4.  27. 

218.  avoided  grace,  goodness  deliberately  set  aside,  i.e.  wicked- 
ness. 

222.  cozen'd.  It  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  this  word  is 
derived  from  "  cousin''  (ionsobrinus),  and  that  it  meant  originally  '  to 
treat  one  freely  as  if  one  were  a  cousin',  hence  '  to  deceive'. 

225.   indirectly.     Cf.  iii.  I.  31. 

226  f.   Steevens  joints  out  that  this  figure  was  a  'great  favourite" 
with  Shakes|>eare.    There  is  .1  well-known  instance  in  the  trial  scene 
in  The  Merchant  of  Venice.     Cf.  Second  Henry  71'.,  iv.  5.  108. 
229.   still,  constant,  continuous. 

232.   For  the  metaphor,  cf.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  v.  3.  117 — 
"Thou  desperate  pilot,  now  at  once  run  on 
The  dashing  rocks  thy  sea-sick  weary  lark". 

234.  Rush.     The  strict  seouence  of  tenses  is  not  preserved. 


Jcene  4.] 


NOTES. 


167 


236.  dangerous  success,  'hazardous  result'  (Marshall). 
240.  discover' d.     See  on  iii.  7.  112. 

244.   type,  emblem,  sign.     The  whole  line  therefore  means  '  the 
•own'. 

247.  demise,  assign.     See  Glossary. 

249.  withal.     See  Glossary.     Here  the  word   governs  "myself 
id  all ".    Its  position  is  peculiar,  and  is  probably  due— as  Dr.  Abbott 
_^ests — to   the   fact  that  the   preceding   line  ends  with   "all". 

)therwise,  it  would  naturally  have  followed  "  thine". 

250.  So.     See  on  1.  209. 

Lethe  :  the  river  of  forgetfulness. 

253.  process.     Cf.  iv.  3   32. 

254.  telling:  i.e.  in  telling. 

date,  limit.     So  "dateless"  means  'eternal',  e.g.  "a  dateless 
bargain  to  engrossing  death"  {Romeo  and  Juliet,  v.  3.  115). 

255.  from.      The  word-play  here  depends  upon   the  ambiguity 
between  the  ordinary  meaning  of  from,  and  that  spoken  of  in  the  note 
to  iii.  5.  32.     The  Old  Testament  Revisers  have  taken  advantage  of 

tiis  ambiguity  in  rendering  Job,  xix.  26,  "Yet/;w«  my  flesh  shall 
see  God". 

274  ff.     Cf.  i.  3.  177. 

283.   Madest   quick   conveyance   with,   quickly   made  away 
\vith. 

290.  spoil,   prize.      Johnson,    however,    takes    it   as    '  waste   or 
navock '.  . 

291.  amended.     See  on  i.  3.  33. 

292.  shall  deal  unadvisedly,  cannot  help  acting  thoughtlessly. 
Shall  here   retains  its  original  force  of  obligation  ( = '  are  bound 
to  ' ),  still  preserved  in  the  German  sollen.     Cf.  Abbott,  Shak.  Gr. , 
§315- 

293.  Which.     The  antecedent  is  implied  in  the  preceding  line. 
300.  doting,  fond. 

302.  mettle.     See  Glossary.     Malone  quotes  Macbeth,  i.  7.  73 — 

"Thy  undaunted  mettle  should  compose 
Nothing  but  males". 

307.  but  a  son  being  king,  only  with  regard  to  your  son  being 
a  king. 

322.   orient,  bright  (literally 'coming  from  the  East').    Cf.  Comus, 
L  65— 

' '  Offering  to  every  weary  traveller 
His  orient  liquor  in  a  crystal  glass". 


168  KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD.         [Act  IV. 

333.    Advantaging,  increasing  by  interest.     'Advantage'  is  used 
as  a  noun  (  —  '  interest '),  e.g.  Merchant  of  I'enitf,  i.  3.  7' 
"  Methought  you  said  you  neither  lend  nor  IHMTOW 
Upon  ad  vantage''. 

335.  retail,  recount.  Cf.  iii.  I.  77.  Others  take  it  in  the  sense 
of  '  hand  over'. 

337.  were  I  best.  According  to  Al>lx>tt  (Shak.  6V.,  §  230)  the 
correct  form  of  the  phrase  '  I  were  l>est'  is  '  (for)  me  (it)  were  best', 
the  sulistitution  of  /  for  me  being  due  to  a  misunderstanding  of  the 
construction. 

340.  She  means  that  under  whatever  title  Richard  claimed  her 
daughter's  hand,  the  match  could  not  appear  otherwise  than  impious, 
illegal,  dishonourable  to  herself,  and  hateful  to  her  daughter. 

343.  Infer.  Cf.  iii.  5.  75.  In  the  'stichomuthic'  passage  which 
follows  attention  must  be  paid  to  the  close  connection  l>etween  one 
line  and  another. 

351.   For  the  antithesis,  see  on  iii.  I.  8jf.     Cf.  11.  355  f.  infra. 

354.  likes  of  it.  Abbott  suggests  that  the  use  of  of  in  such 
phrases  is  due  to  the  impersonal  verb  '  it  likes  me'.  Cf.  '  it  repents 
me'  and  '  I  repent  of  (Shak.  Gr.,  §  177). 

361.  quick.  Richard  means  'ready';  Anne  interprets  it  in  the 
sense  of  '  living'. 

366.  my  George.     The  figure  of  St.  George  and  the  Dragon 
was  not  added  to  the  insignia  of  the  Garter  till  Henry  VII. 's  reign. 
The  anachronism  is  of  no  importance. 

367.  Profaned,  dishonour'd.     The  end  of  the  line  shows  that 
the  first  of  these  participles  qualifies  "George",  the  second  "garter". 
A  somewhat  similar  arrangement  of  words  was  noted  in  ii.  4.  59. 

369.  his  :  the  regular  neuter  possessive  in  Shakespeare. 

370.  pawn'd   his  knightly   virtue,   i.e.   'forfeited    the  efficacy 
that  attached  to  it  as  a  symbol  of  knighthood'. 

379.   unity,  union,  reconciliation  (Act  ii.,  Scene  I). 

388  ff.  Richard  had  already  "  wronged  "  the  future:  for  it  would 
be  filled  with  the  lamentations  of  those  who  had  suffered  from  his 
cruelty. 

392.   Ungovern'd:  i.e.  with  none  to  guide  it. 
in  their  age,  when  they  grow  old. 

394.  with,  along  with. 

402.  opposite.     Cf.  ii.  2.  94. 

405.  tender.     Cf.  i.  I.  44. 

413.   attorney.     See  on  1.  127. 

417    peevish-fond,  childishly  foolish. 


Scene  4.] 


NOTES. 


169 


426  ff.  Elizabeth's  consent  to  the  marriage  of  her  daughter  with 
Richard  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  announcement  Derby  makes 
in  1.  17  of  the  following  scene — that  she  had  agreed  to  the  betrothal 
with  Richmond.  In  Gibber's  version  Elizabeth  is  at  this  point  made 
to  say  in  an  'aside'  that  she  will  make  a  show  of  giving  way  in  order 
to  circumvent  Richard.  Oechelhaeuser  (Essay  iiber  A'onig  Kichard 
III.)  attempts  at  great  length  to  prove  upon  aesthetic  grounds  that 
the  hypothesis  underlying  Gibber's  interpolation  is  the  proper 
solution  of  the  difficulty.  He  finds  in  this  scene  the  exact  counter- 
part of  the  interview  with  Anne  (i.  2):  there  Richard  was  advancing 
triumphantly  on  his  career  of  villainy,  and  succeeded  even  where 
success  seemed  impossible ;  here  he  is  moving  surely  towards  his 
doom,  and  is  easily  outwitted  by  the  most  transparent  of  devices. 
The  main  objection  to  Oechelhaeuser's  theory  is  that  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  Shakespeare  constructed  his  historical  plays 
on  such  a  symmetrical  system.  Further,  in  the  Chronicle  Queen 
Elizabeth  is  represented  as  a  woman  of  the  most  unstable  character, 
and  no  hint  is  given  of  her  having  practised  upon  Richard  any 
deception  of  the  sort  that  Oechelhaeuser  would  have  us  believe  in, 
the  success  of  Richard's  suit  being  expressly  attributed  to  the 
"glorious  promises  and  flattering  words "  with  which  he  "pleased 
and  appeased  the  mutable  mind  of  Queen  Elizabeth  ".  The  obvious 
interpretation  of  the  passage  is  that  Elizabeth  did  give  way.  That 
she  subsequently  changed  her  mind  is  only  another  instance  of 
the  "  inconstancie "  for  which  the  chronicler  gives  her  credit. 
Had  Shakespeare  so  far  departed  from  his  authority  as  to  allow  her 
to  defeat  Richard  with  his  own  weapons,  he  would  in  all  probability 
have  taken  pains  to  make  her  stratagem  perfectly  clear  to  the 
audience. 

438.  hull,  float  about  with  sails  furled,  i.e.  lie  to. 

449.   power.     Cf.  iv.  3.  48. 

453.  The  incomplete  lines  in  this  passage  (432,  457,  467,  &c.) 
serve  to  bring  Richard's  impatience  more  vividly  home  to  us. 

465.   White -liver'd.     The  liver  was  supposed  to  be  the  seat  of 
courage.     Lack  of  blood  would  make  it  white.     Cf.  'lily-livered'. 
The  best  commentary  on  the  word  is  Merchant  of  Venice,  iii.  2.  83 — 
"  How  many  cowards,  whose  hearts  are  all  as  false 
As  stairs  of  sand,  wear  yet  upon  their  chins 
The  beards  of  Hercules  and  frowning  Mars, 
Who,  inward  searched,  have  livers  white  as  milk", 
runagate.     See  Glossary. 
467.  See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  179,  1.  31, 
470.  the  sword, :  i.e.  the  sword  of  state. 

472.  Richard  had  been  declared  the  legitimate  heir  of  York, 
Edward's  daughter  being  pronounced  illegitimate,  and  the  heirs  of 
Clarence  being  debarred  owing  to  their  father's  attainder. 


170  KING  KICUARD  THE  THIRD.     [Act  IV. 80.5. 

476.  Sec  on  iv.  2.  15.     Richard  has  A  thorough  distrust  of  Stanley( 

and  is  endeavouring  throughout  to  browbeat  him  into  an  admission 
of  disloyalty. 

477.  the  Welshman.     Sec  on  i.  3.  20. 

492.  you.  Abbott  points  out  (Shak.  6V.,  g  232)  that  the  change 
from  "thou"  to  "you'  is  here  significant  of  a  tone  of  sharp  reproof. 

498.   assurance,  security. 

501.   advertised,  advised,  informed. 

504.  moe.     See  Glossary. 

506.  competitors,  |>ersons  seeking  the  same  end.  The  word  is 
used  here  without  any  notion  of  rivalry. 

509.  owls.  The  cry  of  the  owl  was  regarded  as  a  jjortent  of 
death.  Editors  (|uote  Maibtth,  ii.  2.  3 — 

"  It  was  the  owl  that  shriek'd,  the  fatal  bellman, 
Which  gives  the  stern's!  good-night". 

512.   fall  of  waters,  rainfall. 

515.  I  cry  thee  mercy.     Cf.  ii.  2.  104. 

523.   Breton.     See  on  iv.  i.  43. 

528.  Upon  his  party.     Cf.  i.  3.  138. 

mistrusting  them.  According  to  the  Chronicle  this  distrust 
was  well  founded.  The  story  told  by  "  those  on  the  banks"  was  a 
mere  stratagem. 

529.  Hoised.     See  on  iii.  7.  127. 

533.  Buckingham's  abortive  rising  took  place  in  1483,  Rich- 
mond's successful  landing  in  1485.  Shakespeare  for  obvious  reasons 
brings  the  two  close  together.  Cf.  Introduction,  p.  12. 

537.  reason.     Cf.  i.  4.  165. 

538.  A  royal  battle :  i.e.  one  that  will  decide  who  is  to  be  king. 

539.  take  order.     Cf.  i.  4.  288. 

Scene  5. 

The  character  of  Stanley  (Derby)  is  worth  some  study.  Holinshed 
calls  him  a  "  wilie  fox  ",  And  the  part  he  played  was  certainly  one 
that  called  for  great  caution  and  self-restraint.  All  his  sympathies 
were  with  Richmond,  whose  step-father  he  was.  and  yet  he  lived  in 
the  midst  of  his  enemies  without  once  giving  Richard  a  plausible 
excuse  for  laying  hands  on  him. 

i.  Sir  Christopher:  a  clerical  title  here.  Cf.  iii.  2.  in.  In 
this  case  it  is  applied  erroneously,  as  I'rswick  was  more  than  a 
Bachelor  of  Arts.  The  detail,  however,  is  of  no  importance. 


V.  Scene  i.] 


NOTES. 


171 


3.  frank'd.     Cf.  i.  3.  314. 

5.  present,  immediate.     For  the  adverb  see  i.  2.  213. 

IO.   See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  1 79,  1.  1 7. 

15.  withal.     See  Glossary. 

17  ff.   See  on  iv.  4.  426  ff. 


Act  V.— Scene  I. 

Buckingham's  execution,  which  is  here  represented  as  taking  place 

^mediately  before  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field,  was  really  carried 

aut  in  1483.     (Cf.  note  on  iv.  4.  533.)     In  making  Salisbury  the 

cene  of  his  death,  Shakespeare  is  following  Hall ;  Holinshed  says 

1e  was  beheaded  at  Shrewsbury. 

5.     See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  1 79,  1.  4. 

12.     For  the  word-play  see  on  i.  2.  15. 

19.  the  determined  respite  of  my  wrongs:  i.e.  the  appointed 

tie  to  which  the  punishment  of  his  wrong-doing  has  been  deferred. 

21.  my  feigned  prayer.     See  ii.  I.  32. 

25.  See  on  i.  3.  197. 

29.  Wrong  hath  but  wrong:  i.e.  'the  wrong  I  have  done  has 

Dught  upon  me  the  wrong  I  now  suffer'.  It  is  like  the  Greek 
1  Spdffavri  iraOeiv'. 

Scene  2. 

The  advent  of  Richmond,  the  'minister  of  chastisement',  is  a  sign 
hat  the  play  has  entered  on  its  final  stage.    So  strongly  did  Johnson 
el  this  to  be  the  transition  point  that  he  proposed  to  begin  the  Act 
here,  tacking  the  preceding  scene  on  to  the  end  of  Act  iv. 

3.   the  bowels  of  the  land.     We  say  '  the  heart  of  the  country'. 
5.  our  father  Stanley.     See  on  i.  3.  20. 
7.  boar.     Cf.  iii.  2.  n. 

9.  wash,  refuse  gathered  from  washing  of  various  vessels,  and 
"  as  food  for  hogs. 

10.  swine :  singular  here.     See  Glossary. 
14.   cheerly  — cheerily. 

17.   r.  thousand  swords.     See  on  v.  3.  193. 

Scene  3. 

This  scene  illustrates  the  simplicity  of  stage  arrangements  in  Shake- 
re's  time.  The  headquarters  of  the  two  armies  are  represented 
lying  close  together.  The  leaders  on  either  side  enter  alternately, 


172  KIMi    RICHARD   TI1K   THIRD.  [Act  V. 

and  discuss  their  plans  on  precisely  the  saint-  sjx>t,  while  from  1.  79 
to  I.  1 10  Richard  is  visible  to  the  audience  as  he  lies  asleep  in  his 
tent  within  a  few  feet  of  where  Richmond  and  Derliyare  conversing. 
Again,  in  the  |>a.ssage  where  the  gh<jsls  appear,  the  couches  of  the 
rival  generals  are  lx>th  in  full  view  at  one  and  the  same  time.  The 
people  for  whose  entertainment  the  play  was  written,  were  quite 
content  to  accept  this  naive  method  of  representation,  which  is  after 
all  an  advance  on  the  old  Moralities,  where  the  scenery  made  much 
greater  demands  on  the  imagination.  Modern  audiences  are  more 
exacting,  and  from  Gibber's  time  onwards  stage-managers  have 
lacked  the  courage  to  present  the  scene  as  it  was  written.  Various 
changes  are  made,  the  boldest  l>eing  the  entire  omission  of  Rich- 
mond's dream.  That  Shakespeare  was  quite  sensible  of  his  limita- 
tions, and  of  the  only  way  to  overcome  them,  is  clear  from  the 
Prologue  to  ffi'nry  I'.,  Act  i.  It  is  sometimes  forgotten  that 
precisely  similar  limitations  still  exist.  Stage  scenery  must  always 
be  accepted  for  something  that  it  really  is  not. 

5.  ha!     See  on  i.  3.  234. 

ii.   battalion,  host.     Cf.  Hamlet,  iv.  5.  79. 
trebles  that  account,  amounts  to  three  times  that  numl>er. 

13.   upon  the  adverse  party.     Cf.  i.  3.  138. 

15.  the  vantage:  i.e.  the  conditions  likely  to  further  success. 

16.  sound  direction,  approved  skill  in  arranging.     "  Direction" 
is  used  in  the  sense  of  '  tactical  arrangement'  in  1.  235,  and  again  in 
1.  302.     The  verb  occurs  in  a  similar  connection  in  1.  298. 

17.  discipline.     Cf.  iii.  7.  16. 
25.   Limit,  appoint,  assign. 
29.   keeps,  remains  beside. 

38.   mighty  power.     Cf.  iv.  3.  48. 

49.  See  Appendix  on  Prosinfy,  p.  182,  1.  IO. 

50.  beaver,  the  front  part  of  the  helmet,  here  put  for  the  whole. 
See  Glossary. 

59.   pursuivant,  messenger.     Cf.  iii.  2.  97. 

f2.  blind.  ol»cure,  dark.  Cf.  iii.  7.  129.  A  precisely  similar 
transference  of  meaning  takes  place  in  the  case  of  Lat.  caecus  and 
Gr.  Tii0\6s. 

63.  watch:  usually  explained  as  a  'watch-light'  or  candle,  tht 
burning  of  which  would  indicate  how  time  was  (xissing. 

65.  staves,  handles  of  lances.  It  was  usual  for  knights  to  carry 
two  or  three  spare  lances  into  the  field. 

68.  melancholy,  gloomy.  Malone  says  Richard  called  North- 
umberland nielanJuny,  "because  he  did  not  join  heartily  in  his 
cause".  Richard  was  certainly  suspicious  of  his  loyalty  (1.  271) — 
and  with  reason  ;  for  Northumberland  held  aloof  front  the  battle,  and 
was  rewarded  by  Richmond  after  his  victory. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  173 

70.   cock-shut  time,  twilight.     See  Glossary. 

75.   it :  i.e.  the  bowl  of  wine,  which  Ratcliff  brings  in. 

81.   father-in-law:  i.e.  stepfather.      The  expression  is  still  in 
imon  use  in  this  sense.     (Cf.  Sam  Welter's  "mother-in-law".) 
83.   attorney.     Cf.  iv.  4.  127. 
86.   flaky,  because  now  streaked  with  light. 
88.   battle,  army.     Cf.  1.  292  and  1.  299. 

90.  mortal-staring:  i.e.  'having  a  deadly  stare,  grim-looking' 
"chmidt). 

92.  With  best  advantage,  to  the  best  of  my  opportunity.     Cf. 
5-  74- 

deceive  the  time,  play  with  the  time,  temporize.   Cf.  Macbeth, 
7.81- 

"Away,  and  mock  the  time  with  fairest  show". 

95.  being  seen.     See  on  i.  3.  162. 

tender  George.     Stanley's  son  was  at  this  time  a  married  man. 
representing  him  as  a  boy,  Shakespeare  follows  his  authorities. 

97.  leisure,  the  time  at  our  disposal.     Cf.  I.  238. 
105.  peise.     See  Glossary. 

no.  bruising  irons.  He  is  thinking  of  the  heavy  maces  used 
i  battle. 

112.  usurping  helmets.  The  epithet  is  transferred  from  the 
rearers. 

115.  watchful,  wakeful. 

116.  windows:    a   common   metaphor  with    Shakespeare,    e.g. 
Borneo  and  Juliet,  iv.  i.  100 — 

"The  roses  in  thy  lips  and  cheeks  shall  fade 
To  paley  ashes,  thy  eyes'  windows  fall ". 

The  ghosts  of  Richard's  victims  appear  in  the  precise  order  in 
which  they  met  their  deaths.  Holinshed's  account  of  the  dream  is 
very  brief.  "  It  seemed  to  him  being  asleepe,  that  he  did  see 
diverse  images  like  terrible  divels,  which  pulled  and  haled  him,  not 
suffering  him  to  take  anie  quiet  or  rest." 

124.  mortal.     Cf.  iv.  4.  26. 

125.  punched,  pierced. 

129.  prophesied.     Cf.  iv.  2.  99. 

132.  wash'd  to  death  with  fulsome  wine,  drowned  with  an 
cess  of  wine.  Malone  explains  fulsome  as  'unctuous',  and 

timidt  as  '  nauseous'.  Neither  explanation  seems  quite  adequate, 
lie  word  meant  originally  'full'.  (Cf.  "fulsome  ewes",  Merchant 
f  Venice,  i.  3.  87.)  The  signification  of  'nauseous',  which  the 

rd  now  has,  must  have  come  through  an  intermediate  sense  of 


174  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  [Act  V. 

'overmuch'  ('  too  full'),  'cloying  with  excess',  and  this  intermediate 
sense  best  suits  the  context  here.  Cf.  what  the  Second  Murderer 
says  (i.  4.  168):  "You  shall  have  wine  enough,  my  lord,  anon". 
In  Ixith  passages  there  is  something  of  the  same  sort  of  irony  as  in 
Hamlet,  iv.  7.  186:  "  Too  much  of  water  hast  thou,  poor  Ophelia". 

135.   fall  -  let  fall.     See  on  iv.  2.  66. 

156.   annoy.     See  Glossary. 

148.   See  Appendix  on  Prosody,  p.  182,  1.  29. 

173.  for  hope.  According  to  Shakesiiearian  idiom  this  might 
mean  (as  Mr.  Wright  and  others  say  it  does)  'for  want  of  hope', 
i.e.  'from  despair'.  But  this  does  not  appear  to  accord  with  facts: 
Buckingham  was  executed  for  high  treason.  The  sense  of  the  pas- 
sage seems  rather  to  be:  'I  was  put  to  death  on  account  of  the  hope 
I  entertained  of  lending  thee  aid,— a  hope  I  was  not  suffered  to 
realize;  but  do  not  let  this  precedent  dismay  thee:  God  and  good 
angels  are  on  thy  side '. 

177.  Richard  is  dreaming  of  "  bloody  deeds  and  death  ". 

180.  The  reference  is  to  the  superstition — alluded  to  also  in 
fiilius  Cttsar,  iv.  3.  275 — that  the  presence  of  a  ^host  caused  lights 
to  burn  blue. 

193.  Cf.  Conscientia  ntilU  testa,  prolably  referred  to  also  in 
v.  2.  17. 

several.     Cf.  iii.  2.  78. 

198.   used,  habitually  practised. 

219.   in  proof,  in  armour  that  has  l>een  proved  or  tested. 

221,  222.  This  is  a  stage  device  to  make  rc*>m  for  Richmond's 
soldiers. 

224.   Cry  mercy.     See  on  ii.  2.   104.      For  the  omission  of  the 
personal  pronoun  cf.  such  phrases  as  '  Pray,  tell  me '. 
231.  cried  on,  called  out. 
236.  direction.     Cf.  1.  16. 
238.  leisure.     Cf.  1.  97. 

enforcement,  constraint.     Cf.  iii.  7.  233. 

243.  except  may  l>e  either  a  past  participle  or  a  pre|iosition. 
The  sentence  will  not  liear  too  close  logical  analysis.  For  "  Richard 
except"  is  not  consistent  with  "him  they  follow".  A  good  parallel 
will  l>e  found  in  Paradise  Lost,  ii.  678 — 

"  God  and  His  Son  except, 
Created  thing  naught  valued  he  nor  shunned  ". 

248.  made  means,  contrived  a  way — with  a  suggestion  of  un- 
fairness. 

250.  foil,  the  leaf  (\ja\.  folium)  of  gold  in  which  a  jewel  was  set, 

251.  set  has  thus  a  double  sense. 


Jcene  3.]  NOTES.  175 

254.   ward  —  '  guard  ' — another  form  of  the  same  word. 
258.  fat,  richness. 

262.  quit  —  '  requite':  subjunctive  mood  expressing  a  wish.     See 
Jlossary. 

age  :  i.e.  old  age.     Cf.  iv.  4.  394. 

263.  all  these  rights:  i.e.  country,  wives,  children. 

264.  Advance.     Cf.  i.  2.  40. 

265.  ransom:  i.e.  the  price  to  be  paid  in  the  event  of  failure. 
268.  thereof.     The  first  part  of  this  word  is  redundant,  as  of  is 
juired  to  govern  "gain". 

271  ff.  When  Richard  and  Ratcliff  return,  they  are  discussing  a 
emark  they  had  overheard  during  their  eaves-dropping  (cf.  1.  221). 
"icy  had  been  listening  to  the  conversation  of  Northumberland, 
vhose  loyalty  was  suspected  (see  on  1.  68).     For  it  is  with  Richard 
i  with  Macbeth — 

"Those  he  commands  move  only  in  command, 
Nothing  in  love"  (Macbeth,  v.  2.  19). 

276.   Tell.     Cf.  i.  iv.  22. 

278.  by  the  book,  according  to  the  calendar. 

279.  braved:  i.e.  made  brave  (glorious).     For  this  sense  of  the 
djective  cf.  the  Scots  word  '  braw '. 

284.  from.     Cf.  iii.  v.  32. 
293.  foreward,  vanguard. 

298.  directed.     See  on  1.  16. 

299.  battle.     Cf.  1.  88  and  1.  292. 
puissance,  force. 

301.  This:  i.e.  '  Such  is  my  plan '. 
to  boot.     See  Glossary. 

302.  direction.     Cf.  1.  298. 

308.   Contrast  Richard's  words  now  with  11.  179-206. 
314.   Richard's  'oration  to  his  army'  is  full  of  dash  and  spirit, 
tiere  is  a  ring  about  it  that  we  miss  in  Richmond's.    Both  are  taken 
ubstantially  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle. 
inferr'd.     Cf.  iii.  5.  75. 

316.  sort,  set.     See  Glossary. 

runaways.      The  word  does  not  mean  here  '  one  who  runs 
iway ',  but  '  one  who  runs  in  the  ways ',  i.e.  '  a  vagabond  '. 

317.  Bretons.     See  on  iv.  i.  43. 

322.  restrain,  '  lay  restrictions  on  the  possession  of  (Malone). 

324.  our  mother's  cost.  It  was  Richard's  brother-in-law,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  supported  Richmond  in  exile.  Hall  in  his 
version  of  Richard's  speech  has  "by  my  brother's  meanes,  and 


176  KIN(;    RICHARD   THK   THIRD.     [Act  V.  Sc.  4. 

mine".  In  the  second  edition  of  Holinshcd  we  find,  by  a  printer's 
error,  "  l>y  my  mother's  meanes,  and  mine".  This  makes  it  clear 
how  Shakes|>eare  was  misled.  Cf.  Introduction,  p.  II. 

328.  rags.     Cf.  i.  3.  233. 

330.   fond.     Cf.  iii.  2.  26. 

334.   bobb'd,  drubbed.     See  Glossary. 

341.  welkin,  sky.  See  Glossary.  For  the  metaphor  cL  A'inj 
Henry  V'.,  Prologue  to  Act  i.  1.  13— 

"  the  very  casques 

That  did  affright  the  air  at  Agincourt ". 
staves.     See  on  v.  3.  65. 

343.   deny,  refuse. 

345.  past  the  marsh.  Richmond  manoeuvred  so  as  to  keep  his 
right  flank  covered  by  a  marsh  while  he  was  advancing.  As  soon  as 
he  had  got  past  it,  Richard  attacked  him. 

348.  Advance.     Cf.  i.  2.  40. 

350.   the  spleen,  regarded  as  the  seat  of  anger. 

Scene  4. 

Richard  is  a  greater  monster  ol  cruelty  than  Macl>eth,  but  he  goes 
to  his  death  in  a  much  more  courageous  spirit.  He  trusts  in  his  own 
good  sword,  and  not  in  the  promises  of  "juggling  fiends".  Read 
Macbeth,  v.  8.  The  later  picture  shows  a  far  deeper  knowledge  of 
human  nature  than  the  earlier  one. 

3.   Daring  an  opposite,  defying  an  opponent.      See  on  ii.  2.  94. 

7.  Mr.  Wright  points  out  that  in  the  old  play  of  The  True  7'ra- 
ffeafif  of  Richard  the  Third  (published  in  1594),  almost  the  only  line 
having  anything  in  common  with  Shakespeare  is  Richard's  exclama- 
tion, "A  horse,  a  horse,  a  fresh  horse". 

Scene  5. 

Unlike  Macbeth,  Richard  is  killed  upon  the  stage. 

With  Richmond's  concluding  speech  cf.  Introduction,  p.  10. 

3.  acquit.     See  on  i.  4.  192. 

4.  royalty  =  emblem  of  royalty,  i.e.  crown. 
18.   ta'en  the  sacrament:  i.e.  sworn. 

21.   That... have.     Cf.  i.  3.  219. 

35.  Abate,  beat  down,  blunt. 

36.  reduce.     Cf.  ii.  2.  68. 


APPENDIX 

ON 

THE   PROSODY   OF   RICHARD   III. 


L.V/.  Did'st  them  hear  these  verses? 

.  O,  yes,  I  heard  them  all,  and  more  too ;  for  some  of  them  had  in  them 

i         more  feet  than  the  verses  would  bear. 
CW.  That's  no  matter:  the  feet  might  bear  the  verses." 

As  You  Like  It,  iii.  2.  172. 

If  language  is  to  be  rhythmical,  it  must  have  a  certain  regularity 
of  movement.  In  Latin  and  Greek  verse,  this  regularity  of  move- 
ment is  indicated  to  the  ear  by  quantity ;  in  English,  as  in  French 
and  German,  it  is  indicated  to  the  ear  by  accent  -  that  is,  by  the  com- 
parative emphasis  which  we  naturally  put  upon  certain  syllables  when 
we  pronounce  a  consecutive  series  of  words  intelligibly.  This  does 
not,  of  course,  mean  that  we  should  read  verse  precisely  as  we  read 
prose.  But  it  does  mean  that  when  a  good  line  is  read  properly,  its 
metrical  effect  should  be  apparent  to  the  ear  without  any  departure 
from  the  ordinary  rules  of  pronunciation. 

'  If  we  attempt  to  analyse  that  metrical  effect  more  particularly,  we 
rind  that  it  depends  mainly  upon  three  things: — 

i.  The  Number  and  Grouping  of  the  Syllables.  The 
syllables  falls  into  sets  of  two  or  three,  each  set  forming  what  is  called 
z,  foot  (dissyllabic  or  trisyllabic).  The  feet  are  in  their  turn  grouped 
into  lines. 

«2.  The  Character  of  the  Feet.     It  has  been  already  said  that 
English  verse  the  regularity  of  movement  is  indicated  to  the  ear 
the  verbal  accent,  or,  as  it  may  be  more  correctly  called,  the  void 
stress.     It  follows  that  the  rhythmical  character  of  any  particular  foot 
is  determined  by  the  position  and  number  of  the  stressed  syllables  it 
feay  contain. 

3.  The  Distribution  of  the  Pauses.  It  is  impossible  to  read  a 
piece  of  verse  intelligently  without  making  a  certain  number  of  longer 
or  shorter  pauses.  These  pauses  ought  to  correspond  to  a  natural 
break  either  in  the  metre  or  in  the  sense.  They  are  thus  within  the 
poet's  control,  and  their  due  arrangement  is  almost  as  essential  an 
element  of  his  art  as  is  the  proper  management  of  the  individual  feet 
and  lines. 

(M  233)  -M 


178  KIN(;    RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 

Turning  now  to  the  line — 

"  My  manly  eyes  did  scorn  an  humble  tear", 

we  find  (I)  that  there  are  in  it  ten  syllables,  forming  rive  dissyllabic 
feet ;  (2)  that  in  each  foot  there  is  one  stressed  syllable,  that  syllable 
being  in  every  case  the  second  ;  (3)  thai  the  only  important  pause  is 
at  the  end  of  the  line.  To  indicate  the  scansion  to  the  eye  we  should 
print  as  follows : — 

"  My  m'an  1  ly  ey'es  |  did  sc'orn  !  an  hu'm  '  ble  te'ar". 

This  gives  us  the  simplest  and  most  regular  form  of  Shakespearian 
verse.  .Asa  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  bulk  of  Shakespeare's  lines 
are  not  framed  precisely  after  this  pattern.  If  they  were,  the  effect 
would  be  monotonous  in  the  extreme.  Rather  the  poet  has  taken  it 
as  the  groundwork  of  his  metre.  Sometimes  he  presents  it  to  us 
plain  and  unadorned.  More  frequently,  like  a  skilled  musician  im- 
provising on  a  melody,  he  introduces  some  of  the  numberless  variations 
it  is  capable  of  receiving,  without,  however,  allowing  us  for  a  moment 
to  forget  the  rhythmical  character  of  his  original  theme.  The  more 
obvious  of  these  variations  admit  of  being  classified.  In  discussing 
them  it  will  be  best  to  follow  the  order  alieady  laid  down,  and  to 
treat  of  them  so  far  as  they  affect  (i)  the  number  and  grouping  of  the 
syllables,  (2)  the  character  of  the  feet,  (3)  the  distribution  of  the 
pauses. 

Three  preliminary  observations,  however,  ought  to  be  made: — (l) 
The  pronunciation  of  English  has  altered  somewhat  since  Shake- 
speare's time.  Consequently  the  accent  or  stress  occasionally  falls 
outside  of  what  seems  to  us  its  natural  place.  In  the  text  of  this 
edition  such  differences  have  been  indicated  by  a  mark  over  the 
accented  syllable.  (2)  The  manner  in  which  Shakespeare's  plays 
were  published,  makes  it  impossible  for  us  to  l>e  certain  that  we 
always  have  the  words  as  he  wrote  them.  But  it  seemed  better  for 
our  purpose  to  regard  the  text  as  fixed  and  to  refrain  from  suggesting 
changes,  even  where  an  obvious  emendation  would  simplify  the 
metre.  (3)  Many  lines  are  capable  of  l>eing  read  rhythmically  in 
more  ways  than  one.  It  follows  that  in  not  a  few  of  the  cases  now 
to  be  discussed  the  line  avlmits  of  a  different  scansion  from  that  here 
given. 

VARIATION  IN  THE  NUMBER  OF  SYLLABLES. 

i.   Unbroken  Lines  of  Five  Feet. 

Such  lines  may  deviate  from  the  normal  type  either  through  defect 
or  through  excess;  in  other  words,  they  may  appear  to  have  eithei 
two  few  syllables  or  too  many.  With  regard  to  cases  of  defect^ 
observe : — 

(i)  In  by  far  the  larger  numl>er  of  instances  the  deficiency  is  onl> 
apparent,  and  may  be  made  to  disappear  either  by  pronouncing  as  a 
dissyllable  some  word  that  is  usually  a  monosyllable,  or  by  making 


APPENDIX.  179 

i  extra  syllable  out  of  some  sound  that  does  not  now  usually  have 
pllabic  value  at  all.     Examples  abound,  as — 

"Who  in  |  tercepts  |  my  ex  |  pedit  |  i-ont"  (iv.  4.  136). 
"Vaugh-an,  \  and  all  |  that  have  |  miscarr  |  i-id"  (v.  i.  5). 

Mote  by  the  way  that  '  Vaughan '  is  always  a  dissyllable  in  Richard 
III.  (i.  3.  333;  ii.  4.  43;  iii.  2.  67;  3.  24;  iv.  4.  69,  147;  v.  3.  142), 
and  with  'miscarried'  compare  'buried'  in  ii.  i.  90.  As  a  rule,  the 
ear  is  for  practical  purposes  an  adequate  guide,  readily  indicating  for 
instance  that  'hour'  is  dissyllabic  (  =  'hou-^r')  in  iv.  4.  506,  and 

eandom '  trisyllabic  (  — '  ear-wl-dom ')  in  iv.  2.  106.  Proper  names, 
however,  require  special  care,  for  in  dealing  with  these  Shakespeare 
uses  great  freedom,  and  indeed  seems  sometimes  to  disregard  met- 
rical considerations  altogether.  Thus  'Catesby',  which  has  usually 
only  two  syllables,  must  be  scanned  with  three  ( —  'Cat-es-by')  in  iii. 
I.  157;  2.  76;  7.  58.  Again,  '  Henry  '  is  trisyllabic  (  — 'Hen-^-ry') 
in  ii.  3.  16  and  iv.  2.  98;  while  similar  treatment  must  be  applied  to 
'Stanley'  in  iii.  2.  3  and  iv.  5.  10,  to  'England'  in  iv.  4.  263,  and 
even  to  'VYoodville'  (  = ' VVoodv-ville')  in  i.  1.67.  '  Hereford',  on 
the  other  hand,  has  only  two  syllables  (iii.  I.  195;  iv.  2.  93). l 

(2)  Very  occasionally  the  place  of  a  syllable  is  taken  by  a  brief 
pause,  as — 

"  And  help  |  to  arm  |  me.       |  Leave  me,  |  I  say"  (v.  3.  78). 

"  But,  tell  1  me,  |  is  young  |  George  Stan  |  ley  liv  |  ing?"  (v.  5.  9). 

The  extra  syllable  at  the  end  of  the  latter  of  these  two  lines  will  be 
spoken  of  presently.  Meanwhile,  for  the  pause  cf.  v.  3.  75,  148. 

(3)  Closely  allied  to  (2)  are  those  rare  cases  where  the  voice  dwells 
so  long  or  so  strongly  on  the  stressed  syllable  that  the  ear  is  content 
to  dispense  with  the  unstressed  one  that  ought  to  accompany  it,  as — 

"  Self  a  |  gainst  self:  |  O,  \  prepost  |  erous"  (ii.  4.  63). 

"  Long  |  live  Rich  |  ard,  Eng  |  land's  roy  |  al  king ! "  (iii.  7.  240). 

'erhaps  in  iv.  4.  467  the  sarcastic  emphasis  laid  on  the  word  'guess', 
vhich  Richard  catches  up  from  Stanley  and  twice  repeats,  gives  it 
lie  full  force  of  a  foot : — 

"  Well,  sir,  |  as  you  |  guess,  \  as  you  j  guess?" 

is,  however,  better  to  regard  this  as  an  incomplete  line. 
Cases  of  excess  in  the  number  of  syllables  are  at  once  more  cotn- 
aon  and  more  complex  than  cases  of  defect.     The  following  classifi- 
cation will  be  helpful : — 

(i)  When  the  superfluous  syllables  fall  within  the  feet  they  may 
juently  be  elided  or  slurred  over.     In  many  cases  the  ear  at  once 

1  To  have  entered  upon  any  discussion  of  the  phonetic  aspects  of  syllabic  varia- 
tion would  have  been  inconsistent  with  the  plan  of  this  Appendix,  which — it  may 
be  said — was  originally  suggested  by  Mayor's  Chapters  on  English  Metre.  Stu- 
dents are  referred  to  Professor  Herford's  valuable  Appendix  to  the  Warwick 
Edition  of  Richard  II.  Those  who  read  German  will  find  Konig's  Der  Vers  in 
Shaksptre's  Dratnen  (Strassburg,  1888)  a  most  thorough  and  careful  piece  of  work. 


l8o  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

suggests  a  solution  of  the  difficulty.  Thus,  to  <|uo(e  Init  a  single 
example,  'conference'  lias  three  syllables  in  i.  I.  86,  hut  readily 
becomes  a  dissyllable  in  i.  I.  104.  Nor  will  there  l>e  any  hesitation 
nl-out  treating  as  single  syllables  such  phrases  as  '1  had  ',  '\\hat  is', 
'you  will',  'he  is',  'I  am',  and  the  like,  even  where  the  sj>elling 
gives  no  indication  that  elision  is  required,  a>  in  i.  j.  to-;  4.  187, 
<S:c.  Ac.  Sometimes  it  is  a  consonant  that  disapj-«r.s.  We  are 
familiar  with  this  in  words  like  'et-en',  'ertr',  'nerer'  (i.  2.  127; 
iii.  I.  79).  More  difficult  are  'deril',  'erils'  (i.  2.  50,  76),  and 
'eiMer',  'whe/^er',  '  whiMer'  (i.  2.  64;  iii.  7.  229;  iv.  i.  7;  2.  I2O; 
v.  5.  II).  In  iv.  4.  183  there  seems  to  be  a  choice;  but  the  context 
shows  that  we  must  scan — 

"  Either  thou  .  wilt  die.  |  by  God's  |  just  ord  ,  iuante  ". 

The  exclamation  'marry 'calls  for  remark.  That  'marry  as'  (i.  3. 
313)  should  form  a  single  foot  is  natural  enough.  C'f.  'many  a' 
(iv.  4.  408),  'humbly  on'  (ii.  2.  105),  &c.  But  it  is  strange  to  rind 
in  iii.  7.  81, 

"  Marry,  God  j  forbid  |  his  grace  |  should  say     us  nay  ". 

Here,  as  in  ii.  3.  46  and  iii.  4.  58,  'Marry'  has  but  the  value  of  a 
single  syllable,  although  the  word  which  follows  it  begins  with  a 
consonant. 

(2)  Whatever  be  the  correct  phonetic  account  of  the  matter,  the 
process  of  slurring  is  often  far  from  agreeable  to  the  modern  ear. 
In  the  cases  covered  by  the  preceding  section  it  is  always  a  possible 
and  sometimes  a  preferable  way  of  putting  it  to  say  that  th*  super- 
fluous syllables  should  l>e  pronounced,  but  pronounced  rapidly,  the 
result  being  a  trisyllabic  foot.1  In  reading  aloud  this  is  certainly  the 
principle  to  be  followed.  Feet  of  three  syllables  abound  in  the  blank 
verse  of  Hrowning  and  Swinburne.  In  Scott's  RosabelU  the  normal 
metre  is  a  line  of  four  dissyllabic  feet,  but  in  the  following  verse 
all  the  lines  save  one  deviate  from  the  type  :  — 

"  There  are  twen  i  ty  of  Ros  |  lin's  bar    cms  bold 

Lie  bur  |  led  wittiin     that  fair  i  chapelle  ; 
Each  one  |  the  ho  j  ly  vault  |  doth  hold. 
But  the  sea  .  holds  love     ly  Ros     abe.le  ". 

In  view,  then,  of  the  freedom  accorded  to  modern  poets,  it  is  hard 
to  see  why  we  should  refuse  to  allow  Shakrspeare  a  similar  license. 
The  following  examples  from  Richard  111.  seem  clear: — 

"  Hat-ing Coii.  \  her  con  I  science,  and  i  these  bars     against     me"   i.  3.  235). 
"  As  one  i  that  are  best  \  acquain  ,  ted  with  |  her  hum  1  our  "    iv.  4.  269;. 
"  Madam.  \  we  did:     ht  itesiret  \  to  make     atone  |  ment"   i.  3.  j6\ 
"  In  God's     name  what  |  arc  you,  <  and  kenv  came  I  you  hith  |  er?"  ;i.  4.  83). 
"The  cit  1  izcns  |  are  mum  ,  and  speak  ]  not  a  ward"   iii.  7.  3,. 

Cf.  ii.  I.  39;  iii.  7.  21  ;  v.  3.  239,  &c. 

1  It  is  a  suggestive  fact  that,  while  'superfluous'  syllables  of  this  sort  abound 
in  the  dramas  where  rapid  pronunciation  is  often  natural  ,  they  hardly  ever  < 
in  the  Sontttti  at  all. 


APPENDIX.  181 

(3)  So  far  we  have  been  speaking  of  superfluous  syllables  that  fall 
within  the  feet.    More  remarkable  is  t  lie  occurrence  of  such  syllables 
apparently  outside  of  the  metrical  system  proper.     The  commonest 
case  of  the  kind  is  when  the  fifth  foot  is  followed   by  an  unstressed 
or  lightly  stressed  syllable,  forming  what  is  called  a  'double'  or 
'feminine'  ending  to  the  line.      The   first  four  of  the   lines  just 
quoted  will  furnish  examples,  and  others  may  be  found  011  any  page 
of  the  text.     This  was  a  variation  of  which  Shakespeare  giew  in- 
creasingly fond  as  his  powers  matured  ;  and  it  provides  one  of  the 
•metrical   tests'   which  scholars   have   applied   to   assist   them   in 
determining  the  chronological  order  of  his  dramas.     The  rule  is  not 
absolute,   especially  as  regards   his  earlier  works;    but,  generally 
speaking,  the  presumption  is  that  the  greater  the  number  of  such 
endings  in  any  play,   the  later  its  date.1      In  Richard  III.  about 
670  lines,  or  I   in  every  5  or  6,  end  in  this  way.      Further,  the 
feminine  ending  may  consist  of  tivo  syllables,  as  — 

"To  fight  [  in  quarr  |  el  of  |  the  house  |  of  Lan  |  caster"  (i.  4.  209). 
"  I  was  ;  1  but  I  |  do  find  |  more  pain  |  in  ban  |  ishment"  (i.  3.  168). 

In  such  cases  the  line  concludes  either  with  a  proper  name  (ii.  2. 
123;  iv.  4.  508;  v.  3.  68),  or  with  a  word  the  last  two  syllables 
of  which,  taken  together,  can  be  pronounced  with  peculiar  light- 
ness, as  'maj«/j''  (i.  I.  16;  3.  I;  ii.  I.  75),  'lirvr/y'  (i.  3.  305;  iii. 
6.  9),  'gentfeman'  (iv.  2.  36;  v.  3.  245).  Cf.  iii.  I.  71,  198;  5. 

76;  7  9,  "3;  iv-  3-  53;  4-  '7°,  217. 

(4)  A  similar  extra-metrical  syllable  may  occur  after  (a)  the  second 
or  (/')  the  third  foot  of  a  line,  if  there  be  a  decided  break  or  pause  at 
that  point,  as  — 

(a]  "  My  lord,  ]  good  morr  |  ow;  \  good  morr  |  ow,  Cat  |  esby  "  (iii.  2.  76). 

[b]  "  Rivers,  |  that  died  I  at  Pom  \fret\  \  despair,  |  and  die  "  (v.  3   140]. 

The  following  may  be  scanned  on  this  principle,  though  in  several 
instances  a  trisyllabic  foot  would  dispose  of  the  difficulty  equallv 
well:  —  (<?)  i.  4.  165;  iii.  3.  17;  iv.  4.  485;  5.  10;  v.  3.  7,  289,  and 
(b)  i.  4.  202;  iv.  i.  34.  In  i.  I.  105  and  iii.  I.  37  there  are  two 
extra  syllables  inserted  in  this  way  in  the  line,  the  words  concerned 
being  '  Bracken^wrj/'  and  '  Buck///^//a/«  '.  There  is  nothing  to 
prevent  one  and  the  same  line  having  extra-metrical  syllables  in  both 
places  —  at  the  end  and  in  the  middle.  So  (ii.  4.  12)  — 

"More  than  1  my  broth  |  er:  \  'Ay',  quoth  |  my  unc  |  le  Glouce  |  ster", 

Tf.  iv.  i.  19. 

(5)  A  much  rarer  variation  is  the  insertion  of  an  extra-metrical 
pliable  at  the  beginning  of  a  line.     Thus  (iii.  7.  224)  — 


call  them  |  again.  |  I  am  f  not  made  |  of  stones  ". 
1  See  Dowden's  Shakespeare  Primer,  pp.  39—46. 


182  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Here  the  sense  of  the  line  suggests  that  "Well"  sliouM  l>e  taken  by 
liself  rather  than  that  one  of  the  feet  should  he  trisyllabic.  In  this 
and  the  other  cases  cited  below  the  extra  syllable  forms  a  separate 
word  that  might  be  omitted  without  serious  detriment  t<i  the  mean- 
ing. For  phrases  like  "Cry  mercy"  in  v.  3.  224,  show  that  "I" 
might  be  dispensed  with  in  i.  I.  103 — 

"  A  beseech  |  your  grace  1  to  par  |  don  me,  and  I  withal ". 
Cf.  i.  I.  49,  84,  95;  ii.  4.  26;  iii.  I.  191. 

2.  Incomplete  and  Broken  Lines. 

An  'incomplete'  line  is  one  that  contains  fewer  feet  than  hve; 
a  '  broken  ?  line  is  one  that  is  divided  l>etween  two  or  more  s|>eakers. 
These  lines  deserve  careful  attention,  for  many  of  them  fall  more 
readily  into  the  rhythmical  system  than  might  J>e  at  first  supposed. 
The  different  forms  they  assume  is  one  of  the  chief  means  of  lending 
variety  to  the  dialogue,  and  hence  they  are  more  numerous  in  the 
later  plays  than  in  the  earlier  ones.  The  more  thorough  Shake- 
speare's mastery  over  his  metre  became,  the  more  freedom  did  he 
use  in  handling  it.  Incomplete  lines  may  be  arranged  in  the  follow- 
ing classes: — 

(1)  Lines  which  consist  of  brief  exclamations,  such  as  "Tush" 
Ii.    3.    350),  "Right"  (i.  4.   248),  "Boy"  (iv.   2.  32),  and  so  on. 
Where  they  do  not  stand  by  themselves,  they  usually  occur  at  the 
beginning  or  end  of  a  speech;  occasionally,  however,  they  occur  in 
the  middle  (i.  2.  239;  4.  218). 

(2)  Lines  that  contain   short   questions,  answers,   commands,  or 
phrases  expressing  assent.      Instances  are  numerous,  some  standing 
t>y  themselves,  others  forming  part  of  a  longer  speech.      Sometimes 
they  begin  with  an  extra-metri'cal  syllable  (iii.    1.  90,    143;  3.  I ;  7. 

23)- 

(3)  Lines  which  are  completed  not  by  words,  but  by  a  significant 
pause,  or  by  some  action  performed  ii|x>n  the  stnge,  as  in  v.  3.  49. 
The  most  common  case  is  the  occurrence  of  such  a  line  before  an 
exit  or  an  entrance,  as  iii.  4.  60;   7.  70;  iv.  3.  35.     Usually  it  is 
the  end  of  the  line  that  is  left  incomplete.      But  the  break  may  b* 
in  the  middle.     Thus  in  iv.  4.  428 — 

"  I  go.  I |  Write  to  '  me  ve  '  ry  short     ly  ", 

we  may  suppose  that  Eli/abeth  l>egins  her  exit  after  the  first  foot, 
but  turns  back  to  give  expression  to  an  afterthought. 

Lines  that  are  apparently  incomplete  will  often  turn  out  to  be 
parts  of  broken  lilies.  Of  broken  lines,  two  main  varieties  may  l>e 
distinguished  — 

1 1)  The  parts  may,  when  united,  form  an  ordinary  line  ofyrrr  feet 
This  may  be  perfectly  simple  and  regular,  as  i.  I.  43,  or  it  may  be 
varied.  The  limits  of  variation  are  wider  than  in  the  unbroken  fivc> 


APPENDIX.  183 

line.     Thus  a  '  feminine  ending '  may  occur  not  merely  after 
he  second,  third,  or  fifth  foot,  but  at  any  point  in  the  line,  as — 

"What  says  |  het 

My  lord,  he  doth  entreat  your  grace  "  (iii.  7.  59). 
"  I  thank  I  your  grace.  | 

My  lord  |  of  E  |  ly\ 

I  My  lord?"  (iii.  4.  32). 

^gain,  in  a  broken  line  an  extra-metrical  syllable  is  admissible 
at  merely  at  the  beginning  of  the  whole  line  (i.  2.  226),  but  also  at 
tie  beginning  of  the  second  part  of  it,  as  in  iv.  2.  1 14 — 

"  Of  what  |  you  pro  |  mised  me.  I 

W 'ell,}  but  what's  o'clock?" 

v.  3.  214.     This  is  the  explanation  of  v.  3.  186,  which  is  really 
n  line,   as   Richard's   soliloquy  becomes   a   dialogue  with 
elf. 

"  Lest  I  |  revenge.  |  What,  }  myself  |  upon  |  myself?" 

jmetimes  an  interruption  is  disregarded,  as  in  v.  3.  281 — 
"  Ratcliff !  i 

[My  lord?} 

The  sun  |  will  not  [  be  seen  |  to-day  ". 

Occasionally  different  speakers  provide  alternative  endings  for  a 
ne,  as  if  both  spoke  together.     So  i.  3.  136,  137 — 

"Yea,  and  [  forswore  |  himself,  |  —which  Je  \  supar\  don  I 
Q.  MAR.  Which  God \  revenge'." 

Lastly,  sometimes  the  same  set  of  words  may  be  taken  either  as 
end  of  one  line  or  as  the  beginning  of  another,  forming  what  is 
led  a  '  common  section '.     Thus  in  ii.  4.  40 — 

"  How  fares  |  the  prince?  | 

Well,  ma  |  dam,  and  \  in  health. 
What  is  |  thy  news  j  then?" 


184  KINCi    RICHARD   TI1K   THIRD. 

In  iv.  ii.  45  the  interruption  is  not  verbal— 

"  And  stops  |  he  now  |  for  breath?  | 

[Enter  STANLEY.] 

"  How  now!  |  what  new-.  ,  uiih  you?" 

Kven  where  there  is  no  actual  interruption,  a  decided  internal 
sense-pause  may  give  rise  to  a  line  of  six  feet,  as  v.  3.  187 — 

"  Alack,  |  I  love  |  myself.  |  Wherefore?  ;  for  a  \  ny  good  ". 
Perhaps  v.  3.  72  and  209  may  Ix-  similarly  explained. 

3.   Unbroken  Lines  of  more  than  Five  Feet. 

In  Richard  III.  we  have  one  line  of  seven  feet  (i.  I.  94) ;  but  this 
is  altogether  exceptional,  and  may  be  due  to  a  corruption  of  the 
text,  or  possibly  it  is  a  quotation — it  reads  like  the  catch  of  a  song. 
(lenume  '  Alexandrines  ,  as  lines  of  six  feet  are  called,  are  also 
exceedingly  rare  (perhaps  ii.  I.  133;  iii.  I.  39),  although  apparent 
ones  are  fairly  common.  Some  of  the  latter  have  alieaciy  l>een 
dealt  with  in  discussing  broken  lines  and  dissyllabic  feminine  endings. 
The  remainder  may  be  accounted  for  in  one  or  other  of  two  ways. 

(1)  The  superfluity  of  syllables  may   be  due  to  a  corresponding 
deficiency  in  the  preceding  or  the  following  line,  the  ear  accepting 
the  one  as  compensation  for  the  other.     So  v.  iii.  208,  299 — 

"They  thus  |  direct  |  ed,  we  ]  will  foil  |  ow 

In  the  J  main  batt  ;  Ic,  whose  ,  pui*sancc  \  on  ciih  |  er  side  ", 

and  perhaps  v.  3.  52,  53- 

(2)  Apparent  Alexandrines  may  often  be  scanned  as  lines  of  five 
feet,  some  of  the  syllables    lending  themselves   naturally  to  rapid 
pronunciation.     Objection,  however,  was  early  taken  to  such  lines, 
as  is  clear  from  the  fact  that  in  the  Folio  text  (see  Introduction,  p. 
17)  an  attempt  is  usually  made  to  mend  the  metre.     The  following 
are  the  more  important  instances : — 

"  En,viron'd  \  me  about,  |  and  howl     ed  in  '  mine  ears"  (i.  4.  59). 

"  I  pro  I  mise  you,  I  am  !  afraid     to  hear  |  you  tell  |  it "  (L  4.  65). 

"  And  hugg'd  |  me  in  his  arm,  i  and  kind  ,  ly  kiss/d  |  my  cheek  "   ii.  2.  24). 

"  And  being  |  but  a  toy,  |  which  is  I  no  grief  |  to  give  "   iii.  i.  114). 

"Thou  art  swoni  |  as  deep  |  ly  to  effect  ,  what  we  |  intend"  (iii.  i.  158). 

Dr  Abbott  (S/tak.  Gr.,  §498)  scans  i.  4.  250  in  a  similar  way; 
but  perhaps  the  momentous  character  of  the  announcement  there 
made  justifies  an  Alexandrine. 

VARIATION  IN  THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  FEET. 

This  will  naturally  depend  upon  variation  in  the  stress,  and  for 
stress  variation  no  definite  rules  can  be  laid  down.  Its  principles  are 
part  of  the  secret  of  the  poet's  ait.  The  student  ought  to  select  one 
or  two  passages,  and  go  through  them  carefully,  noticing  for  himself 


APPENDIX.  185 

the  incidence  and  strength  of  the  stresses  in  each  line.  To  clo  this 
will  always  help  him  to  a  juster  appreciation  of  the  music  of  the  verse, 
and  will  often  throw  new  light  upon  the  meaning.  In  v.  iii.  130,  for 
instance, 

"  Doth  com  i  fort  thee  |  in  thy  |  sleep:  live,  \  and  flour  |  ish", 

the  emphasis  on  '  thee '  and  '  thy '  is  important  for  the  sense.  It 
may  be  useful  to  direct  attention  to  one  or  two  particular  points. 

(i)  The  stress  varies  in  position.  Instead  of  falling  on  the  second 
syllable  it  sometimes  falls  on  the  first,  giving  the  foot  a  'trochaic' 
rather  than  an  '  iambic '  rhythm.  Stress  inversion  of  this  sort  is  very 
frequent,  and  may  occur  more  than  once  in  the  same  line.  It  is 
commonest  in  the  first  foot,  and  is  more  common  in  the  third  and 
fourth  feet  than  in  the  second.  It  is  often  preceded  by  a  pause,  but 
there  is  no  necessary  connection  between  the  two.  In  the  following 
examples  no  pause  precedes: — 

"Shall  we  I  hear  from  \  you,  Ca'tes  |  by,  e're  |  we  sle'ep?"  (iii.  i.  188). 
"  A  co'ck  |  atr'ice  |  hast  th'ou  I  ha'tcKd  to  \  the  wo'rld  "  (iv.  i.  55). 

In  the  fifth  foot  the  stress  is  very  rarely  inverted.  And  for  an 
avious  reason.  On  the  metrical  character  of  the  last  foot  depends 
a  large  extent  the  impression  which  the  whole  line  leaves  upon  the 
r.  Here  then,  if  anywhere,  the  stress  ought  to  fall  in  its  natural 
sition.  So  unmetncal  does  an  inverted  stress  in  the  last  foot 
jpear  that  some  refuse  to  admit  its  occurrence.  The  following  are 
most  likely  instances  of  it  in  Richard  111. — 

"Well  str'uck  |  in  ye'ars,  I  fa'-ir,  |  and  n'ot  |  jealous"  (i.  i.  92). 
"I  pr'ay  1  you,  un'c  |  le,  gi've  I  me  th'is  |  da'gger"  (iii.  i.  no). 

5me,  however,  would  scan  the  first  of  these  lines  thus — 

"  Well  str'uck  |  in  ye'-  |  ars,  fa'  |  -ir,  a'nd  |  not  je'al  |  ous1 "; 
id  the  second  thus  (Abbott,  Shak.  Gr.,  §  478)— 

"  I  pra'y  |  you,  u'nc  |  le,  |  gi've  me  |  this  da'g  [  ge'r  ", 

vhere  the  second  syllable  of  'uncle'  is  analogous  to  the  feminine 
tiding,  and  the  last  syllable  of  '  dagger'  is  somehow  prolonged  so  as 
have  the  full  force  of  a  foot.     A  note  of  warning  is  required  about 
lines  ending  with  compound  words.    The  following  are  not  instances 
3f  inverted  stress  in  the  last  foot : — 

"A  knot  |  you  are  I  of  damn  |  ed  blood-  |  suckers"  (iii.  3.  6). 
"  Under  |  our  tents  |  I  '11  play  |  the  eaves  |  -dropper"  (v.  3.  221). 

\'hat  happens  is  that  the  stress  on  the  second  syllable  is  overwhelmed 
by  the  stronger  stress  on  the  one  that  precedes  it.  Cf.  i.  i.  48;  ii.  4. 
I,  and — 

"  The  shepherd  swains  shall  dance  and  sing 
For  thy  delight  each  May-morning". 

olio  prints  the  last  word  as  a  trisyllable — jealious.     How  would  this  be 
d? 


186  Kl.NV,    RICHARD   T1IK   THIRD. 

(2)  The  stresses  may  vary  in  strength.     There  is  almost  no  limit 
to  the  number  of  classes  into  which  they  might  be  divided.     For 
practical   purposes,    however,   two  suffice.     But   so  subtle  are  the 
gradations   that   it   is  not   possible  always  to  determine  whether  a 
particular  stress  is  '  strong'  (')  or  '  weak  '  (').     A  weak  stress  is  more 
common  in  the  last   foot   than   anywhere  else;  and   Shakespeare's 
increasing  fondness  for  ending   the   line  with   a   'weak'  or  'light* 
monosyllable  has  provided  another  of  the  metrical  tests  to  which 
allusion  has  already  l>een  made.      The  only  absolute  rule  by  which 
the  poet  is  guided  is  that  he  should  not  carry  variation  in  the  position 
and  strength  of  stresses  so  far  as  to  make  us  forget  the  normal  form 
ol  his  line. 

(3)  The  stresses  may  vary  in  number.    The  same  foot  may  contain 
two  stressed  syllables,  and  the  same  line  may  contain  more  than 
live.     (The  same  foot  cannot,  however,  contain  two  stresses  of  pre- 
cisely equal  strength.     The  beat  of  the  rhythm  must  be  distinctly 
perceptible,  if  the   line  is  to  be  metrical.)      I'erhaps  the  following 
represent  the  two  extremes: — 

"  Wo'c'i  sc'ene,  |  wo'rld's  slia'me,  \  gra'vc's  d'ue  |  by  li'fe     usurped  "  liv.  4    27). 
"An'd  fur  I  unfc'h  ,  im'ag  ,  in'at  |  i-'on"    i.  4.  So. 

In  iv.  4.  75  the  number  and  strength  of  the  stresses  is  such  that  the 
ear  is  satisfied  with  a  line  of  four  feet — 

"  Ea'rth  ga'pes,  \  he'll  bu'rns,  .  fic'uds  roar.  \  sa'inls  pr  ay  ". 

VARIATION  IN  THK  DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  PARSES. 

This  is  a  very  important  and  effective  form  of  variation.  But  it 
is  so  subtle  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  lay  down  general  principles. 
Here  again  the  student  should  use  his  own  powers  of  observation 
on  particular  passages.  All  sense  pauses  of  importance  are  indicated 
by  punctuation  marks.  Notice  carefully  how  the  position  of  these 
pauses  varies,  and  how  much  of  the  effect  depends  upon  their  dura- 
tion. The  one  metrical  pause  that  forces  itself  on  the  attention  is 
that  which  comes  at  the  end  of  the  line.  There  are  not  wanting 
indications  that  Shakespeare  was  influenced  sometimes  by  the  recol- 
lection of  the  'caesura',  or  regular  break  in  the  middle  of  the  line, 
which  was  characteristic  of  the  verse  from  which  his  metre  was 
developed.  The  most  striking  of  these  is  the  occurrence  of  a  syl- 
lai.le  analogous  to  the  feminine  ending  after  the  second  or  third  foot, 
— a  point  to  which  attention  was  drawn  in  the  proper  place  (p.  181). 
But  so  many  lines  contain  no  trace  of  this  caesura  that  we  cannot 
regard  it  as  a  normal  feature  of  the  Shakespearian  verse.  The  only 
point,  then,  at  which  we  have  any  right  to  look  for  the  coincidence 
of  an  important  sense  pause  with  an  important  metrical  pause  is  the 
end  of  the  line.  And  just  because  we  do  look  for  it  there,  its  non- 
occurrence  provides  an  effective  variation,  a  variation  which  admits 
of  different  degrees  of  intensity,  and  which,  as  we  might  expect,  is 
much  more  frequent  in  the  later  plays  than  in  the  earlier  (see  Dow- 


den 


APPENDIX.  187 


i's  Primer,  p.  39).  Closely  connected  with  this  is  Shakespeare's 
constantly-increasing  fondness  for  ending  his  speeches  with  a  broken 
line.  Konig  (op.  fit.,  p.  134)  shows  that,  while  the  percentage  of 
such  endings  in  Richard  III.  is  only  2~g,  it  rises  steadily  in  the 
.rious  plays  till  it  reaches  87 '6  in  The  Winters  Tale. 

RHYME. 

Another  and  an  altogether  different  kind  of  variation  remains  to 
!  noticed.  Rhyme  is  very  frequent  in  Shakespeare's  early  comedies, 
the  percentage  of  rhymed  lines  in  Love's  Labour 's  Last  being  62  '2. ' 
In  his  later  plays  it  occurs  more  and  more  rarely,  until  in  The  Win- 
{ter's  Tale  not  a  single  example  is  found.  These  represent  the  two 
extremes;  and  with  regard  to  what  lies  between,  it  is,  on  the  whole, 
true  to  say  that  his  fondness  for  rhyme  decreased  in  proportion  as  his 
skill  in  the  management  of  blank  verse  grew  greater.  At  the  same 
time  this  '  rhyme-test '  cannot  be  rigorously  applied  to  determine  the 
chronological  order  of  the  intermediate  plays,  inasmuch  as  certain 
.conditions  that  suggest  the  use  of  rhyme  may  quite  naturally  pre- 
vail in  one  play  rather  than  in  another.  To  take  an  obvious  instance, 
rhyme  seems  singularly  appropriate  to  anything  approaching  the 
lyric  mood,  and  accordingly  in  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  where 
•ive  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  fairyland,  the  percentage  of  rhymed 
lines  rises  as  high  as  43.  In  Richard  III.,  on  the  other  hand,  where 
Shakespeare  was,  as  we  have  seen,  writing  under  the  influence  of 
Marlowe,  the  earliest  master  of  blank  verse,  only  3-5  per  cent  of  the 
lines  are  rhymed.  In  the  great  majority  of  the  plays  the  percentage 
lies  between  I  and  10,  and  in  many  cases  it  is  possible  to  account 
definitely  for  the  appearance  of  the  rhymed  lines.  The  general  effect 
of  the  occasional  use  of  rhyme  in  blank  verse  is  to  draw  special  atten- 
tion to  the  passage  where  it  occurs.  Some  particular  applications  of 
this  principle  may  be  noted.  ( i )  Rhyme  often  marks  the  end  of  a 
scene,  as  in  i.  I.  162,  163:  2.  263,  264,  &c.  (2)  It  may  even  mark 
the  conclusion  of  a  speech,  particularly  where  an  important  exit 
follows,  as  in  iv.  4.  194-5;  v-  3-  '49-5°.  165-6,  &c.  In  iv.  I.  96,  97, 
and  iv.  4.  114,  115  it  indicates  a  'false  exit'.  (3)  Sometimes  it  is 
used  to  add  point  to  a  statement  or  emphasis  to  an  argument,  as  in 
i.  i.  55  ff. ;  iv.  4.  15-16,  20-21,  24-25.  (4)  Occasionally  it  indi- 
cates an  '  aside ',  as  iii.  I.  94. 

1  My  figures  are  taken  from  Kdnig  [op.  cit.,  p.  131). 


GLOSSARY. 


A,  the  indefinite  article,  is  a 
worn-down  form  of  the  A.-S.  dn  = 
'one'.  Occasionally  it  retains  its 
original  numerical  force,  particu- 
larly in  prepositional  phrases  (iv. 
2/5;  iv.  3.  12).  Cf.  "  Uoth  not 
rosemary  and  Romeo  both  begin 
with  a  letter?"  (ttomeo  and  Juliet, 
ii.  4.  320). 

abject  (i.  i.  1 06).  a  person  cast 
out  (Lat.  abjectum],  one  who  is 
despised  or  of  no  account.  The 
word  occurs  in  t'saims,  xxxv.  15. 

abroach  (i.  3.  325).  'To  set 
abroach '  is  'to  tap  a  barrel  of 
liquor  by  piercing  it'.  From  <z  = 
'  in  a  state  of,  and  broach,  which 
comes  from  Ixnv  I^at.  brocca,  '  a 
spike',  through  the  Fr.  broche. 
Another  form  of  the  latter  word  is 
brooch,  properly  'a  pin'. 

alarum  (i.  i.  7;  iv.  4.  148),  call 
to  arms.  From  the  Italian  'all' 
arme'  -  'alle  arme'  =  'to  arms'. 
Skeat  suggests  that  the  experience 
of  the  Crusades  may  have  made 
the  phrase  familiar  to  Englishmen. 

an  (iii.  i.  91),  if.  Originally  the 
same  as  the  common  connective 
and.  It  is  uncertain  whether  the 
meaning »/ was  introduced  through 
the  corresponding  Scandinavian 
word  (enda).  or  whether  it  devel- 
oped independently  in  English. 
The  dropping  of  the  final  d  was 
due  to  a  wish  to  prevent  confusion 
between  the  two  meanings.  An 
«/is  simply  if -if. 

annoy  (v.  3.  156).  annoyance. 
In  origin  it  is  the  same  as  the 
Frencli  ennui.  Both  are  from  the 
Old  Fr.  anoi,  which  is  probably 
from  I -at.  in  odia. 


atonement  (i.  3.  36).  reconciS- 
ation.  To  '  atone '  means  literally 
'to  set  at  one'.  The  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  Mid.  Eng.  aon  (='one'| 
has  survived  in  this  word,  as  in 
'  alone '  and  '  only  '. 

attainder  (iii.  5.  321,  dishonour* 
able  slain.  It  was  properly  a  legal 
term,  applied  to  the  loss  of  all 
civil  rights  consequent  upon  a  M-n- 
tence  of  death  or  outlawry.  It  is 
derived  from  a  substantival  use  ol 
the  Old  Fr.  utetndre  (Lat.  attin- 
gere)  -  '  to  attain  ',  '  to  reach  ',  and 
so  ' '.o  convict '.  Dr.  Murray  puinu 
out  thai  its  meaning  was  "subse- 
quently warped  by  association  wilt 
IT.  teindre,  'to  stain'",  the  pas 
part,  of  which  has  given  us  'taint', 
Etymologically  the  two  words  ait 
quite  distinct,  coming  respective!) 
from  Lat.  tangere  and  tin/ere. 

avannt  (i.  2.  46),  begone,  froo 
Lat.  ab  and  ante  ( Fr.  avant),  meaat 
literally  '  forward  ',  '  move  on  '. 

Barbed  'i.  i.  10),  a  form  o 
'  barded  '  =  '  armed  with  a  barb  a 
bard'.  From  Fr.  barde—'\\om 
armour ',  which  is  perhaps  ulti 
mately  an  Arabic  word  ('. Murray) 
The  '  barde '  was  the  covering  th* 
protected  the  chest  and  sides  0 
the  horse  when  caparisoned  fo 
battle. 

beaver  (v.  3.  50).  the  lower  par 
or  face-guard  of  the  helmet,  usei 
also  of  the  whole  helmet.  Tb 
French  word  is  baviere,  original!; 
=  ' a  child's  bib',  from  baver,  't 
slaver '. 

beholding  iii.  t.  129;  iii.  i.  107] 
indebted.  L>r.  Murray  says  tha 


GLOSSARY. 


189 


unusual  sense  evidently  origi- 
nated in  an  error  for  beholden,  the 
past  part,  of  Mid.  Eng.  beholden 
(A.-S.  be-hea.'dan),  'to  obtain', 
'hold ' — ' '  either  through  confusion 
of  the  endings  or  more  probably 
after  beholden  was  shortened  to 
beholde,  behold,  and  its  grammati- 
cal character  obscured  ". 

belike  (i.  i.  49),  in  all  likelihood. 
From  the  preposition  '  by  '  and  lik 
(A.-S.  lie),  'like',  used  either  as 
adjective  or  substantive.  TheAVw 
Eng.  Diet,  suggests  that  it  simply 
= '  by  what  is  likely '. 

bobb'd  (v.  3.  334),  struck.  From 
Mid.  Eng.  boben  or  bobben-=- ' 'to 
strike  with  the  fist ',  which  appears 
in  the  i3th  century.  Ultimate 
origin  uncertain.  Dr.  Murray -says 
it  is  "perhaps  onomatopoeic,  ex- 
pressing the  effect  of  a  sudden, 
but  not  very  weighty,  blow". 

boot  (iv.  4.  65),  good,  advan- 
tage. The  word  has  also  a  secon- 
dary meaning,  'help'.  Thus,  in 
v.  3.  301,  "St.  George  to  boot" 
means  '  St.  George  to  our  aid '. 
From  the  Anglo-Saxon  bdt,  'profit', 
which  is  connected  with  better, 
best.  Cf.  the  derivative  bootless. 

bulk  (i.  4.  40),  body.  The  word 
is  so  spelt  through  a  confusion 
(which  set  in  v'ery  early)  with  the 
word  bulk  —  size.  The  proper  form 
is  bouk,  which  is  cognate  with  the 
!  German  Bauch—  '  the  belly'. 

Cacodemon  (i.  3.  144).  A  very 
rare  word.  This  is  one  of  the  earli- 
est instances  of  its  use  recorded  bv 
the  .\eu>  English  Dictionary.  It 
is  properly  a  transcription  of  the 
Gn-ek  xaxotx.'uan,  'unfortunate'. 
But  Shakespeare  uses  the  word  as 
if  he  understood  it  to  mean  '  evil 
spirit'. 

caitiff,  properly  a  doublet  of  cap- 
tive. From  Lat.  captivum,  through 
the  Norman  French  (cf.  French 
clUtif\.  The  word  now  means  a 
cowardly  or  poor-spirited  person. 


Formerly,  however,  it  had  also  the 
sense  of  'miserable'  or '  unhappy', 
without  any  suggestion  of  cowar- 
dice. So  in  iv.  4.  100. 

chop  (i.  4.  160),  throw  suddenly. 
It  meant  originally  '  to  cut  with  a 
sharp  blow '  (Mid.  Eng.  choppen), 
hence  '  thrust  quickly '. 

cock-shut  time  (v.  3.  70),  twi- 
light. Derivation  uncertain.  Dr. 
Murray  (New  Eng.  Diet.)  inclines 
to  the  opinion  that  it  meant  simply 
the  time  for  shutting  up  the  fowls. 

cog  (i.  3.  48),  to  cheat.  Origin 
uncertain.  The  instances  in  the 
New  Eng.  Diet,  show  that  the 
word  was  at  first  used  of  a  form  of 
cheating  practised  in  playing  dice. 

conceit  (iii.  4.  51),  idea.  Ori- 
ginally =  '  anything  conceived  in 
the  mind ',  from  Lat.  conceptum, 
through  Old  Fr.  conceit.  In  Shake- 
speare the  word  has  never  by  itself 
the  modern  sense  of  '  vanity '. 

costard,  properly  a  large  apple. 
It  then  came  to  be  used  as  a  slang 
term  for  the  head  (i.  4.  159).  De- 
rivation doubtful.  The  New  Eng. 
Diet,  suggests  that  it  may  be  from 
the  O. Fr.  coste,  'a  rib',  and  may 
have  originally  meant  '  a  promi- 
nently ribbed  apple'. 

cue  (iii.  4.  27),  properly  a  word 
or  phrase  which  marks  the  end  of 
a  speech  or  scene,  and  serves  as  a 
signal  to  another  actor  to  begin. 
Skeat  gives  as  the  derivation  Fr. 
queue,  'a  tail',  but  Dr.  Murray 
points  out  that  queue  is  never  used 
in  French  in  the  sense  of  the  Eng- 
lish eve.  In  old  copies  the  word 
is  written  Q  or  q,  and  this  has 
given  rise  to  the  conjecture  that  it 
may  be  the  first  letter  of  qualis  or 
quando,  used  to  indicate  when  the 
new  speaker  should  begin. 

Defused  (i.  2.  78),  shapeless. 
From  Lat.  defusus,  past  part,  of 
defundere.  In  our  play  it  is  used 
with  an  obvious  reference  to  Rich- 
ard's deformity.  In  Henry  V.,  v. 


190 


KING    RICHARD   TI1K   THIRD. 


a.  61  ("  defused  attire  ").  it  has  the 
sense  of  'disordered*.  Cf.  l*ar. 
i.  4.  a. 

demiM  (iv.  4.  247;.  niake  trans- 
ference of.  The  word  is  more 
familiar  as  a  substantive^' trans- 
ference', 'death',  from  Old  Fr. 
Jt^s\mis{f).  past  part,  of  Jtsmtttre, 
'  to  displace'  (Lat.  dimittere\. 

descant,  originally  a  musical 
term.  From  French  deuhanter 
(Lat.  fanfare).  The  substantive 
meant  a  part  added  by  way  of  vari- 
ation to  a  simple  melody,  iln  I ht 
Two  Gentlemen  (i.  a.  94)  it  is  con- 
trasted with  the  '  bass '  as  if  it  were 
the  '  treble '.  >  In  Kichard  111.  we 
have  it  used  metaphorically  nil.  7. 
49)  for  a  discourse  upon  a  theme. 
The  verb  meant  to  add  a  variation 
to  a  melody.  In  i.  i.  27  it  is  used 
much  as  we  should  use  it  now. 
though  doubtless  (as  Mr.  Wright 
(ays)  with  a  play  upon  its  musical 
significance. 

duty.  According  to  Schmidt 
this  word  occurs  in  three  distinct 
senses  in  our  play:  (i)  with  its 
ordinary  meaning  of  '  what  is  due' 
(as  i.  3.  250);  (2)  in  the  sense  of 
'  homage'  (as  i.  3.  251);  (3)  in  the 
sense  of  '  reverence ',  '  respect '  (as 
ii.  a.  108).  As  to  its  derivation. 
Skeat  says  it  is  "  a  coined  word, 
formed  by  analogy  with  ICnglish 
words  in  -A (of  Kr.  origin)  from  adj. 
due",  which  in  turn  comes  from 
Old  Fr.  deue,  feminine  of  past  part, 
of  de-coir  (Lat.  debert). 

Egally  liii.  7.  213).  equally. 
From  Old  Fr.  <#•<;/ (Mod.  Fr.  igai\ 
'  equal '.  The  corresponding  form 
of  the  adjective  occurs  in  Titus 
Andronicus,  iv.  4.  4. 

empery,  dominion,  sway  (I^-it. 
imperitim).  Hence  'possessions' 
(iii.  7.  136). 

enfranchise  (i.  i.  no),  set  free. 
This  is  very  nearly  the  literal  sense 
of  the  word,  which  comes  from  en 


\    and  Old  Yr.friinfkiit—  'prixileged 

liberty'.    The  Old  Fr.  franc  ( Low 

I -at.  /r.iHfus).  'free',  is  "derived 

i    from  Old  High  German  franko.  a 

|    free  man,  a  Frank.     The  Fronts 

wi-re  a  Germanic  people"  (Skeat). 

entertain  (Old   Fr.  enlrettnir. 

Low    Lai.     inter-ttnere)     has    in 

K if fin  rd    III.    three    senses    that 

shoulJ  be  noted  :  ( i)  'while  away ', 

'pass',  in  i.  i.  29;  (a)  'take  into 

sen-ice '  in  i.  2.  257  (cf.  •  to  retain 

a    barrister');    (3)    'harbour'   (of 

feelings)  in  i.  3.  4.  and  i.  4.  135. 

exhale  <  i.  2.  58,  166).  draw  out. 
According  to  the  New  F.ng.  Diet. 
this  is  not  a  mere  misunderstand- 
ing of  the  ordinary  exhale  (1-at. 
exhalare).  due  to  a  false  etymo- 
logy, but  a  distinct  word  from  I^at. 
f\-  and  Knglish  hale,  'to  draw'.  \ 
This  is  the  earliest  instance  quoted. 
expiate  (iii.  3.  231.  In  his  very 
interesting  article.' on  the  suffix  -ate 
in  the  AVw  Kng.  I>i,-t.,  Dr.  Murray 
clears  up  the  history  of  such  forms 
in  the  following  wav.  About  1400. 
English,  following  French  analogy, 
began  to  form  participial  adjectives 
directly  from  I^atin  by  dropping 
the  termination  of  the  past  p.irti- 
ciple.  (Cf.  '  convict '  j.  4.  192]  ' 
from  ronvift-us,  '  contract '  'iii  7. 
179]  from  contract-us,  &c.)  From 
the  first  Latin  conjugation  came 
1  desolate  '.  '  expiate  '.  '  separate  '. 
&c.,  the  e  being  added  for  phon- 
etic reasons.  Subsequently  many 
of  these  participial  adjectives  gave 
rise  to  causative  verbs,  the  infini- 
tives of  which  were  identical  with 
the  adjectives  from  which  they  were 
formed.  For  some  time  they  con- 1 
tinued  to  be  used  as  past  parti- 
ciples of  the  new  verbs.  But  at 
length  regular  past  participles  with 
•fd  began  to  be  formed,  and  then 
the  original  words  either  became 
obsolete ( as  'expiate')or continued 
in  use  as  adjectives  (as  'deso- 
late', 'separate',  'moderate',  &c.). 
The  only  surviving  participle  of 
this  tvoe  is  '  situate '. 


GLOSSARY. 


191 


Feature  (i.  i.  19),  not  'face', 
'  form  ',     '  figure  ',     '  make '. 
3m  Old  Fr.  faiture  (Lat.  fac- 
ral 

flesh 'd  (iv.  3.  6),  hardened.    For 
:  technical  sense  see  Notes.  The 
ral  meaning  of  the  word  is  '  to 
with  flesh  '  (A.-S.  ftcesc}.     So 
n  Second  Part  of  Henry  IV.,  iv. 

•  133— 

' '  the  wild  dog 

ill  flesh  his  tooth  on  every  in- 
nocent ". 

King  John,  v.  i.  71,  we  have, 
a  singularly   bold   metaphor, 
'Shall  a  beardless  boy  .   .  .  flesh 
spirit  in  our  warlike  fields?" 
:  sense  of  '  initiate '  is  predomi- 
it  in  First  Part  of  Henry  IV., 
4-  133— 
"ome,  brother  John ;  full  bravely 

hast  thou  fiesh'd 
tiy  maiden  sword  ". 

fond  (iii.  2.  26;  4.  83),  foolish. 
Mid.    Eng.   fonn-ed,    past 
ticiple  of  fonnen  =  '  to  behave 
like  a  fool'.      Professor  Herford 
says :   ' '  The  modern  sense  arose 
from  the  association  of  warm  feel- 
King  with  intellectual  feebleness". 
JcHe  compares   the  inverse  transi- 
"fijpn   in   the  case  of  the   modern 
English  word  'silly',  which  origi- 
nally   meant    '  happy  ',    '  blessed ' 
(German  selig). 

frank'd  (i.  3.  314;  iv.  5.  3).  See 

Notes.     A  '  frank  '  (Old  Fr.  franc) 

was  a  pen  for  fattening  cattle,  pigs, 

or  fowls.      The   word    occurs   in 

Second  Part  of  Henry  IV.,  ii.  2. 

.  ri6o:  ' '  Doth  the  old  boar  feed  in 

cfcthe  old  frank?" 

Gall  (iv.  4.  53),  irritate  by  rub- 
bing. From  Old  Fr.  galle,  '  an 
.itching'  (I^at.  callus=a.  piece  of 
hard  skin). 

gossip,    properly    a    godfather 
godmother.       From    god-sib, 
elated  in  God'.     It  afterwards 
to  mean   a  crony,   and   to 
rivey  a  suggestion  of  contempt. 


Schmidt  says  thai  in  i.  i.  83  it 
simply  means  talkative  women. 
Mr.  Wright,  however,  in  his  note, 
explains  it  as  "persons  who  are 
on  intimate  terms,  and  therefore 
supposed  to  be  possessed  of  influ- 
ence with  each  other".  If  Mr. 
Wright's  view  is  correct,  the  irony 
is  bitter  indeed. 

gramercy  (iii.  2.  108),  an  excla- 
mation =  Fr.  grand  merci. 

Index  (ii.  2.  149),  introduction, 
prologue.  In  iv.  4.  85  it  has  been 
supposed  to  refer  to  a  programme 
of  the  pageant  or  dumb  show,  that 
was  distributed  beforehand  among 
the  audience. 

infection,  usea  in  the  concrete 
sense  of  'plague'  (i.  2.  78).  See 
Notes.  In  i.  2.  150  "infected" 
occurs  in  the  sense  of  '  affected 
with  love-sickness ',  with  which  cf. 
Love's  Labour 's  Lost,  ii.  i.  230, 
and  the  corresponding  use  of  the 
substantive  in  Much  Ado,  ii.  3. 126. 

i-wis  (i.  3.  102),  certainly.  Cf. 
German  gewiss. 

Jet  (ii.  4.  51),  the  original  form 
of  jut.  (Skeat  compares  the  old 
use  of  jutty  for  jetty. )  It  comes 
from  Old  Fr.  jetter,  '  to  throw 
forth'  (Lat.  jactare}.  Formerly  it 
meant  '  to  strut ',  e.g.  Cymbeline, 
iii-  3-  5— 

"  the  gates  of  monarchs 
Are  arched  so  high  that  giants  may 

jet  through". 

For  the  sense  of  '  encroach '.  cf. 
Titus  Andronicus,  ii.  i.  64. 

Lewd  (i.  3.  61),  rude,  vulgar. 
The  word  originally  meant  'igno- 
rant', from  A.-S.  lowed,  the  origin 
of  which  is  doubtful.  (Professor 
Herford  inclines  to  Lat.  laicus  or 
laicatus,  'a  layman'.)  In  iii.  7. 
72  it  is  used  in  its  modern  sense. 

luxury  (iii.  5.  80),  sensuality. 
This  is  the  usual  meaning  of 
the  word  in  Elizabethan  English 


192 


KIN<;    KICHAKI)   TIIK   THIRD. 


I.u\un.t.  from  which  it  is  derived, 
has  .1  similar  force  in  theological 
Latin. 

Malapert  (i.  3.  255),  saucy. 
From  Old  Fr.  mal,  'ill  (l.at. 
malt),  and afert,  'skilful',  'expert' 
(l«at.  itftrtus).  The  literal  sense 
will  then  be  'ill-behaved'. 

malmsey  (i.  4.  161),  a  corrup- 
tion of  Mid.  Eng.  malvesie  from 
Old  Fr.  malvoisie.  The  name  is 
derived  from  the  town  of  Malvasia 
on  the  E.  coast  of  the  Morea. 

marry  (i.  3.  98),  a  common  ex- 
clamation. From  the  name  of  the 
Virgin  Mary. 

methinks,  it  seems  to  me.  From 
A.-S.  byncan,  'to  seem',  which  is 
quite  distinct  from  \>?n(an.  'to 
think '.  For  the  form  '  methoughts' 
see  on  i.  4.  9. 

mettle  liv.  4.  302),  the  same 
word  as  metal.  Schmidt  mentions 
that  the  old  texts  of  Shakespeare 
do  not  distinguish  the  two  words 
by  spelling.  Mettle  has  come  to 
have  its  present  sense  of  '  spirit ' 
through  a  metaphor  from  the  qua- 
lity of  a  sword  blade. 

mew'd  up  (i.  i.  38).  shut  up. 
Literally  it  means  '  shut  up  in  a 
mew'.  The  word  mue  (I^atin 
mutare,  to  change)  in  Middle  Eng- 
lish meant  a  cage  where  falcons 
were  kept  while  moulting.  Stables 
have  come  to  be  called  mews,  be- 
cause in  A.D.  1534  "the  royal 
stables  were  rebuilt  in  a  place 
where  the  roval  falcons  had  been 
kept ". 

moe  (iv.  4.  199,  1504),  more. 
The  two  words  are  from  the  same 
root,  but  moe  is  not  a  positive,  as 
is  sometimes  supposed.  It  comes 
from  the  adverb  ma.  while  more 
comes  from  the  corresponding  ad- 
jective. Moe  was  often  used  as  a 
neuter  substantive  followed  by  a 
genitive  plural.  By  and  by  "the 
force  of  the  genitive  was  lost,  but 
moe  continued  to  be  followed  by  a 


plural  and  thus  came  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  proper  comparative 
of  many,  the  word  more  being  used 
as  the  comparative  ol  imuH. 

Obsequiously  (L  2.  3).  \Vuh 
the  force  of  tin-  adverb  lit  this  pas- 
sage cf.  the  use  of  the  adjective 
in  Sonneti  xxxi.  5:  "  Many  a  holy 
and1  obsequious  tear",  and  Hamlet, 
i.  2.93," obsequious  sorrow".  This 
sense  came  from  association  with 
I-at.  obitifui<f  (' obsequies ')  rather 
than  obiequium  ('complaisance'), 
both  of  which  are  formed  from 
obitqvi. 

owe  (iv.  4.  142).  possess.  This 
sense  is  very  common  in  Eliza- 
bethan Eng.  From  M:d.  Eng. 
,  awen,  owen  (A.-S.  dgaa),  'to 
'  possess",  the  Mod.  Eng.  'own' 
being  formed  from  the  past  parti- 
ciple of  the  A.-.S.  verb.  'ITie  word 
is  used  in  the  modern  sense  in  i.  3. 
170.  A  parallel  to  the  double 
sense  may  be  found  in  the  occa- 
sional occurence  of  Fr.  <nwr= 
'owe'.  'fai  a  rous  huit  millt 
francs'  (Bouvier.  Colette,  26). 

Parlous  (ii.  4.  35;  iii.  i.  154).  a 
corruption  of  '  perilous '.  frequent 
in  Shakespeare  in  a  half-humorous 
sense.  As  soon  as  the  i  dropped 
out,  '  perlous '  would  necessarily 
become  parlous,  owing  to  the 
ojxjration  of  the  phonetic  law  of 
the  lOth  century  by  which  '  fr+ 
consonant'  became  '  a  r-f  con  son- 
ant '.  Other  examples  are  '  Harry' 
for  '  Henry ' ,  '  parson '  for  '  person ', 
'far'  from  Mid.  Eng.  ferre.  (Cf. 
'  'Varsity  '  for  '  University  '  and 
'  tarble '  for  '  terrible '. ) 

peise  (v.  3.  105).  weigh.  The 
word  (which  is  the  same  as  poise} 
comes  from  the  Old  French  peiser 
=feser  i I^at.  pensare). 

pill'd  (i.  3.  159),  plundered. 
From  Mid.  Eng.  pillen,  'to  rob' 
( French  filler.  Lat  pilare\  The 
derivative  '  pillage '  is  still  in  com* 
mon  use. 


GLOSSARY. 


'93 


jvent,  literally  'logo  before', 
anticipate',  trom  Lat.  prae 
and  venio,  as  in  "  Prevent  us,  oh 
Ixjrd,  in  all  our  doings,  with  Thy 
most  gracious  favour  ".  The  word 
occurs  in  this  literal  sense  in  iii.  5. 
55.  In  Shakespeare,  even  where 
it  approaches  the  modern  meaning 
most  nearly  (ii.  3.  26;  iii.  4.  83), 
the  notion  of  taking  precautions 
beforehand  seems  to  be  implied. 

purchase  (iii.  7.  187),  capture. 
The  word  is  derived  from  Old  Fr. 
pur  (Lat.  pro)  and  chacer  (Lat. 
captare,  '  to  catch ' ),  and  was  origi- 
nally applied  to  acquisition  of  any 
kind  (John,  iii.  i.  205).  Sometimes 
it  definitely  means  '  booty '  (First 
Part  of  King  Henry  IV., \\.  1. 101). 
In  ii.  i.  63  of  our  play  the  verb  is 
used  very  much  as  it  might  be  now. 

Quit  (iv.  4.  20;  v.  3.  262),  repay, 
requite.  From  Old  Fr.  gutter, 
'to  settle1  (Lat.  quietare,  from 

quietus). 

Raze  (iii.  2.  n),  scrape.  From 
French  raser,  Low  Lat.  rasare, 
formed  from  the  supine  of  radere. 
It  is  sometimes  spelt  rase.  The 
sense  of  '  demolish '  comes  from 
the  idea  of  scraping  out  a  thing. 

reft  (iv.  4.  233),  participle  of 
reave, '  to  rob  '  (A.-S.  redfian,  Mid. 
Eng.  reuen).  Derivative,  'bereave'. 

resolve  has  the  sense  of  '  in- 
form '  in  iv.  5.  19.  In  iv.  2.  26  and 
120  it  might  almost  be  rendered 
'  answer '. 

retail  (iii.  i.  77),  recount.  For 
iv.  4.  335  see  Notes.  The  word 
comes  from  Old  Fr.  re,  '  again ', 
and  tailler,  '  to  cut '  (taille,  '  an 
incision ',  from  Lat.  talea,  '  a  thin 
rod'  or  'slip '). 

rood  (iii.  2.  77;  iv.  4.  165),  the 
cross,  from  A.-S.  rdd,  a  cross.  It 
is  the  same  word  as  'rod',  and 
its  use  as  a  name  for  a  measure  of 
land  comes  from  the  use  of  a  rod 
in  measuring,  with  which  cf.  'pole' 
and  '  perch '. 


runagate  (iv.  4.  465),  properly 
a  doublet  of  renegade.  The  Middle 
English  renegat  (Lat.  renegatum) 
means  an  apostate.  The  spelling 
was  changed  owing  to  a  supposed 
connection  with  run,  and  gate, 
'  way '  (cf.  note  on  shamefast,  i.  4. 
142).  It  almost  seems  as  if  Shake- 
speare understood  it  in  the  sense  of 
'  runaway  '.  For  Richard  nowhere 
accuses  Richmond  of  treachery, 
though  he  does  accuse  him  of  cow- 
ardice in  taking  refuge  in  Brittany. 
The  form  renegade  was  introduced 
through  Spanish. 

Scathe  (i.  3.  317),  harm.  De- 
rived from  the  A.-S.  verb  sced&an, 
'  to  harm  '  (cf.  Ger.  Schade).  De- 
rivative, '  scatheless '. 

shamefast  (i.  4.  142).  See 
Notes.  Literally  it  means  fixed 
(fast)  in  modesty  (shame).  A.-S. 
scamfcest. 

shrewd  (ii.  4.  35),  mischievous. 
In  Richard  II.  (iii.  2.  59)  we 
have  ' '  shrewd  steel "  = '  destruc- 
tive steel '.  The  modern  meaning 
of  '  clever '  comes  through  the  in- 
termediate sense  of  '  cunning  '. 
Derived  from  Mid.  Eng.  schrewed, 
past  participle  of  schrewen  '  to 
curse',  from  the  adj.  schrewe, 
'  evil '.  Prof.  Herford  says :  ' '  The 
O.K.  scredwa  has  only  the  sense 
'shrew-  (or  barn-)  mouse',  but 
this  was  doubtless  the  same  word, 
meaning  'the  destructive  one'. 
The  word  mouse  itself  means 
'  stealer '." 

sirrah,  a  form  of  address  used 
in  anger  or  contempt.  It  is  con- 
nected with  sir. 

soothe  (i.  3.  298),  flatter.  From 
A.-S.  stffi.  "The  original  sense 
was  assent  to  as  being  true,  hence 
to  say  yes  to,  humour,  flatter, 
approve  of"  (Skeat). 

sop  (i.  4.  162),  a  piece  of  bread 
dipped  in  wine.  So  the  Frahke- 
leyn  in  Chaucer's  Prologue  (334) 
loved  "  a  sop  in  wyn  ".  Mid.  Eng. 


KIN<i    KI<  HARD   TIU.   THIRD. 


wppt-  from  A. -S.  iiif-an.  'to  sup'. 
Tne  derivative  "  milk-sop"  occurs 
in  v.  3.  325.  The  Mod.  Kr.  soufe 
properly  means  the  slice  of  bread 
put  into  the  soup('  metlre une  soufe 
dam  It  bouillon  ').  though  it  is  now 
the  ordinary  expression  for  soup 
of  all  kinds,  fotagt  being  the  more 
polite  term. 

sort  (verb:  ii.  a.  148;  3.  36). 
arrange,  cause  to  fall  out.  Through 
Fr.  from  Lat.  sort-em,  'a  lot'. 

tort  (substantive:  v.  3.  316),  set. 
Literally  'a  chance  collection', 
'  lot ',  from  soft-em,  as  above. 

•truck  <i.  i.  92),  advanced.  Cf. 
Luke,  i.  7:  "well  stricken  in  years'". 
From  Mid.  Kng.  striken.  A.-S. 
itrican,  '  to  proceed  ',  '  move  for- 
ward '.  Skeat  quotes  Pier's  Plow- 
man (Prologue,  183):  "A  mouse 
.  .  .  stroke  forth  boldly",  as  an 
illustration  of  the  original  sense  of 
the  word. 

suggestion  (iii.  2.  103),  instiga- 
tion. Always  in  Shakespeare  with 
the  notion  of  prompting  to  evil. 
Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  3.  134 — 

' '  that  suggestion 

whose  horrid  image  doth  unfix  my 
hair  ". 

swine  (v.  2.  io>.  both  singular 
and  plural,  as  were  win  in  Mid. 
Eng. ,  and  nt>/n  in  A.-S. 

Tall,  excellent  of  itskind.  Hence, 
when  applied  to  a  righting  man 
(i.  4.  156),  'valiant'.  (Cf.  our  use 
of  'stout '.)  From  Mid.  Eng.  /«//, 
'seemly'.  Though  the  applicn- 
tion  of  the  word  is  now  limited 
almost  entirely  to  size,  a  survival 
of  the  old  use  is  found  in  the 
phrase  'a  fine  tall  copy',  which 
is  still  current  in  booksellers'  cata- 
logues. 

teen  (iv.  i.  95),  sorrow,  vex- 
ation. It  comes  from  the  Mid. 
Eng.  ttne,  A.-S.  ttfna,  vexation. 
(Skeat.) 


temper  (i.  i.  65).  properly  to 
adjust  by  mixing,  to  regulate,  und 
hence  to  influence.  From  I. it. 
Icmferare.  Another  form  of  the 
same  word  is  tamper. 

tetchy  (iv.  4.  i68>.  peevish 
lYoperly  'full  of  letches,  i.e.  luid 
habits,  caprices ' .  From  M  id .  Kng. 
tecche  or  lathe,  'a  (bad)  habit'. 
(Cf.  Fr.  taehf,  'a  stain'.)  Skeat 
points  out  that  this  is  the  word 
now  corrupted  to'  touchy ',  through 
a  supposed  connection  with  'touch'. 
Cf.  Notes  (i.  4.  142). 

Welkin,  sky.  From  A.-S. 
•wolf tin.  '  clouds '.  Cf.  German 
wolkfn. 

whiles  (i.  2.  32).  properly  the 
genitive  case  of  the  substantive 
while  (  —  'time')  used  as  an  adverb. 
Skeat  compares  '  twice'  (=.twi-es\. 
He  points  out.  however,  that  in 
A.-S.  the  genitive  of  this  substan- 
tive, which  is  feminine,  was  the 
same  as  the  nominative  (hwile). 

withal  has  two  distinct  uses  in 
Shakespeare:  (i)  as  an  ad  verb  = 
'moreover';  (2)  as  an  emphatic, 
form  of  the  preposition  with.  In 
the  latter  case  it  is  generally  placed 
at  the  end  of  the  sentence.  It  is 
compounded  from  the  preposition 
with  and  the  dative  of  a!,  all. 


worser   <  i.   3.   102 ),   a  double 
comparative.     In  Middle  English 


r   (i.   3.   i< 

live.     In  N 

nrrse  was  dissyllabic  (A.  -S.  wirsa), 
whence  probably  the  double  com- 
parative form. 

wot  (ii.  3.  181.  third  singular 
present  indicative  of  the  verb  wit, 
'to  know'  (A.-S.  witan).  The 
second  plural  occurs  in  iii.  2.  92. 
Cf.  the  force  of  the  substantive 
'wit'  in  iii.  i.  50,  and  of  the  ad- 
jective '  witty  '  in  iv.  2.  42. 

Zounds,  an  onth--  ''s  wounds'. 
i.e.  'Cods  wounds'.  See  on  iii. 
7-  219- 


INDEX  OF  WORDS. 


iv.  2.  5. 
abate,  v.  5.  35. 
abode,  i.  3.  169. 
acquittance,  iii.  7.  233. 
adulterate,  iv.  4.  69. 
advance,  i.  2.  40;  v.  3.  264;  v. 

3-  348. 

advantaging,  iv.  4.  323. 
advertised,  iv.  4.  501. 
aery,  i.  3.  264. 
after  supper,  iv.  3.31. 
age,  iv.  4.  394;  v.  3.  262. 
confirmed,  iv.  4.  171. 
a  high,  iv.  4.  86. 
aiming  at,  i.  •?.  6;. 
almost,  iii.  5   35 
many,  iii.  7.  184. 
iibling,  i.  i.  17. 
amendment,  i.  3.  33. 

uorous  looking-glass,  i.  I.  15. 
apparent,  iii.  5.  30. 
ch,  iv.  3.  2. 

lies,  iii.  7.  40,  174. 
s,  i.  2.  31;  iii.  7.  210. 
spect,  i.  2.  23. 

odds,  ii.  I.  70. 
tenement,  i.  3.  36. 
ttend,  iv.  4.  195. 
attorneys,  iv.  4.  127,  413 ;  v.  3. 

&3- 
aweless,  ii.  4.  52. 

barbed,  i.  I.  io. 
basilisks,  i.  a.  151. 
battalion,  v.  3.  ii. 
battle,  v.  3.  88,  299. 
beads,  iii..  7.  93. 


ob-Junt 

,b'jln«il 
ii  ,tn<ril 

•'  M 
.i  .tnort 

•,»!-|Kit-.ljj"l 


i  49. 


i'ii'Kj/-)npU|| 
4  .vi  .ballfi^ 


bend,  i.  2.  95. 

benefit,  iii.  7.  196. 

betide  of,  i.  3.  6. 

bettering,  iv.  4.  122. 

blind,  iii.  6.  12. 

blood,  i.  2.  16. 

boar,  iii.  2.  II;  v.  2.  7. 

bobb'd,  v.  3.  334. 

book,  iii.  5.  27. 

bottled,  i.  3.  242. 

braved;  v.  3.  279. ' 

brawl,  i.  3.  324. 

Bretons,  iv.  t.  43;  v.  3.  317. 

bridge,  the,  v.  2.  72. 

brief,  ii.  2.  43;  iv.  4.  28. 

bulk,  i.  4.  40. 

bunch-backed,  i.  3.  246. 

burthened,  iv.  4.  in. 


capable,  iii.  i.  155. 
careful,  i.  3.  83. 
carnal,  iv.  4.  58. 
censures,  ii.  2.  144.. 
chamber,  iii.  I.  I. 
chance,  iv.  2.  103. 
characters,  iii.  I.  8l. 
cheerly,  v.  2.  14. 
childish-foolish,  i.  3.  142. 
chop,  i.  4.  1 60. 
Christian  faithful,  i.  4.  4. 
circumstance,  by,  i.  2.  77. 
clamorous,  iv.  4.  152. 
close,  v.  2.  35. 
closure,  iii.  3.  1 1 . 
cloudy,  ii.  2.  112. 
cockatrice,  i.  2.  150;  iv.  I 
cog,  i.  3.  48. 
competitors,  iv.  4.  506. 
complaints,  ii.  2.  67. 
complots,  iii.  I.  192. 


55- 


196 


KIN(;    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 


conceit,  iii.  4.  51. 
concluded,  i.  3.  1 5- 
conduct,  i.  I.  45. 
conscience,  v.  3.   193. 
consequence,  iv.  2.  15;  4.  6. 
considerate,  iv.  2.  30. 
consistory,  ii.  2.  151. 
consorted  with,  iii.  4.  73;  7.  137. 
content,  iii.  2.  113. 
conversation,  iii.  5.  31. 
counsel,  ii.  3.  2O. 
counted,  iv.  i.  47. 
cousin,  ii.  I.  64;  2.  8;  4.  9;  iii. 

I.  2.  101. 

cozened,  iv.  4.  222. 
crosses,  iii.  I.  4. 
cross-row,  i.  i.  55. 
cry,  i.  3.  235;  ii.  2.  104;  iv.  4. 

'515;  v.  3.  224. 
current,  i.  2.  84;   3.  256;   ii.   I. 

94;  iv.  2.  9. 
curst,  i.  2.  49.    . 

dally,  ii.  I.  12. 
date,  iv.  4.  254. 
day-bed,  iii.  7.  72. 
deal  upon,  iv.  2.  75. 
dear,  i.  4.  215;  ii.  2.  77. 
death,  the,  i.  2.  179;  iii.  2.  55. 
debase  on  me,  i.  2.  247. 
declension,  iii.  7.  189. 
decline,  iv.  4.  97. 
deep,  iii.  5.  5;  7.  75. 
definitively,  iii.  7.  153. 
defused-infection,  i.  2.  78. 
demise,  iv.  4.  247. 
denier,  i.  2.  252. 
deny,  v.  3.  334. 
devoted,  i.  2.  35. 
diet,  i.  I.  139. 

direction,  v.  3.  16,  236,  298,302. 
discipline,  iii.  7.  16;  v.  3.  17. 
discovered,  iv.  4.  240. 
disyracious,  iii.  7.  112;  iv.4_  177. 
dispatch,  i.  2.  182;  iii.  4.  96. 
dissemble,  ii.  2.  31. 
dissembling,  i.   I.  19. 
dissentious,  i.  3.  46. 
distinguish,  iii.  I.  9. 


divided  councils,  iii.  I.  179. 
divinely,  iii.  7.  62;  v.  3.  17. 
doers,  i.  3.  352. 
doting,  iv.  4.  300. 
draw  forth,  iii.  7.  198. 
dying,  iv.  4.  21. 

effect,  i.  2.  120. 
egally,  iii.  7.  213. 
else,  i.  3.  64. 
elvish-marked,  i.  3.  228. 
embas.sage,  ii.   I.  3 
enforcement,  v.  3.  238. 
enfranchise,  i.  i.  1 10. 
engross,  iii.  7.  76. 
engrossed,  iii.  6.  2. 
envious,  i.  3.  26. 
estate,  ii.  2.  127. 
estates,  iii.  7.  213. 
even,  iii.  7.  157. 
evidence,  i.  4.  188. 
exclaims,  i.  2.  52. 
exercise,  iii.  2.  112;  7-  64. 
expedition,  iv.  4.  136. 
expiate,  iii.  3.  23. 

factious,  i.  3.  128;  ii.  I.  20. 

factor,  iii.  7.  134. 

fall,  v.  3.  135;  iv.  2.  66. 

fat,  v.  3.  258. 

father,  i.  3.  135. 

father-in-law,  v.  3.  Si. 

fault  le>s,  i.  3.   178. 

feature,  i.  1.  19. 

f.aky,  v.  3.  86. 

fleeting,  i.  4.  55. 

flesh'd,  iv.  3.  6. 

foil,  v.  3.  250. 

fond,  iii.  2.  26;  7.  147;  v.  3.  330. 

foot-cloth,  iii.  4.  86. 

forewaid,  v.  3.  293. 

frank'd,  i.  3.  314;  iv.  5.  3. 

from,   ii.   I.  94;  iii.  5.  32;  iv.  I. 

43;  v.  3.  284. 
front,  i.  I.  9. 
fulsome,  v.  3.  132. 

gallant- springing,  i.  4.  227. 
galled,  iv.  4.  53. 


INDEX   OF   WORDS. 


gear,  i.  4.  158. 
gentle,  i.  3.  73. 
given  in  charge,  i.  I.  85. 
golden  fee,  iii.  5.  96. 
gone,  iv.  3.  20. 
gracious,  ii.  4.  20. 
grand,  iv.  4.  52. 
gross,  iii.  6.  lo. 
grossly,  iv.  i.  80. 

'ha!  i.  3.  234;  v.  3.  5. 
[halt,  i.  i.  23. 

hap,  i.  2.  17. 

hatches,  i.  4.  13. 

haught,  ii.  3.  28. 

hearse,  i.  2.  2. 

helpless,  i.  2.  13. 

hoised,  iv.  4.  529.  , 

hold,  iii.  2.  107.    -I?;... 

hot,  i.  3.  311. 

hull,  iv.  4.  438. 

idea,  right,  iii.  7.  13. 
idle,  iii.  I.  103. 
ill  -dispersing,  iv.  I.  53. 
incapable,  ii.  2.  18. 
incensed,  iii.  I.  152. 
indirect,  iii.  I.  31. 
indirectly,  iv.  4.  25. 
induction,  i.  i.  32;  iv.  4.  5. 
infer,  iii.  5.  75;  7.  12. 
inferr'd,  iii.  7.  32;  v.  3.  314. 
infest,  i.  2.  149. 
instance,  iii.  2.  25. 
intelligencer,  iv.  4.  71. 
intending,  iii.  5.  8. 
intents,  iii.  5.  69. 
intestate,  iv.  4.  128. 
invocate,  i.  2.  8. 
inward,  iii.  4.  8. 
'  twitted,  iv.  2.  28. 

.'(   .i  ,b'Ifj;i. 


197 


. 

ck,  iv.  2.  117. 
cks,  i.  3.  53.    _ 
ii.  4.  51. 
ipeth,  iii.  i.  i 

v.  3.  29. 
p-cold,  i.  2.  5. 


, 
,.'^    , 


kind,  i.  4.  247. 
kindly,  iii.  2.  33. 

labour,  i.  4.  253. 

lag,  ii.  I.  90. 

lamenting,  i.  2.  262. 

lap,  ii.  i.  115. 

late,  iii.  I.  99. 

leads,  iii.  7.  55. 

leisure,  v.  3.  97,  238. 

Lethe,  iv.  4.  250. 

level,  iv.  4.  202. 

lewd,  i.  3.  61. 

lie,  i.  i.  115;  iv.  i.  95. 

lightly,  iii.  I.  94. 

likelihood,  ii.  2.  136;  iii.  4.  57. 

likes,  iii.  4.  51. 

limit,  v.  3.  25. 

looker-on,  iv.  I.  31. 

luxury,  iii.  5.  80. 

made  means,  v.  3.  248. 
makest,  i.  3.  164. 
measures,  i.  I.  8. 
meet'st,  iii.  5.  74. 
melancholy,  v.  3.  68. 
misdoubt,  iii.  2.  89. 
moan,  ii.  2.  113. 
moiety,  i.  2.  250. 
momentary,  iii.  4.  98. 
monuments,  i.  I.  6. 
moralize,  iii.  I.  83. 
mortal,  iv.  4.  26;  v.  3.  124. 
mortal-staring,  v.  3.  90. 
mutual,  ii.  2.  113. 

need,  iii.  5.  85. 
neglect,  iii.  4.  25. 
nice,  iii.  7.  175. 
niece,  iv.  I.  I. 
nomination,  iii.  4.  5. 
nonage,  ii.  3.  13. 

obsequiously,  i.  2.  3. 
odds,  at,  ii.  I.  70. 
o'erworn,  i.  I.  81. 
offices,  iii.  4.  10. 
opposite,  ii.  2.  94;  iv.  4.  215, 
402;  v.  4.  3. 


19* 


KIN(,    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 


orient,  iv.  4.  322. 
overdo,  li.  2.  iii. 
owed,  iv.  4.  142. 
owls,  iv.  4.  509. 

painted,  i.  3.  241. 

parlous,  ii.  4.  35;  iii.  I.  154. 

part,  ii.  I.  5. 

party,  i.  3.   138;  iii.  2.  47;  iv. 

4.  190.  528;  v.  3.  13. 
patient,  i.  2.  82. 
pattern,  i.  2.  54. 
peevish-fond,  iv.  4.  417. 
period,  to  make,  i.  3.  238. 
pew-fellow,  iv.  4.  58, 
pill'd,  i.  3.  159. 
plagued,  i.  3.  181. 
plain,  i.  2.  237. 
pleasing,  i.  I.  13. 
pluck-on,  iv.  2.  65. 
post,  iii.  5.  73. 

power,  iv.  3.48;  4.449;  v.  3.  38. 
precedent,  iii.  6.  7. 
presence,  i.  3.  54, 
present,  iv.  5.  5. ' 
presentation,  iv.  4.  84. 
presently,  i.  2.  213. 
prime,  iv.  3.  19;  4.  170. 
process,  iv.  3.  32. 
prodigious,  i.  2.  22. 
profaned,  iv.  4.  367. 
prolonged,  iii.  4.  47. 
proof,  in,  v.'  3.  219. 
proper,  i.  2.  255;  iii.  7.  125. 
prophesied,  iv.  2.  99;  v.  3.  129. 
puissance,  v.  3.  299. 
punched,  v.  3.  125. 
pursuivant,  iii.  2.  97;  v.  3.  59. 

quest,  i.  4.  189. 

quick,  i.  2.  5,  65;  iv.  4.  361. 

quit,  iv.  4.  2O;  v.  3.  262. 

rag,  v.  3.  328. 
ragged,  iv.  i.  102. 
ransome,  v.  3.  265. 
reason,  i.  4.  165;  iv.  4.  537. 
recure,  iii.  7.  130. 
reduce,  ii.  2.  68;  v.  5.  36. 


re-edified,  iii.  i.  71. 
remoise,  iii.  7.  211. 
remorseful,  i.  2.   156. 
replenished,  iv.  3.  18. 
report,  iv.  4.  152. 
lesolve,  iv.  2.  26. 
respect,  i.  3.  2y6. 
lestiain.  v.  3.  322. 
retail,  iv.  4.  335. 
retailed,  iii.  I.  77. 
reveieud,  iv.  i.  31. 
rood,  iii.  2.  77. 
round,  iv.  I.  60. 
royal,  iv.  4.  539. 
royalty,  v.  5-  4- 
runaways,  v.  3.  316. 

sanctuary,  ii.  4.  66. 

scathe,  i.  3.  317. 

scrivener,  iii.  6.  int. 

seniory,  iv.  4.  36. 

senseless-obstinate,  iii.   I.  44 

serves,  iv.  4,  195. 

set,  v.  3.  251. 

several,  iii.  2.  78;  v.  3.  93. 

shame  fast,  i.  4.   142. 

shrewd,  ii.  4.  35. 

sign,  iii.  5.  79;  iv.  4.  89. 

slander,  iii.  3.  13. 

slug,  iii.  I.  22. 

smooth,  i.  3.  48. 

smoothing,  i.  2.  169. 

so,  iv.  4.  210. 

solace,  ii.  3.  30. 

soothe,  i.  3.  298. 

sop,  i.  4.  162. 

sort,  ii.  2.  148;  3.  36;  v.  3.  J 

spent,  ii.  2.  115. 

spleen,  v.  3.  350. 

splintered,  ii.  2.  1 18. 

spoil,  iv.  4.  200. 

stall'd,  i.  3.  206. 

stamped,  i.  I.  16;  i.  3.  256. 

startled,  iii.  4.  87. 

state,  iii.  2.  83. 

statuas,  iii.  7.  25. 

staves,  v.  3.  65. 

stealing,  iii.  7.  168. 

steeled,  i.  i.  148. 


INDEX   OF   WORDS. 


199 


still,  i.  3.  222;  ii.  i.  137;  3.  41; 

iii.  2.  52;  iv.  4.  229. 
stout-resolved,  i.  3.  340. 
successively,  iii.  7.  135. 
sudden,  i.  3.  346;  iv.  2.  19. 
suspects,  i.  3.  89. 
swelling,  ii.  i.  51. 
swift,  i.  i.  15;  iv.  I.  49. 
sword,  iv.  4.  470. 

ta'en  the  sacrament,  iv.  5.  18. 

tall,  i.  4.  156. 

tear-falling,  iv.  2.  66. 

tell,  i.  4.  122;  v.  3.  276. 

telling,  iv.  4.  254. 

tendering,  i.  I.  44;  ii.  4.  72;  iv. 

4-  405- 

tetchy,  iv.  4.  1 68. 
that,  i.  2.  163. 
thin,  ii.  i.  117. 
this,  v.  3.  201. 
timeless,  i.  2.  117. 
to  =  as  to,  ii.  i.  20;  iii.  2.  27. 
touch,  iv.  2.  8. 
toys,  i.  I.  60. 
triumph,  iii.  4.  44. 
truth,  iii.  2.  94. 
type,  iv.  4.  244. 

unavoided,  i.  4.  27;    iv.  I.  56^ 

4-  '**7- 
unfelt  imagination,  i.  4.  80. 


ungoverned,  iv.  4.  392. 
unhappiness,  i.  2.  25. 
unity,  iv.  4.  379. 
unmeritable,  iii.  7.  155. 
unquiet,  ii.  4.  55. 
unrespective,  iv.  2.  29. 
untainted,  iii.  6.  9. 
unvalued,  i.  4.  27. 
used,  v.  3.  198. 

vain  flourish,  i.  3.  241. 
vantage,  iii.  7.  37;  v.  3.  15. 
vizard,  ii.  2.  28. 

ward,  v.  3.  254. 

warn,  i.  3.  39. 

wash,  v.  2.  9. 

watch,  v.  3.  63. 

watchful,  v.  3.  115. 

welkin,  v.  3.  341. 

while,  the,  ii.  3.  8;  iii.  6.  IO. 

white-livered,  iv.  4.  465. 

windows,  i.  2.  12. 

wit,  iii.  i.  50. 

with,  iv.  4.  394. 

withal  =  with,  iii.  7.  57- 

witness,  iii.  v.  70. 

witty,  iv.  2.  42. 

worship,  i.  I.  66. 

worshipful,  iii.  4.  41;  7-  13& 

worthy,  i.  2.  87. 

wrong-incensed,  ii.  i.  51.. 

. 


-,.»;. 

S»l  IP1 


INDEX  TO  THE  APPENDIX  ON    PROSODY. 

The  number  opposite  tack  rtferenee  gh'ts  tht  page  to  -U'hifh  to  turn; 
tht  number  following  within  parentheses  gira  the  line  oj  the  page. 


ACT 

I. 

Sc. 
V. 

Line 

187 

H^gt 
180 

(6). 

Sc. 

Line 

Page 

V. 

202 

181 

(33)- 

i. 

10 

181 

(22). 

V. 

209 

181 

07). 

i. 

43 

182 

(43). 

V. 

218 

182 

(24). 

i. 

4» 

185 

(39). 

V. 

248 

182 

(21). 

i. 

49 

182 

(8). 

V. 

250 

184 

(35). 

L 

i. 

55 
67 

187 
179 

(3<0. 
(18). 

ACT 

II. 

i. 

84 

182 

(8). 

i. 

75 

181 

(22). 

i. 

86 

180 

(2). 

i. 

'33 

184 

C4). 

i. 

92 

185 

(25). 

ii. 

24 

184 

(32). 

i. 

94 

184 

(10). 

ii. 

105 

ISO 

i'6). 

i. 

95 

182 

(8). 

ii. 

'23 

181 

(19). 

i. 

'03 

182 

(7)- 

iii. 

16 

•79 

(16). 

i. 

104 

180 

(3)- 

iii. 

46 

180 

(19)- 

i. 

105 

181 

(33)- 

iv. 

i 

185 

(39)- 

i. 

162,  163 

187 

(3D- 

iv. 

12 

181 

138). 

ii. 

50 

180 

(9)- 

iv. 

26 

182 

(8). 

ii. 

64 

1  80 

(10). 

iv. 

40 

'83 

(21). 

ii. 

76 

180 

(9)- 

iv. 

43 

179 

(6). 

ii. 

127 

180 

(8). 

iv. 

63 

'79 

(29). 

ii. 
ii. 

164 
i93-203 

178 
•83 

(8). 
(28). 

ACT 

III. 

ii. 

226 

183 

(6). 

i. 

37 

181 

(33). 

ii. 

235 

180 

(39) 

i. 

39 

184 

04)- 

ii. 

239 

182 

(24). 

i. 

7' 

181 

(23). 

ii. 

263,  264 

187 

<3». 

i. 

79 

180 

(9)- 

iii. 

i 

181 

(22). 

i. 

90 

182 

(28). 

iii. 

36 

180 

(41)- 

i. 

94 

187 

(36). 

iii. 

107 

180 

(6). 

i. 

110 

185 

(26). 

iii. 

"36,  137 

•83 

(17). 

i. 

114 

184 

(33)- 

iii. 

1  68 

181 

(18). 

i. 

'43 

182 

(28). 

iii. 

3°5 

181 

(22). 

i. 

'57 

'79 

05>. 

iii. 

3>3 

iSo 

ds). 

i. 

158 

184 

(34). 

iii. 

333 

•79 

(6). 

i. 

188 

185 

(16). 

iii. 

350 

182 

(II). 

i. 

191 

182 

(8). 

iv. 

59 

184 

(30). 

i. 

'95 

"79 

C9). 

iv. 

65 

184 

(3»- 

i. 

198 

181 

(23). 

iv. 

80 

186 

(20). 

ii. 

3 

'79 

('  7). 

iv. 

85 

180 

(42). 

ii. 

67 

'79 

(6). 

iv. 

165 

181 

(32). 

ii. 

76 

'79 

ds). 

INDEX  TO 

APPENDIX  ON 

PROSODY.     20 

Sc. 

Line 

Page 

Sc. 

Line 

Page 

ii. 

76 

181 

(28). 

iv. 

69 

179 

(6). 

ii. 

119,  120 

183 

(25). 

iv. 

75 

Ib6 

(21). 

iii. 

I 

182 

(28). 

iv. 

«36 

179 

(3)- 

iii. 

6 

185 

(36). 

iv. 

H7 

179 

(6). 

iii. 

7 

182 

(28). 

iv. 

170 

181 

(24). 

iii. 

17 

181 

(32). 

iv. 

i«3 

180 

(13)- 

iii. 

23 

182 

(28). 

iv. 

194,  195 

187 

(33). 

iii. 

24 

179 

(6). 

iv. 

217 

181 

(24). 

iv. 

32 

183 

(4). 

iv. 

263 

179 

(13)- 

iv. 

58 

180 

(19). 

iv. 

269 

180 

(40). 

iv. 

60 

182 

(33)- 

iv. 

408 

180 

(16). 

V. 

12,  13 

183 

(25). 

iv. 

428 

182 

(36). 

V. 

15 

183 

(30- 

iv. 

467 

179 

(3'). 

V. 

76 

181 

(24)- 

iv. 

485 

iSi 

(32). 

vi. 

9 

iSi 

(23). 

iv. 

506 

179 

(9). 

vii. 

3 

1  80 

(43)- 

iv. 

509 

180 

(20). 

vii. 

9 

181 

(24). 

V. 

10 

179 

(17). 

1  vii. 

21 

1  80 

(44). 

V. 

10 

iSi 

(32). 

vii. 

58 

179 

(15). 

vii. 

59 

183 

(3)- 

ACT 

V. 

-!• 

vii. 

\  vii- 

f   Til. 

v!l- 

VI  1. 

7° 

81 

"3 

224 
229 
240 

182 
1  80 
181 
181 
1  80 
179 

(33)- 
(18). 

(24)- 
(42). 

(10). 

(30).  ' 

i. 
iii. 
iii. 
iii. 
iii. 
iii. 

5 
7 
52.53 
68 
72 
75 

179 

181 
184 
181 
184 
179 

(4)- 
(32). 
(23)- 

(20). 

(7)- 
(25). 

ACT 

IV. 

iii. 

78 

179 

(22). 

iii. 

130 

185 

(5). 

i. 

7 

180 

(10). 

iii. 

140 

181 

(29). 

i. 

19 

181 

(39). 

iii. 

142 

179 

(6). 

i. 

34 

181 

(33). 

iii. 

148 

182 

(39)- 

i. 

55 

185 

(17). 

iii. 

149,  150 

187 

(33)- 

ii. 

2,3 

183 

(25). 

iii. 

165,  1  66 

187 

(33). 

ii. 

32 

182 

(21). 

iii. 

1  86 

183 

(9)- 

ii. 

36 

181 

(23). 

iii. 

187 

184 

(6). 

ii. 

45 

184 

(24). 

iii. 

209 

184 

(7)- 

ii. 

93 

179 

(«9). 

iii. 

214 

183 

(9). 

ii. 

98 

179 

(16). 

iii. 

221 

185 

(37)- 

ii. 

106 

179 

(10). 

iii. 

224 

182 

(5). 

ii. 

114 

183 

(7). 

iii. 

239 

1  80 

(44)- 

ii. 

1  20 

1  80 

(10). 

iii. 

245 

181 

(23)- 

iii. 

35 

182 

(35)- 

iii. 

28l 

183 

d3). 

iii. 

55 

iSi 

(24). 

iii. 

289 

181 

(32). 

iv. 

15,  16 

187 

(35). 

iii. 

298 

184 

(20). 

iv. 

20,  21 

187 

(35)- 

iii. 

299 

184 

(20). 

iv. 

24,25 

187 

(35)- 

V. 

9 

179 

(23). 

iv. 

27 

186 

(19).       v. 

ii 

180 

(II). 

GENERAL    INDEX. 


Abbott.  —  Shakespearian  Gram- 
mar, i.  3.  68,  212;  iii.  l.  68; 
iii.  1.  177;  iii.  4.  51;  iv.  4. 

292,  337,  354,  492. 

abstracts  used  in  plural,  iii.  7. 
40;  iv.  i.  25;  3.  8. 

adjective,  use  of,  i.  i.  15,  29; 
i.  2.  35;  i.  3.  29. 

adverb,  i.  I.  22;  iii.  4,  50. 

alliteration,  i.  I.  6,  8;  i.  4.  41 ; 
(double)  iv.  2.  37. 

anachronism,  iv.  4.  366.  ^ 

Anne,  i.  I.  153;  iv.  I.  66,  73. 

antithesis,  i.  4.  89,  172;  iii.  I.  85; 
iii.  7.  120;  ty.  4.  351. 

article,  use  of,  i.  2.  179. 

Baynard's  Castle,  iii.  5.  98. 

"  be",  force  of  prefix,  i.  3.  222. 

Bedford,  Duke  of,  ii.  321. 

bigamy,  iii.  7.  189. 

Bourchier,  Cardinal,  iii.  I.  32. 

Buckingham,  i.  3.  275;  ii.  I.  29, 
64. 

Burgundy,  i.  4.  10. 

"but",  use  of,  ii.  I.  33. 

Caesar,  references  to  in  Shake- 
speare, iii.  I.  84. 

Caesar's  ComnuittaHctt  iii.i.  86. 

"character",  use  of,  iii.  I.  83. 

characters,  confusion  of,  iii.  4. 80. 

Chertsey,  i.  ii.  29. 

chiasmus,  iii.  I.  85. 

Clarence,  i.  I.  50;  i.  4.  53;  ii.  I. 
79:  2.  51. 

Clarence's  children,  ii.  2.  62. 

clocks,  old,  iv.  2.  1 17. 

cockatrice,  superstition  regard- 
ing, i.  2.  150;  iv.  i.  55. 

compounds,  iii.  I.  44. 

connectives,  iii.  5.  63;  7.  157. 

construction,  confused,  i.  3.  68. 


contemporary  events  referred  to, 

1.  i.  i,  24,  62,  67,  68,  &c. 
Crosby  Place,  i.  2.  213. 
Delius,  i.  i.  132. 

"do",  omission  of,  i.  3.  25. 
double  negatives,  i.  3.  13,  90. 
doublets,  i.  2.  8. 
•ed,  syllabic  value  of,  i.  I.  6. 
Edward    IV.,    King,    i.  I.   137; 

ii.  2.  51;  ill  5.  75;  7.  5,  6;— 

his  tffi-ift,  i.  i.  2. 
Kdwaid,  Prince,  i.  I.  153,  154; 

2.  92,  241. 
ellipsis,  ii.  i.  37. 

epithet,  transferred,  v.  3.  III. 

equivocation,  i.  4.  240. 

French  forms  in  English,  iii.  I. 

164. 

ghosts,  i.  4.  54;  v.  3.  180. 
Gloucester,  Duke  of,  ii.  3.  21. 
Goldsmith's  7'rm-f//ert  reference 

to,  iv.  i.  59. 
graft,    from   older   "graff",   iii. 

7-  127 
grammar,  structure  explained,  i. 

3.  68,  162,  190,  282,  291,  354; 

4.  45,  273;  ii.  i.  134;  2.  76, 
104,   118;  4.   59;  iii     I.    159, 
177,   183;   2.  58.  92,   115;  4. 
66;  5.25,  35.  47,  55,  56,  92; 
7.   144,   150.   159;   iv.  2.  59; 
4.  34,  1 1 8,  1 88,  192,  234,  254, 
293»  369:  v.  2.  10;  3.  243,  268. 

Great  Seal,  ii.  4.  71. 

Grey.  I«ord,  i.  3.  256;  iv.  i.  141. 

Hall's    Chronicle,    reference   to, 

iii.  5.  76;  iv.  2.  108;  v.  I. 
Hamlet,  ii.  2.  69. 
Hastings,  ii.  I.  133;  iii.  I.  165; 

2.  62. 
Hawthorne,  i.  2.  55. 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


203 


"  neaven  ",  treated  as  plural,  i.  3. 

219;  v.  5.  21. 

"hell ",  treated  as  plural, iv.  4.  72. 
Henry  VI.,  King,  i.  2.  5. 
3  Henry  VI.,  i.  2.   157;  3.  174, 

183;  iii.  7.  183;  iv.  2.  98. 
historical  error,  v.  3.  324. 
Holinshed's  Chronicle,  reference 

to,  i.  i.  32,  39;  iii.  I.  46;  2. 

116;  4.  33,  61,  70;  5.  100;  7. 

189;  iv.  2.  23,51,  56,  108;  3. 

29,  37;  4-   52;  v-   i-  3.  3H, 

324- 

hyperbole,  ii.  2.  69. 
indirect  object,  ii.  2.  104. 
irony,  i.  2.  259;  3. 142;  v.  3.  132. 
irony,  tragic,  i.  I.  50;  2.  26;  ii. 

I.  43;    iii.  I.  HO;    2.  33,  43, 

55,  68,  122;  4.  13. 
iteration,  iv.  4.  40. 
Johnson,  iv.  4.  290. 
jussive  use  of  verb,  ii.  2.  141. 
Kins; John,  iv.  2.  15. 
King  Lear,  i.  3.  intro. 
language,  note  on,  ii.  3.  15. 
Ludlow,  ii.  i.  21. 
Macbeth,  ii.  4.  23;  iv.  2.  64;  3. 

51;  4.  24;  v.  3.  92. 
lalone,  v.  3.  68. 

inners,  foreign,  i.  3.  49. 

irriage  laws,  iii.  7.  189. 
larshall,  iii.  I.  83. 
Merchant  of  Venice,    i.  4.    149; 

iv.  4.  2. 

lercury,  winged,  ii.  I.  80. 
netaphor,  i.  i.  16,  in,  256,  325; 

ii.  2.  38,  51;  iii.  4.  27;  7.  49, 

162,  188;  iv.  3.  6,  51;  4.  1,68, 

77,  226,  232;  v.  3.  1 1 6. 
Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  iv. 

3-31- 

miracle  plays,  iii.  I.  82. 
"lore,  Sir  T.,  iii.  4.  33. 
notion,  verbof,  omitted,  iii.  2. 91. 
aurdered,    superstition    regard- 
ing, i.  2.  55. 
[urderers,  character  of,  i.  4.  8l. 

ative,  position  of,  i.  3.  25. 
jun  for  adjective,  i.  3.  291. 


|    oaths,  Richard's,  i.  I.  138. 
Othello,vt.  4.  157. 
owls,  superstition  regarding,  iv. 

4-  5°9- 
oxymoron,  i.  2.  153;  3.  163;  iv. 

4.  26. 

Paradise  Lost,  iv.  4.  52. 
parenthesis,  iii.  7.  210. 
participle,  (a)  use  of  pres.  in  /  for 

past  part.,  i.  4. 192;  iii.  7.  127, 

1 795  v-  5-  3-     (<*)  Use  of  form 

in  ing  for  en,  ii.  I.  129;  iii.  i. 

107. 
pathos,    how    heightened,    i.    3. 

183;  ii.  2.  intro.;  iv.  3.  intro. 
persons,  confusion  of,  iii.  4.  80. 
Plantagenet,  origin  of  name,  i.  2. 

142. 
plural,  use  of,  iii.  7-  40;  iv.  i. 

25;  iv.  3.  8. 

plural  for  singular,  i.  4.  1 59. 
Pomfret  Castle,  iii.  I.  183. 
possessive,  i.  3.  75;  objective,  i.  4. 

229;   The,  as,  iv.  2.  27. 
preposition,    uses   of,    i.    I.    58; 

ii.  2.  95;  iii.  I.  9,  109;  5.  32; 

iv.  i.  3. 
pronoun,  repetition  of,  i.  3.  219; 

iii.  2.   115;  iv.  3.  IO; — super- 
fluous,  i.   3.   212;    iii.    7.   89, 

235;  they  for  them,  ii.  2.  76; 

thmt  and  yon,  use  of,  i.  2.  68; 

4.  175;  omission  of,  ii.  2.  104; 

v.  3.  204. 
prose  and  blank  verse,  use  of, 

i.  4.  1 66. 

proverbial  expressions,  ii.  3.  4. 
punctuation,  iv.  2.  15. 
puns  or  word-play,  i.  I.  115;  2. 

15,   102;  ii.  4.  20;  iii.  3.  82, 

100,   139,  251;    4.  230,  240; 

iii.  I.  118;  2.  43;   iv.   4.   172, 

177.  255,  361. 
Queen  Elizabeth,  i.   i.  81,  82; 

character,  iv.  4.  426. 
Queen  Margaret,  i.  3.  no,  197. 
redundancy,  v.  3.  268. 
regicides,    mode    of    punishing, 

iv.  i.  59. 


204 


KING    RICHARD   THK   TFIIKI). 


rhyme,  use  <»f,  i.  4.  172. 
Richard,   injaiuy  of,  ii.  4.  28; — 

device,  i.  3.  228; — (oguisatue, 

iii.   2.   1 1  ;  v.  2.   7  ;  deformity, 

i.   I.  14. 

Richard  1 1.,  iv.  4.  2. 
Richmond,  iv.  1.43,  50;  4.  477, 

523,   525»  —  Staituyt  relation 

to,  i.  3.  2O;   v.  2.  5. 
Richmond,  Countess  of,  i.  3.  20. 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  iv.  4.  232. 
Rutland,  death  of,  i.  3.  183. 
St.  Albans,  second  battle  of,  i.  3. 

130. 

salutations  ii.  3.  6. 
Scotland,  wars  in,  iii.  7.  15. 
Scott,  i.  2.  55. 
Scripture,  relerences  to,  i.  3.  81 ; 

ii.  I.  122  ;    3.  II  ;    iii.  4.  47; 

7.  89;  iv.  4.  255. 
Shelley,  Mask  oj  Anarchy,  i.  3. 

354- 
Shore,  Jane,  i.  I.  73,  82;  iii.  I. 

185. 

"Sir",  use  of,  iii.  2.  III. 
slaves,  branding  of,  i.  3.  229. 
Sonnet,  iii.  I.  87. 


Mage,    anangement    in    Shake- 
scare's  time,  v.  3.  intro. 

stage  ilfvice,  v.  3.  211. 

Steevens,   i.   3.   252;    iv.    i.  59 
4.  90,  226. 

'.stichonuillua',  i.2.  68;  iv.  4.  343. 

Stony  Stratford,  ii.  4.  2. 

subject,  omission  of,  iii.  4.  36. 

superstition  regarding  owls,  iv. 
4.  509. 

text,   notes  on,   i.  I.  I ;    3.  155, 

275;  4-  9:  '"•  7-  2|9;  1V  '•  7°- 
time,  indications  of,  iii.  2.  91. 
"to",  ii.  I.  1 2O. 
toad,  belief  regarding,  i.  2.  2<X 
touchstone,  iv.  2.  8. 
Tower,  the,  iii.  I.  69. 
verb  of  motion,  omission  of,  iii. 

2.91. 

Vice  in  the  Moralities,  iii.  I.  82. 
Warburton,  i.  3.  229;  4.  149. 
Warwick,  Karl  of,  i.  I.  153. 
\Vhite-Friars,  i.  2.  227. 
Wright,   i.  3.  64;   4.   149,  247, 

ii.  4.  51;  iii.  I.  150. 
York,  age  of  Duchess  of,  iv.  I. 

96. 


THE    ARDEN    SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HEBFORD,  LiTT.D.,  University  of  Manchester 

THE  FIRST  PART 
OF 

HENRYTHE  FOURTH 


EDITED    BY 

FREDERIC   W.   MOORMAN 

LECTURER   ON    ENGLISH    LITERATURE   IN 
YORKSHIRE   COLLEGE,    LEEDS 

REVISED    BY 

MORRIS  PALMER  TILLEY 

PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH   IN   THE 
UNIVERSITY   OF   MICHIGAN 


D.    C.    HEATH    AND    COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO 

ATLANTA  SAN   FRANCISCO  DALLAS 

LONDON 


COPYRIGHT    1917, 

Bv  D.  C.  HKATII  AMI*  COMPANY 

2E9 


PRIVTFD   IN   U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
V 


INTRODUCTION 

DRAMATIS  PERSONS xxx 

THE  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  1 

NOTES    .     .     .     .     .     .     .  ••.     <• 113 

APPENDIX  —  METRE 199 

GLOSSARY 207 

INDEX  OF  WORDS 215 

GENERAL  INDEX  217 


INTRODUCTION 

1.    LITERARY  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY 

,  .     ,.       M.| 

THE  literary  history  of  the  First  Part  of  Henry  IV  is  a  history 
success.  The  first  (Quarto)  edition  of  the  play  appeared  in 
598,  with  the  following  title :  The  |  History  of  |  Henry  the  Fourth ;  | 
nth  the  battell  at  Shrewsburie,  |  betweene  the  King  and  Lord  \ 
lenry  Percy,  surnamed  |  Henrie  Hotspur  of  |  the  North.  |  With  the 
humorous  conceits  of  Sir  \  John  Falstalffe.  |  At  London.  |  Printed 
by  P.  S.  for  Andrew  Wise.  .  .  .  1598.  As  the  title  indicates,  this 
;  was  only  the  First  Part  of  the  play;  the  Second  Part  issued  from 
the  house  of  the  same  publisher  two  years  later.  In  1599  a  second 
edition  of  the  First  Part  of  Henry  IV  appeared,  which,  according 
'  to  the  title-page,  had  been  "newly  corrected  by  William  Shake- 
speare." Three  more  Quarto  editions  were  produced  before  the 
author's  death  (dated  1604,  1608,  1613)  —  a  sufficient  indication 
of  the  popularity  of  the  play  with  the  reading  public  of  Shakespeare's 
time.  Of  his  other  plays  only  Richard  III  reached  a  fifth  edition 
by  1616. 

The  success  of  the  play,  which  was  largely  due  to  the  Falstaff 
scenes,  is  revealed  in  other  ways.  If  tradition  tell  true,  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor  owes  its  creation  to  Queen  Elizabeth's  delight  in 
Falstaff,  and  to  her  desire  to  see  him  in  love.  There  is,  further,  a 
reference  to  Falstaff  in  the  speech  of  Macilente  which  brings  to  a 
conclusion  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  1599  : 

"  Marry,   I  will  not  .  .  .  beg  a  plaudite  for  God's  sake ;  but 

!<if  you,  out  of  the  bounty  of  your  good-liking  will  bestow  it,  why, 

you  may  in  time  make  lean  Macilente  as  fat  as  Sir  John  Falstaff." 


kni£ 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

among  these  is  seen  Sir  John  Falstaff  accepting  a  cup  of  sack  from 
the  hands  of  Dame  Quickly.  But  this  popularity  was  not  won 
without  the  intrusion  of  a  note  of  dissent.  In  the  original  version 
of  the  play,  as  delivered  by  the  author  to  the  actors,  Falstaff  bore 
the  name  of  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  the  famous  Lollard  who  suffered 
martyrdom  under  Henry  V.  The  character  of  Oldcastle  had  after 
his  death  been  travestied  by  the  orthodox  party  in  the  church  until, 
in  spite  of  subsequent  Protestant  opposition,  he  assumed  the  form 
of  a  roysterer  and  profligate,  the  corrupter  of  Henry  V  during  his 
youth.  He  appears  in  this  light  in  the  old  play,  The  Famous  1'icto- 
riei  of  Henry  V,  whence  Shakespeare  drew  several  hints  for  his  own 
work,  among  others  the  name  and  a  faint  outline  of  the  character 
of  the  Lollard  knight.  The  fact  that  the  Elizabetlian  public 
readily  identified  Shakespeare's  knight  with  the  Lollard  martyr 
aroused  the  resentment  of  Henry  Brooke,  Lord  Cobham,  who 
claimed  descent  from  Oldcastle.  By  making  his  grievances  known 
at  court,  he  forced  Shakespeare  to  substitute  the  name  of  Falstaff 
for  that  of  Oldcastle  in  the  first  Quarto  editions  of  both  parts.  To 
destroy  effectually  the  idea  that  Falstaff  was  to  be  identified  with 
the  Lollard  knight,  Shakespeare  makes  a  very  definite  statement 
in  the  Epilogue  to  2  Henry  IV: 

"If  you  be  not  too  much  cloyed  with  fat  moat,  our  humble 
author  will  continue  the  story,  with  Sir  John  in  it  ...  where 
for  anything  I  know  Falstaff  shall  die  of  a  sweat,  unless  already 
a*  be  killed  with  your  hard  opinions ;  for  Oldcastle  died  a  martyr, 
and  this  is  not  the  man." 

Yet  even  this  did  not  satisfy  those  who  had  taken  offence  at 
the  name  of  Oldcastle.  Attention  was  drawn  to  the  real  char 
acter  of  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  and  two  plays,  entitled  respectively 
The  First  Part  of  the  Life  and  Death  of  Sir  John  Oldrantle,  and  Tht 
Second  Part  nf  Sir  John  OUlcaxlle  with  hit  Martyrdom,  were  pub- 
lished in  1600.  According  to  Henslowe,  both  play-  were  the  joint 
work  of  Munday,  Wilson,  Drayton,  and  Hathaway.  How  far 
these  plays  were  intended  to  be  an  antidote  to  Shakespeare*! 
Henry  IV  may  be  judged  from  the  following  verses  of  the  Prologue: 

"It  is  no  pampered  glutton  we  present, 
Nor  aged  counsellor  to  youthful  sin. 
But  one  whose  virtue  shone  above  the  rest." 

Traces  of  the  earlier  name  of  Falstaff  are  to  be  found  in  both  parta 
of  Henry  IV,  over  and  above  the  definite  statement  (already  quoted)  i 


INTRODUCTION 


In  substituting  the  name  Falstaff  for  that  of  Oldcastle,  Shakespeare 
probably  had  in  mind  the  historic  Sir  John  Fastolfe,  a  gentleman 
of  Norfolk,  a  distinguished  soldier  in  the  French  wars  of  Henry  V, 
and  at  one  time  owner  of  the  Boar's  Head  Tavern,  Eastcheap.  He 
is  an  actual  character  in  1  Henry  VI,  and  is  banished  by  the  king 
on  the  charge  of  Talbot,  for  cowardly  flight  at  the  battle  of  Patay. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  Fastolfe  was  no  more  a  coward  than  Oldcastle 
was  a  profligate,  and  Holinshed  himself  makes  it  clear  that  the 
charge  of  cowardice  was  subsequently  withdrawn,  and  Fastolfe 
restored  to  his  former  place  of  honor.  Accordingly  Shakespeare's 
use  of  the  name  Falstaff  met  with  censure  just  as  that  of  Oldcastle 
had  done,  and  as  late  as  1662,  Fuller  in  his  Worthies  calls  attention 
to  the  injustice  done  by  the  dramatist  to  the  memory  of  a  valiant 
man: 

"The  stage  hath  been  overbold  with  a  great  warrior's  memory, 
making  him  a  thrasonical  puff,  and  emblem  of  mock-valour.  .  .  . 
Now  as  I  am  glad  that  Sir  John  Oldcastle  is  put  out,  so  I  am  sorry 
that  Sir  John  Fastolfe  is  put  in,  to  relieve  his  memory  in  this  base 
service,  to  be  the  anvil  for  every  dull  wit  to  strike  upon.  Nor  is 
our  comedian  excusable,  by  some  alteration  of  his  name  writing 
him  Sir  John  Falstafe ;  .  .  .  few  do  heed  the  inconsiderable  differ- 
ence of  spelling  of  their  .name." 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

a  purely  fictitious  name  for  his  knight  when  he  found  that  objec- 
tions  were  raised  to  the  name  of  Oldcastle.  The  reason  for  his 
unwillingness  to  do  this  may  perhaps  be  found  in  the  fact  that, 
as  he  was  writing  a  historical  play,  he  wished  all  the  characters 
that  were  to  take  part  in  the  serious  plot  —  and  Falstaff,  it 
must  be  remembered,  is  one  of  these  —  to  have  some  historic 
standing. 

There  is  not  much  to  say  with  regard  to  the  relation  of  the  various 
Quarto  editions  of  the  play  to  one  another,  and  of  their  relation  to 
the  Folio  editions  of  16*3  and  163*.  The  second,  third,  fourth,  and 
fifth  editions  all  profess  on  their  title-pages  to  be  "newly  corrected 
by  William  Shakespeare,"  but  are,  on  the  whole,  inferior  to  Q  1. 
The  Cambridge  editors  state  that  the  First  Folio  "seems  to  have 
been  printed  from  a  partially  corrected  copy  of  the  Fifth  Quarto," 
and  add  that  "in  many  places  the  readings  coincide  with  those  of 
the  earlier  Quartos,  which  were  probably  consulted  by  the  cor- 
rector." The  present  edition  follows  in  the  main  the  text  of  the 
Cambridge  editors;  on  the  very  few  occasions  on  which  another 
reading  has  been  taken,  an  indication  to  that  effect  is  given  in  the 
Notes. 

2.     DATE   OF  COMPOSITION 

It  is  generally  agreed  that  the  composition  of  /  Henry  IV  falls 
within  the  years  1596-1597.  It  must  have  been  finished  by  Febru- 
ary, 1598,  for  on  the  25th  of  that  month  it  was  entered  on  the 
Stationers'  Register  under  the  title  of  "The  Historye  of  Henry  the 
iiiith,"  while  the  fact  that  Oldcastle  was  the  name  originally  borne 
by  Falstaff  in  the  Second  Part  as  well  as  in  the  First  Part  indicates 
that  this  Second  Part  must  have  been  written  before  the  appear- 
ance of  the  first  Quarto  edition  of  the  First  Part  (1598),  in  which 
the  knight  appears  under  the  name  of  Falstaff.  The  close  con- 
nection between  the  two  Parts  suggests  that  they  were  written  in 
direct  succession,  while  slight  allusions  in  /  Henry  IV  to  events 
which  happened  in  the  year  1596  give  us  a  time  limitation  in  the 
other  direction.  The  evidence  furnished  by  metrical  tests  also 
points  to  the  years  1596-1597  as  the  date  of  composition. 

The  play  was  well  received  on  the  Elizabethan  stage.  Appar- 
ently it  was  also  popular  with  Elizabeth's  successor:  it  was  acted 
before  James  in  1613  under  the  title  of  "Hotspur."1  Its  popu- 
larity was  maintained  after  the  Restoration.  Pepys  saw  it  acted 

1  Fleay :  Chronicle  of  the  English  Drama. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

London  no  less  than  five  times  between  1660  and  1668.  We 
id  in  his  Diary,  under  entry  of  December  31,  1660:  "At  the 
office  all  the  morning,  and  after  that  home,  and  not  staying  to 
dine,  I  went  out,  and  in  Paul's  Churchyard  I  bought  the  play  of 
Henry  the  Fourth,  and  so  went  to  the  new  theatre  and  saw  it  acted ; 
but  my  expectation  being  too  great,  it  did  not  please  me,  as  other- 
wise I  believe  it  would ;  and  my  having  a  book  I  believe  did  spoil 
it  a  little."  At  a  later  representation  he  speaks  of  it  as  "a  good 
play."  The  famous  Restoration  actor  Betterton  reckoned  1  Henry 
IV  as  one  of  his  greatest  successes :  up  to  the  year  1700  he  played 
the  part  of  Hotspur,  and  then,  growing  old,  fell  back  upon  that  of 
Falstaff.  Genest,  in  his  Account  of  the  English  Stage,  mentions 
twenty-one  performances  of  the  play  at  London  theatres  between 
1700  and  1826.  Booth,  Mills,  and  Quin  all  played  the  part  of 
Falstaff  with  distinction.  In  1803  the  play  was  revised  by  Kemble 
and  performed  by  his  company  at  the  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 

3.    THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PLOT 

The  sources  of  1  Henry  IV,  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  determine 
them,  are:  (1)  Holinshed's  Chronicles  of  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland,  published  first  of  all  in  1577,  and  in  a  second  and  enlarged 
edition  in  1587;  it  was  this  second  edition  which  Shakespeare 
used ;  (2)  a  play  by  an  unknown  hand  entitled  The  Famous  Victories 
of  Henry  V,  first  published  in  1598,  but  acted  at  least  ten  years 
before.  The  former  work  supplied  Shakespeare  with  most  of  his 
historical  material ;  his  exact  debt  to  The  Famous  Victories  was 
slight,  and  is  to  be  detected,  as  far  at  least  as  1  Henry  IV  is  con- 
cerned, chiefly  in  the  comic  scenes. 

Shakespeare's  allegiance  to  Holinshed  was  of  a  different  char- 
acter from  that  which  bound  him  to  Plutarch.  Whereas  in  his 
borrowings  from  the  Greek  historian  his  plan  was  to  keep  as  closely 
to  his  authority  as  the  conditions  of  a  drama  would  allow,  in  the 
case  of  Holinshed  he  usually  allowed  himself  much  greater  freedom. 
Passages  may  be  found  in  such  a  play  as  Julius  Ccesar  which  read 
like  poetical  paraphrases  of  Plutarch's  noble  prose;  but  only  very 
rarely  is  there  such  a  correspondence  between  the  English  historical 
plays  and  the  pages  of  Holinshed.  Sometimes,  indeed,  Shakespeare 
finds  a  picturesque  phrase  or  word  in  Holinshed,  and  embodies  it 
in  his  plays;  less  frequently  he  gives  a  free  rendering  of  some  of 
Holinshed's  more  eloquent  passages.  Thus  we  read  in  Holinshed : 
"Thus  were  father  and  son  reconciled,  betwixt  whom  the  said  pick- 


x  INTRODUCTION 

thank*  had  sown  division  " ;  nnrl  in  /  Henry  IV  (iii.  4)  the  Prince, 
charged  liy  his  father  with  disgraceful  e-onduct,  refutes  the 

"many  lules  devised, 

Which  oft.  the  ear  of  greatness  need*  must  hear. 
By  smiling  jnck-thnnl-H  and  base  newsmongers." 

In  his  rendering  of  Hotspur's  speech  to  his  men  before  the  battle 
of  Shrewsbury,  Holinshed  rises  to  noble  though  irregular  eloquence : 
"Foorthwith  the  lord  Persic  (as  a  cupteine  of  high  courage)  began 
to  exhort  the  capteines  and  souldiers  to  prepare  themselves  to 
battell,  sith  the  matter  was  growen  to  that  point,  tliat  by  no  meanes 
it  could  be  avoided,  so  that  (said  he)  this  daie  shall  either  bring  us 
all  to  advancement  and  honor,  or  else  it  shall  chance  us  to  be  over- 
come, shall  deliver  us  from  the  kings  spitefull  malice  and  disdaine: 
for  plaieng  the  men  (as  we  ought  to  doo)  better  it  is  to  die  in  battell 
for  the  commonwealths  cause,  than  through  cowardlike  feare  to 
prolong  life,  which  after  shall  be  taken  from  us,  by  sentence  of  the 
enimie." 

An  echo  of  these  thoughts  is  distinctly  heard  in  the  words  that 
Shakespeare  gives  to  Hotspur  on  the  same  occasion : 

"O  gentlemen,  the  time  of  life  is  short! 
To  spend  that  shortness  Ijasely  were  too  long, 
If  life  did  ride  upon  a  dial's  point, 
Still  ending  at  the  arrival  of  au  hour. 
An  if  we  live,  we  live  to  tread  on  kings ; 
If  die,  brave  death,  when  princes  die  with  us!" 

(v.  2.  82-87.) 

In  adapting  Holinshed's  story  to  the  requirements  of  a  drama, 
Shakespeare  made  alterations,  omissions,  and  additions,  yet  he 
did  not  depart  very  widely  from  the  main  drift  of  the  narrative. 
Most  of  these  changes  will  easily  be  noticed  when  the  quotations 
from  Holinshed,  found  in  the  Notes,  are  read ;  but  it  may  prove 
serviceable  to  summarize  them  a  little  at  this  point.  Putting  aside 
the  comic  scenes  and  the  character  of  Falstaff,  of  which  there  is  no 
suggestion  in  Holinshed,  we  may  note  the  following  points  of 
difference : 

(1)  Shakespeare  has  introduced  the  following  characters,  of 
whom  there  is  no  mention  in  Holinshed's  account  of  the  first  part 
of  the  Percy  rebellion :  Prince  John  of  Iwincaster,  I^ady  Percy, 
and  Lady  Mortimer.  Prince  John  is  introduced  probably  in  order 
to  serve  as  a  foil  to  the  Prince  of  Wales;  we  hear  his  voice  only 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

vhen  he  is  in  his  brother's  company.  Lady  Percy  and  Lady  Morti- 
mer, on  the  other  hand,  are  evidently  introduced  with  the  purpose 
of  diversifying  the  characterization  by  the  inclusion  of  women. 
.  (2)  Shakespeare's  Henry  IV  is  less  valiant,  and  his  Prince  of 
Wales  more  valiant,  than  Holinshed's  on  the  occasion  of  the  battle 
of  Shrewsbury.  Shakespeare  departs  from  Holinshed  in  represent- 
ing the  Prince  as  the  rescuer  of  his  father  and  the  victor  over  Hot- 
spur. (See  quotation  from  Holinshed  prefixed  to  notes  on  v.  3.) 

(3)  Shakespeare   has   changed   considerably    the   ages   of   King 
Henry  and  Hotspur.     He  represents  the  King  as  an  old  man  (see 
v.  i.  13,  "To  crush  our  old  limbs  in  uz.gencle  steel"),  but  he  was 
only  thirty-six  at  the  time  of  the  b  ittle  of  Shrewsbury.     Hotspur, 
who  was  in  reality  slightly  older  than  the  King,  is  made  of  exactly 
the  same  age  as  Prince  Henry.     The  reason  for  these  changes  is 
to  be  sought  in  Shakespeare's  determination  to  represent  Hotspur 
and  the  Prince  as  rivals  at  every  point,  and  contending  with  each 
other  in  the  first  flush  of  manhood. 

The  above  points  indicate  changes  in  respect  to  characteriza- 
tion ;  the  following  bear  mainly  upon  plot-structure. 

(4)  Shakespeare  makes  no  use  of  Holinshed's  statement  that 
the  Percies,  when  raising  the  revolt,  circulated  the  report  that 
Richard  II  was  still  alive. 

(5)  There  is  no  suggestion  in  Holinshed  of  the  contents  of  Act  ii, 
scene  3,  while  in  the  case  of  other  scenes  Shakespeare  has  intro- 

jduced  many  new  circumstances  (compare  iii.  1  with  the  quotation 
from  Holinshed  prefixed  to  the  notes  on  that  scene). 

(6)  Shakespeare  has  removed  the  reconciliation  scene  between 
the  King  and  Prince  Henry  (iii.  2)  from  its  true  position  in  Holins- 
hed, and  has  introduced  it  at  a  much  earlier  period. 

(7)  Shakespeare  represents  Glendower  and  his  Welsh  irregulars 
as  being  absent  from  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury ;  Holinshed,  though 
he  does  not  mention  Glendower  as  a  sharer  in  the  fight,  says :     "  The 
Welshmen  also  which  before  had  laine  lurking  in  the  woods,  moun- 
teines,  and  marishes,  hearing  of  this  battell  toward,  came  to  the 
aid  of  the  Persies,  and  refreshed  the  wearied  people  with  new  suc- 
cours." 

Before  considering  Shakespeare's  second  source  —  The  Famovn 
Victories  of  Henry  V  —  the  reader's  attention  is  drawn  to  the  fourth 
book  of  Daniel's  History  of  the  Civil  Wars  as  a  possible  supplement- 
ary source  to  Holinshed  for  the  historic  scenes  of  Shakespeare's 
play.  Daniel  published  the  first  four  books  of  his  historical  poem 
in  1595,  and  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  Shakespeare  was  un- 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

acquainted  with  so  important  a  work ;  whether  he  derived  any 
id>>a.i  from  it  remains  to  be  seen.  In  the  fourth  book  of  his  History 
of  the  CirU  Wars  Daniel  covers  practically  the  same  ground  as 
Shakespeare  in  his  two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  His  authority  is  ap- 
parently Holinshcd,  but  he  differs  from  him  in  several  particulars, 
and  these  points  of  difference  lie  very  close  to  those  in  which  Shake- 
speare is  at  variance  with  the  chronicler.  In  the  first  place,  he 
represents  Hotspur  as  a  young  man,  and  as  engaging  in  combat 
with  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury : 

"There  shall  young  Hotspur,  with  a  fury  led, 
Meets  with  thy  forward  son,  as  fierce  as  he : 
There  warlike  Worster,  long  experienced 
In  forraine  arms,  shall  come  t'  incounter  thee. 
There  Dowglas,  to  thy  Stafford,  shall  make  head ; 
There  Vernon,  for  thy  valiant  Blunt .  shall  be. 
There  shalt  thou  find  a  doubtfull  bloody  day, 
Though  sickenesse  keep  Northumberland  away." 

(Daniel's  Civil  Wars,  ed.  Grosart,  iv.  34.) 

In  the  actual  account  of  the  battle  Daniel  tells  of  the  bravery  of 
the  Prince,  but  does  not  say  that  Hotspur  fell  by  his  hand. 

Second,  Daniel  departs  from  Holinshed,  but  is  at  one  with  Shake- 
speare, in  making  the  Prince  rescue  his  father  from  death  at  the 
hands  of  Douglas : 

"Hadst  thou  not  there  lent  present  speedy  ayd 
To  thy  indangered  father,  nerely  tyrde, 
Whom  fierce  incountring  Dowglas  overlaid 
That  day  had  there  his  troublous  life  expirde." 

(Ibid.  iv.  49.) 

(Holinshed's  account  of  the  battle  will  be  found  in  the  quotation 
prefixed  to  the  notes  on  v.  3.) 

Third,  whereas  Holinshed  represents  the  Percies  as  receiving 
assistance  from  the  Welsh  in  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  Daniel 
agrees  with  Shakespeare  —  and  with  historic  truth  —  in  declaring 
that  they  were  not  present  on  that  occasion : 

"The  joining  with  the  Welsh  (they  had  decreed) 
Stopt  hereby  part ;  which  made  their  cause  the  worse." 

(Ibid.  iv.  36.) 

Lastly,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  Daniel  represents  the  troubles 
that  encompassed  Henry  IV  throughout  his  reign  as  a  righteous 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

Jemesis  falling  upon  him,  because  of  the  "indirect  crook'd  ways" 
by  which  he  procured  the  crown.  Referring  to  Northumberland's 
absence  from  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  he  says: 

"Who  yet  reserv'd  (though,  after,  quit  for  this) 
Another  tempest  on  thy  head  to  rayse ; 
As  if,  still-,  wrong-revenging  Nemesis 
Did  meane  C  afflict  all  thy  continuall  days." 

(Ibid.  iv.  35.) 

Every  reader  of  the  tv/o  parts  of  Henry  IV  will  be  aware  that 
this  is  precisely  the  view  taken  by  Shakespeare  (see  1  Henry  IV, 
iii.  2.  4-7,  and  2  Henry  IV,  iv.  5.  178-200). 

It  is  of  course  possible  —  but  in  the  present  editor's  opinion  un- 
likely —  that  these  points  of  agreement  between  Shakespeare  and 
Daniel  as  against  Holinshed  are  purely  accidental,  and  that  the 
two  poets,  in  shaping  a  historical  play  and  a  historical  poem 
respectively,  made  these  changes  independently,  and  with  the 
same  purposes  in  view.  But  inasmuch  as  it  is  unlikely  that  Shake- 
speare was  unacquainted  with  Daniel's  poem,  it  is  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  he  had  that  poem  in  mind  when  he  departed  from 
Holinshed  in  his  account  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury. 

The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V  is  a  short  play,  chiefly  in  prose, 

}  to  which  Shakespeare  owed  certain  incidents  of  1  Henry  IV,  2  Henry 

,  IV,  and  Henry  V.  We  have  evidence  of  the  popularity  of  this 
play  in  Elizabethan  times,  yet  its  intrinsic  worth  is  slight.  It  has 

.a  certain  rollicking  movement  which  no  doubt  appealed  to  the 
Elizabethan  playgoer,  but  of  true  wit  or  humor  there  is  scarcely 
anything.  Yet,  inasmuch  as  it  was  from  this  play  that  Shake- 
speare drew  his  idea  of  Prince  Henry's  comradeship  with  Falstaff 
and  his  satellites,  it  claims  some  notice  here.  Among  the  char- 
acters of  the  play  are  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  Ned,1  Tom,  and  Gadshill, 
while  the  incidents  include  the  robbery  by  the  prince  and  his  con- 
federates of  the  king's  "receivers,"  and  their  retirement  after  the 
robbery  to  a  tavern  in  Eastcheap,  where  their  riotous  mirth  leads 
to  a  quarrel  and  the  interposition  of  the  sheriff  and  mayor  of  London, 
who  afterwards  make  complaint  to  the  king.  I^,ter  in  the  play 
there  is  a  scene  of  reconciliation  between  the  prince  and  his  father, 

.  which  faintly  suggests  the  circumstances  of  Act  iii,  scene  2  of 
1  Henry  IV.  Finally,  the  idea  of  the  mock  representation  on  the 
part  of  Falstaff  and  Prince  Hal  of  an  interview  between  the  prince 

1  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  Poina'  name  is  Edward. 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

and  his  father  (ii.  4)  may  liave  been  suggested  by  the  rehearsing 
on  the  part  of  Derick  and  John  Cobler  in  The  Famous  Victoriet  of 
the  scene  between  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Ix>rd  Chief  Justice. 
(See  quotation  from  The  Famous  Victories  given  in  the  notes  on 
ii.  4.) 

But  when  the  most  Is  made  of  these  point*  of  resemblance,  we 
cannot  fail  to  recognize  the  illimitable  gulf  which  separates  the  two 
plays.  The  comic  scenes  of  the  earlier  work  are  mere  horseplay, 
the  wit  consists  in  the  bandying  al>out  of  siu-h  oaths  as  "sowndes" 
and  "Gogs  wounds" ;  while  in  order  to  realize  to  the  full  the  tran- 
scendent greatness  of  Shakesj>eare's  characterization,  we  liave  only 
to  compare  Shakespeare's  Falstaff  with  the  Sir  John  Oldcastle 
(familiarly  known  as  "Jockey")  of  The  Famous  Victories. 

4.    PLOT  AND  GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS 

An  interval  of  three  or  four  years  —  1593  to  1596  or  1597  —  prob- 
ably separates  /  Henry  IV  from  its  nearest  predecessor  in  the  field 
of  the  history  play  —  Richard  II.  During  those  years  Shake- 
speare's dramatic  powers  had  developed  rapidly,  he  had  freed 
himself  from  his  dependence  on  Marlowe,  and  had  established  his 
position  as  an  independent  playwright.  Comedy  in  its  various 
forms  had  been  his  chief  concern  since  he  brought  his  first  series  of 
nistorical  plays  to  an  end  with  Richard  III  and  Richard  II,  and  to 
these  years  belong  such  comedies  as  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  A 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  and  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.  Re- 
turning to  the  history  play  in  1596-1597,  he  produced  in  rapid  suc- 
cession 1  Henry  IV,  2  Henry  IV,  and  Henry  V ;  and  then,  except 
for  his  share  in  Henry  VIII  at  the  end  of  his  dramatic  career,  be 
relinquished  this  form  of  drama  entirely. 

The  two  plays  of  Henry  IV,  together  with  Henry  V,  form  a  trilogy 
in  which  the  dominating  character  is  Henry  V.  Moreover,  in 
spite  of  the  interval  of  time  that  separates  1  Henry  IV  from  Richard 
II,  there  is  a  close  connection  of  historic  interest  between  them. 
The  latter  play  abounds  in  references  to  incidents  recorded  in  the 
earlier  play,  and  the  first  scene  of  /  Henry  IV  is  as  much  a  continua- 
tion of  the  last  scenes  of  Richard  II  as  the  first  scenes  of  2  Henry  IV 
are  of  its  immediate  forerunner.  It  is  therefore  possible  to  group 
the  four  plays  together  and  regard  them  as  a  historic  tetralogy, 
which  traces  the  fortunes  of  the  House  of  Lancaster  from  nadir  to 
zenith  —  from  the  banishment  of  Bolingbroke  and  the  death  of 
John  of  Gaunt  to  the  triumph  of  Agincourt. 


INTRODUCTION 


Th 

res 


I1  King  John,  the  probable  date  of  which  is  1595,  stands  in  most  of  these 
pects  midway  between  the  earlier  histories  and  the  later  Lancastrian  trilogy. 
*  In  /  Henry  IV  there  are  1464  lines  of  prose  out  of  a  total  of  3170  lines; 
«  Henry  IV,  1860  out  of  3446 ;  in  Henry  V,  1531  out  of  3379. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

hut  neither  is  .-imply  embedded  in  the  other.  Prince  Henry,  and 
to  a  li-—  extent  Falstaff  himself,  have  part  in  the  serious  as  well  M 
in  the  comic  scenes;  while  toward  the  close  of  the  play  the  comic 
episodes  arc  not  allotted  to  detached  and  independent  .scenes,  but 
are  introduced  into  the  historical  narrative,  so  that  we  pass  without 
a  pause  from  the  heroic^  tragedy  of  Hotspur's  death  to  Falstaff  • 
humorous  soliloquy  on  counterfeits. 

There  is  another  and  more  subtle  connection  between  the  serious 
and  comic  scenes.  Hotspur,  and  to  a  less  degree  many  of  the  other 
historic  characters,  give  to  the  play  something  of  a  heroic  temper. 
In  the  place  of  the  tragic  woof  of  such  a  play  as  Richard  II,  Shake- 
speare presents  us  with  an  epic  theme  to  which  the  quest  of  honor 
on  the  part  of  Hotspur  and  Prince  Henry  lends  unity  of  motive. 
Viewed  thus,  the  battlefield  of  Shrewsbury  is  a  tourney-ground  a* 
well,  and  is  regarded  in  this  light  by  the  two  chief  combatants; 
only  there  can  their  equally  strong,  though  differently  felt,  crav- 
ings for  honor  be  satisfied.  Honor,  with  its  oblique  shadow,  repu- 
tation, is  thus  the  leitmotiv  of  the  historic  plot.  To  all  this  the 
comic  scenes  and  the  person  of  Falstaff  offer  a  foil.  The  honor 
so  ostentatiously  pursued  by  Hotspur,  so  quietly  by  the  prince,  is 
in  Falstaff's  eyes  a  vain  shadow.  He  orders  liis  life  without  regard 
to  honor;  then,  when  the  preparations  for  the  battle  force  the 
consideration  of  honor  upon  his  mind,  he  devotes  to  it  his  famous 
catechism,  and  discovers  that  honor  is  but  a  word.  A  little  later, 
when  he  sees  Sir  Walter  Blunt  lying  dead  on  the  plain  of  Shrews- 
bury, honor  becomes  of  even  less  value :  it  assumes  in  his  eyes  the 
form  of  vanity. 

The  comedy  of  1  Henry  IV  is  a  new  form  of  Shakespearean 
comedy,  quite  distinct  from  the  romantic  comedy  of  gentlemen 
and  gentlewomen  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  The  Ttco  Gentlemen  qf 
Verona,  or  of  the  Belmont  scene  at  the  close  of  The  Merchant  qf 
Venice,  and  no  less  distinct  from  the  clown-play  of  Launce  and 
Speed,  or  of  Bottom  and  his  fellow-craftsmen,  which  came  to 
Shakespeare  as  a  heritage  from  the  pre-Elizabethan  drama.  In 
1  Henry  IV  we  have,  instead  of  romantic  comedy  and  clown-play, 
the  realistic  comedy  of  London  life  which  the  Elizabethan  dramatists 
knew  so  well,  and  which  was  to  play  so  great  a  part  in  the  comedies 
of  Ben  Jonson  and  his  school.  The  tis  comica  and  horseplay  of 
the  early  drama  is  not  absent  from  /  Henry  IV,  but  it  is  purged  of 
its  grossness  and  buffoonery,  and  enriched  by  the  superb  humor 
of  Falstaff. 

A  consideration  of  the  diction  and  verse  of  1  Henry  IV  reveals 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

the  fact  that  Shakespeare  had  by  1596  thrown  off  most  of  those 
mannerisms  which  are  traceable  in  his  early  works.  He  still  shows 
a  certain  fondness  for  word-play  even  in  the  serious  portions  of  the 
drama,  but  little  is  left  of  the  florid  diction,  the  tricks  of  rhetoric, 
and  the  fancifulness  of  his  earliest  dramas.  Above  all,  we  notice 
how  diction  and  verse  are  subjected  to  the  exigencies  of  his  dramatic 
instinct.  We  gain  insight  into  the  characters  of  the  dramatis 
personce  not  only  by  what  they  say,  but  by  their  mode  of  saying  it. 
"The  style  is  the  man."  The  dignified  but  stilted  and  formal 
language  of  Henry  IV,  set  to  verse  that  is  peculiarly  regular  and 
chary  of  "light  endings"  and  "double  endings,"  indicates  the 
king's  character  as  the  abrupt,  colloquial  diction  and  impetuous 
verse  of  Hotspur's  speeches  indicate  his  nature.1  In  like  manner, 
the  noble  epic  style  of  Vernon  in  iv.  1.  97-110  and  v.  2.  52-69  is 
made  to  reflect  a  heroic  element  in  his  character.  The  dramatic 
character  of  the  verse  of  Henry  IV  is  seen  in  yet  another  way: 
not  only  does  it  indicate  the  character  of  different  speakers,  but 
also  the  different  moods  of  the  same  speaker  at  different  times. 
Hotspur's  diction  is,  as  we  have  seen,  usually  colloquial,  but  when 
he  is  stirred  by  noble  indignation  or  chivalrous  ardor  it  loses  its 
prosaic  quality  and  becomes  suddenly  impassioned  and  imaginative. 
(See  i.  3.  93-112,  and  201-208.) 

Looking  at  the  style  of  the  poetic  portions  of  1  Henry  IV  as  a 
whole,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  struck  by  its  amplitude  and  massive 
strength.  Occasionally  there  is  epigrammatic  point,  as  in  the 
Prince's  dictum  on  the  seemingly  dead  Falstaff : 

"I  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man," 

but  for  the  most  part  Shakespeare  seeks  to  impress  rather  than  to 
dazzle.  The  style  of  Henri/  IV  (to  quote  Professor  Herford)  "has 
a  breadth  and  largeness  of  movement,  an  unsought  greatness  of 
manner,  which  marks  the  consummate  artist  who  no  longer  dons 
his  singing-robes  when  he  sings." 

When  we  apply  to  1  Henry  IV  the  metrical  tests  that  have  so 
often  been  adduced  to  furnish  evidence  as  to  the  date  of  composition 
of  Shakespeare's  plays,  one  striking  feature  comes  into  prominence 
—  the  infrequency  of  double  or  feminine  endings.2  Referring  to 
tables  given  by  Professor  Dowden  in  his  Primer,  and  by  Pro- 

1  Compare  the  king's  speeches  in  i.  1  and  iii.  2  with  those  of  Hotspur 

iii.  1. 

*  For  the  explanation  of  these  terms,  see  Dowden's  Shakespeare  Primer. 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

fessor  Herford  in  his  Introduction  to  Richard  II  (Arden  Series), 
we  find  that  the  percentage  of  double  ending*  in  /  Henry  IV 
falls  as  low  a.-  5.1.  but  rises  to  Hi.:!  in  .'  Henry  II',  and  to  £0.5  in 
Henry  V.  In  Shakespeare's  later  plays  the  jiercentage  of  double  end* 
ings  steadily  rises  till  in  The  Tempest  it  reaches  38.  In  Richard 
III  the  percentage  is  19.5,  in  Richard  II,  11,  and  in  King  John,  6.3. 
The  infrequency  of  double  endings  in  /  Henry  I\'  point-  to  the  fact, 
as  Professor  Herford  states,  that  Shakespeare  was  here  making 
exjieriinents  as  to  the  rhythmical  effects  of  the  different  forms  of 
blank  verse ;  it  also  seems  probable  that  it  is  intended  to  give  to 
the  blank  verse  of  /  Henry  II'  something  of  an  epic  diameter.  In 
epic  blank  verse,  such  as  that  of  Milton,  double  endings  are  rare; 
according  to  Professor  Masson  the  occurrence  of  such  endings  in 
Paradise  Lost  varies  from  about  1  per  cent  in  Hook  i  to  about  5  per 
cent  in  Hook  x.  Whether  this  attempt  to  give  to  the  blank  verse 
of  1  Henry  IV  an  epic  character,  by  reducing  to  a  minimum  the 
number  of  double  endings,  has  anything  in  common  with  the  fact 
that  in  this  play  he  is  reverting  to  the  epic  type  of  history  play  is 
a  matter  of  speculation;  for  certain  it  is  that  in  .'  Henry  II'  and 
Henry  V,  the  plots  of  which  are  more  epic  in  structure  than  that  of 
I  Henry  IV,  Shakespeare  used  double  endings  with  greater  fre- 
quency than  he  liad  done  in  any  earlier  play  with  the  exception 
of  Richard  III. 

Turning  from  outward  form  to  inner  meaning,  we  may  briefly 
consider  the  political  significance  of  the  play.  Both  parts  of 
Henry  II'  present  a  study  in  the  working  of  Nemesis.  The  deposi- 
tion of  Richard  II  was  in  the  interests  of  the  country  a  necessary 
act,  and  the  deposer  was  in  every  way  a  man  more  fit  to  rule.  Yet ; 
the  stigma  of  usurpation  clings  to  Holingbroke.  renders  his  rule 
insecure,  and  embitters  his  life.  The  prophecy  of  the  aged  Hishop 
of  Carlisle  (see  Richard  II,  iv.  1)  is  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  and  in  the 
two  parts  of  Henry  II'  we  follow  the  course  of  those  tumultuous 
wars  which  "kin  with  kin  and  kind  with  kind  confound."  Xor  is 
this  all :  not  only  is  there  open  warfare  in  the  country  and  discord 
within  the  King's  family  circle,  but  there  is  also  the  working  of  re- 
morse in  his  own  soul.  This  is  brought  home  to  us  most  forcibly 
in  the  Second  Part  (see  Act  iv,  scene  5),  but  it  is  present  already  in 
the  First  Part.  The  King  sees  in  his  son's  "wildness"  divine  ven- 
geance for  his  own  "mist readings."  That  this  Nemesis  should  be 
called  into  play  here  may  seem  paradoxical.  Henry  IV  is  the 
deliverer  of  his  country  from  the  hands  of  a  weak  tyrant,  and  as 
such  merits  reward  rather  than  punishment.  Hut  Shakespeare 


INTRODUCTION  xix 


seems  to  have  regarded  the  kingly  office  as  something  sacred.  It 
is  true  that  as  a  patriot  he  placed  the  welfare  and  safety  of  Eng- 
land high  above  the  welfare  and  safety  of  any  individual  monarch ; 
yet  he  saw  evil  in  usurpation.  Just  as,  in  the  trilogy  of  ^Eschylus, 
Orestes,  though  he  does  right  in  slaying  his  murderess-mother 
Clytemnestra,  is  nevertheless  pursued  by  the  Furies,  so  Boling- 
broke,  though  he  frees  England  from  extortion  and  misgovernment, 
has  to  expiate  the  crime  of  usurpation.  Shakespeare  even  makes 
Henry  V  feel  a  sense  of  the  wrong  his  father  committed  when,  on 
the  field  of  Agincourt,  he  prays : 

"Not  to-day,  O  Lord, 
O,  not  to-day,  think  not  upon  the  fault 
My  father  made  in  compassing  the  crown!" 

(Henry  V,iv.  1.  309-311.) 

king  as  king  is  in  Shakespeare's  eyes 

"the  figure  of  God's  majesty, 
His  captain,  steward,  deputy-elect" 

(Richard  II,  iv.  1.  125), 

ind  accordingly  Nemesis  overtakes  the  man  who  dethrones  him. 
Jut  though  the  usurper  has  to  expiate  his  crime,  yet,  inasmuch 
as  he  becomes  the  anointed  head  of  his  people,  he  too  acquires 
a  sacred  nature.  The  loyal  Blunt,  when  Hotspur  reproaches  him 
with  being  his  enemy,  replies : 

"And  God  defend  but  still  I  should  stand  so, 
So  long  as  out  of  limit  and  true  rule 
You  stand  against  anointed  majesty." 

lunt's  loyalty  to  Henry  IV  is  not  a  merely  personal  matter :  he 
in  the  King,  usurper  though  he  be,  "  anointed  majesty,"  and 
[or  this  he  lays  down  his  life. 

5.  THE  CHARACTERS 

Hazlitt  was  writing  of  Henry  IV  when  he  said  of  Shakespeare : 
He  appears  to  have  been  all  the  characters,  and  in  all  the  situa- 
tions he  describes."  Though  the  play  is  deficient  in  women,  it  is 
second  to  none  in  the  rich  variety  and  lifelikeness  of  its  charac- 
terization. We  are  introduced  to  a  world  of  full  activity:  the 
court,  the  tavern,  and  the  camp  are  the  scenes  of  action,  and  in 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

each  of  them  the  pulse  of  life  beats  strongly.  Most  of  the  historical 
characters  art*  drawn  from  the  pages  of  Holinshed,  but  whereas  in 
the  Chronicle  they  are  often  devoid  of  individuality,  they  receive 
at  Shakespeare's  hands  full  individualization.  Holinshed  is  con- 
tent to  tell  us  what  his  characters  did,  but  Shakespeare  lays  bare 
the  motives  of  their  action. 

The  characters  fall  naturally  into  two  groups,  which  correspond 
to  the  two  centers  of  action  —  the  historic  plot  and  the  Falstaffian 
comedy.  The  central  figure  in  the  former  group  is  Hotspur,  in  the 
latter,  Falstaff ;  but  the  true  hero  of  the  play,  and  the  man  who 
unites  the  two  spheres  of  action,  is  the  Prince  of  Wales. 

King  Henry,  though  an  imposing  figure,  is  not  attractive,  and  his 
character  in  the  play  is  a  natural  development  of  his  character  as 
Bolingbroke  in  Richard  II.  Holinshed's  Henry  IV  is  a  martial 
figure,  who  distinguishes  himself  as  much  on  the  field  of  battle  as  in 
the  council-chamber ;  but  Shakespeare,  while  he  reveals  the  King's 
promptness  and  decision  in  taking  steps  to  quell  the  Percy  rebellion, 
makes  little  of  his  prowess  in  the  fight.  He  won  the  crown  from 
Richard  by  diplomacy,  and  not  by  shock  of  arms,  and  Hotspur, 
who  scorns  diplomacy,  calls  him  a  "vile  politician"  and  a  "king  of 
smiles."  \Ve  come  into  closest  contact  with  the  King  when,  in 
his  private  interview  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  he  lays  bare  the 
devices  that  he  used  in  winning  the  throne : 

"And  then  I  stole  all  courtesy  from  heaven, 
And  dress'd  myself  in  such  humility 
That  I  did  pluck  allegiance  from  men's  hearts. 
Loud  shouts  and  salutations  from  their  mouths. 
Even  in  the  presence  of  the  crowned  king." 

(in.  2.  50-54.) 

There  is  a  singular  correspondence  between  these  words  placed 
on  the  lips  of  Henry  and  those  uttered  by  Richard  years  before, 
when  Bolingbroke  was  being  driven  into  exile : 

"Ourself  and  Bushy.  Bagot  here  and  Green, 
Observed  his  courtship  to  the  common  people ; 
How  he  did  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts, 
With  humble  and  familiar  courtesy, 
What  reverence  he  did  throw  away  on  slaves. 
Wooing  poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  smiles 
And  patient  underbearing  of  his  fortune, 
Aa  't  were  to  banish  their  affects  with  him." 

(Richard  II,  i.  4.  23-30.) 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 


eary  IV  has  won  the  crown  by  subtle  contrivings,  and  no  man 
knows  better  than  he  the  insecurity  of  his  position.  Looked  at 
from  one  point  of  view,  both  parts  of  Henry  IV  represent  the 
fulfillment  of  the  aged  Bishop  of  Carlisle's  prophecy : 

"And  if  you  crown  him,  let  me  prophesy: 
The  blood  of  English  shall  manure  the  ground, 
And  future  ages  groan  for  this  foul  act ; 
Peace  shall  go  sleep  with  Turks  and  infidels, 
And  in  this  seat  of  peace  tumultuous  wars 
Shall  kin  with  kin  and  kind  with  kind  confound." 

(Richard  II,  iv.  1.  136-141.) 

The  insecurity  of  his  position  renders  Henry  suspicious  and 
jealous.  He  is  jealous  of  Hotspur's  victory  over  Douglas,  suspi- 
cious of  Mortimer,  whose  right  to  the  throne  is  better  than  his  own, 
and  it  is  this  suspicion  and  jealousy  that  foment  the  Percy  rebel- 
lion. His  growing  sense  of  suspicion  bears  its  own  Nemesis  .with 
h ;  it  dulls  his  understanding,  and  renders  his  life  lonely.  He  fails 
to  understand  the  character  of  his  eldest  son,  suspects  his  loyalty, 
and  drives  him  from  the  court  to  the  tavern.  The  atmosphere  of 
that  court  is  chill  and  numbing;  no  gracious  womanly  figure,  like 
that  of  Richard's  consort,  appears  there,  and  the  King  looks  upon 
all  with  mistrust.  The  Percy  rising  brings  out  what  is  best  in  him, 
and  in  his  plans  for  the  campaign  we  see  once  again  the  far-seeing, 
practical  man  who  won  the  throne  from  the  hapless  Richard.  He 
forms  a  plan  of  action  wisely  and  swiftly,  is  generous  in  his  offers 
of  mercy  before  the  battle,  and  shows  that  he  has  the  welfare  of  his 
people  at  heart.  It  is  in  2  Henry  IV  that  we  fully  see  how  hard  the 
kingly  crown  has  pressed  upon  his  brow.  Anxiety  and  sleepless- 
ness have  rendered  him  prematurely  old,  remorse  for  the  evil  that 
he  has  done  in  compassing  the  crown  pricks  him,  and  his  life  is 
lonely  and  loveless.  In  his  every  act  we  see  the  success  and  the 
failure  that  attend  upon  the  calculating,  diplomatic  nature. 

In  opposition  to  Henry  IV  stands  Henry  Percy,  the  Hotspur  of 
the  North.  Shakespeare's  love  of  character-contrasts  was  very 
great  when  he  wrote  Henry  IV,  and  in  the  person  of  Hotspur  he 
has  presented  us  with  a  contrast  both  to  the  King  and  to  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  Hotspur  is  a  heroic  figure,  a  representative  of  the 
vanishing  age  of  chivalry.  His  character  is  composed  of  appar- 
ently antagonistic  elements.  Rough  in  speech,  and  affecting  a 
contempt  for  "mincing  poetry,"  he  is  at  the  same  time  full  of  the 
imaginative  power  that  makes  for  poetry,  and  some  of  the  most 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

poetic  six-win-*  in  the  play  fall  from  his  lips.  Placing  the  quest 
of  honor  above  all  things,  it  seems  to  him 

"an  easy  leap 
To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon." 

and  then  a  moment  later  he  talks  of  having  the  Prince  of  Wales 
"|M)ison'd  with  a  pot  of  ale."  Again,  ardent  and  emotional  as  his 
nature  is,  he  opposes  a  cold  scepticism  to  the  superstitious  arrogance 
of  (ilendowcr,  and  adopts  toward  his  wife,  lately  Percy,  a  (wintering 
tone  that  appears  to  conceal  his  deep  affection  for  her.  This  in- 
consistency springs  from  his  impulsive  nature.  Hotspur  is  indeed 
swayed  by  impulse,  as  the  King  is  swayed  by  calculation.  In  word 
and  in  act  he  expresses  the  thoughts  ami  feelings  of  the  moment, 
and  by  so  doing  betrays  his  lack  of  self-restraint  and  tact.  Thus 
he  offends  (Ilendower  by  his  scornful  ridicule  of  his  pretensions, 
brooks  no  opposition  in  the  division  of  the  land,  and  cannot  endure 
the  thought  of  postponing  the  Ivittle  of  Shrewsbury  until  his  forces 
are  all  on  the  field  and  ready  for  action.  Hotspur  delights  us  with 
his  candor,  his  high  .spirits  and  valiant  manliness,  but  we  art;  forced 
to  confess  that  his  nature  is  not  profound.  Even  his  love  of  honor 
is  superficial  when  compared  with  that  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  He 
will  leap  to  the  moon  or  dive  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  in  quest  of 
honor,  provided  that  he  may  l>ear  alxtut  with  him,  for  all  to  see, 
the  "dignities"  of  the  honor  he  has  won;  but  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
having  satisfied  his  own  inward  cravings  for  honor  in  the  moment 
of  his  victory  over  Hotspur,  cares  little  for  "the  bubble  reputa- 
tion," and  is  content  that  the  credit  of  having  slain  Hotspur  shall 
be  Falstaff's.  Hotspur's  sujxTficiality  renders  him  at  times  un- 
generous. The  Prince  —  though  in  the  presence  of  Falstaff  he 
parodies  with  complete  success  Hotspur's  restless  activity  and 
absent-mindedness  —  bears  on  more  than  one  occasion  a  high  tribute 
to  his  manly  \irtues;  but  his  rival  will  say  nothing  good  of  him, 
nor  listen  to  the  praise  of  others.  In  Hotspur's  eyes  he  is  simply 
the  "madcap  Prince  of  Wales,"  and  when  Vernon  ventures  to 
praise  the  Prince's  manly  bearing,  he  impatiently  interrupts  him : 

"No  more,  no  more;  worse  than  the  sun  in  March, 
This  praise  doth  nourish  agues." 

Yet  with  all  the  defects  of  his  qualities.  Hotspur  is  a  great  and 
inspiring  figure.  His  greatness  is  contagious,  and  compels  admira- 


• 

us 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

tion  and  imitation  from  his  associates.     Lady  Percy  makes  no  idle 
vaunt  when,  after  his  death,  she  says : 

"He  was  the  mark  aud  glass,  copy  and  book, 
That  fashioned  others." 

he  is  scornful  of  Glendower's  pretensions,  his  scorn  springs  from 
his  deep  love  of  truth.     "Tell  truth  and  shame  the  devil"  is  his 
idid  advice  to  Glendower,  while  to  Douglas  he  avers : 

"By  God,  I  cannot  flatter;  I  do  defy 
The  tongues  of  soothers." 

t  is  his  hatred  of  injustice  and  hypocrisy  that  makes  him  a  rebel ; 
his  impatience  and  masterfulness  are  merely  the  effervescence  of 
virile  force,  and  his  tactlessness  flows  from  his  candor.  Hotspur's 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  indicates  something  more 
than  inferiority  of  swordsmanship;  in  his  fall  we  see  the  valorous 
but  unthinking  heroism  of  a  chivalrous  age  overcome  by  one  in 

horn  deftness  of  hand  is  combined  with  agility  of  mind. 
The  Prince  of  Wales,  though  he  has  had  his  detractors,  has 
usually,  and  we  think  rightly,  been  regarded  as  Shakespeare's 
ideal  man  of  action,  and  in  the  play  that  bears  his  name,  his  ideal 
lung.  This  is  a  very  different  thing  from  saying  that  he  is  Shake- 
speare's ideal  man.  Some  of  the  finer  graces  of  manhood,  which 
lie  remote  from  the  practical  issues  of  life,  find  no  place  in  his  char- 
acter. He  lacks  the  poetic  charm  of  Richard  II,  the  intellectual 
subtlety  of  Hamlet,  the  ingenuousness  of  Brutus,  and  it  is  only  fair 
to  add  that  if  he  had  possessed  these  qualities  he  would  not  have 
been  Shakespeare's  ideal  man  of  action.  For  Shakespeare  knew, 
as  well  as  Aristotle  and  Spenser,  that  the  politic  virtues  —  the 
virtues  of  kingship  —  are  different  from  the  private  virtues  —  the 
virtues  of  manhood ;  the  qualities  of  kingliness  that  Shakespeare 
saw  in  Henry  are  all  of  a  practical  nature,  and  are  united  in  him 
with  a  fineness  of  proportion  which  establishes  a  well-balanced 
character,  and  gives  to  that  character  elasticity  and  resilience. 

We  are  concerned  here  with  the  character  of  Henry  only  in  its 
earlier  stages,  before  he  came  to  be  king.  The  chroniclers  were 
fond  of  insisting  on  the  sudden  and  almost  miraculous  conversion 
of  the  Prince  on  his  father's  death.  Following  a  not  altogether 
credible  tradition,  they  represent  him  in  his  youth  as  a  dissipated 
roysterer  who  is  suddenly  changed  into  a  model  king.  Shakespeare 
accepts  this  tradition  only  to  a  certain  degree ;  he  allows  the  Arch- 


xxiv  INTKOnrCTION 

bishop  of  Canterbury  ami  the  Bishop  of  Ely  to  assert  it  in  the 
o|>cning  scene  of  Henry  V,  hut  as  we  read  the  three  plays  in  which 
Henry  plays  so  prominent  a  part,  we  realize  that  the  change  is  less 
sudden  and  less  eomplete  than  the  chroniclers  represent.  From 
the  Prince's  soliloquy  at  the  end  of  /  Henry  IV,  Act  i.  s<-ene  2,  we 
see  tliat  he  is  very  far  from  l>eing  the  slave  of  riotous  pleasure,  and 
that  revelry  is  for  him  only  a  pastime  with  which  he  will  dispense 
when  the  hour  for  strenuous  action  arrives.  In  his  interview  with 
his  father  in  iii.  2,  and  in  his  conduct  at  the  Iwttle  of  Shrewsbury, 
we  discover  that  the  promise  made  by  him  in  his  .soliloquy  is  ful- 
filled to  the  letter.  The  Prince's  detractors  have  seen  in  this 
soliloquy,  and  in  the  pledges  that  the  Prince  makes  to  his  father, 
a  strain  of  self-consciousness  and  arrogance.  Vet  what  seems  like 
arrogance  is  in  reality  nothing  more  than  that  self-knowledge 
which  the  Greeks  made  the  highest  of  all  knowledge,  and  which 
is  assuredly  a  politic  virtue.  Self-knowledge  meant  for  him  also 
self-control,  and  we  are  made  conscious  of  this  latent  power  of  self- 
control  amid  the  Prince's  most  riotous  scenes.  His  temporary  in- 
dulgence in  tavern  revelry,  while  it  comes  as  a  welcome  relief  after 
the  strained  formality  of  the  court,  serves  also  a  diplomatic  purpose : 

"And  like  bright  metal  on  a  sullen  ground, 
My  reformation,  glittering  o'er  my  fault. 
Shall  show  more  goodly  and  attract  more  eyes 
Than  that  which  hath  no  foil  to  set  it  off. 
I  '11  so  offend  to  make  offence  a  skill ; 
Redeeming  time  when  men  think  least  I  will." 

As  we  read  these  words  of  the  Prince,  we  realize  that  he  was  not 
Bolingbroke's  son  for  nothing;  there  is  diplomacy  even  in  his  mo- 
ments of  revelry.  His  association  with  ostlers  and  drawers  serves 
yet  another  purpose.  His  desire  is  to  gain  a  fuller  knowledge  of 
men  in  every  rank  of  life,  and  through  fullness  of  knowledge  to  win 
broader  sympathies  and  deeper  insight  into  the  duties  of  one  who 
w  ill  one  day  be  king,  not  only  of  nobles  and  prelates,  but  of  tapsters 
and  serving-men  as  well. 

When  we  look  discerningly  into  the  Prince's  cliaracter  we  realize 
that  he  unites  in  himself  the  highest  qualities  of  men  so  divergent 
from  each  other  as  Henry  IV  and  Hotspur.  He  has  the  diplomacy 
of  Bolingbroke,  but  he  tempers  it  with  the  martial  prowess  and 
chivalry  of  the  great  Percy.  The  latter  is  no  match  for  him  in 
boldiership,  and  on  the  field  of  Shrewsbury  he  is  forced  to  "render 
every  glory  up"  to  the  man  whom  he  has  so  persistently  derided. 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

He  has,  too,  the  finer  graces  of  the  chivalrous  nature  —  generosity 
and  reverence.  He  has  only  praise  for  Hotspur,  alive  or  dead, 
while  the  prowess  of  his  brother,  John  of  Lancaster,  wins  from  him 
the  highest  tribute  of  respect : 

"Before,  I  loved  thee  as  a  brother,  John ; 
But  now,  I  do  respect  thee  as  my  soul." 

When  the  King,  in  return  for  his  high  deserts,  gives  him  the  life 
Douglas,   he  graciously  bestows  the  favor  upon  his  younger 
other,   and  contrives  that  Douglas's  ransomless  freedom   shall 
ame  to  him  as  a  gift  from  Prince  John.     His  reverence  is  seen  in 
bearing  toward  his  father.     In  his  interview  with  the  King 
2)  he  receives  cruel  insult.     He  is  accused  of  "vassal  fear" 
id  "base  inclination,"  and  is  represented  as  a  traitor  who  is  only 
too  likely  to  side  with  the  Percies  against  his  own  father.     His  reply 
to  this  wanton  charge  is  full  of  a  forbearance  that  springs  from  deep 
filial  reverence : 

"Do  not  think  so ;  you  shall  not  find  it  so : 
And  God  forgive  them  that  so  much  have  sway'd 
Your  majesty's  good  thoughts  away  from  me." 

We  recognize  in  the  Prince  a  master-spirit.  He  possesses  the 
best  qualities  of  kingliness,  and  holds  those  qualities  in  gracious 
juipoise.  There  is  no  littleness  in  him,  and  no  excess;  Shake- 
ire  has  granted  to  him  what  he  withheld  from  the  heroes  of  his 

lies  —  a  well-balanced  nature. 
The  remaining  characters,  with  the  exception  of  Falstaff,  must 
treated  more  summarily.  The  timorous  Northumberland,  who 
ents  such  a  contrast  to  his  audacious  son,  and  who,  "crafty- 
ck,"  leaves  that  son  to  fight  without  him  at  Shrewsbury,  is  a 
jntemptible  figure.  No  less  contemptible  is  Hotspur's  uncle, 
Torcester.  A  schemer  by  nature,  he  is  the  real  author  of  the 
Dnspiracy.  His  refusal  to  communicate  to  his  nephew  the  King's 
aerous  offer  of  pardon  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury, 
Dmpted  as  that  refusal  is  by  cowardly  motives,  makes  us  regard 
death-sentence  passed  upon  him  by  Henry  IV  as  a  just  recom- 

for  his  treachery. 
At  the  time  when  Shakespeare  was  writing  Henry  IV  and  Henry 
T,  it  would  seem  as  though  the  Welsh  nature  were  in  some  degree 
liming  his  attention.     In  1  Henry  IV  he  has  given  us  Glendower, 
Henry  V,  Fluellen;  and  in   both  characters   we  trace  certain 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

national  traits  upon  which  the  individual  features  are  superim- 
posed. Owen  Glendower  occupies  a  somewhat  heroic  position  in 
Welsh  history,  and  Shakespeare,  though  he  subjects  the  Welsh- 
man to  a  distinctly  humorous  treatment,  is  aware  of  his  fine  pro- 
portions. Mortimer  declares  him  to  he 

"valiant  as  a  lion. 

And  wondrous  affable,  and  as  bountiful 
As  mines  of  India." 

Glendowcr  does  not,  like  Fluellen,  speak  with  a  Welsh  accent, 
but  he  betrays  his  nationality  in  other  and  deeper  ways.  Holins- 
hed  tells  us  that  in  his  youth,  spent  at  the  English  court,  he  had 
studied  law ;  Shakespeare  says  nothing  of  this,  but  endows  him 
with  a  racial  love  for  music,  which  accords  with  his  romantic 
temperament  much  better  than  jurisprudence: 

"I  framed  to  the  harp 
Many  an  English  ditty  lovely  well, 
And  gave  the  tongue  a  helpful  ornament." 

Racial,  too,  is  his  superstition,  which  in  his  ca.se  is  also  made  to 
pamper  to  a  childish  egoism.  In  this  Shakespeare  was  building 
upon  the  foundations  of  Holinshed,  who  invests  (Jlendower  with 
an  atmosphere  of  necromancy,  and  tells  of  the  strange  wonders 
that  attended  him  on  his  campaigns.  Glendower  ostentatiously 
regards  himself  as  a  man  set  apart  for  high  purposes;  "I  am  not 
in  the  roll  of  common  men"  is  his  vain  contention,  and  he  persist! 
in  asserting  his  supernatural  powers  in  spite  of  the  wholesome 
ridicule  of  Hotspur. 

The  fascination  exercised  over  us  by  Hotspur  or  Prince  Henry 
is  quite  different  from  that  exercised  by  Falstaff  and  it  is  also  less 
potent.  We  may  apply  to  him  the  words  that  he  whimsically 
applies  to  Poins : 

"  I  am  bewitched  with  the  rogue's  company.  If  the  ras- 
cal have  not  given  me  medicines  to  make  me  love  him,  I'll 
be  hanged  ;  it  could  not  be  else ;  I  have  drunk  medicines." 

It  is  witchery  that  holds  us  fast  in  its  toils,  that  deadens  for  the 
time  our  moral  judgment,  and  makes  us  in  love  with  knavery  when 
that  knavery  is  so  full  of  mirth.  Charles  lamb's  ingenious  claim 
for  the  characters  of  the  later  Restoration  Comedy,  that  they  be- 
long to  a  world  of  their  own  which  lies  outside  the  world  of  Christen- 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

>m  and  everyday  life,  appeals  to  us  with  added  force  in  contem- 
iting  the  character  of  Falstaff.     When  we  soberly  analyze  his 
iture  from  the  ethical  standpoint,   we  are  forced  to  confess  that 
is  a  liar,  a  profligate,  and  a  cheat;  but  when  we  are  actually 
ling  and  entering  into  the  spirit  of   the  Falstaff  scenes,  we 
tubbornly  refuse  to  apply  this  moral  analysis,  and  give  ourselves 
ip  to  the  pure  enjoyment  of  a  humor  that  is  as  radiant  as  sunshine, 
id  of  wit  that,  for  all  its  keenness,  leaves  no  sting  behind. 
Falstaff  is,  beyond  all  contention,  the  most  humorous  creation 
the  whole  field  of  literature.     Attempts  have  been  made  to  point 
certain  elements  in  the  formation  of  his  character  which  had 
cen  literary  shape  before  Shakespeare's  time.     Comparisons  have 
?n  drawn  between  Falstaff  and  the  miles  gloriosus  and  the  scurra 
'  early  Latin  comedy,  and  between  Falstaff  and  Rabelais'  Panurge ; 
jut  when  the  most  is  made  of  such  points  of  resemblance,  we  must 
allow  that  the  hereditary  influence  of  literary  ancestors  nowhere 
counts  for  less  than  in  the  case  of  the  man  who  is  "Jack  Falstaff 
with  my  familiars,  John  with  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  Sir  John 
with  all  Europe." 

The  taproot  of  humor  runs  very  far  beneath  the  surface  of  life, 
id  draws  its  sustenance  from  the  hidden  springs  of  human  sym- 
ithy.  At  the  same  time  humor  can  exist  only  by  recognizing 
and  utilizing  the  incongruities  that  go  to  the  formation  of  character, 
and  incongruity  is  the  body  of  the  humor  of  Falstaff.  Maurice 
Morgann,  the  special  pleader  on  behalf  of  Falstaff  against  the 
many  charges  of  cowardice  brought  against  him,  rightly  summed 
up  the  incongruous  elements  in  Falstaff 's  character  in  his  Essay  on 
the  Character  of  Falstaff,  written  more  than  a  century  ago.  Falstaff 
is,  wrote  Morgann,  "a  man  at  once  young  and  old,  enterprising 
and  fat,  a  dupe  and  a  wit,  harmless  and  wicked,  weak  in  principle 
and  resolute  by  constitution,  cowardly  in  appearance  and  brave  in 
reality;  a  knave  without  malice,  a  liar  without  deceit;  and  a 
knight,  a  gentleman,  and  a  soldier,  without  either  dignity,  decency, 
or  honor."  Incongruity  is  ever  fertile  in  surprises,  and  as  we  follow 
the  career  of  Falstaff  through  the  play,  we  find  him  creating  for  us 
incidents  as  delightful  as  they  are  unforeseen.  How  humorously 
incongruous  are  the  exclamations  of  this  graybeard  of  seventy 
summers  when  robbing  the  travelers  in  Act  ii,  scene  2:  "They 
hate  us  youth.  What,  ye  knaves,  young  men  must  live!"  How 
rich  in  surprises  is  his  behavior  on  the  battlefield  of  Shrewsbury! 

I  But  perhaps  the  most  incongruous  element  in  his  nature  is  his  wit, 
the  nimbleness  of  which  accords  so  ill  with  that  tun  of  flesh  which 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

requires  levers  to  lift  it  from  the  ground.  Wit  and  humor,  as 
Coleridge  has  taught  us,  nre  different  things,  and  we  must  allow 
that  some  of  the  most  humorous  characters  in  literature  —  Don 
Quixote  for  instance  —  are  seldom  consciously  witty.  But  in 
Fal.staff  humor  and  wit  meet  and  mingle;  his  humor  makes  his 
words  more  witty,  and  his  wit  exhibits  new  facets  of  his  infinitely 
humorous  and  versatile  character.  Moreover,  as  he  himself  de- 
clares in  Part  II,  he  is  not  only  witty  himself,  "but  a  cause  that  wit 
is  in  other  men. "  Like  the  fool  in  .  1  -  You  Like  It,  he  is  a  touchstone 
by  which  the  wit  and  humor  in  other  men  are  tested.  Only  those 
who,  like  Prince  John  of  Lancaster,  have  no  laughter  in  them  fail 
to  respond  to  Falstaff's  gayety,  und  insist  on  regarding  him  seriously. 
Coming  back  to  what  has  already  been  stated,  we  repeat  that 
in  1  Henry  IV  Falstaff  must  not  be  judged  ethic-ally,  but  enjoyed 
intellectually.  We  must  regard  him  as  the  Prince  of  Wales  re- 
garded him  when  he  sought  in  his  companionship  a  healthful  dis- 
traction from  the  cares  and  intrigues  of  real  life.  There  will  come, 
it  is  true,  a  time  of  rude  awakening,  when  the  newly  crowned  king 
will  find  escape  from  the  duties  of  office  no  longer  possible,  but  in 
1  Henry  IV  the  rejection  of  FalstafT  — 

"  I  know  thee  not,  old  man  :  fall  to  thy  prayers"  - 

is  still  far  distant,  and  we  are  free  to  enjoy  the  boon  fellowship  of 
his  company,  taking  no  thought  for  the  morrow.  Falstaff  creates 
for  himself  an  atmosphere  of  humorous  make-believe,  through  which 
the  serious  concerns  of  life  and  questions  of  morals  cannot  penetrate. 
Neither  his  cowardice  nor  his  lying  is  to  be  taken  seriously.  As 
Professor  Bradley  has  shown,  his  lies  are  told  without  any  serious 
attempt  to  deceive.  When  he  makes  two  men  in  buckram  into 
eleven,  and  when  he  pretends  to  the  Prince  that  he  has  slain  Hot- 
spur, deception  is  out  of  the  question.  He  resorts  to  these  devices 
out  of  an  irresistible  delight  in  egregious  make-believe,  and  in  order 
to  place  himself  in  a  situation  the  escape  from  which  will  bring  into 
play  the  inexhaustible  resources  of  his  wit.  It  is  the  same  delight 
in  make-believe  that  inspires  his  sudden  and  unenduring  moods 
of  piety,  and  that  gives  zest  to  such  exclamations  as  —  "A  plague 
of  sighing  and  grief!  It  blows  a  man  up  like  a  bladder"  —  or, 
"  Company,  villanous  company,  hath  been  the  spoil  of  me." 

If  there  is  any  serious  purpose  in  life  for  Falstaff,  it  is  to  amuse 
the  Prince  and  to  provide  him  with  mirthful  entertainment.  To 
achieve  this  pur]>o.se,  he  is  prepared  to  go  to  any  length,  and  only 
once,  when  he  hands  the  Prince  a  boUle  of  sack  instead  of  a  pistol 


INTRODUCTION 


xxix 


the  battlefield  of  Shrewsbury,  does  his  ready  wit  fail  to  win  a 
welcome.     In  2  Henry  IV,  Falstaff  is  as  witty  as  ever,  but  we  are 
snscious  of  an  estrangement  of  sympathy  between  him  and  the 
rince,  though  Falstaff  fails  to  realize  it.     Only  once  do  we  find 
icm  together  before  the  scene  in  which  sentence  of  banishment  is 
ssed  upon  him.     This  is  not  the  place  to  consider  the  justice  or 
ajustice  of  that  sentence  of  banishment,  but  we  may,  in  concluding, 
ince  at  the  very  last  scene  in  his  career.     Broken-hearted  by 
ae  King's  rejection  of  him,  and  finding  that  his  atmosphere  of  make- 
lieve  no  longer  protects  him,  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  die.     The 
of  his  death  is  told  by  Dame  Quickly,  in  Henry  V  (Act  ii, 
ene  3),  and  it  is  like  no  other  death-bed  scene  in  literature.     In- 
u'tely  humorous,  it  is  also  infinitely  pathetic,  and  laughter  and 
lie  very  near  together : 

"Hostess.     Nay,  sure,  he  's  not  in  hell :  he  's  in  Arthur's  bosom 
ever  man  went  to  Arthur's  bosom.     A'  made  a  finer  end,  and 
3nt  away  an  it  had  been  any  christom  child ;  a'  parted  even  just 
etween  twelve  and  one,  even  at  the  turning  o'  the  tide :  for  after 
saw  him  fumble  with  the  sheets  and  play  with  flowers,  and  smile 
ipon  his  fingers'  ends,  I  knew  there  was  but  one  way ;  for  his  nose 
vas  as  sharp  as  a  pen,  and  a'  babbled  of  green  fields.     'How  now, 
Sir  John!'  quoth  I:     'What,  man!  be  o'  good  cheer.'      So  a'  cried 
jut  'God,  God,  God!'  three  or  four  times.     Now  I,  to  comfort 
i,  bid  him  a'  should  not  think  of  God  ;  I  hoped  there  was  no  need 
trouble  himself  with  any  such  thoughts  yet.     So  a'  bade  me  lay 
lore  clothes  on  his  feet:     I  put  my  hand  into  the  bed  and  felt 
tiem,  and  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone ;  then  I  felt  to  his  knees 
id  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone,  and  so  upward   and  upward 
id  all  was  as  cold  as  any  stone." 


DRAMATIS   PERSONS 

KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH 

HENRY,  Prince  of  Wales  1 &>ns  to  the  King 

JOHN  OF  LANCASTER  { 
KARL  OF  WESTMORELAND 
SIR  WALTER  BLUNT 

THOMAS  PERCY Earl  of  Worcester 

HENRY  PERCY Earl  of  Northumberland 

HENRY  PERCY,  surnamed  HOTSPUR His  son 

EDMUND  MORTIMER Earl  of  March 

RICHARD  SCROOP Archbishop  of  York 

ARCHIBALD Earl  of  Douglas 

OWEN  GLENDOWER 

SIR  RICHARD  VERNON 

SIR  JOHN  FALSTAFF 

SIR  MICHAEL  ...       A  friend  to  the  Archbishop  of  York 

POINS 

GADSHILL 

PETO 

BARDOLPH 

LADY  PERCY   .     .  Wife  to  Hotspur,  and  sister  to  Mortimer 

LADY  MORTIMER 

Daughter  to  Glendower,  and  wife  to  Mortimer 
MISTRESS  QUICKLY  .     .     Hostess  of  a  tavern  in  Eastcheap 

Lords,  Officers,  Sheriff,  Vintner,  Chamberlain.  Drawers,  two 
Carriers,  Travellers,  and  Attendants 

SCENE  —  ENGLAND 

Time  of  action  —  Thirteen  months  —  from  the  defeat  of 
Mortimer  by  Glendower,  June  22,  1402,  to  the  battle  of 
Shrewsbury,  July  21,  1403. 


THE  FIRST  PART  OF 
KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH 

ACT  I 

SCENE  I  —  London.     The  palace 

Enter  KING  HENRY,  LORD  JOHN  OF  LANCASTER,  THE 
EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND,  SIR  WALTER  BLUNT,  and  others 

King.     So  shaken  as  we  are,  so  wan  with  care, 
Find  we  a  time  for  frighted  peace  to  pant, 
And  breathe  short-winded  accents  of  new  broils 
To  be  commenced  in  stronds  afar  remote. 
No  more  the  thirsty  entrance  of  this  soil 
Shall  daub  her  lips  with  her  own  children's  blood ; 
No  more  shall  trenching  war  channel  her  fields, 
Nor  bruise  her  flowerets  with  the  armed  hoofs 
Of  hostile  paces  :  those  opposed  eyes, 
Which,  like  the  meteors  of  a  troubled  heaven,  10 

All  of  one  nature,  of  one  substance  bred, 
Did  lately  meet  in  the  intestine  shock 
And  furious  close  of  civil  butchery 
Shall  now,  in  mutual  well-beseeming  ranks, 
March  all  one  way  and  be  no  more  opposed 
Against  acquaintance,  kindred  and  allies  : 
The  edge  of  war,  like  an  ill-sheathed  knife, 
No  more  shall  cut  his  master.     Therefore,  friends, 
As  far  as  to  the  sepulchre  of  Christ, 

1 


2  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  ONE 

20  Whose  soldier  now,  under  whose  blessed  cross 
We  are  impressed  and  engaged  to  fight, 
Forthwith  a  power  of  English  shall  we  levy ; 
Whose  arms  were  moulded  in  their  mother's  womb 
To  chase  these  pagans  in  those  holy  fields 
Over  whose  acres  walk'd  those  blessed  feet 
Which  fourteen  hundred  years  ago  were  nail'd 
For  our  advantage  on  the  bitter  cross. 
But  this  our  purpose  now  is  twelve  month  old, 
And  bootless  't  is  to  tell  you  we  will  go : 

so  Therefore  we  meet  not  now.     Then  let  me  hear 
Of  you,  my  gentle  cousin  Westmoreland, 
What  yesternight  our  council  did  decree 
In  forwarding  this  dear  expedience. 

West.     My  liege,  thus  haste  was  hot  in  question. 
And  many  limits  of  the  charge  set  down 
But  yesternight :   when  all  athwart  there  came 
A  post  from  Wales  loaden  with  heavy  news ; 
W'hose  worst  was,  that  the  noble  Mortimer, 
Leading  the  men  of  Herefordshire  to  fight 

«o  Against  the  irregular  and  wild  Glendower, 

Was  by  the  rude  hands  of  that  Welshman  taken, 

A  thousand  of  his  people  butchered ; 

Upon  whose  dead  corpse  there  was  such  misuse, 

Such  beastly  shameless  transformation, 

By  those  Welshwomen  done  as  may  not  be 

Without  much  shame  retold  or  spoken  of. 

King.     It  seems  then  that  the  tidings  of  this  broil 
Brake  off  our  business  for  the  Holy  Land. 

West.     This  match'd  with  other  did,  my  gracious 
lord; 

so  For  more  uneven  and  unwelcome  news 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH          3 

Came  from  the  north  and  thus  it  did  import : 

On  Holy-rood  day,  the  gallant  Hotspur  there, 

Young  Harry  Percy  and  brave  Archibald, 

That  ever- valiant  and  approved  Scot, 

At  Holmedon  met, 

Where  they  did  spend  a  sad  and  bloody  hour ; 

As  by  discharge  of  their  artillery, 

And  shape  of  likelihood,  the  news  was  told ; 

For  he  that  brought  them,  in  the  very  heat 

And  pride  of  their  contention  did  take  horse,  eo 

Uncertain  of  the  issue  any  way. 

King.     Here  is  a  dear,  a  true  industrious  friend, 
Sir  Walter  Blunt,  new  lighted  from  his  horse, 
Stain'd  with  the  variation  of  each  soil 
Betwixt  that  Holmedon  and  this  seat  of  ours ; 
And  he  hath  brought  us  smooth  and  welcome  news. 
The  Earl  of  Douglas  is  discomfited : 
Ten  thousand  bold  Scots,  two  and  twenty  knights, 
Balk'd  in  their  own  blood  did  Sir  Walter  see 
On  Holmedon's  plains.     Of  prisoners,  Hotspur  took  70 
Mordake  the  Earl  of  Fife,  and  eldest  son 
To  beaten  Douglas ;  and  the  Earl  of  Athol, 
Of  Murray,  Angus,  and  Menteith  : 
And  is  not  this  an  honourable  spoil  ? 
A  gallant  prize  ?  ha,  cousin,  is  it  not  ? 

West.     In  faith, 
It  is  a  conquest  for  a  prince  to  boast  of. 

King.     Yea,  there  thou  makest  me  sad  and  mak- 

est  me  sin 

In  envy  that  my  Lord  Northumberland 
Should  be  the  father  to  so  blest  a  son,  so 

A  son  who  is  the  theme  of  honour's  tongue ; 


4  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Act  ONE 

Amongst  a  grove,  the  very  straightest  plant ; 
Who  is  sweet  Fortune's  minion  and  her  pride : 
Whilst  I,  by  looking  on  the  praise  of  him, 
See  riot  and  dishonour  stain  the  brow 
Of  my  young  Harry.     O  that  it  could  be  proved 
That  some  night-tripping  fairy  had  exchanged 
In  cradle-clothes  our  children  where  they  lay, 
And  call'd  mine  Percy,  his  Plantagenet! 

w  Then  would  I  have  his  Harry,  and  he  mine. 

But  let  him  from  my  thoughts.     What  think  you, 

coz, 

Of  this  young  Percy's  pride  ?  the  prisoners, 
Which  he  in  this  adventure  hath  surprised, 
To  his  own  use  he  keeps ;   and  sends  me  word, 
I  shall  have  none  but  Mordake  Earl  of  Fife. 

West.     This    is    his    uncle's    teaching :     this    is 

Worcester, 

Malevolent  to  you  in  all  aspects ; 
Which  makes  him  prune  himself,  and  bristle  up 
The  crest  of  youth  against  your  dignity. 

100      King.     But  I  have  sent  for  him  to  answer  this ; 
And  for  this  cause  awhile  we  must  neglect 
Our  holy  purpose  to  Jerusalem. 
Cousin,  on  Wednesday  next  our  council  we 
Will  hold  at  Windsor ;   so  inform  the  lords  • 
But  come  yourself  with  speed  to  us  again ; 
For  more  is  to  be  said  and  to  be  done 
Than  out  of  anger  can  be  uttered. 

West.     I  will,  my  liege.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH          5 

SCENE  II  —  London.     An  apartment  of  the  Prince's 
Enter  the  PRINCE  OF  WALES  and  FALSTAFF 

Fal.     Now,  Hal,  what  time  of  day  is  it,  lad  ? 

Prince.  Thou  art  so  fat-witted,  with  drinking 
of  old  sack  and  unbuttoning  thee  after  supper 
and  sleeping  upon  benches  after  noon,  that  thou 
hast  forgotten  to  demand  that  truly  which  thou 
wouldst  truly  know.  What  a  devil  hast  thou  to 
do  with  the  time  of  the  day?  Unless  hours  were 
cups  of  sack  and  minutes  capons  and  clocks  the 
tongues  of  bawds  and  dials  the  signs  of  leaping- 
houses  and  the  blessed  sun  himself  a  fair  hotio 
wench  in  flame-coloured  taffeta,  I  see  no  reason 
why  thou  shouldst  be  so  superfluous  to  demand 
the  time  of  the  day. 

Fal.  Indeed,  you  come  near  me  now,  Hal; 
for  we  that  take  purses  go  by  the  moon  and  the 
seven  stars,  and  not  by  Phcebus,  he,  "that  wan- 
dering knight  so  fair."  And,  I  prithee,  sweet 
wag,  when  thou  art  king,  as,  God  save  thy 
grace,  —  majesty  I  should  say,  for  grace  thou  wilt 
have  none,  —  20 

Prince.     What,  none? 

Fal.  No,  by  my  troth,  not  so  much  as  will 
serve  to  be  prologue  to  an  egg  and  butter. 

Prince.  Well,  how  then?  come,  roundly, 
roundly. 

Fal.  Marry,  then,  sweet  wag,  when  thou  art 
king,  let  not  us  that  are  squires  of  the  night's 
body  be  called  thieves  of  the  day's  beauty :  let 


6  KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [ACT  ONE 

us  be  Diana's  foresters,  gentlemen  of  the  shade, 
so  minions  of  the  moon ;  and  let  men  say  we  be  men 
of  good  government,  l>eing  governed,  as  the  sea 
is,  by  our  noble  and  chaste  mistress  the  moon, 
under  whose  countenance  we  steal. 

Prince.  Thou  sayest  well,  and  it  holds  well 
too;  for  the  fortune  of  us  that  are  the  moon's 
men  doth  ebb  and  flow  like  the  sea,  being  gov- 
erned, as  the  sea  is,  by  the  moon.  As,  for  proof, 
now :  a  purse  of  gold  most  resolutely  snatched 
on  Monday  night  and  most  dissolutely  spent  on 
40 Tuesday  morning;  got  with  swearing  "Lay  by" 
and  spent  with  crying  "Bring  in";  now  in  as  low 
an  ebb  as  the  foot  of  the  ladder  and  by  and  by 
in  as  high  a  flow  as  the  ridge  of  the  gallows. 

Fal.  By  the  Lord,  thou  sayest  true,  lad. 
And  is  not  my  hostess  of  the  tavern  a  most  sweet 
wench  ? 

Prince.  As  the  honey  of  Hybla,  my  old  lad 
of  the  castle.  And  is  not  a  buff  jerkin  a  most 
sweet  robe  of  durance  ? 

so  Fal.  How  now,  how  now,  mad  wag !  what,  in 
thy  quips  and  thj-  quiddities?  what  a  plague 
have  I  to  do  with  a  buff  jerkin  ? 

Prince.  Why,  what  a  pox  have  I  to  do  with 
my  hostess  of  the  tavern  ? 

Fal.  Well,  thou  hast  called  her  to  a  reckoning 
many  a  time  and  oft. 

Prince.  Did  I  ever  call  for  thee  to  pay  thy 
part? 

Fal.     No;    I  '11  give  thee  thy  due,  thou  hast 
GO  paid  all  there. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH          7 

Prince.  Yea,  and  elsewhere,  so  far  as  my  coin 
would  stretch;  and  where  it  would  not,  I  have 
used  my  credit. 

Fal.  Yea,  and  so  used  it  that,  were  it  not 
here  apparent  that  thou  art  heir  apparent  —  But, 
I  prithee,  sweet  wag,  shall  there  be  gallows  stand- 
ing in  England  when  thou  art  king?  and  resolu- 
tion thus  fobbed  as  it  is  with  the  rusty  curb  of 
old  father  antic  the  law?  Do  not  thou,  when 
thou  art  king,  hang  a  thief.  70 

Prince.     No;   thou  shalt. 

Fal.  Shall  I  ?  O  rare !  By  the  Lord,  I  '11  be 
a  brave  judge. 

Prince.  Thou  judgest  false  already :  I  mean, 
thou  shalt  have  the  hanging  of  the  thieves  and  so 
become  a  rare  hangman. 

Fal.  Well,  Hal,  well;  and  in  some  sort  it 
jumps  with  my  humour  as  well  as  waiting  in  the 
court,  I  can  tell  you. 

Prince.     For  obtaining  of  suits?  so 

Fal.  Yea,  for  obtaining  of  suits,  whereof  the 
hangman  hath  no  lean  wardrobe.  'Sblood,  I  am 
as  melancholy  as  a  gib  cat  or  a  lugged  bear. 

Prince.     Or  an  old  lion,  or  a  lover's  lute. 

Fal.  Yea,  or  the  drone  of  a  Lincolnshire 
bagpipe. 

Prince.  What  sayest  thou  to  a  hare,  or  the 
melancholy  of  Moor-ditch  ? 

Fal.     Thou   hast   the   most   unsavoury   similes 
and  art  indeed  the  most  comparative,  rascalliest,  90 
sweet  young  prince.     But,  Hal,  I  prithee,  trouble 
me    no    more    with    vanity.      I    would    to    God 

I 


8  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT 

thou  and  I  knew  where  a  commodity  of  good 
names  were  to  be  bought.  An  old  lord  of  the 
council  rated  me  the  other  day  in  the  street 
about  you,  sir,  but  I  marked  him  not ;  and  yet 
he  talked  very  wisely,  but  I  regarded  him  not; 
and  yet  he  walked  wisely,  and  in  the  street  too. 

Prince.  Thou  didst  well ;  for  wisdom  cries 
;ooout  in  the  streets,  and  no  man  regards  it. 

Fal.  O,  thou  hast  damnable  iteration  and  art 
indeed  able  to  corrupt  a  saint.  Thou  hast  done 
much  harm  upon  me,  Hal ;  (rod  forgive  thee 
for  it !  Before  I  knew  thee,  Hal,  I  knew 
nothing;  and  now  am  I,  if  a  man  should  speak 
truly,  little  better  than  one  of  the  wicked.  I 
must  give  over  this  life,  and  I  will  give  it  over : 
by  the  Lord,  an  I  do  not,  I  am  a  villain ;  I  '11 
be  damned  for  never  a  king's  son  in  Christendom. 
no  Prince.  Where  shall  we  take  a  purse  to-mor- 
row, Jack  ? 

Fal.  'Zounds,  where  thou  wilt,  lad ;  I  '11  make 
one ;  an  I  do  not,  call  me  villain  and  baffle  me. 

Prince.  I  see  a  good  amendment  of  life  in 
thee;  from  praying  to  purse-taking. 

Fal.  Why,  Hal,  't  is  my  vocation,  Hal;  't  is 
no  sin  for  a  man  to  labour  in  his  vocation. 

Enter  POINS 

Poins !  Now  shall  we  know  if  Gadshill  have 
set  a  match.  O,  if  men  were  to  be  saved  by 
120  merit,  what  hole  in  hell  were  hot  enough  for 
him  ?  This  is  the  most  omnipotent  villain  that 
ever  cried  "Stand"  to  a  true  man. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH          9 

Prince.     Good  morrow,  Ned. 

Poins.  Good  morrow,  sweet  Hal.  What  says 
Monsieur  Remorse?  what  says  Sir  John  Sack 
and  Sugar  ?  Jack !  how  agrees  the  devil  and 
thee  about  thy  soul,  that  thou  soldest  him  on 
Good-Friday  last  for  a  cup  of  Madeira  and  a  cold 
capon's  leg  ? 

Prince.     Sir    John    stands    to    his    word,    the  130 
devil  shall  have  his  bargain;    for  he  was  never 
yet  a  breaker  of  proverbs :   he  will  give  the  devil 
his  due. 

Poins.  Then  art  thou  damned  for  keeping  thy 
word  with  the  devil. 

Prince.  Else  he  had  been  damned  for  cozening 
the  devil. 

Poins.  But,  my  lads,  my  lads,  to-morrow 
morning,  by  four  o'clock,  early  at  Gadshill ! 
there  are  pilgrims  going  to  Canterbury  with  rich  140 
offerings,  and  traders  riding  to  London  with  fat 
purses :  I  have  vizards  for  you  all ;  you  have 
horses  for  yourselves :  Gadshill  lies  to-night  in 
Rochester :  I  have  bespoke  supper  to-morrow 
night  in  Eastcheap :  we  may  do  it  as  secure  as 
sleep.  If  you  will  go,  I  will  stuff  your  purses 
full  of  crowns ;  if  you  will  not,  tarry  at  home  and 
be  hanged. 

Fal.  Hear  ye,  Yedward;  if  I  tarry  at  home 
and  go  not,  I  '11  hang  you  for  going.  iso 

Poins.     You  will,  chops  ? 

Fal.     Hal,  wilt  thou  make  one  ? 

Prince.  Who,  I  rob?  I  a  thief?  not  I,  by  my 
faith. 


10  KING   HENRY   THE   FOfRTH      [ACT  ONE 

Fal.  There's  neither  honesty,  manhood,  nor 
good  fellowship  in  thee,  nor  thou  earnest  not  of 
the  blood  royal,  if  thou  darest  not  stand  for  ten 
shillings. 

Prince.     Well  then,  once  in  my  days  I  '11  be  a 
leo  madcap. 

Fal.     Why,  that's  well  said. 

Prince.  Well,  come  what  will,  I  '11  tarry  at 
home. 

Fal.  By  the  Lord,  I  '11  be  a  traitor  then,  when 
thou  art  king. 

Prince.     I  care  not. 

Poins.  Sir  John,  I  prithee,  leave  the  prince 
and  me  alone :  I  will  lay  him  down  such  reasons 
for  this  adventure  that  he  shall  go. 
170  Fal.  Well,  God  give  thee  the  spirit  of  per- 
suasion and  him  the  ears  of  profiting,  that  what 
thou  speakest  may  move  and  what  he  hears  may 
be  believed,  that  the  true  prince  may,  for  recrea- 
tion sake,  prove  a  false  thief;  for  the  poor  abuses 
of  the  time  want  countenance.  Farewell :  you 
shall  find  me  in  Eastcheap. 

Prince.  Farewell,  the  latter  spring !  farewell, 
All-hallown  summer  !  [Exit  Falstaff. 

Poins.  Now,  my  good  sweet  honey  lord,  ride 
iso  with  us  to-morrow :  I  have  a  jest  to  execute 
that  I  cannot  manage  alone.  Falstaff,  Bardolph, 
Peto,  and  Gadshill  shall  rob  those  men  that  we 
have  already  waylaid ;  yourself  and  I  will  not 
be  there ;  and  when  they  have  the  booty,  if  you 
and  I  do  not  rob  them,  cut  this  head  off  from  my 
shoulders. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        11 

Prince.  How  shall  we  part  with  them  in  set- 
ting forth? 

Poins.  Why,  we  will  set  forth  before  or  after 
them,  and  appoint  them  a  place  of  meeting,  \w 
wherein  it  is  at  our  pleasure  to  fail,  and  then  will 
they  adventure  upon  the  exploit  themselves; 
which  they  shall  have  no  sooner  achieved,  but 
we  '11  set  upon  them. 

Prince.  Yea,  but  't  is  like  that  they  will  know 
us  by  our  horses,  by  our  habits,  and  by  every 
other  appointment,  to  be  ourselves. 

Poins.     Tut !   our   horses   they   shall   not   see ; 
I  '11  tie  them  in  the  wood ;  our  vizards  we  will 
change  after  we  leave  them :    and,  sirrah,  I  have  200 
cases  of  buckram  for  the  nonce,  to  immask  our 
noted  outward  garments. 

Prince.  Yea,  but  I  doubt  they  will  be  too 
hard  for  us. 

Poins.  Well,  for  two  of  them,  I  know  them  to 
be  as  true-bred  cowards  as  ever  turned  back ;  and 
for  the  third,  if  he  fight  longer^  than  he  sees  rea- 
son, I  '11  forswear  arms.  The  virtue  of  this  jest 
will  be,  the  incomprehensible  lies  that  this  same 
fat  rogue  will  tell  us  when  we  meet  at  supper :  210 
how  thirty,  at  least,  he  fought  with ;  what  wards, 
what  blows,  what  extremities  he  endured;  and 
in  the  reproof  of  this  lies  the  jest. 

Prince.     Well,   I  '11   go   with   thee :   provide  us  • 
all  things  necessary  and  meet  me  to-morrow  night 
in  Eastcheap ;    there  I  '11  sup.     Farewell. 

Poins.     Farewell,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

Prince.     I  know  you  all,  and  will  awhile  uphold 


12  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [Acr  Oxi 

The  unyoked  humour  of  your  idleness  : 

220  Yet  herein  will  I  imitate  the  sun, 

Who  doth  j)ermit  the  base  contagious  clouds 
To  smother  up  his  beauty  from  the  world, 
That,  when  he  please  again  to  be  himself, 
Being  wanted,  he  may  l>e  more  wonder'd  at, 
By  breaking  through  the  foul  and  ugly  mists 
Of  vapours  that  did  seem  to  strangle  him. 
If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 
To  sport  would  l>e  as  tedious  as  to  work ; 
But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wish'd  for  come, 

2:jo  And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  accidents. 
So,  when  this  loose  behaviour  I  throw  off 
And  pay  the  debt  I  never  promised, 
By  how  much  better  than  my  word  I  am, 
By  so  much  shall  I  falsify  men's  hopes; 
And  like  bright  metal  on  a  sullen  ground, 
My  reformation,  glittering  o'er  my  fault, 
Shall  show  more  goodly  and  attract  more  eyes 
Than  that  which  hath  no  foil  to  set  it  off. 
I  '11  so  offend,  to  inake  offence  a  skill ; 

240  Redeeming  time  when  men  think  least  I  will. 

[Exit. 

SCEXE  III  —  London.     The  palace 

Enter  the  KIVG,  NORTHUMBERLAND,  WORCESTER, 
HOTSPUR,  SIR  WALTER  BLUNT,  frith  others 

King.     My  blood  hath  been  too  cold  and  tem- 
perate, 

Unapt  to  stir  at  these  indignities, 
And  you  have  found  me ;   for  accordingly 
You  tread  u{>on  my  patience :   but  be  sure 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH      13 

I  will  from  henceforth  rather  be  myself, 
Mighty  and  to  be  fear'd,  than  my  condition ; 
Which  hath  been  smooth  as  oil,  soft  as  young  down, 
And  therefore  lost  that  title  of  respect 
Which  the  proud  soul  ne'er  pays  but  to  the  proud. 

Wor.     Our  house,  my  sovereign  liege,  little  de- 
serves 10 
The  scourge  of  greatness  to  be  used  on  it ; 
And  that  same  greatness  too  which  our  own  hands 
Have  holp  to  make  so  portly. 

North.     My  lord,  — 

King.     Worcester,  get  thee  gone ;  for  I  do  see 
Danger  and  disobedience  in  thine  eye : 
O,  sir,  your  presence  is  too  bold  and  peremptory, 
And  majesty  might  never  yet  endure 
The  moody  frontier  of  a  servant  brow. 
You  have  good  leave  to  leave  us  :  when  we  need     20 
Your  use  and  counsel,  we  shall  send  for  you. 

[Exit  Wor. 
You  were  about  to  speak.  [To  North. 

North.  Yea,  my  good  lord. 

Those  prisoners  in  your  highness'  name  demanded, 
Which  Harry  Percy  here  at  Holmedon  took, 
Were,  as  he  says,  not  with  such  strength  denied 
As  is  deliver'd  to  your  majesty  : 
Either  envy,  therefore,  or  misprision 
Is  guilty  of  this  fault  and  not  my  son. 

Hot.     My  liege,  I  did  deny  no  prisoners. 
But  I  remember,  when  the  fight  was  done,  30 

When  I  was  dry  with  rage  and  extreme  toil, 
Breathless  and  faint,  leaning  upon  my  sword, 
Came  there  a  certain  lord,  neat,  and  trimly  dress'd, 


14  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Acr  ONE 

Fresh  as  a  bridegroom ;  and  his  chin  new  reap'd 

Show'd  like  a  stubble-land  at  harvest-home ; 

He  was  perfumed  like  a  milliner ; 

And  'twixt  his  finger  and  his  thumb  he  held 

A  pouncet-box,  which  ever  and  anon 

He  gave  his  nose  and  took  't  away  again ; 

40  Who  therewith  angry,  when  it  next  came  there, 
Took  it  in  snuff ;  and  still  he  smiled  and  talk'd, 
And  as  the  soldiers  bore  dead  bodies  by, 
He  call'd  them  untaught  knaves,  unmannerly, 
To  bring  a  slovenly  unhandsome  corse 
Betwixt  the  wind  and  his  nobility. 
With  many  holiday  and  lady  terms 
He  question'd  me ;  amongst  the  rest,  demanded 
My  prisoners  in  your  majesty's  behalf. 
I  then,  all  smarting  with  my  wounds  being  cold, 

so  To  be  so  pester'd  with  a  popinjay, 
Out  of  my  grief  and  my  impatience, 
Answer'd  neglectingly  I  know  not  what, 
He  should,  or  he  should  not ;  for  he  made  me  mad 
To  see  him  shine  so  brisk  and  smell  so  sweet 
And  talk  so  like  a  waiting-gentlewoman 
Of  guns  and  drums  and  wounds,  —  God  save  the 

mark !  — 

And  telling  me  the  sovereign'st  thing  on  earth 
Was  parmaceti  for  an  inward  bruise ; 
And  that  it  was  great  pity,  so  it  was, 

eo  This  villanous  salt-petre  should  be  digg'd 
Out  of  the  bowels  of  the  harmless  earth, 
Which  many  a  good  tall  fellow  had  destroy 'd 
So  cowardly ;   and  but  for  these  vile  guns, 
He  would  himself  have  been  a  soldier. 


OCBNB  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH      15 

This  bald  unjointed  chat  of  his,  my  lord, 
I  answer'd  indirectly,  as  I  said ; 
And  I  beseech  you,  let  not  his  report 
Come  current  for  an  accusation 
Betwixt  my  love  and  your  high  majesty. 

Blunt.     The  circumstance  consider'd,   good  my 

lord,  7( 

Whate'er  Lord  Harry  Percy  then  had  said 
To  such  a  person  and  in  such  a  place, 
At  such  a  time,  with  all  the  rest  retold, 
May  reasonably  die  and  never  rise 
To  do  him  wrong  or  any  way  impeach 
What  then  he  said,  so  he  unsay  it  now. 

King.     Why,  yet  he  doth  deny  his  prisoners, 
But  with  proviso  and  exception, 
That  we  at  our  own  charge  shall  ransom  straight 
His  brother-in-law,  the  foolish  Mortimer ;  sc 

Who,  on  my  soul,  hath  wilfully  betray'd 
The  lives  of  those  that  he  did  lead  to  fight 
Against  that  great  magician,  damn'd  Glendower, 
Whose  daughter,  as  we  hear,  the  Earl  of  March 
Hath  lately  married.     Shall  our  coffers,  then, 
Be  emptied  to  redeem  a  traitor  home  ? 
Shall  we  buy  treason  ?  and  indent  with  fears, 
When  they  have  lost  and  forfeited  themselves  ? 
No,  on  the  barren  mountains  let  him  starve ; 
For  I  shall  never  hold  that  man  my  friend  oc 

Whose  tongue  shall  ask  me  for  one  penny  cost 
To  ransom  home  revolted  Mortimer. 

Hot.     Revolted  Mortimer ! 
He  never  did  fall  off,  my  sovereign  liege, 
But  by  the  chance  of  war :  to  prove  that  true 


16  HINT,    HENRY   THE   FOURTH      [A.T  ONE 

Needs  no  more  hut  one  tongue  for  all  those  wounds, 
Those  mouthed  wounds,  which  valiantly  he  took, 
When  on  the  gentle  Severn's  sedgy  hank, 
In  single  opposition,  hand  to  hand, 

100  He  did  confound  the  hest  part  of  an  hour 
In  changing  hardiment  with  great  Glendower: 
Three  times  they  breathed  and  three  times  did  they 

drink, 

Upon  agreement,  of  swift  Severn's  flood ; 
Who  then,  affrighted  with  their  bloody  looks, 
Ran  fearfully  among  the  trembling  reeds, 
And  hid  his  crisp  head  in  the  hollow  bank 
Bloodstained  with  these  valiant  combatants. 
Never  did  base  and  rotten  policy 
Colour  her  working  with  such  deadly  wounds; 

no  Nor  never  could  the  noble  Mortimer 
Receive  so  many,  and  all  willingly : 
Then  let  not  him  be  slander'd  with  revolt. 

King.     Thou  dost  belie  him,  Percy,  thou  dost 

belie  him ; 

He  never  did  encounter  with  Glendower: 
I  tell  thee, 

He  durst  as  well  have  met  the  devil  alone 
As  Owen  Glendower  for  an  enemy. 
Art  thou  not  ashamed  ?     But,  sirrah,  henceforth 
Let  me  not  hear  you  speak  of  Mortimer  : 

120  Send  me  your  prisoners  with  the  speediest  means, 
Or  you  shall  hear  in  such  a  kind  from  me 
As  will  displease  you.     My  Lord  Northumberland, 
We  license  your  departure  with  your  son. 
Send  us  your  prisoners,  or  you  will  hear  of  it. 

[Exeunt  King  Henry,  Blunt,  and  train. 


NE  THREE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     17 


Hot.     An  if  the  devil  come  and  roar  for  them, 
I  will  not  send  them  :   I  will  after  straight 
And  tell  him  so  ;  for  I  will  ease  my  heart, 
Albeit  I  make  a  hazard  of  my  head. 

North.     What,  drunk  with  choler  ?  stay  and  pause 
awhile  : 

Here  comes  your  uncle. 

• 

Re-enter  WORCESTER 

Hot.  Speak  of  Mortimer  !  13 

'Zounds,  I  will  speak  of  him  ;  and  let  my  soul 
Want  mercy,  if  I  do  not  join  with  him  : 
Yea,  on  his  part  I  '11  empty  all  these  veins, 
And  shed  my  dear  blood  drop  by  drop  in  the  dust, 
But  I  will  lift  the  down-trod  Mortimer 
As  high  in  the  air  as  this  unthankful  king, 
As  this  ingrate  and  canker'd  Bolingbroke. 

North.     Brother,    the    king    hath    made    your 
nephew  mad. 

Wor.     Who  struck  this  heat  up  after  I  was  gone  ? 

Hot.     He  will,  forsooth,  have  all  my  prisoners  ;     uo 
And  when  I  urged  the  ransom  once  again 
Of  my  wife's  brother,  then  his  cheek  look'd  pale, 
And  on  my  face  he  turn'd  an  eye  of  death, 
Trembling  even  at  the  name  of  Mortimer. 

Wor.     I  cannot  blame  him  :    was  not  he  pro- 

claim'd 
By  Richard  that  dead  is  the  next  of  blood  ? 

North.     He  was  ;   I  heard  the  proclamation  : 
And  then  it  was  when  the  unhappy  king,  — 
WThose  wrongs  in  us  God  pardon  !  —  did  set  forth 
Upon  his  Irish  expedition  ;  150 

I 


18  KING   HENRY  THE   TOURTH     [ACT  ONE 

From  whence  he  intercepted  did  return 
To  he  deposed  and  shortly  murdered. 

Wor.     And  for  whose  death  we  in  the  world's 

wide  mouth 
Live  scandalized  and  foully  spoken  of. 

Hot.     But,  soft,  I  pray  you;   did  King  Richard 

then 

Proclaim  my  brother  Edmund  Mortimer 
Heir  to  the  crown  ? 

North.  He  did  ;   myself  did  hear  it. 

Hot.     Nay,  then  I  cannot  blame  his  cousin  king, 
That  wish'd  him  on  the  barren  mountains  starve. 
160  But  shall  it  be,  that  you,  that  set  the  crown 
Upon  the  head  of  this  forgetful  man 
And  for  his  sake  wear  the  detested  blot 
Of  murderous  subornation,  shall  it  be, 
That  you  a  world  of  curses  undergo, 
Being  the  agents,  or  base  second  means, 
The  cords,  the  ladder,  or  the  hangman  rather  ? 
O,  pardon  me  that  I  descend  so  low, 
To  show  the  line  and  the  predicament 
Wherein  you  range  under  this  subtle  king ; 
170  Shall  it  for  shame  be  spoken  in  these  days, 
Or  fill  up  chronicles  in  time  to  come, 
That  men  of  your  nobility  and  power 
Did  gage  them  both  in  an  unjust  behalf, 
As  both  of  you  —  God  pardon  it !  —  have  done, 
To  put  down  Richard,  that  sweet  lovely  rose, 
And  plant  this  thorn,  this  canker,  Bolingbroke? 
And  shall  it  in  more  shame  be  further  spoken, 
That  you  are  fool'd,  discarded  and  shook  off 
By  him  for  whom  these  shames  ye  underwent? 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH      19 

No ;  yet  time  serves  wherein  ye  may  redeem  iso 

Your  banish'd  honours  and  restore  yourselves 

Into  the  good  thoughts  of  the  world  again, 

Revenge  the  jeering  and  disdain'd  contempt 

Of  this  proud  king,  who  studies  day  and  night 

To  answer  all  the  debt  he  owes  to  you 

Even  with  the  bloody  payment  of  your  deaths : 

Therefore,  I  say,  — 

Wor.  Peace,  cousin,  say  no  more : 

And  now  I  will  unclasp  a  secret  book, 
And  to  your  quick-conceiving  discontents 
I  '11  read  you  matter  deep  and  dangerous,  100 

As  full  of  peril  and  adventurous  spirit 
As  to  o'er- walk  a  current  roaring  loud 
On  the  unsteadfast  footing  of  a  spear. 

Hot.     If  he  fall  in,  good-night !  or  sink  or  swim  : 
Send  danger  from  the  east  unto  the  west, 
So  honour  cross  it  from  the  north  to  south, 
And  let  them  grapple :  O,  the  blood  more  stirs 
To  rouse  a  lion  than  to  start  a  hare ! 

North.     Imagination  of  some  great  exploit 
Drives  him  beyond  the  bounds  of  patience.  200 

Hot.     By  heaven,  methinks  it  were  an  easy  leap, 
To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon, 
Or  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 
Where  fathom-line  could  never  touch  the  ground, 
And  pluck  up  drowned  honour  by  the  locks ; 
So  he  that  doth  redeem  her  thence  might  wear 
Without  corrival  all  her  dignities : 
But  out  upon  this  half -faced  fellowship  ! 

Wor.    He  apprehends  a  world  of  figures  here, 
But  not  the  form  of  what  he  should  attend.  210 


20  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [An  ON. 

(Jood  cousin,  give  me  audience  for  a  while. 

Hot.     I  cry  you  mercy. 

\Vor.  Those  same  noble  Scots 

That  I  have  prisoners,  — 

Hot.  I  '11  keep  them  all ; 

By  God,  he  shall  not  have  a  Scot  of  them ; 
No,  if  a  Scot  would  save  his  soul,  he  shall  not : 
I  '11  keep  them,  by  this  hand. 

War.  You  start  away 

And  lend  no  ear  unto  my  purposes. 
Those  prisoners  you  shall  keep. 

Hot.  Nay,  I  will;   that's  flat. 

He  said  he  would  not  ransom  Mortimer; 
220  Forbad  my  tongue  to  speak  of  Mortimer; 
But  I  will  find  him  when  he  lies  asleep, 
And  in  his  ear  I  '11  holla  "Mortimer!" 
Nay, 

I  '11  have  a  starling  shall  be  taught  to  speak 
Nothing  but  "Mortimer,"  and  give  it  him, 
To  keep  his  anger  still  in  motion. 

Wor.     Hear  you,  cousin;   a  word. 

Hot.     All  studies  here  I  solemnly  defy, 
Save  how  to  gall  and  pinch  this  Bolingbroke : 
230  And  that  same  sword-and-bucklcr  Prince  of  Wales, 
But  that  I  think  his  father  loves  him  not 
And  would  be  glad  he  met  with  some  mischance, 
I  would  have  him  jxmon'd  with  a  pot  of  ale. 

Wor.     Farewell,  kinsman  :    I  '11  talk  to  you 
When  you  ar?  better  temper'd  to  attend. 

North.     Why,  what  a  wasp-stung  and  impatient 

fool 
Art  thou  to  break  into  this  woman's  mood, 


SCENE  THREE]      KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      21 

Tying  thine  ear  to  no  tongue  but  thine  own  ! 

Hot.     Why,  look  you,  I  am  whipp'd  and  scourged 

with  rods, 

Nettled  and  stung  with  pismires,  when  I  hear  240 

Of  this  vile  politician,  Bolingbroke. 
In  Richard's  time,  —  what  do  you  call  the  place  ?  — 
A  plague  upon  it,  it  is  in  Gloucestershire ; 
'T  was  where  the  madcap  duke  his  uncle  kept, 
His  uncle  York ;   where  I  first  bow'd  my  knee 
Unto  this  king  of  smiles,  this  Bolingbroke,  — 
'Sblood !  - 
When  you  and  he  came  back  from  Ravenspurgh. 

North.     At  Berkley  castle. 

Hot.     You  say  true :  250 

Why,  what  a  candy  deal  of  courtesy 
This  fawning  greyhound  then  did  proffer  me ! 
Look,  "when  his  infant  fortune  came  to  age," 
And  "gentle  Harry  Percy,"  and  "kind  cousin"; 
O,  the  devil  take  such  cozeners  !     God  forgive  me  ! 
Good  uncle,  tell  your  tale ;  I  have  done. 

Wor.     Nay,  if  you  have  not,  to  it  again ; 
We  will  stay  your  leisure. 

Hot.  I  have  done,  i'  faith. 

Wor.     Then  once  more  to  your  Scottish  prisoners. 
Deliver  them  up  without  their  ransom  straight,        260 
And  make  the  Douglas'  son  your  only  mean 
For  powers  in  Scotland ;  which,  for  divers  reasons 
Which  I  shall  send  you  written,  be  assured, 
Will  easily  be  granted.     You,  my  lord, 

[To  Northumberland. 

Your  son  in  Scotland  being  thus  employ'd, 
Shall  secretly  into  the  bosom  creep 


22  KING  HENRY  THE  TOURTH     [Arr  Two 

Of  that  same  noble  prelate,  well  beloved, 
The  archbishop. 

Hot.     Of  York,  is  it  not  ? 
270      \\'or.     True;   who  bears  hard 

His  brother's  death  at  Bristol,  the  Lord  Scroop. 

I  speak  not  this  in  estimation, 

As  what  I  think  might  be,  but  what  I  know 

Is  ruminated,  plotted  and  set  down, 

And  only  stays  but  to  l>ehold  the  face 

Of  that  occasion  that  shall  bring  it  on. 

Hot.     I  smell  it :   upon  my  life,  it  will  do  well. 

North.     Before  the  game  is  afoot,  thou  still  let'st 
slip. 

Hot.     Why,  it  cannot  choose  but  be  a  noble  plot : 
280  And  then  the  power  of  Scotland  and  of  York, 
To  join  with  Mortimer,  ha  ? 

Wor.  And  so  they  shall. 

Hot.     In  faith,  it  is  exceedingly  well  aim'd. 

Wor.     And  't  is  no  little  reason  bids  us  speed, 
To  save  our  heads  by  raising  of  a  head ; 
For,  bear  ourselves  as  even  as  we  can, 
The  king  will  always  think  him  in  our  debt, 
And  think  we  think  ourselves  unsatisfied, 
Till  he  hath  found  a  time  to  pay  us  home : 
And  see  already  how  he  doth  begin 
290  To  make  us  strangers  to  his  looks  of  love. 

Hot.     He  does,  he  does :    we  '11  be  revenged  on 
him. 

Wor.     Cousin,  farewell :   no  further  go  in  this 
Than  I  by  letters  shall  direct  your  course. 
When  time  is  ripe,  which  will  be  suddenly, 
I  '11  steal  to  Glendower  and  Lord  Mortimer: 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         23 

Where  you  and  Douglas  and  our  powers  at  once, 
As  I  will  fashion  it,  shall  happily  meet, 
To  bear  our  fortunes  in  our  own  strong  arms, 
Which  now  we  hold  at  much  uncertainty. 

North.     Farewell,  good  brother  :  we  shall  thrive, 

I  trust.  aoo 

Hot.     Uncle,  adieu  :  O,  let  the  hours  be  short 
Till  fields  and  blows  and  groans  applaud  our  sport ! 

[Exeunt. 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I  —  Rochester.     An  inn  yard 
Enter  a  Carrier  with  a  lantern  in  his  hand 

First  Car.  Heigh-ho !  an  it  be  not  four  by 
the  day,  I  '11  be  hanged :  Charles'  wain  is  over 
the  new  chimney,  and  yet  our  horse  not  packed. 
What,  ostler! 

Ost.     [Within]  Anon,  anon. 

First  Car.  I  prithee,  Tom,  beat  Cut's  saddle, 
put  a  few  flocks  in  the  point ;  poor  jade,  is  wrung 
in  the  withers  out  of  all  cess. 

Enter  another  Carrier 

Sec.   Car.     Peas   and  beans  are  as  dank  here 
as  a  dog,  and  that  is  the  next  way  to  give  poono 
jades  the  bots :    this  house  is  turned  upside  down 
since  Robin  Ostler  died. 

First  Car.  Poor  fellow,  never  joyed  since  the 
price  of  oats  rose ;  it  was  the  death  of  him. 

Sec.  Car.     I  think  this  be  the  most  villanous 


*4  KING   HENRY   THE   FOritTII     [ACT  Two 

house  in  all  London  road  for  fleas  :    I  am  stung 

like  a  tench. 

First  Car.     Like  a   tench  !  by   the   mass,   there 

is  ne'er  a  king  christen  could  1*;  better  bit  than  I 
20  have    been    since    the    first    cock.     What,    ostler ! 

come  away  and  be  hanged  !  come  away. 

Sec.  Car.     I  have  a  gammon  of  bacon  and  two 

razes  of  ginger,  to  be  delivered  as  far  as  Charing- 

cross. 

First    Car.     God's    body !    the    turkeys    in    my 
30 pannier   are   quite   starved.       What,    ostler!       A 

plague  on   thee !  hast   thou   never  an  eye  in   thy 

head  ?  canst   not  hear  ?     An  't  were  not  as  g(x>d 

deed  as  drink,  to  break  the  pate  on  thee,  I  am  a 

very    villain.     Come,    and    be    hanged !    hast    no 

faith  in  thee? 

Enter  GADSHILL 

Gads,     (rood  morrow,  carriers.    What 's  o'clock? 

First  Car.     I  think  it  be  two  o'clock. 

Gads.  I  prithee,  lend  me  thy  lantern,  to  see 
my  gelding  in  the  stable. 

40     First    Car.     Nay,    by    God,    soft ;     I    know    a 
trick  worth  two  of  that,  i'  faith. 

Gads.     I  pray  thee,  lend  me  thine. 

Sec.  Car.  Ay,  when  ?  canst  tell  ?  I/end  me  thy 
lantern,  quoth  he?  marry,  I  '11  see  thee  hanged 
first. 

Gads.  Sirrah  carrier,  what  time  do  you  mean 
to  come  to  London  ? 

•SVc.  Car.  Time  enough  to  go  to  bed  with  a 
candle,  I  warrant  thee.  Come,  neighbour  Mugs, 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        25 

we  '11  call  up  the  gentlemen  :    they  will  along  with  50 
company,  for  they  have  great  charge. 

[Exeunt  Carriers. 

Gads.     AVhat,  ho  !  chamberlain  ! 

Cham.     [Within]  At  hand,  quoth  pick-purse. 

Gads.  That 's  even  as  fair  as  —  at  hand,  quoth 
the  chamberlain ;  for  thou  variest  no  more  from 
picking  of  purses  than  giving  direction  doth  from 
labouring;  thou  layest  the  plot  how. 

••':i 
Enter  Chamberlain 

Cham.  Good  morrow,  Master  Gadshill.  It 
holds  current  that  I  told  you  yesternight :  there  's 
a  franklin  in  the  wild  of  Kent  hath  brought  three  eo 
hundred  marks  with  him  in  gold :  I  heard  him 
tell  it  to  one  of  his  company  last  night  at  supper; 
a  kind  of  auditor;  one  that  hath  abundance  of 
charge  too,  God  knows  what.  They  are  up 
already,  and  call  for  eggs  and  butter :  they  will 
away  presently. 

Gads.  Sirrah,  if  they  meet  not  with  Saint 
Nicholas'  clerks,  I  '11  give  thee  this  neck. 

Cham.     No,  I  '11  none  of  it :    I  pray  thee,  keep 
that  for  the  hangman ;    for  I  know  thou  worship-  70 
pest  Saint  Nicholas  as  truly  as  a  man  of  falsehood 

I  may. 
Gads.  What  talkest  thou  to  me  of  the  hang- 
man ?  if  I  hang,  I  '11  make  a  fat  pair  of  gallows ; 
for  if  I  hang,  old  Sir  John  hangs  with  me,  and 
thou  knowest  he  is  no  starveling.  Tut !  there 
are  other  Trojans  that  thou  dreamest  not  of,  the 
which  for  sport  sake  are  content  to  do  the  pro- 


26  KING   HENRY  THE   FOrilTH     [An  Two 

fession  some  grace;  that  would,  if  matters  should 
<wl>e  looked  into,  for  their  own  credit  sake,  make 
all  whole.  I  am  joined  with  no  foot  land-rakers, 
no  long-staff  sixpenny  strikers,  none  of  these  mad 
mustachio  purple-hued  malt-worms;  hut  with 
nobility  and  tranquillity,  burgomasters  and  great 
oneyers,  such  as  can  hold  in,  such  as  will  strike 
sooner  than  s{>eak,  and  speak  sooner  than  drink, 
and  drink  sooner  than  pray  :  and  yet,  'zounds,  I 
lie;  for  they  pray  continually  to  their  saint,  the 
commonwealth ;  or  rather,  not  pray  to  her,  but 
90  prey  on  her,  for  they  ride  up  and  down  on  her 
and  make  her  their  boots. 

Cham.  What,  the  commonwealth  their  boots? 
will  she  hold  out  water  in  foul  way? 

Gads.  She  will,  she  will ;  justice  hath  liquored 
her.  We  steal  as  in  a  castle,  cock-sure ;  we  have 
the  receipt  of  fern-seed,  we  walk  invisible. 

Cham.  Nay,  by  my  faith,  I  think  you  are 
more  beholding  to  the  night  than  to  fern-seed  for 
your  walking  invisible. 

100      Gads.     Give  me  thy  hand :    thou  shalt  have  a 
share  in  our  purchase,  as  I  am  a  true  man. 

Cham.  Nay,  rather  let  me  have  it,  as  you  are 
a  false  thief. 

Gads.  Go  to;  "homo"  is  a  common  name  to 
all  men.  Bid  the  ostler  bring  my  gelding  out  of 
the  stable.  Farewell,  you  muddy  knave. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        27 

SCENE  II  —  The  highway,  near  Gadshill 
Enter  PRINCE  HENRY  and  POINS 

Poins.     Come,  shelter,  shelter  :   I  have  removed 
Falstaff's  horse,  and  he  frets  like  a  gummed  velvet. 
Prince.     Stand  close. 

Enter  FALSTAFF 

Fal.     Poins  !     Poins,  and  be  hanged  !     Poins  ! 

Prince.     Peace,  ye  fat-kidneyed  rascal !  what  a 
brawling  dost  thou  keep  ! 

Fal.     Where 's  Poins,  Hal  ? 

Prince.     He  is   walked  up  to  the  top  of  the 
hill :   I  '11  go  seek  him. 

Fal.  I  am  accursed  to  rob  in  that  thief's  com-  10 
pany :  the  rascal  hath  removed  my  horse,  and 
tied  him  I  know  not  where.  If  I  travel  but  four 
foot  by  the  squier  further  afoot,  I  shall  break  my 
wind.  Well,  I  doubt  not  but  to  die  a  fair  death 
for  all  this,  if  I  'scape  hanging  for  killing  that 
rogue.  I  have  forsworn  his  company  hourly  any 
time  this  two  and  twenty  years,  and  yet  I  am 
bewitched  with  the  rogue's  company.  If  the 
rascal  have  not  given  me  medicines  to  make  me 
love  him,  I  '11  be  hanged ;  it  could  not  be  else ;  1 20 
have  drunk  medicines.  Poins !  Hal !  a  plague 
upon  you  both  !  Bardolph  !  Peto  !  I  '11  starve 
ere  I  '11  rob  a  foot  further.  An  't  were  not  as  good 
a  deed  as  drink,  to  turn  true  man  and  to  leave 
these  rogues,  I  am  the  veriest  varlet  that  ever 
chewed  with  a  tooth.  Eight  yards  of  uneven 


*8  KING   HENRY  THE   FOIRTH     [An  Two 

ground  is  threescore  and  ten  miles  afoot  with  me; 
and  the  stony-hearted  villains  know  it  well 
enough  :  a  plague  uixm  it  when  thieves  cannot  l>e 
so  true  one  to  another!  [They  whistle.]  Whew! 
A  plague  upon  you  all !  Give  me  my  horse,  you 
rogues ;  give  me  my  horse,  and  he  hanged ! 

Prince.  Peace,  ye  fat-guts !  lie  down ;  lay 
thine  ear  close  to  the  ground  and  list  if  thou  canst 
hear  the  tread  of  travellers. 

Fed.  Have  you  any  levers  to  lift  me  up  again, 
being  down  ?  'Sblood,  I  '11  not  bear  mine  own  flesh 
so  far  afoot  again  for  all  the  coin  in  thy  father's  ex- 
40  chequer.  What  a  plague  mean  ye  to  colt  me  thus  ? 

Prince.  Thou  liest;  thou  art  not  colted,  thou 
art  uncolted. 

Fal.  I  prithee,  good  Prince  Hal,  help  me  to 
my  horse,  good  king's  son. 

Prince.     Out,  ye  rogue !  shall  I  be  your  ostler  ? 

Fal.  Go,  hang  thyself  in  thine  own  heir-ap- 
parent garters !  If  I  be  ta'en,  I  '11  peach  for  this. 
An  I  have  not  ballads  made  on  you  all  and  sung 
to  filthy  tunes,  let  a  cup  of  sack  be  my  poison : 
50  when  a  jest  is  so  forward,  and  afoot  too  !  I  hate  it. 

Enter  GADSIIILL,  BAKDOLPH  and  PETO  with  him 

Gads.     Stand. 

Fed.     So  I  do,  against  my  will. 

Poins.  O,  't  is  our  setter :  I  know  his  voice. 
Bardolph,  what  news? 

Bard.  Case  ye,  case  ye;  on  with  your  vizards: 
there  's  money  of  the  king's  coining  down  the 
hill;  't  is  going  to  the  king's  exchequer. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        29 

Fal.  You  lie,  you  rogue ;  't  is  going  to  the  king's 
tavern. 

Gads.     There  's  enough  to  make  us  all.  GO 

Fal.     To  be  hanged. 

Prince.  Sirs,  you  four  shall  front  them  in  the 
narrow  lane;  Ned  Poins  and  I  will  walk  lower: 
if  they  'scape  from  your  encounter,  then  they 
light  on  us. 

Peto.     How  many  be  there  of  them  ? 

Gads.     Some  eight  or  ten. 

Fal.     'Zounds,  will  they  not  rob  us  ? 

Prince.     What,  a  coward,  Sir  John  Paunch  ? 

Fal.     Indeed,  I  am  not  John  of  Gaunt,  yourro 
grandfather ;   but  yet  no  coward,  Hal. 

Prince.     Well,  we  leave  that  to  the  proof. 

Poins.  Sirrah  Jack,  thy  horse  stands  behind 
the  hedge :  when  thou  needest  him,  there  thou 
shalt  find  him.  Farewell,  and  stand  fast. 

Fal.  Now  cannot  I  strike  him,  if  I  should  be 
hanged. 

Prince.     Ned,  where  are  our  disguises  ? 

Poins.     Here,  hard  by  :  stand  close. 

[Exeunt  Prince  and  Poins. 

Fal.     Now,    my    masters,    happy    man    be    his  so 
dole,  say  I :   every  man  to  his  business. 

Enter  the  Travellers 

First  Trav.  Come,  neighbour :  the  boy  shall 
lead  our  horses  down  the  hill ;  we  '11  walk  afoot 
awhile,  and  ease  our  legs. 

Thieves.     Stand ! 

Travellers.     Jesus  bless  us  ! 


30  KING  HENRY  THE  FOITITH     [ACT  Two 

Fal.     Strike ;    down   with    them ;    cut   the   vil- 
lains' throats  :    ah  !  whoreson  caterpillars  !  bacon- 
fetl  knaves  !  they  hate  us  youth  :  down  with  them  : 
90  fleece  them. 

Travellers.  O,  we  are  undone,  both  we  and 
ours  for  ever ! 

Fal.  Hang  ye,  gorl>ellied  knaves,  are  ye  un- 
done? No,  ye  fat  chuffs;  I  would  your  store 
were  here  !  On,  bacons,  on  !  What,  ye  knaves  ! 
young  men  must  live.  You  are  grandjurors,  are 
ye?  we  '11  jure  ye,  'faith. 

[Here  they  rob  them  and  bind  them.     Exeunt. 

Re-enter  PRINCE  HENRY  and  POINS 

Prince.     The  thieves  have  bound  the  true  men. 

Now  could  thou  and   I  rob  the  thieves  and  go 

oo  merrily  to  London,   it  would  be  argument  for  a 

week,  laughter  for  a  month  and  a  good  jest  for  ever. 

Poins.     Stand  close ;   I  hear  them  coining. 

Enter  the  Thieves  again 

Fal.  Come,  my  masters,  let  us  share,  and  then 
to  horse  before  day.  An  the  Prince  and  Poins 
be  not  two  arrant  cowards,  there  's  no  equity  stir- 
ring :  there  's  no  more  valour  in  that  Poins  than 
in  a  wild-duck. 

Prince.     Your  money ! 
no     Poins.     Villains! 

[As  they  are  sharing,  the  Prince  and  Poins 
set  upon  them;  they  all  run  away;  and 
Falstaff,  after  a  blow  or  two,  runs  away 
too,  leaving  the  booty  behind  them. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     31 

Prince.     Got  with  much  ease.     Now  merrily  to 

horse : 

The  thieves  are  all  scatter'd  and  possess'd  with  fear 
So  strongly  that  they  dare  not  meet  each  other ; 
Each  takes  his  fellow  for  an  officer. 
Away,  good  Ned.     Falstaff  sweats  to  death, 
And  lards  the  lean  earth  as  he  walks  along : 
Were  't  not  for  laughing,  I  should  pity  him. 

Poins.     How  the  rogue  roar'd !  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Warkworth  castle 
Enter  HOTSPUB,  solus,  reading  a  letter 

Hot.  "But,  for  mine  own  part,  my  lord,  I  could 
be  well  contented  to  be  there,  in  respect  of  the 
love  I  bear  your  house."  He  could  be  contented : 
why  is  he  not,  then?  In  respect  of  the  love  he 
bears  our  house :  he  shows  in  this,  he  loves  his 
own  barn  better  than  he  loves  our  house.  Let  me 
see  some  more.  "The  purpose  you  undertake  is 
dangerous  " ;  —  why,  that 's  certain  :  't  is  dangerous 
to  take  a  cold,  to  sleep,  to  drink;  but  I  tell  you, 
my  lord  fool,  out  of  this  nettle,  danger,  we  pluck  10 
this  flower,  safety.  "The  purpose  you  undertake 
is  dangerous;  the  friends  you  have  named  un- 
certain ;  the  time  itself  unsorted ;  and  your  whole 
plot  too  light  for  the  counterpoise  of  so  great  an 
opposition."  Say  you  so,  say  you  so  ?  I  say  unto 
you  again,  you  are  a  shallow  cowardly  hind,  and 
you  lie.  What  a  lack-brain  is  this !  By  the  Lord, 
our  plot  is  a  good  plot  as  ever  was  laid;  our 
friends  true  and  constant :  a  good  plot,  good 


32  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [A<T  Two 

jo  friends,  and  full  of  expectation;  an  excellent  plot, 
very  good  friends.  What  a  frosty-spirited  rogue 
is  this !  Why,  my  lord  of  York  commends  the 
plot  and  the  general  course  of  the  action.  'Zounds, 
an  I  were  now  by  this  rascal,  I  could  brain  him 
with  his  lady's  fan.  Is  there  not  my  father,  my 
uncle  and  myself?  lord  Edmund  Mortimer,  my 
lord  of  York  and  Owen  Glendower?  is  there  not 
besides  the  Douglas?  have  I  not  all  their  letters 
to  meet  me  in  arms  by  the  ninth  of  the  next 

so  month?  and  are  they  not  some  of  them  set  for- 
ward already  ?  What  a  pagan  rascal  is  this !  an 
infidel !  Ha  !  you  shall  see  now  in  very  sincerity 
of  fear  and  cold  heart,  will  he  to  the  king  and 
lay  open  all  our  proceedings.  (),  I  could  divide 
myself  and  go  to  buffets,  for  moving  such  a  dish 
of  skim  milk  with  so  honourable  an  action  !  Hang 
him  !  let  him  tell  the  king :  we  are  prepared.  I 
will  set  forward  to-night. 

Enter  LADY  PERCY 

How  now,  Kate !     I  must  leave  you  within  these 

two  hours. 

40     Lady.     O,  my  good  lord,  why  are  you  thus  alone  ? 
For  what  offence  have  I  this  fortnight  l>een 
A  banish'd  woman  from  my  Harry's  l>ed  ? 
Tell  me,  sweet  lord,  what  is  't  that  takes  from  thee 
Thy  stomach,  pleasure  and  thy  golden  sleep? 
Why  dost  thou  bend  thine  eyes  upon  the  earth, 
And  start  so  often  when  thou  sit'st  alone  ? 
Why  hast  thou  lost  the  fresh  blood  in  chy  cheeks; 
And  given  my  treasures  and  my  rights  of  thee 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     33 

To  thick-eyed  musing  and  cursed  melancholy  ? 

In  thy  faint  slumbers  I  by  thee  have  watch'd,  so 

And  heard  thee  murmur  tales  of  iron  wars ; 

Speak  terms  of  manage  to  thy  bounding  steed ; 

Cry  "  Courage  !  to  the  field  ! "     And  thou  hast  talk'd 

Of  sallies  and  retires,  of  trenches,  tents, 

Of  pasiladoes,  frontiers,  parapets, 

Of  basilisks,  of  cannon,  culverin, 

Of  prisoners'  ransom  and  of  soldiers  slain, 

And  all  the  currents  of  a  heady  fight. 

Thy  spirit  within  thee  hath  been  so  at  war 

And  thus  hath  so  bestirr'd  thee  in  thy  sleep,  60 

That  beads  of  sweat  have  stood  upon  thy  brow, 

Like  bubbles  in  a  late-disturbed  stream ; 

And  in  thy  face  strange  motions  have  appear'd, 

Such  as  we  see  when  men  restrain  their  breath 

On  some  great  sudden  hest.     O,  what  portents  are 

these  ? 

Some  heavy  business  hath  my  lord  in  hand, 
And  I  must  know  it,  else  he  loves  me  not. 
Hot.    What,  ho ! 

Enter  Servant 

Is  Gilliams  with  the  packet  gone  ? 
Serv.     He  is,  my  lord,  an  hour  ago. 
Hot.     Hath  Butler  brought  those  horses  from  the 

sheriff  ?  70 

Serv.  One  horse,  my  lord,  he  brought  even  now. 
Hot.  What  horse  ?  a  roan,  a  crop-ear,  is  it  not  ? 
Serv.  It  is,  my  lord. 

Hot.  That  roan  shall  be  my  throne. 

Well,  I  will  back  him  straight :  O  esperance ! 


34  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [A<T  Two 

Bid  Butler  lead  him  forth  into  the  park. 

[Exit  Servant. 

Lady.     But  hear  you,  my  lord. 

Hot.     What  say'st  thou,  my  lady  ? 

Lady.     What  is  it  carries  you  away  ? 

Hot.     Why,  my  horse,  my  love,  my  horse. 
so     Lady.     Out,  you  mad-headed  aj)e  ! 
A  weasel  hath  not  such  a  deal  of  spleen 
As  you  are  toss'd  with.     In  faith, 
I  '11  know  your  business,  Harry,  that  I  will. 
I  fear  my  brother  Mortimer  doth  stir 
About  his  title,  and  hath  sent  for  you 
To  line  his  enterprize  :  but  if  you  go,  — 

Hot.     So  far  afoot,  I  shall  be  weary,  love. 

Lady.     Come,  come,  you  paraquito,  answer  me 
Directly  unto  this  question  that  I  ask  : 
90  In  faith,  I  '11  break  thy  little  finger,  Harry, 
An  if  thou  wilt  not  tell  me  all  things  true. 

Hot.    Away, 

Away,  you  trifler  !     Love  !     I  love  thee  not, 
I  care  not  for  thee,  Kate :  this  is  no  world 
To  play  with  mammets  and  to  tilt  with  lips : 
We  must  have  bloody  noses  and  crack'd  crowns, 
And  pass  them  current  too.     God's  me,  my  horse ! 
What  say'st  thou,  Kate?  what  would'st  thou  have 
with  me  ? 

Lady.     Do  you  not  love  me  ?  do  you  not,  indeed  ? 
100  Well,  do  not  then ;  for  since  you  love  me  not, 
I  will  not  love  myself.     Do  you  not  love  me  ? 
Nay,  tell  me  if  you  speak  in  jest  or  no. 

Hot.     Come,  wilt  thou  see  me  ride  ? 
And  when  I  am  o'  horseback,  I  will  swear 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH        35 

I  love  thee  infinitely.     But  hark  you,  Kate ; 

I  must  not  have  you  henceforth  question  me 

Whither  I  go,  nor  reason  whereabout : 

Whither  I  must,  I  must ;   and,  to  conclude, 

This  evening  must  I  leave  you,  gentle  Kate. 

I  know  you  wise,  but  yet  no  farther  wise  no 

Than  Harry  Percy's  wife :  constant  you  are, 

But  yet  a  woman  :  and  for  secrecy, 

No  lady  closer ;  for  I  well  believe 

Thou  wilt  not  utter  what  thou  dost  not  know ; 

And  so  far  will  I  trust  thee,  gentle  Kate. 

Lady.     How !     so  far  ? 

Hot.     Not  an  inch  further.     But  hark  you,  Kate : 
Whither  I  go,  thither  shall  you  go  too ; 
To-day  will  I  set  forth,  to-morrow  you. 
Will  this  content  you,  Kate  ? 

Lady.  It  must  of  force.        120 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV  —  The  Boar's-Head  Tavern,  Eastcheap 
Enter  the  PRINCE  and  POINS 

Prince.  Ned,  prithee,  come  out  of  that  fat 
room,  and  lend  me  thy  hand  to  laugh  a  little. 

Pains.     Where  hast  been,  Hal  ? 

Prince.  With  three  or  four  loggerheads 
amongst  three  or  four  score  hogsheads.  I  have 
sounded  the  very  base-string  of  humility.  Sirrah, 
I  am  sworn  brother  to  a  leash  of  drawers;  and 
can  call  them  all  by  their  christen  names,  as 
Tom,  Dick,  and  Francis.  They  take  it  already 


30  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

10  upon  their  salvation,  that  though  I  be  but  Prince 
of  Wales,  yet  I  am  the  king  of  courtesy ;  and 
tell  me  flatly  I  am  no  proud  Jack,  like  Falstaff, 
but  a  Corinthian,  a  lad  of  mettle,  a  good  boy,  by 
the  Lord,  so  they  call  me,  and  when  I  am  king 
of  England,  I  shall  command  all  the  good  lads  in 
Eastcheap.  They  call  drinking  deep,  dyeing 
scarlet;  and  when  you  breathe  in  your  watering, 
they  cry  "hem!"  and  bid  you  play  it  off.  To 
conclude,  I  am  so  good  a  proficient  in  one  quarter 

20  of  an  hour,  that  I  can  drink  with  any  tinker  in 
his  own  language  during  my  life.  I  tell  thee, 
Ned,  thou  hast  lost  much  honour,  that  thou  wert 
not  with  me  in  this  action.  But,  sweet  Ned,  —  to 
sweeten  which  name  of  Ned,  I  give  thee  this 
pennyworth  of  sugar,  clapped  even  now  into  my 
hand  by  an  under-skinker,  one  that  never  spoke 
other  English  in  his  life  than  "Eight  shillings 
and  sixpence,"  and  "You  are  welcome,"  with  this 
shrill  addition,  "Anon,  anon,  sir!  Score  a  pint 

30  of  bastard  in  the  Half-moon,"  or  so.  But,  Ned, 
to  drive  away  the  time  till  Falstaff  come,  I 
prithee,  do  thou  stand  in  some  by-room,  while 
I  question  my  puny  drawer  to  what  end  he  gave 
me  the  sugar;  and  do  thou  never  leave  calling 
"Francis,"  that  his  tale  to  me  may  be  nothing 
but  "Anon."  Step  aside,  and  I  '11  show  thee  a 
precedent. 

Poins.     Francis ! 

Prince.     Thou  art  perfect. 

40     Poins.    Francis !  [Exit  Poins. 

Enter  FRANCIS 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       37 

Fran.     Anon,  anon,  sir.     Look  down  into  the 
Pomgarnet,  Ralph. 

Prince.     Come  hither,  Francis. 

Fran.     My  lord? 

Prince.     How  long  hast  thou  to  serve,  Francis  ? 

Fran.  Forsooth,  five  years,  and  as  much  as 
to  — 

Pains.     [Within]  Francis ! 

Fran.     Anon,  anon,  sir. 

Prince.     Five    year!    by  'r    lady,    a  long  lease 50 
for  the  clinking  of  pewter.     But,  Francis,  darest 
thou  be  so  valiant  as  to  play  the  coward  with  thy 
indenture  and  show  it  a  fair  pair  of  heels  and  run 
from  it  ? 

Fran.  O  Lord,  sir,  I  '11  be  sworn  upon  all 
the  books  in  England,  I  could  find  in  my  heart. 

Pains.     [Within]  Francis ! 

Fran.     Anon,  sir. 

Prince.     How  old  art  thou,  Francis? 

Fran.     Let   me   see  —  about   Michaelmas   next  eo 
I  shall  be  — 

Poins.     [Within]  Francis ! 

Fran.     Anon,  sir.     Pray  stay  a  little,  my  lord. 

Prince.  Nay,  but  hark  you,  Francis :  for  the 
sugar  thou  gavest  me,  't  was  a  pennyworth, 
was  't  not? 

Fran.     O  Lord,  I  would  it  had  been  two ! 

Prince.  I  will  give  thee  for  it  a  thousand 
pound :  ask  me  when  thou  wilt,  and  thou  shalt 
have  it.  TO 

Poins.     [Within]  Francis ! 

Fran.     Anon,  anon. 


38  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

Prince.  Anon,  Francis  ?  No,  Francis ;  but  to- 
morrow, Francis ;  or  Francis,  o'  Thursday ;  or 
indeed,  Francis,  when  thou  wilt.  But,  Francis ! 

Fran.     My  lord? 

Prince.  Wilt  thou  rob  this  leathern  jerkin, 
crystal-button,  not-pated,  agate-ring,  puke-stock- 
ing, caddis-garter,  smooth-tongue,  Spanish- 
80  pouch,  — 

Fran.     O  Lord,  sir,  who  do  you  mean  ? 

Prince.  Why,  then,  your  brown  bastard  is  your 
only  drink ;  for  look  you,  Francis,  your  white 
canvas  doublet  will  sully:  in  Barbary,  sir,  it 
cannot  come  to  so  much. 

Fran.     What,  sir? 

Poins.     [Within]  Francis ! 

Prince.     Away,  you  rogue !  dost  thou  not  hear 

them  call  ?      [Here  they  both   call  him ;    the  drawer 

stands  amazed,  not  knmring  ichich  way  to  go. 

Enter  Vintner 

90  Vint.  What,  standest  thou  still,  and  hearest 
such  a  calling?  Look  to  the  guests  within. 
[Exit  Francis.]  My  lord,  old  Sir  John,  with 
half-a-dozen  more,  are  at  the  door :  shall  I  let 
them  in? 

Prince.  Let  them  alone  awhile,  and  then 
open  the  door.  [Exit  Vintner.]  Poins ! 

Re-enter  POINS 

Poins.     Anon,  anon,  sir. 

Prince.  Sirrah,  Falstaff  and  the  rest  of  the 
thieves  are  at  the  door:  shall  we  be  merry? 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       39 

Poins.    As  merry  as  crickets,  my  lad.    But  hark  100 
ye ;   what  cunning  match  have  you  made  with  this 
jest  of  the  drawer  ?  come,  what  's  the  issue  ? 

Prince.  I  am  now  of  all  humours  that  have 
showed  themselves  humours  since  the  old  days 
of  goodman  Adam  to  the  pupil  age  of  this  present 
twelve  o'clock  at  midnight. 

Re-enter  FRANCIS 

What  's  o'clock,  Francis  ? 

Fran.     Anon,  anon,  sir.  [Exit. 

Prince.  That  ever  this  fellow  should  have  no 
fewer  words  than  a  parrot,  and  yet  the  son  of 
a  woman !  His  industry  is  up-stairs  and  down- 
stairs; his  eloquence  the  parcel  of  a  reckoning. 
I  am  not  yet  of  Percy's  mind,  the  Hotspur  of 
the  north;  he  that  kills  me  some  six  or  seven 
dozen  of  Scots  at  a  breakfast,  washes  his  hands, 
and  says  to  his  wife  "Fie  upon  this  quiet  life!  I 
want  work."  "O  my  sweet  Harry,"  says  she, 
"how  many  hast  thou  killed  to-day?"  "Give  my 
roan  horse  a  drench,"  says  he ;  and  answers  120 
"Some  fourteen,"  an  hour  after;  "a  trifle,  a 
trifle."  I  prithee,  call  in  Falstaff:  I  '11  play 
Percy,  and  that  damned  brawn  shall  play  Dame 
Mortimer  his  wife.  "Rivo!"  says  the  drunkard. 
Call  in  ribs,  call  in  tallow. 

Enter  FALSTAFF,  GADSHILL,  BARDOLPH,  and 
PETO  ;     FRANCIS  following  with  wine 

Poins.     Welcome,  Jack  :  where  hast  thou  been  ? 
Fal.     A    plague    of    all    cowards,    I    say,    and 


10  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

a   vengeance   too !   marry,   and   amen !     Give   me 
a  cup  of  sack,   hoy.     Ere  I   lead  this  life  long, 

no  I  '11  sew  nether  stocks  and  mend  them  and  foot 
them  too.  A  plague  of  all  cowards !  (Jive  me  a 
cup  of  sack,  rogue.  Is  there  no  virtue  extant  ? 

[He  drinks. 

Prince.  Didst  thou  ever  see  Titan  kiss  a 
dish  of  butter?  pitiful-hearted  Titan,  that  melted 
at  the  sweet  tale  of  the  sun's !  if  thou  didst,  then 
behold  that  compound. 

Fal.  You  rogue,  here  's  lime  in  this  sack  too : 
there  is  nothing  but  roguery  to  be  found  in  vil- 
lanous  man :  yet  a  coward  is  worse  than  a  cup  of 

140  sack  with  lime  in  it.  A  villanous  coward !  Go 
thy  ways,  old  Jack;  die  when  thou  wilt,  if  man- 
hood, good  manhood,  be  not  forgot  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth,  then  am  I  a  shotten  herring.  There 
live  not  three  good  men  unhanged  in  England ; 
and  one  of  them  is  fat  and  grows  old :  God  help 
the  while !  a  bad  world,  I  say.  I  would  I  were 
a  weaver;  I  could  sing  psalms  or  any  thing.  A 
plague  of  all  cowards,  I  say  still. 

Prince.   How  now,  wool-sack  !   what  mutter  you  ? 

150  Fal.  A  king's  son .'  If  I  do  not  beat  thee  out 
of  thy  kingdom  with  a  dagger  of  lath,  and  drive 
all  thy  subjects  afore  thee  like  a  flock  of  wild- 
geese,  I  '11  never  wear  hair  on  my  face  more. 
You  Prince  of  Wales ! 

Prince.  Why,  you  whoreson  round  man,  what 's 
the  matter  ? 

Fal.  Are  not  you  a  coward?  answer  me  to 
that :  and  Poins  there  ? 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       41 

Poins.  'Zounds,  ye  fat  paunch,  an  ye  call  me 
coward,  by  the  Lord,  I  '11  stab  thee.  i«i 

Fal.  I  call  thee  coward !  I  '11  see  thee  damned 
ere  1  call  thee  coward :  but  I  would  give  a  thou- 
sand pound  I  could  run  as  fast  as  thou  canst. 
You  are  straight  enough  in  the  shoulders,  you 
care  not  who  sees  your  back :  call  you  that 
backing  of  your  friends?  A  plague  upon  such 
backing !  give  me  them  that  will  face  me.  Give 
me  a  cup  of  sack:  I  am  a  rogue,  if  I  drunk 
to-day. 

Prince.     O   villain !   thy  lips  are  scarce  wiped  170 
since  thou  drunkest  last. 

Fal.  All  's  one  for  that.  [He  drinks.]  A 
plague  of  all  cowards,  still  say  I. 

Prince.     What  's  the  matter? 

Fal.  What  's  the  matter !  there  be  four  of  us 
here  have  ta'en  a  thousand  pound  this  day  morning. 

Prince.     Where  is  it,  Jack?  where  is  it? 

Fal.  Where  is  it !  taken  from  us  it  is  :  a  hun- 
dred upon  poor  four  of  us.  iso 

Prince.     What,  a  hundred,  man  ? 

Fal.  I  am  a  rogue,  if  I  were  not  at  half-sword 
with  a  dozen  of  them  two  hours  together.  I  have 
'scaped  by  miracle.  I  am  eight  times  thrust 
through  the  doublet,  four  through  the  hose;  my 
buckler  cut  through  and  through;  my  sword 
hacked  like  a  hand-saw  —  ecce  signum  !  I  never 
dealt  better  since  I  was  a  man :  all  would  not  do. 
A  plague  of  all  cowards !  Let  them  speak :  if 
they  speak  more  or  less  than  truth,  they  areiw 
villains  and  the  sons  of  darkness. 


42  KIM;    HENRY  THE   FOIHTH     [ACT  Two 

Prince.     Speak,  sirs ;   how  was  it  ? 

Gads.     We  four  set  upon  some  dozen  — 

Fal.     Sixteen,  at  least,  my  lord. 

Gads.     And  bound  them. 

Peto.     No,  no,  they  were  not  bound. 

Fal.  You  rogue,  they  were  bound,  every  man 
of  them ;  or  I  am  a  Jew  else,  an  Ebrew  Jew. 

Gads.     As  we  were  sharing,  some  six  or  seven 
200  fresh  men  set  upon  us  — 

Fal.  And  unbound  the  rest,  and  then  come  in 
the  other. 

Prince.     What,  fought  you  with  them  all? 

Fal.  All !  I  know  not  what  you  call  all ;  but  if 
I  fought  not  with  fifty  of  them,  I  am  a  bunch  of 
radish  :  if  there  were  not  two  or  three  and  fifty  upon 
poor  old  Jack,  then  am  I  no  two-legged  creature. 

Prince.     Pray    God    you    have    not    murdered 
210  some  of  them. 

Fal.  Nay,  that  's  past  praying  for :  I  have 
peppered  two  of  them ;  two  I  am  sure  I  have 
paid,  two  rogues  in  buckram  suits.  I  tell  thee 
what,  Hal,  if  I  tell  thee  a  lie,  spit  in  my  face, 
call  me  horse.  Thou  knowest  my  old  ward ;  here 
I  lay,  and  thus  I  bore  my  point.  Four  rogues 
in  buckram  let  drive  at  me  — 

Prince.     What,  four?  thou  saidst  but  two  even 
now. 
220      Fal.     Four,  Hal ;   I  told  thee  four. 

Poins.     Ay,  ay,  he  said  four. 

Fal.  These  four  came  all  a-front,  and  mainly 
thrust  at  me.  I  made  me  no  more  ado  but  took 
all  their  seven  points  in  my  target,  thus. 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       43 

Prince.  Seven?  why,  there  were  but  four  even 
now. 

Fal.     In  buckram. 

Pains.     Ay,  four,  in  buckram  suits. 

Fal.     Seven,  by  these  hilts,  or  I  am  a  villain  else.  230 

Prince.  Prithee,  let  him  alone;  we  shall  have 
more  anon. 

Fed.     Dost  thou  hear  me,  Hal  ? 

Prince.     Ay,  and  mark  thee  too,  Jack. 

Fal.  Do  so,  for  it  is  worth  the  listening  to. 
These  nine  in  buckram  that  I  told  thee  of  — 

Prince.     So,  two  more  already. 

Fal.     Their  points  being  broken,  — 

Poins.     Down  fell  their  hose. 

Fal.     Began  to  give  me  ground  :   but  I  followed  240 
me  close,  came  in   foot  and  hand;    and  with  a 
thought  seven  of  the  eleven  I  paid. 

Prince.  O  monstrous !  eleven  buckram  men 
grown  out  of  two ! 

Fal.  But,  as  the  devil  would  have  it,  three 
misbegotten  knaves  in  Kendal  green  came  at  my 
back  and  let  drive  at  me ;  for  it  was  so  dark,  Hal, 
that  thou  couldst  not  see  thy  hand. 

Prince.     These   lies   are   like   their   father   that 
begets  them;    gross  as  a  mountain,  open,  palpa-s.^ 
ble.     Why,  thou  clay-brained  guts,  thou  knotty- 
pated  fool,  thou  whoreson,  obscene,  greasy  tallow- 
ketch,  — 

Fal.  What,  art  thou  mad?  art  thou  mad?  is 
not  the  truth  the  truth? 

Prince.  Why,  how  couldst  thou  know  these 
men  in  Kendal  green,  when  it  was  so  dark  thou 


•U  KIN(;   HENRY  THE   FOrilTII     [A.-r  Two 

couldst    not    see    thy    hand?   come,    tell    us   your 
reason  :   what  sayest  thou  to  this? 

200      Poins.     Come,  your  reason,  Jack,  your  reason. 

Fal.  What,  uj>on  compulsion  ?  'Zounds,  an 
I  were  at  the  strappado,  or  all  the  racks  in  the 
world,  I  would  not  tell  you  on  compulsion.  (Jive 
you  a  reason  on  compulsion  !  if  reasons  were  as 
plentiful  as  blackberries,  I  would  give  no  man  a 
reason  ujx>n  compulsion,  I. 

Prince.  I  '11  be  no  longer  guilty  of  this  sin ; 
this  sanguine  coward,  this  bed-presser,  this  horse- 
back-breaker, this  huge  hill  of  flesh,  — 

270  Fal.  'Sblood,  you  starveling,  you  elf-skin,  you 
dried  neat's  tongue,  you  bull's  pizzle,  you  stock- 
fish !  O  for  breath  to  utter  what  is  like  thee !  you 
tailor's-yard,  you  sheath,  you  bow-case,  you  vile 
standing-tuck,  — 

Prince.     Well,   breathe  awhile,   and   then   to  it 
again  :    and  when  thou  hast  tired  thyself  in  base 
comparisons,  hear  me  speak  but  this. 
Poins.     Mark,  Jack. 
Prince.     We  two  saw  you  four  set  on  four  and 

280  bound  them,  and  were  masters  of  their  wealth. 
Mark  now,  how  a  plain  tale  shall  put  you  down. 
Then  did  we  two  set  on  you  four;  and,  with  a 
word,  out-faced  you  from  your  prize,  and  have  it; 
yea,  and  can  show  it  you  here  in  the  house :  and, 
Falstaff,  you  carried  your  guts  away  as  nimbly, 
with  as  quick  dexterity,  and  roared  for  mercy 
and  still  run  and  roared,  as  ever  I  heard  bull- 
calf.  What  a  slave  art  thou,  to  hack  thy  sword 
as  thou  hast  done,  and  then  say  it  was  in  fight! 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       45 

What    trick,    what    device,    what    starting-hole,  200 
canst  thou  now  find  out  to  hide  thee  from  this 
open  and  apparent  shame? 

Pains.  Come,  let  's  hear,  Jack;  what  trick 
hast  thou  now? 

Fal.  By  the  Lord,  I  knew  ye  as  well  as  he 
that  made  ye.  Why,  hear  you,  my  masters:  was 
it  for  me  to  kill  the  heir-apparent?  should  f  turn 
upon  the  true  prince?  why,  thou  knowest  I  am 
as  valiant  as  Hercules :  but  beware  instinct ;  the 
lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince.  Instinct  is  a  300 
great  matter;  I  was  now  a  coward  on  instinct. 
I  shall  think  the  better  of  myself  and  thee  during 
my  life;  I  for  a  valiant  lion,  and  thou  for  a  true 
prince.  But,  by  the  Lord,  lads,  I  am  glad  you 
have  the  money.  Hostess,  clap  to  the  doors : 
watch  to-night,  pray  to-morrow.  Gallants,  lads, 
boys,  hearts  of  gold,  all  the  titles  of  good  fellow- 
ship come  to  you !  What,  shall  we  be  merry  ? 
shall  we  have  a  play  extempore? 

Prince.     Content;    and  the  argument  shall  besio 
thy  running  away. 

Fal.  Ah,  no  more  of  that,  Hal,  an  thou  lovest 
me! 

Enter  Hostess 

Host.     O  Jesu,  my  lord  the  prince ! 

Prince.  How  now,  my  lady  the  hostess !  what 
sayest  thou  to  me? 

Host.  Marry,  my  lord,  there  is  a  nobleman  of 
the  court  at  door  would  speak  with  you :  he  says 
he  comes  from  your  father. 


46  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Art  Two 

320  Prince.  Give  him  as  much  as  will  make  him  a 
royal  man,  and  send  him  back  again  to  my  mother. 

Fal.     What  manner  of  man  is  he  ? 

Host.     An  old  man. 

Fal.  What  doth  gravity  out  of  his  bed  at  mid- 
night? Shall  I  give  him  his  answer? 

Prince.     Prithee,  do,  Jack. 

Fal.     'Faith,  and  I  '11  send  him  packing.     [Exit. 

Prince.     Now,  sirs  :    by  'r  lady,  you  fought  fair ; 
330  so  did  you,  Peto ;   so  did  you,  Bardolph :   you  are 
lions  too,  you  ran  away  upon  instinct,  you  will 
not  touch  the  true  prince ;   no,  fie  ! 

Bard.     'Faith,  I  ran  when  I  saw  others  run. 

Prince.  'Faith,  tell  me  now  in  earnest,  how 
came  Falstaff 's  sword  so  hacked  ? 

Peto.  Why,  he  hacked  it  with  his  dagger,  and 
said  he  would  swear  truth  out  of  England  but  he 
would  make  you  believe  it  was  done  in  fight,  and 
persuaded  us  to  do  the  like. 

340  Bard.  Yea,  and  to  tickle  our  noses  with  spear- 
grass  to  make  them  bleed,  and  then  to  beslubber 
our  garments  with  it  and  swear  it  was  the  blood 
of  true  men.  I  did  that  I  did  not  this  seven  year 
before,  I  blushed  to  hear  his  monstrous  devices. 

Prince.  O  villain,  thou  stolest  a  cup  of  sack 
eighteen  years  ago,  and  wert  taken  with  the 
manner,  and  ever  since  thou  hast  blushed  extem- 
pore. Thou  hadst  fire  and  sword  on  thy  side, 
and  yet  thou  rannest  away :  what  instinct  hadst 
350  thou  for  it  ? 

Bard.  My  lord,  do  you  see  these  meteors? 
do  you  behold  these  exhalations  ? 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       47 

Prince.     I  do. 

Bard.     What  think  you  they  portend  ? 
Prince.     Hot  livers  and  cold  purses. 
Bard.     Choler,  my  lord,  if  rightly  taken. 
Prince.     No,  if  rightly  taken,  halter. 

Re-enter  FALSTAFF 

Here    comes    lean    Jack,    here    comes    bare-bone. 
How  now,  my  sweet  creature  of  bombast !     How 
long  is  't  ago,  Jack,  since  thou  sawest  thine  own  360 
knee? 

Fal.  My  own  knee !  when  I  was  about  thy 
years,  Hal,  I  was  not  an  eagle's  talon  in  the 
waist;  I  could  have  crept  into  any  alderman's 
thumb-ring :  a  plague  of  sighing  and  grief !  it 
blows  a  man  up  like  a  bladder.  There  's  villanous 
news  abroad :  here  was  Sir  John  Bracy  from  your 
father;  you  must  to  the  court  in  the  morning. 
That  same  mad  fellow  of  the  north,  Percy,  and 
he  of  Wales,  that  gave  Amamon  the  bastinado  370 
and  made  Lucifer  cuckold  and  swore  the  devil 
his  true  liegeman  upon  the  cross  of  a  Welsh 
hook  —  what  a  plague  call  you  him  ? 

Poins.     O,  Glendower. 

Fal.  Owen,  Owen,  the  same;  and  his  son-in- 
law  Mortimer,  and  old  Northumberland,  and  that 
sprightly  Scot  of  Scots,  Douglas,  that  runs 
o'  horseback  up  a  hill  perpendicular,  — 

Prince.  He  that  rides  at  high  speed  and  with 
his  pistol  kills  a  sparrow  flying.  380 

Fal.     You  have  hit  it. 

Prince.     So  did  he  never  the  sparrow. 


48  KIMJ   HKNRY  THE   FOrilTH     [ACT  Two 

Fal.  Well,  that  rascal  hath  good  mettle  in 
him;  he  will  not  run. 

Prince.  Why,  what  a  rascal  art  thou  then,  to 
praise  him  so  for  running! 

Fal.  ()'  horseback,  ye  cuckoo;  hut  afoot  he 
will  not  budge  a  foot. 

Prince.  Yes,  Jack,  upon  instinct. 
390  Fal.  I  grant  ye,  upon  instinct.  Well,  he  is 
there  too,  and  one  Mordake,  and  a  thousand 
blue-caps  more :  Worcester  is  stolen  away  to- 
night ;  thy  father's  beard  is  turned  white  with  the 
news  :  you  may  buy  land  now  as  cheap  as  stinking 
mackerel. 

Prince.  Why,  then,  it  is  like,  if  there  come  a 
hot  June,  and  this  civil  buffeting  hold,  we  shall 
buy  maidenheads  as  they  buy  hob-nails,  by  the 
hundreds. 

100  Fal.  By  the  mass,  lad,  thou  sayest  true ;  it  is 
like  we  shall  have  good  trading  that  way.  But 
tell  me,  Hal,  art  not  thou  horrible  afeard  ?  thou 
being  heir-apparent,  could  the  world  pick  thee 
out  three  such  enemies  again  as  that  fiend  Doug- 
las, that  spirit  Percy,  and  that  devil  (ilendower? 
Art  thou  not  horribly  afraid  ?  doth  not  thy  blood 
thrill  at  it  ? 

Prince.  Not  a  whit,  i'  faith ;  I  lack  some  of 
thy  instinct. 

no  Fal.  Well,  thou  wilt  be  horribly  chid  to-mor- 
row when  thou  comest  to  thy  father :  if  thou  love 
me,  practise  an  answer. 

Prince.  Do  thou  stand  for  my  father,  and  ex- 
amine me  upon  the  particulars  of  my  life. 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       49 

Fal.  Shall  I?  content:  this  chair  shall  be 
my  state,  this  dagger  my  sceptre,  and  this  cushion 
my  crown. 

Prince.  Thy  state  is  taken  for  a  joined-stool, 
thy  golden  sceptre  for  a  leaden  dagger,  and  thy 
precious  rich  crown  for  a  pitiful  bald  crown !  420 

Fal.  Well,  an  the  fire  of  grace  be  not  quite 
out  of  thee,  now  shalt  thou  be  moved.  Give  me 
a  cup  of  sack  to  make  my  eyes  look  red,  that  it 
may  be  thought  I  have  wept;  for  I  must  speak 
in  passion,  and  I  will  do  it  in  King  Cambyses'  vein. 

Prince.     Well,  here  is  my  leg. 

Fal.  And  here  is  my  speech.  Stand  aside, 
nobility. 

Host.     O  Jesu,  this  is  excellent  sport,  i'  faith !     430 

Fal.     Weep    not,    sweet    queen;     for    trickling 
tears  are  vain. 

Host.  O,  the  father,  how  he  holds  his  counte- 
nance ! 

Fal.     For  God's  sake,  lords,  convey  my  tristful 

queen ; 
For  tears  do  stop  the  flood-gates  of  her  eyes. 

Host.  O  Jesu,  he  doth  it  as  like  one  of  these 
harlotry  players  as  ever  I  see ! 

Fal.  Peace,  good  pint-pot;  peace,  good  tickle- 
brain.  Harry,  I  do  not  only  marvel  where  thou 
spendest  thy  time,  but  also  how  thou  art  accom-  44t 
panied :  for  though  the  camomile,  the  more  it  is 
trodden  on  the  faster  it  grows,  yet  youth,  the 
more  it  is  wasted  the  sooner  it  wears.  That  thou 
art  my  son,  I  have  partly  thy  mother's  word, 
partly  my  own  opinion,  but  chiefly  a  villanous 


50  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Arr  Two 

trick  of  thine  eye  and  a  foolish  hanging  of  thy 
nether  lip,  that  doth  warrant  me.  If  then  thou 
[ye  son  to  me,  here  lies  the  point;  why,  being  son 
to  me,  art  thou  so  pointed  at  ?  Shall  the  blessed  sun 

450  of  heaven  prove  a  micher  and  eat  blackberries  ?  a 
question  not  to  be  asked.  Shall  the  son  of  England 
prove  a  thief  and  take  purses?  a  question  to  be 
asked.  There  is  a  thing,  Harry,  which  thou  hast 
often  heard  of  and  it  is  known  to  many  in  our  land 
by  the  name  of  pitch  :  this  pitch,  as  ancient  writers 
do  report,  doth  defile;  so  doth  the  company  thou 
keenest :  for,  Harry,  now  I  do  not  speak  to  thee 
in  drink  but  in  tears,  not  in  pleasure  but  in  pas- 
sion, not  in  words  only,  but  in  woes  also :  and  yet 

460  there  is  a  virtuous  man  whom  I  have  often  noted 
in  thy  company,  but  I  know  not  his  name. 

Prince.  What  manner  of  man,  an  it  like  your 
majesty  ? 

Fal.  A  goodly  portly  man,  i'  faith,  and  a  cor- 
pulent; of  a  cheerful  look,  a  pleasing  eye  and  a 
most  noble  carriage ;  and,  as  I  think,  his  age 
some  fifty,  or,  by  'r  lady,  inclining  to  three  score ; 
and  now  I  remember  me,  his  name  is  Falstaff:  if 
that  man  should  be  lewdly  given,  he  deceiveth 

*70  me ;  for,  Harry,  I  see  virtue  in  his  looks.  If  then 
the  tree  may  be  known  by  the  fruit,  as  the  fruit 
by  the  tree,  then,  peremptorily  I  sj>eak  it,  there 
is  virtue  in  that  Falstaff :  him  keep  with,  the  rest 
banish.  And  tell  me  now,  thou  naughty  varlet, 
tell  me,  where  hast  thou  been  this  month  ? 

Prince.  Dost  thou  speak  like  a  king  ?  Do  thou 
stand  for  me,  and  I  '11  play  my  father. 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH       51 

Fal.     Depose  me  ?  if  thou  dost  it  half  so  gravely, 
so  majestically,  both  in  word  and  matter,  hang 
ic  up  by  the  heels  for  a  rabbit-sucker  or  a  poulter's  480 

Prince.     Well,  here  I  am  set. 

Fed.     And  here  I  stand  :  judge,  my  masters. 

Prince.     Now,  Harry,  whence  come  you? 

Fal.     My  noble  lord,  from  Eastcheap. 

Prince.     The    complaints    I    hear    of    thee    are 
grievous. 

Fal.     'Sblood,  my  lord,  they  are  false  :  nay,  I  '11 
tickle  ye  for  a  young  prince,  i'  faith. 

Prince.  Swearest  thou,  ungracious  boy?  hence- 490 
forth  ne'er  look  on  me.  Thou  art  violently  car- 
ried away  from  grace :  there  is  a  devil  haunts 
thee  in  the  likeness  of  an  old  fat  man;  a  tun  of 
man  is  thy  companion.  Why  dost  thou  converse 
with  that  trunk  of  humours,  that  bolting-hutch  of 
beastliness,  that  swollen  parcel  of  dropsies,  that 
huge  bombard  of  sack,  that  stuffed  cloak-bag^  of 
guts,  that  roasted  Manningtree  ox  with  the  pud- 
ding in  his  belly,  that  reverend  vice,  that  grey 
iniquity,  that  father  ruffian,  that  vanity  in  years  ?  soo 
Wherein  is  he  good,  but  to  taste  sack  and  drink 
it?  wherein  neat  and  cleanly,  but  to  carve  a  capon 
and  eat  it  ?  wherein  cunning,  but  in  craft  ?  wherein 
crafty,  but  in  villany?  wherein  villanous,  but  in 
all  things  ?  wherein  worthy,  but  in  nothing  ? 

Fal.     I  would  your  grace  would  take  me  with 
you  :  whom  means  your  grace  ? 

Prince.     That   villanous   abominable   misleader 
of  youth,  Falstaff,  that  old  white-bearded  Satan. 


52  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

510      Fal.     My  lord,  the  man  I  know. 
Prince.     I  know  thou  dost. 
Fal.     But  to  say  I   know  more  harm  in  him 
than  in  myself,  were  to  say  more  than  I  know. 
That  he  is  old,  the  more  the  pity,  his  white  hairs 
do  witness  it;    hut  that  he  is,  saving  your  rever- 
ence, a  whoremaster,  that  I  utterly  deny.     If  sack 
and  sugar  be  a  fault,  God  help  the  wicked  !  if  to 
be  old  and  merry  be  a  sin,  then  many  an  old  host 
that  I  know  is  damned  :  if  to  be  fat  be  to  be  hated, 

520  then  Pharaoh's  lean  kine  are  to  be  loved.  No,  my 
good  lord;  banish  Peto,  banish  Bardolph,  banish 
Poins :  but  for  sweet  Jack  Falstaff,  kind  Jack 
Falstaff,  true  Jack  Falstaff,  valiant  Jack  Falstaff, 
and  therefore  more  valiant,  being,  as  he  is,  old 
Jack  Falstaff,  banish  not  him  thy  Harry's  com- 
pany, banish  not  him  thy  Harry's  company : 
banish  plump  Jack,  and  banish  all  the  world. 
Prince.  I  do,  I  will.  [.1  knocking  heard. 

[Exeunt  Hostess,  Francis,  and  Bardolph. 

Re-enter  BARDOLPH,  running 

Bard.     O,  my  lord,  my  lord !  the  sheriff  with 
530  a  most  monstrous  watch  is  at  the  door. 

Fal.     Out,  ye  rogue  !     Play  out  the  play  :  I  have 
much  to  say  in  the  behalf  of  that  Falstaff. 

Re-enter  the  Hostess 

Host.     O  Jesu,  my  lord,  my  lord ! 
Fal.     Heigh,     heigh !     the     devil     rides     upon 
a  fiddlestick:    what  's  the  matter? 

Host.     The  sheriff  and  all  the  watch  are  at  the 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      53 

door :    they  are  come  to  search  the  house.     Shall 
I  let  them  in? 

Fal.     Dost  thou  hear,  Hal?  never  call  a  true 
piece  of  gold  a  counterfeit :    thou  art  essentially  540 
mad,  without  seeming  so. 

Prince.  And  thou  a  natural  coward,  without 
instinct. 

Fal.  I  deny  your  major :  if  you  will  deny  the 
sheriff,  so ;  if  not,  let  him  enter :  if  I  become  not 
a  cart  as  well  as  another  man,  a  plague  on  my 
bringing  up !  I  hope  I  shall  as  soon  be  strangled 
with  a  halter  as  another. 

Prince.     Go,  hide  thee  behind  the  arras :    the 
rest  walk  up  above.     Now,  my  masters,  for  a  true  550 
face  and  good  conscience. 

Fal.  Both  which  I  have  had :  but  their  date 
is  out,  and  therefore  I  '11  hide  me. 

Prince.     Call  in  the  sheriff. 

[Exeunt  all  except  the  Prince  and  Peto. 

Enter  Sheriff  and  the  Carrier 

Now,  master  sheriff,  what  is  your  will  with  me  ? 

Sher.  First,  pardon  me,  my  lord.  A  hue  and  cry 
Hath  follow'd  certain  men  unto  this  house. 

Prince.     What  men  ? 

Sher.     One  of  them  is  well  known,  my  gracious 

lord, 
A  gross  fat  man. 

Car.  As  fat  as  butter.  seo 

Prince.     The  man,  I  do  assure  you,  is  not  here ; 
For  I  myself  at  this  time  have  employ 'd  him. 
And,  sheriff,  I  will  engage  my  word  to  thee 


54        KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Arr  THHEB 

That  I  will,  by  to-morrow  dinner-time, 
Send  him  to  answer  thee,  or  any  man, 
For  any  thing  he  shall  be  charged  withal : 
And  so  let  me  entreat  you  leave  the  house. 

Sher.     I  will,  my  lord.     There  are  two  gentlemen 
Have  in  this  robbery  lost  three  hundred  marks. 
S7o      Prince.     It  may  be  so :    if  he  have  robb'd  these 

men, 

He  shall  be  answerable;   and  so  farewell. 
Sher.     Good  night,  my  noble  lord. 
Prince.     I  think  it  is  good  morrow,  is  it  not  ? 
Sher.     Indeed,  my  lord,  I  think  it  be  two  o'clock. 
[Exeunt  Sheriff  and  Carrier. 

Prince.  This  oily  rascal  is  known  as  well  as 
Paul's.  Go,  call  him  forth. 

Peto.  Falstaff  !  —  Fast  asleep  behind  the  arras, 
and  snorting  like  a  horse. 

Prince.     Hark,    how    hard    he    fetches    breath. 
sso  Search    his    pockets.     [He    searcheth    his    pockets, 
and    findeth    certain     papers.]     What    hast    thou 
found  ? 

Peto.     Nothing  but  papers,  my  lord. 
Prince.     Let  's  see  what  they  be  :  read  them. 
Peto.     [Reads]     Item,  A  capon,      .         .     2s.  &f. 
Item,  Sauce,          .         .  4rf. 

Item,  Sack,  two  gallons     5s.  Sd. 
Item,     Anchovies     and 

sack  after  supper,     .     2s.  6d. 

590  Item,  Bread,          .         .          ob. 

Prince.  O  monstrous !  but  one  half-penny- 
worth of  bread  to  this  intolerable  deal  of  sack ! 
What  there  is  else,  keep  close;  we  '11  read  it  at 


SCENL  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        55 

more  advantage :  there  let  him  sleep  till  day. 
I  '11  to  the  court  in  the  morning.  We  must  all  to 
the  wars,  and  thy  place  shall  be  honourable.  I  '11 
procure  this  fat  rogue  a  charge  of  foot;  and  I 
know  his  death  will  be  a  march  of  twelve-score. 
The  money  shall  be  paid  back  again  with  advan- 
tage. Be  with  me  betimes  in  the  morning;  andeoo 
so,  good  morrow,  Peto. 

Peto.     Good  morrow,  good  my  lord.      [Exeunt. 


ACT  III 

SCENE  I  —  Bangor.     The  Archdeacon's  house 

Enter  HOTSPUR,  WORCESTER,  MORTIMER,  and 
GLENDOWER 

Mori.     These  promises  are  fair,  the  parties  sure, 
And  our  induction  full  of  prosperous  hope.    . 

Hot.     Lord  Mortimer,  and  cousin  Glendower, 
Will  you  sit  down  ? 

And  uncle  Worcester  :  a  plague  upon  it ! 
I  have  forgot  the  map. 

Glend.  No,  here  it  is. 

Sit,  cousin  Percy ;  sit,  good  cousin  Hotspur, 
For  by  that  name  as  oft  as  Lancaster 
Doth  speak  of  you,  his  cheek  looks  pale  and  with 
A  rising  sigh  he  wisheth  you  in  heaven.  10 

Hot.     And  you  in   hell   as   often   as   he   hears 
Owen  Glendower  spoke  of. 

Glend.     I  cannot  blame  him :  at  my  nativity 
The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapes, 


56        KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Act  THREM 

Of  burning  cressets ;   and  at  my  hirth 

The  frame  and  huge  foundation  of  the  earth 

Shaked  like  a  coward. 

Hot.     Why,  so  it  would  have  done  at  the  same 
season,   if  your   mother's  cat   had   but   kittened, 
20  though  yourself  had  never  l>een  born. 

Glend.     I  say  the  earth  did  shake  when  I  was 
born. 

Hot.     And  I  say  the  earth  was  not  of  my  mind, 
If  you  suppose  as  fearing  you  it  shook. 

Glend.     The  heavens  were  all  on  fire,  the  earth 
did  tremble. 

Hot.     O,  then  the  earth  shook  to  see  the  heavens 

on  fire, 

And  not  in  fear  of  your  nativity. 
Diseased  nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 
In  strange  eruptions;  oft  the  teeming  earth 
Is  with  a  kind  of  colic  pinch 'd  and  vex'd 
so  By  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wind 

Within  her  womb ;  which,  for  enlargement  striving, 
Shakes  the  old  beldam  earth  and  topples  down 
Steeples  and  moss-grown  towers.     At  your  birth 
Our  grandam  earth,  having  this  distemperature, 
In  passion  shook. 

Glend.  Cousin,  of  many  men 

I  do  not  bear  these  crossings.     Give  me  leave 
To  tell  you  once  again  that  at  my  birth 
The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapes, 
The  goats  ran  from  the  mountains,  and  the  herds 
10  Were  strangely  clamorous  to  the  frighted  fields. 
These  signs  have  mark'd  me  extraordinary ; 
And  all  the  courses  of  my  life  do  show 


SCENE  ONE]     KING   HENRY   THE    FOURTH         57 

I  am  not  in  the  roll  of  common  men. 

Where  is  he  living,  clipp'd  in  with  the  sea 

That  chides  the  banks  of  England,  Scotland,  Wales, 

Which  calls  me  pupil,  or  hath  read  to  me  ? 

And  bring  him  out  that  is  but  woman's  son 

Can  trace  me  in  the  tedious  ways  of  art 

And  hold  me  pace  in  deep  experiments. 

Hot.     I  think  there 's  no  man  speaks  better  Welsh .  50 
I  '11  to  dinner. 

M ort.     Peace,  cousin  Percy ;  you  will  make  him 
mad. 

Glend.     I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep. 

Hot.     Why,  so  can  I,  or  so  can  any  man ; 
But  will  they  come  when  you  do  call  for  them  ? 

Glend.     Why,  I  can  teach  you,  cousin,  to  com- 
mand 
The  devil. 

Hot.     And  I  can  teach  thee,  coz,  to  shame  the 

devil 

By  telling  truth :  tell  truth  and  shame  the  devil. 
If  thou  have  power  to  raise  him,  bring  him  hither,  eo 
And  I  '11  be  sworn  I  have  power  to  shame  him  hence. 
O,  while  you  live,  tell  truth  and  shame  the  devil ! 

Mort.     Come,  come,  no  more  of  this  unprofitable 
chat. 

Glend.     Three   times   hath   Henry   Bolingbroke 

made  head 

Against  my  power ;  thrice  from  the  banks  of  Wye 
And  sandy-bottom'd  Severn  have  I  sent  him 
Bootless  home  and  weather-beaten  back. 

Hot.     Home  without  boots,  and  in  foul  weather 
too! 


58         KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  THHEB 

How  'scai>es  he  agues,  in  the  devil's  name  ? 

70     Glcnd.     Come,  here  's  the  map :  shall  we  divide 

our  right 
According  to  our  threefold  order  ta'en  ? 

Mort.     The  archdeacon  hath  divided  it 
Into  three  limits  very  equally  : 
England,  from  Trent  and  Severn  hitherto, 
By  south  and  east  is  to  my  part  assign'd : 
All  westward,  Wales  beyond  the  Severn  shore, 
And  all  the  fertile  land  within  that  bound, 
To  Owen  Glendower :  and,  dear  coz,  to  you 
The  remnant  northward,  lying  off  from  Trent. 

so  And  our  indentures  tripartite  are  drawn; 
Which  being  sealed  interchangeably, 
A  business  that  this  night  may  execute, 
To-morrow,  cousin  Percy,  you  and  I 
And  my  good  Lord  of  Worcester  will  set  forth 
To  meet  your  father  and  the  Scottish  power, 
As  is  appointed  us,  at  Shrewsbury. 
My  father  Glendower  is  not  ready  yet, 
Nor  shall  we  need  his  help  these  fourteen  days. 
Within  that  space  you  may  have  drawn  together 

90  Your  tenants,  friends  and  neighbouring  gentlemen. 
Glend.     A  shorter  time  shall  send  me  to  you, 

lords : 

And  in  my  conduct  shall  your  ladies  come ; 
From  whom  you  now  must  steal  and  take  no  leave, 
For  there  will  be  a  world  of  water  shed 
Upon  the  parting  of  your  wives  and  you. 

Hot.     Methinks  my  moiety,  north  from  Burton 

here, 
In  quantity  equals  not  one  of  yours  : 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        59 

See  how  this  river  comes  me  cranking  in, 

And  cuts  me  from  the  best  of  all  my  land 

A  huge  half-moon,  a  monstrous  cantle  out.  100 

I  '11  have  the  current  in  this  place  damm'd  up ; 

And  here  the  smug  and  silver  Trent  shall  run 

In  a  new  channel,  fair  and  evenly ; 

It  shall  not  wind  with  such  a  deep  indent, 

To  rob  me  of  so  rich  a  bottom  here. 

Glend.     Not  wind  ?  it  shall,  it  must ;   you  see  it 
doth. 

Mori.     Yea,  but 

Mark  how  he  bears  his  course,  and  runs  me  up 
With  like  advantage  on  the  other  side ; 
Gelding  the  opposed  continent  as  much  no 

As  on  the  other  side  it  takes  from  you. 

Wor.     Yea,  but  a  little  charge  will  trench  him 

here 

And  on  this  north  side  win  this  cape  of  land ; 
And  then  he  runs  straight  and  even. 

Hot.     I  '11  have  it  so  :  a  little  charge  will  do  it. 

Glend.     I  '11  not  have  it  alter'd. 

Hot.  Will  not  you  ? 

Glend.     No,  nor  you  shall  not. 

Hot.  Who  shall  say  me  nay  ? 

Glend.     Why,  that  will  I. 

Hot.     Let  me  not  understand  you,  then ;   speak 
it  in  Welsh.  120 

Glend.     I  can  speak  English,  lord,  as  well  as  you ; 
For  I  was  train'd  up  in  the  English  court ; 
Where,  being  but  young,  I  framed  to  the  harp 
Many  an  English  ditty  lovely  well 
And  gave  the  tongue  a  helpful  ornament, 


30        KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Ac-r  THREE 

A  virtue  that  was  never  seen  in  you. 

Hot.     Marry, 

And  I  am  glad  of  it  with  all  my  heart : 
I  had  rather  l>e  a  kitten  and  cry  mew 
130  Than  one  of  these  same  metre  ballad-mongers ; 
I  had  rather  hear  a  brazen  canstick  turn'd, 
Or  a  dry  wheel  grate  on  the  axle-tree ; 
And  that  would  set  my  teeth  nothing  on  edge, 
Nothing  so  much  as  mincing  poetry : 
'T  is  like  the  forced  gait  of  a  shuffling  nag. 

Glend.     Come,  you  shall  have  Trent  turn'd. 

Hot.     I  do  not  care  :  I  '11  give  thrice  so  much  land 
To  any  well-deserving  friend ; 
But  in  the  way  of  bargain,  mark  ye  me, 
HO  I  '11  cavil  on  the  ninth  part  of  a  hair. 

Are  the  indentures  drawn  ?  shall  we  l>e  gone  ? 

Glend.     The  moon  shines  fair ;  you  may  away  by 

night : 

I  '11  haste  the  writer  and  withal 
Break  with  your  wives  of  your  departure  hence : 
I  am  afraid  my  daughter  will  run  mad, 
So  much  she  doteth  on  her  Mortimer.  [Exit. 

Mart.     Fie,  cousin   Percy !  how  you  cross  my 
father ! 

Hot.     I  cannot  choose  :   sometime  he  angers  me 
With  telling  me  of  the  moldwarp  and  the  ant, 
iso  Of  the  dreamer  Merlin  and  his  prophecies, 
And  of  a  dragon  and  a  finless  fish, 
A  clip-wing'd  griffin  and  a  moulten  raven, 
A  couching  lion  and  a  ramping  cat, 
And  such  a  deal  of  skimble-skamble  stuff 
As  puts  me  from  my  faith.     I  tell  you  what' 


SCENE  ONE]     KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH         61 

He  held  me  last  night  at  least  nine  hours 
In  reckoning  up  the  several  devils'  names 
That  were  his  lackeys:  I  cried  "hum,"  and  "well, 

go  to," 

But  mark'd  him  not  a  word.     O,  he  is  as  tedious 
As  a  tired  horse,  a  railing  wife ;  lea 

Worse  than  a  smoky  house :  I  had  rather  live 
With  cheese  and  garlic  in  a  windmill,  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 
And  wondrous  affable  and  as  bountiful 
As  mines  of  India.     Shall  I  tell  you,  cousin  ? 
He  holds  your  temper  in  a  high  respect  170 

And  curbs  himself  even  of  his  natural  scope 
When  you  come  '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  entreat  you. 

Wor.     In  faith,  my  lord,  you  are  too  wilful- 
blame  ; 

And  since  your  coming  hither  have  done  enough 
To  put  him  quite  beside  his  patience. 
You  must  needs  learn,  lord,  to  amend  this  fault :    \sc 
Though    sometimes    it    show   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, 


62        KING   HENRY  THE  FOrRTH     [Art  THNEB 

Pride,  haughtiness,  opinion  and  disdain : 
The  least  of  which  haunting  a  nobleman 
Loseth  men's  hearts  and  leaves  behind  a  stain 
Upon  the  lx?aut.y  of  all  parts  l>esides, 
Beguiling  them  of  commendation. 
190     Hot.     Well,  I  am  school 'd :    good  manners  be 

your  speed ! 
Here  come  our  wives,  and  let  us  take  our  leave. 

Re-enter  GLENDOWER  with  the  ladies 

Mori.     This  is  the  deadly  spite  that  angers  me; 
My  wife  can  speak  no  English,  I  no  Welsh. 

Glend.     My  daughter  weeps :    she  will  not  part 

with  you ; 
She  '11  be  a  soldier  too,  she  '11  to  the  wars. 

Mort.     Good  father,  tell  her  that  she  and  my 

aunt  Percy 
Shall  follow  in  your  conduct  speedily. 

[Glendower  speaks  to  her  in  Welsh,  and  she 
ansirers  him  in  the  same. 

Glend.     She  is  desperate  here;    a  j>eevish  self- 
will  'd   harlotry,   one   that   no   persuasion   can   do 
200 good  upon.  [The  lady  speaks  in  Welsh. 

Mort.     I    understand    thy    looks :     that    pretty 

Welsh 
Which    thou    pour'st   down    from    these  'swelling 

heavens 

I  am  too  perfect  in ;  and,  but  for  shame, 
In  such  a  parley  should  I  answer  thee. 

[The  lady  speaks  again  in  Welsh. 
I  understand  thy  kisses  and  thou  mine, 
And  that  's  a  feeling  disputation  : 


SCENE  ONE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH          63 

But  I  will  never  be  a  truant,  love, 
Till  I  have  learn'd  thy  language ;  for  thy  tongue 
Makes  Welsh  as  sweet  as  ditties  highly  penn'd, 
Sung  by  a  fair  queen  in  a  summer's  bower,  210 

With  ravishing  division,  to  her  lute. 

Glend.     Nay,  if  you  melt,  then  will  she  run  mad. 
[The  lady  speaks  again  in  Welsh. 

Mori.     O,  I  am  ignorance  itself  in  this ! 

Glend.     She  bids  you  on  the  wanton  rushes  lay 

you  down 

And  rest  your  gentle  head  upon  her  lap, 
And  she  will  sing  the  song  that  pleaseth  you 
And  on  your  eyelids  crown  the  god  of  sleep, 
Charming  your  blood  with  pleasing  heaviness, 
Making  such  difference  'twixt  wake  and  sleep 
As  is  the  difference  betwixt  day  and  night  220 

The  hour  before  the  heavenly-harness'd  team 
Begins  his  golden  progress  in  the  east. 

M ort.     With  all  my  heart  I  '11  sit  and  hear  her 

sing: 
By  that  time  will  our  book,  I  think,  be  drawn. 

Glend.     Do  so ; 

And  those  musicians  that  shall  play  to  you 
Hang  in  the  air  a  thousand  leagues  from  hence, 
And  straight  they  shall  be  here :  sit,  and  attend. 

Hot.     Come,   Kate,   thou   art  perfect   in   lying 
down :    come,  quick,  quick,  that  I  may  lay  my  230 
head  in  thy  lap. 

Lady  P.     Go,  ye  giddy  goose.    [The  music  plays. 

Hot.     Now    I    perceive    the    devil    understands 

Welsh ; 
And  't  is  no  marvel  he  is  so  humorous. 


64         KING    HENRY   THE    FOURTH     [Acr  THREE 

By  'r  lady,  lie  is  a  good  musician. 

Lady  P.  Then  should  you  be  nothing  hut 
musical,  for  you  are  altogether  governed  by  hu- 
mours. Lie  still,  ye  thief,  and  hear  the  lady  sing 
in  Welsh. 

240     Hot.     I  had  rather  hear  Lady,  my  brach,  how' 
in  Irish. 

Lady  P.     Wouldst  thou  have  thy  head  broken  ? 

Hot.    No. 

Lady  P.     Then  be  still. 

Hot.     Neither;   't  is  a  woman's  fault. 

Lady  P.     Now  God  help  thee  !     What 's  that  ? 

Hot.     Peace !  she  sings. 

[Here  the  lady  sinys  a  Welsh  xmig. 
250     Hot.     Come,  Kate,  I  '11  have  your  song  too. 

Lady  P.     Not  mine,  in  good  sooth. 

Hot.     Not  yours,  in  good  sooth !     Heart !  you 
swear  like  a  comfit-maker's  wife.     "Not  you,  in 
good  sooth,"  and  "as  true  as  I  live,"  and  "as  God 
shall  mend  me,"  and  "as  sure  as  day," 
And  givest  such  sarcenet  surety  for  thy  oaths, 
As  if  thou  never  walk'st  further  than  Finsbury. 
Swear  me,  Kate,  like  a  lady  as  thou  art, 
A  good  mouth-filling  oath,  and  leave  "in  sooth," 
aeo  And  such  protest  of  pepi>er-gingerbread, 
To  velvet-guards  and  Sunday-citizens. 
Come,  sing. 

Lady  P.     I  will  not  sing. 

Hot.  'T  is  the  next  way  to  turn  tailor,  or  be 
red-breast  teacher.  An  the  indentures  be  drawn, 
I  '11  away  within  these  two  hours ;  and  so,  come 
in  when  ye  will.  [Exit. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        65 


Glend.     Come,  come,  Lord  Mortimer;    you  are 

as  slow 

As  hot  Lord  Percy  is  on  fire  to  go. 
By  this  our  book  is  drawn ;  we  '11  but  seal,  270 

And  then  to  horse  immediately. 

Mort.  With  all  my  heart.     [Exeunt. 


SCENE  II  —  London.     The  palace 
Enter  the  KING,  PRINCE  OF  WALES,  and  others 

King.     Lords,    give    us    leave;     the    Prince    of 

Wales  and  I 
Must  have  some  private  conference:   but  be  near 

at  hand, 
For  we  shall  presently  have  need  of  you. 

[Exeunt  Lords. 

I  know  not  whether  God  will  have  it  so, 
For  some  displeasing  service  I  have  done, 
That,  in  his  secret  doom,  out  of  my  blood 
He  '11  breed  revengement  and  a  scourge  for  me ; 
But  thou  dost  in  thy  passages,  of  life 
Make  me  believe  that  thou  art  only  mark'd 
For  the  hot  vengeance  and  the  rod  of  heaven  10 

To  punish  my  mistreadings.     Tell  me  else, 
Could  such  inordinate  and  low  desires, 
Such  poor,  such  bare,  such  lewd,  such  mean  at- 
tempts, 

Such  barren  pleasures,  rude  society, 
As  thou  art  match'd  withal  and  grafted  to, 
Accompany  the  greatness  of  thy  blood 
And  hold  their  level  with  thy  princely  heart  ? 
Prince.     So  please  your  majesty,  I  would  I  could 


66        KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  THKEB 

Quit  all  offences  with  as  clear  excuse 
20  As  well  as  I  am  doubtless  I  can  purge 

Myself  of  many  I  am  charged  withal : 

Yet  such  extenuation  let  me  l>eg, 

As,  in  reproof  of  many  tales  devised, 

Which  oft  the  ear  of  greatness  needs  must  hear, 

By  smiling  pick-thanks  and  base  newsmongers, 

I  may,  for  some  things  true,  wherein  my  youth 

Hr.th  faulty  wander'd  arid  irregular, 

Find  pardon  on  my  true  submission. 

King.     God  pardon  thee !  yet  let  me  wonder 

Harry, 
30  At  thy  affections,  which  do  hold  a  wing 

Quite  from  the  flight  of  all  thy  ancestors. 

Thy  place  in  council  thou  hast  rudely  lost, 

Which  by  thy  younger  brother  is  supplied, 

And  art  almost  an  alien  to  the  hearts 

Of  all  the  court  and  princes  of  my  blood : 

The  hope  and  expectation  of  thy  time 

Is  ruin'd,  and  the  soul  of  every  man 

Prophetically  doth  forethink  thy  fall. 

Had  I  so  lavish  of  my  presence  been, 
40  So  common-hackney 'd  in  the  eyes  of  men, 

So  stale  and  cheap  to  vulgar  company, 

Opinion,  that  did  help  me  to  the  crown 

Had  still  kept  loyal  to  possession 

And  left  me  in  reputeless  banishment, 

A  fellow  of  no  mark  nor  likelihood. 

By  being  seldom  seen,  I  could  not  stir 

But  like  a  comet  I  was  wonder'd  at ; 

That  men  would  tell  their  children  "This  is  he"; 

Others  would  say  "Where,  which  is  Bolingbroke? 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        67 

And  then  I  stole  all  courtesy  from  heaven,  so 

And  dress'd  myself  in  such  humility 

That  I  did  pluck  allegiance  from  men's  hearts, 

Loud  shouts  and  salutations  from  their  mouths, 

Even  in  the  presence  of  the  crowned  king. 

Thus  did  I  keep  my  person  fresh  and  new ; 

My  presence,  like  a  robe  pontifical, 

Ne'er  seen  but  wonder'd  at :  and  so  my  state, 

Seldom  but  sumptuous,  showed  like  a  feast 

And  wan  by  rareness  such  solemnity. 

The  skipping  king,  he  ambled  up  and  down  ec 

With  shallow  jesters  and  rash  bavin  wits, 

Soon  kindled  and  soon  burnt ;  carded  his  state, 

Mingled  his  royalty  with  capering  fools, 

Had  his  great  name  profaned  with  their  scorns 

And  gave  his  countenance,  against  his  name, 

To  laugh  at  gibing  boys  and  stand  the  push 

Of  every  beardless  vain  comparative, 

Grew  a  companion  to  the  common  streets, 

Enfeoff 'd  himself  to  popularity ; 

That,  being  daily  swallow'd  by  men's  eyes,  70 

They  surfeited  with  honey  and  began 

To  loathe  the  taste  of  sweetness,  whereof  a  little 

More  than  a  little  is  by  much  too  much. 

So  when  he  had  occasion  to  be  seen, 

He  was  but  as  the  cuckoo  is  in  June, 

Heard,  not  regarded ;  seen,  but  with  such  eyes 

As,  sick  and  blunted  with  community, 

Afford  no  extraordinary  gaze, 

Such  as  is  bent  on  sun-like  majesty 

When  it  shines  seldom  in  admiring  eyes ;  wo 

But  rather  drowsed  and  hung  their  eyelids  down, 


68        KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Act 

Slept  in  his  face  and  render'd  such  aspect 
As  cloudy  men  use  to  their  adversaries, 
Being  with  his  presence  glutted,  gorged  and  full. 
And  in  that  very  line,  Harry,  standest  them ; 
For  thou  hast  lost  thy  princely  privilege 
With  vile  participation  :   not  an  eye 
But  is  a-weary  of  thy  common  sight, 
Save  mine,  which  hath  desired  to  see  thee  more ; 
90  Which  now  doth  that  I  would  not  have  it  do, 
Make  blind  itself  with  foolish  tenderness. 

Prince.     I   shall   hereafter,   my   thrice  gracious 

lord, 
Be  more  myself. 

King.  For  ill  the  world 

As  thou  art  to  this  hour  was  Richard  then 
When  I  from  France  set  foot  at  Ravenspurgh, 
And  even  as  I  was  then  is  Percy  now. 
Now,  by  my  sceptre  and  my  soul  to  boot, 
He  hath  more  worthy  interest  to  the  state 
Than  thou  the  shadow  of  succession  ; 

100  For  of  no  right,  nor  colour  like  to  right, 
He  doth  fill  fields  with  harness  in  the  realm, 
Turns  head  against  the  lion's  armed  jaws, 
And,  being  no  more  in  debt  to  years  than  thou, 
Leads  ancient  lords  and  reverend  bishops  on 
To  bloody  battles  and  to  bruising  arms. 
What  never-dying  honour  hath  he  got 
Against  renowned  Douglas !  whose  high  deeds, 
Whose  hot  incursions  and  great  name  in  arms 
Holds  from  all  soldiers  chief  majority 

no  And  military  title  capital 

Through  all  the  kingdoms  that  acknowledge  Christ : 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        69 

Thrice    hath    this    Hotspur,    Mars    in    swathling 

clothes, 

This  infant  warrior,  in  his  enterprizes 
Discomfited  great  Douglas,  ta'en  him  once, 
Enlarged  him  and  made  a  friend  of  him, 
To  fill  the  mouth  of  deep  defiance  up 
And  shake  the  peace  and  safety  of  our  throne. 
And  what  say  you  to  this?     Percy,  Northumber- 
land, 

The  Archbishop's  grace  of  York,  Douglas,  Mor- 
timer, 

Capitulate  against  us  and  are  up.  i2c 

But  wherefore  do  I  tell  these  news  to  thee  ? 
Why,  Harry,  do  I  tell  thee  of  my  foes, 
Which  art  my  near'st  and  dearest  enemy  ? 
Thou  that  art  like  enough,  through  vassal  fear, 
Base  inclination  and  the  start  of  spleen, 
To  fight  against  me  under  Percy's  pay, 
To  dog  his  heels  and  curtsy  at  his  frowns, 
To  show  how  much  thou  art  degenerate. 

Prince.     Do  not  think  so ;   you  shall  not  find  it 

so : 

And  God  forgive  them  that  so  much  have  sway'd    iso 
Your  majesty's  good  thoughts  away  from  me  ! 
I  will  redeem  all  this  on  Percy's  head 
And  in  the  closing  of  some  glorious  day 
Be  bold  to  tell  you  that  I  am  your  son ; 
When  I  will  wear  a  garment  all  of  blood 
And  stain  my  favours  in  a  bloody  mask, 
Which,  wash'd  away,  shall  scour  my  shame  with  it : 
And  that  shall  be  the  day,  whene'er  it  lights, 
That  this  same  child  of  honour  and  renown, 


70        KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  THBM 

HO  This  gallant  Hotspur,  this  all-praised  knight, 
Ami  your  unthought  -of  Harry  chance  to  meet. 
For  every  honour  sitting  on  his  helm, 
Would  they  were  multitudes,  and  on  my  head 
My  shames  redoubled  !  for  the  time  will  come 
That  I  shall  make  this  northern  youth  exchange 
His  glorious  deeds  for  my  indignities. 
Percy  is  but  my  factor,  good  my  lord, 
To  engross  up  glorious  deeds  on  my  behalf ; 
And  I  will  call  him  to  so  strict  account, 

150  That  he  shall  render  every  glory  up, 

Yea,  even  the  slightest  worship  of  his  time, 
Or  I  will  tear  the  reckoning  from  his  heart. 
This,  in  the  name  of  God,  I  promise  here : 
The  which  if  He  be  pleased  I  shall  perform, 
I  do  beseech  your  majesty  may  salve 
The  long-grown  wounds  of  my  intemperance : 
If  not,  the  end  of  life  cancels  all  bands ; 
And  I  will  die  a  hundred  thousand  deaths 
Ere  break  the  smallest  parcel  of  this  vow. 

leo     King.     A  hundred  thousand  rebels  die  in  this : 
Thou  shalt  have  charge  and  sovereign  trust  herein. 

Enter  BLUNT 

How  now,  good  Blunt  ?  thy  looks  are  full  of  speed. 
Blunt.     So  hath  the  business  that  I  come  to 

speak  of. 

Lord  Mortimer  of  Scotland  hath  sent  word 
That  Douglas  and  the  English  rebels  met 
The  eleventh  of  this  month  at  Shrewsbury : 
A  mighty  and  a  fearful  head  they  are, 
If  promises  be  kept  on  every  hand, 


SCENE  THREE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     71 

As  ever  offer'd  foul  play  in  a  state. 
King.     The  Earl  of  Westmoreland  set  forth  to- 
day ;  170 
With  him  my  son,  Lord  John  of  Lancaster ; 
For  this  advertisement  is  five  days  old : 
On  Wednesday  next,  Harry,  you  shall  set  forward ; 
On  Thursday  we  ourselves  will  march  :  our  meeting 
Is  Bridgenorth  :  and,  Harry,  you  shall  march 
Through  Gloucestershire ;   by  which  account, 
Our  business  valued,  some  twelve  days  hence 
Our  general  forces  at  Bridgenorth  shall  meet. 
Our  hands  are  full  of  business  :  let 's  away ; 
Advantage  feeds  him  fat,  while  men  delay.                iso 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Eastcheap.     The  Boar's-Head  Tavern 
Enter  FALSTAFF  and  BARDOLPH 

Fal.  Bardolph,  am  I  not  fallen  away  vilely 
since  this  last  action?  do  I  not  bate?  do  I  not 
dwindle?  Why,  my  skin  hangs  about  me  like  an 
old  lady's  loose  gown;  I  am  withered  like  an  old 
apple-john.  Well,  I  '11  repent,  and  that  suddenly, 
while  I  am  in  some  liking;  I  shall  be  out  of  heart 
shortly,  and  then  I  shall  have  no  strength  to 
repent.  An  I  have  not  forgotten  what  the  inside 
of  a  church  is  made  of,  I  am  a  peppercorn,  a 
brewer's  horse :  the  inside  of  a  church !  Com- 10 
pany,  villanous  company,  hath  been  the  spoil  of 
me. 

Bard.     Sir  John,  you  are  so  fretful,  you  can- 
not live  long. 


72        KINO  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  TURKS 

Fal.  Why,  there  is  it:  come  sing  me  a  song; 
make  me  merry.  I  was  as  virtuously  given  as  a 
gentleman  need  to  be ;  virtuous  enough ;  swore 
20  little ;  diced  not  above  seven  times  a  week ;  paid 
money  that  I  borrowed,  three  or  four  times ;  lived 
well  and  in  good  compass :  and  now  I  live  out  of 
all  order,  out  of  all  compass. 

Bard.  Why,  you  are  so  fat,  Sir  John,  that 
you  must  needs  be  out  of  all  compass,  out  of  all 
reasonable  compass,  Sir  John. 

Fal.  Do  thou  amend  thy  face,  and  I  '11  amend 
my  life :  thou  art  our  admiral,  thou  bearest  the 
lantern  in  the  poop,  but  't  is  in  the  nose  of  thee ; 
so  thou  art  the  Knight  of  the  Burning  Lamp. 

Bard.  Why,  Sir  John,  my  face  does  you  no 
harm. 

Fal.  No,  I  '11  be  sworn ;  I  make  as  good  use 
of  it  as  many  a  man  doth  of  a  Death's-head  or  a 
memento  mori :  I  never  see  thy  face  but  I  think 
upon  hell-fire  and  Dives  that  lived  in  purple; 
for  there  he  is  in  his  robes,  burning,  burning.  If 
thou  wert  any  way  given  to  virtue,  I  would  swear 
by  thy  face;  my  oath  should  be  "By  this  fire, 
40  that 's  God's  angel"  :  but  thou  art  altogether  given 
over;  and  wert  indeed,  but  for  the  light  in  thy 
face,  the  son  of  utter  darkness.  When  thou 
rannest  up  Gadshill  in  the  night  to  catch  my 
horse,  if  I  did  not  think  thou  hadst  been  an 
ignis  fatuus  or  a  ball  of  wildfire,  there 's  no  pur- 
chase in  money.  O,  thou  art  a  perpetual  tri- 
umph, an  everlasting  bonfire-light !  Thou  hast 
saved  me  a  thousand  marks  in  links  and  torches. 


SCENE  THREE]      KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      73 

walking  with  thee  in  the  night  betwixt  tavern 
and  tavern :  but  the  sack  that  thou  hast  drunk  so 
me  would  have  bought  me  lights  as  good  cheap 
at  the  dearest  chandler's  in  Europe.  I  have 
maintained  that  salamander  of  yours  with  fire 
any  time  this  two  and  thirty  years;  God  reward 
me  for  it. 

Bard.  'Sblood,  I  would  my  face  were  in  your 
belly ! 

Fal.  God-a-mercy !  so  should  I  be  sure  to  be 
heart-burned. 

Enter  Hostess 

How  now,  Dame  Partlet  the  hen !  have  you  in-  GO 
quired  yet  who  picked  my  pocket? 

Host.  Why,  Sir  John,  what  do  you  think, 
Sir  John?  do  you  think  I  keep  thieves  in  my 
house?  I  have  searched,  I  have  inquired,  so 
has  my  husband,  man  by  man,  boy  by  boy, 
servant  by  servant :  the  tithe  of  a  hair  was  never 
lost  in  my  house  before. 

Fal.  Ye  lie,  hostess  :  Bardolph  was  shaved  and 
lost  many  a  hair;  and  I  '11  be  sworn  my  pocket 
was  picked.  Go  to,  you  are  a  woman,  go.  70 

Host.  Who,  I?  no;  I  defy  thee:  God's  light, 
I  was  never  called  so  in  mine  own  house  before. 

Fal.     Go  to,  I  know  you  well  enough. 

Host.  No,  Sir  John;  you  do  not  know  me, 
Sir  John.  I  know  you,  Sir  John :  you  owe  me 
money,  Sir  John ;  and  how  you  pick  a  quarrel  to 
beguile  me  of  it :  I  bought  you  a  dozen  of  shirts 
to  your  back. 


74         KING   HENRY  THE   FXHJRTH     [Arr  THKEE 

Fal.  Dowlas,  filthy  dowlas :  I  have  given 
a)  them  away  to  bakers'  wives,  and  they  have  made 
bolters  of  them. 

Host.  Now,  as  I  am  a  true  woman,  holland 
of  eight  shillings  an  ell.  You  owe  money  here 
besides,  Sir  John,  for  your  diet  and  by-drink- 
ings,  and  money  lent  you,  four  and  twenty 
pound. 

Fal.     He  had  his  part  of  it ;   let  him  pay. 

Host.     He?  alas,  he  is  poor;    he  hath  nothing. 

Fal.  How!  poor?  look  upon  his  face;  what 
90 call  you  rich?  let  them  coin  his  nose,  let  them 
coin  his  cheeks :  I  '11  not  pay  a  denier.  What, 
will  you  make  a  younker  of  me?  shall  I  not  take 
mine  ease  in  mine  inn  but  I  shall  have  my  pocket 
picked  ?  I  have  lost  a  seal-ring  of  my  grand- 
father's worth  forty  mark. 

Host.  O  Jesu,  I  have  heard  the  prince  tell  him, 
I  know  not  how  oft,  that  that  ring  was  copj>er ! 

Fal.  How !  the  prince  is  a  Jack,  a  sneak-cup : 
100  'sblood,  an  he  were  here,  I  would  cudgel  him 
like  a  dog,  if  he  would  say  so. 

Enter  the  PRINCE  and  PETO,  marching,  and  FALSTAFF 
meets  them  playing  on  his  truncheon  like  a  fife 

How  now,  lad !  is  the  wind  in  that  door,  i'  faith  ? 
must  we  all  march  ? 

Bard.     Yea,  two  and  two,  Newgate  fashion. 

Host.     My  lord,  I  pray  you,  hear  me. 

Prince.  What  sayest  thou,  Mistress  Quickly? 
How  doth  thy  husband  ?  I  love  him  well ;  he 
is  an  honest  man. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING    HENRY   THE    FOURTH      7.) 

Host.     Good  my  lord,  hear  me. 

Fal.     Prithee,  let  her  alone,  and  list  to  me.          no 

Prince.     What  sayest  thou,  Jack? 

Fal.  The  other  night  I  fell  asleep  here  behind 
the  arras  and  had  my  pocket  picked :  this  house 
is  turned  bawdy-house;  they  pick  pockets. 

Prince.     What  didst  thou  lose,  Jack? 

Fal.  Wilt  thou  believe  me,  Hal?  three  or 
four  bonds  of  forty  pound  a-piece,  and  a  seal-ring 
of  my  grandfather's. 

Prince.     A  trifle,  some  eight-penny  matter. 

Host .     So   I   told   him,   my   lord ;    and  I   said  120 
I   heard  your  grace  say  so :    and,   my  lord,  he 
speaks   most  vilely  of  you,   like  a  foul-mouthed 
man  as  he  is ;  and  said  he  would  cudgel  you. 

Prince.     What !  he  did  not  ? 

Host .  There 's  neither  faith,  truth,  nor  woman- 
hood in  me  else. 

Fal.     There's  no  more  faith  in  thee  than  in  a 
stewed  prune ;  nor  no  more  truth  in  thee  than  in  a 
drawn  fox ;    and  for  womanhood,   Maid  Marian 
may  be  the  deputy's  wife  of  the  ward  to  thee.  130 
Go,  you  thing,  go. 

Host .     Say,  what  thing  ?  what  thing  ? 

Fal.  What  thing !  why,  a  thing  to  thank 
God  on. 

Host.  I  am  no  thing  to  thank  God  on,  I 
would  thou  shouldst  know  it;  I  am  an  honest 
man's  wife :  and,  setting  thy  knighthood  aside, 
thou  art  a  knave  to  call  me  so. 

Fal.  Setting  thy  womanhood  aside,  thou  art 
a  beast  to  say  otherwise.  1*0 


76        KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  THREE 

Ho.ti.     Say,  what  beast,  thou  knave,  tliou  ? 

Fal.     What  l>east !  why,  an  otter. 

Prince,     An  otter,  Sir  John  !  why  an  otter? 

FaL  Why,  she  's  neither  fish  nor  flesh  ;  a  man 
knows  not  where  to  have  her. 

Hoftt.  Thou  art  an  unjust  man  in  saying  so : 
tliou  or  any  man  knows  where  to  have  me,  thcu 
knave,  thou  ! 

Prince.     Thou    sayest    true,    hostess;     and    he 
iso  slanders  thee  most  grossly. 

Host.  So  he  doth  you,  my  lord ;  and  said  this 
other  day  you  ought  him  a  thousand  pound. 

Prince.  Sirrah,  do  I  owe  you  a  thousand 
pound  ? 

Fal.  A  thousand  pound,  Hal !  a  million : 
thy  love  is  worth  a  million :  thou  owest  me 
thy  love. 

Host.     Nay,  my  lord,  he  called  you  Jack,  and  said 
he  would  cudgel  you. 
ico     Fal.     Did  I,  Bardolph  ? 

Bard.     Indeed,  Sir  John,  you  said  so. 

FaL     Yea,  if  he  said  my  ring  was  copper. 

Prince.  I  say  't  is  copper :  darest  thou  be  as 
good  as  thy  word  now  ? 

FaL  Why,  Hal,  thou  knowest,  as  thou  art  but 
man,  I  dare :  but  as  thou  art  prince,  I  fear  thee 
as  I  fear  the  roaring  of  the  lion's  whelp. 

Prince.     And  why  not  a^  the  lion  ? 

Fal.     The  king  himself  is  to  be  feared  as  the 
i~o  lion  :     dost   thou   think   I    '11  fear  thee  as  I  fear 
thy  father?  nay,  an  I  do,  I  pray  God  my  girdle 
break. 


SCENE  THREE]      KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      77 

Prince.  O,  if  it  should,  how  would  thy  guts 
fall  about  thy  knees !  But,  sirrah,  there  's  no 
room  for  faith,  truth,  nor  honesty  in  this  bosom 
of  thine;  it  is  filled  up  with  guts  and  midriff. 
Charge  an  honest  woman  with  picking  thy  pocket ! 
why,  thou  impudent,  embossed  rascal,  if  there 
were  anything  in  thy  pocket  but  tavern-reckon- 
ings, and  one  poor  penny-worth  of  sugar-candy  iso 
to  make  thee  long-winded,  if  thy  pocket  were 
enriched  with  any  other  injuries  but  these,  I  am 
a  villain :  and  yet  you  will  stand  to  it ;  you  will 
not  pocket  up  wrong :  art  thou  not  ashamed  ? 

Fal.  Dost  thou  hear,  Hal?  thou  knowest  in 
the  state  of  innocency  Adam  fell ;  and  what  should 
poor  Jack  Falstaff  do  in  the  days  of  villany? 
Thou  seest  I  have  more  flesh  than  another  man, 
and  therefore  more  frailty.  You  confess  then, 
you  picked  my  pocket?  190 

Prince.     It  appears  so  by  the  story. 

Fal.  Hostess,  I  forgive  thee :  go,  make  ready 
breakfast ;  love  thy  husband,  look  to  thy  servants, 
cherish  thy  guests :  thou  shalt  find  me  tractable 
to  any  honest  reason :  thou  seest  I  am  pacified 
still.  Nay,  prithee,  begone.  [Exit  Hostess.]  Now, 
Hal,  to  the  news  at  court :  for  the  robbery,  lad. 
how  is  that  answered  ? 

Prince.  O,  my  sweet  beef,  I  must  still  be  good 
angel  to  thee  :  the  money  is  paid  back  again.  200 

Fal.  O,  I  do  not  like  that  paying  back ;  't  is  a 
double  labour. 

Prince.  I  am  good  friends  with  my  father  and 
may  do  any  thing. 


78          KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Act  FOUR 

FaL     Rob    me    the   exchequer    the    first    thing 
thou  doest,  and  do  it  with  unwashed  hands  too. 

Hard.     Do,  my  lord. 

Prince.     I  have  procured  thee,  Jack,  a  charge  of 
foot. 

210  Fo.1-  I  would  it  had  been  of  horse.  Where 
shall  I  find  one  that  can  steal  well  ?  O  for  a  fine 
thief,  of  the  age  of  two  and  twenty  or  there- 
abouts !  I  am  heinously  unprovided.  Well,  God 
be  thanked  for  these  rebels,  they  offend  none  but 
the  virtuous :  I  laud  them,  I  praise  them. 

Prince.     Bardolph ! 

Bard.     My  lord  ? 

Prince.  Go  l>ear  this  letter  to  Lord  John  of 
Lancaster,  to  nay  brother  John ;  this  to  my  Ix>rd 
220  of  Westmoreland.  [Exit  Bardolph.}  Go,  Peto, 
to  horse,  to  horse;  for  thou  and  I  have  thirty 
miles  to  ride  yet  ere  dinner  time.  [Exit  Peto.] 
Jack,  meet  me  to-morrow  in  the  Temple  hall  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
There  shalt  thou  know  thy  charge ;  and  there 

receive 

Money  and  order  for  their  furniture. 
The  land  is  burning ;   Percy  stands  on  high ; 
And  either  we  or  they  must  lower  lie.  [Exit. 

Fal.     Rare  words !  brave  world !     Hostess,  my 

breakfast,  come ! 
230  O,  I  could  wish  this  tavern  were  my  drum  !     [Exit. 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         79 

ACT  IV 

SCENE  I  —  The  rebel  camp  near  Shrewsbury 
Enter  HOTSPUR,  WORCESTER,  and  DOUGLAS 

Hot.     Well  said,   my  noble  Scot :    if  speaking 

truth 

In  this  fine  age  were  not  thought  flattery, 
Such  attribution  should  the  Douglas  have, 
As  not  a  soldier  of  this  season's  stamp 
Should  go  so  general  current  through  the  world. 
By  God,  I  cannot  flatter ;  I  do  defy 
The  tongues  of  soothers ;  but  a  braver  place 
In  my  heart's  love  hath  no  man  than  yourself : 
Nay,  task  me  to  my  word ;  approve  me,  lord. 

Doug.     Thou  art  the  king  of  honour :  10 

No  man  so  potent  breathes  upon  the  ground 
But  I  will  beard  him. 

Hot.  Do  so,  and  't  is  well. 

Enter  a  Messenger  with  letters 

What  letters  hast  thou  there  ?  —  I  can  but  thank 

you. 

Mess.     These  letters  come  from  your  father. 
Hot.     Letters  from  him !  why  comes  he  not  him- 
self? 
Mess.     He  cannot  come,  my  lord ;  he  is  grievous 

sick. 

Hot.     'Zounds  !  how  has  he  the  leisure  to  be  sick 
In  such  a  justling  time  ?     Who  leads  his  power  ? 
Under  whose  government  come  they  along  ? 

Mess.     His  letters  bear  his  mind,  not  I,  my  lord.  20 


80          KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  FOOB 

Wor.     I  prithee,  tell  me,  doth  he  keep  his  Ixxl  ? 

Menu.     He  did,  my  lord,  four  days  ere  I  set  forth  ; 
And  at  the  time  of  my  departure  thence 
He  was  much  fear'd  by  his  physicians. 

Wor.     I  would  the  state  of  time  had  first  been 

whole 

Ere  he  by  sickness  had  been  visited  : 
His  health  was  never  better  worth  than  now. 

Hot.     Sick  now !  droop  now !  this  sickness  doth 

infect 

The  very  life-blood  of  our  enterprise ; 
30  'T  is  catching  hither,  even  to  our  camp. 
He  writes  me  here,  that  inward  sickness  — 
And  that  his  friends  by  deputation  could  not 
So  soon  be  drawn,  nor  did  he  think  it  meet 
To  lay  so  dangerous  and  dear  a  trust 
On  any  soul  removed  but  on  his  own. 
Yet  doth  he  give  us  bold  advertisement, 
That  with  our  small  conjunction  we  should  on, 
To  see  how  fortune  is  disposed  to  us ; 
For,  as  he  writes,  there  is  no  quailing  now, 
40  Because  the  king  is  certainly  possess'd 
Of  all  our  purposes.     What  say  you  to  it  ? 

Wor.     Your  father's  sickness  is  a  maim  to  us. 

Hot.     A  perilous  gash,  a  very  limb  lopp'd  off : 
And  yet,  in  faith,  it  is  not ;   his  present  want 
Seems  more  than  we  shall  find  it :   were  it  good 
To  set  the  exact  wealth  of  all  our  states 
All  at  one  cast  ?  to  set  so  rich  a  main 
On  the  nice  hazard  of  one  doubtful  hour  ? 
It  were  not  good ;   for  therein  should  we  read 
so  The  very  bottom  and  the  soul  of  hope, 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        81 

The  very  list,  the  very  utmost  bound 
Of  all  our  fortunes. 

Doug.  'Faith,  and  so  we  should ; 

Where  now  remains  a  sweet  reversion : 
We  may  boldly  spend  upon  the  hope  of  what 
Is  to  come  in  : 
A  comfort  of  retirement  lives  in  this. 

Hot.     A  rendezvous,  a  home  to  fly  unto, 
If  that  the  devil  and  mischance  look  big 
Upon  the  maidenhead  of  our  affairs. 

Wor.     But  yet  I  would  your  father  had  been  here,  ec 
The  quality  and  hair  of  our  attempt 
Brooks  no  division :  it  will  be  thought 
By  some,  that  know  not  why  he  is  away, 
That  wisdom,  loyalty  and  mere  dislike 
Of  our  proceedings  kept  the  earl  from  hence : 
And  think  how  such  an  apprehension 
May  turn  the  tide  of  fearful  faction 
And  breed  a  kind  of  question  in  our  cause ; 
For  well  you  know  we  of  the  offering  side 
Must  keep  aloof  from  strict  arbitrement,  70 

And  stop  all  sight-holes,  every  loop  from  whence 
The  eye  of  reason  may  pry  in  upon  us  : 
This  absence  of  your  father's  draws  a  curtain, 
That  shows  the  ignorant  a  kind  of  fear 
Before  not  dreamt  of. 

Hot.  You  strain  too  far. 

I  rather  of  his  absence  make  this  use : 
It  lends  a  lustre  and  more  great  opinion, 
A  larger  dare  to  our  great  enterprise, 
Than  if  the  earl  were  here ;   for  men  must  think, 
If  we  without  his  help  can  make  a  head  so 


8*  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FOUB 

To  push  against  a  kingdom,  with  his  help 
We  shall  o'erturn  it  topsy-turvy  down. 
Yet  all  goes  well,  yet  all  our  joints  are  whole. 
Doug.     As  heart  can  think  :   there  is  not  such  a 

word 
Spoke  of  in  Scotland  as  this  term  of  fear. 

Enter  SIR  RICHARD  VERNON 

Hot.     My  cousin  Vernon !  welcome,  by  my  soul. 

Ver.     Pray  God  my  news  be  worth  a  welcome, 

lord. 

The  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  seven  thousand  strong, 
Is  marching  hitherwards ;   with  him  Prince  John. 

Hot.     No  harm  :   what  more  ? 

w       Ver.  And  further,  I  have  learn 'd, 

The  king  himself  in  person  is  set  forth, 
Or  hitherwards  intended  speedily, 
With  strong  and  mighty  preparation. 

Hot.     He  shall  be  welcome  too.     Where  is  his  son, 
The  nimble-footed  madcap  Prince  of  Wales, 
And  his  comrades,  that  daff'd  the  world  aside, 
And  bid  it  pass  ? 

Ver.  All  furnish 'd,  all  in  arms ; 

All  plumed  like  estridges  that  with  the  wind 
Bated,  like  eagles  having  lately  bathed ; 
100  Glittering  in  golden  coats,  like  images ; 
As  full  of  spirit  as  the  month  of  May, 
And  gorgeous  as  the  sun  at  midsummer ; 
Wanton  as  youthful  goats,  wild  as  young  bulls. 
I  saw  young  Harry,  with  his  beaver  on, 
His  cuisses  on  his  thighs,  gallantly  arm'd, 
Rise  from  the  ground  like  feather'd  Mercury, 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         83 

And  vaulted  with  such  ease  into  his  seat, 
As  if  an  angel  dropp'd  down  from  the  clouds, 
To  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegasus 
And  witch  the  world  with  noble  horsemanship.         no 
Hot.     No  more,  no  more :    worse  than  the  sun 

in  March, 

This  praise  doth  nourish  agues.     Let  them  come; 
They  come  like  sacrifices  in  their  trim, 
And  to  the  fire-eyed  maid  of  smoky  war 
All  hot  and  bleeding  will  we  offer  them : 
The  mailed  Mars  shall  on  his  altar  sit 
Up  to  the  ears  in  blood.     I  am  on  fire 
To  hear  this  rich  reprisal  is  so  nigh 
And  yet  not  ours.     Come,  let  me  taste  my  horse, 
Who  is  to  bear  me  like  a  thunderbolt  120 

Against  the  bosom  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  : 
Harry  to  Harry  shall,  hot  horse  to  horse, 
Meet  and  ne'er  part  till  one  drop  down  a  corse. 

0  that  Glendower  were  come  ! 

Ver.  There  is  more  news : 

1  learn'd  in  Worcester,  as  I  rode  along, 

He  cannot  draw  his  power  this  fourteen  days. 
Doug.     That  's  the  worst  tidings  that  I  hear  of 

yet. 
Wor.    Ay,   by   my  faith,   that  bears   a  frosty 

sound. 
Hot.    What  may  the  king's  whole  battle  reach 

unto  ? 

Ver.     To  thirty  thousand. 

Hot.  Forty  let  it  be :         130 

My  father  and  Glendower  being  both  away, 
The  powers  of  us  may  serve  so  great  a  day. 


84          KING  HENRY  THE  MJURTH     [Ac-r  FOUR 

Come,  let  us  take  a  muster  speedily  : 
Doomsday  is  near ;  die  all,  die  merrily. 

Doug.     Talk  not  of  dying :    I  am  out  of  fear 
Of  death  or  death's  hand  for  this  one-half  year. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  A  public  road  near  Coventry 
Enter  FALSTAFF  and  BAKDOL.PH 

Fal.  Bardolph,  get  thee  before  to  Coventry; 
fill  me  a  bottle  of  sack :  our  soldiers  shall  march 
through ;  we  '11  to  Sutton  Co'hT  to-night. 

Bard.     Will  you  give  me  money,  captain  ? 

Fal.     Lay  out,  lay  out. 

Bard.     This  bottle  makes  an  angel. 

Fal.  An  if  it  do,  take  it  for  thy  labour ;  and  if  it 
make  twenty,  take  them  all ;  I  '11  answer  the  coinage. 
10  Bid  my  lieutenant  Peto  meet  me  at  town's  end. 

Bard.     I  will,  captain :    farewell.  [Exit. 

Fal.  If  I  be  not  ashamed  of  my  soldiers,  I  am 
a  soused  gurnet.  I  have  misused  the  king's  press 
damnably.  I  have  got,  in  exchange  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  soldiers,  three  hundred  and  odd  pounds. 
I  press  me  none  but  good  householders,  yeomen's 
sons;  inquire  me  out  contracted  bachelors,  such 
as  had  been  asked  twice  on  the  banns;  such  a 
commodity  of  warm  slaves,  as  had  as  lieve  hear 
20  the  devil  as  a  drum ;  such  as  fear  the  report  of  a 
caliver  worse  than  a  struck  fowl  or  a  hurt  wild- 
duck.  I  pressed  me  none  but  such  toasts-and- 
butter,  with  hearts  in  their  bellies  no  bigger  than 
pins'  heads,  and  they  have  bought  out  their  ser- 


SCENE  Two]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH         85 

vices;  and  now  my  whole  charge  consists  of 
ancients,  corporals,  lieutenants,  gentlemen  of 
companies,  slaves  as  ragged  as  Lazarus  in  the 
painted  cloth,  where  the  glutton's  dogs  licked  his 
sores;  and  such  as  indeed  were  never  soldiers, 
but  discarded  unjust  serving-men,  younger  sons  so 
to  younger  brothers,  revolted  tapsters  and  ostlers 
trade-fallen,  the  cankers  of  a  calm  world  and  a 
long  peace,  ten  times  more  dishonourable  ragged 
than  an  old  faced  ancient :  and  such  have  I,  to 
fill  up  the  rooms  of  them  that  have  bought  out 
their  services,  that  you  would  think  that  I  had  a 
hundred  and  fifty  tattered  prodigals  lately  come 
from  swine-keeping,  from  eating  draff  and  husks. 
A  mad  fellow  met  me  on  the  way  and  told  me  I 
had  unloaded  all  the  gibbets  and  pressed  the  40 
dead  bodies.  No  eye  hath  seen  such  scarecrows. 
I  '11  not  march  through  Coventry  with  them, 
that  's  flat :  nay,  and  the  villains  march  wide 
betwixt  the  legs,  as  if  they  had  gyves  on ;  for 
indeed  I  had  the  most  of  them  out  of  prison. 
There  's  but  a  shirt  and  a  half  in  all  my  company ; 
and  the  half  shirt  is  two  napkins  tacked  together 
and  thrown  over  the  shoulders  like  an  herald's 
coat  without  sleeves;  and  the  shirt,  to  say  the 
truth,  stolen  from  my  host  at  Saint  Alban's,  or  the  so 
red-nose  innkeeper  of  Daventry.  But  that  's  all 
one ;  they  '11  find  linen  enough  on  every  hedge. 

Enter  the  PRINCE  and  WESTMORELAND 

Prince.     How  now,  blown  Jack  !  how  now,  quilt ! 
Fed.     What,  Hal !  how  now,  mad  wag  !  what  a 


80          KINO   HENRY  THE   FOrRTH     [Acr  Focn 

devil  dost  thou  in  Warwickshire?  My  good  Lord 
of  Westmoreland,  I  cry  you  mercy  :  I  thought  your 
honour  had  already  been  at  Shrewsbury. 
eo  West.  Faith,  Sir  John,  't  is  more  than  time 
that  I  were  there,  and  you  too ;  but  my  powers 
are  there  already.  The  king,  I  can  tell  you, 
looks  for  us  all :  we  must  away  all  night. 

Fal.  Tut,  never  fear  me :  I  am  as  vigilant  as 
a  cat  to  steal  cream. 

Prince.  I  think,  to  steal  cream  indeed,  for  thy 
theft  hath  already  made  thee  butter.  But  tell 
me,  Jack,  whose  fellows  are  these  that  come  after? 

Fal.     Mine,  Hal,  mine. 
70      Prince.     I  did  never  see  such  pitiful  rascals. 

Fal.  Tut,  tut ;  good  enough  to  toss ;  food  for 
powder,  food  for  powder;  they  '11  fill  a  pit  as  well 
as  better :  tush,  man,  mortal  men,  mortal  men. 

West.  Ay,  but,  Sir  John,  methinks  they  are 
exceeding  i>oor  and  bare,  too  beggarly. 

Fal.  'Faith,  for  their  poverty,  I  know  not 
where  they  had  that ;  and  for  their  bareness,  I 
am  sure  they  never  learned  that  of  me. 

Prince.     No,    I  '11  be  sworn ;     unless    you    call 
so  three  fingers  on  the  ribs  bare.     But,  sirrah,  make 
haste  :   Percy  is  already  in  the  field. 

Fal.     What,  is  the  king  encamped  ? 

West.     He  is.  Sir  John  :   I  fear  we  ?hall  stay  too 
long. 

Fal.     Well, 
To  the  latter  end  of  a  fray  and  the  beginning  of 

a  feast 
Fits  a  dull  fighter  and  a  keen  guest.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH      87 

SCENE  III  —  The  rebel  camp  near  Shrewsbury 

Enter  HOTSPUR,  WORCESTER,  DOUGLAS,  and  VERNON 

Hot.     We  '11  fight  with  him  to-night. 

Wor.     •  It  may  not  be. 

Doug.     You  give  him  then  advantage. 

Ver.  Not  a  whit. 

Hot.     Why  say  you  so  ?  looks  he  not  for  supply  ? 

Ver.     So  do  we. 

Hot.  His  is  certain,  ours  is  doubtful. 

Wor.     Good  cousin,  be  advised ;  stir  not  to-night. 

Ver.     Do  not,  my  lord. 

Doug.  You  do  not  counsel  well : 

You  speak  it  out  of  fear  and  cold  heart. 

Ver.     Do  me  no  slander,  Douglas  :  by  my  life, 
And  I  dare  well  maintain  it  with  my  life, 
If  well-respected  honour  bid  me  on,  10 

I  hold  as  little  counsel  with  weak  fear 
As  you,  my  lord,  or  any  Scot  that  this  day  lives : 
Let  it  be  seen  to-morrow  in  the  battle 
Which  of  us  fears. 

Doug.  Yea,  or  to-night. 

Ver.  Content. 

Hot.     To-night,  say  I. 

Ver.     Come,  come,  it  may  not   be.     I  wonder 

much, 

Being  men  of  such  great  leading  as  you  are, 
That  you  foresee  not  what  impediments 
Drag  back  our  expedition  :  certain  horse 
Of  my  cousin  Vernon's  are  not  yet  come  up :  20 

Your  uncle  Worcester's  horse  came  but  to-day ; 


88          KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  FOUB 

And  now  their  pride  and  mettle  is  asleep, 
Their  courage  with  hard  lal>our  tame  and  dull, 
That  not  a  horse  is  half  the  half  of  himself. 

Hot.     So  are  the  horses  of  the  enemy 
In  general,  journey-hated  and  brought  low : 
The  better  part  of  ours  are  full  of  rest. 

Wor.     The  number  of  the  king  exceedeth  ours : 
For  God's  sake,  cousin,  stay  till  all  come  in. 

[The  trumpet  sounds  a  parley. 

Kilter  Sin  WALTER  BLUNT 

so     Blunt.     I  come  with  gracious  offers  from   the 

king, 
If  you  vouchsafe  me  hearing  and  respect. 

Hot.     Welcome,  Sir  \Valter  Blunt ;    and  would 

to  God 

You  were  of  our  determination  ! 
Some  of  us  love  you  well ;   and  even  those  some 
Envy  your  great  deservings  and  good  name, 
Because  you  are  not  of  our  quality, 
But  stand  against  us  like  an  enemy. 

Blunt.     And  God  defend  but  still  I  should  stand 

so, 

So  long  as  out  of  limit  and  true  rule 
40  You  stand  against  anointed  majesty. 

But  to  my  charge.     The  king  hath  sent  to  know 
The  nature  of  your  griefs,  and  whereupon 
You  conjure  from  the  breast  of  civil  j>eace 
Such  bold  hostility,  teaching  his  duteous  land 
Audacious  cruelty.     If  that  the  king 
Have  any  way  your  good  deserts  forgot, 
Which  he  confesseth  to  be  manifold, 


SCENE  THREE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     89 

He  bids  you  name  your  griefs ;  and  with  all  speed 
You  shall  have  your  desires  with  interest 
And  pardon  absolute  for  yourself  and  these  so 

Herein  misled  by  your  suggestion. 

Hot.     The  king  is  kind;   and  well  we  know  the 

king 

Knows  at  what  time  to  promise,  when  to  pay. 
My  father  and  my  uncle  and  myself 
Did  give  him  that  same  royalty  he  wears ; 
And  when  he  was  not  six  and  twenty  strong, 
Sick  in  the  world's  regard,  wretched  and  low, 
A  poor  unminded  outlaw  sneaking  home, 
My  father  gave  him  welcome  to  the  shore ; 
And  when  he  heard  him  swear  and  vow  to  God        eo 
He  came  but  to  be  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
To  sue  his  livery  and  beg  his  peace, 
With  tears  of  innocency  and  terms  of  zeal, 
My  father,  in  kind  heart  and  pity  moved, 
Swore  him  assistance  and  perform'd  it  too. 
Now  when  the  lords  and  barons  of  the  realm 
Perceived  Northumberland  did  lean  to  him, 
The  more  and  less  came  in  with  cap  and  knee 
Met  him  in  boroughs,  cities,  villages, 
Attended  him  on  bridges,  stood  in  lanes,  TO 

Laid  gifts  before  him,  proffer 'd  him  their  oaths, 
Gave  him  their  heirs  as  pages ;  follow'd  him 
Even  at  the  heels  in  golden  multitudes. 
He  presently,  as  greatness  knows  itself, 
Steps  me  a  little  higher  than  his  vow 
Made  to  my  father,  while  his  blood  was  poor, 
Upon  the  naked  shore  at  Ravenspurgh ; 
And  now,  forsooth,  takes  on  him  to  reform 


90          KINT.   HEXUY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FOUB 

Some  certain  edicts  and  some  strait  decrees 
do  That  lie  too  heavy  on  the  commonwealth, 
Cries  out  upon  abuses,  seems  to  weep 
Over  his  country's  wrongs ;   and  by  this  face, 
This  seeming  brow  of  justice,  did  he  win 
The  hearts  of  all  that  he  did  angle  for ; 
Proceeded  further ;  cut  me  off  the  heads 
Of  all  the  favourites  that  the  absent  king 
In  deputation  left  behind  him  here, 
When  he  was  personal  in  the  Irish  war. 

Blunt.     Tut,  I  came  not  to  hear  this. 

Hot.  Then  to  the  point. 

90  In  short  time  after,  he  deposed  the  king ; 
Soon  after  that,  deprived  him  of  his  life ; 
And  in  the  neck  of  that,  task'd  the  whole  state ; 
To  make  that  worse,  suffer'd  his  kinsman  March, 
Who  is,  if  every  owner  were  well  placed, 
Indeed  his  king,  to  be  engaged  in  Wales, 
There  without  ransom  to  lie  forfeited ; 
Disgraced  me  in  my  happy  victories, 
Sought  to  entrap  me  by  intelligence ; 
Rated  mine  uncle  from  the  council-board ; 
100  In  rage  dismiss'd  my  father  from  the  court ; 
Broke  oath  on  oath,  committed  wrong  on  wrong, 
And  in  conclusion  drove  us  to  seek  out 
This  head  of  safety ;  and  withal  to  pry 
Into  his  title,  the  which  we  find 
Too  indirect  for  long  continuance. 

Blunt.     Shall  I  return  this  answer  to  the  king? 

Hot.     Not  so,  Sir  Walter :  we  '11  withdraw  awhile. 
Go  to  the  king;   and  let  there  be  impawn'd 
Some  surety  for  a  safe  return  again, 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       91 

And  in  the  morning  early  shall  my  uncle  no 

Bring  him  our  purposes ;   and  so  farewell. 

Blunt.     I  would  you  would  accept  of  grace  and 

love. 

Hot.     And  may  be  so  we  shall. 
Blunt.  Pray  God  you  do. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV  —  York.     The  ARCHBISHOP'S  palace 
Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP  OF  YORK  and  SIR  MICHAEL 

Arch.     Hie,  good  Sir  Michael;   bear  this  sealed 

brief 

With  winged  haste  to  the  lord  marshal ; 
This  to  my  cousin  Scroop,  and  all  the  rest 
To  whom  they  are  directed.     If  you  knew 
How  much  they  do  import,  you  would  make  haste. 

Sir  M.     My  good  lord, 
I  guess  their  tenour. 

Arch.  Like  enough  you  do. 

To-morrow,  good  Sir  Michael,  is  a  day 
Wherein  the  fortune  of  ten  thousand  men 
Must  bide  the  touch ;  for,  sir,  at  Shrewsbury,           10 
As  I  am  truly  given  to  understand, 
The  king  with  mighty  and  quick-raised  power 
Meets  with  Lord  Harry :  and,  I  fear,  Sir  Michael, 
What  with  the  sickness  of  Northumberland, 
Whose  power  was  in  the  first  proportion, 
And  what  with  Owen  Glendower's  absence  thence, 
Who  with  them  was  a  rated  sinew  too 
And  comes  not  in,  o'er-ruled  by  prophecies, 
I  fear  the  power  of  Percy  is  too  weak 


92  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [AIT  FIVK 

ao To  wage  an  instant  trial  with  the  king. 

Sir  M.     Why,  my  good  lord,  you  need  not  fear; 
There  is  Douglas  and  Ix>rd  Mortimer. 
Arch.     No,  Mortimer  is  not  there. 
Sir  M.     But  there  is  Mordake,   Vernon,   Lord 

Harry  Percy, 

And  there  is  my  Lord  of  Worcester  and  a  head 
Of  gallant  warriors,  noble  gentlemen. 

Arch.     And  so  there  is:    but  yet  the  king  hath 

drawn 

The  special  head  of  all  the  land  together : 
The  Prince  of  Wales,  Lord  John  of  Lancaster, 
30 The  noble  Westmoreland  and  warlike  Blunt; 
And  many  moe  corrivals  and  dear  men 
Of  estimation  and  command  in  arms. 

Sir  M.     Doubt  not,  my  lord,  they  shall  be  well 

opposed. 

Arch.     I  hope  no  less,  yet  needful  't  is  to  fear; 
And,  to  prevent  the  worst,  Sir  Michael,  speed : 
For  if  Lord  Percy  thrive  not,  ere  the  king 
Dismiss  his  power,  he  means  to  visit  us, 
For  he  hath  heard  of  our  confederacy, 
And  't  is  but  wisdom  to  make  strong  against  him  : 
40  Therefore  make  haste.     I  must  go  write  again 
To  other  friends;  and  so  farewell,  Sir  Michael. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        93 

ACT  V 

SCENE  I  —  The  KING'S  camp  near  Shrewsbury 

Enter  the  KING,  PRINCE  OF  WALES,  LORD  JOHN  OF  LAN- 
CASTER, SIR  WALTER  BLUNT,  and  FALSTAFF 

King.     How  bloodily  the  sun  begins  to  peer 
Above  yon  dusky  hill !  the  day  looks  pale 
At  his  distemperature. 

Prince.  The  southern  wind 

Doth  play  the  trumpet  to  his  purposes, 
And  by  his  hollow  whistling  in  the  leaves 
Foretells  a  tempest  and  a  blustering  day. 

King.     Then  with  the  losers  let  it  sympathise, 
For  nothing  can  seem  foul  to  those  that  win. 

[The  trumpet  sounds. 

Enter  WORCESTER  and  VERNON 

How  now,  my  lord  of  Worcester  !  't  is  not  well 
That  you  and  I  should  meet  upon  such  terms  10 

As  now  we  meet.     You  have  deceived  our  trust  A  • 
And  made  us  doff  our  easy  robes  of  peace, 
To  crush  our  old  limbs  in  ungentle  steel : 
This  is  not  well,  my  lord,  this  is  not  well. 
What  say  you  to  it  ?  will  you  again  unknit 
This  churlish  knot  of  all-abhorred  war  ? 
And  move  in  that  obedient  orb  again 
Where  you  did  give  a  fair  and  natural  light, 
And  be  no  more  an  exhaled  meteor, 
A  prodigy  of  fear  and  a  portent  20 

Of  broached  mischief  to  the  unborn  times  ? 
War.     Hear  me,  my  liege  : 


<H  KING   HENRY  THE   KOt  RTII     [ACT  FIVE 

For  mine  own  part,  I  could  bo  well  content 
To  entertain  the  lug-end  of  my  life 
With  quiet  hours ;   for  I  do  protest, 
I  have  not  sought  the  day  of  this  dislike. 

King.     You  have  not  sought  it  !  how  conies  it, 

then  ? 

Fal.     Rel>ellion  lay  in  his  way,  and  he  found  it. 
Prince.     Peace,  chewet,  peace  ! 

30      Wor.     It  pleased  your  majesty  to  turn  your  looks 
Of  favour  from  myself  and  all  our  house ; 
And  yet  I  must  remember  you,  my  lord, 
We  were  the  first  and  dearest  of  your  friends. 
For  you  my  staff  of  office  did  I  break 
In  Richard's  time ;   and  posted  day  and  night 
To  meet  you  on  the  way,  and  kiss  your  hand, 
When  yet  you  were  in  place  and  in  account 
Nothing  so  strong  and  fortunate  as  I. 
It  was  myself,  my  brother  and  his  son, 

40  That  brought  you  home  and  boldly  did  outdare 

The  dangers  of  the  time.     You  swore  to  us, 
•  And  you  did  swear  that  oath  at  Doncaster, 
That  you  did  nothing  purpose  'gainst  the  state ; 
Nor  claim  no  further  than  your  new-fall'n  right, 
The  seat  of  Gaunt,  dukedom  of  Lancaster : 
To  this  we  swore  our  aid.     But  in  short  space 
It  rain'd  down  fortune  showering  on  your  head: 
And  such  a  flood  of  greatness  fell  on  you, 
What  with  our  help,  what  with  the  absent  king, 

50  What  with  the  injuries  of  a  wanton  time, 
The  seeming  sufferances  that  you  had  borne. 
And  the  contrarious  winds  that  held  the  king 
So  long  in  his  unlucky  Irish  wars 


SCENE  ONE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH         95 

That  all  in  England  did  repute  him  dead : 

And  from  this  swarm  of  fair  advantages 

You  took  occasion  to  be  quickly  woo'd 

To  gripe  the  general  sway  into  your  hand ; 

Forgot  your  oath  to  us  at  Doncaster ; 

And  being  fed  by  us  you  used  us  so 

As  that  ungentle  gull,  the  cuckoo's  bird,  ec 

Useth  the  sparrow ;   did  oppress  our  nest ; 

Grew  by  our  feeding  to  so  great  a  bulk 

That  even  our  love  durst  not  come  near  your  sight 

For  fear  of  swallowing ;  but  with  nimble  wing 

We  were  enforced,  for  safety  sake,  to  fly 

Out  of  your  sight  and  raise  this  present  head ; 

Whereby  we  stand  opposed  by  such  means 

As  you  yourself  have  forged  against  yourself 

By  unkind  usage,  dangerous  countenance, 

And  violation  of  all  faith  and  troth  70 

Sworn  to  us  in  your  younger  enterprise. 

King.     These  things  indeed  you  have  articulate, 
Proclaim'd  at  market-crosses,  read  in  churches, 
To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion 
With  some  fine  colour  that  may  please  the  eye 
Of  fickle  changelings  and  poor  discontents, 
Which  gape  and  rub  the  elbow  at  the  news' 
Of  hurlyburly  innovation : 
And  never  yet  did  insurrection  want 
Such  water-colours  to  impaint  his  cause ;  so 

Nor  moody  beggars,  starving  for  a  time 
Of  pellmell  havoc  and  confusion. 

Prince.     In  both  your  armies  there  is  many  a  soul 
Shall  pay  full  dearly  for  this  encounter, 
If  once  they  join  in  trial.     Tell  your  nephew, 


96  KING   HENRY  THE   FW'RTII     [A<-r  FIVE 

The  Prince  of  Wales  doth  join  with  all  the  world 
In  praise  of  Henry  Percy  :   l>y  my  hopes, 
This  present  enterprise  set  off  his  head, 
I  do  not  think  a  braver  gentleman, 
90  More  active-valiant  or  more  valiant-young, 
More  daring  or  more  hold,  is  now  alive 
To  grace  this  latter  age  with  noble  deeds. 
For  my  part,  I  may  sj>eak  it  to  my  shame 
I  have  a  truant  been  to  chivalry ; 
And  so  I  hear  he  doth  account  me  too ; 
Yet  this  before  my  father's  majesty  - 
I  am  content  that  he  shall  take  the  odds 
Of  his  great  name  and  estimation, 
And  will,  to  save  the  blood  on  either  side, 

100  Try  fortune  with  him  in  a  single  fight. 

King.     And,  Prince  of  Wales,  so  dare  we  venture 

thee, 

Albeit  considerations  infinite 
Do  make  against  it.     No,  good  Worcester,  no, 
We  love  our  j>eople  well ;   even  those  we  love 
That  are  misled  upon  your  cousin's  part ; 
And,  will  they  take  the  offer  of  our  grace, 
Both  he  and  they  and  you,  yea,  every  man 
Shall  be  my  friend  again  and  I  '11  be  his : 
So  tell  your  cousin,  and  bring  me  word 

110  What  he  will  do :  but  if  he  will  not  yield, 
Rebuke  and  dread  correction  wait  on  us 
And  they  shall  do  their  office.     So,  be  gone ; 
We  will  not  now  l>e  troubled  with  reply : 
We  offer  fair ;   take  it  advisedly. 

[Exeunt  Worcester  and  Vernon. 
Prince.     It  will  not  be  accepted,  on  my  life : 


SCENE  ONE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         97 

The  Douglas  and  the  Hotspur  both  together 
Are  confident  against  the  world  in  arms. 

King.     Hence,    therefore,    every    leader   to   his 

charge ; 

For,  on  their  answer,  will  we  set  on  them : 
And  God  befriend  us,  as  our  cause  is  just !  i2( 

[Exeunt  all  but  the  Prince  of  Wales 
and  Falstajf. 

Fal.     Hal,  if  thou  see  me  down  in  the  battle 
and  bestride  me,  so ;   't  is  a  point  of  friendship. 

Prince.     Nothing  but  a  colossus  can  do  thee 
that  friendship.     Say  thy  prayers,  and  farewell. 

Fal.     I   would    't  were   bed-time,  Hal,  and   all 
well. 

Prince.     Why,  thou  owest  God  a  death.     [Exit. 

Fal.  'T  is  not  due  yet;  I  would  be  loath  to 
pay  him  before  his  day.  What  need  I  be  so 
forward  with  him  that  calls  not  on  me  ?  WTell,  13C 
't  is  no  matter ;  honour  pricks  me  on.  Yea,  but 
how  if  honour  prick  me  off  when  I  come  on? 
how  then  ?  Can  honour  set  to  a  leg  ?  no :  or  an 
arm  ?  no :  or  take  away  the  grief  of  a  wound  ? 
no.  Honour  hath  no  skill  in  surgery,  then?  no. 
What  is  honour?  a  word.  What  is  in  that  word 
honour?  what  is  that  honour?  air.  A  trim  reck- 
oning !  Who  hath  it  ?  he  that  died  o'  Wednes- 
day. Doth  he  feel  it  ?  no.  Doth  he  hear  it  ?  no. 
'T  is  insensible,  then  ?  Yea,  to  the  dead.  But  14C 
will  it  not  live  with  the  living?  no.  Why?  de- 
traction will  not  suffer  it.  Therefore  I  '11  none  of 
it.  Honour  is  a  mere  scutcheon :  and  so  ends 
my  catechism.  [Exit. 


98  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  FIVE 

SCEVE  II  —  The  rebel  ramp 
Enter  WORCESTER  and  VERXOX 

Wor.     O,  no,  my  nephew  must  not  know,  Sir 

Richard, 
The  liberal  and  kind  offer  of  the  king. 

Ver.     'T  were  best  he  did. 

Wor.  Then  are  we  all  undone. 

It  is  not  possible,  it  cannot  be, 
The  king  should  keep  his  word  in  loving  us ; 
He  will  suspect  us  still  and  find  a  time 
To  punish  this  offence  in  other  faults  : 
Suspicion  all  our  lives  shall  be  stuck  full  of  eyes; 
For  treason  is  but  trusted  like  the  fox, 
10  Who,  ne'er  so  tame,  so  cherish'd  and  lock'd  up, 
Will  have  a  wild  trick  of  his  ancestors, 
Look  how  we  can,  or  sad  or  merrily, 
Interpretation  will  misquote  our  looks, 
And  we  shall  feed  like  oxen  at  a  stall, 
The  better  cherish'd,  still  the  nearer  death. 
My  nephew's  trespass  may  be  well  forgot ; 
It  hath  the  excuse  of  youth  and  heat  of  blood, 
And  an  adopted  name  of  privilege, 
A  hare-brain 'd  Hotspur,  govern'd  by  a  spleen : 
20  All  his  offences  live  upon  my  head 
And  on  his  father's;  we  did  train  him  on, 
And,  his  corruption  being  ta'en  from  us, 
We,  as  the  spring  of  all,  shall  pay  for  all. 
Therefore,  good  cousin,  let  not  Harry  know, 
In  any  case,  the  offer  of  the  king. 

Ver.     Deliver  what  you  will ;   I  '11  say  't  is  so. 
Here  comes  your  cousin. 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        99     , 

Enter  HOTSPUR  and  DOUGLAS 

Hot.     My  uncle  is  return'd  : 
Deliver  up  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 
Uncle,  what  news  ?  30 

Wor.     The  king  will  bid  you  battle  presently. 

Doug.     Defy  him  by  the  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

Hot.     Lord  Douglas,  go  you  and  tell  him  so. 

Doug.     Marry,  and  shall,  and  very  willingly. 

[Exit. 

Wor.     There  is  no  seeming  mercy  in  the  king. 

Hot.     Did  you  beg  any  ?     God  forbid  ! 

Wor.     I  told  him  gently  of  our  grievances, 
Of  his  oath-breaking ;  which  he  mended  thus, 
By  now  forswearing  that  he  is  forsworn : 
He  calls  us  rebels,  traitors ;  and  will  scourge  40 

With  haughty  arms  this  hateful  name  in  us. 

Re-enter  DOUGLAS 

Doug.    Arm,  gentlemen ;    to  arms !  for  I  have 

thrown 

A  brave  defiance  in  King  Henry's  teeth, 
And  Westmoreland,  that  was  engaged,  did  bear  it ; 
Which  cannot  choose  but  bring  him  quickly  on. 

Wor.     The  Prince  of  Wales  stepp'd  forth  before 

the  king, 
And,  nephew,  challenged  you  to  single  fight. 

Hot.     O,  would  the  quarrel  lay  upon  our  heads, 
And  that  no  man  might  draw  short  breath  to-day 
But  I  and  Harry  Monmouth  !     Tell  me,  tell  me,      so 
How  show'd  his  tasking  ?  seem'd  it  in  contempt  ? 

Ver.     No,  by  my  soul ;  I  never  in  my  life 
Did  hear  a  challenge  urged  more  modestly, 


•    100         KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FIVE 

Unless  a  brother  should  a  brother  dare 

To  gentle  exercise  and  proof  of  arms. 

He  gave  you  all  the  duties  of  a  man  : 

Trimm'd  up  your  praises  with  a  princely  tongue, 

Spoke  your  deservings  like  a  chronicle, 

Making  you  ever  better  than  his  praise 

6<>  By  still  dispraising  praise  valued  with  you ; 
And,  which  l>ecame  him  like  a  prince  indeed, 
He  made  a  blushing  cital  of  himself; 
And  chid  his  truant  youth  with  such  a  grace 
As  if  he  master'd  there  a  double  spirit 
Of  teaching  and  of  learning  instantly. 
There  did  he  pause  :  but  let  me  tell  the  world, 
If  he  outlive  the  envy  of  this  day, 
England  did  never  owe  so  sweet  a  hope, 
So  much  misconstrued  in  his  wantonness. 

7o     Hot.     Cousin,  I  think  thou  art  enamoured 
On  his  follies :  never  did  I  hear 
Of  any  prince  so  wild  a  libertine. 
But  be  he  as  he  will,  yet  once  ere  night 
I  will  embrace  him  with  a  soldier's  arm, 
That  he  shall  shrink  under  my  courtesy. 
Arm,    arm    with    speed :     and,    fellows,    soldiers, 

friends, 

Better  consider  what  you  have  to  do 
Than  I,  that  have  not  well  the  gift  of  tongue, 
Can  lift  your  blood  up  with  persuasion. 


so     Mess.     My  lord,  here  are  letters  for  you. 

Hot.     I  cannot  read  them  now. 
O  gentlemen,  the  time  of  life  is  short ! 


SCENE  THREE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     101 

To  spend  that  shortness  basely  were  too  long, 

If  life  did  ride  upon  a  dial's  point, 

Still  ending  at  the  arrival  of  an  hour. 

An  if  we  live,  we  live  to  tread  on  kings ; 

If  die,  brave  death,  when  princes  die  with  us  ! 

Now,  for  our  consciences,  the  arms  are  fair, 

When  the  intent  of  bearing  them  is  just. 

Enter  another  Messenger 

Mess.     My  lord,  prepare;    the  king  comes  on 

apace.  90 

Hot.     I  thank  him,  that  he  cuts  me  from  my  tale, 
For  I  profess  not  talking ;  only  this  — 
Let  each  man  do  his  best :  and  here  draw  I 
A  sword,  whose  temper  I  intend  to  stain 
With  the  best  blood  that  I  can  meet  withal 
In  the  adventure  of  this  perilous  day. 
Now,  Esperance  !    Percy  !  and  set  on. 
Sound  all  the  lofty  instruments  of  war, 
And  by  that  music  let  us  all  embrace ; 
For,  heaven  to  earth,  some  of  us  never  shall  100 

A  second  time  do  such  a  courtesy. 

[The  trumpets  sound.     They  embrace  and  exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Plain  between  the  camps 

The  KING  enters  with  his  power.     Alarum  to  the  battle. 
Then  enter  DOUGLAS  and  SIB  WALTER  BLUNT 

Blunt.     What  is  thy  name,  that  in  the  battle  thus 
Thou  Grossest  me  ?  what  honour  dost  thou  seek 
Upon  my  head  ? 

Doug.  Know  then,  my  name  is  Douglas ; 


10*         KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Art  FIVE 

Ami  I  do  haunt  thec  in  the  battle  thus 
Hecau.sc  some  tell  me  that  thou  art  a  king. 
Blunt.     They  tell  thee  true. 
Doug.     The  Lord  of  Stafford  dear  to-day  hath 

bought 

Thy  likeness,  for  instead  of  thee,  King  Harry, 
This  sword  hath  ended  him :   so  shall  it  thee, 
10  Unless  thou  yield  thee  as  my  prisoner. 

Blunt.     I   was  not  born  a  yielder,   thou  proud 

Scot ; 

And  thou  shalt  find  a  king  that  will  revenge 
Lord     Stafford's     death.      [They   fight.      Douglas 

kills  Blind. 

Enter  HOTSPUR 

Hot.     O  Douglas,  hadst  thou  fought  at  Holmedon 

thus, 
I  never  had  triumph 'd  upon  a  Scot. 

Doug.     All 's  done,  all 's  won ;  here  breathless  lies 

the  king. 
Hot.     Where? 
Doug.     Here. 
Hot.     This,  Douglas  ?  no :   I  know  this  face  full 

well : 

20  A  gallant  knight  he  was,  his  name  was  Blunt ; 
Semblably  furnish'd  like  the  king  himself. 

Doug.     A  fool  go  with  thy  soul,  whither  it  goes ! 
A  borrow'd  title  hast  thou  bought  too  dear : 

didst  thou  tell  me  that  thou  wert  a  king? 
Hot.     The  king  hath  many  marching  in  his  coats. 
Doug.     Now,  by  my  sword,  I  will  kill  all  his 
coats; 


SCENE  THREE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     103 

I  '11  murder  all  his  wardrobe,  piece  by  piece, 
Until  I  meet  the  king. 

Hot.  Up,  and  away  ! 

OUT  soldiers  stand  full  fairly  for  the  day.     [Exeunt. 

Alarum.     Enter  FALSTAFF,  solus 

Fal.  Though  I  could  'scape  shot-free  at  Lon-sc 
don,  I  fear  the  shot  here ;  here  's  no  scoring  but 
upon  the  pate.  Soft!  who  are  you?  Sir  Walter 
Blunt :  there  's  honour  for  you  !  here  's  no  vanity ! 
I  am  as  hot  as  molten  lead,  and  as  heavy  too: 
God  keep  lead  out  of  me !  I  need  no  more  weight 
than  mine  own  bowels.  I  have  led  my  raga- 
muffins where  they  are  peppered :  there  's  not 
three  of  my  hundred  and  fifty  left  alive;  and 
they  are  for  the  town's  end,  to  beg  during  life. 
But  who  comes  here?  *o 

Enter  the  PRINCE 

Prince.     What,  stand'st  thou  idle  here  ?  lend  me 

thy  sword : 

Many  a  nobleman  lies  stark  and  stiff 
Under  the  hoofs  of  vaunting  enemies, 
Whose  deaths  are  yet  unrevenged :   I  prithee,  lend 
me  thy  sword. 

Fal.  O  Hal,  I  prithee,  give  me  leave  to 
breathe  awhile.  Turk  Gregory  never  did  such 
deeds  in  arms  as  I  have  done  this  day.  I  have 
paid  Percy,  I  have  made  him  sure. 

Prince.  He  is,  indeed;  and  living  to  kill  thee. 
I  prithee,  lend  me  thy  sword.  so 

Fal.     Nay,    before    God,    Hal,    if    Percy    be 


104          KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FIVE 

alive,  thou  get'st  not  my  sword;  but  take  my 
pistol,  if  thou  wilt. 

Prince.     Give  it  me:   what,  is  it  in  the  case? 

Fal.  Ay,  Hal ;  't  is  hot,  't  is  hot ;  there  's  that 
will  sack  a  city.  [The  Prince  drawn  it  out,  and  finds 

it  to  be  a  bottle  of  sack. 

Prince.  What,  is  it  a  time  to  jest  and  dally 
now?  [He  throws  the  bottle  at  him.  Exit. 

Fal.  Well,  if  Percy  be  alive,  I  '11  pierce  him. 
oo  If  he  do  come  in  my  way,  so :  if  he  do  not,  if  I 
come  in  his  willingly,  let  him  make  a  carbonado 
of  me.  I  like  not  such  grinning  honour  as  Sir 
Walter  hath :  give  me  life :  which  if  I  can  save, 
so ;  if  not,  honour  comes  unlocked  for,  and  there  's 
an  end.  [Exit. 

SCENE  IV  —  Another  part  of  the  field 

Alarum.     Excursions.     Enter  the  KING,  the  PRINCE,  LORD 
JOHN  OF  LANCASTER,  and  EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND 

King.     I  prithee, 

Harry,  withdraw  thyself ;  thou  bleed'st  too  much. 
Lord  John  of  Lancaster,  go  you  with  him. 

Lan.     Not  I,  my  lord,  unless  I  did  bleed  too. 

Prince.     I  beseech  your  majesty,  make  up, 
Lest  your  retirement  do  amaze  your  friends. 

King.     I  will  do  so. 
My  Lord  of  Westmoreland,  lead  him  to  his  tent. 

West.     Come,  my  lord,  I  '11  lead  you  to  your  tent, 
to     Prince.     Lead   me,   my   lord?     I   do   not   need 

your  help : 
And  God  forbid  a  shallow  scratch  should  drive 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     105 

The  Prince  of  Wales  from  such  a  field  as  this, 
Where  stain'd  nobility  lies  trodden  on, 
And  rebels'  arms  triumph  in  massacres  ! 

Lan.     We    breathe    too    long :     come,    cousin 

Westmoreland , 
Our  duty  this  way  lies ;  for  God's  sake,  come. 

[Exeunt  Prince  John  and  Westmoreland. 

Prince.     By  God,  thou  hast  deceived  me,  Lan- 
caster ; 

I  did  not  think  thee  lord  of  such  a  spirit : 
Before,  I  loved  thee  as  a  brother,  John ; 
But  now,  I  do  respect  thee  as  my  soul.  20 

King.     I  saw  him  hold  Lord  Percy  at  the  point 
With  lustier  maintenance  than  I  did  look  for 
Of  such  an  ungrown  warrior. 

Prince.  O,  this  boy 

Lends  mettle  to  us  all !  [Exit. 

Enter  DOUGLAS 

Doug.     Another  king !  they  grow  like  Hydra's 

heads: 

I  am  the  Douglas,  fatal  to  all  those 
That  wear  those  colours  on  them  :  what  art  thou, 
That  counterf eit'st  the  person  of  a  king  ? 

King.     The  king  himself ;  who,  Douglas,  grieves 

at  heart 

So  many  of  his  shadows  thou  hast  met  so 

And  not  the  very  king.     I  have  two  boys 
Seek  Percy  and  thyself  about  the  field : 
But,  seeing  thou  fall'st  on  me  so  luckily, 
I  will  assay  thee  :  so,  defend  thyself. 

Doug.     I  fear  thou  art  another  counterfeit ; 


106          KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Ac-r  FIVE 

And  yet,  in  faith,  thou  bear'st  thec  like  a  king: 
But  mine  I  am  sure  thou  art,  whoe'er  thou  l>e, 
And  thus  I  win  thee.     [They  fight ;   the  King  being 
in  danger,  re-enter  Prince  of  Wales. 
Prince.     Hold  up  thy  head,  vile  Scot,  or  thou  art 

like 

40  Never  to  hold  it  up  again !  the  spirits 
Of  valiant'  Shirley,  Stafford,   Blunt,  are    in    my 

arms: 

It  is  the  Prince  of  Wales  that  threatens  thee; 
Who  never  promiseth  hut  he  means  to  pay. 

[  They  fight :  Do uglas  flies. 
Cheerly,  my  lord  :   how  fares  your  grace  ? 
Sir  Nicholas  Gawsey  hath  for  succour  sent, 
And  so  hath  Clifton  :   I  '11  to  Clifton  straight. 

King.     Stay,  and  breathe  awhile  : 
Thou  hast  redeem'd  thy  lost  opinion, 
And  show'd  thou  makest  some  tender  of  my  life, 
so  In  this  fair  rescue  thou  hast  brought  to  me. 

Prince.     O  God !  they  did  me  too  much  injury 
That  ever  said  I  hearken 'd  for  your  death. 
If  it  were  so,  I  might  have  let  alone 
The  insulting  hand  of  Douglas  over  you, 
Which  would  have  been  as  speedy  in  your  end 
As  all  the  poisonous  potions  in  the  world 
And  saved  the  treacherous  labour  of  your  son. 
King.     Make  up  to  Clifton  :  I  '11  to  Sir  Nicholas 
Gawsey.  [Exit. 

Enter  HOTSPUR 

Hot.     If  I  mistake  not,  thou  art  Harry  Mon- 
mouth. 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     107 

Prince.     Thou  speak'st  as  if  I  would  deny  my 
name.  eo 

Hot.     My  name  is  Harry  Percy. 

Prince.  Why,  then  I  see 

A  very  valiant  rebel  of  the  name. 
I  am  the  Prince  of  Wales ;  and  think  not,  Percy, 
To  share  with  me  in  glory  any  more : 
Two  stars  keep  not  their  motion  in  one  sphere ; 
Nor  can  one  England  brook  a  double  reign, 
Of  Harry  Percy  and  the  Prince  of  Wales. 

Hot.     Nor  shall  it,  Harry ;  for  the  hour  is  come 
To  end  the  one  of  us ;  and  would  to  God 
Thy  name  in  arms  were  now  as  great  as  mine !         70 

Prince.     I  '11  make  it  greater  ere  I  part  from  thee ; 
And  all  the  budding  honours  on  thy  crest 
I  '11  crop,  to  make  a  garland  for  my  head. 

Hot.     I  can  no  longer  brook  thy  vanities. 

[They  fight. 
Enter  FALSTAFF 

Fal.    Well  said,  Hal!  to  it,  Hal!    Nay,  you 
shall  find  no  boy's  play  here,  I  can  tell  you. 

Re-enter  DOUGLAS  ;    he  fights  with  FALSTAFF,  who  jails 
down  as  if  he  were  dead,  and  exit  DOUGLAS     HOTSPUR 

is  wounded,  and  falls 

•  •  >  I 

Hot.     O,  Harry,   thou  hast  robb'd  me  of  my 

youth ! 

I  better  brook  the  loss  of  brittle  life 
Than  those  proud  titles  thou  hast  won  of  me ; 
They  wound  my  thoughts  worse  than  thy  sword  my 
flesh :  so 


108          KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Ac-r  FIVE 

Hut  thought 's  the  slave  of  life,  and  life  time's  fool ; 
And  time,  that  takes  survey  of  all  the  world, 
Must  have  a  stop.     (),  I  could  prophesy, 
But  that  the  earthy  and  cold  hand  of  death 
Lies  on  my  tongue :  no,  Percy,  thou  art  dust, 
And  food  for  —  [Dies. 

Prince.     For  worms,  brave  Percy  :  fare  thee  well, 

great  heart ! 

Hl-weaved  ambition,  how  much  art  thou  shrunk ! 
When  that  this  body  did  contain  a  spirit, 

90  A  kingdom  for  it  was  too  small  a  bound ; 
But  now  two  paces  of  the  vilest  earth 
Is  room  enough :  this  earth  that  bears  thee  dead 
Bears  not  alive  so  stout  a  gentleman. 
If  thou  wert  sensible  of  courtesy, 
I  should  not  make  so  dear  a  show  of  zeal : 
But  let  my  favours  hide  thy  mangled  face ; 
And,  even  in  thy  behalf,  I  '11  thank  myself 
For  doing  these  fair  rites  of  tenderness. 
Adieu,  and  take  thy  praise  with  thee  to  heaven ! 

100  Thy  ignominy  sleep  with  thee  in  the  grave, 
But  not  remember'd  in  thy  epitaph  ! 

[He  spieth  Falstajf  on  the  ground, 
^Tiat,  old  acquaintance !  could  not  all  this  flesh 
Keep  in  a  little  life  ?     Poor  Jack,  farewell ! 
I  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man : 
O,  I  should  have  a  heavy  miss  of  thee, 
If  I  were  much  in  love  with  vanity ! 
Death  hath  not  struck  so  fat  a  deer  to-day, 
Though  many  dearer,  in  this  bloody  fray. 
Embowell'd  will  I  see  thee  by  and  by : 

no  Till  then  in  blood  by  noble  Percy  lie.  [Exit. 


SCENE  FOUR]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     109 

Fal.  [Rising  up]  Embo welled !  if  thou  em- 
bowel me  to-day,  I  '11  give  you  leave  to  powder 
me  and  eat  me  to-morrow.  'Sblood,  't  was 
time  to  counterfeit,  or  that  hot  termagant  Scot 
had  paid  me  scot  and  lot  too.  Counterfeit  ?  I  lie, 
I  am  no  counterfeit :  to  die,  is  to  be  a  counter- 
feit; for  he  is  but  the  counterfeit  of  a  man  who 
hath  not  the  life  of  a  man :  but  to  counterfeit 
dying,  when  a  man  thereby  liveth,  is  to  be  no 
counterfeit,  but  the  true  and  perfect  image  of  120 
life  indeed.  The  better  part  of  valour  is  discre- 
tion; in  the  which  better  part  I  have  saved  my 
life.  'Zounds,  I  am  afraid  of  this  gunpowder 
Percy,  though  he  be  dead:  how,  if  he  should 
counterfeit  too  and  rise?  by  my  faith,  I  am 
afraid  he  would  prove  the  better  counterfeit. 
Therefore  I  '11  make  him  sure ;  yea,  and  I  '11  swear 
I  killed  him.  Why  may  not  he  rise  as  well  as  I  ? 
Nothing  confutes  me  but  eyes,  and  nobody  sees 
me.  Therefore,  sirrah  [stabbing  him],  with  a  iso 
new  wound  in  your  thigh,  come  you  along  with 
me.  [Takes  up  Hotspur  on  his  back. 

Re-enter  the  PRINCE  OF  WALES  and  LORD 
JOHN  OF  LANCASTER 

Prince.     Come,  brother  John ;  full  bravely  hast 

thou  flesh'd 
Thy  maiden  sword. 

Lan.  But,  soft !  whom  have  we  here  ? 

Did  you  not  tell  me  this  fat  man  was  dead  ? 

Prince.    I  did ;  I  saw  him  dead, 


110          KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FIVB 

Breathless  ami  bleeding  on  the  ground.     Art  thou 

alive? 

Or  is  it  fantasy  that  plays  ujx)!!  our  eyesight  ? 
I  prithee,  speak ;   we  will  not  trust  our  eyes 
i4o  Without  our  ears  :  thou  art  not  what  thou  seem'st. 
Fal.     No,  that  's  certain ;    I   am  not  a  double 
man  :    but  if  I  l)e  not  Jack  FalstafT,  then  am  I  a 
Jack.     There  is  Percy   [throwing  the  body  d>nim] : 
if  your  father  will  do  me  any  honour,  so;    if  not, 
let  him  kill  the  next  Percy  himself.     I  look  to  be 
either  earl  or  duke,  I  can  assure  you. 

Prince.     Why,  Percy  I  killed  myself  and   saw 

thee  dead. 

Fal.  Didst  thou?  Lord,  Lord,  how  this  world 
is  given  to  lying !  I  grant  you  I  was  down  and 
)50  out  of  breath ;  and  so  was  he :  but  we  rose  both 
at  an  instant  and  fought  a  long  hour  by  Shrews- 
bury clock.  If  I  may  be  believed,  so;  if  not,  let 
them  that  should  reward  valour  bear  the  sin  upon 
their  own  heads.  I  '11  take  it  upon  my  death,  I 
gave  him  this  wound  in  the  thigh :  if  the  man 
were  alive  and  would  deny  it,  'zounds,  I  would 
make  him  eat  a  piece  of  my  sword. 

Lan.     This   is   the   strangest   tale   that  ever  I 

heard. 
Prince.     This   is   the   strangest   fellow,   brother 

John. 

'oo  Come,  bring  your  luggage  nobly  on  your  back  : 
For  my  part,  if  a  lie  may  do  thee  grace, 
I  '11  gild  it  with  the  happiest  terms  I  have. 

[A  retreat  is  sounded. 
The  trumpet  sounds  retreat ;   the  day  is  ours. 


SCENE  FIVE]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      111 

Come,  brother,  let  us  to  the  highest  of  the  field, 
To  see  what  friends  are  living,  who  are  dead. 

[Exeunt  Prince  of  Wales  and  Lancaster. 

Fal.     I  '11  follow,  as  they  say,  for  reward.     He 

that  rewards  me,  God  reward  him !     If  I  do  grow 

great,  I  '11  grow  less;    for  I  '11  purge,  and  leave 

sack,  and  live  cleanly  as  a  nobleman  should  do. 

[Exit. 

SCENE  V  —  Another  part  of  the  field 

The  trumpets  sound.  Enter  the  KING,  PRINCE  OF  WALES, 
LORD  JOHN  OF  LANCASTER,  EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND, 
with  WORCESTER  and  VERNON  prisoners 

King.     Thus  ever  did  rebellion  find  rebuke. 
Ill-spirited  Worcester !  did  not  we  send  grace, 
Pardon  and  terms  of  love  to  all  of  you  ? 
And  wouldst  thou  turn  our  offers  contrary? 
Misuse  the  tenour  of  thy  kinsman's  trust  ? 
Three  knights  upon  our  party  slain  to-day, 
A  noble  earl  and  many  a  creature  else 
Had  been  alive  this  hour, 
If  like  a  Christian  thou  hadst  truly  borne 
Betwixt  our  armies  true  intelligence.  10 

Wor.     What  I  have  done  my  safety  urged  me  to ; 
7  And  I  embrace  this  fortune  patiently, 
Since  not  to  be  avoided  it  falls  on  me. 

King.     Bear  Worcester  to  the  death  and  Vernon 

too : 
Other  offenders  we  will  pause  upon. 

[Exeunt  Worcester  and  Vernon  guarded. 
How  goes  the  field  ? 


112         KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Acr  FIVE 

Prince.     The  noble  Scot,  Lord  Douglas,  when  he 

saw 

The  fortune  of  the  day  quite  turn'd  from  him, 
The  noble  Percy  slain,  and  all  his  men 
20  Upon  the  foot  of  fear,  fled  with  the  rest ; 
And  falling  from  a  hill,  he  was  so  bruised 
That  the  pursuers  took  him.     At  my  tent 
The  Douglas  is ;   and  I  beseech  your  grace 
I  may  dispose  of  him. 

King.  With  all  my  heart. 

Prince.     Then,  brother  John  of  Lancaster,  to  you 
This  honourable  bounty  shall  belong : 
Go  to  the  Douglas,  and  deliver  him 
Up  to  his  pleasure,  ransomless  and  free : 
His  valour  shown  upon  our  crests  to-day 
so  Hath  taught  us  how  to  cherish  such  high  deeds 
Even  in  the  bosom  of  our  adversaries. 

Lan.     I  thank  your  grace  for  this  high  courtesy, 
Which  I  shall  give  away  immediately. 

King.     Then  this  remains,  that  we  divide  our 

power. 

You,  son  John,  and  my  cousin  Westmoreland 
Towards  York  shall  bend  you  with  your  dearest 

speed, 

To  meet  Northumberland  and  the  prelate  Scroop, 
Who,  as  we  hear,  are  busily  in  arms : 
Myself  and  you,  son  Harry,  will  towards  Wales, 
40 To  fight  with  Glendower  and  the  Earl  of  March. 
Rebellion  in  this  land  shall  lose  his  sway, 
Meeting  the  check  of  such  another  day : 
And  since  this  business  so  fair  is  done, 
Let  us  not  leave  till  all  our  own  be  won.     [Exeunt. 


NOTES 

ABBREVIATIONS 

Fl First  Folio  (1623]r  of  Shakespeare's  plays 

F  2 Second  Folio  (1632). 

F  3 Third  Folio  (1663  and  1664). 

F  4 Fourth  Folio  (1685). 

Ff The  four  Folios. 

l^jiV.  E.  D A  New  English  Dictionary  (ed.  Murray) 

Q  1 First  Quarto  (1598)  of  1  Henry  IV. 

Q2  .    ,..„„:..    .     .     .  Second  Quarto  (1599). 

Q  3 Third  Quarto  (1604). 

Q4  .    .r-.    ..     .     .     .  Fourth  Quarto  (1608). 

Q  5 Fifth  Quarto  (1613) 

Qq  .     .     .     ,r'^t  ,.  .  The  Quartos. 

For  the  meaning  of  words  not  given  in  these  notes,  the  student  is 
referred  to  the  Glossary  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

The  numbering  of  the  lines  corresponds  to  that  of  the  Globe 
Edition ;  this  applies  also  to  the  scenes  in  prose. 

DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

The  following  brief  sketches  of  the  historical  characters  of  the 
play  are  intended  to  indicate  how  far  Shakespeare  abides  by,  and 
how  far  he  departs  from,  historical  truth  as  viewed  in  the  light  of 
modern  historical  criticism.  The  chief  authorities  consulted  are 
J.  H.  Wylie's  History  of  England  under  Henry  IV  and  the  Diction- 
ary of  National  Biography. 

King  Henry  TV  (1367-1413).  Reference  has  been  made  in  the 
Introduction  (p.  xx)  to  the  changes  made  by  Shakespeare  in  King 
Henry's  age  at  the  time  of  the  Percy  rising ;  the  King's  earlier 
career  may  be  traced  in  Richard  II.  After  his  accession  to  the 
throne  in  October,  1399,  and  the  death  of  Richard  in  January,  1400, 
^Henry  was  chiefly  occupied  in  restoring  order  to  the  kingdom. 
The  Welsh  expedition  against  Owen  Glendower,  undertaken  in  the 
autumn  of  1400,  ended  disastrously,  and  subsequent  expeditions 
were  scarcely  more  satisfactory.  The  contrast  between  his  own 

113 


114  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH 

failure-  to  sulxlue  Glendower  and  the  success  of  the  Percies  against 
the  S<-nts  at  Humbledon  (Holmcdnn)  Hill  in  SeptemlxT,  1402,  was 
very  .striking.  In  the  three  years  which  elapsed  Ix-twecn  the  death 
uf  Richanl  II  and  the  opening  scene  of  our  play  the  king  had  grown 
very  unpopular.  He  hud  little  money  at  his  disposal,  and  the 
attempts  of  his  officers  to  obtain  supplies  without  paying  for  them 
had  aroused  the  ill  will  of  the  people.  Riots  broke  out  in  14(>i,  and 
rumors  were  circulated  Jhat  Richard  was  still  alive.  On  February  7, 
1403,  the  king  married  a  second  wife,  Joan,  the  daughter  of  Charles 
the  Bad  of  Navarre,  and  widow  of  John,  fourth  Duke  of  Brittany. 
Shakespeare,  perhaps  in  order  to  accentuate  Henry's  position  of 
loneliness,  does  not  introduce  Jiwm  into  his  play,  but  it  is  prol»ably 
to  her  that  the  prince  refers  when  he  says  in  ii.  4:  "  (Jive  him  as 
much  as  will  make  him  a  royal  man,  and  send  him  back  again  to 
my  mother."  The  outbreak  of  the  Percy  rebellion  followed  within 
a  month  of  his  marriage.  Shakespeare  keeps  fairly  close  to  histor- 
ical truth  in  stating  the  causes  of  that  rebellion,  though  he  makes 
little  of  Holinshed's  references  to  "  taxes  and  tallages,"  the  imposi- 
tion of  which  by  the  king  had  incensed  l>oth  the  Perries  and  the 
people.  Shakespeare,  as  stated  elsewhere,  has  somewhat  depreciated 
the  king's  personal  prowess  in  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  but  his 
account  of  Henry's  preparations  for  the  battle  and  of  the  attempt* 
made  by  him  to  settle  the  dispute  without  bloodshed  is  substantially 
correct. 

Henry,  Prince  of  Wales  (1387-1422),  was  only  sixteen  at 
the  time  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury.  He  had  remained  in  Kng- 
land  during  his  father's  banishment.  King  Richard  taking  hint 
under  his  charge.  On  his  father's  coronation  he  was  knighted 
and  created  Prince  of  Wales  and  Earl  of  Chester.  He  was  with  his 
father  in  his  unsuccessful  attempt  to  overthrow  Glendower  in  the 
autumn  of  1400,  and  remained  behind  at  Chester.  In  April,  140lJ 
we  find  him  advancing  into  Wales  in  the  company  of  Hotspur,  uid 
securing  the  submission  of  Merioneth  and  Carnarvon.  A  lit 
later,  Thomas  Percy,  Earl  of  Worcester,  was  appointed  his  tutor 
a  fact  which  Shakespeare  does  not  mention.  At  the  time  wh 
Shakespeare  represents  him  as  frequenting  the  Eastcheap  tavei 
he  seems  to  have  been  campaigning  in  Wales,  ha ving  been  appoin 
as  commander  of  the  king's  forces  against  the  Welsh  insur, 
on  March  7,  1403.  Shrewsbury  was  his  headquarters,  and 
his  father  joined  him  on  the  eve  of  the  battle.  He  fought  bra 
on  that  occasion,  but  there  is  no  evidence  that  Hotspur  fell 
his  hand. 


NOTES  115 

With  regard  to  the  excesses  of  the  prince's  youth,  upon  which  the 
later  chroniclers  insist,  and  which  became  indeed  an  accepted 
tradition,  little  definite  information  is  obtainable.  That  these 
excesses  and  his  subsequent  conversion  were  exaggerated  is  certain, 
but  there  is  sufficient  evidence  to  show  that  the  tradition  was  not 
entirely  unsupported  by  fact.  Elmham,  the  contemporary  biog- 
rapher and  panegyrist  of  Henry  V,  confesses  in  his  Vita  et  Gesta 
Ht-nrici  Quinti  that  "  when  not  engaged  with  Mars  he  found  time 
for  the  service  of  Venus  "  ;  and  frequent  references  are  made  by  other 
contemporaries  to  the  change  that  came  over  him  at  his  accession. 
Mr.  J.  H.  Wylie,  in  his  History  of  England  under  Henry  IV  (vol.  iv, 
p.  91),  summarizes  the  matter  in  the  following  words :  "  For  though 
he  had  his  serious  and  superstitious  moods,  in  which  he  would  hear 
nothing  that  sounded  to  vice,  yet  there  is  evidence  enough  that  the 
traditional  stories  of  the  wildness  of  his  youth  are  not  without  some 
basis  of  fact,  and  that  there  were  times  when  he  was  a  truant  to 
chivalry,  losing  his  princely  privilege  in  barren  pleasures  and  rude 
society." 

John  of  Lancaster  (1389-1435)  was  the  third  son  of  Henry  IV. 
He  was  knighted  at  his  father's  coronation  in  1399  and  made 
Constable  of  England  in  1403.  We  have  no  knowledge  that  he  was 
present  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  nor  does  Holinshed  mention 
him  in  this  connection.  At  the  outbreak  of  hostilities  in  1405  he 
joined  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  in  the  campaign  which  ended  in 
the  capture  of  Archbishop  Scroop  on  Shipton  Moor.  (See  2  Henry 
IV.)  Soon  after  the  accession  of  Henry  V  he  was  created  Duke  of 
Bedford,  and  on  the  king's  departure  for  the  campaign  in  France 
he  was  appointed  lieutenant  of  the  kingdom.  On  the  death  of 
Henry  V  he  was  left  in  charge  of  the  realm,  and  bore  an  active  and 
resolute  part  in  the  civil  and  military  transactions  which  occupied 
the  period  of  Henry  VI's  minority.  (See  1  Henry  VI.}  It  was  a 
troublous  and  in  many  ways  a  disastrous  period,  but  Bedford's 
policy  was  singularly  s6und,  his  character  courageous  and  unselfish. 
He  died  at  Rouen  in  1435. 

Ralph  Neville,  first  Earl  of  Westmoreland  (1364-1425),  was  one 
of  the  most  important  of  the  north-country  barons.  Richard  II 
created  him  Earl  of  Westmoreland  in  1397,  but  he  joined  the  banner 
of  Bolingbroke  on  his  landing  at  Ravenspurgh  in  1399,  and  on  the 
accession  of  the  new  king  he  was  appointed  Marshal  of  England. 
Shakespeare's  account  of  the  part  he  played  in  the  Percy  rebellion 
is  fairly  accurate,  as  is  also  the  later  account  (2  Henry  IV)  of  his 
capture  of  Mowbray  and  Scroop  on  Shipton  Moor  in  1405.  On 


116  KINCi  1IBNKY  THE   FOt'KTII 

the  accession  of  Henry  V  he  joined  that  king  in  hi.s  French  cam- 
paigns, and  every  reader  of  the  play  of  Henry  V  will  remember  that 
it  was  in  reply  to  Westmoreland's  wish  Ix-fore  the  battle  of  Agin- 

rourl  ~  "  0  that  we  now  had  here 

Hut  one  ten  thousand  of  thoso  men  in  England 
That  do  no  work  ti>-day  !  " 

—  that  the  king  delivered  his  famous  Crispian  sjicech. 

Sir  Walter  Blunt,  or  Hloiint,  who  appears  in  our  play  as  the  loyal 
supporter  of  Henry  IV,  had  in  early  manhood  accompanied  the 
Hlack  Prince  and  John  of  (iaunt  on  the  Spanish  expedition  of  1367. 
He  married  a  Spanish  lady  after  the  campaign  closed,  and  was  in 
the  succeeding  years  somewhat  closely  bound  up  with  the  English 
relations  with  Spain.  In  1398  John  of  (iaunt  granted  to  Sir  Walter 
and  his  wife  an  annuity  of  100  marks  as  a  reward  for  their  labor-  in 
his  service.  Sir  Walter  represented  Derbyshire,  where  he  had  an 
estate,  in  the  first  parliament  of  Henry  IV,  and  held  the  post  of 
standard-bearer  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury.  Shakespeare's  account 
of  his  death  at  the  hands  of  Douglas,  who  mistook  him  for  the  king 
because  of  the  resemblance  of  his  armor  to  that  worn  by  Henry,  is  in 
accordance  with  the  accounts  given  by  contemporary  chroniclers. 

Thomas  Percy,  Earl  of  Worcester  (circ.  1344-1403),  was  the 
younger  brother  of  the  Karl  of  Northumberland.  He  took  i>art  in 
the  French  campaigns  of  Edward  III  and  in  John  of  (Jaunt's  Spanish 
expedition  of  138(i.  Before  this  he  had  been  made  a  knight  of  the 
garter,  and  after  his  return  to  England  in  1389  he  was  appointed  vice- 
chamberlain  It)  the  king.  He  accompanied  King  Richard  to  Ireland 
on  two  expeditions,  and  when  Holingbroke  landed  at  Ilavenspurgh, 
Worcester  returned  with  the  king  to  Wales.  Some  of  the  chroniclers 
state  that  he  deserted  Richard  on  his  landing  at  Milford,  but  this 
is  not  certain.  Whatever  was  his  attitude  toward  Bolingbroke, 
he  was  present  at  his  coronation,  and  took  office  as  admiral  of  the 
fleet  under  him.  In  1402  he  was  appointed  tutor  to  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  a  fact  mentioned  by  Holinshed,  but  ignored  by  Shakespeare. 
Shakespeare  is  probably  right  in  making  lu'm  a  prime  mover  in  the 
Percy  rebellion,  and  also  in  the  story  of  his  misrepresentation  to 
Hotspur  of  the  king's  offer  of  pardon.  Shakespeare  follows  Holins- 
hed in  representing  Worcester  as  factious  and  intriguing;  but 
Froissart,  who  met  him  in  1393,  speaks  of  him  as  "  gentle,  reasonable, 
and  gracious." 

Henry  Percy,  first  Earl  of  Northumberland  (1342-1408),  who 
appears  in  /  Henry  II'  as  a  hesitating  and  rather  cowardly  leader, 


NOTES  117 

holds  an  important  position  in  the  history  of  the  reigns  of  Richard  II 
and  Henry  IV.  He  succeeded  to  the  Percy  estates  on  his  father's 
death  in  1368,  and  in  the  following  years  served  in  the  French  cam- 
paigns. He  espoused  the  side  of  the  people  in  the  Good  Parliament 
of  1376,  but  was  won  over  to  the  Court  party  by  the  promise  of  the 
office  of  Marshal  of  England,  which  he  received  in  1377.  Thanks  to 
the  favor  of  John  of  Gaunt,  he  was  created  Earl  of  Northumberland 
by  Richard  II  in  1377 ;  during  the  next  year  he  was  chiefly  occupied 
in  contests  and  negotiations  with  the  Scots.  In  1398  he  quarreled 
with  Richard,  and  because  of  his  refusal  to  obey  the  king's  summons 
to  attend  him  in  Ireland,  sentence  of  banishment  was  passed  on  him 
and  his  son,  Henry  Hotspur.  Northumberland  at  once  joined  the 
standard  of  Bolingbroke,  and  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  securing 
him  the  crown.  Shakespeare's  account  of  Northumberland's  sub- 
sequent defection  from  the  side  of  Henry  is  correct  in  its  main  points. 
The  story  of  his  life  after  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury  is  told  by  Shake- 
speare in  2  Henry  IV.  Historians  are  agreed  in  characterizing 
Northumberland  as  selfish  and  crafty. 

Henry  Percy,  surnamed  Hotspur  (1364-1403),  was  the  eldest  son 
of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland.  Shakespeare  represents  him  as 
being  of  the  same  age  as  Prince  Henry,  but  in  reality  he  was  his 
senior  by  twenty-three  years.  He  was  knighted  by  Edward  III 
in  the  last  year  of  his  reign,  and  early  won  a  high  military  reputa- 
tion. As  governor  of  Berwick  he  found  himself,  in  1388,  in  open 
hostility  with  the  Scotch  under  Earl  Douglas,  and  in  the  following 
year  he  took  part  in  the  famous  battle  of  Otterburn,  which  Froissart 
describes  as  "  the  best  fought  and  severest  of  all  the  battles  I  have 
related  in  my  history,"  and  of  which  the  fame  still  lives  in  the  well- 
known  ballad.  In  the  dethronement  of  Richard,  Henry  Percy  acted 
in  company  with  his  father,  and  did  much  to  quell  the  frequent 
risings  in  Cheshire  and  North  Wales  during  the  first  year  of  Henry 
IV's  reign.  For  these  services  Percy  received  little  or  no  reward, 
and  there  arose  a  disaffection  toward  the  new  king  which  assumed 
a  more  acute  form  after  the  battle  of  Humbledon  Hill.  Shake- 
speare's account  of  the  origin  of  the  Percy  rebellion  is  substantially 
correct,  as  is  also  his  account  of  the  events  that  led  up  to  the  battle 
of  Shrewsbury  and  the  death  of  Hotspur.  The  latter  fell,  however, 
by  an  unknown  hand  and  not  by  that  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
Mr.  Tait's  characterization  of  Hotspur  (see  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography,  vol.  xliv)  is  singularly  in  keeping  with  Shakespeare's 
heroic  portraiture :  "  Hotspur  is  the  last  and  not  the  least  in  the 
long  roll  of  chivalrous  figures  whose  prowess  fills  the  pages  of  Frois- 


118  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [ACT  O 


sart.  He  hud  the  virtues  and  the  defects  of  his  clans  and  time. 
A  doughty  tighter  rather  than  a  skilful  soldier,  he  was  instinct  with 
stormy  energy,  passionate,  and  '  intolerant  of  the  shadow  of  a 
.slight.' 

Edmund  de  Mortimer  (1370-1409?)  was  the  youngest  son  of 
Edmund  de  Mortimer,  third  earl  of  March,  and  tradition  relates 
that  portents  attended  hi.s  birth.  He  joined  Bolingbroke  on  hi.- 
return  to  England  in  1301),  and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Glendower 
rebellion  in  1404  Mortimer  raised  the  men  of  Herefordshire  and 
marched  against  him.  A  battle  ensued  in  which  Glendower  was 
victorious,  and  Mortimer  became  his  prisoner.  He  was  carried 
off  to  the  mountains  by  his  captor,  and  the  Percies  immediately 
took  steps  to  procure  his  ransom.  King  Henry,  however,  believing 
a  current  rumor  that  Mortimer  had  sought  captivity,  forlwide  the 
Percies  to  take  steps  in  the  matter.  A  little  later,  Mortimer  gave 
color  to  this  rumor  by  making  peace  with  Glendower  and  marrying 
his  daughter.  Thenceforward  he  was  (ilendower's  ally,  and  in 
December,  1402,  he  issued  a  circular  to  the  people  of  Herefordshire 
declaring  that  he  had  joined  Glendower  in  his  desire  either  to  restore 
the  crown  to  Richard,  or,  in  case  of  Richard's  death,  to  bestow  it 
upon  hi.s  own  nephew,  Edmund  Mortimer,  son  of  Roger  Mortimer, 
fourth  earl  of  March,  whom  he  declared  to  be  the  true  heir  to 
Richard.  Shakespeare,  as  pointed  out  in  the  notes,  has  followed 
Holinshed  in  confusing  the  two  Edmund  Mortimers  and  in  making 
them  one  and  the  same  person.  Mortimer  was  in  sympathy  with  the 
Percies  in  their  rebellion,  but  was  not  present  at  the  battle  of  Shrews- 
bury. 

Archibald  Douglas,  fourth  earl  of  Douglas  (1369?-14*4),  was  the 
head  of  the  Douglas  family  during  the  reign  of  Henry  IV,  having 
succeeded  to  the  earldom  in  1400.  He  was  the  nephew  of  James, 
second  earl  of  Douglas,  who  fell  so  gloriously  in  the  great  battle  oi 
Otterburn.  His  defeat  at  the  hands  of  Hotspur  on  Humbledon 
Hill,  on  September  24,  140-2,  forms,  together  with  the  preceding 
defeat  of  Mortimer  by  Glendower,  the  starting  point  of  the  play. 
At  the  outbreak  of  the  Percy  rebellion,  Douglas  was  won  over  to  the 
side  of  the  rebels  on  the  promise  that  Berwick  and  a  part  of  Nor- 
thumberland should  be  given  to  him.  His  valor  at  the  battle  of 
Shrewsbury  is  attested  by  contemporary  historians.  Shakespeare, 
in  order  to  emphasize  the  generosity  of  his  hero,  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
represents  Douglas  as  receiving  his  freedom  at  the  Prince's  petition 
after  the  battle  :  in  reality  he  remained  the  king's  prisoner  till  1408- 

Sir  Richard  Vernon     Little  is  known  of  this  knight  except  that 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  119 

• 

he  fought  on  the  Percy  side  at  Shrewsbury,  aad  was  captured  and 
beheaded  by  Henry  IV.  He  was  probably  of  the  same  family  as  the 
Sir  Richard  Vernon  who  was  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons 
under  Henry  VI. 

Richard  Scroop,  or  Richard  le  Scrope  (1350P-1405),  holds  a  very 
insignificant  place  in  1  Henry  IV,  but  appears  much  more  promi- 
nently in  2  Henry  IV,  where  he  is  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  rebels. 
Falling  into  the  king's  hands  at  Shipton  Moor,  he  was  beheaded  at 
York.  He  was  made  Archbishop  of  York  by  Richard  II  in  1398. 
He  acquiesced  in  the  revolution  of  1399,  but  joined  the  Percies  when 
the  rebellion  was  raised. 

Owen  Glendower  (1359  P-1416  ?)  was  the  head  of  an  old  Welsh 
family  whose  seat  was  at  Glyndy  vrdwy  in  Merionethshire.  In  his 
youth  he  had  studied  English  law  at  Westminster,  and  had  served 
as  squire  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  and  as  such  had  sided  with  the 
Lancastrian  party.  It  was  his  old  family  quarrel  with  Lord  Grey 
of  Ruthin  that  led  him  to  take  up  arms  against  Henry  IV.  Between 
1400  and  1402  he  won  several  victories  over  the  English,  the  king 
himself  fitting  out  no  less  than  three  expeditions  to  overthrow  him, 
all  of  which  were  unsuccessful.  His  capture  of  Mortimer  on  June  22, 
1402,  materially  strengthened  his  prestige,  and  at  one  time  he  was 
master  of  a  large  portion  of  Wales.  He  at  once  sided  with  the 
Percies  at  the  outbreak  of  the  rebellion,  but  did  not  reach  Shrews- 
bury in  time  for  the  battle,  though  he  committed  great  ravages  in 
Shropshire  and  Herefordshire  after  the  king's  forces  had  withdrawn 
from  that  town.  He  remained  a  rebel  during  the  rest  of  the  king's 
reign,  though  his  power  waned  after  1406.  He  was  included  ir  the 
general  pardon  granted  by  Henry  V  on  his  accession  in  1413. 
Nothing  is  heard  of  him  after  February,  1416,  and  popular  report 
in  the  next  century  represented  him  as  dying  of  starvation  in  the 
mountains. 


ACT  I  — SCENE  1 

The  opening  scene  of  the  play  stands  in  the  closest  relation  with 
the  last  act  of  Richard  II,  and  thus  serves  to  bind  the  two  plays 
together  as  closely  as  the  First  Part  of  Henry  IV  is  bound  to  the 
Second  Part,  or  the  Second  Part  to  Henry  V .  In  reality  three  years 
had  elapsed  (1399-1402)  since  the  deposition  of  Richard  and  the 
battle  of  Holmedon,  but  the  impression  that  we  receive  from  the 
king's  opening  speech  is  of  an  almost  immediate  continuation  of  the 


120  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  ONB 

historical  narrative.  Rolingbrokc  ends  the  play  of  Richard  II  by 
announcing  his  intention  of  a  crusade  t«»  tlie  Holy  Lund,  and  he 
opens  the  new  play  with  a  declaration  of  the  same  purpose.  It 
must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  there  is  an  interval  of  several 
years  between  the  composition  of  the  two  plays.  There  gathers 
round  this  opening  speech,  the  florid  diction  of  which  savors  of  in- 
sincerity, an  element  of  deep  irony.  Civil  war,  the  king  assures  us, 
has  passed  away  forever,  but  before  the  scene  is  at  an  end  the  seeds 
of  discord  tliat  will  shortly  produce  another  civil  war  are  sown. 
The  projected  crusade  was  a  pious  —  and  also  a  politic  —  wish  to 
which  King  Henry  tenaciously  clung  during  the  rest  of  his  life, 
but  which  never  grew  nearer  realisation.  When  at  the  end  of  the 
speech  he  bids  Westmoreland  relate  what  took  place  in  Council,  we 
pass  forthwith  from  visionary  longings  to  the  grim  actuality  of  the 
butchery  in  Wales. 

In  making  the  king  himself  the  first  speaker  in  the  play,  Shake- 
speare follows  the  practice  established  by  him  in  his  earlier  Histories. 
In  King  John,  Richard  III,  and  Richard  II  the  opening  speech  is 
in  each  case  delivered  by  the  character  whose  name  gives  the  title 
to  the  play ;  in  Henri/  V  he  departs  from  this  practice,  and  does  not 
introduce  the  king  until  the  second  scene.  In  the  great  series  of 
tragedies  which  followed  the  history  plays,  the  protagonists  rarely 
appear  until  some  of  the  minor  characters  have  spoken  and  paved 
the  way  for  them.  This  opening  scene  is  introductory  throughout 
in  its  scope.  All  the  chief  historical  characters  not  actually  present 
are  mentioned  by  name,  and  from  what  is  said  concerning  them  we 
are  able  to  form  a  primitive  conception  of  their  character;  thus  we 
hear  mention  made  of  "  the  noble  Mortimer,"  "  the  irregular  and 
wild  Cilendower,"  "  gallant  Hotspur,"  "  brave  Archibald,"  and 
"  malevolent  Worcester."  Finally,  we  see  how  two  characters  — 
Hotspur  and  Prince  Henry  — are  singled  out  from  among  the  rest, 
made  e<|iial  in  years,  and  placed  over  against  each  other  in  bold 
antagonism.  The  one  is  "  Fortune's  minion  and  her  pride  " ;  the 
other,  to  all  appearances,  is  a  ne'er-do-weel  who  costs  his  father 
bitter  hours  of  repining.  The  difference  between  real  and  seeming 
worth  is  a  favorite  text  of  Shakespeare's. 

The  palace.     The  royal  palace  at  Westminster. 

1.  shaken.  "  What  pleasure  or  what  felicity  could  he  take  in 
his  princely  pomp,  which  he  knew  by  manifest  and  fearful  experience 
to  be  envied  and  maligned  to  the  very  death  ?  "  (Holinshed). 

2-3.  Find  we  a  time  .  .  .  new  broils.  "  Let  us  give  a  breathing 
space  to  harassed  Peace,  and  then,  while  recovering  her  breath. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  121 

she  will  tell  of  new  encounters."  The  figure  is  probably  that  of  a 
doe  pursued  by  the  hounds. 

4.  strands,  strands,  shores.  The  remote  strand  is,  of  course,  the 
shore  of  the  Holy  Land. 

6.  entrance.  The  figure  is  a  bold  one,  but  is  in  keeping  with  the 
high-flown  rhetorical  character  of  the  whole  of  the  king's  speech. 
The  following  verses  from  the  old  play  of  King  John  (1591)  intro- 
duce a  similar  figure : 


"  Is  all  the  blood  y-spilt  on  either  part, 
Closing  the  crannies  of  the  thirsty  earth, 
Grown  to  a  love-game  and  a  bridal-feast?  " 


7.   trenching,  cutting  up  the  ground  into  trenches. 

9.  those  opposed  eyes,  the  eyes  of  the  opposing  forces. 

10.  like  the  meteors  of  a  troubled  heaven.    The  meteors  re- 
semble the  warriors  in  a  civil  war,  since  they  are  of  one  and  the  same 
origin.     Cf.  v.  1.  15-21. 

11.  All  of  one  nature  .  .  .  bred.    The  reference  is  to  the  fact  that, 
in  the  war  which  led  to  the  dethronement  of  Richard  and  the 
accession  of  Henry  IV,  the  combatants  were  all  Englishmen. 

13.  close,  encounter. 

14.  mutual,  united,     well-beseeming,  becoming,  seemly. 

17.  edge,  sword. 

18.  his.     The  form  its,  which  never  occurs  in  the  Authorized 
Version  of  the  Bible,  is  rarely  used  by  Shakespeare. 

master,  owner. 

20.  Whose  soldier  now.     Supply  "  we  are." 

21.  impressed,  enlisted.     See  Glossary. 

22.  a  power,  a  force,  an  army,  as  frequently  in  this  play  and 
elsewhere. 

levy.  This  use  of  levy  in  the  sense  of  conduct,  or  rather  with  the 
double  meaning  of  raise  and  conduct,  occurs  also  in  Gosson's  School 
of  Abuse  (1587) :  "  Scipio  before  he  levied  his  force  to  the  walles  of 
Carthage,  gave  his  soldiers  the  fruit  of  the  city  in  a  cake  to  be 
devoured." 

28.  twelve  month.  Month  represents  an  old  genitive  plural  form 
after  the  numeral  twelve. 

30.  Therefore  .  .  .  now.    "  We  do  not  meet  for  this  purpose,  viz, 
that  I  may  tell  you  we  will  go." 

31.  cousin;    here  used  as  a  title  of  courtesy  given  by  kings  to 
great  nobles. 


122  KINT,   HENRY  THE   FOIRTH      [ACT  ONK 

33.  expedience.     The  word  is  used  by  Shakespeare,  as  we  now 
use  the  word  expedition,  in  the  twofold  sense  of  enterprise  and  haste. 
The  first  verse  of  Westmoreland's  speech  suggests  that  the  meaning 
here  is  haute,  or  perhaps  hasty  enterprise. 

34.  hot  in  question,  eagerly  debated. 

36.  limits  of  the  charge  set  down.  This  may  mean  appropria- 
tions of  the  estimated  expenditure  or  assignment  of  commands  in 
the  expeditionary  force. 

36.   all  athwart,  thwarting  our  purposes. 

38-46.  Shakespeare's  information  is  drawn  from  Holinshed 
who  writes :  "  Owen  Glendouer,  according  to  his  accustomed 
manner,  robbing  and  spoiling  within  the  English  borders,  caused 
all  the  forces  of  the  shire  of  Hereford  to  assemble  togither  against 
them,  under  the  conduct  of  Edmund  Mortimer,  earle  of  March. 
But  coming  to  trie  the  matter  by  Imttell,  whether  by  treason  or 
otherwise,  so  it  fortuned,  that  the  English  power  was  discomfited, 
the  earle  taken  prisoner,  and  above  a  thousand  of  his  people  slaine 
in  the  place.  The  shamefull  villanie  used  by  the  Welsh  women 
towards  the  dead  carcasses  was  such  as  honest  eares  would  be 
ashamed  to  heare,  and  continent  toongs  to  speake  thereof." 

39.   Herefordshire,  here  pronounced  Harfordshire. 

43.  corpse,  corpses. 

44.  transformation,  mutilation. 

49.  did.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  first  two  Quartos.  The 
later  Quartos  and  the  Folios  read  like. 

52.  Holyrood  day,  or  Holy-cross  day,  was  instituted  as  a  church 
festival  in  memory  of  the  recovery  by  the  Emperor  Heraclius 
of  a  portion  of  the  cross  of  Christ.  The  date  of  the  festival  is 
September  14. 

63.  Archibald,  Earl  of  Douglas. 

64.  approved,  well-tried. 

66.   Holmedon.     The  modern  Humbleton  in  Northumberland. 

66.  sad,  serious. 

67.  artillery.     Shakespeare    may  have   misunderstood    Holina- 
hed's  "  English  shot,"    which    really  meant   arrows.     "  Artillery 
formerly  included  bows  as  well  as  guns,  but  that  Shakespeare  had 
the  latter  in  mind  is  clear  from  the  context  and  from  the  explicit 
mention  of  '  vile  guns  '  (i.  3.  63)  and  '  salt-petre  '  (i.  3.  60)  "  (Cowl). 

68.  shape  of  likelihood,  according  to  our  conjectures  of  what  was 
probable. 

69.  them,  i.e.  the  news.     Elizabethan  usage  in  respect  to  nevt 
and  tidings  was  unsettled. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  123 

61.  any  way,  either  way. 

62.  a  dear,  a  true  industrious  friend.     Sir  Walter  Blunt's  char- 
acter is  here  summed  up  in  a  single  verse.     He  plays  the  part  of 
"  true  industrious  friend  "  to  the  king  throughout  the  drama. 

63.  new  lighted,  newly  alighted. 

64.  the  variation  of  each  soil,  the  various  kinds  of  soil. 

66.  smooth  and  welcome  news.  The  adjectives  are  in  direct 
antithesis  to  the  uneven  and  unwelcome  news  mentioned  in  1.  50  above. 

69.   Balk'd,  piled  up  in  balks  or  ridges. 

71.  Mordake,  Murdach  Stewart,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Albany, 
Regent  of  Scotland.  Shakespeare,  following  Holinshed,  makes 
him  the  son  of  Douglas.  Holinshed's  account  of  the  battle  and 
the  capture  is  as  follows :  "  For  at  a  place  called  Homildon,  they 
[the  Scots]  were  so  fiercely  assailed  by  the  Englishmen,  under  the 
leading  of  the  lord  Persie,  surnamed  Henrie  Hotspur,  and  George 
earle  of  March,  that  with  violence  of  the  English  shot  they  were 
quite  vanquished  and  put  to  flight,  on  the  Rood  day  in  harvest, 
with  a  great  slaughter  made  by  the  Englishmen.  There  were  slaine 
of  men  of  estimation  sir  John  Swintcn,  sir  Adam  Gordon,  sir  John 
Leviston,  sir  Alexander  Ramsie  of  Dalhousie,  and  three  and  twentie 
knights,  besides  ten  thousand  of  the  commons;  and  of  prisoners 
among  other  were  these  —  Mordacke  earle  of  Fife,  son  to  the  gov- 
ernour  Archembald  earle  Dowglas,  which  in  the  fight  lost  one  of  his 
eies,  Thomas  earle  of  Murrey,  Robert  earle  of  Angus,  and  (as  some 
writers  have)  the  carles  of  Atholl  and  Menteith,  with  five  hundred 
other  of  meaner  degrees." 

76-77.  In  faith  It  is.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  Cambridge 
editors.  Q  1  and  Q  2  read  as  follows : 

"  A  gallant  prize  ?  ha,  cousin,  is  it  not  ?     In  faith  it  is. 
Westmoreland.     A  conquest  for  a  prince  to  boast  of." 

78.  there  thou  makest  me  sad.  In  saying  the  conquest  was  one 
that  a  prince  might  boast  of,  you  make  me  think  of  my  son's  neglect 
of  military  honor. 

78-79.  makest  me  sin  In  envy.  Coriolanus  (i.  1.  234),  reflect- 
ing upon  the  valor  of  the  leader  of  the  Volsces,  utters  the  samt 
thought : 

"  I  sin  in  envying  his  nobility, 
And  were  I  any  thing  but  what  I  am, 
I  would  wish  me  only  he." 

83.  minion,  darling  (Fr.  mignori). 


124  KIMi    1IKNRY   THE   FOURTH     [Arr  OVE 

84  86.  Whilst  I  .  .  .  my  young  Harry.  With  this  reference  to 
Prince  Henry  may  l>e  compared  the  following  verses  uttered  by 
Henry  IV  as  Bolingbroke  in  Richard  II,  v.  3.  1  : 

"  Can  no  man  tell  me  of  my  unthrifty  son? 
*T  is  full  three  months  since  I  did  see  him  last: 
If  any  plague  hang  over  us,  't  is  he." 

87.  some  night-tripping  fairy.  .  .  .  Shakespeare,  as  noticed 
else  when1,  makes  the  Prin<v  of  Wales  and  Hotspur  equal  in  years, 
whereas  in  reality  Hotspur  was  the  older  by  twenty-three  years. 

91.  let  him  from,  i.e.  let  him  go  from.  A  verb  of  motion  is 
frequently  omitted  in  Shakespeare. 

93.  surprised,  captured. 

95.  /  shall  have  none  .  .  .  Fife.  "  Percy  had  an  exclusive  right 
to  these  prisoners,  except  the  Karl  of  Fife.  By  the  law  of  arms, 
every  man  who  had  taken  any  captive,  whose  redemption  did  not 
exceed  ten  thousand  crowns,  hud  liim  clearly  for  himself,  either  to 
acquit  or  ransom,  at  his  pleasure  "  (Toilet).  The  Karl  of  Fife, 
being  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal,  fell  to  the  share  of  the  king. 

97.  aspects,    respects.     The   word   has    here   as   elsewhere   an 
astrological  meaning. 

98.  prune,  preen;  as  a  bird  preens  its  feathers. 

98-99.  bristle  .  .  .  dignity,  sets  young  Hotspur  against  your 
majesty.  Cf.  v.  2.  20-23. 

101-102.  we  must  neglect  .  .  .  Jerusalem.  The  projected 
enisade  is  thus  postponed  sine  die.  Toward  the  end  of  2  Henry  IV 
(iv.  5.  210),  the  king  in  counseling  the  Prince  of  Wales  for  the  future 
reveals  that  his  projected  crusade  had  been  planned  for  the  purpose 
of  diverting  the  minds  of  his  people  from  civil  war.  Considered  in 
the  light  of  the  scene  as  a  whole,  it  seems  ns  though  the  project,  as 
set  forth  in  the  king's  opening  speech,  was  a  mere  pretence  on  his 
part.  When  he  asks  Westmoreland  what  has  been  done  to  forward 
"  this  dear  experience,"  he  knows  of  the  battle  of  Holmedon  and  of 
Percy's  refusal  to  deliver  up  his  prisoners.  He  has  sent  for  Percy, 
and  foresees  that  trouble  is  in  store;  he  knows,  that  the  crusade  will 
have  to  be  postponed  until  the  matter  is  settled. 

107.  Than  out  of  anger  .  .  .uttered.  "Now  while  we  are  angry 
is  not  a  fitting  time  either  to  plan  or  to  act."  The  scene  begins 
with  thoughts  of  peace,  but  ends  in  anger. 


SCENE  Two] 


NOTES 


125 


SCENE  2 

The  passage  from  the  first  to  the  second  scene  is  a  passage  from 
poetry  to  prose,  and  the  change  of  diction  is  significant  of  the  change 
in  the  character  of  the  surroundings.  The  constrained  and  formal 
bearing  of  the  king's  court,  from  which  Prince  Henry's  exuberant 
nature  instinctively  revolts,  is  exchanged  for  the  free  society  of  the 
prince's  apartments,  where,  as  afterwards  at  the  Boar's  Head 
Tavern  in  Eastcheap,  Falstaff  reigns  as  unconquerable  king  of  wit. 
The  whimsical  moods  of  Falstaff  as  he  turns  from  praying  to  purse- 
taking,  the  rallies  of  wit  and  the  word-play  which  pass  between 
him  and  the  prince,  offer  a  striking  contrast  to  the  preceding  scene. 
The  plot  of  the  highway  robbery,  and  the  second  plot  of  Poins  to 
rob  the  robbers,  together  with  the  foreshadowing  of  the  tavern  scene 
and  Falstaff 's  "  incomprehensible  lies,"  promise  us  full  relief  from 
the  serious  interests  of  the  play.  The  final  soliloquy  of  the  prince, 
with  the  return  to  verse-diction,  enables  us  to  judge  how  far  the  king's 
estimate  of  his  son's  real  character  is  just.  We  learn  that  beneath 
the  light-heartedness  of  "  madcap  Hal "  there  is  a  self-command  and 
a  hidden  strength  of  which  the  prince  himself  is  alone  aware. 

London.  An  apartment  of  the  Prince's.  This  stage  direction  was 
first  filled  in  by  Theobald. 

2.  fat-witted,  thick-witted,  dull.  "  With  drinking  of  old  sack  and 
sleeping  after  meals,  not  only  your  idle  body,  but  your  brain  as  well, 
has  grown  fat  and  inactive."  Cf .  fat-brained  in  Henry  V,  iii.  7.  143. 

4-7.  thou  hast  forgotten  .  .  .  day.  Why,  Hal  asks  Falstaff, 
•should  he  be  so  superfluous  as  to  inquire  about  the  time  of  day 
since,  as  his  actions  show,  he  has  no  desire  to  spend  it  well.  His 
sole  interest  in  time  is  to  spend  it  ill.  Falstaff  parries  Hal's  charge 
by  insisting  that,  although  he  may  waste  in  sleep  the  hours  of  the 
day,  it  is  wrong  on  that  account  to  assume  that  he  lives  an  un 
governed  life.  Although  he  sleeps  away  "  the  day's  beauty,"  it 
must  be  remembered  that  his  working  hours  are  at  night.  Like 
the  sea,  he  is  governed  by  the  moon;  under  her  countenance  he 
labors.  He  is  not,  therefore,  the  time  waster  that  Hal  says  he  is. 

In  this,  our  introduction  to  Falstaff,  the  fat  knight,  he  bril- 
liantly illustrates  his  ability  to  "  wrench  the  true  cause  the  false 
way."  Autolycus  (The  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  3.  16-18),  in  his  song, 
has  the  same  argument  to  justify  his  disordered  life : 

"  The  pale  moon  shines  by  night  : 
•:[•»•         And  when  I  wander  here  and  there, 
I  then  do  most  go  right." 


126  KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [ACT  OXE 

12.  why  thou  shouldst  be  so  superfluous,  why  you  should  give 
yourself  the  unnecessary  trouble. 

14.  you  come  near  me.  "  You  do  not  actually  touch  me  with 
your  charge  of  misspending  time,  but  you  come  near  me."  Here  as 
elsewhere  Falstaff's  wit  in  defending  himself  against  the  prince's 
charge  of  leading  a  disordered  life  dexterously  "  wrenches  the  true 
cause  the  false  way  "  (2  Henry  IV,  ii.  1.  120). 

16.   the  seven  stars,  the  Pleiades. 

16-17.  "  that  wandering  knight  so  fair."  It  has  Ixvn  conjec- 
tured that  this  is  a  quotation  from  some  forgotten  ballad. 

19.  grace.  The  word  is  punningly  used  in  a  threefold  sense : 
(1)  a  term  of  respect  used  in  addressing  monarch*  and  the  highest 
nobles,  (2)  piety,  (8)  thanksgiving,  grace  before  meat. 

23.  egg  and  butter.     This  was  a  "  fish-day  "  breakfast.     Fal- 
staff  tells  Hal  that  he  would  not  have,  as  king,  even  the  small 
amount  of  grace  that  would  serve  to  be  prologue  to  a  lenten  break- 
fast of  eggs  and  butter.     Cf.  Harrison's  Description  of  England,  ii. 
166 :   "  We  begin  (the  day)  with  butter  and  eggs  on  fish  days." 

24.  roundly,  plainly,  to  the  point . 

28.  body  .  .  .  beauty.  "  A  thief  of  the  day's  beauty  "  may  have 
been,  like  the  German  Tugesdicb,  a  euphemism  for  a  loafer,  and  "  a 
squire  of  the  night's  body  "  was  perhaps  a  euphemism  for  a  high- 
wayman. There  is  a  word-play  upon  "  night  "  and  "  knight," 
as  also  possibly  on  "  body,"  "  beauty,"  and  "  booty  "  (Cowl). 

30.  minions,  servants. 

33.  countenance,  favor;  a  play  on  the  literal  sense  of  the 
word. 

40.  "  Lay  by,"  lay  aside  your  arms,  stand  and  deliver. 

41.  "  Bring  in."     A  summons  to  the  innkeeper  to  bring  in  more 
sack,  etc. 

42.  the  ladder.     The  reference  is  to  the  ladder  by  wluch  the 
criminal  mounted  the  gallows.     The  ridge  is  the  cross-beam  of  the 
same. 

47.  As  the  honey  of  Hybla.     There  are  three  towns  of  this  name 
in  Sicily. 

47-48.  my  old  lad  of  the  castle.     See  Introduction,  p.  vii. 

48.  a  buff  jerkin,  a  leather  jacket.     The  word  buff,  which  has 
given  its  name  to  a  color,  means  properly  leather  prepared  from  the 
hide  of  the  ox  or  buffalo.     The  buff  jerkin  was  worn  chiefly  by  tlu- 
sheriff's  officers. 

49.  robe  of  durance.     The  quip  lies  in  the  double  meaning  of  the 
word,  (1)  a  dress  which  will  last  a  long  time,  (4)  a  prison  dress. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  127 

The  same  thought  occurs  in  the  description  of  the  catchpole  in 
A  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  2.  32 : 

"  A  devil  in  an  everlasting  garment  has  him, ' 
A  wolf ;  nay  worse,  a  fellow  all  in  buff." 

51.  quiddities,  frivclous  distinctions.  The  word  quiddity,  from 
the  late  Latin  quiditag,  was  much  in  use  among  tbe  mediaeval 
schoolmen. 

65.  heir.  The  h  in  heir  was  sometimes  pronounced  in  Shake- 
speare's time. 

67-69.  and  resolution  .  .  .  the  law?  "And  shall  a  brave 
purpose  be  thwarted  as  is  now  the  case  by  the  restraints  of  old- 
fashioned  and  decrepit  laws  ?  " 

69.   antic,  mountebank,  buffoon. 

72-73.  /  'II  be  a  brave  judge.  Steevens  has  pointed  out  the 
resemblance  of  this  thought  to  the  following  conversation  in  The 
Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V: 

Henry  V.  Ned,  so  soon  as  I  am  king,  the  first  thing  I  will  do 
shall  be  to  put  my  lord  chief  justice  out  of  office ;  and  thou  shalt 
be  my  lord  chief  justice  of  England. 

Ned.  Shall  I  be  lord  chief  justice?  By  gogs  wounds.  I  '11 
be  the  bravest  lord  chief  justice  that  ever  was  in  England. 

73.   brave,  fine. 

76.  hangman.  Contempt  and  degradation  accompanied  the 
position  of  hangman.  In  Measure  for  Measure,  for  serving  as  an 
assistant  to  the  executioner,  Pompey  is  excused  from  imprisonment. 
The  mirth  in  this  passage  lies  in  the  contrast  between  the  high 
position  imagined  by  Falstaff  for  himself  and  the  position  promised 
him  by  Hal. 

73.  jumps  with,  suits,  fits  in  with. 

80.  suits.  The  play  on  words  is  still  kept  up,  the  double  meaning 
being,  (1)  favors  being  obtained  by  court  solicitations,  (2)  suits  of 
clothes.  The  same  pun  is  found  in  As  You  Like  It,  iv.  1.  88 :  "Not 
out  of  your  apparel  and  yet  out  of  your  suit." 

81-82.  whereof  .  .  .  wardrobe.  The  felon's  clothes  were  the 
hangman's  perquisite. 

82.  'Sblood,  by  God's  (i.e.  Christ's)  blood. 

83.  a  gib  cat,  a  tom-cat ;  gib  is  a  contraction  of  Gilbert,  and  the 
phrase  "  gib  cat  "  is  used  as  we  still  use  robin  redbreast  or  torn-tit 
The  phrase  "  melancholy  as  a  cat  "  was  proverbial. 


l-js  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [At-rONE 

lugged  bear,  Iwited  l>ear,  one  that  has  been  shaken  or  pulled  by  the 
ours.  In  King  Lear  (iv.  2.  42)  we  find  "  the  head-lugged  bear." 

86.  drone.     The  drone  is  the  largest  tube  of  the  bagpii>e,  which 
fiiiits  a  hoarse  sound  like  that  of  a  drone  bee. 

85  86.  a  Lincolnshire  bagpipe.  The  l>agpi|>e,  which  we  now 
regard  as  a  pwuliarly  Scottish  instrument,  was  at  one  time  in  favor 
in  England  also. 

87.  a  hare.     Cf.  Drayton's  Polyolbion:   "  The  melancholy  hare 
is  form'd  in  brakes  and  briers." 

88.  Moor-ditch,  a  foul  and  stagnant  ditch  in  Moor-fields  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  of  London.     Dekker  compares  the  "  scouring  of 
Moor-ditch  "  to  the  clrun.sing  of  the  Augean  stables. 

90.   most  comparative,  most  apt  to  find  comparisons. 

93.   commodity,  store. 

96-96.  rated  me  ...  marked  him  not.  In  2  Henry  IV  (i.  9) 
we  have  a  similar  scene,  in  which  Kalstaff  is  rated  in  the  street  about 
Hal  by  the  Lord  Chief  Justice. 

99  100.  for  wisdom  .  .  .  regards  it.  The  prince's  words  are 
based  on  those  of  the  Hook  of  I'rorerbs,  i.  20-24:  "  Wisdom  crieth 
without ;  she  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets.  She  crieth  .  .  . 
saying,  '  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  regarded.'  " 
A  statute  was  passed  in  the  reign  of  James  I  forbidding  the  use  of 
scriptural  language  on  the  stage,  and  accordingly  in  the  Folio 
editions  the  words  "  wisdom  cries  out  in  the  streets  "  were  omitted, 
and  the  text  read  :  "  Thou  didst  well,  for  no  man  regards  it,"  which 
is  quite  meaningless. 

101.  damnable  iteration,  a  profane  habit  of  repeating  Scripture 
that  will  be  your  damnation.  The  repeating  of  sermons  and  of 
Scripture  was  one  of  the  "  heavenly  instructions  "  employed  by  the 
Puritans.  Cf.  Prynne,  Histrio-Mattix,  p.  807 :  "  Let  a  man  be  a 
diligent  hearer  and  repealer  of  sermons  and  lectures,  .  .  .  desirous 
to  sow  seeds  of  grace  and  to  plant  religion  where  ere  he  comes,  .  .  . 
he  is  called  a  Puritan." 

106.  one  of  the  wicked.  A  canting  expression  of  the  Puritans 
used  in  mimicry  by  Falstaff. 

110-111.  Where  shall  we  ...  purse,  Jack?  This  is  the  kind  of 
question  that  Falstaff  had  "  forgotten  to  demand  "  (i.  2.  5)  when  he 
inquired  of  Hal  the  time  of  day. 

112.  'Zounds,  by  God's  wounds. 

113.  baffle,  disgrace,  unknight.     The    term  is  a  technical   one 
drawn  from  the  ritual  of  chivalry.     The   baffled  knight  was  sus- 
pended by  the  heels. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  129 

116.  't  is  my  vocation.  Falstaff  is  ridiculing  here  a  phrase 
frequently  found  in  the  mouths  of  the  Puritans. 

118.  "  With  Poins'  entrance  we  hear  of  the  plot  to  rob  the  Can- 
terbury Pilgrims,  which  Falstaff  joins;   also  of  the  counterplot  to 
rob  Falstaff  and  his  friends  of  their  spoil ;  the  prince  (see  1.  214) 
will  join  the  second,   but  not  the  first.     It  is  noteworthy  that 
Shakespeare,  contrary  to  modern  dramatic  usage,  does  not  mind 
letting  his  audience  know  of  all  these  proposed  incidents  before  they 
happen ;   he  relies  for  his  main  interest  on  character  and  dialogue, 
not  on  plot  "  (Collins). 

119.  set  a  match,  plot  a  robbery. 

119-120.  saved  by  merit.  Falstaff  as  a  Protestant  bases  his 
belief  upon  faith  and  not  upon  good  works.  His  reflection  upon 
Poins'  neglect  of  good  deeds  suggests  that  he  was  as  unmindful  as 
was  Poins  in  that  direction.  However,  as  we  are  told  by  Dame 
Quickly,  who  in  Henry  V  gives  an  account  of  his  last  words,  he 
made  a  good  end  and  at  the  last  moment  escaped  the  "  hot  hole  in 
hell  "  by  crying  out  against  the  Devil  and  all  his  works. 

122.   true,  honest. 

126-127.  agrees  .  .  .  thee.  The  use  of  thee  for  thou  and  of  the 
singular  form  of  the  verb  for  the  plural  is  not  unusual  in  Shake- 
speare. 

128.   Good-Friday,  a  total  fast-day. 

133.   his  due,  i.e.  his  soul. 

136.   cozening,  cheating.     See  Glossary. 

139.  Gadshill.  Besides  being  the  name  of  a  character  in  the 
play,  it  is  also  the  name  of  a  hill  near  Rochester,  on  the  road  to 
London.  It  was  a  notorious  spot  for  highway  robberies. 

140-141.  rich  offerings.  These  were  doubtless  intended  for  the 
shrine  of  Thomas  a  Becket.  The  traders  would  probably  be  re- 
turning to  London  from  the  Continent. 

145.   in  Eastcheap,  i.e.  at  the  tavern  of  Dame  Quickly. 

149.  Yedward,  for  Edward,  Poins'  Christian  name. 

150.  I  'tt  hang  you.     I  '11  have  you  hanged. 

157-158.  if  thou  .  .  .  stand  for  ten  shillings.  "  If  you  will 
not  take  your  place  with  the  rest  of  us  and  rob  these  travelers. 
.  .  ."  There  is  also  a  secondary  meaning  implied :  "  If  you  are 
not  good  for  a  paltry  ten  shillings  robbery."  A  royal  was  a  coin  of 
the  value  of  ten  shillings. 

175.   want  countenance,  need  patronage. 

177-178.  the  latter  spring  .  .  .  summer.  Falstaff  is  thus 
addressed  because  of  the  youthful  sprightliness  and  sunshine  of  his 


130  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [Acr  ON« 

nature,  which  ho  has  preserved  with  advancing  years.  All  Hallows 
or  All  Saints'  Day  is  the  first  of  November. 

II.  1*.  Cowl  (Methuen  ed.,  p.  *J)  shows  that  Pope's  change 
of  the  to  thou  is  contrary  to  the  idiom  of  sixteenth  century 
English. 

179.   my  good  .  .  .  lord.     Cf.  Lore's  labour  's  fast,  v.  2.  530 : 

"  My  fair,  sweet  honey  monarch." 

181-182.  Falstaff,  Bardolph,  Peto  and  Gadshill.  This  is  Theo- 
bald's emendation  for  the  reading  of  the  QIJ  and  FT :  "  Falstaff, 
Harvey,  Rossill,  and  Gadshill."  There  is  no  mention  of  Harvey 
and  Rossill  elsewhere  in  the  play,  whereas  in  the  account  of  the 
robbery  in  A  -t  ii  the  robbers  are  Falstaff.  Bardolph,  Peto,  and  (lads- 
hill.  Harvry  and  Rossill  are  probably  the  names  of  the  actors  whc 
took  the  parts  of  Bardolph  and  Peto. 

183.   waylaid,  set  an  ambush. 

195.  like,  likely. 

196.  habits,  dress. 

197.  appointment,  article  of  equipment. 

201.  cases,  suits.         buckram,  coarse  linen,  stiffened  with  gum. 

203.  doubt,  fear 

209.  incomprehensible.  The  word  does  not  mean  "  unintelli- 
gible," but  "  boundless." 

211.  wards,  guards  in  fencing. 

212.  reproof,  refutation. 
219.  unyoked,  unrestrained. 

221.  contagious,  injurious.  The  image  is  similar  to  that  of 
Shakespeare's  thirty-third  Sonnet : 

"  Full  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen 
Flatter  the  mountain-tops  with  sovereign  eye,  — 
Anon  permit  the  basest  clouds  to  ride 
With  ugly  rack  on  his  celestial  face." 

224.   wanted,  needed. 

230.   accidents,  occurrences,  incidents. 

234.  falsify  men's  hopes,  deceive  men's  expectations.  This  pur- 
pose of  the  prince  is  continually  before  his  mind,  and  by  making 
him  insist  on  it,  Shakespeare  prepares  us  for  the  reformation  which 
comes  with  his  accession  to  the  throne.  In  2  Henry  IV,  v.  2,  when 
the  prince  is  at  last  king,  he  once  more  utters  in  his  address  to  the 
nobles  the  thought  set  forth  in  these  verses : 


NOTES  131 

"  I  survive, 

To  mock  the  expectation  of  the  world. 
To  frustrate  prophecies,  and  to  raze  out 
Rotten  opinion,  which  hath  writ  me  down 
After  my  seeming." 

239.  /  'II  so  offend  .  .  .  skill,  "  I  will  offend  in  such  a  way  as  to 
make  my  offence  seem  a  piece  of  good  policy."  Note  the  use  of  the 
couplet  rounding  off  the  scene,  and  indicating  its  close  to  the  spec- 
tators. 

SCENE    3 

In  this  scene  the  action  advances  rapidly.  The  seeds  of  discord 
revealed  in  scene  1  have  now  germinated,  and  as  the  scene  comes  to 
an  end  we  find  that  the  conspiracy,  the  working  out  of  which  is  the 
theme  of  the  play,  is  fully  planned.  The  arch-conspirator  is  not  the 
hesitating  Northumberland,  nor  yet  the  impetuous  Hotspur,  but 
Worcester,  who,  dismissed  from  the  king's  presence  early  in  the 
scene,  rejoins  his  brother  and  nephew  after  the  audience  is  over,  and 
inoculates  them  with  the  virus  of  rebellion.  While  Hotspur  blusters, 
Worcester  schemes  and  calculates,  and  finds  no  difficulty  in  winning 
Hotspur's  approval  of  all  his  designs. 

All  the  important  characters  of  the  play  are  now  before  us,  and  ic 
this  scene  we  are  permitted  to  gain  a  very  deep  insight  into  the  per- 
sonality of  the  famous  Hotspur.  It  is  in  keeping  with  the  deeper 
character  of  Prince  Henry  that  his  individuality  becomes  only  very 
gradually  revealed,  whereas  his  rival,  Hotspur,  comes  swiftly  into 
iull  view.  Most  of  the  outstanding  traits  in  his  character  are  set 
forth  in  this  scene :  we  realize  his  impetuousness,  his  impatience  of 
?,11  opposition,  his  chivalrous  worship  of  honor,  and  his  romanticism. 
How  vivid  a  presentation  of  the  man  is  set  before  us  in  his  own 
account  of  the  conversation  which  took  place  between  him  and 
King  Henry's  carpet-knight !  The  splendid  contempt  of  the  bluff 
man  of  action  for  the  effeminate  fopperies  of  the  courtier  enables  us 
to  see  the  high  qualities  from  which  this  contempt  springs.  The 
incident  is  Shakespeare's  own  invention.  Holinshed's  foundation 
for  this  highly  dramatic  scene  is  as  follows : 

"  Henrie  earle  of  Northumberland,  with  his  brother  Thomas,  earle 
of  Worcester,  and  his  sonne  the  lord  Henrie  Persie,  surnamed  Hot- 
spur, which  were  to  king  Henrie  in  the  beginning  of  his  reigne  both 
faithfull  freends,  and  earnest  aiders,  began  now  to  envie  his  wealth 
and  felicitie;  and  especiallie  they  were  greeved,  because  the  king 


132  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [ACT  ONE 

demanded  of  the  earle  and  his  sonne  such  Scotish  prisoners  as  were 
taken  at  HomeldoD  and  Neshit :  for  of  all  the  captives  which  were 
taken  in  the  conflicts  foughten  in  those  two  plac-cs,  there  was 
delivered  to  the  kings  possession  onlie  Mordakc  carle  of  Fife,  the 
duke  of  Allwinics  sonne,  though  the  king  did  divers  and  sundrie 
times  require  deliverance  of  the  residue,  and  that  with  great  thr-iat- 
nings :  wherewith  the  Persies  being  sore  offended,  for  that  they 
claimed  them  as  their  owne  proper  prisoners,  and  their  peculiar 
preies,  by  the  counsell  of  the  lord  Thomas  Persie  earle  of  Worcester, 
whose  studie  was  ever  (as  some  write)  to  procure  malice,  and  set 
things  in  a  broile,  came  to  the  king  unto  Windsore  (upon  a  purpose 
to  proove  him)  and  there  required  of  him,  that  either  by  ransome 
or  otherwise,  he  would  cause  to  be  delivered  out  of  prison  Edmund 
Mortimer,  carle  of  March,  their  cousine  germane,  whome  (as 
they  reported)  Owen  (Jlendower  kept  in  filthie  prison,  shakled  with 
irons,  onlie  for  that  he  tooke  his  part,  and  was  to  him  faithfull  and 
true. 

"  The  king  began  not  a  little  to  muse  at  this  request,  and  not 
without  cause:  for  indeed  it  touched  him  somewhat  neere,  sith  this 
Edmund  was  sonne  to  Roger  carle  of  March,  sonne  to  the  ladie  Philip, 
daughter  of  Lionell  duke  of  Clarence,  the  third  sonne  of  King 
Edward  the  third ;  which  Edmund  at  King  Richards  going  into  Ire- 
land, was  proclaimed  hcire  apparant  to  the  crowne  and  realme  .  .  . ; 
and  therefore  King  Hcnrie  could  not  well  heare  that  anie  man  should 
be  earnest  about  the  advancement  of  that  linage.  The  king  when 
he  had  studied  on  the  matter,  made  answer  that  the  earle  of  March 
was  not  taken  prisoner  for  his  cause,  nor  in  his  service,  but  willinglie 
suffered  himselfe  to  be  taken,  bicause  he  would  not  withstand  the 
attempts  of  Owen  Glendouer  and  his  complices,  and  therefore  he 
would  neither  ransome  him  nor  releeve  him. 

"  The  Persies  with  this  answer  and  fraudulent  excuse  were  not 
a  little  fumed,  insomuch  that  Henrie  Hotspur  said  openlie :  '  Behold 
the  heire  of  the  relme  is  nibbed  of  his  right,  and  yet  the  roblxr  with 
his  owne  will  not  redeeme  him.'  So  in  this  furie  the  Persies  de- 
parted, minding  nothing  more  than  to  depose  King  Henrie  from  the 
high  type  of  his  roialtie,  and  to  place  in  his  seat  their  cousine 
Edmund,  carle  of  March,  whom  they  did  not  onlie  deliver  out  of 
captivitie,  but  also  (to  the  high  displeasure  of  King  Henrie)  entered 
in  league  with  the  foresaid  Owen  Glendouer." 

l^ondon.  The  palace.  In  Holinshed's  narrative  this  scene 
between  the  king  and  the  Percies  takes  place  at  Windsor. 

3.   And  you  have  found  me,  found  me  out,  taken  my  measure ;  so 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  133 

in  Othello,  ii.  1.  252-253:  "a  pestilent  complete  knave;  and  the 
woman  hath  found  him  already." 

6.  my  condition,  my  natural  self. 

10-13.  Our  house,  my  liege  ...  so  portly.  Worcester's  speech 
is  deliberately  intended  to  rouse  the  king  to  anger.  Worcester,  as 
we  learn  later,  has  formed  his  conspiracy,  and  is  in  correspondence 
with  Archbishop  Scroop.  What  he  desires  is  to  stir  up  a  quarrel 
between  the  king  and  Hotspur,  and  by  so  doing  to  win  the  whole- 
hearted support  of  Hotspur  and  his  father  for  the  plans  which  he 
has  formed.  Nothing  could  irritate  Henry  so  much  as  a  bold  re- 
minder of  his  indebtedness  to  the  house  of  Percy.  The  king 
knows  the  scheming  nature  of  Worcester  and  dismisses  him  from 
his  presence. 

13.  portly,  important,  imposing. 

16.  Worcester.     Here  the  word  is  a  trisyllable. 

17.  peremptory,    audacious.     The    word    must    here    be    read 
as  a  dissyllable.     See  Appendix. 

18-19.  And  majesty.  .  .brow.  "  Kings  have  never  been  willing 
to  endure  sullen  opposition  from  their  subjects."  Frontier  is  not 
forehead,  for  that  would  cause  redundance  with  brow;  it  is  a  term 
borrowed  from  military  science,  and  denotes  an  outwork  or  line  of 
fortification.  Cf.  ii.  3.  55 :  "Of  palisadoes,  frontiers,  parapets." 
From  this  literal  meaning  is  derived  the  abstract  idea  of  opposition. 

20.  good  leave,  full  permission. 

21.  use,  assistance. 

25-26.  not  with  such  strength .  .  .  majesty,  were  not  so  resolutely 
refused  as  report  has  told  you. 

27.   envy,  ill-will,  malice. 

misprision,  misapprehension. 

34.  his  chin  new  reap'd.  The  beard  was  worn  short  by  men  of 
fashion  at  the  date  of  this  play. 

36.  milliner.  In  Shakespeare's  day  the  milliners  were  men; 
cf.  The  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4.  192: 

"  No  milliner  can 
So  fit  his  customers  with  gloves." 

ie  word  means  originally  one  who  dealt  in  wares  of  Milan. 

38.  pouncet-box,  a  perfume-box,  which  was  perforated  at  the 

with  small  holes. 

41.   Took  it  in  snuff.    The  double  entendre  is  (1)  snuffed  it  up,  and 
(2)  took  offence  at  it. 
46.    With  many  .  .  .  terms.     Hotspur  is  impatient  because  the 


184  KING   HENRY  THE   FOfRTH      [ACT  ONE 

lord  refrained  from  using  "  good  mouth-filling  oaths."  In  iii.  1. 
252  ff.  he  tuxes  his  wife  with  swearing,  not  "  like  n  lady,"  hut  "  like 
a  comfit-maker's  wife."  Biron  (lire's  labour  's  lM»t,  v.  1.  320-327) 
similarly  complains  of  Boyet  that  "  when  he  plays  at  tables,  (he) 
chides  the  dice  In  honourable  terms." 

49.  with  my  wounds  being  cold,  because  my  wounds  had  begun 
to  grow  cold  and  to  smart.  Cf.  Drayton's  Mortimeriadna,  1590: 
"  As  when  the  blood  is  cold,  we  feel  the  wound." 

60.  -popinjay,  parrot. 

61.  grief,  pain  of  l>ody.     See  Glossary. 

66.  God  save  the  mark!  This  exclamation  is  used  here  as  an 
expression  of  scorn. 

68.  Was  parmaceti  .  .  .  bruise.  "Why  this  spermaceti? 
Why  this  dwelling  upon  so  trivial  and  ludicrous  a  detail  ?  Because 
it  is  a  touch  of  reality  and  begets  illusion.  Precisely  because  we 
cannot  at  first  see  the  reason  why  Percy  should  recall  so  trifling  a 
circumstance,  it  seems  impossible  that  the  thing  should  be  a  mere 
invention.  And  from  this  insignificant  word  all  the  rest  of  the 
speech  hangs  as  by  a  chain.  If  this  be  real,  then  all  the  rest  is  real, 
and  Henry  Percy  stands  before  our  eyes,  covered  with  dust  and  blood, 
as  on  the  field  of  Holmedon.  We  see  the  courtier  at  his  side,  holding 
his  nose  as  the  bodies  are  carried  past,  and  we  hear  him  giving  the 
young  commander  his  medical  advice  and  irritating  him  to  the 
verge  of  frenzy  "  (Brandes). 

parmaceti,  spermaceti. 

62.  tall,    valiant.     Cf.    Beaumont   and    Fletcher's    Humourous 
Lieutenant,   i.  4 :    "  We   fought   like  honest   and   tall  men."     See 
Glossary. 

65.  unjointed,  disconnected,  flighty.     There  is  the  same  idea  in 
"  skipping  "  (iii.  2.  60). 

66.  indirectly,  vaguely. 

68-69.  Come  current  .  .  .  majesty.  "  Be  made  an  accusation 
against  me,  and  weaken  the  good-will  which  exists  between  myself 
and  your  majesty." 

76.   so,  so  that,  provided  that. 

78.  But  with  proviso  and  exception,  unless  suitable  terms  are 
agreed  to. 

83.  that  great  magician,  damn'd  Glendower.  The  king,  in  spite 
of  his  astuteness,  is  not  proof  against  superstition,  and  his  supersti- 
tious fear  of  Glendower  is  in  contrast  to  the  bold  scepticism  with 
which  Hotspur  meets  Glendower's  claims  to  supernatural  power  in 
iii.  1.  A  little  later  (11-  1 13-117)  he  denies  that  Mortimer  has  fought 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  135 

Glendower,  and  the  grounds  of  his  denial  disclose  his  own  dread  of 
the  Welsh  chieftain : 

"  He  durst  as  well  have  met  the  devil  alone 
As  Owen  Glendower  for  an  enemy." 

84.  The  Earl  of  March.  It  has  been  pointed  out  by  Steevens 
that  Shakespeare  here  confuses  Edmund,  Earl  of  March,  nephew 
to  Lady  Percy,  with  Sir  Edmund  Mortimer,  who  was  Lady  Percy's 
brother,  and  brother-in-law  to  Hotspur.  The  same  confusion 
appears  in  1.  144. 

87.   indent  with,  sign  indentures  with,  make  a  bargain  with. 

fears.  Various  emendations,  such  as  foes,  peers,  fools,  have  been 
suggested ;  but  there  is  no  need  to  change  the  word.  Just  as  treason 
is  used  for  traitors,  fears  stands  for  objects  of  fear.  Cf .  2  Henry  I V, 
iv.  5.  186 : 

"  All  these  bold  fears 
Thou  see'st  with  peril  I  have  answered." 

91.   one  penny  cost,  the  expenditure  of  a  single  penny. 

95.  But  by  the  chance  of  war.  Mortimer  had  been  captured  by 
Glendower  in  pitched  battle,  and  had  then  come  to  terms  with  his 
conqueror  and  married  his  daughter.  See  quotation  from  Holins- 
hed,  p.  118. 

97.  mouthed,  gaping. 

100.  confound,  consume,  spend.     This  rather  curious  use  of  con- 
found is  supported  by  a  verse  in  Coriolanus,  i.  6.  17 : 

"  How  could'st  thou  in  a  mile  confound  an  hour  ?  " 

Cf.  Falstaff's  account  of  his  encounter  with  Hotspur  (v.  4.  151), 
in  which  he  "  fought  a  long  hour  by  Shrewsbury  clock." 

101.  In  changing  hardiment,  doughty  exchange  of  blows. 

102.  Three   times   they   breathed.  .  .  .    Hotspur's  language, 
when  he  is  deeply  stirred,  acquires  an  epic  and  deeply  imaginative 
character  which  contrasts  very  strikingly  with  the  abrupt  unrhyth- 
mical diction  which  he  uses  at  other  times.     His  imagination  be- 
comes mythopceic,  and  he  personifies  the  Severn,  just  as  a  little 
later  he  personifies  Honor  and  Danger. 

106.  crisp  head,  curled  head,  rippling  surface.  King  Lear 
(iii.  1.  6)  has  "  curled  waters,"  and  The  Tempest  (iv.  1.  130),  "  crisp 
channels  "  (i.e.  of  the  brooks). 

108.   base.     This  is  the  reading  of  the  Ff ;  the  Qq  read  bare. 

policy,  craft.     The  word  is  used  here  in  a  bad  sense. 


136  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [An  ONE 

109.    Colour,  disguise. 

such  deadly  wounds.  Parolles  (AH  '*  Well,  iv.  2.4  0  ff.)  is  afraid 
to  give  himself  such  wounds  tin  will  confirm  his  "  Iwse  and  rotten 
policy."  Kdinund,  however  (  King  Lear,  ii.  1.  !J5).  inflicts  a  wound 
upon  his  arm  to  confirm  his  story  of  Kdgar's  villainy.  In  this  play 
Falstnff  contents  himself  with  hacking  his  sword,  to  make  g<x>d  the 
story  of  his  fight  at  (itulshill. 

113.    belie  him,  give  a  false  account  of  his  conduct. 

118.  sirrah.  The  king  shows  his  anger  by  using  this  word  in 
addressing  Percy. 

121.   kind,  manner. 

127.  ease  my  heart,  let  loose  my  feelings. 

128.  make  a  hazard  of,  risk. 

129.  stay  and  pause  awhile.     Northumberland  reminds  his  son 
that  it  is  no  time  to  act  when  he  is  blinded  by  anger.     King  Henry 
utters  the  same  thought  when  he  learns  of  Percy's  revolt  (i.  1.  10G- 
107): 

"  For  more  is  to  Ix?  said  and  to  be  done 
Than  out  of  anger  can  be  uttered." 

137.   ingrate,  ungrateful. 

canker'd,  corrupted.  The  canker  is  the  caterpillar.  A  second 
meaning  of  the  word,  which  is  found  in  1.  17(5,  is  the  dog-rose. 

139.   heat,  quarrel. 

143.   an  eye  of  death,  an  eye  which  threatens  death. 

145-146.  was  not  he  proclaim  d  .  .  .blood?  This  was  true  not 
of  the  Hdmund  Mortimer  who  was  defeated  by  Owen  (Jlendower, 
but  of  his  nephew,  also  called  Kdniund  Mortimer,  the  son  of  Roger 
Mortimer.  Richard  II  had  proclaimed  Edmund  Mortimer  his 
heir,  previous  to  his  last  voyage  to  Ireland  in  1398;  he  was  then  a 
boy  of  seven.  Shakespeare's  confusion  is  due  to  Holinshed. 

149.   in  us,  done  to  us. 

165.    soft,  gently,  not  so  quickly. 

163.  murderous  subornation.  j>crjury  which  has  brought  about 
murder. 

165.  second  means,  auxiliaries. 

166.  the  ladder;   this  is  the  gallows' ladder  alluded  to  by  Prince 
Henry  in  i.  4.  42. 

168.  the  predicament.  This  is  another  instance  of  Shake- 
speare's use  of  the  terminology  of  the  Sch.H>lmen.  The  predicamrntt 
or  categories,  which  were  ten  in  number,  were  the  subdi visions  under 
which  all  Being  was  ranged  by  Aristotle  for  purposes  of  predication. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  137 

Put  briefly,  Hotspur's  words  mean  "  to  show  the  position  in  which 
you  stand,  etc." 

173.  gage,  engage,  pledge.  Shakespeare  seems  to  imply  that 
Hotspur  had  little  part  in  the  dethronement  of  Richard.  He  does 
not  feel  that  he  is  included  in  the  shame,  and  is  unaware  of  Richard's 
proclamation  of  Edmund  Mortimer  as  his  heir. 

176.   canker,  dog-rose ;   cf .  Sonnet  54  : 

"  The  canker  blooms  have  full  as  deep  a  dye, 
As  the  perfumed  tincture  of  the  roses." 

183.  disdain'd,  disdainful. 
185.  answer,  repay. 

189.  your  quick-conceiving  discontents,  your  minds  which  dis- 
content has  made  quick  to  grasp  a  plan  of  action. 

193.  footing  of  a  spear.     This  figure  occurs  again  in  2  Henry  IV, 
i.  1.  170 : 

"  You  knew  he  walk'd  o'er  perils,  on  an  edge, 
More  likely  to  fall  in  than  to  get  o'er." 

194.  Ifhe.  .  .  or  sivim.     If  such  a  man  fall  into  the  current  it  is 
all  over  with  him  unless  he  can  swim.     The  saying  was  proverbial. 

195-197.  Send  danger  .  .  .  grapple.  Though  a  whole  world 
of  dangers  assail  a  man,  yet  will  there  be  nothing  to  fear  if  honor, 
proceeding  from  an  opposite  direction,  can  meet  them  in  bold 
encounter. 

201-208.  By  heaven,  methinks,  .  .  .  fellowship!  There  is  a 
characteristic  element  of  over-strain  in  this  famous  speech  of  Hot- 
spur's, which  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  have  very  happily  parodied 
in  the  high-falutin'  speech  of  Ralph,  the  grocer's  apprentice,  in 
The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle  (Induction)  : 

"  By  Heaven,  methinks,  it  were  an  easy  leap 
To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon 
Or  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
Where  never  fathom-line  touched  any  ground, 
And  pluck  up  drowned  honour  from  the  lake  of  hell." 

206.   So,  provided  that. 

208.  half-fac'd,  miserable,  venturing  to  present  only  half  a  face 
to  danger.  Cf.  2  Henry  IV,  iii.  2.  283-284  :  "  And  this  same  half- 
fac'd  fellow  Shadow ;  give  me  this  man :  he  presents  no  mark  to 
the  enemy."  The  half-fac'd  fellowship  is  probably  the  alliance  with 
Henry  IV. 


138  KING   HENRY  THE   FCHRTH      [ACT  ONB 

209.  figures.     The  word  is  u.sed  either  in  the  sense  of  "  figures 
of  .sjx'erh."  .such  as  the  personification  of  Honor,  or,  more  probably, 
in  tin-  sense  of  "  fancies,"  as  in  the  following  verses  of  Juliut  Catar, 
ii.  1.  *31 : 

"  Thou  hast  no  figures  nor  no  fantasies, 
Which  busy  care  draws  in  the  brains  of  men." 

210.  form,  the  uctual  shape,  the  substance,     attend  attend  to. 
212.   /  cry  you  mercy.     I  pray  you  forgive  my  want  of  attention. 
214.   a  Scot  of  them.     \  pun  is  no  doubt  intended.     S<t-  Glossary 

under  Scot. 

216.   start  away,  quit  the  subject. 

218.  flat,  certain. 

228.  All  studies.  .  .  defy.  I  herewith  renounce  all  other  occupa- 
tions. 

230.  sword-and-buckler.  The  wort!  which  is  here  used  adjecti- 
vally is  .similar  in  meaning  to  our  modern  "  swash-buckler."  For  the 
use  of  the  word,  cf.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Konduca,  iv.  2 : 

"  The  boy  scales  .sword  and  buckler." 

233.  /  would  have  .  .  .  ale.  The  man  who  utters  these  words 
is  he  who  has  just  declared  it  easy  "  to  pluck  bright  honour  from  the 
pale-fac'd  moon." 

236.  wasp-Stung;  this  is  the  reading  of  Q  1,  and  is  certainly 
preferable  to  the  uaspe-tongue  of  the  other  Quartos  or  the  rtiupe- 
tongu'd  of  the  Ff.  Shakespeare  was  too  exact  an  observer  of  nature 
to  place  the  wasp's  sting  in  its  mouth. 

240.  nettled,  whipped  with  nettles. 
pismires,  ants. 

241.  politician.     Like   "  policy,"   this   word   has   often  an  evil 
signification  in  Shakespeare. 

242.  what  do  you  call  the  place?     Hotspur's  forgetfulness  is  in 
keeping  with  his  impulsiveness  and  impatience.     Compare  iii.  1 . 5-6  : 

"  a  plague  upon  it ! 
I  have  forgot  the  map." 

It  is  by  these  slight  yet  telling  touches  that  Sliakespeare  makes 
his  characters  so  vividly  real. 

244.  'T  was  where  .  .  .  kept.  The  reference  is  to  Edmund, 
Duke  of  York,  uncle  of  Henry  IV,  who  plays  a  part  in  Richard  IL 

kept,  resided. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  139 

248.  Ravenspurgh.  This  is  the  name  of  the  seaport  where 
Henry  IV,  then  Bolingbroke,  landed  on  his  return  to  England.  (See 
Richard  II,  ii.  3.)  It  lay  at  the  mouth  of  the  Humber,  close  to 
Spurn  Head,  but  the  encroachments  of  the  North  Sea  swept  it  away 
soon  after  Henry  landed  there. 

251.  what  a  candy  deal  of  courtesy,  what  an  amount  of  sugared 
language.  The  position  of  candy  before  deal  instead  of  before 
courtesy  is  a  bold  use  of  poetic  license. 

253.  "  when  his  infant  fortune  came  to  age."  These  words 
are  very  much  like  those  which  Shakespeare  places  in.  Bolingbroke's 
mouth  in  Richard  II,  ii.  3.  48-49 : 

"  And  as  my  fortune  ripens  with  thy  love, 
It  shall  be  still  thy  true  love's  recompense." 

255.  cozeners.  A  play  on  the  words  cousin  and  cozener  is  prob- 
ably intended. 

261-262.  And  make  ...  in  Scotland.  "  And  make  Mordake, 
Earl  of  Fife,  your  sole  agent  for  obtaining  a  force  of  men  in 
Scotland." 

266.   bosom,  confidence. 

272.   in  estimation,  on  mere  conjecture. 

278.   still,  always. 

let'st  slip,  lettest  loose  the  greyhounds.  Cf.  Julius  Caesar,  iii. 
2.  273,  "  Cry  '  havoc,'  and  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war." 

284.  a  head,  an  armed  force. 

285.  For,  bear  .  .  .  can.     "  However  straightforward  a  course 
we  pursue.  .  .  ."     With  the  thought  here  expressed  may  be  com- 
pared the  following  passage  of  Richard  II,  spoken  by  the  king  to 
Northumberland  and  referring  to  his  [Northumberland's]  future 
relations  with  Henry  IV : 

"  thou  shalt  think, 

Though  he  divide  the  realm,  and  give  thee  half, 
It  is  too  little,  helping  him  to  all ; 
And  he  shall  think  that  thou,  which  know'st  the  way 
To  plant  unrightful  kings,  wilt  know  again, 
Being  ne'er  so  little  urged,  another  way 
To  pluck  him  headlong  from  the  usurped  throne." 

(v.  1.  59-65.) 

288.  pay  us  home,  pay  us  back. 

292.   Cousin ;  used  as  a  title  of  courtesy.     The  real  relation  was 


1 10  KING   HENRY  THE   FOt'RTH     [Acr  Two 

that  of  uncle  to  nephew.  Cousin,  used  to  denote  relationship,  had 
a  broader  meaning  at  that  time  than  it  has  now. 

292  293.  no  further  go  .  .  .  your  course.  From  di  reel  ions  such 
an  this  we  realize  how  completely  Wort-ester  is  the  guiding  spirit  of 
the  conspiracy.  The  ardent,  unreflecting  nature  of  Hotspur  is  not 
that  which  plots  a  conspiracy.  Worcester,  however,  finding  him  in 
a  mood  for  action,  panders  to  his  desire  for  revenge,  and  easily  enrolls 
him  among  the  hand  of  conspirators. 

294.   suddenly,  very  shortly. 

300.  Farewell  .  .  .  we  shall  thrive,  I  trust.  Northumberland, 
it  will  IK-  noticed,  plays  a  very  minor  part  in  hatching  the  conspiracy. 
He  is  a  weak  character,  and  in  his  words  here,  as  in  those  of  line 
278,  we  recognize  a  timorousness  which  prepares  us  for  his  subse- 
quent defection. 

302.  fields,  battlefields. 


ACT  II  —  SCENE  1 

This  scene,  with  its  vivid  presentation  of  the  bustle  of  an  Eliza- 
bethan inn  yard  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  serves  as  a  prelude 
to  what  follows.  It  is  the  aim  of  Shakespeare,  and  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan  dramatists  generally,  to  impress  upon  the  spectator  the  real- 
ity of  the  life  they  set  forth,  and  nowhere  is  this  aim  letter  realized 
than  in  scenes  such  as  the  present.  Brandes  well  says  of  this  scene  : 
"  The  night  sky,  with  Charles's  Wain  '  over  the  new  chimney,'  the 
flickering  gleam  of  the  lanterns  in  the  dirty  yard,  the  fresh  air  of  the 
early  dawn,  the  misty  atmosphere,  the  mingled  odour  of  damp  peas 
and  Ix-ans,  of  bacon  and  ginger,  all  comes  straight  home  to  our 
senses.  The  situation  takes  hold  of  us  with  all  the  irresistible  force 
of  reality." 

2.  Charles'  wain,  the  Great  Bear. 

3.  the  new  chimney.     Harrison  tells  us  in  his  Description  of 
England,  1577  (Shak.  Soc.  Pub.,  II,  2JJ9),  that  one  of  the  three  things 
to  be  marvellously  altered  in  his  day  was  "  the  multitude  of  chim- 
neys lately  erected." 

6.  beat  Cut's  saddle.  The  meaning  is,  as  the  following  words 
indicate,  "  beat  the  horse's  saddle  until  it  is  soft."  Cut  is  the  name 
frequently  given  to  a  "  curtal  "  or  docked  horse.  The  point  is  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle. 

8.    out  of  all  cess,  beyond  all  measure.     See  Glossary. 

10.    next,  quickest. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  141 

• 

11.  bots,  maggots  found  in  the  intestines  of  horses. 

12.  Robin  Ostler.     The  Ff  read  Robin  the  Ostler. 

13.  joyed,  was  cheerful. 

18.  tench.     The  comparison  hardly  seems  apposite,  but  in  Phile- 
mon Holland's  translation  of  the  ninth  book  of  Pliny's   Natural 
History  we  read :    "  In  summer  what  is  there  not  bred    within 
the  sea?     Even  the   very  fleas  that  skip  so  merrily  in  summer 
time  .  .  .  are  there  engendered  and  to  be  found  .  .  .  and  the  vermin 
is  thought  to  trouble  the  poor  fishes  in  their  sleep  by  night  within 
the  sea." 

19.  christen.    Ff  read  in  Christendom. 

20.  cock,  cock-crowing. 

24.   come  away,  come  hither,  as  in  Twelfth  Night,  ii.  4.  52. 

27.  razes,  roots.  In  The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V  there  is  a 
reference  to  the  "  great  rase  of  ginger  "  of  which  Dericke  the  carrier 
is  robbed  at  Gadshill. 

34-35.   hast  no  faith  in  thee  ?  can  no  reliance  be  placed  in  thee  ? 

43.  Ay,  when  ?  canst  tell  ?  This  is  a  colloquial  phrase  of  the 
time  and  means,  "  Don't  you  wish  you  may  get  it?  " 

60-51.  they  will  along  .  .  .  charge,  "  they  will  like  to  have  com- 
pany, for  they  carry  merchandise  of  worth." 

52.  chamberlain,  the  chamber  attendant  at  an  inn.     In  describ- 
ing the  inns  of  England,  Harrison  (Description  of  England,  III,  108) 
observes  how  the  chamberlain  of  an  inn  often  "  giveth  warning  to 
such  od  ghests  as  hant  the  house  and  are  of  his  confederacie,  to  the 
utter  undoing  of  manie  an  honest  yeoman,  as  he  journieth  by  the 
waie." 

53.  At  hand,  quoth  pick-purse.     A  proverbial  expression.     At 
hand  =  ready,  here. 

60.  franklin,  a  small  freeholder.  See  the  description  of  the 
Franklin  in  the  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales. 

the  wild  of  Kent,  the  open  country,  the  Kentish  weald. 

67-68.  Saint  Nicholas'  clerks,  thieves,  highwaymen.  This 
is  not  the  St.  Nicholas  who  was  the  patron  saint  of  scholars,  nor 
the  Santa  Glaus  of  Christmas  tide,  but  the  "  Old  Nick  "  whom  Sir 
John  Harrington  calls  "  Saunte  Satan."  See  Nares'  Glossary. 

75.  old  Sir  John,  Falstaff . 

76.  starveling.     Cf.    Starveling   the    tailor   in    A   Midsummer 
Night's  Dream. 

77.  Trojans.     Trojan  was  a  cant  term  for  a  convivial  fellow. 
81.  foot  land-rakers,  vagabonds  who  travel  over  the  country  on 

foot  and  commit  paltry  thefts. 


142  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     I  ACT  Two 

82.  long-staff  sixpenny  strikers,  men  who,  armed  with  the  long- 
staff,  r»l>  traveler!  of  paltry  sixpences. 

83.  mad     mustachio    purple-hued    malt-worms,     purple-faced 
drunkards  who  wear  fierce-looking  moustaches. 

84.  nobility  and  tranquillity,  high-born  nobles  who  live  in  case 
and  luxury. 

84-86.  great  oneyers.  Various  emendations  have  been  suggested 
for  this,  the  best  of  them  being  moneyerx.  Malone  contends  that 
oneyers  are  public  accountants,  and  that  to  ony  meant  to  settle 
accounts,  ony  being  a  corruption  of  o.  ni,  which  in  its  turn  is  an 
abbreviation  of  the  Latin  phrase,  oneratur,  nisi  habeat  sufficieniem 
exonerationem. 

85.  hold  in,  hold  together,  keep  their  ground. 

91.  boots.  Deighton  sees  a  pun  here,  interpreting  make  her 
their  boots  as  (1)  use  the  commonwealth  as  something  to  tread  on, 
(2)  turn  it  to  their  advantage. 

93.  in  foul  way,  on  a  muddy  road. 

94.  liquored,  greased  with  tallow.     Cf.  The  Merry  H'ieesof  Wind- 
sor, iv.  5.  100 :   "  They  would  melt  me  out  of  my  fat  drop  by  drop, 
and  liquor  fishermen's  boots  with  me." 

96.  fern-seed.  Fern-seed  was  popularly  l>elieved  to  render  in- 
visible those  who  possessed  it.  "  They  (our  smiths)  babble  manie 
woonders  (about  fern-seed),  and  prate  of  such  effects  as  may  well 
be  performed  indeed  when  the  feme  beareth  seed  which  is  commonly 
ad  calendas  Greecas,  for  before  it  will  not  be  found  "  (Harrison's 
Description  of  England,  I,  166). 

98.  beholding,  used  quite  generally  by  Shakespeare  for  the 
modern  beholaen. 

101.  purchase,  capture,  booty. 

104.  "  homo  "  is  a  common  name  to  all  men.  A  quotation 
from  Lily's  Latin  Grammar. 

SCENE  2 

The  plot  of  the  comic  scenes  advances  more  rapidly  than  the 
historical  plot.  In  this  scene  the  Gadshill  robbery  is  committed 
and  the  robbers  are  robbed  in  their  turn;  everything  falls  out  as 
Poins  has  foretold.  Falstaff  is  again  the  central  figiire,  and  once 
more  he  dazzles  us  with  his  vivacious  humor.  His  cries  to  the  waylaid 
travelers — "  bacon-fed  knaves  !  they  hate  us  youth  :  .  .  .  What, 
ye  knaves !  young  men  must  live  "  —  arc  among  his  best-inspired 
snllics.  The  question  of  Falstaff's  cowardice,  concerning  which 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  143 

Maurice  Morgann  has  so  much  to  say  in  his  Essay  on  the  Character  of 
Sir  John  Falstaf,  calls  for  consideration  at  this  point.  Poins' 
words  in  i.  2.  207-208  —  "  and  for  the  third,  if  he  fight  longer  than  he 
sees  reason,  I  '11  forswear  arms  "  —  are  borne  out  in  the  present 
scene,  where  we  learn  that  whereas  Falstaff's  comrades  decamp  on 
the  first  appearance  of  the  prince  and  Poins,  Falstaff  himself  does 
not  flee  until  he  has  struck  "  a  blow  or  two,"  and  has  recognized 
that  "  discretion  is  the  better  part  of  valor."  Compared  with  Gads- 
hill,  Bardolph,  and  Peto,  Falstaff  is  an  almost  heroic  figure ;  com- 
pared with  the  warlike  son  of  Edward  III,  Prince  Henry's  own 
grandfather,  he  is  less  imposing :  "  Indeed,  I  am  not  John  of  Gaunt, 
your  grandfather;  but  yet  no  coward,  Hal." 

2.  gummed  velvet.  An  allusion  to  the  practice  of  mixing  gum 
with  velvet  and  taffeta  to  stiffen  them. 

13.   by  the  squier,  measured  by  the  foot-rule. 

15.  for  all  this,  in  spite  of  all  this. 

19.  medicines,  love  philters.  • 

22.   starve.     The  word  is  used  in  its  original  sense,  "  to  die." 

39-40.  to  colt  me  thus,  to  befool  me  thus.  The  prince  puns  on 
the  word,  alluding  to  the  fact  that  Falstaff  is  horseless. 

46-47.  Go,  hang  .  .  .  garters !  "He  may  hang  himself  in  his 
own  garters  "  was  a  proverbial  expression  of  the  time. 

48.    ballads  made  on  you.  Cf .  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  v.  2. 214-215 : 

"  saucy  lictors 

Will  catch  at  us  like  strumpets ;  and  scald  rhymers 
Ballad  us  out  o'  tune." 

53.  setter.     Cf.  Falstaff's  words  in  i.  2.  118-119:    "Now  shall 
we  know  if  Gadshill  have  set  a  match." 

54.  what  news?     All  the  early  editions  of  the  play  make  the 
speech  of  Poins  end  with  the  words  Bardolph,  what  news?     But 
Johnson's  suggestion  to  make  Bardolph  the  speaker  of  the  words 
"  what  news  "  and  to  ascribe  the  following  speech  to  Gadshill  is  a 
good  one.     Gadshill,  whom  Poins  speaks  of  as  the  "  setter,"  is 
the  one  who  would  naturally  furnish   the  information  as  to  the 
travelers. 

55.  Case  ye,  put  on  your  masks. 

60.  make.  Gadshill  uses  this  verb  in  the  sense  of  "  make  us 
rich  "  ;  Falstaff,  who  follows,  treats  it  as  a  causative  auxiliary. 

76  Now  cannot  I  strike  him,  I  am  not  able  to  strike  him  (Poins) 
because  of  the  medicines  he  has  given  me.  Falstaff  throughout  is 
jealous  of  Poins,  who,  he  realizes,  comes  between  him  and  the  prince. 


144  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

80-81.   happy  man  be  his  dote,  may  good  hick  be  ours. 

88.  caterpillars,  unprofitable  memlxTs  of  the  commonwealth. 
C'f.  Richard  II.  ii.  3.  100,  when-  Kirharri'.s  favorites  are  called  by 
Bolingbroke,  "  the  caterpillars  of  the  commonwealth." 

91  92.  undone  .  .  .for  ever.  Harrison  informs  us  (Description 
of  England,  II,  108)  that  it  is  "  growne  into  a  proverbe  in  the  south, 
when  anie  man  susteineth  a  great  hindrance,  to  saie,  '  I  am  beggared 
and  all  my  barnes.'  " 

93.  gorbellied,  fat-paunched.     The  terms  of  abuse  which  Fal- 
staff  showers  down  upon  the  tnivelers  have,  without  exception,  a 
singular  application  to  himself. 

94.  chuffs,  clowns,  b<x>rs.     This  word  was  frequently  applied  to 
avaricious  persons. 

98.  true  men.  In  Elizabethan  English  the  true  man  is  the 
opposite  of  the  thief. 

100.  argument,  subject  matter. 


SCENE  S 

This  scene,  of  which  there  is  no  suggestion  in  Holinshed,  was 
inserted  by  Shakespeare  probably  in  order  to  diversify  his  charac- 
terization by  the  introduction  of  Hotspur's  wife.  Female  char- 
acters are  for  obvious  reasons  somewhat  rare  in  Shakesj>eare's 
historical  plays,  yet  we  find  that  he  seized  every  opportunity  for 
introducing  them  which  his  material  offered,  and  on  certain  occa- 
sions —  the  present  is  one  of  these  —  made  openings  himself  for 
such  introductions  when  history  failed  to  furnish  them.  The  insight 
into  Hotspur's  domestic  life  here  revealed  is  full  of  charm  :  we  feel 
that  beneath  the  feigned  nonchalance  of  his  bearing  toward  his  wife 
there  is  deep  sympathy  and  love.  Hotspur  will  not  tell  her  his 
see-ret,  yet  he  declares,  "  Whither  I  go,  thither  shall  you  go  too." 
Husband  and  wife  are  well  matched,  and  the  sprightliness  which 
comes  from  high  spirits  is  almost  as  much  the  portion  of  I^ady  Percy 
as  of  her  husband.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  with  this  scene  the 
more  sedate  one  in  Julius  Ctpsar  where  Portia  entreats  her  husband 
Brutus  to  make  her  a  sharer  in  his  secret  and,  unlike  Lady  Percy 
does  not  entreat  in  vain. 

Warkworth.  \Varkworth  is  in  Northumberland,  'JO  miles  north  of 
Newcastle.  Warkworth  C'astle,  the  seat  of  the  1'ercies,  was  founded 
in  the  reign  of  Stephen. 

a  letter.     The  writer  of  the  letter  is  not  indicated. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  145 

1.  "  But,  for  mine  own  part  .  .  ."  The  impetuousness  of  Hot- 
spur, which  opposition  changes  to  peevish  impatience,  is  well 
brought  out  in  his  comments  on  the  letter  he  is  reading.  We  must 
imagine  him  striding  up  and  down  the  room  as  he  reads,  with  that 
peculiar  gait  of  which  Lady  Percy  tells  in  2  Henry  IV.  His  con- 
tempt for  the  writer  of  the  letter  is  expressed  in  every  word  and 
gesture.  The  man  is  a  "  fool,"  "  a  shallow  cowardly  hind,"  "a 
lack-brain,"  "a  dish  of  skim  milk,"  "  a  frosty-spirited  rogue,"  "  a 
pagan  rascal,"  whom  Hotspur  threatens  to  "  brain  with  his  lady's 
fan."  Incidentally,  we  learn  of  the  progress  made  by  the  con- 
spirators, who  now  number,  in  addition  to  the  Percies,  Edmund 
Mortimer,  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Owen  Glendower,  and  Hotspur's 
old  enemy,  Douglas.  The  king  is  as  yet  in  the  dark,  and  Hotspur 
is  prepared  to  march  the  same  evening. 

13.  unsorted,  ill  adapted. 

20.  expectation,  promise. 

22.  my  lord  of  York.  This  was  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Richard 
Scroop,  who  appears  in  iv.  4,  and  is  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  later 
conspiracy.  (See  2  Henry  IV.) 

24-25.  /  could  brain  .  .  .  fan.  A  similar  fancy,  perhaps  sug- 
gested by  these  words  of  Hotspur,  occurs  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Wit  at  Several  Weapons: 

"  Wer  't  not  better 
Your  head  were  broke  with  the  handle  of  a  fan  ?" 

In  both  instances  the  extreme  weakness  of  the  person  against  whom 
the  threat  is  breathed  is  forcibly  suggested. 

28.  the  Douglas,  Archibald,  Earl  of  Douglas,  the  late  enemy  of 
Hotspur,  but  now  reconciled  to  him  through  common  hostility  to 
Henry  IV. 

34-36.  I  could  divide  ...  an  action.  I  could  cut  myself  in  half, 
and  make  one  half  fisticuff  the  other  for  bringing  so  splendid  an 
undertaking  before  the  notice  of  such  a  coward. 

39.  Kate.     Lady   Percy's   real  name  was  Elizabeth.     Steevens 
remarks  the  extraordinary  fondness  which  Shakespeare  seems  to 
have  had  for  the  "  familiar  appellation  of  Kate,  which  he  is  never 
weary  of  repeating,  when  he  has  once  introduced  it." 

40.  O,  my  good  lord  .  .  .     We  scarcely  need  Lady  Percy's  de- 
scription of  Hotspur's  troubled. dreams  to  realize  the  excitability  of 
his  temper.     But  how  vivid  a  picture  she  gives  us  of  her  husband's 
frame  of  mind !     The  loss  of  appetite  and  color,  the  sudden  starts, 
the  sleep  so  troubled  — 


146  KIN(;   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

"  That  beads  of  sweat  have  stood  upon  thy  brow 
Like  bubbles  in  a  late-disturbed  stream  " 

all  serve  to  indicate  how  foreign  to  Hotspur  was  the  position  in 
which  he  now  found  himself,  how  unfitted  his  open,  generous  nature 
was  to  take  part  in  a  conspiracy  which  was  as  yet  kept  secret.  \Vc 
may  compare  with  Lady  Percy's  words  those  uttered  by  Portia  to 
Brutus  (Julius  Cvsur,  ii.  1.  2.52) : 

"  It  will  not  let  you  eat,  nor  talk,  nor  sleep. 
And,  could  it  work  so  much  upon  your  shape 
As  it  hath  much  prevail'd  on  your  condition, 
I  should  not  know  you,  Brutus.     Dear  my  lord, 
Make  me  acquainted  with  your  cause  of  grief." 

44.   stomach,  appetite. 

49.  thick-eyed,  dull  of  vision,  gloomy. 

50.  thy  faint.     The  later  Quartos  changed   thy  to   my,   quite 
needlessly. 

52.   Speak  terms  of  manage,  give  directions. 

64.  retires,  retreats. 

55.  palisadoes,  entrenchments  made  of  stakes. 
frontiers,  outworks. 

56.  basilisks,  pieces  of  ordnance.     See  Glossary. 
culverin.     This  also  was  a  form  of  cannon.     See  Glossary. 

68.  currents,  courses.  Some  editors  read  'current*,  i.e.  occur- 
rences, heady,  impetuous. 

65.  On  some  .  .  .  hest,  on  suddenly  receiving  some  important 
command. 

72.   crop-ear,  a  horse  whose  ears  have  been  docked. 

74.    back,  mount,     straight,  straightway. 

esperance!  This  was  the  motto  of  the  Percy  family,  and  Hot- 
spur makes  it  his  war-cry.  Holinshed,  describing  the  battle  of 
Shrewsbury,  says:  "The  adversaries  cried  Esperance  Persie,  and 
so  the  two  armies  furiouslie  joined." 

78.  conies  you  away.  Lady  Percy  seems  to  use  the  words  in 
reference  to  Hotspur's  absent-mindedness.  "  What  is  it  that  makes 
you  pay  no  attention  to  my  question  ?  "  Hotspur,  however,  inter- 
prets the  words  literally. 

80.  Out,  you  mad-headed  ape!  ...  As  yet  Lady  Percy  has 
spoken  seriously  and  feelingly ;  now,  Ending  that  Hotspur  will  not 
treat  her  seriously,  she  quickly  changes  her  mood,  and  assumes  a 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  147 

light  bantering  tone,  which  enables  her  to  meet  her  husband  on  his 
own  self -chosen  ground. 

81.  A  weasel  .  .  .  spleen.  The  spleenishness  of  the  weasel 
seems  to  have  been  proverbial.  Cf.  Cymbeline,  iii.  4.  161-162: 

"  Ready  in  jibes,  quick-answer'd,  saucy,  and 
As  quarrelous  as  the  weasel." 

86.   his  title,  his  claim  to  the  throne.     See  i.  3.  155-156. 
86.   To  line,  to  support.     Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  3.  111-113: 

"  Whether  he  was  combined 
With  those  of  Norway,  or  did  line  the  rebel 
With  hidden  help  and  vantage.  .  .  ." 

88.  paraquito,  little  parrot.     The  allusion  is  to  the  ceaseless  and 
inconsequent  chatter  of  the  parrot  kind. 

89.  directly,  to  the  point. 

90.  break,  pinch.     "  To  '  break  '  or  '  pinch  '  the  little  finger 
was  '  a  token  of  amorous  dalliance.'  " 

95.  mammets.  The  usual  meaning  of  this  word  is  "  puppets," 
"  dolls,"  and  Shakespeare  uses  it  in  this  sense  in  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
iii.  5.  185-187,  applying  the  term  to  a  woman,  as  he  does  here : 

"  And  then  to  have  a  wretched  puling  fool, 
A  whining  mammet,  in  her  fortunes  tender, 
To  answer  '  I  '11  not  wed  —  I  cannot  love.'  " 

Gifford,  however,  suggested  that  Hotspur's  mammet  was  a  different 
word,  based  upon  the  Latin  mamma,  and  signifying  "  breasts." 
This  would,  of  course,  make  the  connection  between  this  and  the 
following  phrase  —  "  tilt  with  lips  "  =  kiss  —  somewhat  closer. 

97.  And  pass  them  current  too.  The  phrase  is  intelligible  only 
when  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  the  word  crowns  is  used  in  a  double 
sense :  (1)  the  crown  of  the  head ;  (2)  a  five-shilling  piece.  It  is 
the  latter  meaning  which  is  used  in  the  above  phrase  —  "  and  cir- 
ite  them  too." 

God  's  me.     God  is  for  me,  God  is  on  my  side. 

107.   whereabout,  on  what  errand. 

114.   Thou  wilt  not  .  .  .  know.     This  is  a  proverbial  saying, 

id  finds  a  place  in  Ray's  Proverbs  under  the  form :  "  A  woman 
onceals  what  she  knows  not."  Chaucer  has  something  very  like 
it  in  his  Tale  of  Melibceus:  "  Ye  sayn  that  the  janglerie  of  wommen 
an  Hyde  things  that  they  wot  not  of." 

120.  of  force,  necessarily,  perforce. 


148  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 


SCENE  4 

This  famous  scene  is  estimated  by  many  as  the  most  mirthful 
wene  in  the  whole  range  of  dramatic  literature.  Falstaff  engages 
here  in  his  hardest  fight,  in  which  the  weapons  are  not  swords  but 
words ;  and  though  at  last  he  is  forced  to  cry,  "  Ah,  no  more  of  that, 
Hal.  an  thou  lovest  me,"  we  feel  that  he  comes  out  of  the  conflict,  in 
which  the  odds  have  Ix-en  so  heavy  against  him,  crowned  with  glory. 
The  opening  of  the  scene  is,  at  least  to  the  reader,  dull  enough,  and 
it  is  hard  to  force  a  laugh  at  Francis'  "  Anon,  anon,  sir  " ;  but  the 
appearance  of  Falstaff,  who  is  throughout  the  play  a  whetstone  to 
the  prince's  wit,  lifts  us  at  once  into  the  region  of  high  comedy. 
In  the  narrative  of  the  men  in  buckram,  told  with  Falstaff's  splendid 
command  of  exaggeration,  the  knight  plays  the  braggart;  but  in  a 
moment  the  whole  situation  is  changed  by  the  prince's  "  plain  tale," 
and  Falstaff  finds  himself  at  bay  and  hard  bestead.  Then  it  is  that 
his  resourcefulness  and  jM>wers  of  evasion  an-  brought  into  full  play. 
Nor  does  the  banquet  of  wit  end  here:  Falstaff's  impersonation  of 
the  king  and  then  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  conceived  in  the  most 
humorous  fashion ;  the  parody  of  the  "  Cambyses  vein,"  and  that  of 
the  euphuistic  jargon  in  fashion  at  the  Klizal>ethan  court,  is  delight- 
ful, while  the  ease  with  which  the  knight  plays  either  part  and  turns 
it  to  his  own  advantage  reveals  yet  further  the  versatility  and  bril- 
liance of  his  wit.  That  wit  seems  inexhaustible.  He  resents  the 
interruption  of  Hardolph  telling  of  the  approach  of  the  sheriff,  and 
exclaims,  "  Play  out  the  play :  I  have  much  to  say  in  the  behalf 
of  that  Falstaff." 

The  play-acting  of  Falstaff  and  the  prince  in  the  second  part  of 
the  scene  may  have  Ix^en  suggested  to  Shakes|>eare  by  a  scene  in 
The  b'ammi.i  Victories,  in  which  Dericke  and  John  ("oblcr  act  over 
again  the  scene  in  which  the  Prince  of  Wales  gave  the  Ix>rd  Chief 
Justice  a  box  on  the  ear,  and  was  forthwith  committed  to  prison. 
A  quotation  of  a  part  of  the  scene  will  bring  out  the  points  of 
resemblance : 

Dericke.     Faith  John,  lie  tell  thee  what,  thou  shall  be  my 
Lord  Chiefe  Justice,  and  thou  shall  sit  in  the  chaire. 
And  ile  be  the  yong  Prince,  and  hit  thee  a  IK>X  on  the  eare, 
And  then  thou  shall  say,  to  teach  you  what  prerogatives  meane,  I 
<x»mmil  you  lo  the  Fleete. 

John.    Come  on,  Ile  l>e  your  Judge, 
Hut  thou  shall  uol  hil  me  hard. 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  149 

Der.     No,  no. 

John.   What  hath  he  done  ? 

Der.   Marry  he  hath  robd  Dericke. 

John.   Why  then  I  cannot  let  him  goe. 

Der.   I  must  needs  have  my  man. 

John.   You  shall  not  have  him. 

Der.   Shall  I  not  have  my  man,  say  no  and  you  dare. 
How  say  you,  shall  I  not  have  my  man  ? 

John.   No  marry  shall  you  not. 

Der.   Shall  I  not  John? 

John.   No  Dericke. 

Der.   Why  then  take  you  that  till  more  come. 
Sownes,  shall  I  not  have  him  ? 

John.   Well  I  am  content  to  take  this  at  your  hand, 
But  I  pray  you  who  am  I  ? 

Der.   Who  art  thou,  Sownds,  doost  not  know  thy  selfe  ? 

John.   No. 

Der.   Now  away  simple  fellow. 
Why,  man,  thou  art  John  the  Cobler. 

John.   No,  I  am  my  Lord  Chiefe  Justice  of  England. 

Der.   Oh  John,  Masse  thou  saist  true,  thou  art  indeed. 

John.   Why  then,  to  teach  you  what  prerogatives  mean,  I  commit 
you  to  the  Fleete. 

The  Boars-  Head  Tavern.  This  is  the  tavern  to  which  the  prince 
and  his  comrades  resort  after  their  robbery  of  the  king's  receivers  in 
The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V. 

1.  fat,  full  of  dense  air  (see  N.  E.  D.}.     A  pun  on  fat  =  rat  may 
be  intended. 

2.  lend  me  thy  hand,  help  me. 

6.  base-string.     The  figure  is  drawn  from  stringed  instruments, 
the  base-string  being  the  string  which  produces  the  lowest  bass  note. 
The  base-string  of  humility  means,  therefore,  the  depths  of  degradation. 

7.  sivorn  brother.     This  refers  to  the  custom  of   Bruderschaft 
drinken.     leash,  a  set  of  three,  i.e.  Tom,  Dick,  and  Francis. 

drawers,  tapsters. 

9-10.   take  it  upon,  swear  by. 

13.  a  Corinthian,  a  prince  of  topers ;  the  word  must  not  be  in- 
terpreted exactly  in  the  sense  of  "  debauchee,"  as  many  of  Shake- 
speare's commentators  have  interpreted  it.  The  words  which  follow 
—  "a  lad  of  mettle,  a  good  boy  "  —  indicate  that  the  term  is  one  of 
compliment. 


1.00  KIM;    HENRY   THE   FOIKTH     [Ac-r  Two 

17.  watering,  drinking. 

18.  play  it  off,  drink  it  down. 

18  21.  To  conclude,  I  am  .  .  .  during  my  life.  In  whatever 
light  we  muy  regard  the  prince's  tap-room  indulgences,  we  must 
recognize  the  ea.se  with  which  he  can  place  himself  on  a  level  with 
those  beneath  him  and,  l>y  mastering  their  "  language,"  see  life 
from  their  standpoint.  In  the  play  of  Henry  V  we  recognize  the 
value  of  this.  The  king  associates  with  the  humblest  of  lu's  soldiers, 
learns  to  appreciate  their  manner  of  life,  and  wins  their  sympathy 
and  confidence.  His  conduct  is  a  delil>erate  reaction  from  that  of 
his  father,  whose  aim  was  to  assume  "  the  grand  air  "  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  to  suffer  nothing  to  lower  the  formal  dignity  of  his  kinglj 
state. 

19.  a  proficient,  an  expert. 
23.   action,  combat. 

26.  pennyworth  of  sugar.  It  was  the  custom  for  drawers  to  keep 
pennyworths  of  sugar  wrapped  up  in  pajxT,  ready  for  placing  in  a 
glass  of  sack. 

26.   under -skinker,  tapster's  l>oy. 

30.    bastard,  a  sweet  wine  from  Spain. 

Half-moon.  This,  like  the  "  Pomgarnet "  a  little  farther  on,  is 
the  name  of  a  special  room  in  the  tavern. 

39.    Thou  art  perfect,  you  act  the  part  perfectly. 

42.   Pomgarnet,  Pomegranate. 

66.    books,  Bibles. 

73.  Anon,  Francis?  The  prince  humorously  applies  Francis' 
word  to  his  offer  of  a  thousand  pounds. 

77-80.  WOt  thou  rob  ...  Spanish-pouch.  The  prince  Is  here 
describing  the  vintner  or  landlord  of  the  house,  who  appears  imme- 
diately afterwards.  The  epithets  used  are  descriptive  of  the  vint- 
ner's dress  and  person ;  not-pated  is  usually  explained  as  "  with 
close-cropped  hair."  In  Chaucer's  description  of  the  yeoman  (Pro- 
logue to  Canterbury  Talcs,  v.  109),  we  read:  "  A  not-heed  hadde 
he  with  a  broun  visage,"  where  Skeat  interprets  nol-hecd  as  "  crop- 
head,"  and  gives  several  instances  of  the  verb  to  not!  in  the  sense  of 
"  to  cut,"  "  to  poll." 

78.  agate-ring.     This  was  a  ring  of  small  value  worn  by  the 
vintner. 

Puke-stocking,  one  who  wears  stockings  of  a  dull  gray  color. 

79.  caddis-garter,  a  garter  of  worsted  lace. 

79-80.  Spanish-pouch.  The  vintner's  i>ouch  was  the  purse  or 
!>a«  in  which  he  placed  his  money. 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  151 

82.  brown  bastard.  Bastard  wine  was  of  two  colors,  brown  and 
white. 

84-85.  in  Barbary  ...  so  much.  The  statement  is  quite  irrele- 
vant, and  is  uttered  only  to  detain  Francis. 

101.  match,  device.  The  Francis  episode  is  a  little  tiresome, 
but  it  would  seem  from  this  question  of  Poins's  that  it  was  intended 
to  lead  up  to  something.  Such,  however,  is  not  the  case. 

106.  goodman  Adam.  Cf.  "  goodman  Verges  "  (Much  Ado). 
The  word  is  used,  like  "  gaffer,"  as  a  mark  of  easy  familiarity. 

106-107.  the  pupil  age  .  .  .  midnight,  the  modernity  of  this 
present  midnight  hour. 

112-113.  His  industry  .  .  .  reckoning.  "He  employs  his 
time  in  running  upstairs,  and  his  powers  of  speech  do  not  extend 
beyond  enumerating  the  particular  items  in  the  bill." 

114-121.  I  am  not  .  .  .a  trifle.  Hotspur  has  already  (i.  3.  230) 
given  us  his  opinion  of  Prince  Henry,  and  we,  who  know  the  truth 
concerning  the  Prince  of  Wales,  recognize  how  false  that  opinion  is. 
The  prince's  reference  to  Hotspur,  on  the  other  hand,  is  as  shrewdly 
penetrating  as  it  is  full  of  delightful  humor. 

115.    me.     See  Glossary. 

122-123.  I 'U  play  Percy.  ...  Since  it  is  Hal  who  says  to  Fal- 
staff,  "  Pray  God,  you  have  not  murdered  some  of  them,"  the  part 
he  plays  seems  to  be  that  of  Dame  Mortimer,  who  had  asked  her 
husband  how  many  he  had  killed. 

123.  brawn.     The  reference  is  to  Falstaff.     Harrison's  descrip- 
tion of  the  making  of  brawn  shows  us  the  fitness  of  applying  the  term 
to  Falstaff.     "  It  is  made  commonlie  of  the  fore  parts  of  a  tame 
bore  .  .  .  dieted  with  otes  and  peason  ...  til  his  fat  be  hardened  " 
(p.  9) .     "  Of  his  former  parts  is  our  brawne  made ;  the  rest  is  nothing 
so  fat"  (p.  11,  Description  of  England}. 

124.  Rivo!     A  common  cry    of   tipsy  revellers,   the  origin  of 
which  is  obscure.     Its  association  with  the  word  Castiliano  suggests 
that  it  hails  from  Spain.     Cf.  The  Jew  of  Malta :   "  Hey,  rivo,  Casti- 
liano, a  man's  a  man." 

130.  nether  stocks,  stockings.  The  threat  is  similar  to  the  wish 
expressed  a  little  later:  "  I  would  I  were  a  weaver."  See  note  on 
11.  146-147. 

132.   virtue,  valor,  manliness. 

134-135.  pitiful-hearted  Titan  .  .  .  sun's.  Warburton  suggested 
that  the  words  "  pitiful-hearted  Titan  "  should  be  placed  in  paren- 
theses. This  would  make  the  relative  that  refer  back  to  the  butter  which 
melted  when  the  sun-god,  the  Titan  Hyperion,  approached  it  to  tell 


152  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  Two 

his  story  and  imprint  his  kiss  upon  it.  It  seems  to  be  a  ludicrous 
application  of  the  (Jreck  myth  of  Icarus.  Steevens  proposed  to 
read  AM  fton,  and  saw  in  the  passage  a  reference  to  Apollo  and  his  son 
Phacthon.  The  allusion  is,  as  Theobald  observed,  to  Falstaff 
entering  in  a  great  heat. 

137.  here  's  lime  in  this  sack.  The  practice  of  putting  lime  or 
gypsum  into  wines  was  not  to  adulterate,  but  to  preserve  them. 
Thus,  in  Sir  II.  Hawkins  Voyages  we  read  :  "  Since  the  Spanish  sacks 
have  been  common  in  our  taverns,  which  for  conservation  are 
mingled  with  lime  in  the  making,  our  nation  complains  of  calentures, 
of  the  stone,  of  dropsy,  and  infinite  other  distempers  not  heard  of 
before  this  wine  came  into  frequent  use." 

143.  a  shotten  herring,  a  herring  that  has  spawned  and  is,  in 
consequence,  of  little  value. 

146.    the  white,  the  age  we  live  in. 

146-147.  /  would  I  were  ...  or  any  thing.  When  the  CalvinLsta 
in  Flanders  were  subjected  to  persecution  by  the  Spanish  under  the 
Duke  of  Alva,  in  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  many  of 
them  fled  to  England  and  set  up  their  weaving  looms  in  Norfolk 
and  in  the  district  of  London  called  Petty  Flanders.  Like  the  Lol- 
lards, these  refugees  were  famous  for  their  singing  of  psalms.  Cf. 
Jonson's  SUent  Woman,  iii.  4  :  "  He  got  this  cold  with  sitting  up  late, 
and  singing  catches  with  cloth-workers."  In  the  Folio  editions  the 
words  "  psalms  or  any  thing  "  are  changed  to  "  all  manner  of 
songs,"  and  the  change  indicates  the  way  in  which  the  Act  forbid- 
ding the  use  of  scriptural  language  was  carried  into  effect. 

161.  a  dagger  of  lath.  Such  a  dagger  was  carried  by  Vice  in  the 
Morality  plays,  and  with  it  he  belalx>red  the  characters  on  the  stage, 
and  provided  the  spectators  with  a  source  of  merriment.  Cf. 
Twelfth  Night,  iv.  2.  1 1G  :  "  Like  to  the  old  Vice  .  .  .  with  dagger  of 
lath."  The  harlequin  of  the  modern  pantomime  is  similarly  equipped. 

172.   All 's  one  for  that,  that  makes  no  difference. 

176.  this  day  morning.  Only  Q  1  and  Q  2  have  this  reading. 
The  later  Quartos  omit  day. 

182.   at  half-sword,  at  close  quarters. 

187.  ecce  signum!  Falstaff  shows  his  hacked  sword.  Cf. 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Woman  Pleased,  III,  iv:  "Here's  the 
blood,  gentlemen  !  Ecce  signum  !  " 

198.  an  Ebrew  Jew.  "  The  natives  of  Palestine  were  called 
Hebrew's  by  way  of  distinction  from  the  stranger  Jews,  denominated 
Greeks  "  (Steevens). 

201.   come.    Q  8,  F  3,  and  F  4  read  came. 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  153 

202.  other,  others. 

205-206.  a  bunch  of  radish.  In  2  Henry  IV,  iii.  2.  234.  Falstaff 
compares  Shallow  to  "  a  forked  radish." 

213.  paid,  killed. 

215.   ward,  guard  at  fence. 

222.   mainly,  mightily. 

227.  In  buckram.  Whalley's  conjecture  of  a  question  mark  after 
these  words  of  Falstaff 's  is  to  be  rejected  in  favor  of  the  period  used 
in  Ff  and  Qq.  It  is  characteristic  of  Falstaff's  wit  that  when  a 
statement  of  his  is  questioned  he  qualifies  his  first  remark  and 
shifts  to  a  new  position.  Examples  of  such  qualifying  additions 
behind  which  Falstaff  makes  a  new  stand  are  found  in  "  O' 
horseback  "  (ii.  4.  387)  and  "  if  he  said  my  ring  was  copper  "  (iii. 
3.  162). 

230.  hilts.  Properly  the  hilt  or  hand-guard  of  a  sword,  but 
often  used  for  the  sword  itself,  as  in  Jonson's  The  Case  is  Altered, 
ii.  7  :  "  Fetch  the  hilts ;  fellow  Jumper,  wilt  thou  play  ?  " 

234.  mark.  The  word  is  probably  used  in  the  double  sense  of 
(1)  pay  heed  to,  (2)  keep  count:  "  I  keep  count  of  the  number  of 
your  men  in  buckram." 

238.  points.  The  word  has  the  double  meaning  of  (1)  sword- 
points,  (2)  tagged  laces,  used  for  suspending  the  breeches. 

243-244.  eleven  buckram  men  grown  out  of  two!  Professor 
Bradley,  in  an  article  on  "  The  Rejection  of  Falstaff,"  contributed 
to  the  Fortnightly  Review  for  May,  1902,  makes  the  following  sug- 
gestive comment  on  Falstaff's  story  of  the  men  in  buckram :  "  Again, 
the  attack  of  the  prince  and  Poins  on  Falstaff  and  the  other  thieves 
at  Gadshill  is  contrived,  we  know,  with  a  view  to  the  incomprehen- 
sible lies  it  will  induce  him  to  tell.  But  when,  more  than  rising  tc 
the  occasion,  he  turns  two  men  in  buckram  into  four,  then  into  seven, 
and  then  nine,  and  then  eleven,  almost  in  a  breath,  I  believe  they 
partly  misunderstand  his  intention,  and  the  great  majority  of  his 
critics  misunderstand  it  altogether.  Shakespeare  was  not  writing 
a  mere  farce.  It  is  preposterous  to  suppose  that  a  man  of  Falstaff's 
intelligence  would  utter  these  gross,  palpable,  open  lies  with  the 
serious  intention  to  deceive,  or  to  forget  that,  if  it  was  too  dark  for 
him  to  see  his  own  hand,  he  could  hardly  see  that  the  three  mis- 
begotten knaves  were  wearing  Kendal  green.  No  doubt,  if  he  had 
been  believed,  he  would  have  been  hugely  tickled  at  it,  but  he  no 
more  expected  to  be  believed  than  when  he  claimed  to  have  killed 
lotspur." 

246    Kendal  green.    Suits  of  green  cloth  made  at  Kendal,  in 


l.->4  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

Westmoreland,  wort'  worn  by  foresters.  There  is  a  reference  to 
these  suits  of  Kcndal  green  in  the  Robin  Hood  ballads. 

261  252.  knotty-pated.  This  is  probably  another  form  of  the 
not- pitted  in  1.  78. 

252  253.  tallow-ketch,  Iwirrel  of  fat.  This  is  Hanmer's  emenda- 
tion for  the  tallou^-calch  of  the  early  editions. 

262.  strappado.  A  Sjmnish  method  of  torture  which  Randle 
Holmes,  in  his  Academy  of  Arms  and  lilazons,  describes  as  follows: 
"  The  strappado  is  when  the  jx-rson  is  drawn  up  to  his  height,  and 
then  suddenly  to  let  him  fall  half-way  with  a  jerk,  which  not  only 
breaketh  his  arms  to  pieces,  but  also  shaketh  all  his  joints  out  of 
joint ;  which  punishment  is  better  to  be  hanged,  than  for  a  man 
to  undergo." 

264  265.  reasons  .  .  .  blackberries.  There  is  a  pun  here  on 
reason  and  raisin. 

268.  sanguine.  The  word  is  probably  used  in  its  literal  sense  of 
red,  red-faced. 

bed-presser.  We  are  introduced  to  Falstaff  (i.  2.  1-13)  with 
Hal's  charge  that  he  wastes  his  time  in  "  sleeping  upon  benches 
after  noon." 

270.  elf-skin.     This  is  the  reading  of  the  early  editions,   for 
which  Hanmer  proposed  to  substitute  eel-skin,  which  is  actually 
used  by  Falstaff  in  describing  Shallow  in  Part  II,  iii.  2.  350 :  "  You 
might  have  thrust  him  and  all  his  apparel  into  an  eel-skin."     But 
elf-skin  is  not  impossible,  for  in   A   ^fidsllmmer    Eight's  Dream 
Shakespeare,  as  Clarke  points  out,  represents  his  elves  as  dressed 
in  the  cast-off  skins  of  snakes : 

"  And  there  the  snake  throws  her  enamell'd  skin. 
Weed  wide  enough  to  wrap  a  fairy  in  "  (ii.  1.  255-250). 

271.  neat's  tongue,  ox-tongue. 

272.  O  for  breath  .  .  .  thee!     Falstaff 's  shortage  of  breath  is  a 
realistic  touch  that  is  referred  to  more  than  once.      Cf.  ii.  2.  13—14, 
2  Henry  IV,  i.  2.  206,  ii.  2.  136,  and  Merry  Wires,  iv.  5.  104-105. 

273.  tailor's-yard.     Yard  means  literally  "  stick."     A  stick  of  a 
certain  length  came  to  be  known  as  a  "  yard-measure."      The  tailor's 
yard  is  the  tailor's  stick  for  measuring. 

274.  standing-tuck,  rapier  standing  on  end. 
283.   out-faced,  frightened. 

288.   slave,  base  and  cowardly  person. 

hack  thy  sword.  The  cowardly  Purolles  (AlTs  Well,  iv.  1.  50-52) 
considered  resorting  to  Falstaff's  device  to  gain  by  it  a  reputation  for 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  155 

valor :  "I  would  the  cutting  of  my  garments  would  serve  the  turn, 
or  the  breaking  of  my  Spanish  sword." 

290.  starting-hole,  way  of  escape.  The  literal  reference  is  to  the 
holes  into  which  a  rabbit  runs  to  escape  its  pursuer. 

299.  beware,  pay  heed  to,  respect. 

300.  the  lion  .  .  .  prince.     "  This  belief,  current  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  was  the  basis  of  a  recurring  motif  in  the  early  English  Ro- 
mances "  (Herford). 

305.  clap  to,  shut. 

306.  watch  to-night,  pray  to-morrow.     An  allusion  to  the  scrip- 
tural injunction,  "  watch  and  pray  "  (St.  Matthew,  xxvii.  41). 

317-321.  a  nobleman  ...  a  royal  man.  A  pun  is  intended 
by  reference  to  the  two  corns :  a  noble  ==  6*.,  8d.  a  royal  =  10s. 

328.  packing,  hurrying  off. 

340-341.  tickle  our  noses  .  .  .  bleed.  In  the  Famous  Victories 
of  Henry  V  we  read :  "  Every  day  when  I  went  into  the  field,  I 
would  take  a  straw  and  thrust  it  into  my  nose,  and  make  my  nose 
bleed." 

343.  true  men,  the  honest  men  with  whom  they  —  the  thieves  — 
had  been  fighting. 

346-347.   taken  with  the  manner,  caught  in  the  act. 

348.  fire.     The  reference  is  to  Bardolph's  red  nose. 

351-352.  meteors  and  exhalations.  By  these  are  meant  the 
carbuncles  and  eruptions  on  Bardolph's  face. 

355.  Hot  livers  and  cold  purses,  drunkenness  and  poverty. 

356-357.  Choler  .  .  .  halter.  There  is  a  double  pun  here  — 
a  play  on  the  words  choler  and  collar,  and  on  the  double  meaning  of 
rightly  taken  =  (1)  rightly  understood,  (2)  well  captured. 

359.   bombast,  unprepared  cotton  used  for  stuffing  quilts,  etc. 

364-365.  alderman's  thumb-ring.  It  was  the  custom  for  alder- 
men and  persons  of  dignity  generally  to  wear  a  plain  gold  ring  on 
the  thumb.  Cf.  Glapthorne's  Wit  in  a  Constable,  1639:  "An 
alderman  —  I  may  say  to  you,  he  has  no  more  wit  than  the  rest 
of  the  bench,  and  that  lies  in  his  thumb-ring." 

366-367.  There's  villanous  news  abroad.  Amid  the  Eastcheap 
revelry  Shakespeare  does  not  let  us  forget  the  progress  of  the  serious 
plot.  What  in  Act  ii,  scene  2  was  a  secret  conspiracy  is  now  open 
rebellion.  Tidings  of  the  Percy  rising  have  reached  the  court,  and 
the  king,  if  Falstaff  is  to  be  believed,  is  in  terror.  The  prince 
receives  the  news  with  his  usual  calm.  The  thought  of  coming 
battle  is  not  allowed  to  restrain  even  for  a  moment  the  mirthfulness 
of  the  hour.  From  the  story  of  the  robbery  we  glide  easily  into  that 


156  KI\(;   HENRY  THE   FOl'KTH     [ACT  Two 

delightful  scene  of  personation  in  which  Falstaff  stands  for  the  king 
and  then  for  the  prince. 

367.   Sir  John  Bracy,  apparently  a  fictitious  person. 

370.  that  gave  Amamon  the  bastinado,  that  cudgelled  Amamon. 
Amamon,  or  Amaimon,  is  the  name  of  a  fiend  to  whom  reference  is 
also  made  in  Merry  Wire*,  ii.  2.  311:  "Amaimon  sounds  well, 
Lucifer  well ;  yet  are  they  devils'  additions,  the  names  of  fiends." 
FalstafTs  references  to  Glendower's  sorcery  and  mystery-monger- 
ing  are  delightful. 

372  373.  a  Welsh  hook.  Whalley  says  in  his  Remains:  "The 
Welsh  hook,  I  believe,  was  jM>inted  like  a  spear,  to  push  or  thrust 
with,  and  below  had  a  hook  to  seize  the  enemy  if  he  should  attempt 
to  escape  by  flight."  As  Cowl  and  Morgan  explain,  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  swear  by  the  cross  of  the  sword,  but  here  Kalstaff 
humorously  makes  the  Welshman  (Jlendower  swear  the  devil 
upon  "  the  cross  "  of  a  weapon  which  is  not  in  the  .shape  of  a 
cross. 

380.  pistol.  Dr.  Johnson  points  out  an  anachronism  here. 
The  use  of  the  pistol  was  not  known  in  England  in  the  time  of 
Henry  IV. 

392.  blue-caps.  The  reference  is  to  the  blue  bonnets  of  the 
Scotsmen. 

416.   state,  chair  of  state. 

418.  taken  for  a  joined-stool.    This  is  a  mocking  reference  to 
Falstaff 's  "  state."     Cf.   King  Lear,  iii.  6.  54,  "  Cry  you  mercy,  I 
took  you  for  a  joint-stool." 

419.  leaden  dagger,  a  dagger  that  does  not  wound  (i.e.  Falstaff's). 
Cf.  Lores  Labours  Lost,  v.  *.  480-481 : 

"  there's  an  eye 
Wounds  like  a  leaden  sword." 

425-426.  King  Cambyses'  vein.  The  reference  is  in  all  prob- 
ability to  an  early  Elizabethan  tragedy,  entitled  "  A  Lamen- 
table Tragedy  mixed  full  of  Pleasant  Mirth  containing  the  Life 
of  Cambises,  King  of  Persia."  The  author  of  the  play  was 
Thomas  Preston,  and  it  is  thought  to  have  been  first  acted  about 
1561.  A  reprint  of  the  play  is  found  in  the  fourth  volume  of 
Dodsley's  Old  Plays. 

427.  here  is  my  leg,  I  make  my  lx>w.  References  to  the  leg,  t.«. 
to  a  bow  made  by  throwing  out  the  leg,  are  very  frequent  in  the  playa 
of  Shakespeare  and  his  contemporaries. 

431.    Weep   not,   sweet  queen;  .  .  .   vain.    This   is   Falstaff's 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  157 

representation  of  the  "  Cambyses'  vein."  In  a  marginal  note  to 
that  play  we  read  :  "At  this  tale  tolde,  let  the  queen  weep." 

trickling  tears ;  an  alliterative  phrase  of  older  plays  ridiculed  by 
Shakespeare.  Cf.  Agamemnon  (Studley's  translation,  1566,  Ma- 
terialien  ed.,  xxxviii,  p.  118) :  "  From  vapourd  eyes  of  yonge  and 
old  the  trytlyng  tears  do  fall." 

432.   O,  the  father.    A  profane  exclamation. 

how  he  holds  his  countenance,  how  he  maintains  his  dignity. 
Falstaff  knew  the  value  of  "  a  jest  with  a  sad  brow  "  (2  Henry  IV, 
v.  1.  93). 

434.  tristful,  sad. 

435.  For  tears  .  .  .  eyes.     Cf .  Cambyses :  "  These  words  to  hear 
make  stilling  teares  issue  from  chrystall  eyes." 

437.  harlotry,  good-for-nothing. 

438-439.  tickle-brain.  This  was  the  name  of  a  kind  of  spirituous 
liquor.  Falstaff  is,  of  course,  addressing  the  hostess. 

440.  spendest  thy  time.  The  Puritan  moralist  of  Shakespeare's 
day  was  continually  inveighing  against  the  waste  of  precious  time. 
Falstaff  here  as  elsewhere,  in  ridicule  of  Puritan  preciseness,  delivers 
this  speech  with  "  a  sad  brow." 

440-441.  how  .  .  .  accompanied.  Evil  company  —  pitch  that 
defiled  —  was  a  frequent  theme  for  Puritan  invective. 

441-443.  for  though  the  camomile  .  .  .  wears.  This  is  the 
first  of  several  parodies  of  the  style  of  Lyly's  Euphues  which  occur 
in  this  scene,  and  are  placed  on  the  lips  of  Falstaff  and  the  prince. 
The  most  characteristic  feature  of  euphuism  is  its  use  of  similes 
,  drawn  from  a  more  or  less  fanciful  natural  history.  Of  the  camomile 
Lyly  tells  us ;  "  Though  the  camomile,  the  more  it  is  trodden  and 
pressed  down,  the  more  it  spreadeth ;  yet  the  violet,  the  oftener  it  is 
touched  and  handled,  the  sooner  it  withereth  and  decayeth."  But 
it  is  not  only  in  the  allusions  to  natural  history  that  euphuism  is 
ridiculed  in  this  speech  of  Falstaff's.  A  little  later  in  the  same  speech 
we  meet  with  a  number  of  rhetorical  questions,  and  we  come  upon 
them  again  at  the  close  of  the  prince's  speech  (11.  501-505).  Rhe- 
torical questions  of  this  sort  are  as  frequent  in  Euphues  as  fanciful 
allusions  to  natural  history.  Thus  we  read  in  the  first  part  of  that 
work :  "  If  thou  diddest  determine  with  thy  selfe  to  be  false,  why 
diddest  thou  sweare  to  be  true  ?  If  to  be  true,  why  art  thou  false  ? 
If  thou  wast  minded  both  falsely  and  forgedly  to  deceive  me,  why 
didst  thou  flatter  and  dissemble  with  me  at  the  first?  If  to  love 
me,  why  dost  thou  flinch  at  the  last?  "  It  will  be  observed  that  in 
addition  to  the  rhetoric  questioning  there  is  an  antithetical  structure 


158  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

in  these  sentences,  and  this  again  is  imitated  by  the  prinee  in  the 
passage  referred  to  above.  But  a  more  striking  instance  of  euphu- 
istic  antithesis,  the  antithetical  words  being  also  alliterative,  is 
furnished  in  Kalstaff' s  speech :  "  I  do  not  speak  to  thee  in  drink, 
but  in  tears,"  etc.,  with  which  may  be  compared  the  following 
passage  from  Euphues :  "  As  Lucilla  was  caughte  by  fraude,  so 
shall  she  be  kept  by  force,  and  as  thou  wast  too  simple  to  espye 
my  crafte,  so  I  thinke  thou  wilt  be  too  weak  to  withstande  my 
courage." 

460.  micher,  truant. 

466-456.  this  pitch  .  .  .  doth  defile.  In  Euphues  we  read: 
"  Hee  that  toucheth  pitch  shall  bee  defiled."  The  saying  was  a 
proverbial  one,  and  occurs  in  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calendar  (May), 
under  the  form :  "  Who  toucheth  pitch  mought  needes  be  defilde." 
Its  original  is  to  be  found  in  Ecclesiasticus,  xiii.  1,  "  He  that  toucheth 
pitch  shall  be  defiled  therewith." 

467-469.  speak  to  thee  .  .  .  woes  also.  This  is  ridicule  of  puri- 
tan attitude  of  mind  when  administering  reproof  to  men  of  evil  lives. 
Cf.  Stubbes  (Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  31) :  "  With  grief  of  conscience 
I  speake  it,  with  sorrow  I  see  it,  and  with  teares  I  lament  " ;  and 
Northbrooke  (Treatise  Against  Dicing,  p.  94):  "I  speake  (alas! 
with  griefe  and  sorrowe  of  heart)  against  those  people  that  are  so 
fleshlye  led.  .  .  ." 

470.  Virtue  in  his  looks.  Cf.  Bonn's  Foreign  Proverbs  (p.  17) : 
"  There's  virtue  in  a  man's  face." 

470-472.  //  then  the  tree  .  .  .  tree.  A  frequently  occurring  al- 
lusion to  Matthew,  xii.  33,  in  puritan  writings ;  also  Rent,  of  J, 
Lotithe  (Camden  Society,  No.  77) :  "  both  were  starke  nought, 
as  an}'  man  by  that  wych  followyth  may  judge,  si  homo  ex 
fructibut" 

480.  rabbit-sucker,  a  suckling  rabbit.  In  Beaumont  and  Flet- 
cher's Philasler,  v.  4.  36,  we  read :  "  1  could  hulk  [disembowel]  your 
grace,  and  hang  you  up  cross-legg'd,  Like  a  hare  at  a  poulter's." 

poulter,  poulterer. 

489.  /  'II  tickle  .  .  .  prince,  I'll  play  the  part  of  the  young  prince 
to  your  cost. 

490.  ungracious,  graceless. 

494.  companion,  used  in  Shakespeare  and  elsewhere  at  this  time 
in  a  bad  sense. 

496.  bolting-hutch,    trough;     literally,   according   to   Steevens, 
the  wooden  receptacle  into  which  the  miller  "  bolted  "  his  meal. 

497.  bombard,  properly  a  machine  for  hurling  blocks  of  stone 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  159 

in  the  bombardment  of  a  castle,  etc.  A  secondary  meaning, 
which  is  the  one  required  here,  was  that  of  a  large  leather  drinking- 
vessel. 

498.  Manningtree  ox.  The  oxen  which  fed  on  the  rich  pasture- 
iand  at  Manningtree,  in  Essex,  were  famous  for  their  size.  Man- 
ningtree was  also  famous  for  its  fairs,  at  which,  in  addition  to  the 
roasting  of  oxen,  stage-plays  were  performed  that  are  said  to  have 
retained  many  of  the  allegorical  characters  of  the  Morality  plays, 
including  Vice,  Iniquity,  Ruffian,  and  Vanity  mentioned  in  the  next 
sentence. 

503.  cunning,  skillful. 

506-507.   take  me  with  you,  explain  your  meaning  to  me. 

508-509.  misleader  of  youth.  Cf.  "  An  old  lord  of  the  council 
rated  me  the  other  day  in  the  street  about  you,  sir  "  (i.  2.  94-95). 

512-513.  But  to  say  I  know  .  .  .  know.  This  is  Falstaff's 
"  tickling  him  for  a  young  prince  "  ;  in  effect,  Falstaff  here  charges 
Hal  with  being  no  better  than  himself. 

515-516.  saving  .  .  .  whoremaster.  In  apologizing  for  the  use 
here  of  an  indelicate  word,  Falstaff  is  ridiculing  the  stricter  moralists 
of  the  day  who  strove  to  avoid  offense  in  thought,  word,  or  deed. 

516.  utterly  deny.  Cf.  William  Prynne,  Histriomastix,  p.  151 : 
"  but  that .  .  .  faithful  Christians  .  .  .  doe  frequently  resort  to  play- 
houses, I  utterly  deny." 

524.   therefore,  for  that  very  reason. 

625.  banish  not  him.  Both  in  the  part  of  king  and  in  that  of  Hal, 
Falstaff  defends  himself.  If  he  expects  Hal  to  remember  this 
defense  at  his  meeting  with  his  father,  he  is  to  be  disappointed. 

534-535.  Heigh,  heigh!  .  .  .  matter?  The  first  three  Quartos 
give  this  speech  to  Prince  Henry ;  the  later  Quartos  and  the  Folios 
ascribe  it  to  Falstaff.  This  expression,  reflecting  the  Puritans' 
hostility  to  dancing  and  fiddles,  is  more  appropriate  to  Falstaff,  in 
whose  mouth  we  find  so  many  echoes  of  the  Puritans'  language. 
Prynne,  Histriomastix,  p.  279,  "  comparing  a  Fidler  that  plays,  to 
a  Devil." 

639-540.  never  call  ...  a  counterfeit.  Falstaff's  thoughts  are 
still  running  in  the  direction  of  his  self-defense,  and  he  refuses  to 
countenance  the  interruption  caused  by  the  approach  of  the  sheriff 
and  his  watch.  He  says :  "  In  your  judgment  of  my  character, 
you  accuse  me  of  being  a  counterfeit,  of  only  seeming  to  be  genuine. 
With  you  it  is  different :  you  are  really  mad  without  seeming  so  at 
all.  At  least  I  seem  to  be  what  I  am,  and  therein  am  truer  than 
you."  Cf.  Measure  for  Measure,  iii.  2.  40-41 ; 


100  KINT.    HENRY   THE    FOIRTH     [Act  THHEB 

"  That  we  were  nil,  as  sonic  would  seem  to  be, 
Fnini  our  faults,  as  faults  from  seeming,  free!  " 

641.  mad.  This  i.s  the  reading  of  the  F  3  and  F  4  only ;  all  other 
early  editions  read  made. 

644.  major,  major  premise,  viz.  that  FaUtaff  is  a  coward.  A 
pun  on  the  two  meanings  of  major  i.s  intended. 

646.   so,  very  good. 

646-646.  if  I  become  not  a  cart,  if  I  do  not  adorn  a  hangman's 
cart.  Falstaff's  meaning  is  that  he  would  make  a  speech  of  repent- 
ance to  the  crowd  about  to  witness  his  execution,  and  urge  them 
to  profit  by  the  example  of  his  ill  living.  The  "  good  end  "  that 
Falstaff  made  in  his  bed,  as  reported  by  Dame  Quickly  \nllenry  V, 
is  evidence  that  his  "  bringing  up  "  would  not  liave  suffered  had  he 
come  to  the  gallows. 

649.  arras,  tapestry,  originally  made  at  Arras,  in  Picardy.  The 
Elizabethan  stage  was  partly  hung  with  arras,  and  the  part  it  piays 
in  Hamlet's  slaughter  of  Polonius  is  familiar  to  every  reader. 

662-663.    their  date  is  out,  their  period  of  existence  is  over. 

666.  hue  and  cry,  "  the  pursuit  of  a  felon  by  horn  and  voice,  a 
process  then  recognized  in  common  law  "  (Herford). 

661-662.  The  man  .  .  .  employ'd  him.  "  Even-  reader  must 
regret  that  Shakespeare  would  not  give  himself  the  trouble  to  furnish 
Prince  Henry  with  some  more  pardonable  excuse  without  obliging 
him  to  have  recourse  to  an  absolute  falsehood,  and  that,  too,  uttered 
under  the  sanction  of  so  strong  an  assurance  "  (Steevens). 

669.   three  hundred  marks,  approximately  $1000. 

673.  good  morrow,  good  morning. 

576.   Paul's,  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 

677.  Falstaff!  —  etc.  Dr.  Johnson  proposed  to  transfer  to 
Poins  this  and  the  following  sp«ieches  ascribed  to  Peto  in  the  old 
editions  on  the  ground  that  Poins.  and  not  Peto,  is  the  prince's 
comrade,  and  that  there  was  no  reason  for  Poins  to  run  away. 
Malone  agrees  with  Johnson.  But  it  must  lx-  noted  that  the  name 
Peto  occurs  not  only  to  indicate  the  speaker  of  these  words,  but  also 
in  the  text  itself  in  line  G01.  It  is  hardly  likely  that  a  printers 
error  could  have  reached  so  far. 

590.   ob.,  obolus.  a  half-penny. 

594.  at  more  advantage,  at  a  more  suitable  time. 

598    twelve-score,  twelve  score  yards. 

599.  advantage,  interest.  Cf.  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  i.  3. 
70-71  : 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  161 

"  Methought  you  said  you  neither  lend  nor  borrow 
Upon  advantage." 

In  iii.  3.  200  the  prince  informs  Falstaff  that  "  the  money  is  paid 
back  again." 

ACT  III  — SCENE  1 

With  the  opening  of  the  third  act  we  pass  from  London  to  the 
provinces.  The  rebellion,  the  outbreak  of  which  we  have  already 
witnessed,  has  now  spread ;  an  alliance  has  been  formed  between  the 
Percies,  Mortimer,  and  Glendower,  and  this  meeting  at  Bangor  has 
been  summoned  for  the  purpose  of  dividing  the  kingdom  of  England 
between  them  after  they  shall  have  met  and  overcome  the  king. 
Up  to  this  point  Shakespeare  has  probably  enlisted  our  sympathies 
on  the  side  of  the  rebels ;  we  have  felt  that  their  grievances  are  real, 
and  that  the  king's  bearing  toward  them  has  been  tyrannical. 
But  their  plans  for  the  partition  of  England,  whereby  the  integrity 
of  the  nation  is  to  be  wholly  destroyed,  bring  us  back  to  the  side  of 
the  king.  We  feel,  too,  the  madness  of  this  plan  of  division,  and 
are  at  the  same  time  made  aware  of  the  ill-success  that  must  result 
from  the  union  of  these  three  allies.  All  the  patience  of  Mortimer 
is  needed  to  prevent  Hotspur  —  who  has  not  that  great  gift  of 
leadership  which  enables  a  man  to  endure  fools  gladly  —  from 
quarreling  with  Glendower.  Glendower's  superstitious  self- 
esteem  and  Hotspur's  masterfulness  act  and  react  upon  each  other 
with  ill-boding  results.  The  politic  Worcester  endeavors  to  school 
Hotspur  into  good  behavior  and  a  sense  of  respect  for  his  associates, 
but  the  lesson  is  not  taken  deeply  to  heart.  The  amorous  toying 
of  Mortimer  and  his  Welsh  wife  rouses  him  to  amused  contempt,  and 
the  scene  ends  with  another  delightful  peep  into  the  marital  relations 
of  Hotspur  and  Lady  Percy  which  is  in  exact  keeping  with  what  has 
gone  before.  It  is  a  Benedick  and  Beatrice  scene  after  marriage. 

Shakespeare's  magic  art  in  breathing  life  into  the  dry  bones  of 
Holinshed  is  nowhere  better  displayed  than  in  this  scene,  which  is 
evolved  out  of  the  following  brief  passage  in  the  Chronicle:  "  Heere- 
with,  they  by  their  deputies  in  the  house  of  the  archdeacon  of 
Bangor,  divided  the  realme  amongst  them,  causing  a  tripartite 
indenture  to  be  made  and  sealed  with  their  scales,  by  the  covenants 
whereof,  all  England  from  Severne  and  Trent,  south  and  eastward, 
was  assigned  to  the  earle  of  March :  all  Wales  and  the  lands  beyond 
Severne  westward,  were  appointed  to  Owen  Glendouer :  and  all  the 
remnant  from  Trent  northward  to  the  lord  Persie. 


16*  KIM!    HENRY    THE    FOt'RTH    [AIT  TIIRKE 

"  This  was  done  (as  some  have  said)  through  a  foolish  credit 
given  to  a  vaine  prophesie,  as  though  King  Henrie  was  the  mold- 
warpe,  cu  rased  of  Gods  owne  mouth,  and  they  thnt-  were  the  dragon, 
the  lion,  and  the  woolfe,  which  should  divide  this  realme  betweene 
them.  Such  is  the  deviation  (saith  Hall)  and  not  the  divination  of 
those  blind  and  fantastical!  dreames  of  the  Welsh  prophesiere." 

In  regard  to  historic  fact  it  may  be  mentioned  that  Shakespeare 
and  Holinshed  are  wrong  in  representing  this  "  tripartite  conven- 
tion "  as  having  been  held  before  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury.  In 
reality  it  took  place  nearly  three  years  later,  the  division  of  the  land 
being  made  between  Glendower,  Mortimer,  and  Northumberland. 
See  Wylie's  History  of  England  under  Henry  II',  vol.  ii,  chap.  60. 
It  will  be  noticed  also  that  whereas  Holinshed  represents  this  tri- 
partite division  as  carried  into  effect  by  deputies,  Shakespeare  brings 
the  leaders  themselves  to  Bangor,  and  thus  enriches  the  bald  story 
with  highly  dramatic  incident. 

2.   our  induction,  the  inauguration  of  our  enterprise. 

8.  For.  The  force  of  for  may  be  expanded  into  something  like 
this :  "  I  call  you  Hotspur  and  not  Percy,  because  .  .  ." 

13-17.  at  my  nativity  .  .  .  Shaked  like  a  coward.  This  is 
Shakespeare's  expansion  of  the  following  words  of  Holinshed : 
"  Strange  wonders  happened  at  the  nativity  of  this  man,  for  the 
same  night  he  was  born,  all  his  father's  horses  in  the  stable  were 
found  to  stand  in  blood  up  to  their  bellies." 

15.  cressets,  open  lamps  placed  upon  poles ;   they  were  used  in 
the  theatres. 

16.  huge.     The  adjective  is  found  only  in  Q  1 . 

18-20.  Pope  proposed  to  read  this  speech  of  Hotspur's  as  verse, 
making  the  verses  end  at  done,  cat,  and  born.  A  verse-setting  is 
also  possible  in  the  case  of  other  speeches  of  Hotspur,  but  we  have 
preferred  to  abide  by  the  prose  diction  of  the  Qq  and  Ff.  The 
sudden  transitions  of  Hotspur  in  this  scene  from  verse  to  prose  and 
prose  to  verse  are  not  without  dramatic  value. 

23.   as  fearing  you,  because  it  was  afraid  of  you. 

31.  enlargement,  liberty. 

32.  beldam  earth,  grandmother  earth ;  cf .  grandam  earth  in  1.  34. 

34.  distemper ature,  disorder. 

35.  passion,  grief  of  the  body,  pain. 

41.  mark'd  me  extraordinary,  singled  me  out  as  an  extraordinary 
being. 

44.   clipp'd  in  with  the  sea,  living  within  this  island. 
46.   chides,  chafes  against. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  163 

46.   read  to  me,  instructed  me. 

48-49.  Can  trace  .  .  .  experiments,  who  can  follow  me  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  toilsome  paths  of  magic  art,  or  keep  pace  with  me  in  the 
researches  of  alchemy. 

53.   vasty.     Cf.  "  the  vasty  fields  of  France  "j(  Henry  V,  Prol.  IS). 

69.  tell  truth  .  .  .  devil.     This  is  a  proverbial  saying  which  finds 
a  place  in  Ray's  Proverbs  under  the  form,  "  Speak  the  truth  and 
shame  the  devil." 

64-65.  Three  times.  .  .my  power.  Here  at  any  rate  Glendower 
tells  the  truth.  The  first  occasion  was  in  1400,  when  the  king 
waged  war  in  person  with  Glendower,  who,  withdrawing  to  the 
mountains  of  the  Snowdon  district,  escaped  capture.  In  the  fol- 
lowing year  war  broke  out  again,  and  resulted  in  the  victory  of 
Glendower  over  the  Lord  Grey  of  Ruthen,  who  was  captured.  The 
third  occasion  was  in  1402,  when,  after  the  Earl  of  March  had  been 
taken  prisoner  by  Glendower,  the  king  himself  again  entered  Wales, 
but  again,  as  Holinshed  says,  "  lost  his  labour."  The  word  weather- 
beaten  probably  refers  to  the  storms  which  King  Henry  encountered 
on  this  last  expedition,  and  of  which  Holinshed  writes  as  follows : 
"  Owen  conveied  himselfe  out  of  the  waie,  and  (as  was  thought) 
through  art  magike,  he  caused  such  foule  weather  of  winds,  tempest, 
raine,  snow  and  haile  to  be  raised,  for  the  annoiance  of  the  kings 
armie,  that  the  like  had  not  been  heard  of." 

70.  right,  rightful  possessions. 

71.  threefold  order.     The  reference  is  to  what  Holinshed  calls 
the  "  tripartite  indenture,"  Hall,  the  "  tripartie  endenture,"  and 
Shakespeare,  the  "  indentures  tripartite,"  in  1.  80. 

72.  The  archdeacon  hath  .  .  .    Daniel  tells  the  story  of  the 
tripartite  division  of  England  very  succinctly  in  the  History  of  the 
Civil  Wars,  iv.  23 : 

"  With  these  the  Piercies  them  confederate, 
And  as  three  heads  conjoin  in  one  intent ; 
And  instituting  a  triumvirate, 
Do  part  the  land  in  triple  government ; 
Dividing  thus  among  themselves  the  state : 
The  Piercies  should  rule  all  the  north  from  Trent ; 
And  Glendour,  Wales  :  the  Earl  of  March  should  be 
Lord  of  the  South,  from  Trent  —  and  so  they  'gree." 

74.   hitherto,  up  to  this  point.     Mortimer's  finger  is  on  the  map. 

80.  drawn,  drawn  up. 

81.  sealed  interchangeably.    The  meaning  is   that    there    are 


164  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  THREE 

three  copies  of  the  agreement,  each  of  whieh  will  l>car  the  signatures 
of  the  three  men. 

89.  you  may  have  drawn  together,  you  have  the  opportunity  of 
assembling. 

96.    moiety,  share;  literally  a  half-share  (Latin  medinx,  mrdietas). 

98.  comes  me  cranking  in,  In-nds  in  tij>on  my  share  of  the  land. 
The  river  is  the  Trent,  which,  after  flowing  as  far  as  Burton  in  a 
southeast  direction,  then  turns  northeast  toward  the  Humhcr. 
The  "  huge  half-moon  "  would  accordingly  be  formed  of  Lincoln- 
shire and  a  part  of  Nottinghamshire. 

100.   cantle,  slice,  share. 

102.   smug,  smooth. 

104.  indent,  indentation. 

105.  bottom,  valley  bottom. 

108-109.  runs  me  up  .  .  .  side,  flows  in  a  southerly  direction  on 
the  other  side  (i.e.  before  reaching  Burton),  to  your  advantage  and 
my  disadvantage. 

110.  Gelding  the  opposed  continent,  cutting  off  from  the  country 
south  of  the  Trent. 

112.    charge,  expense  (in  constructing  dams). 

114.  And  then  .  .  .  even.  The  verse  is  imperfect.  The  follow- 
ing seems  the  best  emendation,  "  And  then  he  runneth  straight  and 
evenly."  The  words  "  fair  and  evenly  "  occur  in  I.  103. 

122.  For  I  am  train'd  .  .  .  court.  Holinshed  writes  of  Glen- 
dower's  upbringing:  "  He  was  first  set  to  studie  the  lawes  of  the 
realme  and  became  an  utter  [outer,  external]  barrister,  or  an  appren- 
tice of  the  law  (as  they  terme  him),  and  served  King  Richard  at 
Flint  castell,  where  he  was  taken  by  Henrie  duke  of  Lancaster." 
It  would  seem  as  though  Shakespeare,  in  deference  to  the  Welsh 
devotion  to  the  harp,  altered  Glendower's  legal  studies  to  studies 
in  music. 

126.  And  gave  the  tongue  .  .  .  ornament.  Some  editors  liave 
paraphrased  tongue  as  "  the  English  language";  but  the  meaning, 
"  furnished  the  songs  with  a  graceful  musical  accompaniment," 
seems  in  close  k«-eping  with  the  words,  "  I  framed  to  the  harp  many 
an  English  ditty." 

130.  metre    ballad-mongers,    ballad-singing    rhymesters.     Had 
Shakespeare  in  mind  the  Act  of  1597  which  classed  minstrels  as 
vagabonds  ? 

131.  a  brazen  canstick  turn'd,  a  brazen  candlestick  in  the  turning- 
lathe. 

133.   nothing,  not  at  all. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  165 

134.  mincing,  walking  with  affected,  unnatural  steps.  Hotspur's 
contempt  for  the  fine  arts  is  Shakespeare's  own  idea.  Brandes, 
speaking  of  Shakespeare's  love  of  music,  and  of  the  characters  which 
are  represented  as  lovers  of  music,  bids  us  also  "  note  the  characters 
whom  Shakespeare  makes  specially  unmusical :  Shylock,  who 
loathes  '  the  vile  squeaking  of  the  wry-necked  fife  ' ;  then  Hotspur, 
the  hero-barbarian;  Benedick,  the  would-be  woman-hater;  Cas- 
sius,  the  fanatic  politician ;  Othello,  the  half-civilized  African ;  and, 
finally,  creatures  like  Caliban,  who  are  nevertheless  enthralled  by 
music  as  though  by  a  wizard's  spell  "  (G.  Brandes'  William  Shake- 
speare, chap.  xxi). 

136.  Come,  you  shall  have  Trent  turn'd.  Glendower  yields  at 
last  from  pure  exhaustion.  The  question  of  having  Trent  turned 
is  no  longer  under  discussion,  and  Hotspur,  as  we  learn  from  his  next 
words,  cares  no  longer  about  it.  But  the  masterful  "  crossings  " 
of  Hotspur  have  broken  the  Welshman's  spirit,  and  so,  to  secure  a 
moment's  peace,  he  yields  the  point  which  he  fancies  Hotspur  has 
deeply  at.  heart. 

143.  the  writer,  the  notary  or  clerk  who   was  to  draw  up  the 
indentures. 

144.  Break  ivith,  inform. 

149.  the  moldwarp,  the  earth-thrower,  the  mole.     See  the  quota- 
tion from  Holinshed  given  above. 

150.  Merlin.     Shakespeare  seems  to  have  regarded  the  Arthurian 
legends,  and  more  especially  the  miraculous  powers  of  Merlin,  with 
scepticism. 

152.  moulten,    past   participle    of    "  moult."     Pope   suggested 
moulting. 

153.  couching,    lying    down,    couchant;    ramping,    rearing   or 
rampant.     Both  are  heraldic  terms. 

154.  skimble-skamble  stuff,  wishy-washy  nonsense.    The  exact 
meaning  of  skimble-skamble  is  "  disconnected,"  scamble  being  a 
secondary  form  of  the  verb  scramble. 

155.  puts  me  from  my  faith,  makes  me  incredulous. 

158.    "  hum  "  ..."  go  to  "  ;  exclamations  of  impatience. 
157-158.   the  several .  .  .  lackeys.    Falstaff  has  already  referred 
to  Glendower's  dealings  with  the  spirit  Amamon.     See  ii.  4. 

162.  windmill.     Even  such  a  noisy  place  as  a  windmill  would  be 
preferable  to  a  summer-house  with  Glendower  present. 

163.  cafes,  delicacies.     See  Glossary. 

164.  summer-house.     The  building  of  summer-houses  or  garden- 
houses  a  little  way  out  of  London  wras  a  common  practice  with 


166  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [ACT  THREE 

persons  of  UK-JIM-  in  Elizabethan  times.  It  is  of  these  houses  that 
Sltililx--  writes  in  his  Anatomy  of  Abuses:  "  In  the  fields  and  sub- 
urlx'.s  of  the  cities  they  have  gardens  either  paled  or  walled  round 
about  very  high,  with  their  harbers  and  bowers  fit  for  the  purpose. 
And  least  they  may  be  espied  in  these  open  places,  they  have  their 
banquetting  houses  with  galleries,  turrets,  and  what  not,  therein 
sumptuously  erected." 

166-167.  profited  In  strange  concealments,  proficient  in  secret 
arts. 

177.  you  are  too  wilful-blame,  you  deliberately  make  yourself 
deserving  of  blame. 

181.  blood,  spirit. 

182.  the  dearest  grace,  the  utmost  credit. 

183.  present,  reveal. 

186.  opinion,  obstinacy.  This  meaning  is  preserved  in  the 
modern  opinionatite. 

184.  government,  self-control. 

189.  Beguiling  .  .  .  commendation,  cheating  them  of  the  approval 
which  they  would  otherwise  command. 

191.  and.     The  conjunction  and  is  often  used  by  Shakespeare 
and  his  contemporaries  to  connect  an  affirmative  and  a  command, 
a  usage  obsolete  in  modern  English.     Cf.  Hamlet,  iv.  4.  6-7 : 

"  We  shall  express  our  duty  in  his  eye ; 
And  let  him  know  so." 

192.  spite,  vexation. 

196.   my  aunt  Percy.     She  was  really  his  sister. 

199.   harlotry,  hussy. 

202.  swelling  heavens,  swollen  eyes.  The  reference  is  to  "  their 
beautiful  blue,  and  to  rain  falling  from  heaven  "  (Deighton). 

204.   In  such  a  parley,  in  such  language,  i.e.  of  the  eyes. 

206.   a  feeling  disputation,  a  conversation  of  the  senses. 

209.   highly,  in  high-flown  diction. 

211.  division,  melody ;  literally  "  a  variation  of  melody  upon 
some  given  fundamental  harmony  "  (Dyce). 

213.  in  this,  in  not  knowing  Welsh. 

214.  She  bids  you  on  the  wanton  rushes  lay  you.    Lady  Mor- 
timer's sleep-song,  as  rendered  by  Glendower,  is  as  truly  lyrical  in 
feeling  and  expression  as  the  famous  epithalamium  of  Juliet : 

"  Gallop  apace,  you  fiery-footed  steeds  .  .  ." 

(Romeo  and  Juliet,  iii.  2.  1). 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  167 

The  beautiful  imagery  of  the  passage  was  recognized,  as  Steevens  has 
shown,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  In  their  Philaster  (iii.  2) 
Arethusa  asks : 

"  Who  shall  take  up  his  lute, 
And  touch  it  till  he  crown  a  silent  sleep 
Upon  my  eyelids,  making  me  dream,  and  cry, 
'  Oh,  my  dear,  dear  Philaster ! '  ' 

wanton,  green. 

rushes.  Rushes  served  as  a  covering  for  the  floor  before  carpets 
came  into  general  use.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Eliza- 
bethan stage  was  strewn  with  rushes. 

217.   crown,  place  as  king. 

219-222.  Making  such  .  .  .  east.  Dr.  Johnson  paraphrases 
these  verses  as  follows :  "  She  will  lull  you  by  her  song  into  soft 
tranquillity,  in  which  you  shall  be  so  near  to  sleep  as  to  be  free  from 
perturbation,  and  so  much  awake  as  to  be  sensible  of  pleasure ;  a 
state  partaking  of  sleep  and  wakefulness,  as  the  twilight  of  night 
and  day." 

224.    book,  schedule  of  indentures. 

226-228.  And  those  musicians  ...  be  here.  The  meaning 
may  be  interpreted  as  follows :  "  And  the  musicians  who  are  to 
delight  you  with  their  music,  even  though  at  present  they  be  sus- 
pended in  the  air  a  thousand  leagues  from  here,  shall  straightway 
by  my  magic  arts  be  summoned  to  attend  upon  you." 

229.  Come,  Kate,  thou  art  perfect.  .  .  .  Hotspur's  parody 
makes  us  turn  abruptly  from  the  delicate  sentiment  and  lyricism 
of  the  Celtic  nature  to  the  studied  coldness  of  the  Saxon  temper, 
which  conceals  strong  feeling  beneath  outward  indifference  to 
emotion.  The  antagonism  of  the  Celtic  and  Saxon  natures,  as 
embodied  in  Glendower  and  Hotspur  respectively,  is  strikingly 
illustrated  throughout  the  scene. 

232.  devil  understands  Welsh ;  a  reference  to  the  obedience  of 
the  unseen  musicians  to  Glendower's  summons.     In  The  Tempest 
(iii.  2.  138),  Stephano  refers  to  the  accompaniment  to  his  song, 
played  on  the  tabor  by  Ariel  invisible,  as  the  work  of  a  devil. 

233.  humorous,  whimsical,  capricious. 
240.  Lady,  my  brach,  my  bitch,  Lady. 

242.  thy  head  broken.  Cf.  ii.  3.  24-25,  "  brain  him  with  his 
lady's  fan." 

245.  Neither,  "  I  will  not  do  that  either."  Hotspur  is  probably 
satirical  in  describing  stillness  as  a  woman's  fault. 


168  KINT,   HENRY   THE   FOURTH    [Act  TIIHKB 

261.  in  good  sooth.  This  and  the  other  "  pretty  oaths  that  are 
not  dangerous,"  which  Lady  Percy  uses,  arouse  the  scorn  of  her 
impetuous  husband. 

263.   com/it-maker's,  confectioner's. 

266.  sarcenet  surety,  feeble  surety.     Karcenrt  is  the  name  of  a 
thin  silk,  originally  manufactured  by  the  Saracens,  whose  name  it 
bears. 

267.  Finsbury.     Finsbury,  in  Elizalx-than  times,  was  a  favorite 
pleasure  resort  of  the  Ixiiidon  citizens.     There  was  a  famous  archery- 
ground  there,  and  it  was  also  a  place  of  exercise  for  the  London 
train-bands. 

260.  protest,  protestation. 

pepper-gingerbread.  Hotspur  is  still  thinking  of  the  "  comfit- 
inaker's  wife." 

261.  To    velvet-guards   and   Sunday-citizens.    To    citizens    in 
their  Sunday  clothes  with  velvet  trimmings. 

264  266.  'T  is  the  next  way  .  .  .  teacher.  Singing  is  the  surest 
method  of  becoming  a  tailor  or  a  teacher  of  music  to  robins.  For 
the  musical  proclivities  of  the  tailor,  cf.  Hcaiimont  and  Fletcher's 
Knight  of  the  Hurtling  Penile,  ii.  8:  "  Never  trust  a  tailor  that  does 
not  sing  at  his  work."  Next  way  =  nearest  way. 

SCENE  2 

This  scene  between  the  prince  and  his  father,  the  formality  of 
which  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  free  and  easy  converse  of  the 
prince  with  his  Eastcheap  associates,  gives  us  further  insight  into  the 
character  of  the  two  men,  and  also  marks  an  advance  in  the  historical 
plot.  The  king,  in  his  anxiety  to  teach  his  son  a  lesson,  so  far  puts 
aside  the  mask  of  kingship  as  to  reveal  the  means  by  which  he  won 
the  crown  from  the  unfortunate  Richard.  We  see  throughout  the 
skilled  diplomatist,  whose  every  step  is  deliberate  and  for  whom 
spontaneous  action  is  impossible.  When  he  lays  bare  the  steps  by 
which  he  gained  the  throne,  we  are  tempted  to  accept  those  terms  of 
abuse  —  "  this  king  of  smiles  .  .  .  this  fawning  greyhound  "  — 
which  Hotspur  heaped  upon  him  in  Act  i,  scene  3.  Studied  di- 
plomacy has  become  so  firmly  ingrafted  into  the  king's  nature  that 
he  is  unable  to  understand  the  open  honesty  of  his  son.  He  sees  in 
the  prince  another  Richard,  and  fears  that  after  his  own  death  the 
House  of  I>ancaster  will  fall  a  victim  to  the  House  of  Percy.  The 
dignity  and  manly  openness  of  the  prince's  bearing  in  his  father's 
presence  win  our  hearts,  and  at  last  win  the  heart  of  his  father :  "  A 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  169 

hundred  thousand  rebels  die  in  this."  So  far  we  have  seen  the 
prince  almost  exclusively  in  the  company  of  his  taverners,  but  the 
scene  before  us  reveals  that  other  side  of  his  nature  into  which  we 
gained  a  momentary  insight  during  his  soliloquy  in  Act  i,  scene  2. 
The  king  here,  as  on  previous  occasions,  draws  a  comparison  between 
his  own  son  and  Hotspur,  greatly  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  former. 
The  prince's  reply  is  altogether  noble.  His  father  has  suggested 
that  he  is  guilty  of  the  basest  treachery  of  which  a  Prince  of  Wales 
can  be  capable,  but  he  takes  no  offense.  Drawn  by  the  king  into 
comparison  with  Percy,  he  declares  that  Percy  is  only  his  factor,  his 
agent,  "  to  engross  up  glorious  deeds  on  my  behalf."  He  utters  in 
this  speech  no  idle  boast,  but  speaks  with  the  full  conviction  of  the 
man  who  knows  himself  far  better  than  others  know  him.  From 
certain  words  of  the  king,  and  more  fully  from  the  speech  of  Blunt, 
we  learn  of  the  progress  of  the  rebellion.  Hotspur  and  his  father, 
Archbishop  Scroop,  Earl  Douglas,  and  Mortimer  are  all  in  the  field, 
and  the  proposed  meeting-place  of  the  different  contingents  is 
Shrewsbury. 

The  palace.     Westminster  Palace. 

I.  give  us  leave,  give  us  leave  to  be  alone. 
6.  my  blood,  my  offspring. 

8.  passages  of  life,  course  of  life. 

II.  my  mistreadings.    Cf .  Richard  II,  v.  3.  3,  "  If  any  plague 
hang  over  us,  'tis  he  [Harry]."    The  king  is  conscious  of  the  wrong 
he  has  committed  in  compassing  the  crown,  and  sees  in  his  son  a 
divine  instrument  of  vengeance.     With  this  reference  to  his  "  mis- 
treadings "  may  be  compared  those  words  spoken  to  the  prince  in 
2  Henry  IV,  iv.  5.  184-186 : 

"  God  knows,  my  son, 

By  what  by-paths  and  indirect  crook'd  ways 
I  met  this  crown." 

A  righteous  Nemesis  pursues  Henry  IV  throughout  his  reign,  but 
that  he  should  see  that  Nemesis  working  in  the  person  of  his  son  is 
strange  irony.  The  shrewd  and  diplomatic  Bolingbroke,  who  won 
his  way  to  the  throne  by  keen  insight  into  the  minds  and  characters 
of  men,  persists  in  misunderstanding  the  true  nature  of  his  own  son. 

13.   lewd.     The  word  here  means  simply  vulgar,  low. 

attempts,  exploits. 

15.  As  thou  .  .  .  withal,  "  as  thou  takest  part  in  as  an  equal " 
(Herford). 

16.  blood,  descent. 


170  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  THREE 

19.  Quit,  exculpate. 

20.  doubtless,  eertain. 

23.    in  reproof  of,  in  refuting. 

25.  pick-thanks,  flatterers;  literally  th<we  who  are  always  on 
the  look-out  for  opportunities  of  winning  the  gratitude  of  others  by 
their  servility.  Holinshed  uses  the  word.  See  Introduction,  pp. 
ix-x. 

newsmongers,  tale-bearers. 

26  28.  /  may  .  .  .  submission.  Taken  with  wliat  goes  before, 
the  meaning  is :  "  Refuting  much  of  that  which  has  been  laid  to  my 
charge,  let  me  beg  such  mitigation  of  my  faults  as  may  enable  me, 
acknowledging  my  sins,  to  obtain  pardon  at  your  hands  for  those 
real  faults  which  in  the  wantonness  of  youth  I  have  committed." 

30.  affections,  propensities. 
hold  a  wing,  pursue  a  course. 

31.  Quite  from,  quite  apart  from. 

32.  Thy  place  .  .  .  lost.     This  dismissal  of  Prince  Henry  from 
the  Privy  Council,  if  indeed  it  happened  at  all,  is  of  much  later  date. 
It  is,  in  fact,  connected  with  the  famous  story  of  the  box  on  the  ears 
given  by  the  prince  to  Lord  Chief-Justice  Gascoigne,  which  is  set 
forth  in  great  detail  in  The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V.     Shake- 
speare introduces  the  matter  at  this  point  in  the  story  deliberately ; 
Holinshed  places  the  event  in  its  right  order. 

33.  thy  younger  brother.     Cf.   Holinshed :    "  The  king  after 
expelled  him  out  of  his  privie  councell,  banisht  him  the  court,  and 
made  the  duke  of  Clarence  (his  yoonger  brother)  president  of  coun- 
cell in  his  steed." 

36.  thy  time,  years,  youth.  Cf.  Tiro  Gentlemen  of  Verona, 
ii.  4.  62-68,  where  Valentine  describes  Proteus's  worth  to  the 
Duke: 

"  I  know  him  as  myself ;  for  from  our  infancy 
We  ha vt-  conversed  and  spent  our  hours  together: 
And  though  myself  have  been  an  idle  truant, 
Omitting  the  sweet  benefit  of  time 
To  clothe  mine  age  with  angel-like  perfection, 
Yet  hath  Sir  Proteus,  for  that's  his  name, 
Made  use  and  fair  advantage  of  his  days." 

43.  possession,  the  actual  possessor,  i.e.  Richard  II. 
46.   likelihood,  prospects. 

50.  I  stole  .  .  .  heaven.  The  idea  of  acquiring  surreptitiously 
must  not  be  pressed  hen- ;  the  king  means  that  his  courtesy  was  so 


Sc  KXE  Two]  NOTES  171 

great  that  it  seemed  to  men  as  though  it  had  come  direct  from 
heaven.  With  the  whole  of  this  speech  compare  Richard's  words 
in  Richard  II,  i.  4.  23-36,  and  see  Introduction,  p.  xx. 

59.  wan  by  rareness,  won  by  rareness.      This  form  of  the  past 
tense,  wan,  though  common  in  Elizabethan  English,  is  not  found 
elsewhere  in  Shakespeare.     Hal  had  used  the  same  argument  to 
justify   to    himself   his    association    with  Falstaff  and  his  fellow 
roisterers. 

60.  skipping,  flighty. 

61.  bavin.     This  is  a  word  used  for  faggots  of  brushwood  of  a 
highly    combustible    nature.     The    following    verse    explains    the 
metaphor. 

62.  carded.     To  card  meant  to  debase  by  mixing,  and  is  used 
literally  in  Greene's  Quip  for  an  Upstart  Courtier:  "  You  card  your 
beer,  if  you  see  your  guests  begin  to  be  drunk,  hah*  small,  half 
strong."     See  Glossary. 

63.  capering.     This  is  the  reading  of  Q  1 ;   read  in  the  light  of 
the  adjective  skipping,  which  precedes,  it  is  much  better  than  the 
carping  of  the  other  editions. 

65-67.  And  gave  .  .  .  comparative,  to  the  detriment  of  his 
kingly  name  and  dignity,  he  joined  in  the  merriment  of  jesting 
youths,  and  exchanged  wit-combats  with  every  beardless  boy  who 
was  vain  enough  to  match  himself  against  the  king. 

69.  Enfeoff'd  .  .  .  popularity,  gave  himself  up  wholly  to  the  pur- 
suit of  popularity.  The  word  enfeqff'd,  which  dates  from  feudal 
times,  means  literally  "  to  invest  with  possession." 

77.  community,  commonness,  familiarity. 

83.   cloudy,  sullen. 

87.    With  vile  participation,  by  mixing  with  vulgar  people. 

91.  Make  blind  itself.  The  king  means  that  in  his  tender  love 
for  his  son  his  eyes  are  blinded  with  tears. 

98-99.  He  hath  .  .  .  succession,  his  worthiness  furnishes  him 
with  a  higher  claim  to  the  kingly  power  than  is  found  in  your 
shadowy  right  of  succession. 

100.  of  no  right,  without  any  legal  right. 
colour  like  to  right,  semblance  of  right. 

101.  harness,  armed  men. 

102.  the  lion,  the  king. 

105.   bruising  arms,  weapons  of  war. 

109.  majority,  preeminence. 

110.  capital,  supreme. 

115    Enlarged,  set  him  at  liberty. 


172  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  THREE 

116.  To  fill .  .  .  defiance  up,  in  order  to  defy  us  in  the  completest 
manner  possible. 

120.  Capitulate,  draw  up  their  grievances.  Holinshed  gives 
n  list  of  these  grievances  as  formally  drawn  up  and  presented  to  the 
king. 

124.  vassal,  l>ase-born,  cowardly. 

125.  start  of  spleen,  malicious  impulses. 
136.  favours,  features. 

142.   For,  as  for,  concerning. 

147.  factor,  agent. 

148.  engross  up,  accumulate. 
151.   worship,  honor. 

156.   intemperance,  ungoverned  conduct. 

167.  end  of  life  cancels  all  bands.  Cf.  The  Tempe.it,  iii.  2.  140, 
"  He  that  dies  pays  all  debts."  bands  =  Ixjmls. 

159.  parcel,  portion. 

160.  A  hundred  thousand  rebels  die  in  this.    The  prince's  noble 
defense  forces  his  father  to  take  him  to  his  heart  and  give  up  his 
suspicions.     Yet  even  after  this,  and  after  the  prince's  splendid 
achievements  at  Shrewsbury,  the  king  falls  back  upon  his  old  sus- 
picions.    In  2  Henry  IV  he  becomes  a  slave  to  them. 

161.  charge,  a  responsible  position. 

164.  Lord  Mortimer  of  Scotland.  Shakespeare  makes  the 
mistake  of  giving  the  name  Mortimer,  which  belonged  to  the 
English  Lords  of  March,  to  the  Scottish  family  of  Dunbar,  who 
also  held  the  title  of  Lords  of  March.  The  person  in  question 
is  George  Dunbar,  who  fought  with  Henry  against  the  Percies  at 
the  battle  of  Shrewsbury. 

167.  head,  army. 

168.  If  promises  .  .  .  hand,  if  all  the  rebels  keep  their  promise. 
172.   advertisement,  intelligence. 

177.  Our  business  valued,  if  the  work  we  have  to  do  is  rightly 
estimated. 

180.  Advantage  .  .  .  delay.  "  The  favorable  opportunity  grows 
fat  and  lazy,  loses  its  elasticity,  when  men  are  dilatory  "  (Delius). 

him,  himself. 

SCEXE  3 

The  scene  before  us  has  something  in  common  with  Act  ii,  scene  4. 
Falstaff  puts  forward  the  same  extravagant  claims  in  the  matter  of 
the  pix-ket-pieking  as  before  anent  the  men  in  buckram,  and  here 
again  it  rests  with  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  unmask  him  and  show  the 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  173 


preposterous  character  of  those  claims.  If  we  were  disposed  to 
regard  Falstaff  seriously,  and  to  bring  his  conduct  to  a  moral  test, 
the  charges  brought  against  him  by  the  hostess  of  the  Boar's  Head 
would  serve  to  show  the  unscrupulousness  of  his  character.  When 
brought  to  book  by  the  prince  in  regard  to  this  matter,  the  knight 
shows  a  skill  in  evasion  almost  equal  to  that  of  the  men-in-buckram 
scene.  To  the  prince's  indignant  question,  "  Sirrah,  do  I  owe 
you  a  thousand  pound?  "  his  ready  answer  is,  "  A  million:  thy 
Jove  is  worth  a  million ;  thou  owest  me  thy  love."  A  little  later, 
when  the  prince  puts  his  treatment  of  the  hostess  in  the  true  light, 
he  shields  himself  from  the  charge  of  disgrace  by  pleading,  "  Thou 
knowest  in  the  state  of  innocency  Adam  fell,  and  what  should  poor 
Jack  Falstaff  do  in  the  days  of  villany,"  and  then  with  magnificent 
effrontery  he  proceeds  to  forgive  the  hostess,  whom  he  has  maligned. 
The  change  from  prose  to  verse  in  the  prince's  concluding  speech 
serves  to  remind  us  of  the  other  side  of  his  character.  He  can  dally 
with  Falstaff  in  moments  of  leisure,  but  he  is  not  unmindful  of  the 
great  issue  that  is  impending. 

2.   last  action,  viz.,  the  robbery  at  Gadshill. 

bate,  lose  flesh. 

5.  apple-John.     The  apple-John  or  John-apple  was  an  apple  the 
skin  of  which,  owing  to  long  keeping,  had  become  very  wrinkled. 
In  2  Henry  IV,  iv.  1.  1-10,  we  are  told  that  "  the  Prince  once  set  a 
dish  of  apple-Johns  before  him  [Falstaff],  and  told  him  there  were 
five  more  Sir  Johns."     In  Falstaff's  words,  "  I  am  withered  like 
an  old  apple-john,"  he  may  be  emphasizing  am  in  memory  of  this 
incident.     Am  would  then  have  the  meaning  "  am,  as  Hal  said." 

6.  in  some  liking,  in  good  condition. 

9.  peppercorn.     Referred  to  by  Falstaff  because  of  its  small  size. 
In  Merry  Wives,  iii.  5. 148-149,  Ford  says  that  Falstaff  "  cannot  creep 
into  ...  a  pepper-box." 

10.  a  brewer's  horse.    Malt-horse  was  a  common  term  of  re- 
proach in  Shakespeare's  time. 

11.  spoil,  spoiling. 

13-14.  so  fretful,  you  cannot  live  long.  Sir  Toby  Belch  (Twelfth 
Night,  i.  3.  2-3)  is  "  sure  care's  an  enemy  to  life  " ;  and  Silence 
(2  Henry  IV,  v.  3.  50)  sings,  "  And  a  merry  heart  lives  long-a." 

21-22.   lived  well,  lived  righteously. 

22.  in  good  compass,  within  bounds.  Rowland  Whyte  wrote  in 
March,  1596,  to  Sir  Robert  Sidney  (Collins*  Memorials  of  State, 
II,  26) :  "  I  beseech  your  lordship  determine  upon  some  cours  to 
live  within  your  compas,  and  to  gett  out  of  debt,  for  I  feare  me  it 


174  KING   HENRY  THE   FWRTH    [ACT  THKEB 

will>e  long  or  any  advancement  wilbc  laid  upon  you  here  for  your 
g(xxl." 

26.  out  of  all  compass.  Hanlolph  here  uses  compaan  in  the  sense 
of  grasp,  embrace  —  "  thou  art  unable  to  be  embraced." 

28.   admiral,  admiral's  ship.     See  Glossary. 

30.  Knight  of  the  Burning  Lamp.  \  humorous  allusion  to  the 
quaint  titles  assumed  by  knights-errant.  C'f.  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  The  Knight  of  the  Ilurning  Pestle. 

34.   a  Death's  head,  a  ring  with  a  death's  head  for  a  memento  mori. 

39-40.  this  fire,  that's  God's  angel.  An  allusion  to  Psalm 
civ.  4,  and  to  Hebrews,  1.  7. 

46.  purchase,  purchasing  power. 

47.  triumph,  a  triurnplial  procession  accompanied  by  torches. 

48.  links,  small  torches. 
61.   me,  at  my  cost. 

as  good  cheap,  as  cheap.     See  Glossary  under  cheap. 

63.  salamander,  a  kind  of  lizard,  popularly  supposed  to  live  in 
fire. 

66-67.  /  would  .  .  .  belly.  It  was  a  proverbial  retort  to  wish 
something  railed  at  were  in  one's  l>elly. 

60.  Dame  Partlet  the  hen.  This  is  the  name  of  the  hen  in 
Reynard  the  Fox  and  in  Chaucer's  The  \onnes  Pree.ttex  Talc.  The 
word  partlet  means,  literally,  a  ruff,  and  was  applied  to  the  hen 
because  of  the  ruff  of  feathers  around  her  neck. 

67.  lost  .  .  .  before.  The  anger  of  the  Hostess  is  explained  by 
Harrison's  account  of  the  responsibility  of  the  inn-keeper  for  the 
property  of  his  guests :  "  If  he  loose  ought  whilest  he  abideth  in  the 
inne,  the  host  is  bound  by  a  general  eustome  to  restore  the  damag.*, 
so  that  there  is  no  greater  securitie  anie  where  for  travellers  than 
in  the  greatest  ins  of  England  "  (Description  of  England,  I,  107). 

70.  woman.  t'sed  as  a  term  of  reproach  in  a  bad  sense.  Cf. 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Woman  Hater  (Weber  ed.,  p.  33) :  "  Thou 
art  a  filthy,  impudent  whore ;  a  woman,  a  very  woman." 

79.   Dowlas.     A  coarse  linen  made  in  Doulas,  Brittany. 

81.  bolters,  canvas  sieves. 

82.  holland.  finest  lawn. 

84-86.   by-drinkings,  drinking  between  meals. 

89-90.  look  .  .  .  rich?  Cf.  PasquiU  lest.i,  1604  (Shakespeare 
Jest-Books,  Hazlitt,  iii.  9) :  "A  most  pretious  and  rich  nose  it  was, 
set  with  Rubies  of  all  sorts." 

91.  denier,  a  French  copper  coin  of  the  value  of  a  twelfth  of  A 
cent. 


THREE]  NOTES  175 

92.   younker,  greenhorn. 

92-93.  take  mine  ease  .  .  .  inn.  The  saying  was  a  proverbial 
one.  The  word  inn  meant  originally  any  place  of  abode,  and  this  is 
its  meaning  in  the  old  saying.  Falstaff,  however,  uses  the  word 
in  its  modern  sense  as  well. 

95.   mark.   The  value  of  the  English  mark  is  13s.  4d.,  or  $3.24. 

99.    Jack,  a  common  term  of  contempt. 

sneak-cup.  The  N.  E.  D.  explains  this  as  "  apparently  an  error 
for  sneak-up,"  and  signifies  "  a  mean,  servile,  or  cringing  person." 

102  is  the  wind  in  that  door,  is  this  [marching  to  battle]  the  order 
of  the  day. 

104.   Newgate  fashion,  i.e.  like  criminals. 

129.  a  drawn  fox ;  referring  to  the  craft  of  a  fox  drawn  from  his 
hole,  by  means  of  which  he  seeks  to  escape. 

Maid  Marian  was  a  personage  associated  with  the  May-day 
games,  and  especially  with  the  morris-dance,  which  was  chiefly 
connected  with  May-day.  The  performers  of  this  part  in  later 
times  were  often  women  of  ill-fame,  and  this  ill  odor  clings  to  the 
name  in  its  use  here.  Maid  Marian  was  also  associated  with  Robin 
Hood,  but  there,  curiously  enough,  she  shines  as  a  model  of  chastity. 

130.  the  deputy's  wife  of  the  ward,  the  wife  of  the  police  officer 
of  the  town  ward,  i.e.  &  woman  of  respectability. 

131.  you    thing.     Used    in    contempt    or    reproach,    implying 
unworthiness  to  be  called  a  person.     Cf.  The  Winter's  Tale,  ii.  1.  82, 
"  O  thou  thing !  " 

141.  thou  knave,  thou.  This  "  thouing"  of  Falstaff  by  Quickly 
is  a  part  of  her  contempt  for  him.  Cf.  2  Henry  IV,  v.  5.  33-34  : 

"  Host .   Thou  atomy,  thou ! 
Dol.    Come,  you  thin  thing ;   come,  you  rascal." 

145.  where  to  have  her,  in  which  class  ("  fish  or  flesh  ")  to  place 
her. 

152.  ought,  owed.     See  Glossary. 

156.  thy  love  is  worth  a  million;  a  proverbial  phrase.  Cf. 
Dekker's  Roaring  Girl,  III,  161 :  "  There's  a  friend  worth  a  mil- 
lion " ;  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Monsieur  Thomas  ('Weber  ed., 
VI,  474) :  "  A  friend  at  need,  you  rogue,  is  worth  a  million  " ; 
Hudibras,  210  :  "  Madam,  quoth  he,  your  love's  a  million." 

171-172.  I  pray  God  .  .  .  break.  Steevens  sees  in  this  an  allu- 
sion to  the  old  proverb,  "  Ungirt,  unblessed,"  which  is  quoted  by 
Dekker  in  his  Witch  of  Edmonton. 

178.   embossed,  swollen. 


176  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  FOOB 

181  182.  pocket  .  .  .  injuries.  An  allusion  to  the  common 
expression.  "  to  ptx-ket  up  injuries  "  |  i.e.  insults]  or  "  wrong"  (see 
I.  1HI  below),  i.t.  submit  tamely  t<i  insults  (Cowl  and  Morgan). 

188  189.  more  flesh  .  .  .  frailty.  Falstaff  may  wrll  have  in 
mind  here  Dr.  Pendleton'fl  heartening  of  Master  Saunders  which 
appeared  in  Fox's  Acts  ami  Monument*  (see  (iairdner's  I^ollarddy 
and  the  Reformation,  IV,  35$) :  "  '  What,  man  ! '  quoth  he,  '  there 
Ls  a  great  deal  more  clause  in  me  to  In-  afraid  than  in  you,  for  as 
much  as,  you  see,  I  carry  a  greater  mass  of  flesh  u|M>n  my  Itack  than 
you  do,  and  being  so  laden  with  a  heavier  lump  of  this  vile  carcase 
ought  therefore  of  nature  to  IK-  more  frail  than  you.'  " 

193.  love  thy  husband.  Falstaff  here  overwhelms  the  Hostess 
with  Saint  Paul's  counsel  adapted  to  apply  to  her  condition. 
( 'f.  North brooke  (  Treatise  Again.it  Dicing,  etc.,  Sh.  Soc.  Pub.,  p.  75) : 
"  St.  Paul  admoni.sheth  women  to  love  their  husbands,  to  bring  up 
their  children,  and  to  be  byders  and  tarriers  at  home." 

The  Lord  Chief-Justice's  account  (2  Henry  IV,  ii.  1.  1*0-121)  of 
Fal.staff's  manner  of  "  wrenching  the  true  cause  the  false  way  " 
applies  admirably  here.  His  "  confident  brow  "  and  "  throng  of 
words  that  come  with  such  more  than  impudent  sauciness  "  are 
successful  in  putting  down  effectively  the  overawed  Hostess, 
although  it  is  she,  and  not  FulsUiff,  who  is  the  aggrieved  one. 

196.  I  am  pacified  still,  I  am  always  a  peacemaker.  Hanmer 
placed  the  full-stop  after  pacified,  and  read  "Still?"  i.e.  "Are 
you  still  unsatisfied?  " 

199.    beef,  ox.     ( 'f .  veal  =  calf  in  lire's  labour  s  Lost,  v.  *.  *47. 

206.   with  unwashed  hands,  i.e.  immediately. 

214.  rebels.     The  reference  is  to  Hotspur  and  his  confederates. 

215.  I  laud  .  .  .  them.     He  praises  the  rebels  because  they  have 
procured    him    "  a   charge   of   foot."     Also,   as    the   Chief-Justice 
reminds  him  later  (2  Henry  IV,  i.  2.  170),  he  has  to  "  thank  the 
unquiet  time  for  your  unquiet  o'er-posting  that  action." 

223.  Temple  hall ;  probably  a  liall  in  the  Temple,  one  of  the 
Inns  of  Court. 

226.  furniture,  equipment. 

227.  burning.     The  word  is  not  to  be  taken  literally,  but  in  the 
metaphorical  sense  of  "  consumed  with  warlike  ardor." 

230.  my  drum.  The  drum  shared  with  the  colors  the  soldier's 
devotion.  Parolles'  effort  to  recover  the  captured  drum  (Alfs  Well) 
is  explained  by  this  fact.  Falstaff  would  by  preference  have  de- 
voted to  the  tavern  the  care  and  attention  now  to  be  paid  to  his 
drum. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  177 

ACT  IV  — SCENE  1 

Each  scene  brings  us  nearer  to  that  engagement  at  Shrewsbury 
which  gives  to  the  play  its  dramatic  unity.  The  epic  character 
of  this,  as  of  most  of  the  history  plays,  does  not  permit  of  a  regular 
rise  and  fall  —  strophe  and  catastrophe  —  of  the  action  such  as  we 
find  in  many  of  Shakespeare's  tragedies;  but  the  Percy  rebellion, 
or  at  least  that  section  of  it  in  which  Hotspur  is  the  chief  actor, 
gives  to  1  Henry  IV  a,  singleness  of  theme,  and  furnishes  it  with  a 
crisis.  In  the  scene  before  us  the  sense  of  impending  failure,  which 
we  foresaw  already  in  Act  iii,  scene  1,  is  deepened.  We  learn  of 
Northumberland's  excuses  and  of  Glendower's  inability  to  unite 
his  forces  with  those  of  the  other  rebels.  The  high  spirits  of  Hotspur 
rise  above  these  disappointing  tidings,  but  to  the  more  prudent 
Worcester  they  bear  "  a  frosty  sound."  Even  Hotspur's  optimism 
is  tinged  with  misgivings,  and  the  last  words  which  he  utters  in 
this  scene  —  "  Doomsday  is  near;  die  all,  die  merrily  "  —  suggest 
that  he  also  foresees  defeat.  Holinshed's  account  of  the  meeting  of 
Worcester  and  Hotspur,  and  of  the  illness  of  Northumberland,  is 
as  follows : 

"  Howbeit  when  the  matter  came  to  triall,  the  most  part  of  the 
confederates  abandoned  them,  and  at  the  daie  of  the  conflict  left 
them  alone.  Thus  after  that  the  conspirators  had  discovered 
themselves,  the  lord  Henrie  Persie  desirous  to  proceed  in  the  enter- 
prise, upon  trust  to  be  assisted  by  Owen  Glendouer,  the  earle  of 
March,  and  other,  assembled  an  armie  of  men  of  armes  and  archers 
foorth  of  Cheshire  and  Wales.  Incontinentlie  his  uncle  Thomas 
Persie  earle  of  Worcester,  that  had  the  government  of  the  prince 
of  Wales,  who  as  then  laie  at  London  in  secret  manner,  conveied 
himselfe  out  of  the  princes  house,  and  comming  to  Stafford  (where 
he  met  his  nephue)  they  increased  their  power  by  all  waies  and 
meanes  they  could  devise.  The  earle  of  Northumberland  himself 
was  not  with  them,  but  being  sicke,  had  promised  upon  his  amend- 
ment to  repaire  unto  them  (as  some  write)  with  all  convenient 
speed." 

3-5.  Such  attribution  .  .  .  world,  such  a  tribute  of  praise  should 
you  win,  Douglas,  that  no  soldier  of  this  present  age  should  be  so 
well  received  by  men  throughout  the  world. 

so  general  current,  in  such  universal  currency.  The  metaphor 
is  of  a  coin  which  passes  current  among  all  nations. 

6.  defy,  refuse,  renounce.  The  word  is  used  with  a  similar 
meaning  by  Hotspur  in  i.  3.  22&-22Q : 


178  KING   HENRY  THE   FOI'RTH    (Acr  FOUR 

"  All  studies  here  I  solemnly  defy. 
Save  how  to  gall  and  pinch  thi.s  Bolingbroke." 

7.  soothers,  flatterers. 

9.   task  me  to  my  word,  put  my  words  to  the  test. 

approve,  prove. 

11.  No  man  so  potent.  .  .  .    Shakespeare's  Douglas,   though 
brave,  is  a  boaster  and  a  shallow  egoist.     In  this  scene  he  shows  little 
intellectual  power,  Ixwsts  of  his  valor,  and  harps  on  the  word  "  fear" 
to  the  last  degree  of  childishness. 

12.  beard,  encounter. 

18.  justling,  jostling,  bustling. 

24.  He  was  much  fear'd  by  his  physicians,  his  physicians  were 
alarmed  about  him. 

28.  this  sickness  doth  infect.  .  .  .  Hotspur,  though  he  chafes 
at  his  father's  absence,  is  too  generous  to  attribute  that  absence  to 
its  real  cause  —  cowardice.  Here  we  are  informed  that  Northum- 
berland was  "  sick."  In  2  Henry  IV,  when  the  battle  is  over,  and 
Hotspur  is  dead,  we  learn  that  he  was  "  crafty-sick." 

30.  Tts  catching  hither.     The  infection  reaches  as  far  as  this 
camp. 

31.  inward  sickness,  internal  disease.     Hotspur  is  too  impetuous 
to  finish  the  sentence. 

32.  by  deputation,  by  sending  a  representative  instead  of  going 
himself. 

36.   On  any  soul  removed,  on  any  stranger. 

36.  advertisement,  advice. 

37.  conjunction,  allied  force. 

39.  there  is  no  quailing  now,  there  must  be  no  hesitation 
now. 

40-41.  possess'd  Of,  acquainted  with. 

42.   maim,  disabling  hurt. 

44.  And  yet,  in  faith,  it  is  not.  .  .  .  Optimism  and  eagerness  for 
the  fray  make  a  sophist  of  Hotspur.  He  proceeds  to  find  reasons  why 
Northumberland's  absence  is  an  advantage  to  them,  but  succeeds 
in  convincing  only  Douglas,  whose  intellect  is  weak,  but  whose 
devotion  to  Hotspur  is  very  strong. 

his  present  want,  his  failure  to  join  us  now. 

46-47.    To  set  .  .  .  cast,  to  stake  at  one  throw  all  that  we  have. 

states,  worldly  positions,  fortunes. 

47.  mam,  a  hand  of  cards  (Fr.  main). 

48.  nice  hazard,  precarious  chance. 


SCENE  OXE]  NOTES  179 

49-50.  for  therein  .  .  .  hope,  in  doing  this  we  should  realize  that 
all  our  hopes  were  fixed  on  a  single  encounter. 

51.   list,  limit,  boundary. 

53.  Where,  whereas,  reversion,  a  hope  in  store  for  us.  Cora- 
pare  the  phrase  "  A  comfort  of  retirement  "  (1.  56). 

54-55.  We  may  boldly  .  .  .  to  come  in,  we  may  boldly  use  up 
our  present  forces,  having  the  prospect  of  reinforcement  after- 
ward. 

56.  A  comfort  of  retirement,  the  consolation  that  we  have  some- 
thing to  fall  back  upon. 

58.  look  big,  loom  ominously. 

61.   hair,  complexion,  character. 

69.   offering,   challenging,  attacking. 

71.   loop,  loophole. 

73.  draws,  draws  back. 

78.   A  larger  dare,  a  greater  boldness. 

83.    Yet,  so  far. 

90.   No  harm,  that  will  do  us  no  injury. 

92.  Or  hitherwards  intended  speedily,  or  is  planning  a  march 
hither  very  soon. 

96.  madcap  Prince  of  Wales.  Hotspur's  opinion  of  Prince  Henry 
is  still  the  same  as  it  was  in  i.  3. 

96.  dqff'd  the  world  aside,  thrust  on  one  side  all  the  serious 
concerns  of  life. 

98-99.  All  plumed  .  .  .  lately  bathed.  The  reading  of  the  Qq 
and  Ff  is  as  follows : 

"  All  plumed  like  estridges  that  with  the  wind 
Baited  like  eagles  having  lately  bathed." 

This  conveys  no  meaning,  and  Malone  accordingly  suggested  that 
some  such  verse  as  "  Run  on,  in  gallant  trim  they  now  advance  " 
had  fallen  out  after  wind.  Douce's  suggestion,  however,  of  reading 
bated  (=  fluttered  their  wings)  for  baited,  and  of  placing  a  comma 
after  it,  makes  sense  of  the  passage  without  any  such  addition. 
"  All  are  equipped  and  under  arms,  all  are  in  full  feather  like  ostriches 
which  have  been  fluttering  their  wings  in  the  wind,  or  like  eagles 
which  are  shaking  the  moisture  from  their  wings  after  their  bath." 
This  use  of  the  word  bated  occurs  elsewhere  in  Shakespeare,  and  also 
in  the  following  letter  of  Bacon  :  "  Now  I  am  like  a  hawk  that  bates 
when  I  see  occasion  of  service,  but  cannot  fly  because  I  am  ty'd  to 
another's  fist."  Douce  declares  further  that  by  estridges  are  meant 
not  ostriches  but  goshawks,  and  quotes  a  verse  from  Antony  and 


180  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [Acr  FOUB 

Cleopatra  in  sup|H>rt  of  this :  "  And  in  that  mood  the  dove  will 
j>eck  the  est  ridge." 

100.  images.  These  would  lx-  images  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and 
of  saints,  which  in  C'atholic  churches  are  decked  in  splendid  apparel 
on  festive  occasions. 

104.  /  saw  young  Harry.  ...  Of  all  the  historic  characters  of 
the  play,  V'ernon  alone  discerns  the  true  nature  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
He  paints  for  us  a  heroic  prince,  and  his  genuine  admiration  for 
his  noble  foe  gives  a  heroic  quality  to  the  words  he  utters.  His 
whole  speech  is  deeply  ix>etic  and  kindled  with  the  fire  of  exalted 
imagination.  Hotspur  chafes  at  these  words  of  praise,  and  betrays 
a  strain  of  ungenerousness  in  an  otherwise  generous  nature.  Yet 
the  thought  of  the  coming  battle  fires  his  imagination,  and  his 
speech  takes  on  some  of  the  ardor  of  his  temper. 

beaver,  helmet. 

106.  cuisses,  thigh-guards. 

106.  feathered  Mercury.     Statues  of  the  Greek  god  Hermes, 
the  Roman  Mercurius,  represent  him  as  having  little  wings  at  his 
ankles,  suggestive  of  rapid  flight. 

107.  vaulted.     Malone  suggests  that  we  should  read  rault  it. 
110.   witch.  .  .horsemanship.     Lamont  in  Hamlet  (iv.  7.  86-91) 

is  also  highly  praised  because  he  "  had  witchcraft  "  in  lu's  horse- 
manship. Witch,  bewitch,  charm. 

113.  They  come  .  .  .  trim,  they  come  like  victims  decked  for 
sacrifice.     Trim  =  gay  attire. 

114.  the  fire-eyed  maid  of  smoky  war,  Bellona. 

118.  reprisal,  capture,  prize. 

119.  taste,  test.     The  Ff  read  take. 

126.   cannot.     This  is  the  reading  of  the  Ff ;   the  Qq,  curiously 
enough,  read  can.    draw,  assemble. 
129.   battle,  battalion,  army. 
132.   The  powers  of  us,  our  powers,  forces. 
may  serve,  shall  be  sufficient  for. 

SCENE  2 

The  king's  forces  are  now  on  the  march  toward  Shrewsbury,  and 
amongst  them  is  Falstaff  and  the  charge  of  foot  with  which  the 
prince  has  supplied  him.  The  gross  unscrupulousness  of  the  knight's 
character  is  here  completely  laid  bare.  He  is  devoid  of  all  sense  of 
honor,  and  stands  out  by  his  own  confession  a  bare-faced  rogue. 
The  use  which  he  has  made  of  his  commission  is  unpardonable ;  at 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  181 

the  king's  expense  he  has  acquired  "  three  hundred  and  odd  pounds," 
and  has  provided  himself  with  a  company  of  soldiers  of  whom  the 
best  that  even  he  can  say  is  that  they  are  "  food  for  powder." 
The  prince  does  not  reproach  him,  but  the  incident  is  assuredly 
remembered  by  him,  and  bears  fruit  in  those  words  spoken  by 
Henry  as  king  at  the  close  of  £  Henry  IV:  "  I  know  thee  not,  old 
man ;  fall  to  thy  prayers." 

3.  Co'fiV,  the  local  pronunciation  of  Coldfield ;  Sutton  Coldfield 
is  a  village  in  Warwickshire.  This  is  the  Cambridge  Editors'  emen- 
dation for  the  Sutton  cophill  of  the  Qq  and  Ff . 

6.  Lay  out,  spend  freely.  Instead  of  giving  Bardolph  money,  as 
he  is  requested  to  do,  Falstaff  bids  Bardolph  "  lay  out  "  money 
himself  —  or  else  pay  for  it  with  the  angel  that  the  bottle  makes. 

6.  makes  an  angel,  brings  our  wine-bill  to  an  angel.  The  angel, 
which  bore  the  figure  of  the  archangel  Michael  slaying  a  dragon  with 
his  spear,  was  equal  to  about  ten  shillings  at  this  time.  Shake- 
speare elsewhere  plays  with  the  double  meaning  of  the  word,  and  it 
is  very  likely  that  such  word-play  is  intended  here. 

9.  I  'II  answer  the  coinage,  I'll  guarantee  the  genuineness  of 
the  com. 

12.  If  I  be  not  ashamed  of  my  soldiers.  .  .  .      Falstaff  professes 
shame  for  his  conduct,  and  then  gives  an  exhibition  of  his  shameless- 
ness  by  describing  in  detail  the  condition  of  his  tatterdemalion 
company.     The  description  is  given  with  a  realism  that  conceals 
nothing,  but  lingers  fondly  over  every  disgraceful  detail. 

13.  soused  gurnet,  fish  pickled  in  vinegar.     "  Soused  gurnet  " 
was  considered  a  vulgar  dish,  and  the  phrase  is  used  rather  fre- 
quently in  Elizabethan  literature  as  a  term  of  reproach. 

the  king's  press,  the  king's  orders  to  impress  or  enlist  soldiers. 

16.  good  householders,  substantial  men  of  wealth. 

17.  contracted,  betrothed. 
19.   commodity,  collection. 
warm  slaves,  well-to-do  cowards. 
21.  caliver,  a  small  musket. 

a  struck  fowl,  a  wounded  wild-fowl. 

22-23.  toasts-and-butter,  literally  eaters  of  buttered  toast,  i.e 
pampered  persons.  In  Moryson's  Itinerary  (1617)  we  read : 
"  Londoners  and  all  within  the  sound  of  Bow-bell  are  in  reproach 
called  cocknies  and  eaters  of  buttered  toastes." 

26.  ancients,  ensigns.  Pistol  is  called  "  ancient  Pistol "  in 
Henry  V .  gentlemen  of  companies,  subordinate  officers. 

28.   the  painted  cloth.     Cloth  or  canvas,  with  pictures  or  mottoes 


18«  KINT,   HENRY  THE   FOl'RTH    (Art  ForR 

j).-iint«-'l    on    it,  served  a*  a  hanging  for  council  rooms  and  the 
rooms  of  dwelling-houses. 

30.  unjust,  dishonest. 

31.  revolted  tapsters.     Cf.  Hal's  conversation  with  the  tapster 
Francis,  touching  the  latter's  playing  the  coward  with  his  indenture 
(ii.  4.  5*-53). 

32.  trade-fallen,  out  of  service. 

32  33.  the  cankers  .  .  .  peace.  The  force  of  these  words  is 
made  clear  by  the  following  quotation  from  Nashe's  Pierce  Penniless, 
1592 :  "  All  the  canker-worms  that  breed  on  the  rust  of  peace." 

33-34.  more  dishonourable  .  .  .  ancient.  Johnson  explains 
"  more  ragged,  though  less  honourably  ragged,  than  an  old  ancient " 
(i.e.  an  old  standard). 

38.  draff,  refuse,     a  mad  fellow,  a  wag;  cf.  1.  55  below. 

43.  flat,  certain. 

43-44.  the  villains  .  .  .  gyves  on,  the  wretched  creatures  walk 
with  their  legs  far  apart,  as  though  they  had  fetters  on  their  ankles. 

46.  There's  but.  This  is  Rowe's  emendation  of  the  There's 
not  of  the  Qq  and  Ff. 

61.  Daventry,  a  municipal   borough  in   Northamptonshire,  on 
the  road  from  London  to  Shrewsbury. 

61-52.   all  one,  unimportant. 

62.  linen  ...  on  every   hedge.     The  stealing  of  linen   hung 
out  to  bleach  on  the  hedges  was  one  of  the  accomplishments  of 
Autolycus  (The  Winters  Tale,  iv.  3.  5-8). 

63.  blown,  inflated,  fat. 
guilt,  flock-bed. 

67.  /  cry  you  mercy,  I  crave  pardon  for  not  addressing  you 
before. 

61.  powers,  soldiers,  forces. 
63.  looks  for,  expects. 
away  all  night.  The  Ff  read  airay  all  to-night. 

71.  good  enough  to  toss,  good  enough  to  be  impaled  on  the 
enemy's  pikes. 

72.  pit,  grave. 

75.  bare,  ragged.  Falstaff  (1.  77)  takes  bare  in  the  sense  of 
lean. 

80.  three  fingers  on  the  ribs,  with  ribs  covered  with  fat  to  the 
thickness  of  three  fingers. 

86-86.  To  the  latter  .  .  .  guest.  One  who  is  a  poor  fighter  but 
a  good  eater  had  better  arrive  when  the  fighting  is  over  and  the  feast 
is  about  to  begin. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  183 


SCENE  3 

We  have  now  reached  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury.  Hot- 
spur, seconded  by  Douglas,  who  is  in  many  ways  an  understudy 
to  the  famous  Percy,  urges  that  the  battle  be  fought  the  same 
evening.  Worcester  and  Vernon  counsel  delay,  and,  thanks  to  the 
arrival  of  Sir  Walter  Blunt,  bearing  messages  from  the  king,  they 
carry  their  point,  though  Hotspur  and  Douglas  remain  uncon- 
vinced of  the  wisdom  of  such  delay.  The  charges  brought  by  Hot- 
spur against  the  king,  like  the  similar  charges  of  Worcester  in 
Act  v,  scene  1,  are  unanswerable;  the  whole  conduct  of  the  play 
of  Richard  II  bears  witness  to  their  truth.  Their  formal  statement 
here  serves  to  connect  the  two  plays  more  closely. 

7.  You  speak  it  out  of  fear  .  .  .  Douglas,  who  is  a  mere 
war-dog,  can  see  in  strategic  policy  only  an  exhibition  of  fear. 

10.   well-respected  honour,  dictates  of  honor  duly  considered. 

14.  Content.  Not  agreed,  but  rather  "  be  content  to  postpone 
the  battle  until  to-morrow." 

17.  leading,  generalship. 

19.   expedition,  ability  to  make  a  rapid  advance. 

21.  horse,  cavalry. 

22.  their  pride  and  mettle  is  asleep,  their  high  spirits  and  keen- 
ness are  dulled. 

26.  In  general,  for  the  most  part. 
journey-bated,  tired  with  the  journey. 

35.  deservings,  merits. 

36.  quality,  fellowship,  party. 

38.  defend,  forbid. 

39.  out  of  limit  and  true  rule,  acting  in  deBance  of  law  and  good 
government. 

40.  You  stand  against  anointed  majesty.     Sir  Walter  Blunt's 
allegiance  to  Henry  IV  is  something  more  than  a  personal  matter. 
He  sees  in  Henry  "  anointed  majesty,"    the  divinely  chosen  repre- 
sentative of  the  common-weaL 

41.  charge,  commission,  duty. 

The  king  hath  sent  to  know.  .  .  .  We  discover  from  Blunt's 
words  that  Henry  has  the  interests  of  England  much  more  at  heart 
than  have  the  rebels,  who  propose  to  divide  the  country  between 
them.  He  shrinks  from  the  thought  of  bloodshed  and  civil  war, 
desires  to  know  the  grievances  of  his  enemies,  and  is  ready  to  treat 
them  with  the  utmost  generosity,  if  war  may  thereby  be  prevented. 

42.  griefs,  grievances,    whereupon,  upon  what  charges. 


184  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FIVB 

51.  suggestion,  instigation. 

56.  was  not  six  and  twenty  strong,  had  loss  than  twenty-six 
followers.  Holinshed  mentions  "  three  wore  "  as  tlie  number  of 
Boliugbroke's  followers  on  his  arrival  at  Ravenspurgh. 

67.  Sick  in  the  world's  regard,  despised  by  the  world. 

62.  To  sue  his  livery,  to  seek  the  delivery  of  his  inheritance. 
During  Bolingbroke's  exile,  his  father,  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lan- 
caster, had  died  (see  Richard  II),  and  by  the  laws  of  feudal  tenure 
the  property  of  the  dead  man  was  in  the  hands  of  the  court  of  wards 
until  such  time  as  the  heir  should  come  to  claim  it.  The  heir 
who  thus  put  in  his  claim  was  said  to  "  sue  out  his  livery."  (  f. 
Richard  II,  ii.  3.  1*9-130: 

"  I  am  denied  to  sue  my  livery  here, 
And  yet  my  letters-patent  give  me  leave." 

68.  The  more  and  less,  the  nobles  and  the  common  people. 
with  cap  and  knee,  submissively,  kneeling  before  him  with  cap  in 

hand. 

70.  Attended  him,  waited  upon  him. 

stood  in  lanes,  i.e.  stood  in  narrow  roads  where  they  could  best 
speak  to  him.  Cf.  Measure  for  Measure,  iv.  6.  10-11,  where  Friar 
Peter  advises  Isabella,  who  desires  to  intercept  the  duke,  to  stand 
"  where  you  may  have  such  vantage  on  the  duke,  He  shall  not 
pass  you." 

72.  Gave  him  .  .  .  follow'd  him.  This  is  Malone's  punctuation 
of  the  verse;  the  (}q  and  Ff  read,  Gare  him  their  heirs,  as  pages 
follow'd  him. 

74.  os  greatness  knows  itself,  when  his  importance  came  to  be 
recognized,  knows  itself,  makes  itself  known. 

79.  certain,  particular,     strait,  exacting. 

82.   by  this  face,  by  this  appearance  of  clemency. 

85.  me.  This  is  one  of  the  many  instances  in  this  play  of  Shake- 
speare's use  of  the  ethical  dative. 

87.  In  deputation,  as  his  deputies. 

88.  was  personal  in,  was  personally  engaged  in. 

92.   in  the  neck  of,  following  immediately  upon,     task'd,  taxed. 

95.  engaged,  kept  as  a  hostage.  The  word  is  used  with  the  same 
meaning  in  v.  2.  44 :  "  And  Westmoreland,  that  was  engaged,  did 
bear  it."  The  abstract  term  is  used  here,  as  often  in  Shakespeare, 
for  the  concrete.  Hotspur's  allusion  is  apparently  to  the  "  certain 
lord  "  who  questioned  him  at  Holmedon  (i.  8.  33). 

98.   intelligence,  spies. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  185 

103.   This  head  of  safety,  this  band  of  conspirators  raised  as  a 
means  of  safety. 
108.   impawned,  given  as  a  pledge. 

SCENE  4 

This  scene,  except  in  so  far  as  it  shows  the  weakness  of  the  con- 
federates, has  no  very  direct  bearing  upon  the  play.  It  serves, 
however,  as  a  useful  connecting  link  between  1  Henry  IV  and 
2  Henry  IV,  the  Archbishop  of  York  being  one  of  the  chief  leaders 
of  the  second  part  of  the  rebellion,  with  the  story  of  which  the  latter 
play  is  concerned. 

1.  Sir  Michael.     This  was  probably  the  Archbishop's  chaplain, 
to  whom  "  Sir  "  is  used  as  a  title  of  courtesy.    Cf .  Sir  Oliver  Martext, 
the  hedge-parson  in  As  You  Like  It.     brief,  letter,  document. 

2.  the  lord  marshal.    This  was  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  whose  quarrel  with  Bolingbroke  is  set  forth  at  the  beginning 
of  Richard  II.     Marshal  is  a  trisyllable  here ;  see  Appendix,  p.  205. 

10.  Must  bide  the  touch,  must  be  put  to  the  test. 

13.  Lord  Harry,  Harry  Percy. 

15.   in  the  first  proportion,  of  the  first  magnitude. 

17.  a  rated  sinew,  a  highly  estimated  source  of  strength. 

31.  moe,  more. 

corrivals,  knights  that  emulate  each  other  in  deeds  of  prowess. 

dear,  prized. 

ACT  V  — SCENE  1 

• 

As  we  enter  upon  the  last  act,  we  find  the  two  armies  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Shrewsbury  in  the  early  morning  of  the  day  of 
battle.  Shakespeare  is  fond  of  referring  to  the  climatic  conditions 
of  the  day  on  which  some  great  battle  is  to  be  fought.  We  find  a 
similar  reference  before  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field,  at  the  end  of 
Richard  III.  There  is,  too,  a  suggestion  here  of  a  certain  accord 
between  the  forces  of  Nature  and  the  armed  forces  of  the  two  com- 
bating parties.  The  scenic  background  to  the  battlefield  is  one  of 
wind  and  tempest,  and  Nature  is  represented  as  sympathizing  with 
the  turmoils  of  men. 

The  charges  brought  by  Worcester  against  the  king  are  substan- 
tially the  same  as  those  with  which  we  are  already  acquainted,  and 
in  adducing  them  at  this  point  Shakespeare  is  only  amplifying 
Holinshed's  story.  The  offer  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  engage 


186  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Acr  Fiv« 

in  single  combat  with  the  peerless  Hotspur  bears  witness  to  his  gal- 
lantry, as  his  high  praise  of  Hotspur  does  to  his  generosity  of  mind 
Chivalrous  as  Hotspur  is,  the  chivalry  of  the  prince  is  of  a  finer 
temper.  While  the  latter  pays  a  high  tribute  to  his  rival's  valor. 
Hotspur  refuses  to  see  in  the  prince  anything  but  a  madcap  and  a 
libertine. 

The  rapid  progress  and  the  martial  excitement  of  the  latter  half 
of  the  play  does  not  allow  whole  scenes  to  be  alloted  to  the  Falstaff 
prose  comedy.  The  most  that  Shakespeare  can  grant  us  is  a  prose 
episode  at  the  close  of  the  scenes.  But  though  confined  to  a  narrow 
compass,  the  wit  and  humor  of  FaLstaff  are  as  dazzling  as  in  the 
longer  scenes  laid  in  the  Boar's  Head  Tavern.  His  catechism  on  the 
tyranny  of  honor  is  a  noble  apologia  for  his  conduct  when  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  "  hot  termagant  Scot,  Douglas." 

The  historical  incidents  of  this  scene  are  recorded  by  Holinshed  as 
follows :  "  Now  when  the  two  armies  were  incamped,  the  one 
against  the  other,  the  earle  of  Worcester  and  the  lord  Persie  with 
their  complices  sent  the  articles  (whereof  I  spake  before)  by  Thomas 
Caiton,  and  Thomas  Salvain  esquiers  to  King  Henrie,  under  their 
hands  and  sealls,  which  articles  in  effect  charged  him  with  manifest 
perjurie,  in  that  (contrarie  to  his  oth  received  upon  the  evangelists 
at  Doncaster,  when  he  first  entred  the  realme  after  his  exile)  he 
had  taken  upon  him  the  crowne  and  roiall  dignitie,  imprisoned 
King  Richard,  caused  him  to  resigne  his  title,  and  finallie  to  be 
murthered.  Diverse  other  matters  they  laid  to  his  charge,  as  lev- 
ieng  of  taxes  and  tallages,  contrarie  to  his  promise,  infringing  of 
lawes  and  customes  of  the  realme,  and  suffering  the  earle  of  March  to 
remaine  in  prison,  without  travelling  to  have  him  delivered.  All 
which  things  they  as  procurors  and  protectors  of  the  commonwealth, 
took  upon  them  to  proove  against  him,  as  they  protested  unto  the 
whole  world. 

"  King  Henrie  after  he  had  read  their  articles  with  the  defiance 
which  they  annexed  to  the  same,  answered  the  esquiers  that  he 
was  readie  with  dint  of  sword  and  fierce  bat  tell  to  proove  their 
quarrell  false,  and  nothing  else  than  a  forged  matter,  not  doubting 
but  that  God  would  aid  and  assist  him  in  his  righteous  cause,  against 
the  disloiall  and  false  forsworne  traitors.  The  next  daie  in  the 
morning  earlie,  being  the  even  of  Marie  Magdalene,  they  set  their 
battels  in  order  on  both  sides,  and  now  whilest  the  warriors  looked 
when  the  token  of  battell  should  be  given,  the  ubh.it  of  Shrewsburie, 
and  one  of  the  clearks  of  the  privie  scale,  were  sent  from  the  king 
unto  the  Persies,  to  offer  them  pardon  if  they  would  come  to  any 


SCENE  ONE] 


NOTES 


187 


reasonable  agreement.  By  their  persuasions,  the  Lord  Henrie 
Persie  began  to  give  eare  unto  the  kings  offers,  and  so  sent  with  them 
his  uncle  the  earle  of  Worcester,  to  declare  unto  the  king  the  causes 
of  those  troubles,  and  to  require  some  effectuall  reformation  in  the 
same."  • 

Enter  the  King.  ...  In  Qq  and  Ff  the  "  Earle  of  Westmore- 
land "  is'  among  the  persons  entering  with  the  king.  But  Malone 
pointed  out  that  the  earl  was  at  this  time  in  the  rebel  camp  as  a 
hostage  for  Worcester's  safe  return  (see  iv.  3.  108-109  and  v.  2. 
29,  32,  44). 

2.  busty,  bushy,  woody. 

3.  his,  i.e.  the  sun's. 
distemperature,  distempered  condition. 

southern  wind,  the  storm  wind,  as  elsewhere  in  Shakespeare. 

4.  Doth  play  .  .  .  purposes,  announces  the  sun's  intentions. 

13.  our  old  limbs.  King  Henry  was  in  reality  only  thirty-seven 
years  of  age  at  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  Prince  Henry 
being  a  boy  of  sixteen ;  but  Shakespeare  makes  father  and  son  a 
good  deal  older  than  this. 

17.    "  Will  you  return  to  that  path  of  obedience  ?"    orb,  orbit. 

19.  an  exhaled  meteor.  The  king  contrasts  the  erratic  course 
of  the  meteor  with  the  regular  course  of  the  planets  moving  in  their 
"  obedient  orb."  The  belief  was  that  meteors  were  exhalations 
or  evaporations  from  the  earth  caused  by  the  sun's  heat.  Cf .  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  iii.  513,  "  It  is  some  meteor  that  the  sun  exhales." 

21.  broached  .  .  .  times,  mischief  which  will  run  its  course  in  the 
future.  The  figure  is  that  of  broaching  or  tapping  a  cask  of  ale. 

24.  entertain,  occupy. 

26.   the  day  of  this  dislike,  this  unpleasant  day. 

28.  Rebellion  lay  .  .  .  found  it.    It  is  instructive  to  notice  that 
Falstaff  is  present  on  this  formal  occasion  and  associating  with  the 
highest  in  the  land.     We  are  prone  to  connect  Falstaff  with  Bar- 
dolph  and  Dame  Quickly,  and  to  forget  that  a  wide  social  gulf  sep- 
arated him  from  these.     In  reality  Falstaff  was  a  knight  of   high 
standing.     In  his  youth  he  had  been  page  to  Mowbray,  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  and  had  lived  on  terms  of  familiarity  with  the  great  John 
of  Gaunt  himself  (see  2  Henry  IV,  iii.  2). 

Falstaff's  remark  here  is  an  aside  to  the  Prince. 

29.  chewet,  chough,  jackdaw ;  Fr.  chonette.     The  word  is  thought 
to  be  used  in  the  sense  of  "  chatterer." 

32.  remember,  remind. 

34.  my  staff  of  office.    Cf.  Richard  II,  ii.  2.  56-61 : 


188  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Fiv* 

"  liu.iliy.    Why  have  you  not  pnx-laim'd  Northumberland 
And  all  the  rest  revolted  faction  traitors  ? 

(ireen.    We  have :   whereupon  the  Karl  of  Worcester 
Hutli  broke  hi*  staff,  resigu'd  his  stewardship, 
And  all  the  household  servants  Bed  with  him . 
To  Bolingbroke." 

The  staff  of  office  which  Worcester  broke  at  this  time  was  that  of 
steward  of  the  king's  house. 

44.  new-faWn  right,  the  claim  to  the  Duchy  of  Lane-aster,  which 
was  Bolingbroke's  on  the  death  of  his  father. 

49.   the  absent  king.     Richard  was  then  in  Ireland. 

61.  sufferances,  sufferings. 

52.  contrarious,  contrary. 

58.  Forgot  .  .  .  at  Doncaster.  Holinshed's  account  of  this  is  as 
follows :  "  At  his  comming  unto  Doncaster,  the  earle  of  Northum- 
berland, and  his  sonne  sir  Henry  Persie,  wardens  of  the  marches 
against  Scotland,  with  the  earle  of  Westmerland,  came  unto  him, 
where  he  sware  unto  those  lords,  that  he  would  demand  no  more 
but  the  lands  that  were  to  him  descended  by  inheritance  from  his 
father,  and  in  right  of  his  wife." 

60.  that  ungentle  gull.  A  gull  in  Elizabethan  English  usually 
means  a  fool,  a  dupe,  as  in  the  title  of  Dekker's  well-known  work, 
The  GutTs  Hornbook.  Here,  however,  it  is  used  in  the  sense  of 
"  nestling."  References  to  the  nesting  habits  of  the  cuckoo  are 
common  in  Shakespeare,  the  following  verses  uttered  by  the  Fool 
in  King  Lear  coming  very  near  to  the  passage  here : 

"  The  hedge-sparrow  fed  the  cuckoo  so  long, 
That  it  had  it  head  bit  off  by  it  young  "  (i.  4.  235-436). 

64.  of  swallowing,  of  l>eing  swallowed. 

67.   opposed,  opposed  to  you  as  enemies. 

69.  dangerous  countenance,  threatening  demeanor. 

71.  younger  enterprise,  your  attempt  to  be  reinstated  in  your 
possessions  as  your  father's  heir. 

72.  articulate,    articulated,    set    forth    in    articles.     Holinshed 
and  Hall  give  a  long  list  of  grievances,  formally  drawn  up  by  the 
rebellious  party,  and  submitted  to  the  king. 

74.  To  face,  to  trim  or  edge  a  garment. 

76.  discontents,  discontented  persons. 

77.  rub  the  elbow.     This  was  a  way  of  expressing  satisfaction. 

78.  hurlyburly,  tumultuous. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  189 

79.  want,  lack. 

80.  water-colours.    The  reference  is  to  the  faintness  and  tran- 
sitoriness  of  water-color  paiatings  as  compared  with  those  in  oil. 

81.  starving  for,  dying  for,  longing  for. 

87.  by  my  hopes,  I  swear  by  my  hope  of  heaven. 

88.  This  present  .  .  .  head,  not  being  set  down  against  him. 
96.    Yet  this,  supply  "  I  assert." 

100.  Try  fortune  with  him  in  a  single  fight.     The  prince's  offer 
to  engage  in  single  combat  with  Hotspur  is  Shakespeare's  own  addi- 
tion to  the  story.     The  offer  shows  alike  the  prince's  bravery  and 
his  desire  to  spare  the  lives  of  the  people.     For  the  delivering  of  the 
challenge,  see  v.  2.  47. 

101.  so  dare  we  venture  thee,  we  dare  to  stake  your  life  in  this 
encounter. 

103.  No,  good  Worcester.     The  king  harks  back  to  the  thought 
with  which  his  last  speech  ended. 

104.  We  love  our  people  well.  .  .  .    These  words  furnish  yet 
another  indication  of  the  king's  love  for  his  subjects,  loyal  or  rebel- 
lious, and  of  his  desire  to  spare  their  lives.      His  bearing  in  the  scenes 
of  negotiation  before  the  battle  is  wholly  kingly. 

106.  upon  your  cousin's  part ,  through  the  influence  of  your  cousin 
Hotspur. 

111.  Rebuke,  punishment,     wait  on  us,  are  our  attendants. 

116.   both  together,  united  as  they  are. 

119.  on  their  answer,  after  receiving  their  refusal  to  submit. 

121-122.   bestride  me,  stand  above  me  and  defend  me. 

122.  so,  good,    friendship,  act  of  friendship. 

127.    owest  God  a  death.     Falstaff  puns  on  death  and  debt. 

132.  prick  me  off,  slay. 

133.  set  to  a  leg,  mend  a  broken  leg. 

134.  grief,  pain. 

140.   insensible,  unable  to  be  grasped  by  the  senses. 

142.  suffer  it,  suffer  it  to  live. 

143.  scutcheon,  a  coat  of  arms  borne  in  funeral  processions  and 
hung  upon  the  walls  of  churches. 

SCENE  2 

The  story  of  Worcester's  treachery  in  not  imparting  the  king's 
terms  to  Hotspur  is  based  on  the  words  of  Holinshed,  but  the 
motives  that  are  ascribed  to  Worcester  for  keeping  the  matter  secret 
are  of  Shakespeare's  own  devising.  Holinshed  writes :  "  It  was 


190  KING   HENRY  THE   FOrRTH     [ACT  FIVB 

reported  for  a  truth,  that  now  when  the  king  had  condescended 
unto  all  that  was  reasonable  at  his  hands  to  be  required,  and  seemed 
to  humble  himselfe  more  than  was  meet  for  his  estate,  the  carle  of 
Worcester  (upon  his  returne  to  his  nephue)  made  relation  clean 
contraric  to  that  the  king  had  said,  in  such  sort  that  he  set  his 
nephues  hart  more  in  displeasure  towards  the  king,  than  ever  it  was 
before,  driving  him  by  that  meanes  to  fight  whether  he  would  or 
not." 

8.  Suspicion.  The  Qq  and  Ff  read  supposition.  The  emenda- 
tion is  Howe's. 

stuck  full  of  eyes.  "  An  allusion  to  Argus,  son  of  Agenor,  who 
had  a  hundred  eyes,  which,  after  his  death,  Hera  transplanted  to 
the  tail  of  the  peacock,  her  favourite  bird  "  (Deighton). 

12.  sad,  seriously. 

13.  misquote,  misread. 

18.  an  adopted    .  .  .  privilege,    a    privileged   nickname,    viz. 
Hotspur. 

19.  governed  by  a  spleen,  mastered  by  an  impetuous  disposition. 
21.   we  did  train  him  on.     The  Earl  of  Westmoreland  had  so 

explained  to  the  king  Percy's  refusal  to  surrender  the  prisoners 
(i.  1.  96-99).  train,  lure. 

29.  Deliver  up  .  .  .  Westmoreland.  Westmoreland  had  been 
in  Percy's  hands  as  hostage  during  the  negotiations.  See  iv.  3. 
108-109. 

31.  bid,  offer,    presently,  immediately,  as  often  used  by  Shake- 
speare and  other  writers  of  this  period. 

32.  Defy  .  .  .  Westmoreland,  let  the  returning  hostage  carry  to 
him  our  defiance. 

35.  no  seeming  mercy,  not  even  a  pretence  of  mercy. 
44.   engaged,  delivered  up  as  hostage.     See  note  on  iv.  3.  95. 
46.    Which  cannot  choose  but,  which  cannot  do  otherwise  than. 
49.  draw  short  breath,  gasp  in  the  fight. 

51.  tasking.     This  is  the  reading  of  Q  1  only  ;   the  later  Quartos 
read  talking.     If  we  accept  tasking,  the  sentence  means,  "  How  does 
his  summons  (his  call  to  the  task  of  fighting)  sound?  " 

52.  /  never  in  my  life.  .  .  .     Vernon's  praise  of  the  prince,  and 
Hotspur's  contemptuous  and  ungenerous  reply,  is  in  almost  exact 
imitation  of  the  message  in  iv.  1.  105-124. 

57.  Trimm'd  up,  decked  out,  recounted. 

58.  deservings  like  a  chronicle,  as  truly  and  fully  as  a  chronicle. 
60.   By  still  .  .  .  with  you,  by  always  declaring  that  words  of 

praise  were  not  sufficient  to  represent  your  merits. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  191 

62.   cital,  recital,  statement. 

64-66.  As  if  .  .  .  instantly,  as  though  he  had  suddenly  acquired 
the  power  both  of  instructing  his  truant  youth  (teaching)  and  of 
profiting  by  that  instruction  (learning). 

67.  envy,  ill-will,  malice. 

68.  owe,  own,  possess. 

69.  So  much  .  .  .  wantonness,  whose  riotous  behavior  has  been 
so  wrongly  interpreted. 

72.  libertine.  This  is  Capell's  judicious  emendation  of  the  libertie 
of  the  Qq. 

75.  That  he  .  .  .  courtesy,  so  that  he  shall  tremble  at  the  reception 
I  shall  give  him. 

77-79.  Better  consider  .  .  .  persuasion,  you  can  yourselves  pre- 
pare your  minds  for  the  fight  much  better  than  I,  who  am  no  orator, 
can  kindle  your  ardor  by  the  force  of  my  eloquence. 

83-85.  To  spend  .  .  .  hour,  if  the  life  of  man  did  not  extend 
beyond  a  single  hour,  it  would  still  be  of  too  long  duration  to  permit 
meanness  to  enter  into  it. 

87.  brave  death,  it  will  be  a  brave  death. 

88.  for  our  consciences,  as  far  as  our  consciences  are  concerned. 

89.  the  intent  of  bearing  them,  the  purpose  for  which  we  bear 
them. 

92.  For  7 ...  talking,  talking  is  not  my  profession. 

97.  Esperance,  a  word  of  four  syllables,  as  in  French  verse. 
See  note  on  ii.  3.  74.  Holinshed,  in  describing  the  battle  of  Shrews- 
bury, writes  :  "  Then  suddenlie  [they]  blew  the  trumpets,  the  kings 
part  crieng  S.  George  upon  them,  the  adversaries  cried  Esperance 
Persic,  and  so  the  two  armies  furiouslie  joined." 

100.  heaven  to  earth.     I  wager  heaven  against  earth. 

SCENE  3 

Tn  his  representation  of  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  Shakespeare 
claims  the  dramatist's  license  of  altering  in  some  measure  the  his- 
torical narrative  to  suit  his  dramatic  purpose.  It  is  Prince  Henry's 
hour  of  triumph,  and  Shakespeare,  in  his  great  love  for  the  prince, 
makes  every  incident  in  the  fight  contribute  to  that  triumph.  Of 
the  prince's  rescue  of  his  father,  and  his  subsequent  victory  over 
Hotspur,  Holinshed  says  nothing,  though  he  speaks  eloquently  of 
his  valor.  The  portion  of  Holinshed's  narrative  which  Shake- 
speare has  used  reads  as  follows : 

"  The  prince  that  daie  holpe  his  father  like  a  lustie  yoong  gentle- 


1JW  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [Act  Five 

man :  for  although  he  was  hurt  in  the  face  with  an  arrow,  so  that 
diverse  noble  men  that  were  about  him,  would  have  conveied  him 
fi Mirth  of  the  field,  yet  he  would  not  suffer  them  so  to  doo,  least  his 
departure  from  amongst  hi.s  men  might  Itappilic  have  striken  some 
feu  re  into  their  harts:  and  so  without  regard  of  his  hurt,  he  con- 
tinued with  hi.s  men,  and  never  ccassed,  cither  to  fight  where  the 
buttell  was  most  hot  or  to  incourage  his  men  where  it  seemed  most 
need.  This  Iwittell  lasted  three  long  houres  with  indifferent  fortune 
on  both  parts,  till  at  length,  the  king  crieng  Saint  (ieorge  victorie, 
brake  the  arniie  of  hi.s  enimies,  and  adventured  so  farre,  that  (as 
some  write)  the  earle  Dowglus  strake  him  downe,  nnd  at  that  instant 
slue  Sir  Walter  Blunt,  and  three  other,  apparreled  in  the  king's 
sute  and  clothing,  saieng :  I  marvcll  to  see  so  many  kings  thus 
suddenlie  arise  one  in  the  necke  of  an  other.  The  king  in  deed  was 
raised,  and  did  that  daie  manic  a  noble  feat  of  armes,  for  as  it 
is  written,  he  .slue  that  daic  with  his  owne  hands  six  and  thirtic 
persons  of  his  enimies.  The  other  on  his  part,1  incouraged  by  his 
doings,  fought  valiantlie,  and  slue  the  lord  Persie,  called  sir  Henrie 
Hotspurre.  To  conclude,  the  king's  enimies  were  vanquished,  and 
put  to  Sight,  in  which  flight,  the  earle  of  Dowglas,  for  hast,  falling 
from  the  crag  of  an  hie  mountcine,  brake  one  of  his  cullions,  and 
was  taken,  and  for  his  valiantnessc,  of  the  king  freclic  and  franklie 
delivered." 

In  treating  his  material  Shakespeare's  plan  was  to  withdraw  from 
the  king  his  share  in  the  victory  and  give  it  to  the  prince.  Shake- 
speare tells  us  nothing  of  the  king's  gallant  bearing  in  the  fight,  of 
which  Holinshed  gives  so  full  an  account.  We  hear  only  of  the 
prince's  heroism  ;  further,  the  act  of  pardon  granted  by  the  king  to 
Douglas  is  in  the  play  the  gift,  not  of  the  king,  but  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  Holinshed,  again,  makes  no  mention  of  Prince  John's 
share  in  the  battle,  but  Shakespeare  introduces  him  in  order  that 
his  bravery  may  serve  as  a  foil  to  the  greater  bravery  of  his  elder 
brother. 

2.  crassest  me,  crossest  my  path. 

3.  Upon  my  head,  at  my  cost. 

7-8.  The  Lord  .  .  .  likeness,  Lord  Stafford  has  purchased  his 
resemblance  to  thee  at  the  cost  of  his  life. 

21.  Semblably  furnish' d  like,  resembling  in  his  equipment. 

22.  A  fool  .  .  .  goes.     To  avoid  calling  a  person  a  fool,  in  obe- 
dience to  the  biblical  injunction,  this  and  other  circumlocutions  were 

1  The  real  of  tue  king's  men. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  193 

employed.  The  meaning  is,  "  You  were  a  fool  to  invite  death  by 
disguising  yourself  as  the  king."  Cf.  Loves  Labour  s  Lost,  v.  2. 
371-372 : 

"  I  dare  not  call  them  fools ;   but  this  I  think, 
When  they  are  thirsty,  fools  would  fain  have  drink." 

whither,  whithersoever.  Cf.  Henry  V,  ii.  3.  7-8 :  "  Would  I 
were  with  him,  wheresome'er  he  is,  either  in  heaven  or  in  hell !  " 

25.  The  king  hath  many.  .  .  .  Daniel,  in  his  Civil  Wars,  iv.  51, 
is  still  more  precise : 

"  For  Henry  had  divided  (as  it  were) 
The  person  of  himself  into  four  parts ; 
To  be  less  known,  and  yet  known  everywhere, 
The  more  to  animate  his  people's  hearts." 

in  his  coats,  in  armor  like  his  own. 

29.  soldiers  stand  .  .  .  day,  the  position  of  our  soldiers  is  favor- 
able for  victory. 

30.  shot-free  at  London.     This   is   another   form   of   scot-free. 
Hal  "  had  paid  all  there  "  (i.e.  when  he  had  called  "  my  hostess 
of  the  tavern  .  .  .  to  a  reckoning  "  (i.  2.  54-55). 

31.  scoring.     Falstaff  uses  the    word  in    the  two    senses    of: 
(1)  keeping  an  account  of  money  owed;   (2)  hacking. 

33.  there's  honour  for  you!  Falstaff  is  thinking  of  his  catechism 
on  honor. 

here 's  no  vanity  !  Said  ironically  for  "  here  is  vanity  indeed." 
36-37.  /  have  led  my  ragamuffins.  ...  It  has  been  pointed 
out  by  those  who  are  eager  to  defend  Falstaff  from  the  charge  of 
cowardice  that  he  has  not  shrunk  from  the  perils  of  the  fight,  but 
has  led  his  men  where  the  battle  was  hottest.  But  is  Falstaff  to  be 
believed  ? 

39.  and  they  are  .  .  .  life,  and  they  will  have  to  live  at  the  gates 
of  London  and  maintain  themselves  by  beggary. 

44.  Whose  deaths;  the  antecedent  is  "  many  a  nobleman." 
46.  Turk  Gregory.  Falstaff  has  in  mind  the  famous  Hildebrand, 
who  took  the  papal  name  of  Gregory  VII.  Protestant  writers  of  the 
sixteenth  century  attributed  to  him  the  cruelty  of  the  Turk.  In 
Hudibras  (i.  254)  we  are  reminded  of  the  Puritan  antipathy  to  the 
Turk  and  the  Pope : 

"  And  sung,  as  out  of  tune,  against, 
As  Turk  and  Pope  are  by  the  saints." 


194  KING   HENRY  THE    FWRTH     [ACT  FIVE 

48.  paid,  kill.-.!. 

made  him  sure,  dispatched.  The  Prince  in  his  reply  takes  rare 
in  the  sense  "  to  l>e  relied  upon."  C'f.  Much  Ado,  i.  3.  71,  "  You 
are  both  sure,  and  will  assist  me?  "  "  To  the  death,  my  lord." 

57-58.  What,  is  it .  .  .  now?  For  once  Falstaff's  pleasantry  does 
not  prove  welcome  to  the  prince. 

69.  pierce;  pronounce  "  perce." 

61.  carbonado,  a  rasher  of  meat.     Cf.  Coriolanug,  iv.  5.  198-199 : 
"  Before  Corioli  he  scotched  him  and  notched  him  like  a  carbonado." 

62.  grinning  honour,  the  honor  of  grinning  death.     Falstaff  harps 
on  the  word  honor,  mindful  of  his  catechism  on  honor  in  v.  1. 

SCENE  4 

The  passage  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle  on  which  this  scene  is 
based  has  already  been  quoted,  and  the  reader's  attention  has  been 
drawn  to  the  modifications  made  by  Shakespeare.  The  dramatic 
action  here  arrives  at  its  climax ;  the  rival  Harries  meet  in  single 
combat,  and  victory  rests  with  the  "  sword-and-lmckler  Prince  of 
Wales,"  for  whom  Hotspur  has  shown  such  undisguised  contempt. 
Hotspur's  death,  like  his  life,  is  honorable;  the  thought  that  death 
is  imminent  does  not  disturb  him ;  his  only  regret  is  for  the  loss  of 
honor  which  he  has  sustained  through  his  defeat.  The  prince, 
generous  as  ever  in  his  feelings  for  Hotspur,  pays  a  chivalrous  tribute 
to  his  dead  foe : 

"  this  earth  that  bears  thee  dead 
Bears  not  alive  so  stout  a  gentleman." 

We  reach  here  the  region  of  the  heroic ;  but  Shakespeare,  in  the 
rare  versatility  of  his  mind,  does  not  allow  us  to  remain  there  long. 
There  is,  in  fact,  a  rapid  descent  to  comedy  as  the  eye  of  the  prince 
turns  from  the  dead  Percy  to  the  seemingly  dead  Falstaff.  The 
words,  "  I  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man,"  exactly  express 
the  prince's  attitude  toward  the  knight,  while  the  two  verses  which 
follow  suggest  that  a  reformation  is  beginning  in  the  life  of  the 
prince;  the  old-time  vanities  of  life  are  losing  their  charm  for  him. 
Falstaff's  defense  of  his  counterfeiting  is  conceived  with  the  same 
superb  humor  as  his  catechism  on  honor ;  his  taking  upon  himself 
the  credit  of  Hotspur's  slaughter  is  a  delightful  piece  of  make-believe. 
Incidentally,  it  throws  some  light  on  KalstafTs  character.  It 
shows  that  the  main  purpose  of  all  his  lying  is  the  playing  of  a  huge 
joke.  To  maintain,  as  some  have  maintained,  that  he  wishes  his  lies 


STEVE  POUR]  NOTES  19.5 

to  be  believed  is  in  the  present  instance  preposterous,  and  the  same 
is  true  in  the  case  of  the  lies  which  he  tells  after  the  Gadshill  robbery. 
He  lies  from  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  not  with  intent  to  deceive. 

2-3.  Harry  .  .  .  thou  .  .  .  Lord  John  of  Lancaster  .  .  .  you. 
The  king  addresses  his  eldest  son  simply  as  Harry,  and  then  uses 
the  familiar  thou;  the  younger  son  is  given  his  full  title  and  is  ad- 
dressed as  you.  It  would  seem  as  though  Shakespeare  wished  to 
indicate  a  real  sense  of  comradeship  between  father  and  eldest  son  at 
this  critical  hour. 

2.  thou  bleecTst  too  much.  Holinshed  relates  that  the  prince 
was  wounded  in  the  face  by  an  arrow. 

6.   make  up,  advance  to  the  front. 

6.  amaze,  alarm. 

13.  stain'd,  blood-stained. 

15.    We  breathe  too  long,  we  take  too  long  a  respite. 

21.  at  the  point,  at  spear's  distance. 

22.  lustier  maintenance,  sturdier  endurance. 

23.  such  an  ungrown  warrior.     Prince  John  was  in  reality  only 
fourteen  years  old  at  this  time,  and  Holinshed  makes  no  reference  to 
him  in  his  account  of  the  fight. 

26.  like  Hydra's  heads.  The  reference  is  to  the  well-known 
fable  of  the  Lernean  hydra,  the  cutting  off  of  whose  nine  heads  was 
one  of  the  labors  of  Hercules. 

41.  Shirley.  Holinshed  mentions  Sir  Hugh  Shorlie  as  one  of 
those  slain  on  the  king's  side  at  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury. 

45-46.  Sir  Nicholas  Gawsey  .  .  .  Clifton.  These  are  Holins- 
hed's  Sir  Nicholas  Gausell  and  Sir  John  Clifton,  both  slain  at 
Shrewsbury  while  fighting  for  the  king. 

48.  thy  lost  opinion,  the  reputation  which  you  lost  through  your 
riotous  conduct. 

49.  makest  some  tender  of,  hast  some  regard  for. 
62.   hearken' d  for,  waited  eagerly  for  news  of. 

64.  The  insulting  hand  of  Douglas  over  you,  the  hand  of  Douglas, 
which  was  audaciously  raised  above  your  head  to  slay  you. 

55.   in  your  end,  in  accomplishing  your  death. 

65.  Two  stars  .  .  .  sphere,  "  an  allusion  to  the  Ptolemaic  system 
of  astronomy  in  which  several  spheres,  each  having  a  planet  set 
in  it,  were  supposed  to  be  swung  bodily  round  the  earth  in  twenty- 
four  hours  by  the  top  sphere,  the  primum  mobile  "  (Deighton). 

75.    Well  said,  well  done. 

77.   my  youth,  my  renown  for  youthful  prowess. 

81.   But  thought's  .  .  .fool,  thought  is  in  subjection  to  mortal 


Iftfi  KING   HENRY  THE   FOt'RTH     [ACT  FIVE 

life,  and  mortal  life  is  the  sport  of  time.  Q  1  reads  thought*,  the 
slaret  of  life,  the  words  "  the  slaves  of  life  "  being  in  apposition  to 
thoughts,  while  the  predicate  of  this,  as  well  as  of  what  follows, 
is  "  must  have  a  stop." 

83.  /  could  prophesy.  The  idea  of  the  power  of  prophecy  pos- 
sessed by  dying  men  is  best  illustrated  by  the  speeoh  of  the  dying 
(IMII nt  in  Richard  II,  ii.  1. 

92.  thee  dead.  This  is  the  reading  of  Q  7  and  Q  8 ;  the  earlier 
Quartos  read  the  dead. 

96.  dear,  hearty. 

96.  favours.  The  prince  covers  Hotspur's  face  with  the  scarf 
that  he  was  wearing  as  knightly  adornment. 

106.  should  have  a  heavy  miss  of  thee,  should  deeply  miss 
thee. 

108.  dearer,  of  greater  worth,  with,  of  course,  a  pun  on  defr. 

109.  EmbowelVd.     Embowelling  was   resorted   to   in   order  to 
preserve  the  txxly  until  it  could  be  embalmed. 

112.  powder,  salt,  pickle. 

114.  termagant.  In  the  crusading  times  Termagant  was  sup- 
posed by  crusaders  to  be  the  name  of  a  false  god  of  the  Saracens. 

116.  scot  and  lot.  This  is  still  a  current  phrase  in  England,  with 
the  force  of  "  utterly,"  "  out  and  out." 

123-124.  gunpowder  Percy.  An  admirable  epithet  to  express 
the  explosive  outbursts  that  were  so  characteristic  of  Percy. 

129.  Nothing  confutes  me  but  eyes.  Only  those  who  could  see 
us  could  prove  that  I  did  not  slay  him. 

141-142.  /  am  not  a  double  man.  Falstaff  is  carrying  Percy 
on  his  back,  and  he  applies  the  prince's  words,  "  Thou  art  not  what 
thou  seem'st,"  to  his  seemingly  double  body. 

164.   / '//  take  it  upon  my  death,  I'll  stake  my  life  upon  it. 

161.  do  thee  grace,  help  thee  to  win  the  king's  favor. 

164.   the  highest,  the  highest  part. 

SCEXE  5 

The  victory  of  the  king  is  now  complete,  and  all  that  remains  is  to 
pass  judgment  upon  the  prisoners.  Worcester  and  Vernon  are 
sentenced  to  death,  but  the  Prince  of  Wales,  generous  in  all  things, 
procures  the  freedom  of  Douglas,  and  then,  with  graceful  courtesy, 
hands  over  to  his  brother  John  the  privilege  of  delivering  the  earl 
from  prison.  The  closing  speech,  uttered  by  the  king,  reminds  us 
that  the  rebellion  is  as  yet  only -partly  quelled,  and  we  realize  that 


SCENE  FIVE] 


NOTES 


197 


in  reality  the  two  parts  of  Henry  IV  form  only  one  play  which  the 
limitations  of  time  divided  into  two  halves. 

2.  Ill-spirited,  malicious. 

4.   turn  .  .  .  contrary,  misconstrue. 

6.  tenour  .  .  .  trust,  the  nature  of  the  trust  placed  in  you  as 
kinsman  of  Percy. 

16.  Other  offenders  .  .  .  upon,  we  will  pause  before  passing 
sentence  upon  the  other  offenders. 

20.    Upon  the  foot  of  fear,  fleeing  in  fear. 

29.  His  valour  shown  .  .  .  Compare  Daniel's  History  of  the 
Civil  Wars,  iv.  56 : 

"  And  Douglas,  faint  with  wounds,  and  overthrown, 
Was  taken ;  who  yet  won  the  enemy 
Which  took  him,  (by  his  noble  valour  shown 
In  that  day's  mighty  work)  and  was  preserved 
With  all  the  grace  and  honour  he  deserved." 

33.  give  away,  announce. 
44.  leave,  cease  from  action. 


APPENDIX 

METRE i 

IN  the  strictly  dramatic  portions  of  Shakespeare's  plays  we  find 
blank  verse,  rhyming  decasyllabic  verse,  rhyming  octosyllabic  verse, 
and  prose.  The  use  of  octosyllabic  verse  is  almost  exclusively  con- 
fined to  supernatural  beings,  such  as  the  Fairies  in  A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  or  the  Witches  in  Macbeth.  The  rhyming  couplets 
of  decasyllabic  verse,  which  in  the  early  plays  are  very  frequent,  — 
in  Love's  Labour  's  Lost  there  are  almost  twice  as  many  rhyming  as 
rhymeless  verses,  —  become  more  and  more  rare  as  Shakespeare  ad- 
vanced in  his  career,  until  in  what  is  his  last,  or  almost  his  last,  play, 
The  Winter's  Tale,  they  disappear  entirely.  In  1  Henry  IV  rhyme  is 
rare,  and  is  chiefly  reserved  for  the  endings  of  some  of  the  scenes,  or 
of  speeches  which  are  followed  by  the  departure  of  the  speaker  from 
the  stage.  (See  i.  3.  301-302 ;  iii.  2.  179-180 ;  iv.  1.  131-136 ;  v.  3. 
28-29 ;  v.  4.  105-110 ;  v.  5. 41-44.)  There  remain  for  consideration 
only  blank  verse  and  prose.  As  a  general  rule,  it  will  be  found  that 
the  historical  scenes  are  in  blank  verse,  the  comic  scenes  in  prose. 
The  king,  who  is  throughout  a  formalist,  always  speaks  in  verse; 
Falstaff,  except  when  he  parodies  the  "Cambyses  vein,"  or  rounds 
off  a  scene  with  a  single  rhyming  couplet,  keeps  to  a  prose  diction ; 
Prince  Henry  and  Hotspur  use  both  verse  and  prose,  and  turn  from 
one  to  the  other  with  surprising  ease  and  readiness.  The  blank  verse 
of  Prince  Henry  in  his  soliloquy  in  i.  2,  coming  as  it  does  after  a  long 
scene  of  prose,  furnishes  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  difference  in 
character  of  these  two  forms  of  diction.  Poetry  is  the  diction  of 
tension,  prose  of  relaxation. 

1.   BLANK  VERSE 

Blank  verse  appeared  for  the  first  time  in  English  poetry  in  Lord 
Surrey's  translation  of  the  Second  and  Fourth  Books  of  the  JEneid 
(c.  1543).  Employed  for  dramatic  purposes  by  the  authors  of  Gor- 
boduc  (acted  1561),  it  was  Peele  and  Marlowe  who  first  established  it 

1  These  notes  are  chiefly  based  on  the  "  Outlines  of  Shakespeare's  Prosody," 
appended  to  Professor  Herford's  Richard  II  (Arden  Shakespeare).  The  stu- 
dent is  referred  to  these  "Outlines"  for  a  fuller  treatment  of  the  subject. 

199 


200  APPENDIX 

as  the  recognized  metre  of  dramatic  poetry.  At  the  hands  of  Shake- 
speare, blank  verse  acquired  a  suppleness  and  ease  of  movement 
unknown  to  his  predecessors,  and  the  means  by  which  these  qualities 
were  acquired  call  for  a  moment's  notice.  The  following  verses, 
which  form  the  prologue  to  Marlowe's  first  play,  Tamburlaine  (1590), 
and  also  serve  as  a  defense  of  this  new  form  of  metre,  represent  the 
chief  characteristics  of  pre-Shakespearean  blank  verse : 

"From  jigging  veins  of  rhyming  mother-wits. 
And  such  conceits  as  clownage  keeps  in  pay, 
We  '11  lead  you  to  the  stately  tent  of  war, 
Where  you  shall  hear  the  Scythian  Tamburlaine 
Threatening  the  world  with  high  astounding  terms, 
And  scourging  kingdoms  with  his  conquering  sword. 
View  but  his  picture  in  this  tragic  glass. 
And  then  applaud  his  fortunes  as  you  please." 

When  we  examine  these  verses,  we  find  that  their  tendency  is  to 
conform  too  closely  to  the  normal  type  of  blank  verse,  in  which 
unaccented  and  accented  syllables  follow  each  other  with  exact 
regularity : 

From  jig'  |  ging  veins'  |  of  rhym'  |  ing  moth'  |  er-wits'. 

Weak  accents  and  stress-inversion,  though  not  entirely  absent, 
are  rare,  and  accordingly  the  tendency  of  a  large  number  of  such 
verses  is  toward  monotony.  It  will  further  l>e  noticed  that  each 
verse  ends  with  an  emphatic  word,  and  that  there  is  a  pause  at  the 
end  of  every  verse  except  the  fourth,  and  no  pause  whatever  in  the 
middle  of  the  verses. 

Now  let  us  compare  with  this  the  following  verses  of  1  Henry  IV 
(iii.  1.  25-35) : 

"O,  then  the  earth  shook  to  see  the  heavens  on  fire, 
And  not  in  fear  of  your  nativity. 
Diseased  nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 
In  strange  eruptions ;    oft  the  teeming  earth 
Is  with  a  kind  of  colic  pinch'd  and  vex'd 
By  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wind 
Within  her  womb;    which,  for  enlargement  striving, 
Shakes  the  old  beldam  earth,  and  topples  down 
Steeples  and  moss-grown  towers.     At  your  birth 
Our  grandam  earth,  having  this  distemperature, 
In  passion  shook." 


APPENDIX  201 

If  these  verses  are  read  aloud  immediately  after  those  from  Tam- 
burlaine,  the  advance  in  flexibility  must  at  once  be  apparent. 
Examining  the  passage  more  closely,  we  observe  (1)  that  six  of  the 
eleven  verses  have  no  pause  at  the  end  of  them ;  (2)  that  on  four 
occasions  the  pause  falls  in  the  middle  of  the  verse ;  (3)  that  there 
is  an  extra  syllable  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  verse,  and  that  several 
of  the  verses  end  with  unemphatic  words  like  "forth"  and  "down" ; 
(4)  that  a  weak  stress  occurs  in  the  first  foot  in  verses  5  and  6 ; 
inversion  of  stress  in  the  first  foot  of  verses  8  and  9,  and  the  third 
foot  of  verse  7 ;  while  the  second  foot  of  verse  8  has  two  equally  ac- 
cented syllables  instead  of  one  accented  and  one  unaccented  syllable. 
There  are  several  other  variations  from  the  type  in  his  passage,  but 
the  above  will  suffice  to  illustrate  the  varied  rhythm  of  Shakespeare's 
blank  verse  at  this  period  of  his  career. 

2.  NORMAL  VARIATIONS 

We  have  next  to  consider  the  various  devices  practiced  by  Shake- 
speare in  order  to  give  to  his  verse  suppleness  and  ease.  Some  of 
these  have  already  been  hinted  at,  but  it  remains  to  consider  them 
more  exactly. 

(a)  Weak  Stresses.  —  One  of  the  simplest  devices  is  the  use  of  a 
weak  stress  instead  of  a  strong  stress  at  some  point  in  the  verse. 
Representing  the  weak  stress  by  a  grave  accent,  the  following  verses 
will  be  scanned  thus : 

As  to"  |  o'er-walk'  |  a  cur'  |  rent  roar'  |  ing  loud'  (i.  3.  192). 
Which'  the  |  proud'  soul'  |  ne'er  pays'  |  but  tov  |  the  proud'  (i.  3.  9). 

(b)  Equal  Stresses.  —  As  though  to  compensate  for  this  weak  stress, 
it  will  often  be  found  that  the  same  verse  contains  another  foot  in 
which  both  syllables  are  equally  accented.     The  last  quoted  verse 
is  a  good  illustration  of  this,  as  are  also  the  following : 

And  for*  |  whose  death'  |  we  inv  |  the  world's'  |  wide'  mouth'  (i.  3. 153). 
Of  this*  |  proud'  king',  |  who  stud'  |  ies  day'  I  and  night'  (i.  3.  184). 
To  pluck'  |  bright'  hon'  |  our  fromv  |  the  pale'-  |  faced'  moon' 

(i.  3.  202). 

(c)  Stress  Inversion.  —  Almost  as  frequent  as  the  weak  or  light 
stress  is  stress  inversion,  in  which  the  foot  is  made  up  of  an  accented 
syllable  followed  by  an  unaccented,  instead  of  vice  versa.     This 
inversion  is  chiefly  found  in  the  first,  third,  or  fourth  foot,  and  usu- 
ally follows  either  a  metrical  pause  or  a  pause  in  the  sense.     In  the 


20S  APPENDIX 

second  f<x>t  it  is  unusual,  and  still  more  so  in  the  fifth.     The  follow- 
ing are  examples  of  its  use  : 

Find'  we  |  a  time'  |  for  fright'  |  ed  j>cace'  |  to  pant'  (i.  1.  2). 
Ourhou.se',  |  my  sov'  |  ereign  liege',  |  lit'tle  |  deserves'  (i.  3.  10). 
Breath'less  |  and  faint',  j  lean'ing  |  upon'  |  my  sword'  (i.  3.  32). 

\Ve  rarely  find  two  inversions  in  succession,  and  never  three. 

(d)  Extra  Syllable*.  —  An  extra  unaccented  syllable  is  sometimes 
found  in  the  middle  of  a  verse  before  a  pause,  and  quite  commonly 
at  the  end  of  a  verse.  In  the  latter  rase  the  verse  is  said  to  have  a 
double  or  feminine  ending.  Such  double  endings  are  comparatively 
rare  in  Shakespeare's  early  plays,  but  very  common  in  his  later  ones, 
and  still  more  so  in  the  works  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  In  /  Henry 
/I",  as  indicated  in  the  Introduction  (p.  xviii),  the  double  ending  is 
peculiarly  rare,  the  percentage  of  such  endings  falling  as  low  as  5.1, 
whereas  in  £  Henry  IV  it  rises  to  10.3,  and  in  Henry  V  to  20.5.  The 
following  are  instances : 

On  Wednes'  |  day  next,'  |  Har'ry,  j  you  shall*  •  set  for'  |  ward 

(iii.  2.  173). 

1'roclaim'd'  |  at  mark'  |  et-cross'  |  es,  read'  |  in  church'  |  es  (v.  1.  73). 
But  do'  |  not  use'  |  it  oft',  |  let'  me    entreat'  ]  you  (iii.  1.  176). 

Instances  of  its  occurrence  in  the  middle  of  a  verse,  before  a 
pause,  or  at  a  break  in  the  dialogue,  are  the  following : 

Of  my'  |  young  liar'  \  ry.     O'  that    it  could'  I  be  proved'  (i.  1.  86). 

War.     Those  pris'  |  (o)ners  you*  |  shall  keep'.| 

Hot.  Nay'.  I  will';  |  that 's  flat'  (i.  3.  218). 

Make'  up  |  to  Clifton  :  1 1  '11'  to  |  Sir  Nich'  |  (o)las  Caws'  \  ey  (v.  4.58). 

With  regard  to  the  last  instance,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  Shake- 
speare allowed  himself  great  license  in  his  treatment  of  proper 
names.  It  is  often  impossible  to  subject  verses  in  which  proper 
names  occur  to  the  ordinary  metrical  rules :  such  verses  must  in 
fact  often  be  treated  as  extra-metrical. 

3.   OCCASIONAL  VARIATIONS 

fa)  Omission  of  Stresses.  —  This  is  a  far  less  usual  variation  from 
the  normal  blank  verse  than  those  noticed  above,  but  instances  are 
found  here  and  there  throughout  Shakespeare's  plays.  The 
omission  always  follows  a  distinct  pause,  frequently  that  produced 
by  a  break  in  the  dialogue : 


APPENDIX  203 

Not'  an  |  inch'  furth'  |  er.  —  |  But  hark'  ]  you,  Kate'  (ii.  3.  117). 
Before'  |  not  dreamt'  |  of. 
Hot.  You  strain'  |  too  far'  (iv.  1.  75). 

(b)  Short  Lines.  —  So  far  it  has  been  assumed  that  all  of  Shake- 
speare's verses  contain  five  feet;  this,  however,  is  not  the  case. 
Short  verses,  containing  four  or  less  feet,  occur  quite  occasionally, 
and  here  and  there  we  find  an  alexandrine  or  verse  of  six  feet.  Short 
verses,  consisting  at  times  of  a  single  foot,  are  found  at  the  com- 
mencement of  some  of  the  speeches,  especially  when  the  words  are 
in  the  nature  of  an  address  or  an  exclamation,  e.g. : 

In  faith  (i.  1.  76). 

Nay  (i.  3.  223). 

My  good  lord  (iv.  4.  6). 

Revolted  Mortimer!  (i.  3.  93). 

Other  instances  of  short  verses  are  the  following : 
At  Holmedon  met  (i.  1.  55). 
I  tell  thee  (i.  3.  115). 
Had  been  alive  this  hour  (v.  5.  8). 

Note,  too,  the  short,  abrupt  conversation  of  Hotspur  and  Lady 
Percy  in  ii.  3.  76-82,  where  the  shortness  of  the  verses  adds  to  the 
studied  abruptness  of  the  conversation. 

(c)  Alexandrines.  —  The  use  of  true  alexandrines  is  much  rarer ; 
many  verses  which  appear  to  contain  six  feet  can,  by  means  of  an  eli- 
sion of.  unaccented  syllables,  be  brought  within  the  compass  of  the 
normal  blank  verse  of  five  feet.  But  here  and  there  occur  verses 
which  cannot  be  so  compressed,  and  which  we  must  accordingly 
scan  as  alexandrines,  e.g. : 

On  some  |  great  sud  |  den  hest.  |  O,  what  |  portents  |  are  these  ? 

(ii.  3.  65). 
As  you,  |  my  lord,  |  or  an  |  y  Scot  |  that  this  |  day  lives 

(iv.  3.  12). 
Suspi  |  cion  all  |  our  lives  |  shall  be  |  stuck  full  |  of  eyes  (v.  2.  8). 

4.   APPARENT  VARIATIONS 

(a)  Accentual.  —  In  dealing  with  accentual  variation  it  is  neces- 
sary to  distinguish  between  the  native  words  and  those  of  foreign 
(Romance)  origin.  Pronominal  and  prepositional  compounds  of 
native  origin  have  frequently  a  variable  accent,  e.g. :  thereby  and 
thereby',  with' out  and  without',  some1 what  and  somewhat?.  Instances 


204  APPENDIX 

of  accentual  variation  in  the  case  of  other  native  compounds  are  less 
common  :  man' kind  and  mankind',  straightway  and  straightway1. 

In  the  case  of  Romance  words  we  find  the  accent  in  Shakespeare 
sometimes  placed  nearer  the  end  of  a  word  and  sometimes  nearer 
the  beginning  than  is  the  case  in  modern  English.  Thus  in  1  Henry 
IV  we  find  portent'  (v.  1.  20),  aspecti/  (i.  1.  97),  but  also  trireme 
(i.  3.  31)  and  miscon'strue  (v.  2.  69).  In  many  of  these  words  the 
accent,  as  is  quite  frequently  the  case  with  Chaucer,  is  variable  in 
character,  and  follows  the  requirements  of  the  metre.  Thus  Shake- 
speare uses  extreme  and  extreme1,  se'cure  and  secure1,  com'plete  and 
complete1.  Cf.  also: 

And  be  no  more  an  ex' haled  meteor  (v.  1.  19) 
with 

Let  their  exhaled'  unwholesome  breaths  make  sick  (Lucrece,  779). 

Such  variations  are  chiefly  found  in  the  case  of  adjectives,  but  in 
Richard  II  we  find  the  noun  record  accented  as  rec'ord  in  i.  1.  30,  and 
as  record'  in  iv.  1.  230. 

(6)  Syllabic.  —  The  Elizabethan  dramatists,  and  Shakespeare 
among  them,  were  fond  of  employing  such  syllabic  variation  as  the 
language  permitted,  and  the  frequency  with  which  such  variations 
are  introduced  points  to  the  great  flexibility  of  the  English  tongue 
in  Shakespeare's  time.  The  language  was,  in  fact,  much  more  pli- 
able than  it  is  to-day,  and  the  dramatists  knew  well  how  to  make 
the  most  of  this  pliability  in  order  to  secure  for  their  verse  as  com- 
plete a  freedom  of  movement  as  possible.  The  following  points, 
some  of  which  are  commonly  met  with  in  modern  poetry,  indicate 
the  chief  directions  in  which  syllabic  variation  was  possible. 

(1)  Loss  of  vowel  before  a  consonant  at  the  beginning  of  a  word 
(apharesis),  e.g.  'twixt  for  betwixt,    'friend   for  befriend,  'scape  for 
escape,  'cross  for  across  (see  Abbot's  Shakespearian  Grammar,  §  460). 
Abbot  regards  the  use  of  the  form  dial  for  recital  as  an  instance  of 
such  aphseresis  in  1  Henry  II' :   "He  made  a  blushing  dial  of  him- 
self" (v.  2.  62). 

A  very  common  form  of  aphaeresis  is  the  dropping  of  the  initial 
vowel  of  unemphatic  monosyllables  like  ia,  it.  Thus  we  find  of  it 
contracted  into  of  't  in  i.  3.  124,  took  if  into  took  't  (i.  3.  39),  that  u 
into  that  's,  etc. 

(2)  Loss  of  vowel  before  a  consonant  medially  (syncope).     Thia 
frequently  takes  place  in  the  case  of  inflections:    com'st  for  comett, 
.ihort'st  for  shortest;  also  in  the  case  of  the  middle  syllables  of  three- 
syllabled  words,  e.g. :  aff'(a)ble  (iii.  1.  168),  ab's(o)lule  (iv.  3.  50). 


APPENDIX  205 

(3)  Vowel-likes.     An  interesting  feature  of  Elizabethan  English  is 
the  use  made  of  what  are  called  vowel-likes,  i.e.  consonants  which 
partake  of  the  nature  of  vowels,  and  acquire  at  times  a  syllabic 
value.     The  letters  I,  m,  n,  and  r  could  be  either  syllabic  or  non- 
syllabic  according  to  the  requirements  of  the  verse.     The  following 
are  instances  of  the  syllabic  use  of  such  vowel-likes : 

Good  uncle,  tell  your  taje;   I'  have  done  (i.  3.  256). 
So  tell  your  cousin,  and  bring  me  word  (v.  1.  109). 
You  speak  it  out  of  fear  and  cold  heart  (iv.  3.  7). 
With  winged  haste  to  the  lord  marshal  (iv.  4.  2). 

Here  tale,  bring,  and  fear  are  rendered  dissyllabic  by  means  of  the 
vowel-likes,  I  and  r,  while  marshal  must  be  pronounced  as  though  it 
were  marishal. 

Where  the  vowel-likes  are  non-syllabic,  they  show  a  tendency  to 
cau3e  elision  of  unaccented  medial  vowels.  Thus  we  find  inn(o)- 
cency  (iv.  3. 63),  ignom(i)ny  (v.  4.  100),  del(i)ver  (1.  3.  260),  p(e)remp- 
t(o)ry  (i.  3.  17),  Hol(y)-rood  (i.  1.  52),  hostility  (iv.  3.  44).  Elision 
after  a  vowel-like  could  take  place  between  the  unaccented  syllables 
of  different  words.  This  is  especially  the  case  with  the  termination 
-able,  -Me,  e.g. : 

Let  it  be  tenable  in  your  silence  still  (Hamlet,  i.  2.  248). 

(4)  Another  frequent  form  of  contraction  occurs  in  the  case  of  two 
adjacent  vowels,  which  may,  or  may  not,  occur  in  the  same  word. 
Here  belongs  the  Shakespearean  use  of  the  suffix  -ion.      Where  a 
word  with  this  suffix  occurs  at  the  end  of  a  line,  the  suffix  is  usually 
dissyllabic ;   in  other  cases,  monosyllabic,  e.g. : 

To  keep  |  his  an  |  ger  still  |  in  mo  |  tion  (i.  3.  226). 
Come  cur  |  rent  for  |  an  ac  [  cusa  |  tion  (i.  3.  68) ; 
but 

Imag  |  ina  |  tion  of  |  some  great  |  exploit  (i.  3.  199). 

The  same  principle  is  often  observed  in  the  case  of  words  ending  in 
-ience: 

Drives  him  |  beyond  |  the  bounds  |  of  pa  |  tience  (i.  3.  200). 
Note  also  (i.  3.  64) : 

He  would  |  himself  |  have  been  |  a  sol  |  dier. 

Words  such  as  marriage,  cordial  are  usually  dissyllabic  in  Shake- 
speare, while  in  1.  2.  224  being  is  to  be  scanned  as  a  monosyllable. 
Where  the  adjacent  vowels  belong  to  different  words,  one  of  the 


206  APPENDIX 

vowels  was  often  suppressed,  e.g. :   th'  earth  (iii.  1.  24),  th'  irregular 
(i.  1.  40),  th'  one  (pronounced  thdn). 

Occasionally  we  find  that  an  intervocalic  consonant  in  a  dissyllabic 
word  undergoes  a  process  of  slurring  when  followed  by  an  unaccented 

syllable.     Instances  of  this  are  spirit  (ii.  8.  59),  hating  (iii.  1.  84), 
either  (i.  3.  27),  devil  (i.  3.  116),  father  (iii.  1.  190). 

5.   PAUSES 

In  speaking  of  the  pauses  in  blank  verse,  it  is  necessary  to  distin- 
guish between  (1)  the  metrical  pause  and  (2)  the  sense  pause.  In 
pre-Shakespearean  blank  verse  the  sense  pause  usually  coincides 
with  the  metrical  pause  (see  the  quotation  from  Tamburlaine),  but 
with  Shakespeare  this  happens  far  less  frequently.  As  we  follow 
him  through  his  career  we  find  a  growing  tendency  to  make  the 
sense  pause  fall  in  the  middle  of  a  verse  instead  of  at  the  end.  This 
non-coincidence  of  sense  pause  with  metrical  pause  is  called  enjambe- 
ment  or  overflow,  and  verses  in  which  there  is  no  sense  pause  at  the 
end  of  the  verse  are  called  "run-on"  verses,  in  opposition  to  those 
which  are  "end-stopped."  The  percentage  of  run-on  verses  in 
1  Henry  IV  is  14.2,  as  compared  with  2.9  in  Richard  III,  and  18.3 
in  Henry  V ;  in  such  late  plays  as  Cymbeline  and  The  Winter's  Tale, 
the  percentage  of  run-on  verses  rises  to  between  40  and  50. 

6.   LIGHT  AND  WEAK  ENDINGS 

Closely  bound  up  with  the  use  of  run-on  verses  in  Shakespeare 
is  his  use  of  light  and  weak  endings.1  Rare  in  the  early  plays,  these 
become  more  and  more  frequent  as  Shakespeare's  art  developed, 
though  they  are  always  much  rarer  than  the  run-on  verses.  Accord- 
ing to  Dowden's  table,  they  are  most  frequent  in  the  Shakespearean 
portions  of  Henry  VIII,  where  the  percentage  of  weak  and  light 
endings  together  reaches  7.16.  The  following  are  instances  of  the 
light  ending  in  1  Henry  IV : 

To  Owen  Glendower :   and,  dear  coz,  to  you 

The  remnant  northward  .  .  .  (iii.  1.  78-79). 

And  that  his  friends  by  deputation  could  not 

So  soon  be  drawn.  (iv.  1.  82-33). 

\\eak  endings  are  much  rarer,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  a  single 
instance  of  such  an  ending  occurs  in  the  present  play. 

1  For  the  explanation  of  these  terms,  see  Dowden's  Primer,  p.  41. 


GLOSSARY 


admiral  (iii.  3. 28).  An  admiral's 
ship,  a  flagship.  The  word  is 
from  the  Arabic,  amir,  com- 
mander, which  appears  in  Eng- 
lish under  the  forms  ameer  and 
emir;  the  final  -alis  the  Arabic 
definite  article,  which  is  pre- 
fixed to  the  root  in  alchemy, 
alkali,  etc.  The  change  from 
amiral  to  admiral  is  due  to 
confusion  with  the  Latin  prefix 
ad-.  In  the  M.  E.  oriental 
romances  the  connection  of  an 
admiral  with  the  sea  is  not  yet 
established.  Its  use  in  the 
sense  of  an  admiral's  ship  dates 
from  Elizabethan  times,  and 
is  perhaps  due  to  Italian  in- 
fluence. Florio  renders  the 
Italian  ammiraglia  as  "an 
admirall  or  chief  ship." 

an  (passim),  if.  This  is  simply 
another  form  of  and  and  is 
spelled  and  in  the  Ff .  Its  con- 
nection with  Scand.  enda  (=if) 
is  doubtful ;  it  is  most  probably 
a  development  of  the  meaning 
of  the  simple  copulative  con- 
junction. A  similar  change  of 
meaning  occurs  in  the  case  of 
the  German  und  in  its  older 
form  unde.  The  conditional 
force  of  and,  an  is  often 
strengthened  by  if  (iv.  2.  7). 

ancient  (iv.  2.  26),  standard- 
bearer,  ensign.  The  word  an- 
cient meant  originally  the 
standard  itself,  the  person 
who  bore  it  being  the  "  an- 
cient-bearer" ;  etymologically 
the  word  is  a  doublet  of  ensign , 
in  M.  E.  its  form  is  enseigne, 
O.  F.  enseigne,  Low  Lat.  in- 
signa.  Confusion  has  appar- 
ently arisen  between  the  M.  E. 


enseigne  and  ancien  (old),  O.  F. 
ancien,  Late  Lat.  antianum,  the 
resultant  form  being  ancient 
with  excrescent  -t. 

antic  (i.  2.  69),  grotesque  figure. 
Apparently  from  Ital.  antico, 
old,  but  used  as  equivalent  to 
Ital.  grottesco,  grotesque,  an 
adjective  formed  from  grotta 
(a  cavern),  and  originally  ap- 
plied to  the  fantastic  repre- 
sentations of  human  and  other 
forms  found  in  exhuming  the 
Baths  of  Titus  and  other 
Roman  remains.  In  England 
the  word  was  at  first  closely 
associated  with  the  grotesque 
forms  of  the  gargoyles  found 
on  churches ;  cf.  Hall's  Chroni- 
cle: "  Above  the  arches  were 
made  mani  sondri  antikes  and 
di vises."  Antic  is  thus  not 
developed  from  antique. 

apprehends  (i.  3.  209),  lays  hold 
of  with  the  intellect.  From 
Fr.  apprehender,  Lat.  appre- 
hendere,  to  seize.  The  idea  of 
seizing  is  still  retained  in 
Shakespeare's  use  of  the  word 
here,  and  he  distinguishes  be- 
tween apprehend  and  compre- 
hend. Deighton  adduces  the 
following  passage  from  A  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream  (v.  1. 
4-6),  in  illustration  of  the  dif- 
ference : 

Lovers    and    madmen    have    such 

seething  brains, 

Such  shaping  fantasies  that  appre- 
hend 

More  than  cool  reason  ever  com- 
prehends 

and  adds  that  "  the  mere 
apprehending,  the  seizing  upon 
an  idea,  is  contrasted  with  the 


207 


208 


GLOSSARY 


comprehending,  the  complet- 
ing by  logical  connotation,  of 
that  idea." 

arrant  (ii.  2.  105),  notorious. 
This  word  is  merely  a  variant 
of  errant.  Its  original  sense 
was  "  wandering"  (cf.  "  knight 
errant"),  whence  the  deprecia- 
tory meaning  of  "  vagrant  " 
arose.  It  was  frequently  as- 
sociated with  the  word  thief  — 
"  An  outlawe  or  a  thef  er- 
raunt  "  (Chaucer),  —  and  thus 
acquired  finally  the  meaning  of 
notorious,  thorough-paced. 

assay  (v.  4.  34),  make  trial  of. 
From  O.  F.  assayer,  <  Late  Lat. 
exagiare,  <  Lat.  exagium.  The 
form  assay  is  older  than  essay, 
which  first  appears  in  Caxton  ; 
assay  is  now  confined  in  its 
usage  to  the  testing  of  metals. 
The  original  force  of  Lat. 
exagium  is  "  a  weighing," 
whence  came  the  derivative 
meaning  "  a  testing"  ;  examine 
and  examination  (Lat.  exdtm-n 
=  exagmen)  are  from  the  same 
root. 

basilisk  (ii.  3. 56),  a  large  cannon 
made  of  brass,  and  discharging 
a  shot  of  about  2UO  pounds 
weight.  Literally,  a  fabulous 
reptile.  The  word  is  derived, 
through  Lat.  basilisctts,  from 
Gr.  Ba<riA»<r*o«,  a  diminutive  of 
BeuriAti*,  a  king.  The  reptile 
was  so  called,  according  to 
Pliny,  because  of  a  six>t  re- 
sembling a  crown  on  its  head. 

beaver  (iv.  1.  104),  the  lower 
part  of  the  face-guard  of  a 
helmet.  The  word  is  from 
O.  F.  baviere,  originally  a 
child's  bib,  from  bare,  spittle. 

bombast  (ii.  4.  359),  cotton-wool 
used  for  padding.  The  form 
bombast  is  a  variant  of  the 
obsolete  bombace,  from  Fr. 
bombace,  Lat.  bombax,  bom- 
bacem,  cotton,  a  corruption 
of  Lat.  bombyx,  Gr.  BOM£V(, 
silk-worm,  silk.  The  use  of 
the  word  bombast  in  the  sense 


of  "  inflated  language  "  is  a 
figurative  use  of  this  word  and 
has  not,  as  is  generally  sup- 
posed, sprung  from  the  name 
of  Bombast  von  Hohenheim, 
usually  known  as  Paracelsus. 

buckram  (ii.  4.  213),  coarse  linen 
stiffened  with  gum  or  paste. 
The  origin  of  the  word  is  un- 
certain, but  it  is  found  under 
varying  forms  in  most  of  the 
languages  of  Europe  between 
the  twelfth  and  fifteenth  cen- 
turies, e.g.  O.  F.  bouquerant, 
Ital.  bucherame,  M.  H.  G.  bug- 
geram.  .Some  refer  the  word 
to  the  Ital.  bucherare,  "  to 
pierce  with  holes,"  and  main- 
tain that  the  word  was  first 
applied  to  muslin.  Another 
suggested  derivation  is  Bo- 
khara. 

capering  (iii.  2.  63),  skipping. 
The  verb  "  to  caper  "  is  from 
the  noun  caper,  which  is  an 
abbreviated  form  of  capriole, 
O.  F.  capriole  (cf.  Ital.  capri- 
ola),  diminutive  of  Lat.  capra, 
a  she-goat. 

carbonado  (v.  3.  61),  a  piece  of 
meat  scored  across  and  broiled 
upon  the  coals  (Murray). 
From  Sp.  carbonado,  Lat. 
carbo,  carbonem,  coal. 

carded  (iii.  2.  62),  mixed,  de- 
based by  mixing,  adulterated. 
According  to  Murray,  this  is  a 
figurative  use  of  card,  "  to  stir 
or  mix  with  cards,"  and  the 
following  quotation  from  Top- 
sell's  Four-footed  Beasts  (1607) 
supports  this  view :  "  As  for 
his  diet,  let  it  be  warm  mashes, 
sodden  wheat  and  hay,  thor- 
oughly carded  with  a  pair  of 
wood-cards."  Corded  is  there- 
fore not  to  be  regarded  as  a 
contracted  form  of  discarded. 

cates  (iii.  1.  163),  dainty  fare. 
The  singular,  calf,  which  has 
undergone  aphseresis  from 
acate,  is  rarely  found.  The 
original  meaning  of  the  word 
is  "  purchase,"  being  derived 


GLOSSARY 


209 


from  the  O.  F.  acat  (cf.  Mod. 
F.  achat)  and  Low  Lat.  accap- 
tum,  accaptare,  to  purchase. 
It  is  thus  connected  etymo- 
logically  with  catch  and  chase 
as  well  as  with  cater. 

cess  (ii.  1.8).  The  word  is  prob- 
ably connected  with  assess,  its 
meaning  being  assessment,  es- 
timate. As  a  verb,  meaning  to 
assess,  estimate,  it  occurs  in 
Stow's  Survey:  "  To  the  fif- 
teene  it  is  cessed  at  foure  pound 
ten  shillings."  Assess  is  from 
Lat.  assessus,  assidere,  to  stt 
beside,  to  be  assessor  to  a 
judge. 

cheap  (iii.  3.  51).  Here  used  in 
its  original  sense  as  a  noun. 
The  word  occurs  under  the 
form  cedp  (barter,  a  bargain) 
in  O.  E.,  and  has  cognate 
forms  in  most  Teutonic  lan- 
guages. The  contraction  of 
good  cheap  (cf .  Fr.  bon  marche) 
into  cheap,  whereby  the  word 
acquired  an  adjectival  force, 
took  place  in  the  sixteenth 
century. 

cozening  (i.  2.  136),  cheating;  a 
word  of  uncertain  origin,  the 
earliest  trace  of  which  occurs  in 
1561  under  the  term  cousoner, 
a  vagabond.  Cotgrave  con- 
nects it  with  cousin  and  Fr. 
cousiner,  which  he  renders  "  to 
clayme  kindred  for  advantage 
or  particular  ends,  and  hence 
to  cheat." 

culverin  (ii.  3.  56).  This  was 
originally  a  hand-gun,  but  in 
Shakespeare's  time  the  word 
had  come  to  be  used  in  the  sense 
of  a  long  cannon.  Like  basilisk 

((see  above),  it  means  literally 
a  reptile,  being  derived  from 
Lat.  colubrinus,  through  Fr. 
coulevrine,  Ital.  colubrina. 
daff'd  (iy.  1.  96),  put  aside. 
Daff  is  a  secondary  form 
of  doff  =  do  off.  In  Eliza- 
bethan English  there  were 
several  such  verbs  formed  by 
the  union  of  do  with  a  prepo- 


sition ;  dout  =  do  out,  occurs 
in  Henry  V,  and  dup  =  do  up, 
in  Hamlet.  Cf.  the  Mod.  E. 
don  =  do  on. 

distemperature  (iii.  1.  34),  dis- 
order. From  Med.  Lat. 
distemper alur a,  Lat.  dis  + 
temperare,  to  mix  in  wrong  pro- 
portions. The  word  is  used 
first  of  all  in  a  physical  sense, 
and  refers  to  unhealthy  con- 
ditions of  the  atmosphere ; 
thence  it  was  applied  to  the 
disordered  condition  of  the 
"  humours "  of  the  body 
(Murray). 

dowlas  (iii.  3.  79),  coarse  linen. 
From  Daoulas,  or  Doulas,  a 
town  near  Brest  in  Brittany. 

embossed  (iii.  3.  179),  swollen. 
For  the  use  of  the  word  ap- 
plied to  persons,  cf.  King 
Lear,  ii.  4.  226-227 : 

thou  art  a  boil, 

A    plague-sore,    an     embossed     car- 
buncle. 

To  emboss  means  literally  to 
cut  in  wood  (O.  F.  bos,  bois) 
and  the  sense  of  "  swollen  "  is 
derived  from  that  of  "  protu- 
berant," from  the  protuber- 
ances or  bosses  of  wood-carv- 
ing. 

engross  up  (iii.  2.  148),  amass. 
From  the  Fr.  en  gros,  in  the 
mass.  Lat.  in  +  grossus,  stout, 
thick.  There  is  also  a  French 
verb  engrosser,  Lat.  ingrossare. 

estridges  (iv.  1.  98),  ostriches. 
A  variant  of  ostrich,  M.  E.  oys- 
tryche,  O.  F.  ostruche,  Lat.  avis 
struthio,  struthio  being  from  the 
Gr.  <rrpov0os,  a  bird. 

expedience  (i.  1.  33),  haste,  a 
hasty  undertaking.  The  word 
first  came  into  use  at  the  time 
of  the  Revival  of  Letters,  com- 
ing through  the  French  from 
Lat.  expedire,  which  means 
literally  "  to  disengage  the 
feet,"  and  hence  "  to  remove 
obstacles,"  "  enable  to  act 
freely  and  promptly."  The 


310 


GLOSSARY 


modern  adjectives  expeditious 
and  expedient  bring  out  the  two 
idi-.-is  of  haatc,  promptitude, 
and  freedom  from  obstacles. 

foU  (i.  2.  238),  setting.  The 
word  is  from  O.  F.  foil,  Lat. 
folium,  a  leaf,  and  the  original 
use  of  the  word  was  for  the 
metal  surface  in  which  jewels 
were  set,  and  which  was  so 
arranged  as  to  show  the  jewels 
to  the  best  advantage. 

frets  (ii.  2.  2),  wears  away;  it 
is  the  O.  E.  fretan  from  an  orig. 
Germanic  fra-ctan,  to  eat 
away  (cf.  Goth,  fra-itan  and 
M:  H.  G.  fressen).  From  the 
physical  sense  of  eating  away 
has  been  derived  the  meta- 
physical force  of  the  modern 
verb  "  to  fret." 

gage  (i.  3.  173),  engage,  pledge. 
O.  F.  gager  and  gage,  a  pledge. 
The  word  is  of  Teutonic  origin, 
found  in  Gothic  under  the 
form  wadi  from  an  earlier 
wadjo,  O.  E.  wedd  (cf.  wedding). 
The  Mod.  E.  wage  and  wager 
are  from  the  Anglo-Norman 
forms  of  the  Continental 
French  gager;  cf.  warrant  and 
guarantee,  warden  and  guar- 
dian. 

gammon  (ii.  1.  22),  the  ham  or 
haunch  of  a  pig.  From  N.  F. 
gainbon  (cf.  Mod.  F.  jambon), 
O.  F.  gambe,  a  leg. 

grief  (i.  3.  51),  physical  pain. 
M.  E.  grief,  gref,  O.  F.  grief, 
gref,  Lat.  gravis,  heavy,  sad. 

harness  (iii.  2.  101),  armor,  men 
in  armor.  The  old  sense  of 
the  word  is  armor  generally, 
and  with  this  the  etymology 
of  the  word  agrees.  O.  F. 
harnas,  Breton,  houarn,  O. 
Welsh,  haiarn  =  iron.  The 
word  was  formerly  used  much 
more  for  the  armor  of  men 
than  of  horses. 

humorous  (iii.  1.  234),  whim- 
sical. The  word  humour  means 
literally  moisture,  and  in 
ancient  and  medieval  phys- 


iology the  humour*  were  the 
four  fluids  (blood,  phlegm, 
choler,  melancholy),  the  rela- 
tive proportions  of  which  in 
any  person  determined  his 
state  of  health.  Hence  the 
mental  application  of  the  word 
"  humour  "  (cf.  Every  Man  in 
hit  Humour)  arose  out  of  the 
physical.  Thus  humorous 
meant  first  "  moist,"  then 
"  subject  to  moods"  ;  "  whim- 
sical," "odd"  ;  while  from  the 
idea  of  oddness  arose  the 
modern  sense  of  "  jocular." 

hurly burly  (v.  1.  78),  tumultuous. 
Shakespeare  uses  the  word 
both  as  adjective  and  noun. 
Cf.  Macbeth,  "  When  the 
hurlyburly's  done."  The 
word  is  not  found  before  the 
sixteenth  century.  Hurly  is 
connected  with  hurling, 
violent,  and  the  verb  to  hurl  ; 
and  burly  seems  to  be  merely 
an  initially  varied  repetition 
of  the  word  (Murray).  Cf. 
Skimble-ecamble  (iii.  1.  154). 

impeach  (i.  3.  75),  bring  a  charge 
against.  This  word,  which 
appears  in  the  form  appeach 
in  Richard  II,  means  literally 
"  to  catch  by  the  feet,  en- 
tangle "  (Murray),  from  an 
O.  F.  form  of  Mod.  F.  cm- 
pecher,  Lat.  impedicare,  pedi- 
cam,  a  snare,  pes,  pedem,  a  foot. 

impressed  (i.  1.  21).  According 
to  Wedgwood  and  Skeat,  this 
word  is  a  derivative  from  press, 
and  has  no  connection  with 
Lat.  impressare.  To  press 
soldiers  (cf.  press-gang)  did  not 
mean  to  compel  them  to  serve, 
but  to  give  them  earnest- 
money  as  a  pledge  of  service. 
"  It  is  quite  certain,"  says 
Skeat,  "  that  press  is  a  cor- 
ruption of  the  old  word  prett 
=  ready,  because  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  give  earnest-money 
to  a  soldier  on  entering  serv- 
ice. This  earnest-money  was 
called  prest-money,  i.e.  ready- 


GLOSSARY 


211 


money  advanced,  and  to  give 
a  man  such  money  was  to 
imprest  him,  now  corruptly 
.written  impress." 

lewd  (iii.  2.  13),  vulgar,  base. 
M.  E.  lewed,  O.  E.  Icewede, 
lay,  unlearned,  also  used  as  a 
substantive,  layman. 

lieve  (iv.  2.  19),  glad.  Another 
form  of  lief,  M.  E.  lief,  leef, 
O.  E.  leof.  The  phrase  "  I 
had  as  lief  "  arose  in  M.  E. 
times,  and  gradually  replaced 
the  older  use  with  the  verb 
"  to  be  "  and  the  dative  of 
the  person.  Thus  the  Cotton 
MS.  of  the  Cursor  Mundi  reads 
us  lever  ware,  the  Fairfax  MS. 
we  had  leyver. 

manage  (ii.  3.  52),  control,  di- 
rection. Used  here  in  its 
original  sense  as  a  technical 
term  for  horse  management. 
The  word  is  from  O.  F.  manege, 
and  ultimately  from  Lat. 
manun. 

me.  Shakespeare  preserves  the 
use  of  the  old  dative  me,  which 
corresponds  fairly  closely  to 
the  so-called  ethical  dative  of 
Latin  syntax.  Sometimes  me 
has  the  force  of  "  to  my  cost," 
e.g. 

See  how  this  river  comes  me  crank- 
ing in, 

And  cuts  me  from  the  best  of  all  my 
land 

A   huge   half-moon    (iii.   1.   98-100). 

In  other  cases  its  meaning  is 
far  less  definite,  and  serves 
simply  to  draw  the  attention 
to  the  personality  of  the 
speaker,  e.g. 

He    presently,    as    greatness    knows 

itself, 

Steps  me  a  little  higher  than  his  vow 
(iv.  3.  74-75). 

For  other  uses  of  this  dative, 
see  Abbot,  §  220. 
>e  (iv.  4.  31),  more.  M.  E. 
ma,  mo,  O.  E.  ma.  The  O.  E. 
ma  is  the  neuter  form  of  the 
masc.  and  fern,  mara,  more, 


and  was  also  used  adverbially. 
Shakespeare's  use  of  it  — 
"  many  moe  corrivals  "  — 
probably  arose  out  of  its  O.  E. 
use  with  the  partitive  genitive, 
e.g.  ma  manna,  more  (of)  men. 

muster  (iv.  1.  133),  a  review. 
M.  E.  moustre,  O.  F.  mostre, 
another  form  of  moustre,  a 
pattern.  From  Lat.  monstrare, 
to  show.  The  word  is  thus 
etymologically  allied  to  mon- 
ster. 

nonce,  for  the  nonce  (i.  2.  201), 
for  the  once.  Older  forms  of 
the  phrase  are  for  then  ones, 
for  then  anes.  The  initial  n 
of  nonce  thus  belongs  properly 
to  the  definite  article,  being 
the  dative  ending  (O.  E.  tham, 
than) ,  while  the  es  of  anes,  ones, 
once  is  a  genitive  inflection. 

ought  (iii.  3.  152),  owed.  M.  E. 
owen,  O.  E.  dgan.  The  orig- 
inal meaning  of  the  verb  is 
"  to  possess  "  ;  cf.  the  Mod.  E. 
adjective  "  own "  and  the 
derivative  verb  "  to  own." 
From  the  idea  of  possession 
there  developed  in  M.  E.  the 
idea  of  obligation  and  also 
that  of  indebtedness.  The 
verb  appears  first  of  all  as  an 
auxiliary  in  Layamon's  Brut 
(circ.  1180),  "  he  ah  to  don  " 
=  he  must  do,  while  the  use 
of  ought,  as  Shakespeare  uses 
it  here,  is  found  as  early  as 
Wy  cliff  e  —  "  that  owgte  to 
hmi  ten  thousand  talentis," 
which  Tyndale  renders 
"  whiche  ought  hym  ten  thou- 
sande  talenttes." 

outlaw  (iv.  3.  58).  The  word 
occurs  already  in  O.  E.  under 
the  form  utlaga,  but  is  a  bor- 
rowing from  the  Scand.  utlagi. 
Cf.  fellow  <  Scand.  felagi. 

passion  (ii.  4.  425),  strong  emo- 
tion. M.  E.  passiun,  O.  F. 
passion,  Lat.  passionem  <Z.pati, 
to  suffer.  The  original  idea 
of  "  suffering  "  has  been  partly 
merged  in  the  idea  of  the 


21* 


GIX)SSARY 


strong  fooling  which  accom- 
l>:ini<'>  the  sutTrring. 

pellmell  (v.  1.  82),  confused; 
usually  an  adv.,  confusedly. 
From  O.  F.  pclle-melle  (usually 
spieled  pesle-mesle ;  of.  Mod.  F. 
•pile-mile),  from  pelle,  a  shovel, 
and  mesler  (Mod.  F.  mller),  to 
mix,  Lat.  pala  -(-  misculare, 
miscere. 

popinjay  (i.  3.  50),  a  parrot, 
thence  a  coxcomb.  M.  E. 
pojtingay  <  O.  F.  papegai  ; 
the  n  is  excrescent  as  in  mes- 
senger. <  O.  F.  messager.  The 
second  part  of  the  word  is 
from  O.  F.  gai,  gay  (cf.  jay  < 
Fr.  geai),  BO  called  because  of 
its  gay  plumage.  The  origin 
of  the  first  part,  papa,  is  un- 
certain ;  possibly  it  is  a  mi- 
metic form.  There  is  another 
form  of  the  word  in  O.  F. 
papegau  (Ital.  papagaUo), 
where  the  second  part  of  the 
word  is  clearly  from  Lat. 
!inl lux,  a  cock. 

pouncet-box  (i.  3.  38),  a  small 
box  containing  aromatic  spices ; 
pounce  is  another  form  of 
pumice,  used  in  the  sense  of 
powdered  pumice-stone,  and 
then  transferred  to  other 
kinds  of  powder,  especially 
scented  powders.  Fr.  ponce, 
pierre  ponce,  Lat.  pumcx, 
pumicem. 

profited  (iii.  1.  166),  proficient; 
from  M.  E.  profit,  O.  F.  profit, 
Lat.  profectum,  proficere,  to 
make  progress  Shakespeare's 
use  of  the  word  here  keeps 
close  to  the  original  (Latin) 
idea  of  making  progress. 

rascal  (ii.  2.  5).  The  word 
means  literally  a  hart  urtder 
six  years  of  age,  and  is  used  by 
Shakespeare  in  the  sense  of  a 
lean  deer  in  As  You  Like  It 
(iii.  3.  58) ;  the  M.  E.  form  is 
raskaille.  The  word,  being  a 
term  of  the  chase,  is  probably 
of  Norman  French  origin,  and 
Skeat  connects  it  with  O.  F. 


rascler.  to  scrape,  the  rascal 
deer  being  the  outcasts  or 
"  scrapings  "  of  the  herd,  unfit 
for  "  shooting." 

sad  (passim),  serious,  grave. 
Under  the  form  sad  it  occurs 
with  many  meanings  in  M.  E., 
but  the  original  sense  is 
"  sated  "  (O.  E.  sad) ;  cf.  Lat. 
sat,  satis.  From  the  idea  of 
"  sated  "  seems  to  have  sprung 
that  of  "  heavy  "  (still  used 
in  sneaking  of  bread),  thence 
"  serious  "  and  finally  "  sor- 
rowful." 

scandalized  (i.  3.  154),  disgraced. 
The  M.  E.  scandal,  scandle,  is 
from  O.  F.  escandle,  Lat.  scand- 
alum,  (ir.  axdviaXoy,  a  snare. 
The  metaphorical  use  of  the 
word  in  the  sense  of  a  stum- 
bling-block occurs  in  the  Greek 
Testament  (see  Matthew,  xviii. 
7). 

Scot  (i.  3.  212).  There  is  prob- 
ably a  reference  here  to  the 
phrase  scot  and  lot  which  Fal- 
staff  uses  in  v.  4.  115.  This 
phrase  means  literally  "  con- 
tribution and  share."  Skeat 
explains  wot  =  contribution, 
as  "  that  which  is  '  shot '  into 
the  general  fund  "  ;  scot  and 
shot  are  thus  doublets. 

strappado  (ii.  4.  262),  a  form  of 
torture ;  the  word  has  assumed 
a  Spanish  form,  but,  according 
to  Skeat,  is  from  Ital.  strap- 
pata,  a  pulling,  wringing  ;  Ital. 
strappare,  to  pull. 

subornation  (i.  3.  163),  the 
crime  of  procuring  another  to 
do  a  bad  action.  From  suborn, 
Fr.  suborner,  Lat.  sub  +  or- 
nare,  to  furnish  in  an  under- 
hand way. 

tall  (i.  3.  62),  stout.  M.  E.  tal, 
tall.  Chaucer  uses  the  word 
in  the  sense  of  docile  ("  So 
humble  and  tall,"  Complej/nt 
of  Mars),  and  this  is  not  far 
from  its  original  sense  of  fit, 
suitable.  The  O.  E.  form  is 
found  only  in  compounds,  e.g. 


GLOSSARY 


213 


ungetal,  inconvenient.  Cf. 
Goth,  unlals,  disobedient,  and 
gatils,  suitable.  The  change 
of  meaning  from  docile  to 
stout,  and  then  to  lofty,  is  not 
easily  traced.  Skeat  adduces 
a  Celtic  word  tal  =  lofty. 

touch  (iv.  4.  10),  test.  M.  E. 
touchen,  Fr.  toucher  (cf.  Ital. 
toccare).  The  Romance  forms 
of  this  word  are  usually  traced 
to  Germ,  tiohan,  Goth,  tiuhan 
(to  draw).  O.  H.  G.  ziohan, 
also  zucchen  (cf.  Mod.  G. 
zucken,  to  twitch). 

varlet  (ii.  2.  25),  scoundrel. 
From  the  O.  F.  varlet,  vaslet,  a 


diminutive  of  vassal,  Low  Lat. 
vassallus,  a  diminutive  of 
vassus,  a  domestic.  The  root 
is  Celtic,  the  Breton  form 
being  gwaz,  the  Welsh  gwas, 
a  boy  servant.  Valet  and  also 
vassal  are  from  the  same  Celtic 
root. 

wanton  (iv.  1.  103),  unrestrained. 
From  M.  E.  wantogen  and 
wantowen,  literally  "  deficient 
in  training,"  M.  E.  togen,  O.  E. 
togen  being  the  past  participle 
of  O.  E.  teon  (tihan),  to  draw, 
educate.  For  this  use  of  the 
prefix  wan,  cf.  wanhope  = 
despair. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS 


(The  references  are  to  the  Notes  ad   loc.     Other   words   will   be 
found  in  the  Glossary.) 


advantage,  ii.  4.  594. 
angel,  iv.  2.  6. 
apple-john,  iii.  3.  5. 
appointment,  i.  2.  197. 
argument,  ii.  2.  100. 
arras,  ii.  4.  549. 
aspects,  i.  1.  97. 
attend,  i.  3.  210. 

baffle,  i.  2.  113. 
bagpipe,  i.  2.  86. 
balk'd,  i.  1.  69. 
base-string,  ii.  4.  6. 
bastard,  ii.  4.  30,  82. 
bated,  iv.  1.  99. 
bavin,  iii.  2.  61. 
bear,  a  lugged,  i.  2.  83. 
bolters,  iii.  3.  81. 
bolting-hutch,  ii.  4.  495. 
bombard,  ii.  4.  497. 
brach,  iii.  1.  240. 
break,  ii.  3.  90. 
buff,  i.  2.  48. 

caddis-garter,  ii.  4.  79. 
caliver,  iv.  2.  21. 
canker'd,  i.  3.  137. 
canstick,  iii.  1.  131. 
cantle,  iii.  1.  100. 
capitulate,  iii.  2.  120. 
carbonado,  v.  3.  61. 
Charles'  wain,  ii.  1.  2. 
chewet,  v.  1.  29. 
chuffs,  ii.  2.  94. 
close,  i.  1.  13. 
comfit-maker,  iii.  1.  253. 
commodity,  i.  2.  93. 


comparative,  i.  2.  90. 
confound,  i.  3.  100. 
Corinthian,  ii.  4.  13. 
cousin,  i.  1.  31. 
cranking,  iii.  1.  98. 
cressets,  iii.  1.  15. 
cuisses,  iv.  i.  105. 
Cut,  ii.  1.  6. 

defy,  iv.  1.  6. 
denier,  iii.  3.  91. 
division,  iii.  1.  211. 
draff,  iv.  2.  38. 
drone,  i.  2.  85. 
durance,  i.  2.  49. 

elbow,  v.  1.  77. 
elf-skin,  ii.  4.  270. 
enfeoffd,  iii.  2.  69. 
engaged,  iv.  3.  95. 
entrance,  i.  1.  5. 
Esperance,  ii.  3.  74. 
estridges,  iv.  1.  98. 
expedience,  i.  1.  33. 

favours,  iii.  2.  136. 
fern-seed,  ii.  1.  96. 
foot-land  rakers,  ii.  1.  81. 
frontier,  i.  3.  19. 


gentlemen  of  companies,   iv.  2. 

26-27. 

gib  cat,  i.  2.  83. 
goodman  Adam,  ii.  4.  105. 
gorbellied,  ii.  2.  93. 
gull,  v.  1.  60. 
gummed  velvet,  ii.  2.  2. 


215 


216 


INDEX  OF  WORDS 


hnir.  iv.  1.  61. 
half-fared,  i.  3.  208. 
hardiment,  i.  3.  1U1. 
head,  i.  8.  284. 
hilts,  ii.  4.  230. 

indent,  i.  3.  87. 
induction,  iii.  1.  2. 
iteration,  i.  2.  101. 

kept,  i.  3.  244. 
knotty-pated,  ii.  4.  251-252. 

lay  by,  i.  2.  40. 
levy,  i.  1.  22. 
lime,  ii.  4.  137. 
line,  ii.  3.  86. 

mammets,  ii.  3.  95. 
manage,  ii.  3.  52. 
meteor,  v.  1.  19. 
micher,  ii.  4.  450. 
milliner,  i.  3.  36. 
minion,  i.  1.  83. 
misprision,  i.  3.  27. 
moiety,  iii.  1.  96. 
moldwarp,  iii.  1.  149. 

neat's  tongue,  ii.  4.  271. 
nether  st(x-ks,  ii.  4.  130. 
Newgate  fashion,  iii.  3.  104. 
not-pated,  ii.  4.  78. 

ob.,  ii.  4.  590. 
oneyers,  ii.  1.  85. 
opinion,  iii.  1.  185. 
opposed  eyes,  i.  1.  9. 
ought,  iii.  3.  152. 

palisadoes,  ii.  3.  55. 
paraquito,  ii.  3.  88. 
parmaceti,  i.  3.  58. 
Partlet,  iii.  3.  60. 
pick-thanks,  iii.  2.  25. 
pouncet-box,  i.  3.  38. 
predicament,  i.  3.  168. 
profited,  iii.  1.  166. 


prune,  i.  1.  98. 
puke-stocking,  ii.  4.  78-79. 

quiddities,  i.  2.  51. 

razes,  ii.  1.  23. 
retires,  ii.  3.  54. 
revolted,  iv.  2.  31. 
Rivo,  ii.  4.  124. 
roundly,  i.  2.  24. 

salamander,  iii.  3.  53. 
sarcenet,  iii.  1.  256. 
scutcheon,  v.  i.  143. 
set  a  match,  i.  2.  119. 
seven  stars,  the,  i.  2.  16. 
shotten  herring,  ii.  4.  143. 
sixpenny  strikers,  ii.  1.  82. 
skimble-skamble,  iii.  1.  154. 
soothers,  iv.  1.  7. 
soused,  iv.  2.  IS. 
Spanish-pouch,  ii.  4.  79-80. 
squier,  ii.  2.  13. 
standing-tuck,  ii.  4.  274. 
starting-hole,  ii.  4.  290. 
state,  ii.  4.  416. 
strappado,  ii.  4.  262. 
stronds,  i.  1.  4. 
subornation,  i.  3.  163. 
sword-and-buckler,  i.  3.  230. 

tailor's-yard,  ii.  4.  273. 
tallow-ketch,  ii.  4.  252-253. 
tench,  ii.  1.  18. 
termagant,  v.  4.  114. 
thumb-ring,  ii.  4.  365. 
tickle-brain,  ii.  4.  438-439. 
toasts-and-butter,  iv.  2.  22-23 
trade-fallen,  iv.  2.  32. 
train,  v.  2.  21. 

velvet  guards,  iii.  1.  261. 

wan,  iii.  2.  59. 
wards,  i.  2.  211. 
weaver,  ii.  4.  147. 
Welsh  hook,  ii.  4.  372-373. 
wilful-blame,  iii.  1.  177. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


Amamon,  ii.  4.  370. 
anachronism,  ii.  4.  380. 

Bible  quoted,  i.  2.  99-100. 
Bradley  quoted,  ii.  4.  243-244. 
Brandes  quoted,  i.  3.  58;    ii.  1. 
init. ;  iii.  1.  134. 

Daniel's     Civil     Wars     quoted, 
iii.  1.  72;  v.  3.  25;  v.  5.  29. 

Ecce  signum,  ii.  4.  187. 
Esperance,  ii.  3.  74;  v.  2.  97. 
euphuism,  ii.  4.  441-443. 

Falstaff's  cowardice,    v.   3.   36- 

37. 
Famous    Victories    of  Henry    V 

quoted,    i.    2.    72-73;     ii.    4. 

init.,  295,  340-341. 
Finsbury,  iii.  1.  257. 

Gadshill,  i.  2.  139. 

At*  used  for  its,  i.  1.  18. 
Holinshed  quoted,  i.   1.   38-46, 

71;    i.   3.   init. ;    iii.   1.   init., 

13-17,    122;     iii.    2.    33;     iv. 

1.  init.;   v.  1.  init.,  58;    v.  2. 

init. ;    v.  3.  init. ;    v.  4.  init., 

41,  45^6. 

Holy-rood  day,  i.  1.  52. 
honey  of  Hybla,  i.  2.  47. 

Kendal  green,  ii.  4.  246. 

King    Cambyses'    vein,    ii.    4. 

425-426,  431,  435. 
Knight  of  the   Burning  Lamp, 

iii.  3.  30. 


Lincolnshire  bagpipe,  i.  2.  85-86 
Lord     Mortimer     of     Scotland, 
iii.  2.  164. 

Maid  Marian,  iii.  3.  129. 
Manningtree  ox,  ii.  4.  498. 
Moor-ditch,  i.  2.  88. 
Mordake,  i.  1.  71. 

painted  cloth,  iv.  2.  28. 

parody   of    Lyly's    Euphues,   ii. 

4.  441-443,  455-456. 
personification,  i.  3. 102, 195-197. 
prophecies     of     dying     people, 

v.  4.  83. 
puns,   i.   2.  49;    i.    3.    41,    214, 

255 ;   ii.  3.  95 ;   ii.  4.  234,  238, 

317-321,   356-357;    v.  3.  31. 

Ravenspurgh,  i.  3.  248. 
rushes    on    Elizabethan    stage, 
iii.  1.  214. 

Shakespeare's  allusions  to  Greek 

myths,    ii.    4.    134-135;     iv. 

1.  106,  114;  v.  4.  24. 
Shakespeare's    confusion    as    to 

the  two  Mortimers,  i.  3.  145- 

146. 
Shakespeare's     introduction     of 

women  characters,  ii.  3.  init. 
Shakespeare's     opening     scenes, 

i.  1.  init. 
Shakespeare's  use   of   proverbial 

expressions,   ii.   1.   53;    ii.   3. 

114;    iii.  1.  59;    iii.  3.  92-93. 
Shakespeare's   use   of   thou  and 

you,  v.  4.  2-3. 
Sir  Michael,  iv.  4.  1. 


217 


218 


GENERAL  INDEX 


St.    Nicholas'   dorks,   ii.    1.    67- 

08. 
Stulibes'     Anatomy     of     Abuse* 

quoted,  iii.  1.  1(14. 
suing  of  livery,  iv.  3.  62. 
Sutton  Coldfidd,  iv.  2.  S. 

textual  notes,  i.  1.  70-77;  i.  2. 
177-178;  i.  S.  236;  ii.  2.  54; 
ii.  4.  270,  534-535;  iii.  1. 


18-20;    iii.  2.    OS;    iv.   1.  98- 

99,    107.  119,    120;    iv.   8.  72; 

v.  2.  8,  72;  v.  4.  81.  92. 
the  Vice  of  the  Morality  plays, 

ii.  4.  151. 

Toilet  quoted,  i.  1.  95. 
Turk  Gregory,  v.  3.  40. 

weavers  in  England,  ii.  4.  146- 
147. 


THE    ARDEN     SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HERFORD,  Litt.D.,  University  of  Manchester 


THE  SECOND  PART 
OF 

HENRY  THE  FOURTH 


EDITED    BY 

L.  WINSTANLEY 

LECTURER   IN   UNIVERSITY    COLLEGE  OF   WALES, 
ABERYSTWYTH 


D.    C.   HEATH    AND    COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO 

ATLANTA  SAN   FRANCISCO  DALLAS 

LONDON 


THE  ARDEX  SHAKESPEARE 

The  following  titlfst  art1  available  : 

AS   YOU    LIKE   IT 

THE   COMEDY   OF   ERRORS 

LOVE'S    LABOUR'S    LOST 

THE    MERCHANT   OK   VENICE 

A    MIDSUMMER    NIGHT'S    DREAM 

MUCH   ADO    ABOUT    NOTHING 

THE   TEMPEST 

TWELFTH    NIGHT 

THE    WINTER'S   TALE 

HENRY   IV  — PART   I 
HENRY    IV  —  PART   II 
HENRY   V 
HENRY    VIII 
KING   JOHN 
RICHARD    II 
RICHARD    III 

ANTONY   AND    CLEOPATRA 

CORIOLANUS 

CYMBELINE 

HAMLET 

JULIUS   C.ESAR 

KING    LEAR 

MACBETH 

OTHELLO 

ROMEO   AND   JULIET 

TIMON   OF   ATHENS 


COPYRIGHT,    1918 
BT  D.  C.  HEATH  AND  COMPANY 

2  F  8 
Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION v 

DRAMATIS  PERSONS xxx 

THE  SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  1 

NOTES 125 

GLOSSARY 168 

INDEX  OF  WORDS 175 

GENERAL  INDEX  177 


INTRODUCTION 

1.    LITERARY  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY 

SHAKESPEARE'S  historical  plays  consist  of  two  isolated  plays, 
King  John  and  Henry  VIII,  —  one  early  and  one  late,  —  and  also 
a  complete  and  connected  series  covering  more  than  a  century  of 
time,  commencing  with  the  reign  of  Richard  II  and  ending  with 
the  accession  of  Henry  VII,  after  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field. 
The  chronological  order  is,  of  course,  not  the  order  of  composition. 
Shakespeare  seems  to  have  begun  by  writing  in  collaboration  with 
Marlowe  the  three  parts  of  Henry  VI;  he  then  proceeded  to 
Richard  III,  and  only  afterward  to  the  reigns  which  preceded  these 
—  Richard  II,  Henry  IV,  and  Henry  V. 

There  were  good  reasons  for  leaving  the  latter  reigns  until  the 
end,  for  they  presented  to  the  dramatist  quite  special  difficulties. 
The  reigns  of  Richard  II  and  Richard  III  were  in  themselves 
dramatic ;  they  each  contained  many  striking  incidents  and  moved 
up  to  an  important  climax.  The  reign  of  Henry  IV,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  occupied  mainly  with  disconnected  rebellions  and  plots, 
and  less  promising  material  could  hardly  have  been  presented 
to  the  dramatist.  Shakespeare  solved  this  difficulty  with  felicitous 
boldness  —  by  inventing  the  whole  series  of  scenes  connected  with 
Falstaff,  which  have  in  reality  nothing  to  do  with  the  history,  and 
which  were  recognized  even  on  the  title  pages  of  the  published 
plays  as  separate  themes.  The  very  weakness  of  the  subject  thus 
proved  to  be  its  strength  upon  the  stage,  as  it  brought  about  the 
introduction  of  the  scenes  which  are  Shakespeare's  masterpiece 
in  comedy. 

The  two  parts  of  Henry  IV  are  continuous  in  subject  matter. 
The  First  Part  includes  the  period  from  the  end  of  Richard  II  to 
the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  1403.  The  Second  Part  treats  of  the 
remaining  ten  years  of  Henry  IV's  reign,  ending  with  his  illness 
and  death  and  the  coronation  of  Henry  V.  In  the  First  Part 
Shakespeare  has  selected  the  best  of  the  historical  material  afforded 
by  the  reign  and  has  made  the  most  of  it,  the  character  of  Hotspur 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

in  particular  being  really  impressive  and  interesting,  though,  in 
order  to  give  it  full  dramatic  value,  Shakespeare  has  had  to  do 
considerable  violence  to  chronology  and  make  Hotspur  appear 
much  younger  than  he  really  was.  Yet,  even  in  the  First  Part,  the 
humor  of  Falstaff  predominates,  and  in  the  Second  Part  the  his- 
tory loses  its  grip  altogether  and  sinks  entirely  into  the  background. 

The  First  Part  was  licensed  for  publication  on  February  25, 
1598;  the  Second  Part  was  licensed  on  August  23,  1600,  by  Wise 
and  Aspley  of  the  "Parrot"  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  the  full 
title  of  the  play  being  The  Second  Parte  of  the  history  of  Kinge  Henry 
the  iiijth,  with  the  humours  of  Sir  John  Falstaff,  \rrytten  by  Master 
Shakespere.  This  is  the  earliest  mention  of  Shakespeare's  name 
in  the  Stationers'  Registers.  In  the  same  year  the  same  firm 
published  also  Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

The  Second  Part,  as  originally  printed,  was  not  complete,  and 
seems  to  have  followed  an  abbreviated  acting  version;  most  copies 
omit  Act  iii,  sc.  1.  The  First  Folio  (1623)  gives  the  full  version. 

2.    SOURCES  OF  THE  PLOT 

Shakespeare's  main  sources  for  the  historical  portions  of  the  play 
are  to  be  found  in  Holinshed's  Chronicle  and  an  old  play  entitled 
The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  I'. 

The  play  really  covers  the  ten  years  from  July,  1403,  to  April, 
1413,  and  is  mainly  concerned  with  Archbishop  Scrope's  rebellion 
in  May  and  June,  1405.  Shakespeare  has,  however,  with  consider- 
able art,  disguised  the  passage  of  time  so  that  the  play  seems  to 
move  continuously.  Eight  years  must  elapse  between  Act  iv,  sc.  2, 
in  which  the  Archbishop  is  ordered  to  execution,  and  Act  iv,  sc.  4, 
in  which  the  king  is  shown  at  the  point  of  death.  Eight  years  is 
a  very  long  time  to  elapse  between  the  different  scenes  of  the  same 
act;  but  Shakespeare  purposely  leaves  his  notes  of  time  so  vague 
that  the  reader  does  not  observe  the  discrepancy.  The  interval  is 
filled  up  with  the  humor  of  Falstaff  in  scene  3,  which  must  belong 
historically  to  the  same  date  as  scene  2,  since  Falstaff  is  represented 
as  accepting  the  surrender  of  one  of  the  rebels  —  Sir  John  Colevile. 
This  Falstaff  scene  is  connected  with  the  next  (Act  v,  sc.  1)  with 
apparently  little  passage  of  time.  Falstaff's  last  words  in  Act  iv, 
sc.  3  are:  "I'll  through  Gloucestershire;  and  there  will  I  visit 
Master  Robert  Shallow,  esquire :  I  have  him  already  tempering 
between  my  finger  and  my  thumb."  In  Act  v,  sc.  1,  this  visit 
is  described  and  the  impression  is  very  naturally  created  that 


INTRODUCTION  vii 

the  two  are  separated  by  only  a  few  days;  certainly  no  reader 
would  suspect  an  eight  years'  interval. 

A  somewhat  similar  plan,  we  may  remark,  seems  to  have  been 
followed  by  Shakespeare  in  several  of  his  tragedies  (e.g.  Macbeth). 
Indeed,  Shakespeare  very  often  seems  to  employ  a  double  time- 
system,  the  real  time  being  quite  different  from  the  apparent  time. 
In  The  Winter's  Tale  Shakespeare  is  compelled  by  the  exigencies 
of  his  plot  to  call  attention  to  the  long  period  of  time  which  has 
elapsed ;  but  elsewhere  he  effectively  disguises  anything  of  the  kind. 
The  only  definite  notes  of  time  which  Shakespeare  makes  in  the 
Second  Part  are  inaccurate.  Thus  in  Act  iii,  sc.  1,  Henry  calls  to 
mind  that  Northumberland  had  "eight  years  since"  been  his 
trustiest  friend;  that  was,  of  course,  in  1399.  Thus,  if  we  accept 
the  time  note,  we  should  date  the  scene  1407;  but,  in  reality,  it 
occurs  during  Archbishop  Scrope's  rebellion,  in  the  historical  year 
1405.  In  the  same  scene,  also,  we  are  told  that  "Glendower  is 
dead,"  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  survived  Henry  IV  and  only 
made  official  submission  to  his  successor.  Holinshed  is  inaccurate 
in  this  matter;  but  even  he  says  that  the  death  occurred  in  1408 
or  1409.  Again,  in  the  scene  of  the  king's  death,  we  are  told  that  a 
great  power  of  "English  and  of  Scots"  has  been  overthrown  by 
the  Sheriff  of  Yorkshire ;  but  this  happened  in  1408,  or  five  years 
earlier. 

The  play  entitled  The  Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V  is  a  very 
simple  and  rough  Chronicle  Play  which  gave  Shakespeare  hardly 
more  than  a  few  hints.  Two  of  the  characters  —  Ned  and  Sir 
John  Oldcastle  —  appear  as  Poins  and  Falstaff,  but  are  entirely 
re-created  by  Shakespeare.  The  highway  robbery  and  the  attack 
on  the  travelers  in  the  First  Part  are  suggested  by  this  play.  In 
the  Second  Part  the  resemblances  are  less  strong;  they  are  found 
only  in  the  death  scene  of  Henry  IV,  where  the  Prince  takes  away 
the  crown  and  afterward  restores  it,  and  in  the  repudiation  of  Fal- 
staff (i.e.  the  Oldcastle  of  the  play). 

This  portion  may  be  quoted  for  comparison  with  Shakespeare : 

Ned.     Gogs  wounds,  the  king  comes. 
Let  all  stand  aside. 

Enter  the  King  with  the  Archbishop  and  the  Lord  of  Oxford 

Jock.     How  do  you  do,  my  Lord  ? 

Ned.     How  now,  Harry  ? 
Tut,  my  Lord,  put  away  these  dumpes, 
You  are  a  king,  and  all  the  realme  is  yours. 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

What,  man,  do  you  not  remember  the  old  Hayings. 
You  know  I  must  be  Lord  Chiefe  Justice  of  England  ? 
Trust  me,  my  lord,  me  think-  you  are  very  much  changed. 
And  'tig  but  with  a  little  sorrowing,  to  muke  folks  l>elieve 
The  death  of  your  father  greeves  you,  and  'tin  nothing  so. 

Hen.  V.     I  prithee  Ned,  mend  thy  manners, 
And  be  more  modester  in  thy  tearmes. 
For  my  unfeined  griefe  is  not  to  be  ruled  by  thy  flattering 
And  dissembling  talke ;   thou  saest  I  am  changed. 
So  I  am  indeed,  and  so  must  thou  be,  and  that  quickly. 
Or  else  I  must  cause  thee  to  be  changed. 

Jock.     Gogs  wounds,  how  like  you  this  ? 
Sounds  'tis  not  so  sweete  as  Musicke. 

Tom.     I  trust  we  have  not  offended  your  grace  no  way. 

Hen.  V.     Oh  Tom,  your  former  life  greeves  me. 
And  makes  me  to  abandon  and  abolish  your  company  for  ever. 
And  therefore  not  upon  pain  of  death  to  approch  my  presence 
By  ten  miles  space ;   then  if  I  heare  wel  of  you, 
It  may  be  I  wil  do  somewhat  for  you, 
Otherwise  looke  for  no  more  favour  at  my  hands, 
Than  at  any  other  man's.     And  therefore  be  gone, 
We  have  no  other  matter  to  talke  on. 

The  old  play  moves  rapidly,  and  immediately  after  this  scene  the 
king  opens  with  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  a  discussion  concern- 
ing his  rights  to  the  crown  of  France. 

Shakespeare  found  some  suggestions  for  Falstaff's  boy  in  the 
Vintner's  Boy  of  The  Famous  Victories;  but  he  found  not  even  a 
hint  for  Nym,  Bardolph,  and  Pistol,  for  Dame  Quickly  and  Doll 
Tearsheet,  or  for  Justice  Shallow  and  his  companions. 

In  fact,  the  more  closely  we  compare  the  Second  Part  with  its 
only  known  sources  in  Holinshed  and  The  Famout  Victoria, 
the  more  clearly  we  perceive  the  originality  of  Shakespeare's  work. 
It  is  noticeable  that  the  Henry  IV  plays  form  part  of  a  group 
which  was  famous  even  in  Shakespeare's  own  day  as  giving  more 
graphic  pictures  of  contemporary  manners  than  any  of  his  other 
dramas.  Henry  71',  Parts  I  and  II,  Henry  V,  The  Merry  Witet  of 
Windsor,  and  the  Induction  to  The  Taming  of  the  Shreic  deal 
frankly  and  almost  undisguisedly  with  contemporary  manners  and 
local  scenes  and  customs  both  in  London  and  near  Shakespeare's 
own  native  Stratford. 

The  fact  was  that,  just  about  the  end  of  the  century,  a  type  of 
"local"  play  came  greatly  into  vogue.  Schelling1  says:  "By  a 

1  Elizabethan  Drama. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

natural  reaction  plain  English  plays  demanded  plain  English 
places ;  and  Manchester,  Wakefield,  Windsor,  and  Bristol,  with 
numerous  other  English  towns,  figure  as  the  scenes  of  the  domestic 
play.  The  word  'London'  enters  into  the  title  of  many  plays. 
.  .  .  The  '  City '  was  celebrated  on  the  stage  almost  ward  for  ward 
and  street  for  street,  in  plays  such  as  A  Chaste  Maid  in  Cheapside, 
The  Cripple  of  Fenchurch  Street,  The  Boss  of  Billingsgate,  The 
Lovers  of  Leedgate,  etc." 

Shakespeare,  with  his  usual  sensitiveness  to  literary  moods, 
seems  to  have  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  describe 
the  humors  of  Cheapside  and  of  his  own  native  countryside. 
There  is  no  attempt  whatever  to  give  historical  verisimilitude  to 
the  comedy  scenes  of  Henry  IV;  they  do  not  describe  the  manners 
of  two  centuries  back,  but  emphatically  those  of  Shakespeare's 
own  day. 

3.   THE  CHARACTERS 

The  character  of  Prince  Hal  is  developed  more  fully  and  pleasingly 
in  the  First  Part  than  in  the  Second ;  in  the  earlier  play  Shakespeare 
shows  him  in  the  Falstaff  scenes  in  his  brightest  and  most  amusing 
moods,  and  his  rivalry  with  Hotspur  is  managed  with  consummate 
art,  so  that  the  interest  —  at  first  concentrated  mainly  on  the 
brilliant  Percy  —  is  by  degrees  transferred  to  his  royal  rival, 
mainly  because  the  latter  is  less  self-conscious,  more  simple  and 
manly,  and,  fundamentally,  more  patriotic. 

In  the  Second  Part  the  character  of  the  Prince  is  shown  in  a  some- 
what less  attractive  light.  He  no  longer  possesses  the  light- 
hearted  gayety  of  the  early  play  and  has  not  yet  attained  to  the 
grave  and  tranquil  responsibility  of  Henry  V ;  he  is  in  the  transition 
stage  between  the  two  and  is  therefore  restless,  half-hearted,  and 
dissatisfied.  In  The  Famous  Victories  the  change  of  character  in 
the  Prince  is  represented  as  coming  about  most  suddenly  and 
naively :  one  moment  he  is  the  acme  of  wildness,  the  next,  the 
serious  illness  of  his  father  makes  him  repent  and,  almost  imme- 
diately, his  temperament  changes. 

Shakespeare,  of  course,  represents  the  alteration  much  more 
subtly ;  even  in  the  First  Part  the  Prince  gradually  becomes  more 
serious  and  takes  a  more  prominent  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  realm. 
In  the  Second  Part  we  see  him  weighed  down  by  an  ever  increasing 
sense  of  care  and  responsibility.  His  father's  illness  deeply  dis- 
tresses him,  partly  because  it  makes  him  regret  their  misunder- 
standings, partly  because  he  knows  that  soon  he  must  assume  the 


*  INTRODUCTION 

crown.  He  regards  the  possibility  of  his  accession  with  apprehen- 
sion and  reluctance,  though  when  it  docs  come  he  meets  it  as  he 
meets  all  other  crises  —  with  calm  courage. 

In  the  Second  Part  we  see  the  Prince  much  more  seldom  than  in 
the  First,  and  his  pranks  arc  mainly  attempts  to  hide  regret. 
The  first  words  he  utters  in  the  Second  Part  (Act  ii.  sc.  4)  are: 
"Before  God,  I  am  exceeding  weary."  Poins  rallies  him  on  his 
melancholy  state  and  asks  him,  half  ironically,  if  he  does  not  regret 
his  father's  illness.  The  Prince,  unable  to  keep  up  the  jesting  tone, 
admits  that  he  does :  "It  is  not  meet  that  I  should  be  sad,  now  my 
father  is  sick :  albeit  I  could  tell  to  thee,  as  to  one  it  pleases  me, 
for  fault  of  a  better,  to  call  my  friend,  I  could  be  sad  and  sad  indeed 
too."  Poins  does  not  believe  him  and  the  Prince,  in  real  anger, 
retorts  that  he  is  not  "as  far  in  the  devil's  book  as  thou  and  Pal- 
staff,"  and  avows  in  all  sincerity,  "my  heart  bleeds  inwardly  that 
my  father  is  so  sick." 

It  is  obvious  that  he  is  more  than  half  ashamed  of  his  company. 
Throughout  the  Second  Part  we  see  that  the  Prince  and  Falstaff 
are  drifting  away  from  each  other;  they  meet  in  only  a  single 
scene  (the  one  with  Doll  Tearsheet)  and  that  scene  exhibits  the 
most  unpleasant  side  of  Falstaff's  character  —  the  sensuality  of 
an  old  man.  He  shows  to  far  better  advantage  in  his  relations  with 
Justice  Shallow,  but  the  Prince  is  not  at  hand  to  see  him  then. 
Again,  when  Falstaff  takes  prisoner  Sir  John  Colevile  of  the  Dale, 
—  a  really  amusing  exploit,  —  it  is  Prince  John  of  Lancaster  with 
whom  he  has  to  deal  and  not  Prince  Hal.1  Falstaff  anticipates  his 
next  meeting  with  his  "sweet  wag"  and  plans  how  he  will  make  him 
laugh  "without  intervallums"  over  the  humor  of  Justice  Shallow; 
but  he  never  gets  the  opportunity,  for  he  sees  Hal  only  once  more 
and  that  is  in  the  open  street  when  he  is  repudiated  forever. 

The  character  of  Henry  really  owes  very  little  to  Shakespeare's 
sources.  Holinshed  says  of  him  that  a  great  change  took  place  in 
his  character  on  his  accession,  and  describes  him  as  follows  :  "This 
king  was  of  a  meane  stature,  well  proportioned  and  formallie  com- 
pact; quicke  and  livelie  and  of  a  stout  courage.  I ri  his  latter  days 
he  showed  himself  so  gentle,  that  he  got  more  love  amongst  the 
nobles  and  people  of  this  realme,  than  he  had  purchased  malice 
and  evill  will  in  the  beginning." 

It  is  generally  considered  that  Henry  V  is  Shakespeare's  portrait 
of  an  ideal  king,  —  not,  perhaps,  of  an  ideal  man  (the  creator  of 
Hamlet  can  hardly  have  thought  him  that),  but,  at  any  rate,  by 
1  Act  iv,  sc.  3. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

far  the  most  satisfactory  among  his  English  monarchs.  He  is 
a  man  who  has  no  great  imaginative  power,  is  not  particularly 
sensitive,  but  is  full  of  good  will  and  fellowship,  is  manly  and 
sincere,  and,  above  all,  extraordinarily  resolute  and  brave  in 
crises.  Henry's  power  of  rising  to  emergencies  is  the  most  striking 
trait  in  his  character ;  just  as  it  is  the  fate  of  the  unhappy  Richard  II 
to  fail  in  all  crises,  so  it  is  the  prerogative  of  Henry  V  in  every 
danger  to  show  himself  at  his  best.  Richard  II  is  far  more  imagina- 
tive and  poetic  than  Henry  could  ever  be,  and  is,  in  many  ways, 
more  interesting;  but,  as  a  king,  he  is  a  disastrous  failure,  while 
Henry  has  all  the  qualities  —  courage,  knowledge  of  men,  strength 
and  steadfastness  of  will  —  which  go  to  make  the  really  successful 
monarch. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  Henry  V  possesses  many  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  Tudors,  being  like  them  in  his  courage  and 
resolution,  in  his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  also  in  his 
frank,  and  democratic  attitude  toward  his  subjects.  But  it  is 
possible  to  go  farther.  The  character  of  Henry  V  may  well  have 
been  intended  as  a  compliment  to  Elizabeth  by  representing  what 
she  and  everyone  else  would  recognize  as  a  kind  of  ideal  portrait 
of  her  father  as  she  had  known  him  in  her  youth.  There  is  nothing 
improbable  in  the  conception,  for  we  know  that  Shakespeare's 
dramas  were  regularly  performed  at  court,  a  considerable  pro- 
portion of  his  success  being  due  to  these  special  performances; 
and  there  is  a  generally  accepted  tradition  that  the  Falstaff  plays 
in  particular  were  especially  pleasing  to  the  queen. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  early  popularity  of  Henry  VIII 
had  been  very  great,  that  his  services  to  the  realm  were  intensely 
admired,  and  that,  during  the  reign  of  his  daughter,  it  was  the 
custom  to  concentrate  attention  rather  on  his  excellences  than  on 
his  defects.  Many  compliments  were  paid  to  him  on  his  success 
as  a  conqueror  of  France.  Thus  Nashe  in  Jack  Wilton,  dating  his 
story,  says:  "About  that  time  the  terror  of  the  world  and  fever 
quartan  of  the  French,  Henrie  the  eight  (the  only  true  subject  of 
Chronicles),  advanced  his  standard  against  Turney  and  Turwin." 

It  should  also  be  observed  that  Henry  VIII  was  just  such  a 
contrast  to  Henry  VII  as  Shakespeare's  Henry  V  was  to  his  father. 
The  situations  really  are,  in  many  respects,  similar,  and  Shakespeare, 
in  his  play,  has  brought  out  all  the  similarities.  Henry  VII  had, 
like  Henry  IV,  a  disputed  title ;  for  fifteen  years  all  kinds  of  revolt 
and  sedition  disturbed  his  reign ;  there  was  a  revolt  in  the  north  and 
a  rising  in  the  west.  Henry  VII,  like  Shakespeare's  Henry  IV, 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

was  a  model  of  statecraft,  patience,  and  labor;  he  was  exceedingly 
politic ;  he  ran  the  great  risk  of  his  life  in  his  invasion  of  England  ; 
but,  after  that,  he  left  nothing  to  chance.  "He  was  never  betrayed 
by  any  passions  or  enthusiasm.  He  was  untrammelled  by  scruples, 
unimpeded  by  principles,  he  pursued  with  constant  fidelity  the  task 
of  his  life,  to  secure  the  throne  for  himself  and  his  children,  to  pacify 
his  country,  and  to  repair  the  waste  of  the  civil  wars."  ' 

We  have  only  to  put  this  picture  side  by  side  with  Shakespeare's 
portrait  of  Henry  IV  to  see  how  closely  the  two  agree.  Nor  are 
the  resemblances  any  the  less  striking  in  the  case  of  the  sons. 
Henry  VII  also  formed  in  the  general  mind  a  sort  of  background  and 
contrast  to  the  far  more  brilliant  qualities  of  his  successor.  Henry 
VIII  in  his  youth  had  many  attractive  qualities  and  was  dearly 
loved  by  his  people.  No  king  had  ever  ascended  the  throne  more 
richly  endowed  with  physical  and  mental  gifts,  and  England 
regarded  him  with  a  somewhat  extravagant  loyalty  ;  he  was,  more- 
over, on  terms  of  the  utmost  good-fellowship  with  his  subjects. 
"  All  his  life,"  says  Pollard,  "  he  moved  familiarly  and  almost  un- 
guarded in  the  midst  of  his  subjects." 

In  dying,  Henry  VII  had  exhorted  lu's  son  to  defend  the  Church 
and  to  make  war  upon  the  infidel ;  this  is  almost  identical,  as 
Shakespeare  paints  it,  with  the  mission  bequeathed  to  Henry  V. 
Again,  in  his  youth  Henry  VIII,  like  Prince  Hal,  had  been  too 
much  inclined  to  pleasures,  and  his  councillors  occasionally  com- 
plained that  he  cared  only  for  amusement. 

Henry  VIII  had  an  intense  antipathy  to  everything  French. 
Even  before  he  came  to  the  throne  he  had  been  reported  to  be  the 
enemy  of  France,  and  everyone  speculated  as  to  whether  he  would 
not  be  able  to  rival  the  exploits  of  his  ancestor,  Henry  V.  Like 
all  the  Tudors,  Henry  VIII  possessed  great  courage.  He  had  also 
the  power  of  greatly  inspiriting  his  armies.  In  July,  1518,  when  he 
joined  his  army  in  France,  he  proved  himself  a  most  gifted  leader 
and  possessed  of  a  quite  special  bonhomie.  "  Henry  rode  round  the 
camp  at  three  in  the  morning,  cheering  his  men  with  the  remark, 
'  Well,  comrades,  now  that  we  have  suffered  in  the  beginning, 
fortune  promises  us  better  things.'  "  * 

Again,  like  Shakespeare's  Henry  V,  Henry  VIII  in  his  French 
campaign  sternly  repressed  all  acts  of  looting  and  impiety.  Near 
Ardes  some  German  mercenaries  pillaged  a  church  and  Henry 
promptly  had  three  of  them  hanged.  We  also  notice  in  Henry  V 
how  much  stress  Shakespeare  lays  on  the  capture  of  the  noble 
1  Pollard  'Pollard. 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

prisoners  after  Agincourt,  the  Duke  of  Orleans  being  mentioned 
first  and  foremost;  so  after  the  battle  of  Spurs  some  of  the  chief 
nobles  of  France  were  captured  —  Louis  d'Orleans,  Chevalier 
Bayard,  and  others. 

Henry  VIII  was  generally  acknowledged  to  be  in  his  youth  frank, 
honorable,  and  high-spirited  :  "  Few  could  have  thought  that,  under 
so  careless  and  splendid  an  exterior  —  the  very  ideal  of  bluff, 
open-hearted  good-humour  and  frankness  —  there  lay  a  watchful 
and  secret  eye,  that  marked  what  was  going  on  without  appearing 
to  mark  it,  kept  its  own  counsel  till  it  was  time  to  strike,  and  then 
struck  as  suddenly  and  remorselessly  as  a  beast  of  prey.  .  .  .  He 
combined  in  his  royal  person  the  parts  of  despot  and  demagogue, 
and  both  he  clothed  in  Tudor  grace  and  majesty.  .  .  .  He  led  his 
people  in  the  way  they  wished  to  go  ...  even  his  bitterest  foes 
could  scarce  forbear  to  admire  the  dauntless  front  he  presented  to 
every  peril.  Material  pride  was  the  highest  motive  to  which  he 
appealed."  l  This  portrait  is  certainly  far  more  like  that  of  Shake- 
speare's Henry  V  than  any  details  concerning  the  historical  Henry 
V  which  can  be  found  either  in  Holinshed  or  in  The  Famous  Victories. 

It  is  also  very  interesting  to  note  what  details  Shakespeare  uses 
from  The  Famous  Victories  and  what  details  he  omits.  Thus,  he 
omits  the  incident  of  the  Prince  striking  the  judge  and  appearing 
before  his  father  in  a  dress  designed  in  mockery.  He  retains  the 
incident  of  the  French  king  taunting  Henry  V  with  his  skill  in  ten- 
nis, in  which  game  it  is  well  known  that  Henry  VIII  was  proficient. 

It  would,  of  course,  be  too  much  to  say  that  Shakespeare  intended 
an  exact  resemblance;  but  all  the  parallel  circumstances  are  ex- 
plained and  brought  out;  all  the  similar  traits  of  character  are 
thrown  into  relief,  and  the  result  would  doubtless  be  a  flattering 
image  of  Henry  VIII  as  he  appeared  to  his  subjects  in  his  youth. 
There  is  nothing  derogatory  to  Shakespeare  in  the  supposition. 
Doubtless  he  shared  the  quite  common  and  sincere  belief  of  the  men 
of  his  time  that  the  Tudors  were  a  strong  dynasty  who  had  saved 
England  from  untold  distresses  and  made  her  great  as  never  before. 
Spenser,  as  we  know,  shared  this  belief  and  expressed  it  most  fully 
and  unmistakably  in  the  Faerie  Queene.  A  direct  compliment  to 
the  Tudors  is,  of  course,  introduced  in  Henry  V,  where  Catherine, 
their  ancestress,  is  brought  into  the  play. 

An  additional  Tudor  likeness  in  Henry  V  is  to  be  seen  in  his 
hardness  of  heart :  notwithstanding  all  his  bonhomie  and  his 
careless,  good-humored  frankness,  there  is  no  one  whom  he  really 
i  Pollard. 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

loves.  Is  it  his  father?  Scarcely!  Is  it  the  Princess  Catherine? 
No !  for  he  makes  it  very  obvious  even  to  her  that  he  woos  her  for 
her  dower !  Is  it  Falstaff  ?  No !  Falstaff  loves  him ;  but  we 
have  no  evidence  at  all  that  the  Prince  reciprocates  this  affection  in 
any  way.  Henry  never  gives  his  whole  heart  to  any  human  being, 
and  this  is  the  real  reason  why  we  love  him  so  much  less  than 
Shakespeare's  other  heroes,  —  less  than  Hamlet  or  Antony  or 
Othello;  but  it  also  makes  him  much  more  like  Henry  \  II I 

The  real  centre  of  the  Second  Part  of  Henry  IN'  is  to  be  found  in 
the  character  of  Falstaff.  This  has  little  foundation  in  The  Famous 
Victories.  For  a  discussion  of  the  origin  of  this  famous  character, 
see  Introduction  to  /  Henry  II',  pages  i-viii.  \Ve  might  here  point 
out  that  the  early  identification  of  FuLstnff  with  Oldcastle  explains 
a  difficulty  that  has  exercised  the  minds  of  a  large  number 
of  critics,  i.e.  the  severity  of  Henry  V's  repudiation  of  Falstaff  and 
the  latter's  commitment  to  prison.  Many  writers  have  lamented 
Henry's  undue  severity  and,  especially,  what  they  consider  the 
cruelty  of  the  imprisonment.  The  king  first  promises  Falstaff : 

"For  competence  of  life  I  will  allow  you, 
That  lack  of  means  enforce  you  not  to  evil : 
And,  as  we  hear  you  do  reform  yourselves, 
We  will,  according  to  your  strengths  and  qualities, 
Give  you  advancement."     (v.  4.  70-74.) 

Henry  puts  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  Chief  Justice  and  then, 
almost  immediately  afterwards,  though  in  the  brief  interim  Fal- 
staff has  had  no  opportunity  to  afford  any  kind  of  provocation,  we 
find  the  old  man  lialed  off  to  prison :  "Go,  carry  Sir  John  Falstaff 
to  the  Fleet."  (v.  4.  97.) 

This  conduct,  as  it  stands,  is  certainly  both  cruel  and  indefensible, 
and  Henry  cannot  really  l>e  excused  —  in  spite  of  many  efforts 
to  do  so  —  by  anything  which  occurs  in  the  present  form  of  the 
play.  The  true  explanation  surely  lies  in  the  fact  that  these  cir- 
cumstances belong  to  the  historical  Oldcastle.  In  the  first  draft 
of  the  play  the  audience  would,  of  course,  be  well  aware  of  his 
identity.  They  knew  that  he  was  not  only  a  Ixxm  companion,  but 
also  that  much  more  serious  thing  —  a  heretic;  they  knew  that 
the  king,  on  his  accession,  was  compelled  for  the  most  serious  polit- 
ical reasons  to  repudiate  Lollardry  — -for  reasons  as  serious  as  those 
which  had  led  Elizabeth's  government  to  persecute  the  Puritans. 
They  knew  that,  when  Henry  declared  that  Falstaff  should  be 
reasoned  with,  he  was  not  thinking  of  persuading  him  to  give 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

up  "sack  and  sugar,"  but  to  recant.  They  were  well  aware  that, 
far  from  being  unduly  severe,  the  king  was,  in  effect,  straining 
his  royal  authority  to  the  utmost  to  save  his  old  friend;  and 
they  were  also  aware  that,  when  Oldcastle  was  ordered  off  to 
prison,  the  incident  was  simply  in  accord  with  historical  fact.  As 
the  drama  stands,  Henry  V  plays,  in  relation  to  Falstaff,  the 
part  of  a  really  odious  prig,  something  like  Tennyson's  Arthur  in 
The  Idylls  of  the  King.  So  long  as  it  pleases  him  to  jest  and  be 
amused,  he  delights  his  whole  heart  with  Falstaff's  incomparable 
wit ;  then,  finding  it  necessary  to  take  life  more  seriously,  he  repu- 
diates his  old  companion  with  cruel  severity  and,  at  the  same  time, 
makes  himself  ridiculous  by  telling  Falstaff,  whose  faults  are  hardly 
more  than  those  of  the  homme  sensuel  moyen,  that  he  must  not  come 
within  ten  miles  of  the  royal  person,  thus  suggesting  that  Henry 
was  exceedingly  weak-willed  and  dared  not  trust  himself  near  such 
a  fascinating  companion,  lest  he  might  at  any  moment  be  misled 
back  to  "sack  and  sugar."  It  is  an  action  more  worthy  of  a  weak- 
fibred  schoolboy  than  of  Shakespeare's  hero  king,  —  the  slayer  of 
Hotspur  and  the  conqueror  of  France. 

But,  if  we  substitute  the  name  of  Oldcastle  for  that  of  Falstaff 
(as  we  ought  in  order  to  understand  the  scene),  the  explanation  is 
obvious  at  once.  Oldcastle  was  not  banished  because  his  conversa- 
tion was  too  fascinating,  but  because  the  charge  of  favoring  Lol- 
lardry  might  have  brought  down  the  dynasty.  Oldcastle  was  not 
imprisoned  because  he  had  spoken  daringly  to  the  king  in  a  royal 
procession,  but  on  the  only  too  serious  charge  of  heresy.  Henry  was 
not  harshly  repudiating  a  boon  companion ;  he  was  doing  his  best 
to  save  his  old  friend  from  infuriated  ecclesiastics. 

As  has  been  pointed  out,  the  character  of  Falstaff  still  bears  many 
traces  of  its  true  origin.  The  popular  legend  which  had  gathered 
around  Oldcastle  represented  him  as  a  man  of  irregular  life,  stout 
in  his  person,  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman  who  had  fallen  into  evil 
ways,  and  whose  friendship  corrupted  his  prince.  From  these 
suggestions  Shakespeare  has  drawn  one  of  the  most  matchless 
comic  characters  to  be  found  in  all  literature.  It  has  been  pointed 
out 1  how,  running  through  the  whole  character,  there  is  the  thread 
of  the  perverted  Puritan,  "  the  man  whose  memory  and  perhaps 
uneasy  conscience  is  always  recalling  to  him  the  religious  phraseology 
and  topics  of  his  youth.  All  through  Falstaff's  conception  of  his 
own  character  is  found  the  assumption  that  he  was  once  a  profoundly 
respectable  and  religious  character,  who  has  been  spoiled  by  bad 
1  Canon  Ainger,  Sir  John  Falstaff. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

company."  He.  more  than  any  other  character  in  Shakespeare,  is 
fond  of  quoting  Scriptural  phrases:  "  Ix»t  him  be  damned,  like 
the  glutton  !  Pray  God  his  tongue  l>e  hotter  ! "  (i.  «.  89-40.)  When 
the  Chief  Justice  tells  him  that  his  voice  is  broken  with  old  age, 
he  declares:  "For  my  voice,  I  have  lost  it  with  halloing  and  sing- 
ing of  anthems."  (i.  2.  21*-S13.)  This  singing  of  anthems  was,  of 
course,  as  characteristic  of  the  Puritans  in  Shakespeare's  time  as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  Cromwell.  It  is  noticeable,  however,  that  the 
Biblical  allusions  are  much  more  numerous  in  the  First  Part  than  in 
the  Second ;  e.g. : 

"As  ragged  as  Lazarus  in  the  painted  cloth  when  the  glutton's 
dogs  licked  his  sores."  ' 

"Dost  thou  hear,  Hal?  thou  knowest  in  the  state  of  innocency 
Adam  fell ;  and  what  should  poor  Jack  Falstaff  do  in  the  days  of 
villany?  thou  seest  I  have  more  flesh  than  another  man,  and  there- 
fore more  frailty."  2 

"I  never  see  thy  face  but  I  think  upon  hell-fire  and  Dives 
that  lived  in  purple;  for  there  he  is  in  his  robes,  burning, 
burning."  3 

By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  Second  Part,  however,  Shake- 
speare was  drawing  more  purely  from  the  figure  in  his  mind's  eye 
and  thinking  less  of  his  renegade  Puritan. 

Much  of  the  humor  of  the  scenes  with  Poins  and  Prince  Hal  in 
the  First  Part  consists  in  Falstaff's  continual  assumption  that 
before  he  knew  the  Prince  he  knew  nothing,  and  in  his  ingenious 
misapplication  of  scriptural  phraseology.  But  this  element  grad- 
ually decreases ;  there  is  no  assumption  of  pristine  virtue  in  the 
scenes  with  Justice  Shallow,  where  Falstaff  humors  the  Justice 
by  confessing  to  a  wild  youth,  and,  in  the  famous  soliloquy  on  the 
virtues  of  sack,  the  virtue  is  the  most  anti-Puritan  glorification  of 
"sherris,"  the  epicure  complete  and  perfect,  justifying  his  appe- 
tites under  the  pretence  of  medical  utility. 

There  can,  however,  be  little  doubt  that  Shakespeare  originally 
intended  the  character  of  Falstaff  as  a  satire  upon  the  Puritans. 
It  is  noticeable  that  practically  all  Shakespeare's  satires  upon  the 
Puritans  —  the  character  of  Malvolio  in  Twelfth  Night,  of  Angelo 
in  Measure  for  Measure,  and  possibly  of  Don  John  in  Much  Ado 
about  Nothing  —  occur  in  plays  written  about  this  time,  which 
was  just  the  period  of  the  great  Puritan  assault  upon  the  theatre, 
when  the  City  Fathers  almost  succeeded  in  suppressing  the  drama. 

1  /  Henry  IV.  iv.  2.  27-2S.  *  Ibid.,  in.  3.  185-189. 

*  Ibid.,  iii.  3.  35-37. 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

In  1596,  the  City  Fathers  commenced  a  bitter  compaign  against 
the  players.  The  Puritan  Lord  Cobham  entered  upon  his  office  as 
Lord  Chamberlain  and,  in  the  same  year,  we  find  Nashe  complain- 
ing: "The  players  are  piteously  persecuted  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
aldermen,  and  however  in  their  old  Lord's  (the  late  Lord  Hunsdon's) 
time  they  thought  their  state  settled,  'tis  now  so  uncertain  they 
cannot  build  upon  it."  1  On  July  28,  1597,  the  Privy  Council,  at 
the  Lord  Mayor's  suggestion,  ordered  all  playhouses  within  a 
radius  of  three  miles  to  be  pulled  down.  This  order  was  not 
carried  out ;  but  the  struggle  continued  for  several  years  longer. 

In  July,  1598,  the  vestry  of  St.  Saviour's  parish,  Southwark, 
tried  to  suppress  the  playhouses  on  the  Bankside,  though  without 
success.  In  1600,  the  Lord  Mayor  and  his  colleagues  were  once 
more  petitioning  the  Privy  Council  against  the  players.  Very 
severe  restrictions  were,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  decreed,  though  they 
remained  largely  a  dead  letter;  but  1601  must  have  been  a  most 
anxious  year  for  the  players,  who  saw  their  profession  legally  pro- 
scribed and  must  have  felt  their  whole  position  insecure. 

If  we  turn  now  to  the  dates  of  Shakespeare's  anti-Puritan  come- 
dies, we  find  them  generally  accepted  as  follows :  Twelfth  Night, 
1600  or  1601,  Measure  for  Measure,  1603  or  1604,  and  the  First 
Part  of  Henry  IV,  probably  written  in  1596-1597.  The  date  of 
production  of  1  Henry  IV  on  the  stage  may  have  been  the  very 
same  year  that  Lord  Cobham  was  appointed  Lord  Chancellor,  and, 
when  he  protested  against  the  character  of  Oldcastle  as  an  annoy- 
ance to  himself,  it  is  exceedingly  probable  that  he  had  just  cause, 
that  it  was  indeed  so  intended,  and  that  the  connection  with  him 
would  be  seen  and  laughed  at  by  the  audience. 

When  we  consider  the  fierceness  and  acrimony  with  which  the 
controversy  of  Puritans  versus  players  was  usually  conducted,  we  can 
only  wonder  at  Shakespeare's  mildness.  In  not  one  of  his  Puritan 
characters  have  we  the  same  ferocity  of  attack  as  in  Ben  Jonson's 
Zeal-of-the-Land-Busy,  or  Tribulation  Wholesome,  or  Ananias. 
In  Shakespeare  the  satire  is  less  malevolent,  less  circumscribed,  and 
much  more  universal ;  none  the  less  he  well  portrays  the  characteris- 
tic faults  to  which  the  Puritan  temper  was  liable.  In  Angelo  we 
have  the  gravest  of  all  their  faults  —  undue  severity,  asceticism, 
and  self-righteousness  passing  into  lust,  cruelty,  and  loathsome 
hypocrisy;  in  Malvolio  we  have  their  self-sufficiency  and  self- 
righteousness  leading  to  egregious  vanity;  while  in  Falstaff's 
character  there  is  the  insinuation  that  the  moral  pretentiousness  of 
1  Sir  Sidney  Lee,  Life  of  Shakespeare. 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

the  Puritan  only  prepares  the  way  for  a  much  greater  epicureanism 
and  .scn.suulity  than  that  of  the  ordinary  man. 

For  the  ciiarartcr  of  Falstaff  Shakes|»eare  may  also  have  received 
hints  from  one  of  his  contemporaries,  Chettle.  In  Dekker's  tract, 
A  Knight's  Conjuring,  Chettle  figures  among  the  poets  in  Elysium : 

"In  comes  Chettle  sweating  and  blowing  by  reason  of  his  fat- 
ness; to  welcome  whom,  because  he  was  of  olde  acquaintance,  all 
rose  up  and  fell  presently  on  their  knees  to  drink  a  health  to  all 
the  lovers  of  Helicon." 

This  picture  of  a  fat  man,  received  with  mock  reverence  and  taken 
as  a  sort  of  Bacchic  divinity,  agrees  very  well  with  the  character 
of  Falstaff;  and  it  has  further  been  pointed  out  that  Falstaff's 
personal  appearance  is  repeatedly  described  in  a  way  that  suggests 
a  living  original.1 

We  find  also  that  there  are  other  traits  which  tally  :  thus,  Chettle 
certainly  had  a  great  contemporary  reputation  for  wit ;  most  of  his 
plays  have  perished,  but  Meres  in  his  Palladia  Tamia  describes  him 
as  "one  of  our  best  for  comedy."  Again,  a  reference  to  Henslowe's 
diary  shows  that  no  one  required  more  systematic  financial  relief; 
Chettle  was  very  often  in  debt  and  not  infrequently  in  prison  for 
debt.  Such  a  character  —  fat,  witty,  the  best  of  boon  companions, 
notoriously  impecunious — may  well  have  supplied  hints  for 
Falstaff. 

We  know  that  Elizabethan  dramatists  did  often,  as  in  Ben 
Jonson's  Poetaster,  place  each  other  upon  the  stage;  and  contem- 
porary portraits  and  topical  allusions  gave  life  to  many  a  drama. 
But  when  we  add  together  all  the  hints  that  Shakespeare  may  have 
got  from  the  traditional  character  of  Oldcastle  and  all  that  he  may 
have  got  from  Chettle,  the  fact  remains  that  no  one  but  himself 
could  have  created  Falstaff  from  the  combination.  The  character 
of  Falstaff  is  one  of  the  richest  and  most  complex  in  Shakespeare, 
and  we  cannot  but  believe  that  a  great  part  of  its  extraordinary 
fascination  may  be  traced  to  the  fact  that  the  author  seems  to  have 
made  the  fat  knight  his  chief  mouthpiece  for  one  side  of  his  own 
character.  Just  as  we  feel  that  in  Hamlet  Shakespeare  has  ex- 
pressed much  of  his  own  philosophy,  so  in  Falstaff  he  seems  to  have 
expressed  his  own  most  vivid  sense  of  humor  and  his  overflowing 
good-natured  fun.  There  is  no  character  in  Shakespeare  who 
possesses  so  much  humor  as  Falstaff ;  he  abounds  with  it  on  every 
possible  occasion  and  the  slightest  hint  is  sufficient  to  set  him  off. 
He  sees  the  comic  side  of  everything  —  the  Prince's  slender  figure, 
'  A.  W.  Ward. 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

Bardolph's  fiery  face,  the  name  of  Bullcalf.  No  incident  is  too 
trivial  to  serve  him  as  matter  for  fun ;  and  it  is  a  main  part  of  his 
extraordinary  fascination  that  we  feel  it  would  be  impossible  ever 
to  be  fatigued  or  bored  in  his  company.  He  is  as  witty  as  Benedick 
or  Mercutio,  but  he  notices  many  kinds  of  things  which  they  would 
have  thought  beneath  them ;  nor  is  his  humor  only  on  the  surface, 
or  of  the  cut-and-thrust  rapier  style.  Falstaff  is  also  a  most 
shrewd  and  penetrating  student  of  human  nature.  He  is  as  much 
interested  in  mankind  as  Hamlet  himself;  he  analyzes  human 
beings  as  skilfully  and  sees  to  the  heart  of  them  as  profoundly. 
But  whereas  Hamlet  is  an  idealist  and  is  always  contrasting  men, 
ironically  and  tragically,  with  his  own  superb  vision  of  what  human 
nature  ought  to  be,  Falstaff,  in  his  studies,  has  no  such  sad  purpose. 
There  is  for  him  no  eternal  and  tragic  contrast  between  the  thing 
as  it  is  and  the  thing  as  it  might  have  been ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
just  this  opposition  which  for  him  makes  the  essence  of  the  fun. 
He  studies  men,  partly  for  the  delight  of  his  own  humorous  analysis, 
partly  because  he  wants  to  make  his  profit  out  of  their  failings, 
but  chiefly,  it  would  seem,  for  the  sake  of  storing  up  material  to 
make  the  Prince  laugh  "without  intervallums."  He  always  says 
the  last  word  on  a  character  and  can  sum  up  a  man  in  a  single  tell- 
ing phrase,  as  when  he  says  of  the  boastful  coward,  Pistol,  "he'll 
not  swagger  with  a  Barbary  hen,  if  her  feathers  turn  back  in  any 
show  of  resistance" ;  or  when  he  remarks  of  Prince  John,  "a  man 
cannot  make  him  laugh" ;  or  when  he  notes  what  he  calls  the  "sem- 
blable  coherence"  in  the  household  of  Justice  Shallow,  how  his 
men  "  by  observing  of  him,  do  bear  themselves  like  foolish  justices."1 
He  understands  to  the  full  the  fantastic  vanity  which  makes  Shallow 
desire  to  have  been  thought  a  rake  in  his  youth. 

It  is  this  profound,  shrewd  analysis  which  gives  so  much  depth  to 
the  humor  of  Falstaff.  Moreover,  his  interest  in  character  is 
universal.  He  is  proud  of  understanding  princes;  he  has  been 
friendly  with  John  of  Gaunt  and  still  recalls  with  pleasure  how 
they  jested  together ;  he  is  immensely  pro'ud  of  being  on  terms  of 
equal  intimacy  with  Prince  Hal ;  yet  he  sees  all  the  comedy  of  such 
ruffians  as  Pistol  and  Bardolph  and  of  such  clumsy  yokels  as  Bull- 
calf  and  Feeble.  It  is  with  a  similar  impartial  breadth  of  observa- 
tion that  Hamlet  analyzes  the  king  and  Osric,  Polonius,  the  players, 
and  the  gravediggers. 

Yet,  again,  Falstaff  shows  his  wonderful  candor  in  the  frankness 
with  which  he  regards  himself.     His  own  fatness  amuses  him  quite 
>  v.  1.  74-76. 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

as  much  as  it  can  possibly  amuse  his  friends  :  "I  am  not  only  witty 
in  myself;  but  the  cause  that  wit  is  in  other  men.  I  do  here  walk 
before  thee  like  a  sow  that  hath  overwhelmed  all  her  litter  but 
one."'  He  fully  enjoys  the  ridiculous  contrast  between  himself 
and  his  tiny  page,  and  declares:  "If  the  prince  put  thee  into  my 
service  for  any  other  reason  than  to  set  me  off,  why  then  I  have  no 
judgement  .  .  .  thou  art  fitter  to  be  worn  in  my  rap  than  to  wait 
at  my  heels  ...  I  will  inset  you  .  .  .  and  send  you  back  again 
to  your  master,  for  a  jewel."  2 

Falstaff  knows  his  own  faults  thoroughly  and  does  not  attempt 
to  hide  them,  which  would  be  absurd,  nor  to  defend  them,  which 
would  be  hypocritical ;  he  is  clever  enough  to  know  that  the  only 
thing  that  can  be  done  with  such  failings  is  to  confess  them  frankly 
and  turn  them  into  ridicule :  "  I  can  get  no  remedy  against  this 
consumption  of  the  purse :  borrowing  only  lingers  and  lingers  it 
out,  but  the  disease  is  incurable."  *  He  does  not  deny  that  he  is 
a  drunkard  ;  but  he  defends  sherris  sack  with  reasons  he  knows  to 
be  magnificently  absurd.  Topers  have  been  known  to  use  similar 
arguments  in  all  seriousness ;  but  Falstaff  is  ridiculing  their  excuses 
and  his  own.  In  this  respect,  we  see  again  the  contrast  between 
Falstaff  and  Hamlet,  who  knows  all  his  own  faults  so  well  and  re- 
grets them  so  deeply. 

If  this  power  of  keen,  clear-sighted  analysis,  both  of  himself 
and  of  others,  adds  depth  to  the  character  of  Falstaff,  so  again 
depth  is  added  by  his  education  and  his  knowledge.  Shakespeare's 
original  —  Oldcastle  —  was,  of  course,  a  man  of  culture  and 
attainments,  and  the  poet  was  justified  in  representing  Falstaff 
as  being  the  same.  We  have  seen  that  he  is  fond  of  scriptural 
allusions,  brought  in  with  exquisitely  managed  misappropriate- 
ness.  He  is  also  fond  of  classical  allusions :  he  commences  a 
letter  to  the  Prince  by  saying,  "I  will  imitate  the  honourable 
Romans  in  brevity";  and,  when  he  has  overcome  Sir  John  Cole- 
vile,  he  declares  :  "  he  saw  me  and  yielded ;  that  I  may  jusUy  say 
with  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,  'I  came,  saw  and  overcame.'" 

Here  again  he  forms  the  comic  contrast  to  the  tragic  seriousness 
of  Hamlet,  who  also  was  fond  of  alluding  to  Caesar  —  but  in  how 
different  a  spirit ! 

"Imperial  Caesar,  dead  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away."  4 

»  i.  2.  11-14.  » i.  2.  14-22.  «  ».  2.  4-6. 

*  Hamlet,  v.  1.  238-23U. 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

Falstaff's  summary  of  the  effect  of  "sherris"  on  the  human  body 
reveals  his  acquaintance  with  the  anatomy  and  physiology  of  the 
time;  and  his  analysis  of  honor  is  a  satire  on  the  principles  of 
casuistry.1  He  ridicules  the  subtleties  of  schoolmen  and  Jesuits; 
you  can  prove  anything  to  be  anything  by  his  methods  and  he  knows 
you  can.  Falstaff's  well-stored  mind  often  enables  him  to  escape 
from  the  most  difficult  position  by  a  happy  thought ;  thus,  when 
all  his  other  shifts  are  exposed,  he  suddenly  recollects  that  "the 
lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince"  and  that  therefore  he  was  "a 
coward  on  instinct."  Of  course  he  sees  the  absurdity  of  this  strange 
natural  history;  but  that,  again,  is  part  of  the  joke.2 

Another  characteristic  of  Falstaff's  humor  is  its  good  temper.  In 
most  wit  there  is  the  spice  of  malice.  The  courtly  Benedick  and 
Beatrice  "  talk  daggers  "  and  often  wound  each  other ;  but  Falstaff's 
wit  is  as  wholly  devoid  of  malice  as  Rosalind's ;  he  might  say  with 
her  that  "  it  would  not  hurt  a  fly."  With  his  unrivalled  keenness  of 
analysis  he  must  have  possessed  equally  unrivalled  powers  of  wound- 
ing people;  but  he  never  uses  them;  and  it  is  not  policy  which 
keeps  him  from  malice,  but  sheer  good  temper.  In  precisely  the 
same  way  as  he  sees  and  pardons  his  own  faults  because  of  their 
humorous  aspects,  he  sees  and  pardons  the  faults  of  others.  It  is 
perhaps  the  main  reason  why  we  are  so  indulgent  to  him  —  because 
he  himself  is  indulgent  to  everyone  else.  There  is  not  in  him  the 
remotest  likeness  to  those  Pharisees  who 

"  Compound  for  sins  they  are  inclined  to 
By  damning  those  they  have  no  mind  to." 

When  he  is  chuckling  over  the  inventions  of  Justice  Shallow,  he 
says,  "Lord  !  Lord  !  How  subject  we  old  men  are  to  this  vice  of 
lying."  It  is  true  that  he  teases  Bardolph  concerning  his  fiery 
face  and  the  boy  for  his  minuteness ;  but  then,  as  he  does  not  mind 
laughter  at  his  own  personal  appearance,  he  cannot  quite  see  why 
anyone  else  should  object. 

It  should  be  noticed  how  often  Falstaff's  superiority  in  the  play 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  he  can  face  the  truth  about  himself  while 
no  one  else  is  able  to  do  so.  For  instance,  when  he  calls  Doll 
Tearsheet  "this  light  flesh  and  corrupt  blood,"  she  breaks  out  into 
instant  anger,  although  she  knows  the  accusation  is  true.  Nor  does 
Falstaff  reveal  any  malice  against  those  who  rebuke  him,  such  as 
the  Chief  Justice  and  Prince  John.  By  his  imperturbable  good 

1 1  Henry  IV,  v.  1.  131-144.  *  /  Henry  IV,  ii.  4.  300-301. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

humor  he  almost  wins  over  the  Chief  Justice;  and  although  Prince 
John  is  too  young  and  too  crude  to  be  fascinated,  Falstaff  only 
pities  him  for  his  defective  sense  of  humor,  which  is,  as  he  justly 
perceives,  one  of  the  greatest  of  human  misfortunes. 

It  is  also  noticeable  that  Falstaff  does  no  real  damage  to  anyone; 
cruelty  is  no  part  of  his  nature  and  his  worst  depredations  win  pardon 
because,  like  those  of  Robin  Hood,  they  are  effected  upon  people 
who  really  deserve  them.  Falstaff  sponges  on  the  hostess,  tricks 
her  out  of  money,  and  persuades  her  to  pawn  her  plate;  but  is  it 
really  possible  to  sympathize  very  deeply  with  the  good,  compla- 
cent woman  who  is  hostess  to  Doll  Tearsheet  ?  Falstaff  inveigles 
Justice  Shallow  out  of  a  thousand  pounds;  but  is  it  possible  to 
feel  much  sympathy  for  a  person  so  full  of  mean  miserliness? 
Does  he  not  deserve  to  lose  his  money  for  stopping  William's  wages 
in  order  to  pay  for  the  sack  lost  at  Hinckley  Fair,  and  for  countless 
other  mean  things  we  know  he  must  have  done?  There  is  poetic 
justice  in  the  thought  that,  after  years  and  years  of  such  cheese- 
paring, it  is  all  snatched  from  him  in  one  fell  swoop  by  Falstaff. 

It  must  be  observed,  too,  that  Falstaff  is  no  coward.  In  a  long 
and  able  essay  an  eighteenth-century  critic,  Maurice  Morgann,  has 
argued  the  point  and  has  shown  that  Falstaff  lacks  the  chief  char- 
acteristic of  the  coward  —  genuine  fright.  On  the  contrary, 
under  the  most  difficult  circumstances  he  invariably  retains  his 
presence  of  mind.  He  does  not  wish  to  be  killed  by  Douglas,  so 
he  hides;  but  he  is  quite  calm  enough  to  jest  about  the  matter. 
He  has  led  his  vassals  where  they  are  so  "well-peppered"  that  there 
are  hardly  any  of  them  left  alive.  It  is  noticeable,  also,  that  he 
really  has  a  reputation  for  courage,  for  he  certainly  is  in  demand  as 
a  soldier  : 

"There  is  not  a  dangerous  action  can  peep  out  his  head  but  I 
am  thrust  upon  it :  well,  I  cannot  last  ever :  but  it  was  alway  yet 
the  trick  of  our  English  nation,  if  they  have  a  good  thing,  to  make 
it  too  common.  If  ye  will  needs  say  I  am  an  old  man,  you  should 
give  me  rest.  I  would  to  God  my  name  were  not  so  terrible  to  the 
enemy  as  it  is."  '  This  is  a  humorous  exaggeration,  of  course,  but 
it  has  its  element  of  truth;  and  it  is  noteworthy  that  Sir  John 
Colevile  yields  to  the  great  reputation  of  Falstaff  as  he  certainly 
would  not  yield  to  that  of  an  unknown  person.  There  is  no  hint 
that  Sir  John  Colevile  is  meant  to  be  a  coward  of  the  Pistol  type ; 
he  seems  to  be  a  genuinely  valiant  gentleman.  Prince  John  calls 
him  "a  famous  rebel,"  and  yet  he  says  :  "  I  think  you  are  Sir  John 
«  i.  2.  238-245. 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

Falstaff  and  in  that  thought  yield  me."  l  A  man  of  valor  would 
not  yield  at  the  mere  reputation  of  Falstaff,  were  the  latter  really  a 
coward.  Throughout  the  two  plays  Falstaff  acts  on  the  assumption 
that  everyone  will  accept  him  as  a  man  of  reasonable  courage,  and 
practically  everyone  does.  Even  his  boon  companions  cannot 
presume  too  far,  for,  when  Pistol  becomes  really  impertinent, 
Falstaff  soon  puts  an  end  to  it.  "Give  me  my  rapier,  boy,"  he 
demands  of  the  page,  and  Pistol  is  immediately  expelled  down- 
stairs. Doll  tells  Falstaff  that  he  is  as  valorous  as  Hector  of  Troy 
and  worth  five  of  Agamemnon;  and  one  thing  is  certain  that,  as 
soon  as  he  chooses  to  exert  himself,  he  is  the  acknowledged  master. 

But  we  cannot  help  thinking  that  most  critics  are  inclined  to 
take  Falstaff's  vices  more  seriously  than  his  creator  intended.  It 
is  the  scene  of  Henry  V's  public  repudiation  which  has  done  so 
much  damage  to  Falstaff's  character  in  the  eyes  of  posterity ;  but  in 
Shakespeare's  original,  as  has  been  said,  the  repudiation  was  largely 
for  heresy,  which  really  alters  the  whole  moral  aspect  of  the  matter. 
In  the  original  version  the  fun  lay  in  representing  a  leading  Puritan 
as  an  arch-epicure,  in  making  Oldcastle  satirize  every  single  one 
of  the  Puritan  doctrines  in  his  own  person  and  be  the  exact  opposite 
of  everything  a  Puritan  was  supposed  to  be ;  and  if  we  remember 
that  his  descendant  was,  at  that  very  moment,  engaged  in  Puritani- 
cally trying  to  suppress  the  theatre,  the  fun  becomes  uproarious. 

Grouped  around  Falstaff  are  his  amusing  lieutenants.  Here 
Shakespeare  shows  a  temporary  concession  to  the  "comedy  of 
humours"  which  had  just  become  popular  about  this  time  (1598— 
1600),  and  of  which  Ben  Jonson  was  the  chief  exponent.  Pistol, 
Bardolph,  the  Hostess,  Doll  Tearsheet,  Justice  Shallow,  and  Silence 
are  all  examples  of  these  "humours."  Pistol,  particularly,  is  a 
full-blown  specimen ;  he  is  what  Falstaff  is  not,  —  a  real  coward,  — 
and,  though  his  swagger  and  bluster  can  deceive  for  a  time,  he  can 
be  "put  down"  by  anyone  who  takes  the  trouble,  —  by  Falstaff, 
by  Fluellen,  even  by  Doll  Tearsheet,  who  soon  gets  the  better  of 
him  in  a  scolding  match.  In  his  swagger  and  his  arrogance  and 
his  pitiable  surrenders,  Pistol  resembles  the  coward  of  all  ages  and 
times;  but  he  is  marked  of  the  sixteenth  century  by  his  peculiar 
playhouse  rant.  He  is  Shakespeare's  humorous  study  of  the  effect 
of  Elizabethan  tragedy  upon  the  "groundlings."  His  conversation 
is  made  up  of  tags  of  plays  imperfectly  remembered.  Even  in  his 
quarrels  with  Doll,  he  quotes  the  most  deeply  serious  of  tragedies, 
and  involves  Pluto  and  Erebus.  Incidentally,  we  may  observe, 
>  iv.  3.  18-19. 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

Pistol  exhibits  Shakespeare's  laughter  at  his  own  early  preferences. 
There  certainly  was  a  time  when  the  dramatist  had  an  intense 
admiration  for  Marlowe;  but  there  was  a  side  of  Marlowe  which 
irresistibly  appealed  to  Shakespeare's  sense  of  humor,  and  it  is  in 
Pistol  that  we  have  proof  of  this ;  the  famous  and  absurd  scene  in 
which  Tamburlaine  compels  a  "yoke  of  kings"  to  draw  his  chariot 
is  parodied  in : 

"  Shall  pack-horses 
And  hollow  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia, 
Which  cannot  R«  hut  thirty  mile  a-day, 
Compare  with  Caesars,  and  with  Cannibals, 
And  Trojun  Greeks?"     (ii.  4.  177-181.) 

He  addresses  the  Hostess  as  if  she  were  a  romantic  heroine ! 
"Then  feed  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis,"1  has  all  the  stage  love 
of  elaborate  courtesies  and  furious  rages.  "  Sweet  knight,  I  kiss 
thy  neif,"  he  says  to  Fiilstaff,  and,  a  moment  later,  is  drawing  his 
dagger  and  threatening  murder. 

Another  weakness  of  the  Elizabethan  stage  which  Shakespeare 
exposes  through  Pistol  is  the  bombast  which  made  many  writers 
seem  almost  unable  to  employ  simple  words.  "  \Vhnt !  shall  we 
have  incision  ?  shall  we  imbrue  ?  "  2  There  is  also  the  satire  on  the 
abuse  of  alliteration,  another  trait  of  the  extravagant  Elizabethan 
play: 

"abridge  my  doleful  days! 

Why,  then,  let  grievous,  ghastly,  gaping  wounds 
Untwine  the  Sisters  Three."     (ii.  4.  11-13.) 

Mrs.  Quickly  and  Doll  Tearsheet  are  perhaps  even  more  masterly 
as  character  studies  because  less  extreme.  Mrs.  Quickly  has,  how- 
ever, the  marks  of  a  character  of  "humours" ;  she  is  strongly  dis- 
tinguished by  certain  tricks  both  of  thought  and  of  speech ;  her 
forte  is  her  curious  habit  of  repetition  and  her  fantastic  habit  of 
employing  words  in  wrong  senses.  She  is  the  precursor  of  Mrs. 
Malaprop  and  all  the  other  amusing  misappliers  of  language;  she 
forms  a  sort  of  feminine  counterpart  to  Dogberry,  whom  also 
Shakespeare  created  about  the  same  time.  Hut  Mrs.  Quickly  is 
more  than  this  :  she  is  a  finished  study  of  the  London  hostess  of  the 
less  particular  type.  She  is  sufficiently  well-to-do  to  possess  hang- 
ings of  genuine  arras,  and  silver  plate,  for  we  can  hardly  take 
Falstaff's  word  for  it  that  her  plate  —  which  had  been  pawned  for 
him  and  which  he  was  therefore  naturally  anxious  to  disparage  — 
>  ii.  4.  193.  *  ii.  4.  210. 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

was  only  "parcel-gilt."  She  is  keenly  alive  to  the  triumph  it 
would  be  to  possess  Falstaff's  hand  and  to  be  "my  lady  thy  wife." 
She  is  immensely  complimented  when  he  tells  her  that  she  must 
hold  herself  aloof  and  no  longer  be  on  familiar  terms  with  her  poor 
neighbors,  who  shall,  ere  long,  call  her  "madam."  But  Mrs. 
Quickly  is  complacent  enough  to  receive  Doll  Tearsheet  and  to 
treat  her  as  an  intimate  friend. 

There  is  a  certain  difficulty  over  the  curious  doubling  of  the 
character  which  occurs  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.  Is  the 
Mrs.  Quickly  of  that  play  to  be  considered  as  the  same  person 
or  is  she  not?  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  the  fact  that  she  is 
installed  in  Windsor  and  not  in  Eastcheap ;  and  also  her  position 
is  different.  Sir  Hugh  Evans  says  that  she  dwells  in  the  house  of 
Doctor  Caiws  and  is  "in  the  manner  of  his  nurse  or  his  dry  nurse, 
or  his  cook,  or  his  laundry,  his  washer,  and  his  wringer."1  On 
the  other  hand,  she  has  the  same  tricks  of  speech ;  she  indulges 
in  long  desultory  conversations  over  all  the  details  of  life;  she 
perverts  language  in  exactly  the  same  way:  "but,  I  detest,  as 
honest  a  maid  as  ever  broke  bread" ;  or  "she  is  given  too  much  to 
allicholy  and  musing";  or  "you  have  brought  her  into  such  a 
canaries  as  'tis  wonderful." 

Like  the  Mrs.  Quickly  of  Henry  IV,  she  has,  also,  a  most  accom- 
modating morality  and  is  quite  ready  to  help  Falstaff  in  his  in- 
trigues with  Mrs.  Ford.  She  has  also  the  same  innate  conviction 
that  she  is  an  honest  woman.  In  Henry  IV  she  makes  a  great 
outcry  to  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  when  Falstaff  accuses  her,  and  in 
The  Merry  Wives  she  advises  Falstaff  not  to  let  the  true  nature  of 
the  message  to  Mrs.  Ford  be  known  to  the  tiny  page :  "for  'tis  not 
good  that  children  should  know  any  wickedness."  In  both  plays, 
indeed,  she  is  the  perfect  type  of  the  accommodating  woman  who 
likes  to  think  herself  respectable.  In  The  Merry  Wives  she  has 
certainly  the  better  reputation,  for  it  is  difficult  to  think  of  the 
Mrs.  Quickly  of  Henry  IV  being  accepted  as  the  trusted  confidant 
of  Anne  Page.  The  conclusion  is  that  both  Mrs.  Quickly  and  Fal- 
staff apparently  are  meant  to  be  the  same  personages  throughout, 
but  that,  writing  The  Merry  Wives  in  haste,  Shakespeare  neglected 
to  make  the  characters  thoroughly  consistent.  If  there  are  dis- 
crepancies in  the  character  of  Mrs.  Quickly,  they  are,  after  all, 
nothing  as  compared  with  the  many  discrepancies  in  the  character 
of  Falstaff,  who,  matchless  in  Henry  IV,  becomes  himself  a  butt 
in  The  Merry  Wives. 

>  Merry  Wives,  i.  2.  3-0. 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

If  there  is  any  chronology  in  such  matters.  The  Merry  Wives 
may  l>e  placed  in  some  period  of  Falstaff's  life  anterior  to  Henry  IV , 
or,  at  least,  anterior  to  the  closing  scenes  of  that  play ;  for,  whatever 
else  is  wrong  with  Falstaff,  he  is  certainly  not  suffering  from  the 
"fracted  and  corroborate"  heart  which  we  know,  on  the  authority 
of  Pistol,  afflicted  him  after  his  repudiation  by  Henry  V. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  Mrs.  Quickly's  progress  in  life  is  a  melan- 
choly one.  Having  failed  in  achieving  the  hand  of  Falstaff,  she 
marries  Pistol  —  a  great  declension  —  and  the  last  we  hear  of  her 
is  in  the  words  of  her  husband  : 

"News  have  I,  that  my  Xell  is  dead  i'  the  spital 
Of  malady  of  France, 
And  there  my  rendezvous  is  quite  cut  off."  ' 

With  all  his  tolerance  for  human  frailty,  with  all  his  immense 
kindness  of  heart,  Shakespeare  shows  unmistakably  the  end  of 
complaisance. 

Another  admirable  study  is  the  character  of  Doll  Tearsheet.  She 
too  is  treated  indulgently;  there  is  nothing  of  the  vast  ironic 
bitterness  which  depicts  Mrs.  Overdone  in  Measure  for  Measure. 
Doll  has  her  dignity,  such  as  it  is,  and  will  not  permit  Pistol  to 
insult  her  or  even  Falstaff  to  treat  her  too  lightly.  Like  all  the 
rest  who  associate  with  him,  —  Prince  John  alone  excepted,  —  she 
feels  the  fascination  of  Falstaff;  when  he  has  to  go  away  to  the 
wars  she  weeps,  with  absolute  sincerity,  real  tears;  Pistol  also 
pronounces  the  final  epithet  upon  her  when  he  tells  us  that  she  has 
paid  the  usual  penalty  of  her  trade. 

The  scenes  with  Justice  Shallow  take  us  into  a  new  and  very  de- 
lightful atmosphere,  dealing 'with  Shakespeare's  own  neighborhood. 
A  very  early  tradition  identifies  Justice  Shallow  with  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy  of  Charlecote  Manor,  the  largest  landowner  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Stratford.  According  to  Shakespeare's  earliest  biographer, 
Rowe  (1709),  the  poet  was  compelled  to  leave  Stratford  because  he 
got  into  difficulties  with  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  over  a  poaching  affray. 
Rowe's  account  runs  as  follows : 

"He  had,  by  a  misfortune  common  enough  to  young  fellows, 
fallen  into  ill  company;  and,  amongst  them,  some  that  made  a 
frequent  practice  of  deer-stealing,  engaged  him  with  thorn  more  than 
once  in  robbing  a  park  that  belonged  to  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  of  Charle- 
cote near  Stratford.  For  this  he  was  prosecuted  by  that  gentleman, 
as  he  thought,  somewhat  too  severely ;  and,  in  order  to  revenge  that 

>  Henry  V,  \.  1.  85-87. 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

ill-usage,  he  made  a  ballad  upon  him,  and  though  this,  probably 
the  first  essay  of  his  poetry,  be  lost,  yet  it  is  said  to  have  been  so 
very  bitter  that  it  redoubled  the  prosecution  against  him  to  that 
degre?  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave  his  business  and  family  in 
Warwickshire  for  some  time  and  shelter  himself  in  London." 

There  is  also  the  independent  testimony  of  Archdeacon  Richard 
Davies,  vicar  of  Sapperton,  Gloucestershire,  in  the  late  seventeenth 
century,  to  the  effect  that  Shakespeare  stole  venison  and  rabbits, 
particularly  from  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  who  had  him  whipped  and  im- 
prisoned and  finally  compelled  him  to  fly  from  Stratford.  Arch- 
deacon Davies  adds  that  Shakespeare's  revenge  was  so  great  that 
he  caricatured  Lucy  as  "Justice  Clodpate."  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  this  story  has  a  real  foundation  of  fact,  for  there  are 
several  allusions  which  make  practically  certain  the  identity  of 
Justice  Shallow  with  Lucy. 

In  The  Merry  Wives  Justice  Shallow  is  represented  as  having  come 
from  Gloucestershire  to  Windsor  to  make  a  Star-Chamber  matter  of 
a  poaching  raid  on  his  estate.  The  historic  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  was 
well  known  for  his  Parliamentary  activities  in  connection  with 
game,  and  in  one  year  (1584)  he  was  intrusted  with  a  bill  for  "The 
Preservation  of  Grain  and  Game."  But  the  identification  is  made 
certain  by  two  passages,  —  one  in  the  opening  scene  of  The  Merry 
Wives,  where  Shakespeare  makes  Sir  Hugh  Evans  mock  at  Lucy's 
coat-of-arms :  "The  dozen  white  louses  do  become  an  old  coat 
well" ;  and  the  other  the  passage  in  the  present  text  where  Justice 
Shallow  is  described  as  "the  old  pike,"  Shakespeare  thus  making 
a  pun  on  the  generally  accepted  meaning  of  the  name  "Lucy." 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  deer-stealing  episode,  whatever 
its  exact  nature  may  have  been,  is  recollected  in  Justice  Shallow's 
quarrel  with  Falstaff : 

"  Knight !  you  have  beaten  my  men,  killed  my  deer  and  broken 
down  my  lodge,"  to  which  Falstaff  replies  with  the  characteristically 
impudent,  "But  not  kissed  your  keeper's  daughter." 

Falstaff,  with  his  inimitable  effrontery,  presents  some  of  the  veni- 
son to  the  page,  who  thanks  Shallow  for  it,  provoking  the  latter 
to  remark:  "It  was  ill-killed." 

Sir  Thomas  Lucy  was  certainly  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  and  was 
very  active  indeed  in  that  capacity.  The  humor  of  the  situation  is 
very  greatly  increased  when  we  learn  that  he  was  also  considered  a 
Puritan,  and  had  been  very  active  in  hunting  down  recusants. 
Thus  Shakespeare's  portrait  of  him  would  be  another  of  the  Puritan 
satires  in  which  the  plays  of  this  period  abound. 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

Objections  have  been  rawed  to  this  interpretation  on  two  grounds, 
one  that  the  Charleeotc  deer  park  was  of  later  date  than  the  six- 
teenth century,  and  the  other  that  Justice  Shallow  is  by  no  means 
an  exact  portrait  of  Lucy,  since  the  latter  had  a  wife  and  family, 
while  Justice  Shallow  is  depicted  as  a  bachelor,  is  not  a  knight, 
and  has  no  title.1  It  may,  however,  be  pointed  out  in  answer 
that  Lucy  was  certainly  a  game-preserver  and  that,  if  he  did  not 
own  what  wa.s  technically  termed  a  deer  park,  he  certainly  owned 
a  warren  where  deer  might  well  be  kept. 

Again,  it  is  quite  true  that  Shakespeare  does  not  represent  him 
as  a  knight;  but  it  would  have  been  most  impolitic  to  present  a 
portrait  too  absolutely  exact,  so  that  Lucy  could  indeed  have  made 
a  "Star-Chamber"  matter  of  it.  Shakespeare  had  already  got 
himself  into  trouble  over  the  first  part  of  Henry  IV,  and  a  detailed 
portrait  of  Lucy  might  well  have  got  him  into  trouble  over  the  second 
part  also;  such  prosecutions  were  really  quite  common.  The  por- 
trait was  sufficient  for  everyone  to  know  who  was  intended ;  but 
it  was  not  sufficiently  detailed  to  impel  Lucy  to  take  action.  The 
portrait  is  not  a  bitter  one,  because  it  accuses  Lucy  of  no  real  crimes ; 
but  it  is  a  masterly  piece  of  mischief-making. 

\Vhen  we  remember  that  Lucy  was  a  Puritan,  we  see  still  more 
force  in  his  boasting  to  Falstaff  of  his  youthful  riots.  Posing 
outwardly  as  the  immaculate  country  gentleman,  he  had  "gone  the 
pace"  in  youth,  and,  in  his  heart,  cherished  it  as  his  proudest 
memory,  though  even  then  —  according  to  Falstaff 's  standards  — 
he  had  only  succeeded  in  making  himself  supremely  absurd. 

1  Mrs.  Slopes'  Shakespeare'*  Warwickshire  Contemporantt. 


THE   SECOND   PART 


HENRY  THE  FOURTH 


DRAMATIS   PEKSON.E 

RUMOUR The  Presenter 

KINO  HENKT  THE  FOURTH 

HKXKV,  PRINCE  OK  WALKS 

Afterwards  King  Henry  V 


THOMAS,  DUKE  OK  CLARENCE 


II is  sons 


PRINCE  JOHN  OK  LANCASTER 

PRINCE  HUMPHREY  OK  GLOUCESTER 

EARL  OK  WARWICK 

EARL  OK  WESTMORELAND 

EARL  OF  SURREY 

COWER 

HARCOURT 

BLUNT 

Lord  Chief-Just  ire  of  the  King's  Bench 

A  Servant  of  the  Chief- Just  ice 

EARL  OF  NORTHUMBERLAND 

SCROOP Archbishop  of  York 

LORD  MOWBRAY 

LORD  HASTINGS 

LORD  BARDOLPH 

SIR  JOHN  COLEVILE 

TRAVERS  and  MORTON      ....  Retainers  of  Northumberland 

SIR  JOHN  FALSTAFF 

His  Page 

BARDOLPH 

PISTOL 

POINS 

PETO 

SHALU)W1  .  Country  Justiees 

SILENCE  J 

DAVY Servant  to  Shallow 

MOULDY,  SHADOW,  WART,  FEEBLE  AND  BULLCALF  .     .     Recruits 

FANG  and  SNARE Sheriff's  officers 

LADY  NORTHUMBERLAND 

LADY  PERCY 

MISTRESS  QUICKLY  ....        Hostess  of  a  tavern  in  Easteheap 

DOLL  TEAR-SHEET 

Lords  and  Attendants;  Porter.  Drawers.  Beadles.  (1  rooms,  etc. 
A  Dancer,  speaker  of  the  Epilogue 

SCENE  —  ENGLAND 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH 

. 

INDUCTION 

Warkworth.     Before  the  castle 
Enter  RUMOTJB,  painted  full  of  tongues 

Rum.     Open  your  ears ;  for  which  of  you  will  stop 
The  vent  of  hearing  when  loud  Rumour  speaks? 
I,  from  the  orient  to  the  drooping  west, 
Making  the  wind  my  post-horse,  still  unfold 
The  acts  commenced  on  this  ball  of  earth  : 
Upon  my  tongues  continual  slanders  ride, 
The  which  in  every  language  I  pronounce, 
Stuffing  the  ears  of  men  with  false  reports. 
I  speak  of  peace,  while  covert  enmity 
Under  the  smile  of  safety  wounds  the  world :  ic 

And  who  but  Rumour,  who  but  only  I, 
Make  fearful  musters  and  prepared  defence, 
Whiles  the  big  year,  swoln  with  some  other  grief, 
Is  thought  with  child  by  the  stern  tyrant  war, 
And  no  such  matter  ?     Rumour  is  a  pipe 
Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures, 
And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop 
That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted  heads, 
The  still-discordant  wavering  multitude, 
Can  play  upon  it.     But  what  need  I  thus  20 

My  well-known  body  to  anatomize 

1 


2  KING   HENRY  THE   FOIRTH     [ACT  ONE 

Among  my  household  ?     Why  is  Rumour  here  ? 

I  run  before  King  Harry's  victory ; 

Who  in  a  bloody  field  by  Shrewsbury 

Hath  beaten  down  young  Hotspur  and  his  troops, 

Quenching  the  flame  of  bold  rebellion 

Even  with  the  rebels'  blood.     But  what  mean  I 

To  speak  so  true  at  first  ?  my  office  is 

To  noise  about  that  Harry  Monmouth  fell 

30  Under  the  wrath  of  noble  Hotspur's  sword, 
And  that  the  king  before  the  Douglas'  rage 
Stoop'd  his  anointed  head  as  low  as  death. 
This  have  I  rumour'd  through  the  peasant  towns 
Between  that  royal  field  of  Shrewsbury 
And  this  worm-eaten  hold  of  ragged  stone, 
Where  Hotspur's  father,  old  Northumberland, 
Lies  crafty-sick  :  the  posts  come  tiring  on, 
And  not  a  man  of  them  brings  other  news 
Than  they  have  learn'd  of  me :    from  Rumour's 
tongues 

40  They   bring   smooth   comforts   false,   worse    than 
true  wrongs.  [Exit. 


ACT  I 

SCENE  I  —  The  same 
Enter  LORD  BARDOLPH 
L.  Bard.     Who  keeps  the  gate  here,  ho  ? 
The  Porter  opens  the  gate 

Wrhere  is  the  earl  ? 
Port.     \Vhat  shall  I  say  you  are  ? 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  3 

L.  Bard.  Tell  thou  the  earl 

That  the  Lord  Bardolph  doth  attend  him  here. 

Port.     His   lordship   is   walk'd   forth   into   the 

orchard : 

Please  it  your  honour,  knock  but  at  the  gate, 
And  he  himself  will  answer. 

Enter  NORTHUMBERLAND 

L.  Bard.  Here  comes  the  earl. 

[Exit  Porter. 

North.     What    news,    Lord    Bardolph?    every 

minute  now 

Should  be  the  father  of  some  stratagem : 
The  times  are  wild ;  contention,  like  a  horse 
Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose  10 

And  bears  down  all  before  him. 

L.  Bard.  Noble  earl, 

I  bring  you  certain  news  from  Shrewsbury. 

North.     Good,  an  God  will ! 

L.  Bard.  As  good  as  heart  can  wish : 

The  king  is  almost  wounded  to  the  death ; 
And,  in  the  fortune  of  my  lord  your  son, 
Prince  Harry  slain  outright ;   and  both  the  Blunts 
Kill'd  by   the  hand  of  Douglas;    young  Prince 

John 

And  Westmoreland  and  Stafford  fled  the  field ; 
And    Harry    Monmouth's    brawn,    the    hulk    Sir 

John, 

Is  prisoner  to  your  son  :  O,  such  a  day,  20 

So  fought,  so  follow'd  and  so  fairly  won, 
Came  not  till  now  to  dignify  the  times, 
Since  Caesar's  fortunes ! 


4  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Ac-rONE 

North.  How  is  this  derived  ? 

Saw  you  the  field  ?  came  you  from  Shrewsbury  ? 
L.  Bard.     I    spake    with    one,    my    lord,    that 

came  from  thence, 

A  gentleman  well  bred  and  of  good  name, 
That  freely  render'd  me  these  news  for  true. 

North.     Here  comes  my  servant  Travers,  whom 

I  sent 
On  Tuesday  last  to  listen  after  news. 

Enter  TRAVERS 

30     L.  Bard.     My  lord,  I  over-rode  him  on  the  way ; 
And  he  is  furnish'd  with  no  certainties 
More  than  lie  haply  may  retail  from  me. 

North.     Now,  Travers,  what  good  tidings  comes 

with  you  ? 
Tra.     My  lord,  Sir  John  Umfrevile  turn'd  me 

back 

With  joyful  tidings ;   and,  being  better  horsed, 
Out-rode  me.     After  him  came  spurring  hard 
A  gentleman,  almost  forspent  with  speed, 
That  stopp'd  by  me  to  breathe  his  bloodied  horse. 
He  ask'd  the  way  to  Chester;  and  of  him 

40  I  did  demand  what  news  from  Shrewsbury : 
He  told  me  that  rebellion  had  bad  luck 
And  that  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold. 
With  that,  he  gave  his  able  horse  the  head, 
And  bending  forward  struck  his  armed  heels 
Against  the  panting  sides  of  his  poor  jade 
Up  to  the  rowel-head,  and  starting  so 
He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way, 
Staying  no  longer  question. 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  5 

North.  Ha  !     Again  : 

Said  he  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold  ? 
Of  Hotspur  Coldspur  ?  that  rebellion  so 

Had  met  ill  luck  ? 

L.  Bard.  My  lord,  I  '11  tell  you  what ; 

If  my  young  lord  your  son  have  not  the  day, 
Upon  mine  honour,  for  a  silken  point 
I  '11  give  my  barony  :   never  talk  of  it. 

North.     Why  should  that  gentleman  that  rode 

by  Travers 
Give  then  such  instances  of  loss  ? 

L.  Bard.  Who,  he  ? 

He  was  some  hilding  fellow  that  had  stolen 
The  horse  he  rode  on,  and,  upon  my  life, 
Spoke  at  a  venture.     Look,  here  comes  more  news. 

Enter  MORTON 

North.     Yea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title-leaf,  eo 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume : 
So  looks  the  strand  whereon  the  imperious  flood 
Hath  left  a  witness'd  usurpation. 
Say,  Morton,  didst  thou  come  from  Shrewsbury  ? 

Mor.     I  ran  from  Shrewsbury,  my  noble  lord ; 
Where  hateful  death  put  on  his  ugliest  mask 
To  fright  our  party. 

North.  How  doth  my  son  and  brother  ? 

Thou  tremblest ;  and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  such  a  man,  so  faint,  so  spiritless,  70 

So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  woe-begone, 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 
And  would  have  told  him  half  his  Troy  was  burnt ; 


0  KING   HENRY  THE  I'OfRTH     [ACT  ONE 

But  Priam  found  the  fire  ere  he  his  tongue, 
And  I  my  Percy's  death  ere  thou  report'st  it. 
This  thou  wouldst  say,  "Your  son  did  thus  and 

thus ; 

Your  brother  thus  :  so  fought  the  noble  Douglas"  : 
Stopping  my  greedy  ear  with  their  lx>ld  deeds  : 
But  in  the  end,  to  stop  my  ear  indeed, 
so  Thou  hast  a  sigh  to  blow  away  this  praise, 
Ending  with  "Brother,  son,  and  all  are  dead." 
Mor.     Douglas    is    living,    and    your    brother, 

yet; 
But,  for  my  lord  your  son,  — 

North.  Why,  he  is  dead. 

See  what  a  ready  tongue  suspicion  hath  ! 
He  that  but  fears  the  thing  he  would  not  know 
Hath  by  instinct  knowledge  from  others'  eyes 
That    what    he    fear'd    is    chanced.     Yet    speak, 

Morton ; 

Tell  thou  an  earl  his  divination  lies, 
And  I  will  take  it  as  a  sweet  disgrace 
90  And  make  thee  rich  for  doing  me  such  wrong. 

Mor.     You  are  too  great  to  be  by  me  gainsaid : 
Your  spirit  is  too  true,  your  fears  too  certain. 
North.     Yet,  for  all  this,  say  not  that  Percy's 
dead. 

1  see  a  strange  confession  in  thine  eye : 

Thou  shakest  thy  head  and  hold'st  it  fear  or  sin 
To  speak  a  truth.     If  he  be  slain,  say  so; 
The  tongue  offends  not  that  reports  his  death : 
And  he  doth  sin  that  doth  belie  the  dead, 
Not  he  which  says  the  dead  is  not  alive. 
100  Yet  the  first  bringer  of  unwelcome  news 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  7 

Hath  but  a  losing  office,  and  his  tongue 
Sounds  ever  after  as  a  sullen  bell, 
Remember'd  tolling  a  departing  friend. 

L.  Bard.     I  cannot  think,  my  lord,  your  son  is 

dead. 

Mor.     I  am  sorry  I  should  force  you  to  believe 
That  which  I  would  to  God  I  had  not  seen ; 
But  these  mine  eyes  saw  him  in  bloody  state, 
Rendering    faint    quittance,    wearied    and    out- 
breathed, 
To  Harry  Monmouth;    whose  swift  wrath  beat 

down 

The  never-daunted  Percy  to  the  earth,  no 

From  whence  with  life  he  never  more  sprung  up. 
In  few,  his  death,  whose  spirit  lent  a  fire 
Even  to  the  dullest  peasant  in  his  camp, 
Being  bruited  once,  took  fire  and  heat  away 
From  the  best-temper'd  courage  in  his  troops ; 
For  from  his  metal  was  his  party  steel'd ; 
Which  once  in  him  abated,  all  the  rest 
Turn'd  on  themselves,  like  dull  and  heavy  lead  : 
And  as  the  thing  that's  heavy  in  itself, 
Upon  enforcement  flies  with  greatest  speed,  120 

So  did  our  men,  heavy  in  Hotspur's  loss, 
Lend    to    this   weight   such   lightness   with   their 

fear 

That  arrows  fled  not  swifter  toward  their  aim 
Than  did  our  soldiers,  aiming  at  their  safety, 
Fly  from  the  field.     Then  was  that  noble  Worces- 
ter 

Too  soon  ta'en  prisoner ;  and  that  furious  Scot, 
The  bloody  Douglas,  whose  well-labouring  sword 


8  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ ACT  ONE 

Had  three  times  slain  the  appearance  of  the  king, 
'(Ian  vail  his  stomach  and  did  grace  the  shame 
no  Of  those  that  turn'd  their  backs,  and  in  his  flight, 
Stumbling  in  fear,  was  took.     The  sum  of  all 
Is  that  the  king  hath  won,  and  hath  sent  out 
A  speedy  power  to  encounter  you,  my  lord 
Under  the  conduct  of  young  I^ancaster 
And  Westmoreland.     This  is  the  news  at  full. 
North.     For  this  I  shall  have  time  enough  to 

mourn. 

In  poison  there  is  physic ;   and  these  news, 
Having  been  well,  that  would  have  made  me  sick, 
Being  sick,  have  in  some  measure  made  me  well : 
HO  And  as  the  wretch,  whose  fever- weaken 'd  joints, 
Like  strengthless  hinges,  buckle  under  life, 
Impatient  of  his  fit,  breaks  like  a  fire 
Out  of  his  keeper's  arms,  even  so  my  limbs, 
Weaken'd  with    grief,    being    now    enraged    with 

grief, 
Are    thrice    themselves.     Hence,    therefore,    thou 

nice  crutch ! 

A  scaly  gauntlet  now  with  joints  of  steel 
Must  glove  this  hand :    and  hence,   thou  sickly 

quoif ! 

Thou  art  a  guard  too  wanton  for  the  head 
Which  princes,  flesh'd  with  conquest,  aim  to  hit. 
150  Now  bind  my  brows  with  iron ;  and  approach 
The  ragged'st  hour  that  time  and  spite  dare  bring 
To  frown  upon  the  enraged  Northumberland  ! 
Let    heaven    kiss    earth !    now    let    not    Nature's 

hand 
Keep  the  wild  flood  confined  !  let  order  die ! 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH  0 

And  let  this  world  no  longer  be  a  stage 

To  feed  contention  in  a  lingering  act ; 

But  let  one  spirit  of  the  first-born  Cain 

Reign  in  all  bosoms,  that,  each  heart  being  set 

On  bloody  courses,  the  rude  scene  may  end, 

And  darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  dead !  iso 

Tra.     This   strained  passion  doth  you  wrong, 
my  lord. 

L.  Bard.     Sweet  earl,  divorce  not  wisdom  from 
your  honour. 

Mor.     The  lives  of  all  your  loving  complices 
Lean  on  your  health ;  the  which,  if  you  give  o'er 
To  stormy  passion,  must  perforce  decay. 
You  cast  the  event  of  war,  my  noble  lord, 
And  summ'd  the  account  of  chance,  before  you  said 
"Let  us  make  head."     It  was  your  presurmise, 
That,  in  the  dole  of  blows,  your  son  might  drop : 
You  knew  he  walk'd  o'er  perils,  on  an  edge,  170 

More  likely  to  fall  in  than  to  get  o'er ; 
You  were  advised  his  flesh  was  capable 
Of  wounds  and  scars  and  that  his  forward  spirit 
Would  lift  him  where  most  trade  of  danger  ranged : 
Yet  did  you  say  "Go  forth";   and  none  of  this, 
Though  strongly  apprehended,  could  restrain 
The  stiff-borne  action :  what  hath  then  befallen, 
Or  what  hath  this  bold  enterprise  brought  forth, 
More  than  that  being  which  was  like  to  be  ? 

L.  Bard.     We  all  that  are  engaged  to  this  loss     iso 
Knew  that  we  ventured  on  such  dangerous  seas 
That  if  we  wrought  out  life  'twas  ten  to  one ; 
And  yet  we  ventured,  for  the  gain  proposed 
Choked  the  respect  of  likely  peril  fear'd ; 


10  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Acr  ONE 

And  since  we  are  o'erset,  venture  again. 
Come,  we  will  all  put  forth,  body  and  goods. 
Mor.     'T  is    more    than    time :     and,  my   most 

noble  lord, 

I  hear  for  certain,  and  do  speak  the  truth, 
The  gentle  Archbishop  of  York  is  up 
190  With  well-appointed  powers  :   he  is  a  man 
Who  with  a  double  surety  binds  his  followers. 
My  lord  your  son  had  only  but  the  corpse, 
But  shadows  and  the  shows  of  men,  to  fight ; 
For  that  same  word,  rebellion,  did  divide 
The  action  of  their  bodies  from  their  souls ; 
And  they  did  fight  with  queasiness,  constraint, 
As  men  drink  potions,  that  their  weapons  only 
Seem'd  on  our  side;    but,  for  their  spirits  and 

souls, 

This  word,  rebellion,  it  had  froze  them  up, 
200  As  fish  are  in  a  pond.     But  now  the  bishop 
Turns  insurrection  to  religion  : 
Supposed  sincere  and  holy  in  his  thoughts, 
He  's  followed  both  with  body  and  with  mind ; 
And  doth  enlarge  his  rising  with  the  blood 
Of    fair    King    Richard,    scraped    from    Pomfret 

stones ; 

Derives  from  heaven  his  quarrel  and  his  cause; 
Tells  them  he  doth  bestride  a  bleeding  land, 
Gasping  for  life  under  great  Bolingbroke ; 
And  more  and  less  do  flock  to  follow  him. 
210     North.     I   knew  of  this  before;    but,  to  speak 

truth, 

This  present  grief  had  wiped  it  from  my  mind. 
Go  in  with  me ;  and  counsel  every  man 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         11 

The  aptest  way  for  safety  and  revenge : 

Get  posts  and  letters,  and  make  friends  with  speed : 

Never  so  few,  and  never  yet  more  need.     [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  London.     A  street 

Enter  FALSTAFF,  with  his  Page  bearing  his 
sword  and  buckler 

Fal.  Sirrah,  you  giant,  what  says  the  doctor 
to  my  water  ? 

Page.  He  said,  sir,  the  water  itself  was  a  good 
healthy  water ;  but,  for  the  party  that  owed  it,  he 
might  have  more  diseases  than  he  knew  for. 

Fal.  Men  of  all  sorts  take  a  pride  to  gird  at 
me :  the  brain  of  this  foolish-compounded  clay, 
man,  is  not  able  to  invent  any  thing  that  tends  to 
laughter,  more  than  I  invent  or  is  invented  on  10 
me :  I  am  not  only  witty  in  myself,  but  the  cause 
that  wit  is  in  other  men.  I  do  here  walk  before 
thee  like  a  sow  that  hath  overwhelmed  all  her 
litter  but  one.  If  the  prince  put  thee  into  my 
service  for  any  other  reason  than  to  set  me  off, 
why  then  I  have  no  judgement.  Thou  whoreson 
mandrake,  thou  art  fitter  to  be  worn  in  my  cap 
than  to  wait  at  my  heels.  I  was  never  manned 
with  an  agate  till  now :  but  I  will  inset  you 
neither  in  gold  nor  silver,  but  in  vile  apparel,  20 
and  send  you  back  again  to  your  master,  for  a 
jewel,  —  the  Juvenal,  the  prince  your  master, 
whose  chin  is  not  yet  fledged.  I  will  sooner 
have  a  beard  grow  in  the  palm  of  my  hand  than 
he  shall  get  one  on  his  cheek;  and  yet  he  will 


le  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  ONE 

not  stick  to  say  his  face  is  a  face-royal :  God 
may  finish  it  when  he  will,  'tis  not  a  hair  amiss 
yet :  he  may  keep  it  still  at  a  face-royal,  for  a 
barber  shall  never  earn  sixpence  out  of  it ;  and 

so  yet  he  '11  be  crowing  as  if  he  had  writ  man  ever 
since  his  father  was  a  bachelor.  He  may  keep 
his  own  grace,  but  he 's  almost  out  of  mine,  I 
can  assure  him.  What  said  Master  Dombledon 
about  the  satin  for  my  short  cloak  and  my  slops? 
Page.  He  said,  sir,  you  should  procure  him 
better  assurance  than  Bardolph :  he  would  not 
take  his  band  and  yours;  he  liked  not  the  se- 
curity. • 

Fal.     Let   him   lie   damned,    like   the   glutton ! 

40  pray  God  his  tongue  be  hotter !  A  whoreson 
Achitophel !  a  rascally  yea-forsooth  knave !  to 
bear  a  gentleman  in  hand,  and  then  stand  upon 
security !  The  whoreson  smooth-pates  do  now 
wear  nothing  but  high  shoes,  and  bunches  of 
keys  at  their  girdles ;  and  if  a  man  is  through 
with  them  in  honest  taking  up,  then  they  must 
stand  upon  security.  I  had  as  lief  they  would 
put  ratsbane  in  my  mouth  as  offer  to  stop  it  with 
security.  I  looked  a'  should  have  sent  me  two 

so  and  twenty  yards  of  satin,  as  I  am  a  true  knight, 
and  he  sends  me  security.  Well,  he  may  sleep 
in  security ;  for  he  hath  the  horn  of  abundance, 
and  the  lightness  of  his  wife  shines  through  it : 
and  yet  cannot  he  see,  though  he  have  his  own 
lanthorn  to  light  him.  Where  's  Bardolph  ? 

Page.     He  's  gone  into  Smithfield  to  buy  your 
worship  a  horse. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        13 

Fal.     I   bought  him   in  Paul's,  and  he  '11   buy 
me  a  horse  in  Smithfield  :    an  I  could  get  me  but 
a  wife  in  the  stews,  I  were  manned,  horsed,  and  GO 
wived. 

Enter  ihe  Lord  Chief-Justice  and  Servant 

Page.  Sir,  here  comes  the  nobleman  that 
committed  the  prince  for  striking  him  about 
Bardolph. 

Fal.     Wait  close ;  I  will  not  see  him. 

Ch.  Just.     What 's  he  that  goes  there  ? 

Serv.     Falstaff,  an  't  please  your  lordship. 

Ch.  Just.  He  that  was  in  question  for  the 
robbery  ? 

Serv.     He,   my  lord:    but  he  hath  since  donero 
good  service  at  Shrewsbury;    and,  as  I  hear,  is 
now  going  with  some  charge  to  the  Lord  John  of 
Lancaster. 

Ch.  Just.  What,  to  York  ?  Call  him  back 
again. 

Serv.     Sir  John  Falstaff ! 

Fal.     Boy,  tell  him  I  am  deaf. 

Page.  You  must  speak  louder;  my  master  is 
deaf. 

Ch.  Just.     I  am  sure  he  is,  to  the  hearing  of  so 
any  thing  good.     Go,  pluck  him  by  the  elbow;   I 
must  speak  with  him. 

Serv.     Sir  John ! 

Fal.  What !  a  young  knave,  and  begging ! 
Is  there  not  wars?  is  there  not  employment? 
doth  not  the  king  lack  subjects  ?  do  not  the  rebels 
need  soldiers?  Though  it  be  a  shame  to  be  on 


14  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Acr  ONE 

any  side  but  one,  it  is  worse  shame  to  beg  than 
to  be  on  the  worst  side,  were  it  worse  than  the 
90  name  of  rebellion  can  tell  how  to  make  it. 

Serv.     You  mistake  me,  sir. 

Fat.  Why,  sir,  did  I  say  you  were  an  honest 
man?  setting  my  knighthood  and  my  soldiership 
aside,  I  had  lied  in  my  throat,  if  I  had  said  so. 

Serv.  I  pray  you,  sir,  then  set  your  knight- 
hood and  your  soldiership  aside;  and  give  me 
leave  to  tell  you,  you  lie  in  your  throat,  if  you 
say  I  am  any  other  than  an  honest  man. 

Fed.     I  give  thee  leave  to  tell  me  so !     I  lay 

100  aside  that  which  grows  to  me !     If  thou  gettest 

any  leave  of  me,  hang  me;    if  thou  takest  leave, 

thou  wert  better  be  hanged.     You  hunt  counter : 

hence !  avaunt ! 

Serv.     Sir,  my  lord  would  speak  with  you. 

Ch.  Just.     Sir  John  Falstaff,  a  word  with  you. 

Fal.  My  good  lord !  God  give  your  lordship 
good  time  of  day.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  lord- 
ship abroad  :  I  heard  say  your  lordship  was  sick  : 
I  hope  your  lordship  goes  abroad  by  advice. 
noY'our  lordship,  though  not  clean  past  your  youth, 
hath  yet  some  smack  of  age  in  you,  some  relish 
of  the  saltness  of  time;  and  I  most  humbly  be- 
seech your  lordship  to  have  a  reverent  care  of 
your  health. 

Ch.  Just.  Sir  John,  I  sent  for  you  before  your 
expedition  to  Shrewsbury. 

Fal.  An 't  please  your  lordship,  I  hear  his 
majesty  is  returned  with  some  discomfort  from 
Wales. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH         15 

Ch.    Just.     I    talk    not    of    his    majesty :     you  120 
would  not  come  when  I  sent  for  you. 

Fal.  And  I  hear,  moreover,  his  highness  is 
fallen  into  this  same  whoreson  apoplexy. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  God  mend  him !  I  pray  you, 
let  me  speak  with  you. 

Fal.  This  apoplexy  is,  as  I  take  it,  a  kind  of 
lethargy,  an  't  please  your  lordship ;  a  kind  of 
sleeping  in  the  blood,  a  whoreson  tingling. 

Ch.  Just.     What  tell  you  me  of  it  ?  be  it  as  it  is.  130 

Fal.  It  hath  it  original  from  much  grief, 
from  study  and  perturbation  of  the  brain :  I  have 
read  the  cause  of  his  effects  in  Galen :  it  is  a 
kind  of  deafness. 

Ch.  Just.  I  think  you  are  fallen  into  the 
disease ;  for  you  hear  not  what  I  say  to  you. 

Fal.  Very  well,  my  lord,  very  well :  rather, 
an  't  please  you,  it  is  the  disease  of  not  listening, 
the  malady  of  not  marking,  that  I  am  troubled 
withal.  140 

Ch.  Just.  To  punish  you  by  the  heels  would 
amend  the  attention  of  your  ears ;  and  I  care  not 
if  I  do  become  your  physician. 

Fal.  I  am  as  poor  as  Job,  my  lord,  but  not 
so  patient:  your  lordship  may  minister  the  potion 
of  imprisonment  to  me  in  respect  of  poverty ;  but 
how  I  should  be  your  patient  to  follow  your  pre- 
scriptions, the  wise  may  make  some  dram  of  a 
scruple,  or  indeed  a  scruple  itself. 

Ch.  Just.     I    sent    for   you,    when    there    were  iso 
matters  against  you  for  your  life,  to  come  speak 
with  me. 


16  KING  HENRY  THE  FOVRTH     [ACT  ONB 

Fal.  As  I  was  then  advised  by  my  learned 
counsel  in  the  laws  of  this  land-service,  I  did  not 
come. 

Ch.  Jiixt.  Well,  the  truth  is,  Sir  John,  you 
live  in  great  infamy. 

Fal.  He  that  buckles  him  in  my  belt  cannot 
live  in  less. 

100     Ch.  Just.     Your   means  are   very   slender,   and 
your  waste  is  great. 

Fal.  I  would  it  were  otherwise;  I  would  my 
means  were  greater,  and  my  waist  slenderer. 

Ch.  Just.     You  have  misled  the  youthful  prince. 

Fal.  The  young  prince  hath  misled  me:  I  am 
the  fellow  with  the  great  belly,  and  he  my  dog. 

Ch.  Just.     Well,    I    am    loath    to    gall    a    new- 
healed  wound  :    your  day's  service  at  Shrewsbury 
hath  a  little  gilded  over  your  night's  exploit  on 
i"o(iad's-hill :    you  may  thank  the  unquiet  time  for 
your  quiet  o'er-posting  that  action. 

Fal.     My  lord  ? 

Ch.  Just.  But  since  all  is  well,  keep  it  so: 
wake  not  a  sleeping  wolf. 

Fal.  To  wake  a  wolf  is  as  bad  as  to  smell  a 
fox. 

Ch.  Just.  What !  you  are  as  a  candle,  the 
better  part  burnt  out. 

Fal.     A    wassail    candle,    my    lord,    all    tallow: 
iso  if  I  did  say  of  wax,  my  growth  would  approve 
the  truth. 

Ch.  Just.  There  is  not  a  white  hair  on  your 
face  but  should  have  his  effect  of  gravity. 

Fal.     His  effect  of  gravy,  gravy,  gravy. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY   THE  FOURTH         17 

Ch.  Just.  You  follow  the  young  prince  up  and 
down,  like  his  ill  angel. 

Fal.  Not  so, 'my  lord;  your  ill  angel  is  light; 
but  I  hope  he  that  looks  upon  me  will  take  me 
without  weighing :  and  yet,  in  some  respects,  I 
grant,  I  cannot  go :  I  cannot  tell.  Virtue  is  of  i&o 
so  little  regard  in  these  costermonger  times  that 
true  valour  is  turned  bear-herd  :  pregnancy  is  made 
a  tapster,  and  hath  his  quick  wit  wasted  in  giving 
reckonings  :  all  the  other  gifts  appertinent  to  man, 
as  the  malice  of  this  age  shapes  them,  are  not 
worth  a  gooseberry.  You  that  are  old  consider 
not  the  capacities  of  us  that  are  young;  you  do 
measure  the  heat  of  our  livers  with  the  bitterness 
of  your  galls :  and  we  that  are  in  the  vaward 
of  our  youth,  I  must  confess,  are  wags  too.  200 

Ch.  Just.  Do  you  set  down  your  name  in  the 
scroll  of  youth,  that  are  written  down  old  with 
all  the  characters  of  age?  Have  you  not  a 
moist  eye  ?  a  dry  hand  ?  a  yellow  cheek  ?  a  white 
beard?  a  decreasing  leg?  an  increasing  belly?  is 
not  your  voice  broken?  your  wind  short?  your 
chin  double?  your  wit  single?  and  every  part 
about  you  blasted  with  antiquity?  and  will  you 
yet  call  yourself  young  ?  Fie,  fie,  fie,  Sir  John  ! 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  was  born  about  three  of  the  210 
clock  in  the  afternoon,  with  a  white  head  and 
something  a  round  belly.  For  my  voice,  I  have 
lost  it  with  halloing  and  singing  of  anthems.  To 
approve  my  youth  further,  I  will  not :  the  truth 
is,  I  am  only  old  in  judgement  and  understanding ; 
and  he  that  will  caper  with  me  for  a  thousand 


18  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ ACT  ONE 

marks,  let  him  lend  me  the  money,  and  have  at 
him  !  F6r  the  box  of  the  ear  that  the  prince  gave 
you,  he  gave  it  like  a  rude  prince,  and  you  took 

220  it  like  a  sensible  lord.  I  have  checked  him  for  it, 
and  the  young  lion  repents ;  marry,  not  in  ashea 
and  sackcloth,  but  in  new  silk  and  old  sack. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  God  send  the  prince  a  better 
companion ! 

Fal.  God  send  the  companion  a  better  prince ! 
I  cannot  rid  my  hands  of  him. 

Ch.  Just.  Well,  the  king  hath  severed  you 
and  Prince  Harry :  I  hear  you  are  going  with 
Lord  John  of  I^ancaster  against  the  Archbishop 

•2-M  and  the  Earl  of  Northumberland. 

Fal.  Yea ;  I  thank  your  pretty  sweet  wit  for 
it.  But  look  you  pray,  all  you  that  kiss  my  lady 
Peace  at  home,  that  our  armies  join  not  in  a  hot 
day;  for,  by  the  Lord,  I  take  but  two  shirts  out 
with  me,  and  I  mean  not  to  sweat  extraordinarily : 
if  it  be  a  hot  day,  and  I  brandish  any  thing  but  a 
bottle,  I  would  I  might  never  spit  white  again. 
There  is  not  a  dangerous  action  can  peep  out  his 
head  but  I  am  thrust  upon  it :  well,  I  cannot 

240 last  ever:  but  it  was  alway  yet  the  trick  of  our 
English  nation,  if  they  have  a  good  thing,  to 
make  it  too  common.  If  ye  will  needs  say  I  am 
an  old  man,  you  should  give  me  rest.  I  would  to 
God  my  name  were  not  so  terrible  to  the  enemy 
as  it  is :  I  were  better  to  be  eaten  to  death  with 
a  rust  than  to  be  scoured  to  nothing  with  perpet- 
ual motion. 

Ch.  Just.     Well,    be    honest,    be    honest;     and 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        19 

God  bless  your  expedition  ! 

Fal.     Will  your  lordship  lend  me  a  thousand  250 
pound  to  furnish  me  forth  ? 

Ch.  Just.  Not  a  penny,  not  a  penny ;  you  are 
too  impatient  to  bear  crosses.  Fare  you  well : 
commend  me  to  my  cousin  Westmoreland. 

[Exeunt  Chief -Justice  and  Servant. 

Fal.  If  I  do,  fillip  me  with  a  three-man  beetle. 
A  man  can  no  more  separate  age  and  covet- 
ousness  than  a'  can  part  young  limbs  and  lechery : 
but  the  gout  galls  the  one,  and  the  pox  pinches 
the  other;  and  so  both  the  degrees  prevent  my 
curses.  Boy !  260 

Page.     Sir  ? 

Fal.     What  money  is  in  my  purse  ? 

Page.     Seven  groats  and  two  pence. 

Fal.  I  can  get  no  remedy  against  this  con- 
sumption of  the  purse :  borrowing  only  lingers 
and  lingers  it  out,  but  the  disease  is  incurable. 
Go  bear  this  letter  to  my  Lord  of  Lancaster ;  this 
to  the  prince ;  this  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland ; 
and  this  to  old  Mistress  Ursula,  whom  I  have 
weekly  sworn  to  marry  since  I  perceived  the  first  270 
white  hair  on  my  chin.  About  it :  you  know 
where  to  find  me.  [Exit  Page.]  A  pox  of  this 
gout !  or,  a  gout  of  this  pox !  for  the  one  or  the 
other  plays  the  rogue  with  my  great  toe.  'T  is  no 
matter  if  I  do  halt ;  I  have  the  wars  for  my  colour, 
and  my  pension  shall  seem  the  more  reasonable. 
A  good  wit  will  make  use  of  any  thing :  I  will  turn 
diseases  to  commodity.  [Exit. 


20  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [A<T  ONE 

SCENE  III  —  York.     The  ARCHBISHOP'S  palace 

Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP,  the  LORDS  HASTINGS, 
MOWBRAY,  and  BARDOLPH 

Arch.     Thus   have   you   heard   our   cause   and 

known  our  means ; 

And,  my  most  noble  friends,  I  pray  you  all, 
Speak  plainly  your  opinions  of  our  hopes  : 
And  first,  lord  marshal,  what  say  you  to  it? 

Mowb.     I  well  allow  the  occasion  of  our  arms; 
But  gladly  would  tie  better  satisfied 
How  in  our  means  we  should  advance  ourselves 
To  look  with  forehead  bold  and  big  enough 
Upon  the  power  and  puissance  of  the  king. 
10     Hast.     Our  present  musters  grow  upon  the  file 
To  five  and  twenty  thousand  men  of  choice ; 
And  our  supplies  live  largely  in  the  hope 
Of  great  Northumberland,  whose  bosom  burns 
With  an  incensed  fire  of  injuries. 

L.  Bard.     The   question    then,    Lord   Hastings, 

standeth  thus; 

Whether  our  present  five  and  twenty  thousand 
May  hold  up  head  without  Northumberland  ? 

Hast.     WTith  him,  we  may. 

L.  Bard.     Yea,  marry,  there 's  the  point : 
But  if  without  him  we  be  thought  too  feeble, 
20  My  judgement  is,  we  should  not  step  too  far 
Till  we  had  his  assistance  by  the  hand ; 
For  in  a  theme  so  bloody-faced  as  this 
Conjecture,  expectation,  and  surmise 
Of  aids  incertain  should  not  be  admitted. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     21 

Arch.     'T   is   very   true,    Lord   Bardolph;     for 

indeed 
It  was  young  Hotspur's  case  at  Shrewsbury. 

L.  Bard.     It  was,  my  lord;    who  lined  himself 

with  hope, 

Eating  the  air  on  promise  of  supply, 
Flattering  himself  in  project  of  a  power 
Much  smaller  than  the  smallest  of  his  thoughts :      30 
And  so,  with  great  imagination 
Proper  to  madmen,  led  his  powers  to  death 
And  winking  leap'd  into  destruction. 

Hast.     But,  by  your  leave,  it  never  yet  did  hurt 
To  lay  down  likelihoods  and  forms  of  hope. 

L.  Bard.     Yes,  if  this  present  quality  of  war, 
Indeed  the  instant  action :  a  cause  on  foot 
Lives  so  in  hope  as  in  an  early  spring 
We  see  the  appearing  buds ;   which  to  prove  fruit, 
Hope  gives  not  so  much  warrant  as  despair  40 

That  frosts  will  bite  them.     When   we  mean  to 

build, 

We  first  survey  the  plot,  then  draw  the  model ; 
And  when  we  see  the  figure  of  the  house, 
Then  must  we  rate  the  cost  of  the  erection ; 
Which  if  we  find  outweighs  ability, 
What  do  we  then  but  draw  anew  the  model 
In  fewer  offices,  or  at  last  desist 
To  build  at  all  ?     Much  more,  in  this  great  work, 
Which  is  almost  to  pluck  a  kingdom  down 
And  set  another  up,  should  we  survey  50 

The  plot  of  situation  and  the  model, 
Consent  upon  a  sure  foundation, 
Question  surveyors,  know  our  own  estate, 


«2  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  ONE 

How  able  such  a  work  to  undergo, 
To  weigh  against  his  opposite ;  or  else 
We  fortify  in  paper  and  in  figures, 
Using  the  names  of  men  instead  of  men : 
Like  one  that  draws  the  model  of  a  house 
Beyond  his  power  to  build  it ;   who,  half  through, 
eo  Gives  o'er  and  leaves  his  part-created  cost 
A  naked  subject  to  the  weeping  clouds 
And  waste  for  churlish  winter's  tyranny. 

Hast.     Grant  that  our  hopes,  yet  likely  of  fair 

birth, 

Should  be  still-born,  and  that  we  now  possess'd 
The  utmost  man  of  expectation, 
I  think  we  are  a  body  strong  enough, 
Even  as  we  are,  to  equal  with  the  king. 

L.  Bard.     What,  is  the  king  but  five  and  twenty 

thousand  ? 
Hast.     To  us  no  more;   nay,  not  so  much,  Lord 

Bardolph. 

70  For  his  divisions,  as  the  times  do  brawl, 
Are  in  three  heads :  one  power  against  the  French, 
And  one  against  Glendower ;  perforce  a  third 
Must  take  up  us :  so  is  the  unfirm  king 
In  three  divided  ;  and  his  coffers  sound 
With  hollow  poverty  and  emptiness. 

Arch.     That  he  should  draw  his  several  strengths 

together 

And  come  against  us  in  full  puissance, 
Need  not  be  dreaded. 

Hast.  If  he  should  do  so, 

He    leaves    his    back    unarm'd,    the    French   and 
Welsh 


SCEXE  THREE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     23 

Baying  him  at  the  heels  :  never  fear  that.  so 

L.  Bard.     Who  is  it  like  should  lead  his  forces 

hither  ? 

Hast.     The  Duke  of  Lancaster  and  Westmore- 
land; 

Against  the  Welsh,  himself  and  Harry  Monmouth  : 
But  who  is  substituted  'gainst  the  French, 
I  have  no  certain  notice. 

Arch.  Let  us  on, 

And  publish  the  occasion  of  our  arms. 
The  commonwealth  is  sick  of  their  own  choice ; 
Their  over-greedy  love  hath  surfeited  : 
An  habitation  giddy  and  unsure 
Hath  he  that  buildeth  on  the  vulgar  heart.  90 

O  thou  fond  many,  with  what  loud  applause 
Didst  thou  beat  heaven  with  blessing  Bolingbroke, 
Before  he  was  what  thou  wouldst  have  him  be ! 
And  being  now  trimm'd  in  thine  own  desires, 
Thou,  beastly  feeder,  art  so  full  of  him, 
That  thou  provokest  thyself  to  cast  him  up. 
So,  so,  thou  common  dog,  didst  thou  disgorge 
Thy  glutton  bosom  of  the  royal  Richard ; 
And  now  thou  wouldst  eat  thy  dead  vomit  up, 
And  howl'st  to  find  it.     What  trust  is  in  these 

times?  100 

They  that,  when  Richard  lived,  would  have  him 

die, 

Are  now  become  enamour'd  on  his  grave : 
Thou,  that  threw'st  dust  upon  his  goodly  head 
When  through  proud  London  he  came  sighing  on 
After  the  admired  heels  of  Bolingbroke, 
Criest  now  "O  earth,  yield  us  that  king  again, 


24  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

And  take  thou  this  ! "     O  thoughts  of  men  accursed  ! 
Past   and   to   come   seems   best ;     things   present 

worst. 
Mowb.     Shall  we  go  draw  our  numbers  and  set 

on? 

no     Hast.     We  are  time's  subjects,  and  time  bids 
be  gone.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I  —  London.     A  street 

Enter  HOSTESS,  FANG  and  his  Boy  with  her,  and 
SNARE  following 

Host.  Master  Fang,  have  you  entered  the 
action  ? 

Fang.     It  is  entered. 

Host.  Where 's  your  yeoman  ?  Is 't  a  lusty 
yeoman  ?  will  a'  stand  to  't  ? 

Fang.     Sirrah,  where  's  Snare  ? 

Host.     O  Lord,  ay  !  good  Master  Snare. 

Snare.     Here,  here. 

Fang.     Snare,  we  must  arrest  Sir  John  Falstaff. 
10     Host.     Yea,  good  Master  Snare ;   I  have  entered 
him  and  all. 

Snare.  It  may  chance  cost  some  of  us  our  lives, 
for  he  will  stab. 

Host.  Alas  the  day !  take  heed  of  him ;  he 
stabbed  me  in  mine  own  house,  and  that  most 
beastly :  in  good  faith,  he  cares  not  what  mischief 
he  does,  if  his  weapon  be  out:  he  will  foin  like 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH         25 

any  devil ;    he  will  spare  neither  man,   woman, 
nor  child. 

Fang.     If  I  can  close  with  him,  I  care  not  for  20 
his  thrust. 

Host.     No,  nor  I  neither :  I  '11  be  at  your  elbow. 

Fang.     An  I  but  fist  him  once ;    an  a'  come 
but  within  my  vice,  — 

Host.  I  am  undone  by  his  going;  I  warrant 
you,  he  's  an  infinitive  thing  upon  my  score.  Good 
Master  Fang,  hold  him  sure :  good  Master  Snare, 
let  him  not  'scape.  A'  comes  continuantly  to  Pie- 
corner  —  saving  your  manhoods  —  to  buy  a  saddle ; 
and  he  is  indited  to  dinner  to  the  Lubber's-hfiad  so 
in  Lumbert  street,  to  Master  Smooth's  the  silk- 
man  :  I  pray  ye,  since  my  exion  is  entered  and 
my  case  so  openly  known  to  the  world,  let  him 
be  brought  in  to  his  answer.  A  hundred  mark  is 
a  long  one  for  a  poor  lone  woman  to  bear :  and 
I  have  borne,  and  borne,  and  borne,  and  have 
been  fubbed  off,  and  fubbed  off,  and  fubbed  off, 
from  this  day  to  that  day,  that  it  is  a  shame  to 
be  thought  on.  There  is  no  honesty  in  such 
dealing;  unless  a  woman  should  be  made  an  ass4o 
and  a  beast,  to  bear  every  knave's  wrong.  Yonder 
he  comes;  and  that  arrant  malmsey-nose  knave, 
Bardolph,  with  him.  Do  your  offices,  do  your 
offices :  Master  Fang  and  Master  Snare,  do  me, 
do  me,  do  me  your  offices. 

Enter  FALSTAFF,  Page,  and  BARDOLPH 

Fal.    How  now !   whose  mare  's  dead  ?   what 's 
the  matter? 


S6  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  T we 

Fang.  Sir  John,  I  arrest  you  at  the  suit  of 
Mistress  Quickly. 

so  Fal.  Away,  varlets !  Draw,  Bardolph :  cut 
me  off  the  villain's  head :  throw  the  quean  in  the 
channel. 

Host.  Throw  me  in  the  channel !  I  '11  throw 
thee  in  the  channel.  Wilt  thou?  wilt  thou?  thou 
bastardly  rogue !  Murder,  murder !  Ah,  thou 
honey-suckle  villain !  wilt  thou  kill  God's  officers 
and  the  king's?  Ah,  thou  honey-seed  rogue!  thou 
art  a  honey-seed,  a  man-queller,  and  a  woman- 
queller. 
eo  F.al.  Keep  them  off,  Bardolph. 

Fang.     A  rescue  !  a  rescue  ! 

Host.  Good  people,  bring  a  rescue  or  two. 
Thou  wo  't,  wo  't  thou  ?  thou  wo  't,  wo  't  ta  ?  do, 
do,  thou  rogue !  do,  thou  hemp-seed ! 

Fal.  Away,  you  scullion  !  you  rampallian  !  you 
fustilarian  !  I  '11  tickle  your  catastrophe. 

Enter  the  LORD  CHIEF-JUSTICE,  and  his  men 

Ch.  Just.  What  is  the  matter  ?  keep  the  peace 
here,  ho ! 

Host.     Good  my  lord,  be  good  to  me.     I  beseech 
70  you,  stand  to  me. 

'Ch.  Just.     How  now,  Sir  John  !  what  are  you 

brawling  here  ? 
Doth    this    become   your   place,    your    time   and 

business  ? 

You  should  have  been  well  on  your  way  to  York. 

Stand  from  him,  fellow :    wherefore  hang'st  upon 

him? 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         27 

Host.  O  my  most  worshipful  lord,  an  't  please 
your  grace,  I  am  a  poor  widow  of  Eastcheap, 
and  he  is  arrested  at  my  suit. 

Ch.  Just.     For  what  sum  ? 

Host.  It  is  more  than  for  some,  my  lord ;  it  is 
for  all,  all  I  have.  He  hath  eaten  me  out  of  so 
house  and  home ;  he  hath  put  all  my  substance 
into  that  fat  belly  of  his  :  but  I  will  have  some  of 
it  out  again,  or  I  will  ride  thee  o'  nights  like  the 
mare. 

Fal.  I  think  I  am  as  like  to  ride  the  mare,  if 
I  have  any  vantage  of  ground  to  get  up. 

Ch.  Just.  How  comes  this,  Sir  John?  Fie! 
what  man  of  good  temper  would  endure  this  tem- 
pest of  exclamation?  Are  you  not  ashamed  to 
enforce  a  poor  widow  to  so  rough  a  course  to  come 
by  her  own  ?  90 

Fal.     What  is  the  gross  sum  that  I  owe  thee  ? 

Host.  Marry,  if  thou  wert  an  honest  man, 
thyself  and  the  money  too.  Thou  didst  swear  to 
me  upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet,  sitting  in  my  Dol- 
phin-chamber, at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal 
fire,  upon  Wednesday  in  Wheeson  week,  when 
the  prince  broke  thy  head  for  liking  his  father  to 
a  singing-man  of  Windsor,  thou  didst  swear  to 
me  then,  as  I  was  washing  thy  wound,  to  marry 
me  and  make  me  my  lady  thy  wife.  Canst  thou  100 
deny  it?  Did  not  goodwife  Keech,  the  butcher's 
wife,  come  in  then  and  call  me  gossip  Quickly? 
coming  in  to  borrow  a  mess  of  vinegar ;  telling  us 
she  had  a  good  dish  of  prawns;  whereby  thou 
didst  desire  to  eat  some ;  whereby  I  told  thee  they 


28  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Arr  Two 

were  ill  for  a  green  wound?  And  didst  thou  not, 
when  she  was  gone  down  stairs,  desire  me  to  be 
no  more  so  familiarity  with  such  poor  people; 
saying  that  ere  long  they  should  call  me  madam  ? 
no  And  didst  thou  not  kiss  me  and  bid  me  fetch  thee 
thirty  shillings?  I  put  thee  now  to  thy  book- 
oath  :  deny  it,  if  thou  canst. 

Fal.  My  lord,  this  is  a  poor  mad  soul;  and 
she  says  up  and  down  the  town  that  her  eldest 
son  is  like  you :  she  hath  been  in  good  case,  and 
the  truth  is,  poverty  hath  distracted  her.  But 
for  these  foolish  officers,  I  beseech  you  I  may 
have  redress  against  them. 

Ch.  Just.  Sir  John,  Sir  John,  I  am  well 
120  acquainted  with  your  manner  of  wrenching  the 
true  cause  the  false  way.  It  is  not  a  confident 
brow,  nor  the  throng  of  words  that  come  with 
such  more  than  impudent  sauciness  from  you,  can 
thrust  me  from  a  level  consideration :  you  have, 
as  it  appears  to  me,  practised  upon  the  easy -yield- 
ing spirit  of  this  woman,  and  made  her  serve  your 
uses  both  in  purse  and  in  person. 

Host.     Yea,  in  truth,  my  lord. 

Ch.  Just.  Pray  thee,  peace.  Pay  her  the  debt 
130  you  owe  her,  and  unpay  the  villany  you  have  done 
her :  the  one  you  may  do  with  sterling  money,  and 
the  other  with  current  repentance. 

Fal.  My  lord,  I  will  not  undergo  this  sneap 
without  reply.  You  call  honourable  boldness 
impudent  sauciness :  if  a  man  will  make  courtesy 
and  say  nothing,  he  is  virtuous :  no,  my  lord,  my 
humble  duty  remembered,  I  will  not  be  your 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         29 

suitor.  I  say  to  you,  I  do  desire  deliverance  from 
these  officers,  being  upon  hasty  employment  in 
the  king's  affairs.  uo 

Ch.  Just.  You  speak  as  having  power  to  do 
wrong :  but  answer  in  the  effect  of  your  reputa- 
tion, and  satisfy  the  poor  woman. 

Fal.     Come  hither,  hostess. 

Enter  GOWER 

Ch.  Just.     Now,  Master  Gower,  what  news  ? 
Gow.     The  king,    my  lord,   and   Harry   Prince 

of  Wales 

Are  near  at  hand :  the  rest  the  paper  tells. 
Fal.     As  I  am  a  gentleman. 
Host.     Faith,  you  said  so  before. 
Fal.     As  I  am  a  gentleman.     Come,  no  more  150 
words  of  it. 

Host.  By  this  heavenly  ground  I  tread  on,  I 
must  be  fain  to  pawn  both  my  plate  and  the 
ipestry  of  my  dining-chambers. 
Fal.  Glasses,  glasses,  is  the  only  drinking: 
and  for  thy  walls,  a  pretty  slight  drollery,  or  the 
story  of  the  Prodigal,  or  the  German  hunting  in 
water-work,  is  worth  a  thousand  of  these  bed- 
hangings  and  these  fly-bitten  tapestries.  Let  it 

ten  pound,  if  thou  canst.     Come,  an  't  were  not  ieo 
for  thy  humours,  there 's  not  a  better  wench  in 
England.     Go,  wash  thy  face,  and  draw  the  action. 
}ome,  thou  must  not  be  in  this  humour  with  me; 
lost  not  know  me?  come,   come,   I   know  thou 
st  set  on  to  this. 
Host.     Pray  thee,  Sir  John,  let  it  be  but  twenty 


30  KIM;    HENRY   THE   FOIRTH     (ACT  Two 

nobles :    i'  faith,  I  am  loath  to  pawn  my  plate,  so 
God  save  me,  la ! 

Fal.     Let  it  alone ;  I  '11  make  other  shift :  you  '11 
i7<>  be  a  fool  still. 

Host.  Well,  you  shall  have  it,  though  I  pawn 
my  gown.  I  hope  you  '11  come  to  supper.  You  '11 
pay  me  all  together  ? 

Fal.  Will  I  live?  [To  Bardolph]  Go,  with 
her,  with  her ;  hook  on,  hook  on. 

Host.  Will  you  have  Doll  Tearsheet  meet  you 
at  supper  ? 

Fal.     No  more  words ;   let 's  have  her. 

[Exeunt  Hostess,  Bardolph,  Officers,  and  Boy. 

Ch.  Just.     I  have  heard  better  news. 
iso     Fal.     What 's  the  news,  my  lord  ? 

Ch.  Just.     Where  lay  the  king  last  night  ? 

Gow.     At  Basingstoke,  my  lord. 

Fal.  I  hope,  my  lord,  all 's  well :  what  is  the 
news,  my  lord  ? 

Ch.  Just.     Come  all  his  forces  back  ? 

Gow.     No;    fifteen  hundred  foot,  five  hundred 

horse, 

Are  march'd  up  to  my  lord  of  Lancaster, 
Against  Northumberland  and  the  Archbishop. 

Fal.     Comes   the   king   back   from   Wales,    my 

noble  lord  ? 

190      Ch.  Just.     You  shall  have  letters  of  me  presently  : 
Come,  go  along  with  me,  good  Master  Gower. 

Fal.     My  lord ! 

Ch.  Just.     What 's  the  matter  ? 

Fal.  Master  Gower,  shall  I  entreat  you  with 
me  to  dinner  ? 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        31 

Gow.  I  must  wait  upon  my  good  lord  here; 
I  thank  you,  good  Sir  John. 

Ch.  Just.  Sir  John,  you  loiter  here  too  long, 
being  you  are  to  take  soldiers  up  in  counties 
as  you  go.  203 

Fal.     Will  you  sup  with  me,  Master  Gower? 

Ch.  Just.  What  foolish  master  taught  you 
these  manners,  Sir  John  ? 

Fal.  Master  Gower,  if  they  become  me  not, 
he  was  a  fool  that  taught  them  me.  This  is  the 
right  fencing  grace,  my  lord ;  tap  for  tap,  and  so 
part  fair. 

Ch.  Just.  Now  the  Lord  lighten  thee !  thou 
art  a  great  fool.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  London.     Another  street 
Enter  PRINCE  HENRY  and  POINS 

Prince.     Before  God,  I  am  exceeding  weary. 

Poins.  Is  't  come  to  that?  I  had  thought 
weariness  durst  not  have  attached  one  of  so  high 
blood. 

Prince.  Faith,  it  does  me ;  though  it  discolours 
the  complexion  of  my  greatness  to  acknowledge  it. 
Doth  it  not  show  vilely  in  me  to  desire  small  beer  ? 

Poins.  Why,  a  prince  should  not  be  so  loosely 
studied  as  to  remember  so  weak  a  composition.  10 

Prince.  Belike,  then,  my  appetite  was  not 
princely  got;  for,  by  my  troth,  I  do  now  remem- 
ber the  poor  creature,  small  beer.  But,  indeed, 
these  humble  considerations  make  me  out  of  love 
with  my  greatness.  What  a  disgrace  is  it  to  me 


32  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

to  rernenil>er  thy  name !  or  to  know  thy  face  to- 
morrow !  or  to  take  note  how  many  pair  of  silk 
stockings  thou  hast,  viz.  these,  and  those  that 
were  thy  peach-coloured  ones !  or  to  bear  the 
20  inventory  of  thy  shirts,  as,  one  for  superfluity,  and 
another  for  use !  But  that  the  tennis-court-keeper 
knows  better  than  I ;  for  it  is  a  low  ebb  of  linen 
with  thee  when  thou  keepest  not  racket  there ;  aa 
thou  hast  not  done  a  great  while,  because  the 
rest  of  thy  low  countries  have  made  a  shift  to  eat 
up  thy  holland :  and  God  knows,  whether  those 
that  bawl  out  the  ruins  of  thy  linen  shall  inherit 
his  kingdom :  but  the  midwives  say  the  children 
are  not  in  the  fault;  whereupon  the  world  in- 
30  creases,  and  kindreds  are  mightily  strengthened. 

Poins.  How  ill  it  follows,  after  you  have 
laboured  so  hard,  you  should  talk  so  idly !  Tell 
me,  how  many  good  young  princes  would  do  so, 
their  fathers  being  so  sick  as  yours  at  this  time  is  ? 

Prince.     Shall  I  tell  thee  one  thing,  Poins? 

Poins.  Yes,  faith;  and  let  it  be  an  excellent 
good  thing. 

Prince.  It  shall  serve  among  wits  of  no  higher 
breeding  than  thine. 

40     Poins.     Go  to;    I  stand  the  push  of  your  one 
thing  that  you  will  tell. 

Prince.  Marry,  I  tell  thee,  it  is  not  meet  that 
I  should  be  sad,  now  my  father  is  sick :  albeit  I 
could  tell  to  thee,  as  to  one  it  pleases  me,  for 
fault  of  a  better,  to  call  my  friend,  I  could  be  sad, 
and  sad  indeed  too. 

Poins.     Very  hardly  upon  such  a  subject. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        33 

Prince.  By  this  hand,  thou  thinkest  me  as 
far  in  the  devil's  book  as  thou  and  Falstaff  for 
obduracy  and  persistency :  let  the  end  try  the  50 
man.  But  I  tell  thee,  my  heart  bleeds  inwardly 
that  my  father  is  so  sick :  and  keeping  such  vile 
company  as  thou  art  hath  in  reason  taken 
from  me  all  ostentation  of  sorrow. 

Poins.     The  reason  ? 

Prince.  What  wouldst  thou  think  of  me,  if  I 
should  weep  ? 

Poins.  I  would  think  thee  a  most  princely 
hypocrite. 

Prince.  It  would  be  every  man's  thought ;  and  eo 
thou  art  a  blessed  fellow  to  think  as  every  man 
thinks :  never  a  man's  thought  in  the  world  keeps 
the  road- way  better  than  thine  :  every  man  would 
think  me  an  hypocrite  indeed.  And  what  accites 
your  most  worshipful  thought  to  think  so? 

Poins.  Why,  because  you  have  been  so  lewd 
and  so  much  engraffed  to  Falstaff. 

Prince.     And  to  thee. 

Poins.  By  this  light,  I  am  well  spoke  on ;  I  can 
hear  it  with  mine  own  ears :  the  worst  that  they  70 
can  say  of  me  is  that  I  am  a  second  brother  and 
that  I  am  a  proper  fellow  of  my  hands ;  and  those 
two  things,  I  confess,  I  cannot  help.  By  the 
mass,  here  comes  Bardolph. 

Enter  BARDOLPH  and  Page 

Prince.  And  the  boy  that  I  gave  Falstaff:  a* 
had  him  from  me  Christian;  and  look,  if  the  fat 
villain  have  not  transformed  him  ape. 


34  KING   HENRY  THE  ?X)URTH     (ACT  Two 

Hard.     God  save  your  grace ! 

Prince.  And  yours,  most  noble  Bardolph! 
so  Bard.  Come,  you  virtuous  ass,  you  bashful 
fool,  must  you  be  blushing?  wherefore  blush  you 
now  ?  What  a  maidenly  man-at-arms  are  you 
become !  Is  't  such  a  matter  to  get  a  pottle-pot's 
maidenhead  ? 

Page.  A'  calls  me  e'en  now,  my  lord,  through 
a  red  lattice,  and  I  could  discern  no  part  of  his 
face  from  the  window :  at  last  I  spied  his  eyes, 
and  methought  he  had  made  two  holes  in  the 
ale-wife's  new  petticoat  and  so  peeped  through. 
90  Prince.  Has  not  the  boy  profited  ? 

Bard.     Away,    you    whoreson    upright    rabbit, 
away! 

Page.     Away,    you    rascally    Althaea's    dream, 


away 


Prince.     Instruct  us,  boy ;    what  dream,  boy  ? 

Page.  Marry,  my  lord,  Althaea  dreamed  she 
was  delivered  of  a  fire-brand;  and  therefore  I 
call  him  her  dream. 

Prince.  A  crown's  worth  of  good  interpreta- 
100  tion  :  there  't  is,  boy. 

Poins.  O,  that  this  good  blossom  could  be 
kept  from  cankers !  Well,  there  is  sixpence  to 
preserve  thee. 

Bard.  An  you  do  not  make  him  hanged  among 
you,  the  gallows  shall  have  wrong. 

Prince.     And  how  doth  thy  master,  Bardolph? 

Bard.  Well,  my  lord.  He  heard  of  your 
grace's  coming  to  town  :  there  's  a  letter  for  you. 

Poins.     Delivered  with  good  respect.     And  how 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         35 

doth  the  martlemas,  your  master  ?  no 

Bard.     In  bodily  health,  sir. 

Poins.  Marry,  the  immortal  part  needs  a 
physician ;  but  that  moves  not  him :  though 
that  be  sick,  it  dies  not. 

Prince.  I  do  allow  this  wen  to  be  as  familiar 
with  me  as  my  dog;  and  he  holds  his  place;  for 
look  you  how  he  writes. 

Poins.  [Reads]  "John  Falstaff,  knight,"  —  every 
man  must  know  that,  as  oft  as  he  has  occasion  to 
name  himself :  even  like  those  that  are  kin  to  the  120 
king;  for  they  never  prick  their  finger  but  they 
say,  "There's  some  of  the  king's  blood  spilt." 
"How  comes  that?"  says  he,  that  takes  upon 
him  not  to  conceive.  The  answer  is  as  ready 
as  a  borrower's  cap,  "I  am  the  king's  poor 
cousin,  sir." 

Prince.  Nay,  they  will  be  kin  to  us,  or  they 
will  fetch  it  from  Japhet.  But  to  the  letter : 

Poins.     [Reads]   "Sir  John  Falstaff,  knight,  to 
the  son  of  the  king,   nearest  his  father,   Harry  iso 
Prince    of    Wales,    greeting."     Why,    this    is    a 
certificate. 

Prince.     Peace ! 

Poins.  [Reads]  "I  will  imitate  the  honour- 
able Romans  in  brevity":  he  sure  means  brevity 
in  breath,  short-winded.  "I  commend  me  to  thee, 
1  commend  thee,  and  I  leave  thee.  Be  not  too 
familiar  with  Poins;  for  he  misuses  thy  favours 
so  much,  that  he  swears  thou  art  to  marry  his 
sister  Nell.  Repent  at  idle  times  as  thou  mayest ;  140 
and  so,  farewell. 


36  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

"Thine,  by  yea  and  no,  which  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  as  thou  usest  him,  JACK  FAL- 
KTAFF  with  my  familiars,  JOHN  with  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  SIR  JOHN  with 
all  Europe." 

My  lord,  I  '11  steep  this  letter  in  sack  and  make 
him  eat  it. 

Prince.     That 's    to    make    him    eat   twenty  of 
iso  his  words.     But  do  you  use  me  thus,  Ned?  must 
I  marry  your  sister  ? 

Poins.  God  send  the  wench  no  worse  fortune ! 
But  I  never  said  so. 

Prince.  Well,  thus  we  play  the  fools  with 
the  time,  and  the  spirits  of  the  wise  sit  in  the 
clouds  and  mock  us.  Is  your  master  here  in 
London  ? 

Bard.     Yea,  my  lord. 

Prince.     Where   sups    he?    doth    the   old    boar 
leo  feed  in  the  old  frank  ? 

Bard.  At  the  old  place,  my  lord,  in  East- 
cheap. 

Prince.     What  company  ? 
Page.     Ephesians,  my  lord,  of  the  old  church. 
Prince.     Sup  any  women  with  him  ? 
Page.     None,  my  lord,  but  old  Mistress  Quickly 
and  Mistress  Doll  Tearsheet. 

Prince.     What  pagan  may  that  be  ? 
Page.     A  proper  gentlewoman,  sir,  and  a  kins- 
no  woman  of  my  master's. 

Prince.  Even  such  kin  as  the  parish  heifers 
are  to  the  town  bull.  Shall  we  steal  upon  them, 
Ned,  at  supper? 


SCENE  THREE]    KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     37 

Poins.  I  am  your  shadow,  my  lord ;  I  '11  follow 
you. 

Prince.  Sirrah,  you  boy,  and  Bardolph,  no 
word  to  your  master  that  I  am  yet  come  to  town : 
there 's  for  your  silence. 

Bard.     I  have  no  tongue,  sir. 

Page.     And  for  mine,  sir,  I  will  govern  it.  iso 

Prince.  Fare  you  well;  go.  [Exeunt  Bardolph 
and  Page.]  This  Doll  Tearsheet  should  be  some 
road. 

Poins.  I  warrant  you,  as  common  as  the  way 
between  Saint  Alban's  and  London. 

Prince.  How  might  we  see  Falstaff  bestow 
himself  to-night  in  his  true  colours,  and  not  our- 
selves be  seen  ? 

Poins.      Put    on     two     leathern     jerkins    and 
aprons,    and   wait    upon    him    at    his    table    as  100 
drawers. 

Prince.  From  a  God  to  a  bull?  a  heavy 
descension !  it  was  Jove's  case.  From  a  prince 
to  a  prentice  ?  a  low  transformation !  that  shall 
be  mine;  for  in  every  thing  the  purpose  must 
weigh  with  the  folly.  Follow  me,  Ned.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Warkworth.     Before  the  castle 

Enter  NORTHUMBERLAND,  LADY  NORTHUMBERLAND,  and 
LADY  PERCY 

North.     I   pray   thee,   loving   wife,    and   gentle 

daughter, 

Give  even  way  unto  my  rough  affairs : 
Put  not  you  on  the  visage  of  the  times 


88  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

And  be  like  them  to  Percy  troublesome. 

Lady  \.     1  have  given   over,   I   will   speak  no 

more: 

Do  what  you  will ;   your  wisdom  be  your  guide. 
North.     Alas,    sweet    wife,    my    honour    is    at 

pawn ; 
And,  but  my  going,  nothing  can  redeem  it. 

Lady  P.     O  yet,  for  God's  sake,  go  not  to  these 

wars! 

10  The  time  was,  father,  that  you  broke  your  word, 
When  you  were  more  endear'd  to  it  than  now ; 
When   your   own    Percy,    when    my   heart's   dear 

Harry, 

Threw  many  a  northward  look  to  see  his  father 
Bring  up  his  powers ;  but  he  did  long  in  vain. 
Who  then  persuaded  you  to  stay  at  home  ? 
There  were  two  honours  lost,  yours  and  your  son's. 
For  yours,  the  God  of  heaven  brighten  it ! 
For  his,  it  stuck  upon  him  as  the  sun 
In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven,  and  by  his  light 
20  Did  all  the  chivalry  of  England  move 
To  do  brave  acts :  he  was  indeed  the  glass 
Wherein  the  noble  youth  did  dress  themselves : 
He  had  no  legs  that  practised  not  his  gait ; 
And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish, 
Became  the  accents  of  the  valiant ; 
For  those  that  could  speak  low  and  tardily 
Would  turn  their  own  perfection  to  abuse, 
To  seem  like  him  :  so  that  in  speech,  in  gait, 
In  diet,  in  affections  of  delight, 
30  In  military  rules,  humours  of  blood, 
He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 


SCENE  THREE]     KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      39 

That   fashion'd   others.     And   him,    O   wondrous 

him ! 

O  miracle  of  men !  him  did  you  leave, 
Second  to  none,  unseconded  by  you, 
To  look  upon  the  hideous  god  of  war 
In  disadvantage ;  to  abide  a  field 
Where  nothing  but  the  sound  of  Hotspur's  name 
Did  seem  defensible :  so  you  left  him. 
Never,  O  never,  do  his  ghost  the  wrong 
To  hold  your  honour  more  precise  and  nice  40 

With  others  than  with  him  !  let  them  alone  : 
The  marshal  and  the  archbishop  are  strong : 
Had  my  sweet  Harry  had  but  half  their  numbers, 
To-day  might  I,  hanging  on  Hotspur's  neck, 
Have  talk'd  of  Monmouth's  grave. 

North.  Beshrew  your  heart, 

Fair  daughter,  you  do  draw  my  spirits  from  me 
With  new  lamenting  ancient  oversights. 
But  I  must  go  and  meet  with  danger  there, 
Or  it  will  seek  me  in  another  place 
And  find  me  worse  provided. 

Lady  N.  O,  fly  to  Scotland,     so 

Till  that  the  nobles  and  the  armed  commons 
Have  of  their  puissance  made  a  little  taste. 

Lady  P.     If  they  get  ground  and  vantage  of  the 

king, 

Then  join  you  with  them,  like  a  rib  of  steel, 
To  make  strength  stronger ;   but,  for  all  our  loves, 
First  let  them  try  themselves.     So  did  your  son; 
He  was  so  suffer'd :  so  came  I  a  widow ; 
And  never  shall  have  length  of  life  enough 
To  rain  upon  remembrance  with  mine  eyes, 


40  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

eo  That  it  may  grow  and  sprout  as  high  as  heaven, 
For  recordation  to  my  noble  husband. 

\orth.     Come,   come,   go    in   with    me.     'T   is 

with  my  mind 

As  with  the  tide  swell'd  up  unto  his  height, 
That  makes  a  still-stand,  running  neither  way : 
Fain  would  I  go  to  meet  the  archbishop, 
But  many  thousand  reasons  hold  me  back. 
I  will  resolve  for  Scotland  :   there  am  I, 
Till  time  and  vantage  crave  my  company.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV  —  London.     The  Boar'a-head  Tavern 
in  Ecutcheap 

Enter  trco  Drawers 

First  Draw.  What  the  devil  hast  thou  brought 
there?  apple-Johns?  thou  knowest  Sir  John  can- 
not endure  an  apple-John. 

Sec.  Draw.  Mass,  thou  sayest  true.  The 
prince  once  set  a  dish  of  apple- Johns  before  him, 
and  told  him  there  were  five  more  Sir  Johns, 
and,  putting  off  his  hat,  said  "  I  will  now  take 
my  leave  of  these  six  dry,  round,  old,  withered 
knights."  It  angered  him  to  the  heart :  but  he 
10  hath  forgot  that. 

First  Draw.  Why,  then,  cover,  and  set  them 
down :  and  see  if  thou  canst  find  out  Sneak's 
noise;  Mistress  Tearsheet  would  fain  hear  some 
music.  Dispatch :  the  room  where  they  supped 
is  too  hot ;  they  '11  come  in  straight. 

Sec.  Draw.  Sirrah,  here  will  be  the  prince 
and  Master  Poins  anon ;  and  they  will  put  on 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       41 

two  of  our  jerkins  and  aprons ;  and  Sir  John 
must  not  know  of  it :  Bardolph  hath  brought 
word.  20 

First   Draw.     By   the   mass,    here   will   be   old 
Utis  :  it  will  be  an  excellent  stratagem. 
Sec.  Draw.     I  '11  see  if  I  can  find  out  Sneak. 

[Exit. 
Enter  Hostess  and  DOLL  TEARSHEET 

Host.  I'  faith,  sweetheart,  methinks  now  you 
are  in  an  excellent  good  temperality :  your  pul- 
sidge  beats  as  extraordinarily  as  heart  would 
desire ;  and  your  colour,  I  warrant  you,  is  as 
red  as  any  rose,  in  good  truth,  la !  But,  i'  faith, 
you  have  drunk  too  much  canaries ;  and  that 's 
a  marvellous  searching  wine,  and  it  perfumes  30 
the  blood  ere  one  can  say  "  What 's  this?"  How 
do  you  now  ? 

Dot.     Better  than  I  was  :  hem ! 

Host.  Why,  that 's  well  said ;  a  good  heart 's 
worth  gold.  Lo,  here  comes  Sir  John. 

Enter  FALSTAFF 

Fal.  [Singing]  "When  Arthur  first  in  court" 
—  Empty  the  Jordan.  [Exit  First  Drawer.]  — 
[Singing]  "And  was  a  worthy  king."  How  now, 
Mistress  Doll ! 

Host.     Sick  of  a  calm ;  yea,  good  faith.  40 

Fal.  So  is  all  her  sect;  an  they  be  once  in  a 
calm,  they  are  sick. 

Dot.  You  muddy  rascal,  is  that  all  the  comfort 
you  give  me  ? 

Fal.     You  make  fat  rascals,  Mistress  Doll. 


42  KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH     (ACT  Two 

Dot.  I  make  them !  gluttony  and  diseases 
make  them ;  I  make  them  not. 

Fal.     If  the  cook  help  to  make  the  gluttony, 
you  help  to  make  the  diseases,  Doll :    we  catch 
so  of  you,  Doll,  we  catch  of  you;    grant  that,  my 
poor  virtue,  grant  that. 

Dot.     Yea,  joy,  our  chains  and  our  jewels. 

Fal.  "Your  brooches,  pearls,  and  ouches": 
for  to  serve  bravely  is  to  come  halting  off,  you 
know :  to  come  off  the  breach  with  his  pike  bent 
bravely,  and  to  surgery  bravely ;  to  venture  upon 
the  charged  chambers  bravely,  — 

Dol.  Hang  yourself,  you  muddy  conger,  hang 
yourself ! 

eo  Host.  By  my  troth,  this  is  the  old  fashion : 
you  two  never  meet  but  you  fall  to  some  discord : 
you  are  both,  i'  good  truth,  as  rheumatic  as  two 
dry  toasts;  you  cannot  one  bear  with  another's 
confirmities.  What  the  good-year !  one  must 
bear,  and  that  must  be  you :  you  are  the  weaker 
vessel,  as  they  say,  the  emptier  vessel. 

Dol.  Can  a  weak  empty  vessel  bear  such  a 
huge  full  hogshead?  there's  a  whole  merchant's 
venture  of  Bourdeaux  stuff  in  him ;  you  have  not 
-o  seen  a  hulk  better  stuffed  in  the  hold.  Come, 
I  '11  be  friends  with  thee,  Jack :  thou  art  going 
to  the  wars;  and  whether  I  shall  ever  see  thee 
again  or  no,  there  is  nobody  cares. 

Re-enter  First  Drawer 

First  Draw.  Sir.  Ancient  Pistol 's  below,  and 
would  speak  with  you. 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH       43 

Dol.  Hang  him,  swaggering  rascal !  let  him 
not  come  hither:  it  is  the  foul-mouthed'st  rogue 
in  England. 

Host.  If  he  swagger,  let  him  not  come  here : 
no,  by  my  faith;  I  must  live  among  my  neigh- so 
hours ;  I  '11  no  swaggerers :  I  am  in  good  name 
and  fame  with  the  very  best:  shut  the  door; 
there  comes  no  swaggerers  here :  I  have  not 
lived  all  this  while,  to  have  swaggering  now : 
shut  the  door,  I  pray  you. 

Fal.     Dost  thou  hear,  hostess  ? 

Host.  Pray  ye,  pacify  yourself,  Sir  John : 
there  comes  no  swaggerers  here. 

Fal.     Dost  thou  hear?  it  is  mine  ancient. 

Host.  Tilly -fally,  Sir  John,  ne'er  tell  me :  90 
your  ancient  swaggerer  comes  not  in  my  doors. 
I  was  before  Master  Tisick,  the  debuty,  t'  other 
day ;  and,  as  he  said  to  me,  't  was  no  longer  ago 
than  Wednesday  last,  "I*  good  faith,  neighbour 
Quickly,"  says  he;  Master  Dumbe,  our  minister, 
was  by  then;  "neighbour  Quickly,"  says  he, 
"receive  those  that  are  civil;  for,"  said  he,  "you 
are  in  an  ill  name":  now  a'  said  so,  I  can  tell 
whereupon;  "for,"  says  he,  "you  are  an  honest 
woman,  and  well  thought  on ;  therefore  take  100 
heed  what  guests  you  receive :  receive,"  says  he, 
"no  swaggering  companions."  There  comes  none 
here :  you  would  bless  you  to  hear  what  he  said : 
no,  I  '11  no  swaggerers. 

Fed.  He 's  no  swaggerer,  hostess ;  a  tame 
cheater,  i'  faith;  you  may  stroke  him  as  gently 
as  a  puppy  greyhound :  he  '11  not  swagger  with  a 


44  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  Two 

Barbary  hen,   if  her  feathers  turn  back  in  any 
show  of  resistance.     Call  him  up,  drawer. 

[Exit  First  Drawer. 

no  Host.  Cheater,  call  you  him?  I  will  bar  no 
honest  man  my  house,  nor  no  cheater :  but  I  do 
not  love  swaggering,  by  my  troth ;  I  am  the 
worse,  when  one  says  swagger :  feel,  masters, 
how  I  shake ;  look  you,  I  warrant  you. 
Dol.  So  you  do,  hostess. 

Host.  Do  I?  yea,  in  very  truth,  do  I,  an 
't  were  an  aspen  leaf :  I  cannot  abide  swag- 
gerers. 

Enter  PISTOL,  BAKDOLPII,  and  Page 

Pist.     God  save  you,  Sir  John  ! 

120  Fed.  Welcome,  Ancient  Pistol.  Here,  Pistol,  I 
charge  you  with  a  cup  of  sack :  do  you  discharge 
upon  mine  hostess. 

Pist.  I  will  discharge  upon  her,  Sir  John,  with 
two  bullets. 

Fed.  She  is  pistol-proof,  sir;  you  shall  hardly 
offend  her. 

Host.  Come,  I  '11  drink  no  proofs  nor  no  bullets : 
I  '11  drink  no  more  than  will  do  me  good,  for  no 
man's  pleasure,  I. 

130  Pist.  Then  to  you,  Mistress  Dorothy;  I  will 
charge  you. 

Dol.  Charge  me !  I  scorn  you,  scurvy  com- 
panion. What !  you  poor,  base,  rascally,  cheat- 
ing, lack-linen  mate !  Away,  you  mouldy  rogue, 
away !  I  am  meat  for  your  master. 

Pist.     I  know  you,  Mistress  Dorothy. 

Dol.     Away,  you  cut-purse  rascal !  you  filthy 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       45 

bung,  away !  by  'this  wine,  I  '11  thrust  my  knife  in 
your  mouldy  chaps,  an  you  play  the  saucy  cuttle 
with  me.  Away,  you  bottle-ale  rascal !  you  140 
basket-hilt  stale  juggler,  you !  Since  when,  I 
pray  you,  sir?  God's  light,  with  two  points  on 
your  shoulder  ?  much  ! 

Pist.     God  let  me  not  live,  but  I  will  murder 
your  ruff  for  this. 

Fal.    No  more,  Pistol ;    I  would  not  have  you  go 
off  here  :    discharge  yourself  of  our  company,  Pistol. 

Host.    No,  good  Captain  Pistol ;  not  here,  sweet 
captain.  iso 

Dol.  Captain !  thou  abominable  damned 
cheater,  art  thou  not  ashamed  to  be  called 
captain?  An  captains  were  of  my  mind,  they 
would  truncheon  you  out,  for  taking  their  names 
upon  you  before  you  have  earned  them.  You  a 
captain !  you  slave,  for  what  ?  for  tearing  a  poor 
whore's  ruff  in  a  bawdy-house?  He  a  captain! 
hang  him,  rogue !  he  lives  upon  mouldy  stewed 
prunes  and  dried  cakes.  A  captain !  God's  light, 
these  villains  will  make  the  word  as  odious  as  ieo 
the  word  "occupy";  which  was  an  excellent  good 
word  before  it  was  ill  sorted :  therefore  captains 
had  need  look  to  't. 

Bard.     Pray  thee,  go  down,  good  ancient, 

Fal.    Hark  thee  hither,  Mistress  Doll. 

Pist.    Not  I:    I  tell  thee  what,  Corporal  Bar- 
dolph,  I  could  tear  her :  I  '11  be  revenged  of  her. 

Page.     Pray  thee,  go  down. 

Pist.     I  '11   see   her    damned   first ;     to    Pluto's 
damned  lake,  by  this  hand,  to  the  infernal  deep,  170 


46  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

with  Erebus  and  tortures  vile  also.  Hold  hook 
and  line,  say  I.  Down,  down,  dogs!  down, 
faitors  !  Have  we  not  Hiren  here? 

Host.  Good  Captain  Peesel,  be  quiet ;  't  is 
very  late,  i'  faith  :  I  beseek  you  now,  aggravate 
your  choler. 

Pist.     These  be  good  humours,  indeed !     Shall 

pack-horses 

And  hollow  pamper'd  jades  of  Asia, 
Which  cannot  go  but  thirty  mile  a-day, 
iso  Compare  with  Caesars,  and  with  Cannibals, 

And  Trojan  Greeks  ?  nay,  rather  damn  them  with 
King  Cerberus ;  and  let  the  welkin  roar. 
Shall  we  fall  foul  for  toys  ? 

Host.  By  my  troth,  captain,  these  are  very 
bitter  words. 

Bard.  Be  gone,  good  ancient :  this  will  grow 
to  a  brawl  anon. 

Pist.     Die   men   like    dogs !    give    crowns    like 
pins  !     Have  we  not  Hiren  here  ? 
190     Host.     O'  my  word,  captain,  there  's  none  such 
here.     What  the  good-year !  do  you  think  I  would 
deny  her?     For  God's  sake,  be  quiet. 

Pist.  Then  feed,  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis. 
Come,  give  's  some  sack. 

"Si  fortune  me  tormente,  sperato  me  contento." 
Fear  we  broadsides?   no,  let  the  fiend  give  fire: 
Give  me  some  sack :    and,   sweetheart,   lie  thou 
there.  [Laying  down  his  sword. 

Come  we  to  full  points  here;    and  are  etceteras 
nothing  ? 

Fal.     Pistol,  I  would  be  quiet. 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       47 

Pist.     Sweet   knight,    I   kiss   thy   neif :     what !  200 
we  have  seen  the  seven  stars. 

Dol.  For  God's  sake,  thrust  him  down  stairs : 
I  cannot  endure  such  a  fustian  rascal. 

Pist.  Thrust  him  down  stairs !  know  we  not 
Galloway  nags  ? 

Fal.  Quoit  him  down,  Bardolph,  like  a  shove- 
groat  shilling:  nay,  an  a'  do  nothing  but  speak 
nothing,  a'  shall  be  nothing  here. 

Bard.     Come,  get  you  down  stairs. 

Pist.     What !  shall  we  have  incision  ?  shall  we 

imbrue  ?  [Snatching  up  his  sword.  210 

Then  death  rock  me  asleep,  abridge  my  doleful 

days! 

Why,  then,  let  grievous,  ghastly,  gaping  wounds 
Untwine    the    Sisters    Three !     Come,     Atropos, 
I  say! 

Host.     Here  's  a  goodly  stuff  toward  ! 

Fal.     Give  me  my  rapier,  boy. 

Dol.  I  pray  thee,  Jack,  I  pray  thee,  do  not 
draw. 

Fal.     Get  you  down  stairs. 

[Draioing,  and  driving  Pistol  out. 

Host.     Here  's  a  goodly  tumult !     I  '11  forswear 
keeping  house,  afore  I  '11  be  in   these   tirrits  and  220 
frights.     So;      murder,     I    warrant    now.     Alas, 
las!  put  up  your  naked  weapons,  put  up  your 
naked  weapons.  [Exeunt  Pistol  and  Bardolph. 

Dol.  I  pray  thee,  Jack,  be  quiet ;  the  rascal 's 
gone.  Ah,  you  whoreson  little  valiant  villain,  you  ! 

Host.  Are  you  not  hurt  i'  the  groin  ?  methought 
i'  made  a  shrewd  thrust  at  your  belly. 


48  KING   HENRY  THE   tX)URTH     [Act  Two 

Re-enter  BARDOLPH 

Fal.     Have  you  turned  him  out  o'  doors  ? 
230     Bard.     Yea,    sir.     The    rascal 's    drunk :     you 
have  hurt  him,  sir,  i'  the  shoulder. 

Fal.     A  rascal !  to  brave  me  ! 

Dol.  Ah,  you  sweet  little  rogue,  you  !  Alas,  poor 
ape,  how  thou  sweatest !  come,  let  me  wipe  thy 
face ;  come  on,  you  whoreson  chops :  ah,  rogue ! 
i'  faith,  I  love  thee :  thou  art  as  valorous  as 
Hector  of  Troy,  worth  five  of  Agamemnon,  and 
ten  times  better  than  the  Nine  Worthies :  ah, 
villain ! 

240     Fal.     A  rascally  slave !  I  will  toss  the  rogue  in 
a  blanket. 

Dol.  Do,  an  thou  darest  for  thy  heart :  an 
thou  dost,  I  '11  canvass  thee  between  a  pair  of 
sheets. 

Enter  Music 

Page.     The  music  is  come,  sir. 

Fal.  Let  them  play.  Play,  sirs.  Sit  on  my 
knee,  Doll.  A  rascal  bragging  slave !  the  rogue 
fled  from  me  like  quicksilver. 

Dol.     I'  faith,  and  thou  followedst  him  like  a 

250  church.     Thou  whoreson  little  tidy  Bartholomew 

boar-pig,  when  wilt  thou  leave  fighting  o*  days  and 

foining  o'  nights,   and  begin  to  patch  up  thine 

old  body  for  heaven  ? 

Enter,  behind,  PRINCE  HEXRY  and  Poixs,  disguised 

Fal.  Peace,  good  Doll !  do  not  speak  like  a 
death's-head ;  do  not  bid  me  remember  mine  end. 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       49 

Dol.     Sirrah,  what  humour  's  the  prince  of  ? 

Fal.  A  good  shallow  young  fellow :  a'  would 
have  made  a  good  pantler,  a'  would  ha'  chipped 
bread  well. 

Dol.     They  say  Poins  has  a  good  wit.  260 

FaL  He  a  good  wit  ?  hang  him,  baboon !  his 
wit 's  as  thick  as  Tewksbury  mustard ;  there  's 
no  more  conceit  in  him  than  is  in  a  mallet. 

Dol.     Why  does  the  prince  love  him  so,  then  ? 

Fal.  Because  their  legs  are  both  of  a  bigness, 
and  a'  plays  at  quoits  well,  and  eats  conger  and 
fennel,  and  drinks  off  candles'  ends  for  flap- 
dragons,  and  rides  the  wild-mare  with  the  boys, 
and  jumps  upon  joined-stools,  and  swears  with  a 
good  grace,  and  wears  his  boots  very  smooth,  270 
like  unto  the  sign  of  the  leg,  and  breeds  no  bate 
with  telling  of  discreet  stories ;  and  such  other 
gambol  faculties  a'  has,  that  show  a  weak  mind 
and  an  able  body,  for  the  which  the  prince  admits 
him :  for  the  prince  himself  is  such  another ;  the 
weight  of  a  hair  will  turn  the  scales  between 
their  avoirdupois. 

Prince.  Would  not  this  nave  of  a  wheel  have 
his  ears  cut  off  ? 

Poins.     Let 's  beat  him  before  his  whore.  zso 

Prince.  Look,  whether  the  withered  elder  hath 
not  his  poll  clawed  like  a  parrot. 

Poins.  Is  it  not  strange  that  desire  should 
so  many  years  outlive  performance? 

Fal.     Kiss  me,  Doll. 

Prince.  Saturn  and  Venus  this  year  in  con- 
junction !  what  says  the  almanac  to  that  ? 


50  KING   HENRY  THE   FOI'RTH     [Arr  Two 

Poina.  And,  look,  whether  the  fiery  Trigon, 
his  man,  be  not  lisping  to  his  master's  old  tables, 
'"*}  his  note-book,  his  counsel-keeper. 

Fal.     Thou  dost  give  me  flattering  busses. 

Dot.  By  my  troth,  I  kiss  thee  with  a  most 
constant  heart. 

Fal.     I  am  old,  I  am  old. 

Dol.  I  love  thee  better  than  I  love  e'er  a  scurvy 
young  boy  of  them  all. 

Fal.  What  stuff  wilt  have  a  kirtle  of  ?  I  shall 
receive  money  o'  Thursday  :  shalt  have  a  cap  to- 
morrow. A  merry  song,  come :  it  grows  late ; 
300  we  '11  to  bed.  Thou  'It  forget  me  when  I  am  gone. 

Dol.  By  my  troth,  thou  'It  set  me  a-weeping, 
an  thou  sayest  so :  prove  that  ever  I  dress  myself 
handsome  till  thy  return  :  well,  hearken  at  the  end. 

Fal.     Some  sack,  Francis. 

Prince. 


p  .         ,  Anon,  anon,  sir.  [Coming  forward. 

Fal.  Ha !  a  bastard  son  of  the  king's  ?  And 
art  not  thou  Poins  his  brother  ? 

Prince.  Why,  thou  globe  of  sinful  continents, 
310  what  a  life  dost  thou  lead  ! 

Fal.  A  better  than  thou :  I  am  a  gentleman ; 
thou  art  a  drawer. 

Prince.  Very  true,  sir ;  and  I  come  to  draw  you 
out  by  the  ears. 

Host.  O,  the  Lord  preserve  thy  good  grace ! 
by  my  troth,  welcome  to  Ixindon.  Now,  the 
Ix>rd  bless  that  sweet  face  of  thine!  O  Jesu,  are 
you  come  from  Wales  ? 

Fal.     Thou   whoreson   mad   compound   of  ma- 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       51 

jesty,  by  this  light  flesh  and  corrupt  blood,  thou  320 
art  welcome. 

Dot.     How,  you  fat  fool !     I  scorn  you. 

Poins.  My  lord,  he  will  drive  you  out  of  your 
revenge  and  turn  all  to  a  merriment,  if  you  take 
not  the  heat. 

Prince.  You  whoreson  candle-mine,  you,  how 
vilely  did  you  speak  of  me  even  now  before  this 
honest,  virtuous,  civil  gentlewoman  ! 

Host.  God's  blessing  of  your  good  heart !  and 
so  she  is,  by  my  troth.  330 

Fal.     Didst  thou  hear  me  ? 

Prince.  Yea;  and  you  knew  me,  as  you  did 
when  you  ran  away  by  Gad's-hill :  you  knew  I 
was  at  your  back,  and  spoke  it  on  purpose  to  try 
my  patience. 

Fal.  No,  no,  no ;  not  so ;  I  did  not  think  thou 
wast  within  hearing. 

Prince.  I  shall  drive  you  then  to  confess  the 
wilful  abuse ;  and  then  I  know  how  to  handle  you. 

Fal.     No  abuse,  Hal,  o'  mine  honour ;  no  abuse.  340 

Prince.  Not  to  dispraise  me,  and  call  me  pant- 
ler  and  bread-chipper  and  I  know  not  what? 

Fal.     No  abuse,  Hal. 

Poins.     No  abuse  ? 

Fal.  No  abuse,  Ned,  i'  the  world;  honest 
Ned,  none.  I  dispraised  him  before  the  wicked, 
that  the  wicked  might  not  fall  in  love  with  him; 
in  which  doing,  I  have  done  the  part  of  a  careful 
friend  and  a  true  subject,  and  thy  father  is  to 
give  me  thanks  for  it.  No  abuse,  Hal :  none,  350 
Ned,  none :  no,  faith,  boys,  none. 


5*  KING   HENRY   THE   FOUITH     [At-r  Two 

Prince.  See  now,  whether  pure  fear  and  entire 
cowardice  doth  not  make  thee  wrong  this  virtu- 
ous gentlewoman  to  close  with  us.  Is  she 
of  the  wicked  ?  is  thine  hostess  here  of  the 
wicked  ?  or  is  thy  boy  of  the  wicked  ?  or  honest 
Bardolph,  whose  zeal  burns  in  his  nose,  of  the 
wicked  ? 

Poins.     Answer,  thou  dead  elm,  answer. 

Fal.     The   fiend   hath   pricked   down   Bardolph 
3oo  irrecoverable ;     and    his   face   is    Lucifer's    privy- 
kitchen,  where  he  doth  nothing  but  roast  malt- 
worms.     For  the  boy,  there  is  a  good  angel  about 
him ;   but  the  devil  outbids  him  too. 

Prince.     For  the  women  ? 

Fal.  For  one  of  them,  she  is  in  hell  already, 
and  burns  poor  souls.  For  the  other,  I  owe  her 
money ;  and  whether  she  be  damned  for  that, 
I  know  not. 

Host.     No,  I  warrant  you. 

37o  Fal.  No,  I  think  thou  art  not ;  I  think  thou 
art  quit  for  that.  Marry,  there  is  another  indict- 
ment upon  thee,  for  suffering  flesh  to  be  eaten  in 
thy  house,  contrary  to  the  law;  for  the  which  I 
think  thou  wilt  howl. 

Host.  All  victuallers  do  so :  what 's  a  joint  of 
mutton  or  two  in  a  whole  Lent  ? 

Prince.     You,  gentlewoman,  — 

Dol.     What  says  your  grace  ? 

Fal.     His  grace  says  that  which  his  flesh  rebels 
3Ho  against.  [Knocking  irithin. 

Host.  Who  knocks  so  loud  at  door?  Ixx>k  to 
the  door  there,  Francis. 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       53 

Enter  PETO 

Prince.     Peto,  how  now  !  what  news  ? 

Peto.     The  king  your  father  is  at  Westminster; 
And  there  are  twenty  weak  and  wearied  posts 
Come  from  the  north  :  and,  as  I  came  along, 
I  met  and  overtook  a  dozen  captains, 
Bare-headed,  sweating,  knocking  at  the  taverns, 
And  asking  every  one  for  Sir  John  Falstaff. 

Prince.     By  heaven,  Poins,  I  feel  me  much  to 

blame,  390 

So  idly  to  profane  the  precious  time, 
When  tempest  of  commotion,  like  the  south 
Borne  with  black  vapour,  doth  begin  to  melt 
And  drop  upon  our  bare  unarmed  heads. 
Give   me   my   sword   and   cloak.     Falstaff,    good 
night.  [Exeunt  Prince  Henry,  Poins, 

Peto,  and  Bardolph. 

Fal.  Now  comes  in  the  sweetest  morsel  of 
the  night,  and  we  must  hence  and  leave  it  unpicked. 
[Knocking  within.]  More  knocking  at  the  door ! 

Re-enter  BAHDOLPH 

How  now  !  what 's  the  matter  ?  400 

Bard.  You  must  away  to  court,  sir,  presently ; 
A  dozen  captains  stay  at  door  for  you. 

Fal.  [To  the  Page]  Pay  the  musicians,  sirrah. 
Farewell,  hostess;  farewell,  Doll.  You  see,  my 
good  wenches,  how  men  of  merit  are  sought  after ; 
the  undeserver  may  sleep,  when  the  man  of  action 
is  called  on.  Farewell,  good  wenches  :  if  I  be  not 
sent  away  post,  I  will  see  you  again  ere  I  go. 


54         KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  THREE 

Dol.     I  cannot  speak ;   if  my  heart  be  not  ready 

410  to  burst,  —  well,  sweet  Jack,  have  a  care  of  thyself. 

Fal.     Farewell,   farewell.     [Exeunt   Falstaff  and 

Bardolph. 

Host.  Well,  fare  thee  well :  I  have  known  thee 
these  twenty  nine  years,  come  peascod-time ;  but 
an  honester  and  truer-hearted  man,  —  well,  fare 
thee  well. 

Bard.     [Within]  Mistress  Tearsheet ! 
Host.     What 's  the  matter? 
Bard.     [Within]    Bid   Mistress   Tearsheet   come 
to  my  master. 

420     Host.     O,  run,  Doll,  run  ;  run,  pood  Doll :  come. 
[She  comes  blubbered.]     Yea,  will  you  come,  Doll? 

[Exeunt. 


ACT   III 

SCENE  I  —  Westminster.     The  palace 
Enter  the  KING  m  his  nightgown,  with  a  Page 

King.     Go    call    the    Earls    of    Surrey    and    of 

Warwick ; 
But,    ere    they   come,    bid    them    o'er-read    these 

letters, 
And  well  consider  of  them :    make  good  speed. 

[Exit  Page. 

How  many  thousand  of  my  poorest  subjects 
Are  at  this  hour  asleep !     O  sleep,  O  gentle  sleep, 
Nature's  soft  nurse,  how  have  I  frighted  thee, 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eyelids  down 
And  steep  my  senses  in  forgetf ulness  ? 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         55 

Why  rather,  sleep,  liest  thon  in  smoky  cribs, 

Upon  uneasy  pallets  stretching  thee  10 

And  hush'd  with  buzzing  night-flies  to  thy  slumber, 

Than  in  the  perfumed  chambers  of  the  great, 

Under  the  canopies  of  costly  state, 

And  lull'd  with  sound  of  sweetest  melody  ? 

O  thou  dull  god,  why  liest  thou  with  the  vile 

In  loathsome  beds,  and  leavest  the  kingly  couch 

A  watch-case  or  a  common  'larum-bell  ? 

Wilt  thou  upon  the  high  and  giddy  mast 

Seal  up  the  ship-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains 

In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  surge  20 

And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 

Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 

Curling  their  monstrous  heads  and  hanging  them 

With  deafening  clamour  in  the  slippery  clouds, 

That,  with  the  hurly,  death  itself  awakes  ? 

Canst  thou,  O  partial  sleep,  give  thy  repose 

To  the  wet  sea-boy  in  an  hour  so  rude, 

And  in  the  calmest  and  most  stillest  night, 

With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot, 

Deny  it  to  a  king?     Then  happy  low,  lie  down !     so 

Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

Enter  WABWICK  and  SURREY 

War.     Many  good  morrows  to  your  majesty ! 

King.     Is  it  good  morrow,  lords  ? 

War.     'T  is  one  o'clock,  and  past. 

King.     Why,  then,  good  morrow  to  you  all,  my 

lords. 

Have  you  read  o'er  the  letters  that  I  sent  you  ? 
War.     We  have,  my  liege. 


56         KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [Acr  THKEE 

King.     Then   you    perceive    the   body   of    our 

kingdom 
How  foul  it  is ;  what  rank  diseases  grow, 

40  And  with  what  danger,  near  the  heart  of  it. 

War.     It  is  hut  as  a  body  yet  distemper'd ; 
Which  to  his  former  strength  may  be  restored 
With  good  advice  and  little  medicine  : 
My  Lord  Northumberland  will  soon  be  cool'd. 
King.     O  God  !  that  one  might  read  the  book  of 

fate, 

And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times 
Make  mountains  level,  and  the  continent, 
Weary  of  solid  firmness,  melt  itself 
Into  the  sea !  and,  other  times,  to  see 

so  The  beachy  girdle  of  the  ocean 
Too  wide  for  Neptune's  hips ;   how  chances  mock, 
And  changes  fill  the  cup  of  alteration 
With  divers  liquors !     O,  if  this  were  seen, 
The  happiest  youth,  viewing  his  progress  through, 
What  perils  past,  what  crosses  to  ensue, 
Would  shut  the  book,  and  sit  him  down  and  die. 
'T  is  not  ten  years  gone 

Since  Richard  and  Northumberland,  great  friends, 
Did  feast  together,  and  in  two  years  after 

oo  Were  they  at  wars  :   it  is  but  eight  years  since 
This  Percy  was  the  man  nearest  my  soul, 
Who  like  a  brother  toil'd  in  my  affairs 
And  laid  his  love  and  life  under  my  foot, 
Yea,  for  my  sake,  even  to  the  eyes  of  Richard 
Gave  him  defiance.     But  which  of  you  was  by  — 
You,  cousin  Nevil,  as  I  may  remember  — 

[To  Warwick. 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         57 

When  Richard,  with  his  eye  brimful  of  tears, 

Then  check'd  and  rated  by  Northumberland, 

Did  speak  these  words,  now  proved  a  prophecy  ? 

"Northumberland,  thou  ladder  by  the  which  70 

My  cousin  Bolingbroke  ascends  my  throne"; 

Though  then,  God  knows,  I  had  no  such  intent, 

But  that  necessity  so  bow'd  the  state 

That  I  and  greatness  were  compell'd  to  kiss : 

"The  time  shall  come,"  thus  did  he  follow  it, 

"  The  time  will  come,  that  foul  sin,  gathering  head, 

Shall  break  into  corruption"  :  so  went  on, 

Foretelling  this  same  time's  condition 

And  the  division  of  our  amity. 

War.     There  is  a  history  in  all  men's  lives,         so 
Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceased  ; 
The  which  observed,  a  man  may  prophesy, 
With  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  chance  of  things 
As  yet  not  come  to  life,  which  in  their  seeds 
And  weak  beginnings  lie  intreasured. 
Such  things  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time ; 
And  by  the  necessary  form  of  this 
King  Richard  might  create  a  perfect  guess 
That  great  Northumberland,  then  false  to  him, 
Would  of  that  seed  grow  to  a  greater  falseness ;     90 
Which  should  not  find  a  ground  to  root  upon, 
Unless  on  you. 

King.  Are  these  things  then  necessities  ? 

Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities : 
And  that  same  word  even  now  cries  out  on  us : 
They  say  the  bishop  and  Northumberland 
Are  fifty  thousand  strong. 

War.  It  cannot  be,  my  lord ; 


.58         KIMI   HENRY   THE   FOURTH    [Acr  THREE 

Rumour  doth  double,  like  the  voice  and  echo, 
The  numbers  of  the  fear'd.     Please  it  your  grace 
To  go  to  bed.     Upon  my  soul,  my  lord, 
100  The  powers  that  you  already  have  sent  forth 
Shall  bring  this  prize  in  very  easily. 
To  comfort  you  the  more,  I  have  received 
A  certain  instance  that  Glendower  is  dead. 
Your  majesty  hath  l>een  this  fortnight  ill, 
And  these  unseason'd  hours  perforce  must  add 
Unto  your  sickness. 

King.  I  will  take  your  counsel : 

And  were  these  inward  wars  once  out  of  hand, 
We  would,  dear  lords,  unto  the  Holy  Land. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  Gloucestershire.     Before  JUSTICE 
SHALLOW'S  house 

Enter  SHALLOW  and  SILENCE,  meeting;  MOULDY, 
SHADOW,  WART,  FEEBLE,  BULLCALF,  a  Servant  or 
two  with  tliem 

Shal.  Come  on,  come  on,  come  on,  sir;  give 
me  your  hand,  sir,  give  me  your  hand,  sir:  an 
early  stirrer,  by  the  rood !  And  how  doth  my 
good  cousin  Silence  ? 

Sil.     Good  morrow,  good  cousin  Shallow. 

Shal.  And  how  doth  my  cousin,  your  bed- 
fellow? and  your  fairest  daughter  and  mine,  my 
god-daughter  Ellen  ? 

Sil.     Alas,  a  black  ousel,  cousin  Shallow  ! 
10     Shal.     By   yea   and   nay,   sir,    I   dare   say   my 
cousin  William  is  become  a  good  scholar :    he  is 
at  Oxford  still,  is  he  not  ? 


SCENE  Two]     KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         59 

Sil.     Indeed,  sir,  to  my  cost. 

Shal.  A'  must,  then,  to  the  inns  o'  court  shortly. 
I  was  once  of  Clement's  Inn,  where  I  think  they 
will  talk  of  mad  Shallow  yet. 

Sil.  You  were  called  "lusty  Shallow"  then, 
cousin. 

Shal.  By  the  mass,  I  was  called  any  thing; 
and  I  would  have  done  any  thing  indeed  too,  and  20 
roundly  too.  There  was  I,  and  little  John  Doit 
of  Staffordshire,  and  black  George  Barnes,  and 
Francis  Pickbone,  and  Will  Squele,  a  Cotswold 
man;  you  had  not  four  such  swinge-bucklers*  in 
all  the  inns  o'  court  again :  and  I  may  say  to  you, 
we  knew  where  the  bona-robas  were  and  had  the 
best  of  them  all  at  commandment.  Then  was 
Jack  Falstaff,  now  Sir  John,  a  boy,  and  page  to 
Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Sil.     This  Sir  John,  cousin,  that  comes  hither  30 
anon  about  soldiers  ? 

Shal.  The  same  Sir  John,  the  very  same.  I 
see  him  break  Skogan's  head  at  the  court-gate, 
when  a'  was  a  crack  not  thus  high :  and  the  very 
same  day  did  I  fight  with  one  Sampson  Stockfish, 
a  fruiterer,  behind  Gray's  Inn.  Jesu,  Jesu,  the 
mad  days  that  I  have  spent !  and  to  see  how  many 
of  my  old  acquaintance  are  dead ! 

Sil.     We  shall  all  follow,  cousin. 

Shal.     Certain,  't  is   certain;    very   sure,    very4o 
sure :    death,  as  the  Psalmist  saith,  is  certain  to 
all;    all  shall  die.     How  a  good  yoke  of  bullocks 
at  Stamford  fair  ? 

Sil.     By  my  troth,  I  was  not  there. 


60         KIN(i    HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  TIIKEE 

•S7i«/.  Death  is  certain.  Is  old  Double  of  your 
town  living  yet? 

Sil.     Dead,  sir. 

Shal.  Jesu,  Jesu,  dead !  a*  drew  a  good  bow ; 
and  dead !  a'  shot  a  fine  shoot :  John  a  Gaunt 
.r>o  loved  him  well,  and  betted  much  money  on  his 
head.  Dead !  a'  would  have  clapped  i'  the  clout 
at  twelve  score;  and  carried  you  a  forehand  shaft 
a  fourteen  and  fourteen  and  a  half,  that  it  would 
have  done  a  man's  heart  good  to  see.  How  a 
score  of  ewes  now  ? 

Sil.  Thereafter  as  they  be :  a  score  of  good 
ewes  may  be  worth  ten  pounds. 

Shal.     And  is  old  Double  dead  ? 

Sil.  Here  come  two  of  Sir  John  Falstaff's 
eo  men,  as  I  think. 

Enter  BARDOLPH  and  one  with  him 

Bard.  Good  morrow,  honest  gentlemen :  I 
beseech  you,  which  is  Justice  Shallow? 

Shal.  I  am  Robert  Shallow,  sir ;  a  poor  esquire 
of  this  county,  and  one  of  the  king's  justices  of  the 
peace  :  what  is  your  good  pleasure  with  me? 

Bard.  My  captain,  sir,  commends  him  to  you; 
my  captain,  Sir  John  Falstaff,  a  tall  gentleman, 
by  heaven,  and  a  most  gallant  leader. 

Shal.  He  greets  me  well,  sir.  I  knew  him  a 
70  good  backsword  man.  How  doth  the  good  knight  ? 
may  I  ask  how  my  lady  his  wife  doth? 

Bard.  Sir,  pardon;  a  soldier  is  better  accom- 
modated than  with  a  wife. 

Shal.     It  is  well  said,  in  faith,  sir;    and  it  is 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         61 

well  said  indeed  too.  Better  accommodated !  it 
is  good;  yea,  indeed,  is  it:  good  phrases  are 
surely,  and  ever  were,  very  commendable.  Ac- 
commodated !  it  comes  of  "  accommodo " :  very 
good;  a  good  phrase. 

Bard.  Pardon  me,  sir ;  I  have  heard  the  word,  so 
Phrase  call  you  it?  by  this  good  day,  I  know  not 
the  phrase;  but  I  will  maintain  the  word  with 
my  sword  to  be  a  soldier-like  word,  and  a  word 
of  exceeding  good  command,  by  heaven.  Ac- 
commodated ;  that  is,  when  a  man  is,  as  they  say, 
accommodated ;  or  when  a  man  is,  being,  where- 
by a'  may  be  thought  to  be  accommodated ;  which 
is  an  excellent  thing. 

Shed.     It  is  very  just. 

Enter  FALSTAFF 

Look,  here  comes  good  Sir  John.     Give  me  your  90 
good  hand,  give  me  your  worship's  good  hand : 
by  my  troth,  you  like  well  and  bear  your  years 
very  well :   welcome,  good  Sir  John. 

Fal.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well,  good  Master 
Robert  Shallow:  Master  Surecard,  as  I  think? 

Shal.  No,  Sir  John;  it  is  my  cousin  Silence, 
in  commission  with  me. 

Fal.  Good  Master  Silence,  it  well  befits  you 
should  be  of  the  peace. 

Sil.     Your  good  worship  is  welcome.  100 

Fal.  Fie !  this  is  hot  weather,  gentlemen. 
Have  you  provided  me  here  half  a  dozen  sufficient 
men? 

ShaL     Marry,  have  we,  sir.     Will  you  sit  ? 


6*         KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [An- THBEE 

Fal.     Let  me  see  them,  I  beseech  you. 

Shal.  Where 's  the  roll  ?  where 's  the  roll  ? 
where  's  the  roll  ?  I>et  me  see,  let  me  see,  let  me 
see.  So,  so,  so,  so,  so,  so,  so :  yea,  marry,  sir : 
Ralph  Mouldy!  Let  them  appear  as  I  call;  let 
no  them  do  so,  let  them  do  so.  Let  me  see;  where 
is  Mouldy  ? 

Moul.     Here,  an  't  please  you. 

Shal.  What  think  you,  Sir  John  ?  a  good- 
limbed  fellow ;  young,  strong,  and  of  good  friends. 

Fal.     Is  thy  name  Mouldy  ? 

Afoul.     Yea,  an  't  please  you. 

Fal.     'T  is  the  more  time  thou  wert  used. 

Shal.     Ha,    ha,    ha !    most    excellent,    i'    faith ! 

things  that  are  mouldy  lack  use :    very  singular 

120 good!  in  faith,  well  said,  Sir  John,  very  well  said. 

Fal.     Prick  him. 

Moid.  I  was  pricked  well  enough  before,  an 
you  could  have  let  me  alone :  my  old  dame  will 
be  undone  now  for  one  to  do  her  husbandry  and 
her  drudgery  :  you  need  not  to  have  pricked  me ; 
there  are  other  men  fitter  to  go  out  than  I. 

Fal.  Go  to :  peace,  Mouldy ;  you  shall  go. 
Mouldy,  it  is  time  you  were  spent. 

Moid.     Spent ! 

130  Shal.  Peace,  fellow,  peace ;  stand  aside  :  know 
you  where  you  are  ?  For  the  other,  Sir  John  :  let 
me  see  :  Simon  Shadow  ! 

Fal.  Yea,  marry,  let  me  have  him  to  sit  under : 
he  's  like  to  be  a  cold  soldier. 

Shal.     Where  's  Shadow  ? 

Shad.     Here,  sir. 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        63 

Fal.     Shadow,  whose  son  art  thou? 

Shad.     My  mother's  son,  sir. 

Fal.     Thy  mother's  son !  like  enough,  and  thy 
father's  shadow :    so  the  son  of  the  female  is  the  HO 
shadow  of  the  male :    it  is  often  so,  indeed ;    but 
much  of  the  father's  substance ! 

Shal.     Do  you  like  him,  Sir  John  ? 

Fal.  Shadow  will  serve  for  summer;  prick 
him,  for  we  have  a  number  of  shadows  to  fill  up 
the  muster-book. 

Shal.     Thomas  Wart ! 

Fal.     Where 's  he  ? 

Wart.     Here,  sir. 

Fal.     Is  thy  name  Wart  ?  iso 

Wart.     Yea,  sir. 

Fal.     Thou  art  a  very  ragged  wart. 

Shal.     Shall  I  prick  him  down,  Sir  John  ? 

Fal.  It  were  superfluous;  for  his  apparel  is 
built  upon  his  back  and  the  whole  frame  stands  upon 
pins  :  prick  him  no  more. 

Shal.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  you  can  do  it,  sir :  you  can 
do  it :  I  commend  you  well.  Francis  Feeble  ! 

Fee.     Here,  sir. 

Fal.     What  trade  art  thou,  Feeble  ?  IGO 

Fee.     A  woman's  tailor,  sir. 

Shal.     Shall  I  prick  him,  sir  ? 

Fal.  You  may :  but  if  he  had  been  a  man's 
tailor,  he  'Id  ha'  pricked  you.  Wilt  thou  make  as 
many  holes  in  an  enemy's  battle  as  thou  hast  done 
in  a  woman's  petticoat? 

Fee.  I  will  do  my  good  will,  sir :  you  can  have 
no  more. 


64         KING    HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  THHEE 

Fal.     Well  said,  good  woman's  tailor !  well  said, 

170 courageous  Feeble!  thou  wilt  be  as  valiant  as  the 

wrathful  dove  or  most  magnanimous  mouse.     Prick 

the  woman's  tailor  well,   Master  Shallow ;    deep, 

Master  Shallow. 

Fee.     I  would  Wart  might  have  gone,  sir. 

Fal.  I  would  thou  wert  a  man's  tailor,  that 
thou  mightst  mend  him  and  make  him  fit  to  go. 
I  cannot  put  him  to  a  private  soldier  that  is  the 
leader  of  so  many  thousands :  let  that  suffice, 
most  forcible  Feeble. 
180  Fee.  It  shall  suffice,  sir. 

Fal.  I  am  bound  to  thee,  reverend  Feeble. 
Who  is  next  ? 

Shal.     Peter  Bullcalf  o'  the  green  ! 

Fal.     Yea,  marry,  let 's  see  Bullcalf. 

Bull.     Here,  sir. 

Fal.  Tore  God,  a  likely  fellow!  Come, 
prick  me  Bullcalf  till  he  roar  again. 

Bull.     O  Ix>rd  !  good  my  lord  captain,  — 

Fal.     What,    dost    thou    roar    before    thou   art 
loo  pricked  ? 

Bull.     O  Ixjrd,  sir !  I  am  a  diseased  man. 

Fal.     What  disease  hast  thou  ?    • 

Bull.  A  whoreson  cold,  sir,  a  cough,  sir,  which 
I  caught  with  ringing  in  the  king's  affairs  upon 
his  coronation-day,  sir. 

Fal.     Come,   thou   shalt   go  to   the  wars  in   a 

gown ;    we  will  have  away  thy  cold ;    and  I  will 

take  such  order  that  thy  friends  shall  ring  for  thee. 

Is  here  all  ? 

200      iSAa/      Here    is    two    more    called    than    your 


SCENE  Two]    KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH         6.5 

number ;    you  must  have  but  four  here,  sir :    and 
so,  I  pray  you,  go  in  with  me  to  dinner. 

Fal.  Come,  I  will  go  drink  with  you,  but  1 
cannot  tarry  dinner.  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  by 
my  troth,  Master  Shallow. 

Shal.  O,  Sir  John,  do  you  remember  since  we 
lay  all  night  in  the  windmill  in  Saint  George's  field  ? 

Fal.  No  more  of  that,  good  Master  Shallow, 
no  more  of  that. 

Shal.     Ha  !  't  was  a  merry  night.     And  is  Jane  210 
Nightwork  alive  ? 

Fal.     She  lives,  Master  Shallow. 

Shal.     She  never  could  away  with  me. 

Fal.  Never,  never;  she  would  always  say 
she  could  not  abide  Master  Shallow. 

Shal.  By  the  mass,  I  could  anger  her  to  the 
heart.  She  was  then  a  bona-roba.  Doth  she 
hold  her  own  well  ? 

Fal.     Old,  old,  Master  Shallow. 

Shal.     Nay,    she    must    be    old;     she    cannot 220 
choose  but  be  old ;    certain  she  's  old ;    and  had 
Robin    Nightwork    by    old    Nightwork    before    I 
came  to  Clement's  Inn. 

Sil.     That  's  fifty  five  year  ago. 

Shal.  Ha,  cousin  Silence,  that  thou  hadst  seen 
that  that  this  knight  and  I  have  seen !  Ha, 
Sir  John,  said  I  well  ? 

Fal.  We  have  heard  the  chimes  at  midnight, 
Master  Shallow. 

Shal.     That  we  have,  that  we  have,  that  we  230 
have ;    in  faith,  Sir  John,  we  have :    our  watch- 
word was  "Hem  boys\"     Come,  let  's  to  dinner; 


66         KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  THKEB 

come,  let  's  to  dinner:    Jesus,  the  days  that  we 
have  seen  !     Come,  come. 

[Exeunt  Falstaff  and  the  Justices. 

Bull.  Good  Master  Corporate  Bardolph,  stand 
my  friend;  and  here  's  four  Harry  ten  shillings 
in  French  crowns  for  you.  In  very  truth,  sir,  I 
had  as  lief  be  hanged,  sir,  as  go :  and  yet,  for 
mine  own  part,  sir,  I  do  not  care;  but  rather, 
240  because  I  am  unwilling,  and,  for  mine  own  part, 
have  a  desire  to  stay  with  my  friends;  else,  sir, 
I  did  not  care,  for  mine  own  part,  so  much. 

Bard.     Go  to ;  stand  aside. 

Moid.  And,  good  master  corporal  captain,  for 
my  old  dame's  sake,  stand  my  friend :  she  has 
nobody  to  do  any  thing  about  her  when  I  am 
gone;  and  she  is  old,  and  cannot  help  herself: 
you  shall  have  forty,  sir. 

Bard.     Go  to;    stand  aside. 

250  Fee.  By  my  troth,  I  care  not;  a  man  can  die 
but  once :  we  owe  God  a  death :  I  '11  ne'er  bear  a 
base  mind  :  an  't  be  my  destiny,  so ;  an  't  be  not, 
so :  no  man  is  too  good  to  serve  's  prince ;  and 
let  it  go  which  way  it  will,  he  that  dies  this  year 
is  quit  for  the  next. 

Bard.     Well  said  ;  thou  'rt  a  good  fellow. 

Fee.     Faith,  I  '11  bear  no  base  mind. 

Re-enter  FALSTAFF  and  tht  Justices 

Fal.     Come,  sir,  which  men  shall  I  have? 
Shal.     Four  of  which  you  please. 
200      Bard.     Sir,   a   word   with   you :     I   have   three 
pound  to  free  Mouldy  and  Bullcalf. 


SCENE  Two]    KING   HENRY   THE  FOURTH         67 

Fal.     Go  to ;  well. 

Shal.     Come,  Sir  John,  which  four  will  you  have  ? 

Fal.     Do  you  choose  for  me. 

Shal.  Marry,  then,  Mouldy,  Bullcalf,  Feeble 
and  Shadow. 

Fal.     Mouldy  and  Bullcalf:    for  you,  Mouldy, 
stay  at  home  till  you  are  past  service :    and  for 
your  part,  Bullcalf,  grow  till  you  come  unto  it: 270 
I  will  none  of  you. 

Shal.  Sir  John,  Sir  John,  do  not  yourself 
wrong :  they  are  your  likeliest  men,  and  I  would 
have  you  served  with  the  best. 

Fal.  Will  you  tell  me,  Master  Shallow,  how 
to  choose  a  man  ?  Care  I  for  the  limb,  the  thewes, 
the  stature,  bulk,  and  big  assemblance  of  a  man ! 
Give  me  the  spirit,  Master  Shallow.  Here 's 
Wart ;  you  see  what  a  ragged  appearance  it  is : 
a'  shall  charge  you  and  discharge  you  with  the28o 
motion  of  a  pewterer's  hammer,  come  off  and  on 
swifter  than  he  that  gibbets  on  the  brewer's 
bucket.  And  this  same  half-faced  fellow,  Sha- 
dow ;  give  me  this  man :  he  presents  no  mark  to 
the  enemy ;  the  foeman  may  with  as  great  aim 
level  at  the  edge  of  a  penknife.  And  for  a  re- 
treat; how  swiftly  will  this  Feeble  the  woman's 
tailor  run  off !  O,  give  me  the  spare  men,  and 
spare  me  the  great  ones.  Put  me  a  caliver  into 
Wart's  hand,  Bardolph.  200 

Bard.     Hold,  Wart,  traverse;    thus,  thus,  thus. 

Fal.  Come,  manage  me  your  caliver.  So : 
very  well :  go  to :  very  good,  exceeding  good. 
O,  give  me  always  a  little,  lean,  old,  chapt,  bald 


08          KIX<;    HKNRY    THE    FOIHTH     [Arr  THHEE 

shot.  Well  said,  i'  faith,  Wart;  thou 'rt  a  poor! 
scab :  hold,  there  's  a  tester  for  thee. 

Shal.  He  is  not  his  craft's  master;  he  doth 
not  do  it  right.  I  remember  at  Mile-end  Green, 
when  I  lay  at  Clement's  Inn,  —  I  was  then  Sir 
soo  Dagonet  in  Arthur's  show,  —  there  was  a  little 
quiver  fellow,  and  a'  would  manage  you  his  piece 
thus;  and  a'  would  about  and  about,  and  come 
you  in  and  come  you  in:  "rah,  tah,  tah,"  would 
a'  say;  "bounce"  would  a'  say;  and  away  again 
would  a'  go,  and  again  would  a'  come :  I  shall 
ne'er  see  such  a  fellow. 

Fed.  These  fellows  will  do  well,  Master  Shal- 
low. God  keep  you,  Master  Silence :  I  will  not 
use  many  words  with  you.  Fare  you  well,  gen- 
310  tlemen  both  :  I  thank  you  :  I  must  a  dozen  mile 
to-night.  Bardolph,  give  the  soldiers  coats. 

Shal.  Sir  John,  the  Lord  bless  you !  God 
prosper  your  affairs !  God  send  us  peace !  At 
your  return  visit  our  house;  let  our  old  acquaint- 
ance be  renewed :  peradventure  I  will  with  ye  to 
the  court. 

Fal.  'Fore  God,  I  would  you  would,  Master 
Shallow. 

Shal.  Go  to;  I  have  spoke  at  a  word.  God 
320  keep  you. 

Fal.  Fare  you  well,  gentle  gentlemen.  [Exeunt 
Justices.}  On,  Bardolph ;  lead  the  men  away. 
[Exeunt  Bardolph,  Recruits,  etc.]  As  I  return, 
I  will  fetch  off  these  justices :  I  do  see  the  bottom 
of  Justice  Shallow.  Lord,  Lord,  how  subject  we 
old  men  are  to  this  vice  of  lying !  This  same 


SCENE  Two]    KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH         69 

starved  justice  hath  done  nothing  but  prate  to  me 
of  the  wildness  of  his  youth,  and  the  feats  he 
hath  done  about  Turnbull  Street ;  and  every 
third  word  a  lie,  duer  paid  to  the  hearer  than  the  330 
Turk's  tribute.  I  do  remember  him  at  Clement's 
Inn  like  a  man  made  after  supper  of  a  cheese- 
paring :  when  a'  was  naked,  he  was,  for  all  the 
world,  like  a  forked  radish,  with  a  head  fantas- 
tically carved  upon  it  with  a  knife :  a'  was  so  for- 
lorn, that  his  dimensions  to  any  thick  sight  were 
invincible :  a'  was  the  very  genius  of  famine ;  yet 
lecherous  as  a  monkey,  and  the  whores  called 
him  mandrake :  a'  came  ever  in  the  rearward  of 
the  fashion,  and  sung  those  tunes  to  the  over-  340 
scutched  huswives  that  he  heard  the  carmen 
whistle,  and  sware  they  were  his  fancies  or  his 
good-nights.  And  now  is  this  Vice's  dagger  be- 
come a  squire^  and  talks  as  familiarly  of  John  a 
Gaunt  as  if  he  had  been  sworn  brother  to  him ; 
and  I  '11  be  sworn  a'  ne'er  saw  him  but  once  in  the 
Tilt-yard ;  and  then  he  burst  his  head  for  crowd- 
ing among  the  marshal's  men.  I  saw  it,  and  told 
John  a  Gaunt  he  beat  his  own  name;  for  you 
might  have  thrust  him  and  all  his  apparel  into  an  350 
eel -skin ;  the  case  of  a  treble  hautboy  was  a  man- 
sion for  him,  a  court :  and  now  has  he  land  and 
beefs.  Well,  I  '11  be  acquainted  with  him,  if  I 
return;  and  it  shall  go  hard  but  I  will  make  him 
a  philosopher's  two  stones  to  me :  if  the  young 
dace  be  a  bait  for  the  old  pike,  I  see  no  reason  in 
the  law  of  nature  but  I  may  snap  at  him.  Let 
time  shape,  and  there  an  end.  [Exit. 


70  KING  HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [ACT  FOUR 

ACT  IV 

SCENE  I  —  Yorkshire.     GauUree  Forest 

Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP  OF  YORK,  MOWBRAY, 
HASTINGS,  and  others 

Arch.     What  is  this  forest  call'cl  ? 

Hast.     'T  is  Gaultree  Forest,  an  't   shall  please 
your  grace. 

Arch.     Here   stand,   my   lords;    and   send   dis- 
coverers forth 
To  know  the  numbers  of  our  enemies. 

Hast.     We  have  sent  forth  already. 

A  rch.  'T  is  well  done. 

My  friends  and  brethren  in  these  great  affairs, 
I  must  acquaint  you  that  I  have  received 
New-dated  letters  from  Northumberland ; 
Their  cold  intent,  tenour  and  substance,  thus : 
10  Here  doth  he  wish  his  person,  with  such  powers 
As  might  hold  sortance  with  his  quality, 
The  which  he  could  not  levy ;   whereupon 
He  is  retired,  to  ripe  his  growing  fortunes, 
To  Scotland  :  and  concludes  in  hearty  prayers 
That  your  attempts  may  overlive  the  hazard 
And  fearful  meeting  of  their  opposite. 

Mowb.     Thus  do  the  hopes  we  have  in  him  touch 

ground 
And  dash  themselves  to  pieces. 

Enter  a  Messenger 

Hast.  Now,  what  news  ? 

Mesa.     West  of  this  forest,  scarcely  off  a  mile, 
20  In  goodly  form  comes  on  the  enemy ; 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         71 

And,  by  the  ground  they  hide,  I  judge  their  number 
Upon  or  near  the  rate  of  thirty  thousand. 

Mowb.     The  just  proportion  that  we  gave  them 

out. 
Let  us  sway  on  and  face  them  in  the  field. 

Arch.     What    well-appointed    leader    fronts    us 
here? 

Enter  WESTMORELAND 

Mowb.     I  think  it  is  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

West .     Health  and  fair  greeting  from  our  general, 
The  prince,  Lord  John  and  Duke  of  Lancaster. 

Arch.     Say  on,  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland,  in 

peace : 
What  doth  concern  your  coming  ? 

West.  Then,  my  lord,  30 

Unto  your  grace  do  I  in  chief  address 
The  substance  of  my  speech.     If  that  rebellion 
Came  like  itself,  in  base  and  abject  routs, 
Led  on  by  bloody  youth,  guarded  with  rags, 
And  countenanced  by  boys  and  beggary, 
I  say,  if  damn'd  commotion  so  appear'd, 
In  his  true,  native  and  most  proper  shape, 
You,  reverend  father,  and  these  noble  lords 
Had  not  been  here,  to  dress  the  ugly  form 
Of  base  and  bloody  insurrection  40 

With  your  fair  honours.     You,  lord  archbishop, 
Whose  see  is  by  a  civil  peace  maintain'd, 
Whose  beard  the  silver  hand  of  peace  hath  touch'd, 
Whose    learning    and    good    letters    peace    hath 

tutor'd, 
Whose  white  investments  figure  innocence. 


7S  KlXli    HENRY   THE    FtU'RTII     [A»-r  For* 

The  dove  and  very  blessed  spirit  of  peace, 
Wherefore  do  you  so  ill  translate  yourself 
Out  of  the  speech  of  peace  that  bears  such  grace. 
Into  the  harsh  and  l>oisterous  tongue  of  war; 

so  Turning  your  books  to  graves,  your  ink  to  blood. 
Your  pens  to  lances  and  your  tongue  divine 
To  a  loud  truni|>et  and  a  point  of  war? 

Arch.     Wherefore   do   I    this?   so   the  question 

stands. 

Briefly  to  this  end  :  we  are  all  diseased. 
And  with  our  surfeiting  and  wanton  hours 
Have  brought  ourselves  into  a  burning  fever. 
And  we  must  bleed  for  it ;   of  which  disease 
Our  late  king.  Richard,  IxMng  infected,  died. 
But,  my  most  noble  Ix>rd  of  Westmoreland, 

fio  I  take  not  on  me  here  as  a  physician. 
Nor  do  I  as  an  enemy  to  |>eace 
Troop  in  the  throngs  of  military  men ; 
But  rather  show  awhile  like  fearful  war. 
To  diet  rank  minds  sick  of  happiness 
And  purge  the  obstructions  which  begin  to  stop 
Our  very  veins  of  life.     Hear  me  more  plainly. 
I  have  in  equal  balance  justly  weigh'd 
What  wrongs  our  arms  may  do.  what  wrongs  w« 

suffer, 
And  find  our  griefs  heavier  than  our  offences. 

TO  We  see  which  way  the  stream  of  time  doth  run. 
And  are  enforced  from  our  most  quiet  there 
By  the  rough  torrent  of  occasion ; 
And  have  the  summary  of  all  our  griefs. 
When  time  shall  serve,  to  show  in  articles; 
Which  long  ere  this  we  offer'd  to  the.  king. 


EXVG  BEXRY  THE  HNMHI 

A:  •_   v    ,  -         _•     : 


:•:.  -: 


I 


J     '      -      1         --;;--:  ;•     -  T 


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hat  fiedl  lir  braises  «f 


74  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FOUB 

And  not  the  king,  that  doth  you  injuries. 
Yet  for  your  part,  it  not  appears  to  me 
Either  from  the  king  or  in  the  present  time 
That  you  should  have  an  inch  of  any  ground 

no  To  build  a  grief  on  :  were  you  not  restored 
To  all  the  Duke  of  Norfolk's  signories, 
Your  noble  and  right  well  remember'd  father's? 
Mowb.     What  thing,  in  honour,  had  ray  father 

lost, 

That  need  to  be  revived  and  breathed  in  me  ? 
The  king  that  loved  him,  as  the  state  stood  then, 
Was  force  perforce  compell'd  to  banish  him  : 
And  then  that  Henry  Bolingbroke  and  he, 
Being  mounted  and  both  roused  in  their  seats, 
Their  neighing  coursers  daring  of  the  spur, 

120  Their  armed  staves  in  charge,  their  beavers  down. 
Their  eyes  of  fire  sparkling  through  sights  of  steel 
And  the  loud  trumpet  blowing  them  together, 
Then,  then,  when  there  was  nothing  could  have 

stay'd 

My  father  from  the  breast  of  Bolingbroke, 
O,  when  the  king  did  throw  his  warder  down, 
His  own  life  hung  upon  the  staff  he  threw ; 
Then  threw  he  down  himself  and  all  their  lives 
That  by  indictment  and  by  dint  of  sword 
Have  since  miscarried  under  Bolingbroke. 

130      West.     You   speak,    Lord   Mowbray,    now   you 

know  not  what. 

The  Earl  of  Hereford  was  reputed  then 
In  England  the  most  valiant  gentleman : 
Who  knows  on  whom  fortune  would  then  have 
smiled  ? 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH         75 

But  if  your  father  had  been  victor  there, 

He  ne'er  had  borne  it  out  of  Coventry  : 

For  all  the  country  in  a  general  voice 

Cried  hate  upon  him;    and  all  their  prayers  and 

love 

Were  set  on  Hereford,  whom  they  doted  on 
And  bless'd  and  graced   indeed,   more  than   the 

king. 

But  this  is  mere  digression  from  my  purpose.  140 

Here  come  I  from  our  princely  general 
To  know  your  griefs ;   to  tell  you  from  his  grace 
That  he  will  give  you  audience;   and  wherein 
It  shall  appear  that  your  demands  are  just, 
You  shall  enjoy  them,  every  thing  set  off 
That  might  so  much  as  think  you  enemies. 

Mowb.     But  he  hath  forced  us  to  compel  this 

offer; 
And  it  proceeds  from  policy,  not  love. 

West.     Mowbray,  you  over  ween  to  take  it  so ; 
This  offer  comes  from  mercy,  not  from  fear :  150 

For,  lo !  within  a  ken  our  army  lies, 
Upon  mine  honour,  all  too  confident 
To  give  admittance  to  a  thought  of  fear. 
Our  battle  is  more  full  of  names  than  yours, 
Our  men  more  perfect  in  the  use  of  arms, 
Our  armour  all  as  strong,  our  cause  the  best ; 
Then  reason  will  our  hearts  should  be  as  good  : 
Say  you  not  then  our  offer  is  compell'd. 

Mowb.     Well,   by  my  will  we  shall  admit  no 

parley. 
West.     That    argues   but    the    shame    of   your 

offence :  ieo 


70           KING   HENRY  THE  FOIRTH    [ACT  Foc« 

A  rotten  case  abides  no  handling. 

Hast.     Hath  the  Prince  John  a  full  commission, 
In  very  ample  virtue  of  his  father, 
To  hear  and  absolutely  to  determine 
Of  what  conditions  we  shall  stand  upon  ? 

West.     That  is  intended  in  the  general's  name: 
I  muse  you  make  so  slight  a  question. 

Arch.     Then  take,  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland, 

this  schedule, 

For  this  contains  our  general  grievances : 
170  Each  several  article  herein  redress'd, 

All  members  of  our  cause,  both  here  and  hence, 

That  are  insinew'd  to  this  action, 

Acquitted  by  a  true  substantial  form 

And  present  execution  of  our  wills 

To  us  and  to  our  purposes  confined, 

We  come  within  our  awful  banks  again 

And  knit  our  powers  to  the  arm  of  peace. 

West.     This   will   I   show   the   general.     Please 

you,  lords, 

In  sight  of  both  our  battles  we  may  meet ; 
iso  And  either  end  in  peace,  which  God  so  frame ! 
Or  to  the  place  of  difference  call  the  swords 
Which  must  decide  it. 

Arch.  My  lord,  we  will  do  so.      [Exit  West. 

Afowb.     There  is  a  thing  within  my  bosom  tells 

me 
That  no  conditions  of  our  peace  can  stand. 

Hast.     Fear  you  not  that :    if  we  can  make  our 

peace 

Upon  such  large  terms  and  so  absolute 
As  our  conditions  shall  consist  upon, 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY   THE  FOURTH         77 

Our  peace  shall  stand  as  firm  as  rocky  mountains. 

Mowb.     Yea,  but  our  valuation  shall  be  such 
That  every  slight  and  false-derived  cause,  190 

Yea,  every  idle,  nice  and  wanton  reason 
Shall  to  the  king  taste  of  this  action ; 
That,  were  our  royal  faiths  martyrs  in  love, 
We  shall  be  winnow'd  with  so  rough  a  wind 
That  even  our  corn  shall  seem  as  light  as  chaff 
And  good  from  bad  find  no  partition. 

Arch.     No,  no,  my  lord.     Note  this;    the  king 

is  weary 

Of  dainty  and  such  picking  grievances  : 
For  he  hath  found  to  end  one  doubt  by  death 
Revives  two  greater  in  the  heirs  of  life,  200 

And  therefore  will  he  wipe  his  tables  clean 
And  keep  no  tell-tale  to  his  memory 
That  may  repeat  and  history  his  loss 
To  new  remembrance ;   for  full  well  he  knows 
He  cannot  so  precisely  weed  this  land 
As  his  misdoubts  present  occasion  : 
His  foes  are  so  enrooted  with  his  friends 
That,  plucking  to  unfix  an  enemy, 
He  doth  unfasten  so  and  shake  a  friend : 
So  that  this  land,  like  an  offensive  wife  210 

That  hath  enraged  him  on  to  offer  strokes, 
As  he  is  striking,  holds  his  infant  up 
And  hangs  resolved  correction  in  the  arm 
That  was  uprear'd  to  execution. 

Hast.     Besides,    the   king  hath   wasted   all   his 

rods 

On  late  offenders,  that  he  now  doth  lack 
The  very  instruments  of  chastisement : 


78           KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     [ACT  FOUB 

So  that  his  power,  like  to  a  fangless  lion, 
May  offer,  but  not  hold. 

Arch.  'T  is  very  true  : 

220  And  therefore  be  assured,  my  good  lord  marshal, 
If  we  do  now  make  our  atonement  well. 
Our  peace  will,  like  a  broken  limb  united, 
Grow  stronger  for  the  breaking. 

Mowb.  Be  it  so. 

Here  is  return'd  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 

Re-enter  WESTMORELAND 

West.     The  prince   is  here  at   hand :    pleaseth 

your  lordship 

To  meet  his  grace  just  distance  'tween  our  armies. 

Mowb.     Your  grace  of  York,   in   God's  name, 

then,  set  forward. 
Arch.     Before,  and  greet  his  grace :    my  lord, 

we  come.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II  —  Another  part  of  the  forest 

Enter,  from  one  side,   MOWBRAY,   attended;    afterwar 
the    ARCHBISHOP,    HASTINGS,    and    others :    from 
other     side,     PRINCE     JOHN     OF     LANCASTER, 
WESTMORELAND;    Officers,  and  others  trith  them 

Lan.     You  are  well  encounter'd  here,  my  cousin 

Mowbray  : 

Good  day  to  you,  gentle  lord  archbishop ; 
And  so  to  you,  Lord  Hastings,  and  to  all. 
My  Lord  of  York,  it  better  show'd  with  you 
When  that  your  flock,  assembled  by  the  bell, 
Encircled  you  to  hear  with  reverence 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        79 

Your  exposition  on  the  holy  text 

Than  now  to  see  you  here  an  iron  man, 

Cheering  a  rout  of  rebels  with  your  drum, 

Turning  the  word  to  sword  and  life  to  death.  10 

That  man  that  sits  within  a  monarch's  heart, 

And  ripens  in  the  sunshine  of  his  favour, 

Would  he  abuse  the  countenance  of  the  king, 

Alack,  what  mischiefs  might  he  set  abroach 

In   shadow   of   such   greatness !     With  you,   lord 

bishop, 

It  is  even  so.     Who  hath  not  heard  it  spoken 
How  deep  you  were  within  the  books  of  God? 
To  us  the  speaker  in  his  parliament ; 
To  us  the  imagined  voice  of  God  himself ; 
The  very  opener  and  intelligencer  20 

Between  the  grace,  the  sanctities  of  heaven 
And  our  dull  workings.     O,  who  shall  believe 
But  you  misuse  the  reverence  of  your  place, 
Employ  the  countenance  and  grace  of  heaven, 
As  a  false  favourite  doth  his  prince's  name, 
In  deeds  dishonourable  ?     You  have  ta'en  up, 
Under  the  counterfeited  zeal  of  God, 
The  subjects  of  his  substitute,  my  father, 
And  both  against  the  peace  -of  heaven  and  him 
Have  here  up-swarm'd  them. 

Arch.  .  Good  my  Lord  of  Lancaster,  30 

I  am  not  here  against  your  father's  peace ; 
But,  as  I  told  my  Lord  of  Westmoreland, 
The  time  misorder'd  doth,  in  common  sense, 
Crowd  us  and  crush  us  to  this  monstrous  form, 
To  hold  our  safety  up.     I  sent  your  grace 
The  parcels  and  particulars  of  our  grief, 


80  KIN(i    1IKNRV   THE   FOIRTII     [ACT  FOUR 

The  which  hath  been  with  scorn  shoved  from  the 

court, 

Whereon  this  Hydra  son  of  war  is  born ; 
Whose    dangerous    eyes    may    well    be    charm'd 

asleep 

40  With  grant  of  our  most  just  and  right  desires, 
And  true  obedience,  of  this  madness  cured, 
Stoop  tamely  to  the  foot  of  majesty. 

Moicb.     If  not,  we  ready  are  to  try  our  fortunes 
To  the  last  man. 

Hast.     And  though  we  here  fall  down, 
We  have  supplies  to  second  our  attempt : 
If  they  miscarry,  theirs  shall  second  them ; 
And  so  success  of  mischief  shall  be  born 
And  heir  from  heir  shall  hold  this  quarrel  up 
Whiles  England  shall  have  generation. 
so     Lan.     You    are    too    shallow,    Hastings,    much 

too  shallow, 
To  sound  the  bottom  of  the  after-times. 

West.     Pleaseth    your    grace    to    answer    them 

directly 
How  far  forth  you  do  like  their  articles. 

Lan.     I  like  them  all,  and  do  allow  them  well, 
And  swear  here,  by  the  honour  of  my  blood, 
My  father's  purposes  have  been  mistook, 
And  some  about  him  have  too  lavishly 
Wrested  his  meaning  and  authority. 
My  lord,  these  griefs  shall  be  with  speed  redress'd; 
eo  Upon   my   soul,   they   shall.     If   this   may  please 

you, 

Discharge  your  powers  unto  their  several  counties, 
As  we  will  ours :  and  here  between  the  armies 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        81 

Let  's  drink  together  friendly  and  embrace, 
That  all  their  eyes  may  bear  those  tokens  home 
Of  our  restored  love  and  amity. 

Arch.     I    take    your    princely    word    for    these 

redresses. 

Lan.     I  give  it  you,  and  will  maintain  my  word : 
And  thereupon  I  drink  unto  your  grace. 

Hast.     Go,  captain,  and  deliver  to  the  army 
This  news  of  peace  :  let  them  have  pay,  and  part :  ?o 
I    know    it    will    well    please    them.     Hie    thee, 
captain.  [Exit  Officer. 

Arch.     To  you,  my  noble  Lord  of  Westmoreland. 
West.     I  pledge  your  grace;    and,  if  you  knew 

what  pains 

I  have  bestow'd  to  breed  this  present  peace, 
You  would  drink  freely  :  but  my  love  to  ye 
Shall  show  itself  more  openly  hereafter. 
Arch.     I  do  not  doubt  you. 
West.  I  am  glad  of  it. 

Health  to  my  lord  and  gentle  cousin,  Mowbray. 
Mowb.     You    wish    me   health   in   very   happy 

season ; 
For  I  am,  on  the  sudden,  something  ill.  so 

Arch.     Against  ill  chances  men  are  ever  merry; 
But  heaviness  foreruns  the  good  event. 

West.     Therefore  be  merry,  coz;    since  sudden 

sorrow 

Serves  to  say  thus,  "  some  good  thing  comes  to- 
morrow." 

Arch.     Believe  me,  I  am  passing  light  in  spirit. 
Mowb.     So  much  the  worse,  if  your  own  rule 
b?  true.  [Shouts  ivithin. 


8S  KING   HENRY  THE  FOI'RTH    [ACT  Foum 

Lan.     The   word   of   peace   is   render'd :    hark, 

how  they  shout ! 

Mowb.     This  had  been  cheerful  after  victory. 
Arch.     A  peace  is  of  the  nature  of  a  conquest; 
90  For  then  both  parties  nobly  are  subdued, 
And  neither  party  loser. 

Lan.  Go,  my  lord, 

And  let  our  army  be  discharged  too. 

[Exit  Westmoreland. 

And,  good  my  lord,  so  please  you,  let  our  trains 
March  by  us,  that  we  may  peruse  the  men 
We  should  have  coped  withal. 

Arch.  Go,  good  Lord  Hastings, 

And,  ere  they  be  dismiss'd,  let  them  march  by. 

[Exit  Hastings. 
Lan.     I  trust,  lords,  we  shall  lie  to-night  together. 

Re-enter  WESTMORELAND 

Now  cousin,  wherefore  stands  our  army  still  ? 
West.     The  leaders,  having  charge  from  you  to 

stand, 

100  Will  not  go  off  until  they  hear  you  speak. 
Lan.     They  know  their  duties. 

Re-enter  HASTINGS 

Hast.     My  lord,  our  army  is  dispersed  already : 
Like   youthful    steers    unyoked,    they    take    their 

courses 
East,  west,  north,  south ;    or,  like  a  school  broke 

up, 

Each    hurries    toward    his    home    and    sporting- 
place. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      83 

West.     Good   tidings,   my   Lord  Hastings;    for 

the  which 

I  do  arrest  thee,  traitor,  of  high  treason  : 
And  you,  lord  archbishop,  and  you,  lord  Mowbray, 
Of  capital  treason  I  attach  you  both. 

Mowb.     Is  this  proceeding  just  and  honourable?  nc 

West.     Is  your  assembly  so  ? 

Arch.     Will  you  thus  break  your  faith  ? 

Lan.  I  pawn'd  thee  none : 

I  promised  you  redress  of  these  same  grievances 
Whereof    you    did    complain ;     which,    by    mine 

honour, 

I  will  perform  with  a  most  Christian  care. 
But  for  you,  rebels,  look  to  taste  the  due 
Meet  for  rebellion  and  such  acts  as  yours. 
Most  shallowly  did  you  these  arms  commence, 
Fondly  brought  here  and  foolishly  sent  hence. 
Strike  up  our  drums,  pursue  the  scatter'd  stray :      120 
God,  and  not  we,  hath  safely  fought  to-day. 
Some  guard  these  traitors  to  the  block  of  death, 
Treason's  true  bed  and  yielder  up  of  breath. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Another  part  of  the  forest 

Alarum.     Excursions.     Enter  FALSTAFF  and 
COLEVILE,  meeting 

Fal.  What  's  your  name,  sir?  of  what  condi- 
tion are  you,  and  of  what  place,  I  pray  ? 

Cole.  I  am  a  knight,  sir;  and  my  name  is 
Colevile  of  the  dale. 

Fal.     Well,    then,    Colevile    is    your    name,    a 


84  KING   HEXRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  Poua 

knight  is  your  degree,  and  your  place  the  dale : 
Colevile  shall  be  still  your  name,  a  traitor  your 
degree,  and  the  dungeon  your  place,  a  place 
deep  enough ;  so  shall  you  be  still  Colevile  of 
10  the  dale. 

Cole.     Are  not  you  Sir  John  Falstaff  ? 

Fal.  As  good  a  man  as  he,  sir,  whoe'er  I  am. 
Do  ye  yield,  sir  ?  or  shall  I  sweat  for  you  ?  If  I 
do  sweat,  they  are  the  drops  of  thy  lovers,  and 
they  weep  for  thy  death :  therefore  rouse  up 
fear  and  trembling,  and  do  observance  to  my 
mercy. 

Cole.  I  think  you  are  Sir  John  Falstaff,  and 
in  that  thought  yield  me. 

20  Fal.  I  have  a  whole  school  of  tongues  in 
this  belly  of  mine,  and  not  a  tongue  of  them 
all  speaks  any  other  word  but  my  name.  An  I 
had  but  a  belly  of  any  indifferency,  I  were 
simply  the  most  active  fellow  in  Europe :  my 
womb,  my  womb,  my  womb,  undoes  me.  Here 
comes  our  generah 

Enter  PRINCE  JOHN  of  Lancaster,  WESTMORELAND, 
BLUNT,  and  others 

Lan.  The  heat  is  past ;  follow  no  further  now : 
Call  in  the  powers,  good  cousin  Westmoreland. 

[Exit  Westmoreland. 
Now,    Falstaff,    where    have    you    been    all    this 

while  ? 

30  When  every  thing  is  ended,  then  you  come : 
These  tardy  tricks  of  yours  will,  on  my  life, 
One  time  or  other  break  some  gallows'  back. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING  HENRY   THE  FOURTH     85 

Fal.  I  would  be  sorry,  my  lord,  but  it  should 
be  thus :  I  never  knew  yet  but  rebuke  and  check 
was  the  reward  of  valour.  Do  you  think  me  a 
swallow,  an  arrow,  or  a  bullet?  have  I,  in 
my  poor  and  old  motion,  the  expedition  of  thought  ? 
I  have  speeded  hither  with  the  very  extremest 
inch  of  possibility;  I  have  foundered  nine  score 
and  odd  posts :  and  here,  travel-tainted  as  I  am,  40 
have,  in  my  pure  and  immaculate  valour,  taken 
Sir  John  Colevile  of  the  dale,  a  most  furious 
knight  and  valorous  enemy.  But  what  of  that? 
he  saw  me,  and  yielded ;  that  I  may  justly  say, 
with  the  hook-nosed  fellow  of  Rome,  "I  came, 
saw,  and  overcame." 

Lan.     It  was  more  of  his  courtesy  than  your 
deserving. 

Fal.  I  know  not :  here  he  is,  and  here  I  yield 
him :  and  I  beseech  your  grace,  let  it  be  booked  so 
with  the  rest  of  this  day's  deeds ;  or,  by  the  Lord, 
I  will  have  it  in  a  particular  ballad  else,  with 
mine  own  picture  on  the  top  on  't,  Colevile 
kissing  my  foot :  to  the  which  course  if  I  be 
enforced,  if  you  do  not  all  show  like  gilt  two- 
pences  to  me,  and  I  in  the  clear  sky  of  fame 
o'ershine  you  as  much  as  the  full  moon  doth  the 
cinders  of  the  element,  which  show  like  pins' 
heads  to  her,  believe  not  the  word  of  the  noble : 
therefore  let  me  have  right,  and  let  desert  eo 
mount. 

Lan.    Thine 's  too  heavy  to  mount. 

Fal.     Let  it  shine,  then. 

Lan.     Thine 's  too  thick  to  shine. 


80  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FOUB 

Fal.  Let  it  do  something,  my  good  lord,  that 
may  do  me  good,  and  call  it  what  you  will. 

Lan.     Is  thy  name  Colevile? 

Cole.     It  is,  my  lord. 

Lan.     A  famous  rebel  art  thou,  Colevile. 
70     Fal.     And  a  famous  true  subject  took  him. 

Cole.     I  am,  my  lord,  but  as  my  tatters  are 
That  led  me  hither :  had  they  been  ruled  by  me, 
You    should    have    won    them    dearer    than    you 
have. 

Fal.  I  know  not  how  they  sold  themselves: 
but  thou,  like  a  kind  fellow,  gavest  thyself  away 
gratis ;  and  I  thank  thee  for  thee. 

Re-enter  WESTMORELAND 

Lan.     Now,  have  you  left  pursuit  ? 
West.     Retreat  is  made  and  execution  stay'd. 
Lan.     Send  Colevile  with  his  confederates 
so  To  York,  to  present  execution  : 
Blunt,  lead  him  hence;    and  see  you  guard  him 
sure. 

[Exeunt  Blunt  and  others  with  Colerile. 
And  now  dispatch  we  toward  the  court,  my  lords : 
I  hear  the  king  my  father  is  sore  sick  : 
Our  news  shall  go  before  us  to  his  majesty, 
Which,  cousin,  you  shall  bear  to  comfort  him, 
And  we  with  sober  speed  will  follow  you. 

Fal.     My  lord,  I  beseech  you,  give  me  leave 

to  go 
Through   Gloucestershire :    and,   when  you  come 

to  court, 
Stand  my  good  lord,  pray,  in  your  good  report. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH      87 

Lan.     Fare  you  well,  Falstaff:    I,  in  my  condi- 
tion, 90 
Shall  better  speak  of  you  than  you  deserve. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Falstaff. 

Fal.  I  would  you  had  but  the  wit :  't  were 
better  than  your  dukedom.  Good  faith,  this 
same  young  sober-blooded  boy  doth  not  love 
me ;  nor  a  man  cannot  make  him  laugh ;  but 
that 's  no  marvel,  he  drinks  no  wine.  There 's 
never  none  of  these  demure  boys  come  to  any 
proof;  for  thin  drink  doth  so  over-cool  their 
blood,  and  making  many  fish-meals,  that  they 
fall  into  a  kind  of  male  green-sickness ;  and  then,  100 
when  they  marry,  they  get  wenches :  they  are 
generally  fools  and  cowards;  which  some  of  us 
should  be  too,  but  for  inflammation.  A  good 
sherris-sack  hath  a  two-fold  operation  in  it.  It 
ascends  me  into  the  brain;  dries  me  there  all  the 
foolish  and  dull  and  crudy  vapours  which  environ 
it;  makes  it  apprehensive,  quick,  forgetive,  full 
of  nimble  fiery  and  delectable  shapes;  which, 
delivered  o'er  to  the  voice,  the  tongue,  which 
is  the  birth,  becomes  excellent  wit.  The  second  110 
property  of  your  excellent  sherris  is,  the  warming 
of  the  blood;  which,  before  cold  and  settled, 
left  the  liver  white  and  pale,  which  is  the  badge 
of  pusillanimity  and  cowardice;  but  the  sherris 
warms  it  and  makes  it  course  from  the  inwards 
to  the  parts  extreme :  it  illumineth  the  face, 
which  as  a  beacon  gives  warning  to  all  the  rest 
of  this  little  kingdom,  man,  to  arm;  and  then 
the  vital  commoners  and  inland  petty  spirits 


88  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [ACT  FOUR 

120  muster  me  all  to  their  captain,  the  heart,  who, 
great  and  puffed  up  with  this  retinue,  doth  any 
deed  of  courage ;  and  this  valour  comes  of  sherris. 
So  that  skill  in  the  weapon  is  nothing  without 
sack,  for  that  sets  it  a-work ;  and  learning  a  mere 
hoard  of  gold  kept  by  a  devil,  till  sack  com- 
mences it  and  sets  it  in  act  and  use.  Hereof 
comes  it  that  Prince  Harry  is  valiant ;  for  the 
cold  blood  he  did  naturally  inherit  of  his  father, 
he  hath,  like  lean,  sterile  and  bare  land,  manured, 

130  husbanded  and  tilled  with  excellent  endeavour 
of  drinking  good  and  good  store  of  fertile  sherris, 
that  he  is  become  very  hot  and  valiant.  If  I 
had  a  thousand  sons,  the  first  humane  principle  I 
would  teach  them  should  be,  to  forswear  thin 
potations  and  to  addict  themselves  to  sack. 

Enter  BARDOLPH 
How  now,  Bardolph  ? 

Bard.     The  army  is  discharged  all  and  gone. 
Fal.     Let    them    go.     I  '11   through   Gloucester- 
shire;   and  there  will  I  visit  Master  Robert  Shal- 
HO  low,    esquire :     I    have    him    already    tempering 
between  my  finger  and  my  thumb,  and  shortly 
will  I  seal  with  him.     Come  away.  [Exeunt 


SCENE  IV — Westminster.     The  Jerusalem  Chamber 

Enter  the  KINO,  the  PRINCES  THOMAS  OF  CLARENCI 
and  HUMPHREY  OP  GLOUCESTER,  WARWICK,  am 
others 

King.     Now,  lords,  if  God  doth  give  successfu 
end 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       89 

To  this  debate  that  bleedeth  at  our  doors, 

We  will  our  youth  lead  on  to  higher  fields 

And  draw  no  swords  but  what  are  sanctified. 

Our  navy  is  address'd,  our  power  collected, 

Our  substitutes  in  absence  well  invested, 

And  every  thing  lies  level  to  our  wish  : 

Only,  we  want  a  little  personal  strength ; 

And  pause  us,  till  these  rebels,  now  afoot, 

Come  underneath  the  yoke  of  government.  10 

War.     Both    which    we    doubt    not    but    your 

majesty 
Shall  soon  enjoy. 

King.  Humphrey,  my  son  of  Gloucester, 

Where  is  the  prince  your  brother  ? 

Glou.     I  think  he  's  gone  to  hunt,  my  lord,  at 
Windsor. 

King.     And  how  accompanied  ? 

Glou.  I  do  not  know,  my  lord. 

King.     Is  not  his  brother,  Thomas  of  Clarence, 
with  him  ? 

Glou.     No,   my  good  lord;    he  is  in   presence 
here. 

Clar.     What  would  my  lord  and  father  ? 

King.     Nothing  but  well  to  thee,   Thomas  of 

Clarence. 
How  chance  thou  art  not  with  the  prince  thy 

brother  ?  20 

He  loves  thee,  and  thou  dost  neglect  him,  Thomas ; 
Thou  hast  a  better  place  in  his  affection 
Than  all  thy  brothers  :   cherish  it,  my  boy, 
And  noble  offices  thou  mayst  effect 
Of  mediation,  after  I  am  dead, 


90           KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  Foua 

Between  his  greatness  and  thy  other  brethren  : 
Therefore  omit  him  not ;  blunt  not  his  love, 
Nor  lose  the  good  advantage  of  his  grace 
By  seeming  cold  or  careless  of  his  will ; 
30  For  he  is  gracious,  if  he  be  observed  : 
He  hath  a  tear  for  pity  and  a  hand 
Open  as  day  for  melting  charity  : 
Yet  notwithstanding,  being  incensed,  he  's  flint, 
As  humorous  as  winter  and  as  sudden 
As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day. 
His  temper,  therefore,  must  be  well  observed : 
Chide  him  for  faults,  and  do  it  reverently, 
When  you  perceive  his  blood  inclined  to  mirth ; 
But,  being  moody,  give  him  line  and  scope, 
40  Till  that  his  passions,  like  a  whale  on  ground, 
Confound  themselves  with  working.     Learn  this, 

Thomas, 

And  thou  shalt  prove  a  shelter  to  thy  friends, 
A  hoop  of  gold  to  bind  thy  brothers  in, 
That  the  united  vessel  of  their  blood, 
Mingled  with  venom  of  suggestion  — 
As,  force  perforce,  the  age  will  pour  it  in  — 
Shall  never  leak,  though  it  do  work  as  strong 
As  aconitum  or  rash  gunpowder. 

Clar.     I  shall  observe  him  with  all  care   and 

love. 
so      King.     Why  art  thou  not  at  Windsor  with  him, 

Thomas  ? 
Clar.     He   is   not    there   to-day;     he   dines   in 

London. 

King.     And  how  accompanied?  canst  thou  tell 
that? 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       91 

Clar.     With    Poins,    and    other    his    continual 
followers. 

King.     Most  subject  is  the  fattest  soil  to  weeds ; 
And  he,  the  noble  image  of  my  youth, 
Is  overspread  with  them  :  therefore  my  grief 
Stretches  itself  beyond  the  hour  of  death : 
The  blood  weeps  from  my  heart  when  I  do  shape 
In  forms  imaginary  the  unguided  days 
And  rotten  times  that  you  shall  look  upon  »i 

When  I  am  sleeping  with  my  ancestors. 
For  when  his  headstrong  riot  hath  no  curb, 
When  rage  and  hot  blood  are  his  counsellors, 
When  means  and  lavish  manners  meet  together, 
O,  with  what  wings  shall  his  affections  fly 
Towards  fronting  peril  and  opposed  decay  ! 

War.     My  gracious  lord,  you  look  beyond  him 

quite : 

The  prince  but  studies  his  companions 
Like  a  strange  tongue,  wherein,  to  gain  the  lan- 
guage, 

'T  is  needful  that  the  most  immodest  word  70 

Be  look'd  upon  and  learn'd ;  which  once  attain'd, 
Your  highness  knows,  comes  to  no  further  use 
But  to  be  known  and  hated.     So,  like  gross  terms, 
The  prince  will  in  the  perfectness  of  time 
Cast  off  his  followers ;  and  their  memory 
Shall  as  a  pattern  or  a  measure  live, 
Jy  which  his  grace  must  mete  the  lives  of  others, 
burning  past  evils  to  advantages. 

King.     'T  is  seldom  when  the  bee  doth  leave  her 
comb 

the  dead  carrion. 


!>!  KING   jHENRY  THE  FOURTH     [Act  FOUR 

Enter  WESTMORELAND 

so  Who  's  liere  ?     Westmoreland  ? 

West.     Health  to  my  sovereign,  and  new  happi- 
ness 

Added  to  that  that  I  am  to  deliver ! 
Prince  John  your  son  doth  kiss  your  grace's  hand  : 
Mowbray,  the  Bishop  Scroop,  Hastings  and  all 
Are  brought  to  the  correction  of  your  law ; 
There  is  not  now  a  rebel's  sword  unsheathed, 
But  Peace  puts  forth  her  olive  every  where. 
The  manner  how  this  action  hath  been  borne 
Here  at  more  leisure  may  your  highness  read, 
90  With  every  course  in  his  particular. 

King.     O   Westmoreland,    thou   art  a   summer 

bird, 

Which  ever  in  the  haunch  of  winter  sings 
The  lifting  up  of  day. 

Enter  HARCOURT 

Look,  here 's  more  news. 
Har.     From  enemies  heaven  keep  your  majesty 
And,  when  they  stand  against  you,  may  they  fall 
As  those  that  I  am  come  to  tell  you  of ! 
The  Earl  Northumberland  and  the  Lord  Bardolph 
With  a  great  power  of  English  and  of  Scots, 
Are  by  the  sheriff  of  Yorkshire  overthrown  : 
100  The  manner  and  true  order  of  the  fight 
This  packet,  please  it  you,  contains  at  large. 
King.     And  wherefore  should  these  good  new 

make  me  sick  ? 
Will  Fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full, 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       93 

But  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest  letters  ? 

She  either  gives  a  stomach  and  no  food ; 

Such  are  the  poor,  in  health ;  or  else  a  feast 

And  takes  away  the  stomach ;  such  are  the  rich, 

That  have  abundance  and  enjoy  it  not. 

I  should  rejoice  now  at  this  happy  news ; 

And  now  my  sight  fails,  and  my  brain  is  giddy :       no 

0  me  !  come  near  me ;  now  I  am  much  ill. 

Glou.     Comfort,  your  majesty  ! 

Clar.  O  my  royal  father  ! 

West.     My   sovereign   lord,   cheer  up  yourself, 
look  up. 

War.     Be  patient,  princes ;  you  do  know,  these 

fits 

Are  with  his  highness  very  ordinary. 
Stand  from  him,  give  him  air ;  he  '11  straight  be  well. 

Clar.     No,  no,  he  cannot  long  hold  out  these 

pangs : 

The  incessant  care  and  labour  of  his  mind 
Hath  wrought  the  mure  that  should  confine  it  in 
So  thin  that  life  looks  through  and  will  break  out.   120 

Glou.     The  people  fear  me ;  for  they  do  observe 
Unfather'd  heirs  and  loathly  births  of  nature : 
The  seasons  change  their  manners,  as  the  year 
Had  found  some  months  asleep  and  leap'd  them 
over. 

Clar.     The    river    hath    thrice    flow'd,    no   ebb 

between ; 

And  the  old  folk,  time's  doting  chronicles, 
Say  it  did  so  a  little  time  before 
That  our  great-grandsire,  Edward,  sick'd  and  died. 

War.     Speak  lower,  princes,  for  the  king  recovers. 


!)4  KING    HENRY   THE   FOt'KTII     [ACT  FOUR 

130      Glou.     This  apoplexy  will  certain  be  his  end. 

King.     1  pray  you,  take  me  up,  and  bear  me 

hence 
Into  some  other  chamber  :  softly,  pray.      [Exeunt. 

SCENE  V  —  Another  chamber 

The  KING  lying  on   a  bed:     CLARENCE,   GLOUCESTER, 
WARWICK,  and  others  in  attendance 

King.     Let  there  be  no  noise  made,  my  gentle 

friends ; 

Unless  some  dull  and  favourable  hand 
Will  whisper  music  to  my  weary  spirit. 

War.     Call  for  the  music  in  the  other  room. 

King.     Set  me  the  crown  upon  my  pillow  here. 

Clar.     His  eye  is  hollow,  and  he  changes  much. 

War.     Less  noise,  less  noise  ! 

Enter  PRINCE  HENRY 

Prince.  Who  saw  the  Duke  of  Clarence? 

Clar.     I  am  here,  brother,  full  of  heaviness. 
Prince.     How  now  !  rain  within  doors,  and  none 

abroad ! 

10  How  doth  the  king  ? 
Glou.     Exceeding  ill. 

Prince.  Heard  he  the  good  news  yet  ? 

Tell  it  him. 

Glou.     He  alter'd  much  upon  the  hearing  it. 
Prince.     If  he  be  sick  with  joy,  he  '11  recover 
without  physic. 

War.     Not   so   much    noise,    my   lords :    sweet 
prince,  speak  low; 


SCENE  FIVE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        95 

The  king  your  father  is  disposed  to  sleep. 
Clar.     Let  us  withdraw  into  the  other  room. 
War.     Will  't  please  your  grace  to  go  along  with 

us? 
Prince.     No;    I  will  sit  and  watch  here  by  the 

king.  [Exeunt  all  but  the  Prince.  20 

Why  doth  the  crown  lie  there  upon  his  pillow, 
Being  so  troublesome  a  bedfellow  ? 
O  polish'd  perturbation  !  golden  care  ! 
That  keep'st  the  ports  of  slumber  open  wide 
To  many  a  watchful  night !  sleep  with  it  now  ! 
Yet  not  so  sound  and  half  so  deeply  sweet 
As  he  whose  brow  with  homely  biggen  bound 
Snores  out  the  watch  of  night.     O  majesty  ! 
When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  bearer,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a  rich  armour  worn  in  heat  of  day,  so 

That  scalds  with  safety.     By  his  gates  of  breath 
There  lies  a  downy  feather  which  stirs  not : 
Did  he  suspire,  that  light  and  weightless  down 
Perforce    must    move.     My    gracious    lord !    my 

father ! 

This  sleep  is  sound  indeed ;  this  is  a  sleep 
That  from  this  golden  rigol  hath  divorced 
So  many  English  kings.     Thy  due  from  me 
Is  tears  and  heavy  sorrows  of  the  blood, 
Which  nature,  love,  and  filial  tenderness, 
Shall,  O  dear  father,  pay  thee  plenteously  :  *o 

My  due  from  thee  is  this  imperial  crown, 
Which,  as  immediate  from  thy  place  and  blood, 
Derives  itself  to  me.     Lo,  here  it  sits, 
Which  God  shall  guard  :  and  put  the  world's  whole 

strength 


96  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FOVB 

Into  one  giant  arm,  it  shall  not  force 
This  lineal  honour  from  me :   this  from  thee 
Will  I  to  mine  leave,  as  't  is  left  to  me.  [Exit. 

King.     Warwick  !  Gloucester  !  Clarence  ! 

Re-enter  WARWICK,  GLOUCESTER,  CLARENCE, 
and  the  rest 

Clar.     Doth  the  king  call  ? 
so      War.     What  would  your  majesty?     How  fares 

your  grace  ? 
King.     Why  did  you  leave  me  here  alone,  my 

lords  ? 
Clar.     We  left  the  prince  my  brother  here,  my 

liege, 
Who  undertook  to  sit  and  watch  by  you. 

King.     The  Prince  of  Wales  !     Where  is  he  ?  let 

me  see  him : 
He  is  not  here. 

War.     This  door  is  open ;   he  is  gone  this  way. 
Glou.     He  came  not  through  the  chamber  where 

we  stay'd. 
King.     Where  is  the  crown  ?  who  took  it  from 

my  pillow  ? 
War.     When  we  withdrew,  my  liege,  we  left  it 

here. 
GO     King.     The  prince  hath  ta'en  it  hence  :  go,  seek 

him  out. 

Is  he  so  hasty  that  he  doth  suppose 
My  sleep  my  death  ? 

Find  him,  my  Lord  of  Warwick ;  chide  him  hither. 

[Exit  Warwick. 
This  part  of  his  conjoins  with  my  disease, 


SCENE  FIVE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH        97 

And  helps  to  end  me.     See,  sons,  what  things  you 

are ! 

How  quickly  nature  falls  into  revolt 
When  gold  becomes  her  object ! 
For  this  the  foolish  over-careful  fathers 
Have  broke  their  sleep  with  thoughts,  their  brains 

with  care, 

Their  bones  with  industry ;  70 

For  this  they  have  engross'd  and  piled  up 
The  canker'd  heaps  of  strange-achieved  gold ; 
For  this  they  have  been  thoughtful  to  invest 
Their  sons  with  arts  and  martial  exercises : 
When,  like  the  bee,  culling  from  every  flower 
The  virtuous  sweets, 
Our  thighs  pack'd  with  wax,   our  mouths  with 

honey, 

We  bring  it  to  the  hive,  and,  like  the  bees, 
Are  murdered  for  our  pains.     This  bitter  taste 
Yield  his  engrossments  to  the  ending  father.  so 

Re-enter  WARWICK 

Now,  where  is  he  that  will  not  stay  so  long 
Till  his  friend  sickness  hath  determined  me  ? 

War.     My  lord,  I  found  the  prince  in  the  next 

room, 

Washing  with  kindly  tears  his  gentle  cheeks, 
With  such  a  deep  demeanour  in  great  sorrow 
That  tyranny,  which  never  quaff'd  but  blood, 
Would,  by  beholding  him,  have  wash'd  his  knife 
With  gentle  eye-drops.     He  is  coming  hither. 

King.     But   wherefore   did   he   take   away   the 
crown  ? 


98  KING   HENRY   THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FOUB 

Re-fnier  PRINCE  HEVRY 

90  Lo,  where  he  comes.     Come  hither  to  me,  Harry. 
Depart  the  chamber,  leave  us  here  alone. 

[Exeunt  Warwick  and  the  rest. 
Prince.  I  never  thought  to  hear  you  speak  again. 
King.  Thy  wish  was  father,  Harry,  to  that 

thought : 

I  stay  too  long  by  thee,  I  weary  thee. 
Dost  thou  so  hunger  for  mine  empty  chair 
That  thou  wilt  needs  invest  thee  with  my  honours 
Before  thy  hour  be  ripe  ?     O  foolish  youth  ! 
Thou  seek'st  the  greatness  that  will  overwhelm  thee. 
Stay  but  a  little ;  for  my  cloud  of  dignity 

100  Is  held  from  falling  with  so  weak  a  wind 
That  it  will  quickly  drop  :   my  day  is  dim. 
Thou  hast  stolen  that  which  after  some  few  hours 
Were  thine  without  offence ;  and  at  my  death 
Thou  hast  seal'd  up  my  expectation  : 
Thy  life  did  manifest  thou  lovedst  me  not, 
And  thou  wilt  have  me  die  assured  of  it. 
Thou  hidest  a  thousand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts, 
Which  thou  hast  whetted  on  thy  stony  heart, 
To  stab  at  half  an  hour  of  my  life. 

no  What !  canst  thou  not  forbear  me  half  an  hour? 
Then  get  thee  gone  and  dig  my  grave  thyself, 
And  bid  the  merry  bells  ring  to  thine  ear 
That  thou  art  crowned,  not  that  I  am  dead. 
Let  all  the  tears  that  should  bedew  my  hearse 
Be  drops  of  balm  to  sanctify  thy  head  : 
Only  compound  me  with  forgotten  dust ; 
Give  that  which  gave  thee  life  unto  the  worms. 


SCENE  FIVE]     KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH        99 

Pluck  down  my  officers,  break  my  decrees ; 

For  now  a  time  is  come  to  mock  at  form : 

Harry  the  Fifth  is  crown'd  :   up,  vanity  !  120 

Down,  royal  state  !  all  you  sage  counsellors,  hence  ! 

And  to  the  English  court  assemble  now, 

From  every  region,  apes  of  idleness  ! 

Now,  neighbour  confines,  purge  you  of  your  scum : 

Have  you  a  ruffian  that  will  swear,  drink,  dance, 

Revel  the  night,  rob,  murder,  and  commit 

The  oldest  sins  the  newest  kind  of  ways  ? 

Be  happy,  he  will  trouble  you  no  more ; 

England  shall  double  gild  his  treble  guilt, 

England  shall  give  him  office,  honour,  might ;  iso 

For  the  fifth  Harry  from  curb'd  license  plucks 

The  muzzle  of  restraint,  and  the  wild  dog 

Shall  flesh  his  tooth  on  every  innocent. 

0  my  poor  kingdom,  sick  with  civil  blows ! 
When  that  my  care  could  not  withhold  thy  riots, 
What  wilt  thou  do  when  riot  is  thy  care  ? 

O,  thou  wilt  be  a  wilderness  again, 
Peopled  with  wolves,  thy  old  inhabitants  ! 

Prince.     O,  pardon  me,  my  liege !  but  for  my 

tears, 
The  moist  impediments  unto  my  speech,  no 

1  had  forestall  'd  this  dear  and  deep  rebuke 
Ere  you  with  grief  had  spoke  and  I  had  heard 
The  course  of  it  so  far.     There  is  your  crown ; 
And  He  that  wears  the  crown  immortally 
Long  guard  it  yours !     If  I  affect  it  more 
Than  as  your  honour  and  as  your  renown, 
Let  me  no  more  from  this  obedience  rise, 
Which  my  most  inward  true  and  duteous  spirit 


100         KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    (ACT  FOUR 

Teacheth,  this  prostrate  and  exterior  bending. 

iso  God  witness  with  me,  when  I  here  came  in. 

And  found  no  course  of  breath  within  your  majesty, 
How  cold  it  struck  my  heart !     If  I  do  feign, 
O,  let  me  in  my  present  wildness  die 
And  never  live  to  show  the  incredulous  world 
The  noble  change  that  I  have  purposed  ! 
Coming  to  look  on  you,  thinking  you  dead, 
And  dead  almost,  my  liege,  to  think  you  were, 
I  spake  unto  this  crown  as  having  sense, 
And  thus  upbraided  it :  "The  care  on  thee  depend- 
ing 

leo  Hath  fed  upon  the  body  of  my  father ; 

Therefore,  thou  best  of  gold  art  worst  of  gold  : 
Other,  less  fine  in  carat,  is  more  precious, 
Preserving  life  in  medicine  potable ; 
But  thou,  most  fine,  most  honour'd,  most  renown'd, 
Hast  eat  thy  bearer  up."     Thus,  my  most  royal 

liege, 

Accusing  it,  I  put  it  on  my  head, 
To  try  with  it,  as  with  an  enemy 
That  had  before  my  face  murder'd  my  father, 
The  quarrel  of  a  true  inheritor. 

170  But  if  it  did  infect  my  blood  with  joy, 

Or  swell  my  thoughts  to  any  strain  of  pride ; 
If  any  rebel  or  vain  spirit  of  mine 
Did  with  the  least  affection  of  a  welcome 
Give  entertainment  to  the  might  of  it, 
Let  God  for  ever  keep  it  from  my  head 
And  make  me  as  the  poorest  vassal  is 
That  doth  with  awe  and  terror  kneel  to  it ! 
King.     O  my  son, 


SCENE  FIVE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      101 

God  put  it  in  thy  mind  to  take  it  hence, 

That   thou   mightst   win   the    more    thy   father's 

love,  igo 

Pleading  so  wisely  in  excuse  of  it ! 
Come  hither,  Harry,  sit  thou  by  my  bed ; 
And  hear,  I  think,  the  very  latest  counsel 
That  ever  I  shall  breathe.     God  knows,  my  son, 
By  what  by-paths  and  indirect  crook'd  ways 
I  met  this  crown ;   and  I  myself  know  well 
How  troublesome  it  sat  upon  my  head. 
To  thee  it  shall  descend  with  better  quiet, 
Better  opinion,  better  confirmation  ; 
For  all  the  soil  of  the  achievement  goes  190 

With  me  into  the  earth.     It  seem'd  in  me 
But  as  an  honour  snatch'd  with  boisterous  hand, 
And  I  had  many  living  to  upbraid 
My  gain  of  it  by  their  assistances ; 
Which  daily  grew  to  quarrel  and  to  bloodshed, 
Wounding  supposed  peace  :  all  these  bold  fears 
Thou  see'st  with  peril  I  have  answered ; 
For  all  my  reign  hath  been  but  as  a  scene 
Acting  that  argument :   and  now  my  death 
Changes  the  mode ;  for  what  in  me  was  purchased,  200 
Falls  upon  thee  in  a  more  fairer  sort ; 
So  thou  the  garland  wear'st  successively. 
Yet,  though  thou  stand'st  more  sure  than  I  could 

do, 

Thou  art  not  firm  enough,  since  griefs  are  green  ; 
And  all  my  friends,  which  thou  must  make  thy 

friends, 

Have  but  their  stings  and  teeth  newly  ta'en  out ; 
By  whose  fell  working  I  was  first  advanced 


10*          KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Acr  FIVE 

And  by  whose  power  I  well  might  lodge  a  fear 
To  be  again  displaced  :   which  to  avoid, 

210 1  cut  them  off ;  and  had  a  purpose  now 
To  lead  out  many  to  the  Holy  Land, 
Lest  rest  and  lying  still  might  make  them  look 
Too  near  unto  my  state.     Therefore,  my  Harry, 
Be  it  thy  course  to  busy  giddy  minds 
With  foreign  quarrels;    that  action,  hence  borne 

out, 

May  waste  the  memory  of  the  former  days. 
More  would  I,  but  my  lungs  are  wasted  so 
That  strength  of  speech  is  utterly  denied  me. 
How  I  came  by  the  crown,  O  God  forgive ; 

220  And  grant  it  may  with  thee  in  true  peace  live ! 

Prince.     My  gracious  liege, 
You  won  it,  wore  it,  kept  it,  gave  it  me ; 
Then  plain  and  right  must  my  possession  be : 
Which  I  with  more  than  with  a  common  pain 
'Gainst  all  the  world  will  rightfully  maintain. 

Enter  LORD  JOHN  OF  LANCASTER 

King.     Look,    look,    here    comes    my    John    of 

Lancaster. 
Lan.     Health,  peace,  and  happiness  to  my  royal 

father ! 
King.     Thou  bring'st  me  happiness  and  peace, 

son  John ; 

But  health,  alack,  with  youthful  wings  is  flown 
230  From  this  bare  wither'd  trunk  :  upon  thy  sight 
My  worldly  business  makes  a  period. 
Where  is  my  Lord  of  Warwick  ? 

Prince.  My  Lord  of  Warwick ! 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY   THE   FOURTH       103 

Re-enter  WAKWICK,  and  others 

King.     Doth  any  name  particular  belong 
Unto  the  lodging  where  I  first  did  swoon  ? 

War.     'T  is  call'd  Jerusalem,  my  noble  lord. 

King.     Laud  be  to  God  !  even  there  my  life  must 

end. 

It  hath  been  prophesied  to  me  many  years, 
I  should  not  die  but  in  Jerusalem ; 
Which  vainly  I  supposed  the  Holy  Land : 
But  bear  me  to  that  chamber ;  there  I  '11  lie ;  240 

In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  V 

SCENE  I  —  Gloucestershire.     SHALLOW'S  house 
Enter  SHALLOW,  FALSTAFF,  BARDOLPH,  and  Page 

Shal.  By  cock  and  pie,  sir,  you  shall  not  away 
to-night.  What,  Davy,  I  say  ! 

Fed.  You  must  excuse  me,  Master  Robert 
Shallow. 

Shal.  I  will  not  excuse  you ;  you  shall  not  be 
excused ;  excuses  shall  not  be  admitted ;  there  is 
no  excuse  shall  serve ;  you  shall  not  be  excused. 
Why,  Davy ! 

Enter  DAVY 

Davy.     Here,  sir. 

Shal.     Davy,  Davy,  Davy,  Davy,  let  me  see,  10 
Davy ;  let  me  see,  Davy ;  let  me  see  :  yea,  marry, 
William  cook,   bid   him  come  hither.     Sir  John, 
you  shall  not  be  excused, 


104         KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [A<T 

Dai'y.  Marry,  sir,  thus;  those  precepts  can- 
not be  served  :  and,  again,  sir,  shall  we  sow  the 
headland  with  wheat? 

Shal.  With  red  wheat,  Davy.  But  for  Wil- 
liam cook  :  are  there  no  young  pigeons  ? 

Davy.  Yes,  sir.  Here  is  now  the  smith's  note 
20  for  shoeing  and  plough-irons. 

Shal.  Let  it  be  cast  and  paid.  Sir  John,  you 
shall  not  be  excused. 

Davy.  Now,  sir,  a  new  link  to  the  bucket 
must  needs  be  had  :  and,  sir,  do  you  mean  to  stop 
any  of  William's  wages,  about  the  sack  he  lost 
the  other  day  at  Hinckley  fair  ? 

Shal.     A'  shall  answer  it.     Some  pigeons,  Davy, 

a  couple  of  short-legged  hens,  a  joint  of  mutton, 

and  any  pretty  little  tiny  kickshaws,  tell  William 

30  cook. 

Davy.     Doth  the  man  of  war  stay  all  night,  sir  ? 

Shal.  Yea,  Davy.  I  will  use  him  well :  a 
friend  i'  the  court  is  better  than  a  penny  in  purse. 
Use  his  men  well,  Davy;  for  they  are  arrant 
knaves,  and  will  backbite. 

Davy.  No  worse  than  they  are  backbitten, 
sir;  for  they  have  marvellous  foul  linen. 

Shal.  Well  conceited,  Davy :  about  thy  busi- 
40  ness,  Davy. 

Davy.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  to  countenance 
William  Visor  of  Woncot  against  Clement  Perkes 
of  the  hill. 

Shal.  There  is  many  complaints,  Davy,  against 
that  Visor :  that  Visor  is  an  arrant  knave,  on  my 
knowledge. 


SCENE  ONE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       105 

Davy.  I  grant  your  worship  that  he  is  a 
knave,  sir;  but  yet,  God  forbid,  sir,  but  a  knave 
should  have  some  countenance  at  his  friend's 
request.  An  honest  man,  sir,  is  able  to  speak  forso 
himself,  when  a  knave  is  not.  I  have  served  your 
worship  truly,  sir,  this  eight  years;  and  if  I 
cannot  once  or  twice  in  a  quarter  bear  out  a  knave 
against  an  honest  man,  I  have  but  a  very  little  credit 
with  your  worship.  The  knave  is  mine  honest 
friend,  sir :  therefore,  I  beseech  your  worship,  let 
him  be  countenanced. 

Shot.     Go  to;    I  say  he  shall  have  no  wrong. 
Look    about,    Davy.     [Exit    Davy.]     Where    are 
'you,    Sir    John?     Come,    come,    come,    off    witheo 
your  boots.     Give  me  your  hand,  Master  Bar- 
dolph. 

Bard.     I  am  glad  to  see  your  worship. 

Shal.  I  thank  thee  with  all  my  heart,  kind 
Master  Bardolph :  and  welcome,  my  tall  fellow 
[to  the  Page].  Come,  Sir  John. 

Fal.  I  '11  follow  you,  good  Master  Robert 
Shallow.  [Exit  Shallow.]  Bardolph,  look  to 
our  horses.  [Exeunt  Bardolph  and  Page.]  If 
I  were  sawed  into  quantities,  I  should  make  four  70 
dozen  of  such  bearded  hermits'  staves  as  Master 
Shallow.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing  to  see  the  sem- 
blable  coherence  of  his  men's  spirits  and  his  :  they, 
by  observing  of  him,  do  bear  themselves  like 
foolish  justices;  he,  by  conversing  with  them,  is 
turned  into  a  justice-like  serving-man  :  their  spirits 
are  so  married  in  conjunction  with  the  participa- 
tion of  society  that  they  flock  together  in  consent, 


106         KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FIVE 

like  so  many  wild-geese.  If  I  had  a  suit  to  Mas- 
so  ter  Shallow,  I  would  humour  his  men  with  the 
imputation  of  being  near  their  master :  if  to  his 
men,  I  would  curry  with  Master  Shallow  that  no 
man  could  better  command  his  servants.  It  is 
certain  that  either  wise  bearing  or  ignorant  car- 
riage is  caught,  as  men  take  diseases,  one  of 
another :  therefore  let  men  take  heed  of  their 
company.  I  will  devise  matter  enough  out  of 
this  Shallow  to  keep  Prince  Harry  in  continual 
laughter  the  wearing  out  of  six  fashions,  which  is 
90  four  terms,  or  two  actions,  and  a'  shall  laugh 
without  intervallums.  O,  it  is  much  that  a  lie 
with  a  slight  oath  and  a  jest  with  a  sad  brow  will 
do  with  a  fellow  that  never  had  the  ache  in  his 
shoulders !  O,  you  shall  see  him  laugh  till  his 
face  be  like  a  wet  cloak  ill  laid  up ! 
Shot.  [Within]  Sir  John  ! 
Fal.  I  come,  Master  Shallow;  I  come,  Master 
Shallow.  (Exit. 

SCENE  II  —  Westminster.     The  palace 

Enter  WARWICK  and  the  LORD  CHIEF-JUSTICE, 
meeting 

War.     How  now,  my  lord  chief-justice !  whith< 

away? 

Ch.  Just.     How  doth  the  king  ? 
War.     Exceeding  well ;    his  cares  are  now 

ended. 

Ch.  Just.     I  hope,  not  dead. 
War.  He 's  walk'd  the  way  of  nature ; 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH       107 

And  to  our  purposes  he  lives  no  more. 

Ch.  Just.     I  would  his  majesty  had  call'd  me 

with  him : 

The  service  that  I  truly  did  his  life 
Hath  left  me  open  to  all  injuries. 

War.     Indeed  I  think  the  young  king  loves  you 

not. 
Ch.  Just.     I  know  he  doth  not,  and  do  arm 

myself  10 

To  welcome  the  condition  of  the  time, 
Which  cannot  look  more  hideously  upon  me 
Than  I  have  drawn  it  in  my  fantasy. 

Enter  LANCASTER,  CLARENCE,  GLOUCESTER, 

WESTMORELAND,  and  others 
•  lu*.  i  ii\i  vd  D9.1 

War.     Here    come    the    heavy    issue    of    dead 

Harry : 

O  that  the  living  Harry  had  the  temper 
Of  him,  the  worst  of  these  three  gentlemen  ! 
How  many  nobles  then  should  hold  their  places, 
That  must  strike  sail  to  spirits  of  vile  sort ! 

Ch.  Just.     O  God,  I  fear  all  will  be  overturn'd ! 
Lan.     Good    morrow,    cousin    Warwick,    good 

morrow.  .&'}   20 

Glou.  I    „      , 

„,       [  Good  morrow,  cousin. 

Clar.  J 

Lan.     We  meet  like  men  that  had  forgot  to 

speak. 

War.     We  do  remember ;  but  our  argument 
Is  all  too  heavy  to  admit  much  talk. 

Lan.     Well,  peace  be  with  him  that  hath  made 

us  heavy ! 


108         KING  HENRY  THE  TOURTH    [ACT  FIVE 

Ch.  Just.     Peace  be  with  us,  lest  we  be  heavier! 
Glou.     O,  good  my  lord,  you  have  lost  a  friend 

indeed ; 

And  I  dare  swear  you  borrow  not  that  face 
Of  seeming  sorrow,  it  is  sure  your  own. 
30     Lan.     Though  no  man  be  assured  what  grace  to 

find, 

You  stand  in  coldest  expectation  : 
I  am  the  sorrier ;  would  't  were  otherwise. 

Clar.     Well,    you    must    now    speak    Sir    John 

Falstaff  fair; 

Which  swims  against  your  stream  of  quality. 
Ch.  Just.     Sweet  princes,  what  I  did,  I  did  in 

honour, 

Led  by  the  impartial  conduct  of  my  soul ; 
And  never  shall  you  see  that  I  will  beg 
A  ragged  and  forestall 'd  remission. 
If  truth  and  upright  innocency  fail  me, 
40 1  '11  to  the  king  my  master  that  is  dead, 
And  tell  him  who  hath  sent  me  after  him. 
War.     Here  comes  the  prince. 

Enter  KING  HENRY  the  Fifth,  attended 

Ch.  Just.     Good  morrow ;    and  God  save  your 

majesty ! 

King.     This  new  and   gorgeous   garment,   ma- 
jesty, 

Sits  not  so  easy  on  me  as  you  think. 
Brothers,  you  mix  your  sadness  with  some  fear : 
This  is  the  English,  not  the  Turkish  court ; 
Not  Amurath  an  Amurath  succeeds, 
But  Harry  Harry.     Yet  be  sad,  good  brothers, 


SCENE  Two]    KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       109 

For,  by  my  faith,  it  very  well  becomes  you  :  so 

Sorrow  so  royally  in  you  appears 

That  I  will  deeply  put  the  fashion  on 

And  wear  it  in  my  heart :  why  then,  be  sad ; 

But  entertain  no  more  of  it,  good  brothers, 

Than  a  joint  burden  laid  upon  us  all. 

For  me,  by  heaven,  I  bid  you  be  assured, 

I  '11  be  your  father  and  your  brother  too ; 

Let  me  but  bear  your  love,  I  '11  bear  your  cares  : 

Yet  weep  that  Harry  's  dead ;  and  so  will  I ; 

But  Harry  lives,  that  shall  convert  those  tears         eo 

By  number  into  hours  of  happiness. 

Princes.     We  hope  no  other  from  your  majesty. 

King.     You  all  look  strangely  on  me :   and  you 

most; 
You  are,  I  think,  assured  I  love  you  not. 

Ch.  Just.     I  am  assured,  if  I  be  measured  rightly, 
Your  majesty  hath  no  just  cause  to  hate  me. 

King.     No ! 

How  might  a  prince  of  my  great  hopes  forget 
So  great  indignities  you  laid  upon  me  ? 
What !  rate,  rebuke,  and  roughly  send  to  prison       70 
The  immediate  heir  of  England  !     Was  this  easy  ? 
May  this  be  wash'd  in  Lethe,  and  forgotten  ? 

Ch.  Just.     I  then  did  use  the  person  of  your 

father ; 

The  image  of  his  power  lay  then  in  me : 
And,  in  the  administration  of  his  law, 
Whiles  I  was  busy  for  the  commonwealth, 
Your  highness  pleased  to  forget  my  place, 
The  majesty  and  power  of  law  and  justice, 
The  image  of  the  king  whom  I  presented, 


110          KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH    [ACT  FIVE 

so  And  struck  me  in  my  very  seat  of  judgement; 
Whereon,  as  an  offender  to  your  father, 
I  gave  hold  way  to  my  authority 
And  did  commit  you.     If  the  deed  were  ill, 
Be  you  contented,  wearing  now  the  garland, 
To  have  a  son  set  your  decrees  at  nought, 
To  pluck  down  justice  from  your  awful  bench, 
To  trip  the  course  of  law  and  blunt  the  sword 
That  guards  the  peace  and  safety  of  your  person ; 
Nay,  more,  to  spurn  at  your  most  royal  image 

go  And  mock  your  workings  in  a  second  body. 
Question  your  royal  thoughts,  make  the  case  yours ; 
Be  now  the  father  and  propose  a  son, 
Hear  your  own  dignity  so  much  profaned, 
See  your  most  dreadful  laws  so  loosely  slighted, 
Behold  yourself  so  by  a  son  disdain'd ; 
And  then  imagine  me  taking  your  part 
And  in  your  power  soft  silencing  your  son  : 
After  this  cold  considerance,  sentence  me ; 
And,  as  you  are  a  king,  speak  in  your  state 

100  What  I  have  done  that  misbecame  my  place, 
My  person,  or  my  liege's  sovereignty. 

King.     You  are  right,  justice,  and  you  weigh 

this  well ; 

Therefore  still  bear  the  balance  and  the  sword  : 
And  I  do  wish  your  honours  may  increase, 
Till  you  do  live  to  see  a  son  of  mine 
Offend  you  and  obey  you,  as  I  did. 
So  shall  I  live  to  speak  my  father's  words : 
"  Happy  am  I,  that  have  a  man  so  bold, 
That  dares  do  justice  on  my  proper  son ; 

no  And  not  less  happy,  having  such  a  son, 


SCENE  Two]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      111 

That  would  deliver  up  his  greatness  so 

Into  the  hands  of  justice."     You  did  commit  me : 

For  which,  I  do  commit  into  your  hand 

The  unstained  sword  that  you  have  used  to  bear ; 

With  this  remembrance,  that  you  use  the  same 

With  the  like  bold,  just  and  impartial  spirit 

As  you  have  done  'gainst  me.     There  is  my  hand. 

You  shall  be  as  a  father  to  my  youth : 

My  voice  shall  sound  as  you  do  prompt  mine  ear, 

And  I  will  stoop  and  humble  my  intents  120 

To  your  well-practised  wise  directions. 

And,  princes  all,  believe  me,  I  beseech  you ; 

My  father  is  gone  wild  into  his  grave, 

For  in  his  tomb  lie  my  affections ; 

And  with  his  spirit  sadly  I  survive, 

To  mock  the  expectation  of  the  world, 

To  frustrate  prophecies  and  to  raze  out 

Rotten  opinion,  who  hath  writ  me  down 

After  my  seeming.     The  tide  of  blood  in  me 

Hath  proudly  flow'd  in  vanity  till  now :  130 

Now  doth  it  turn  and  ebb  back  to  the  sea, 

Where  it  shall  mingle  with  the  state  of  floods 

And  flow  henceforth  in  formal  majesty. 

Now  call  we  our  high  court  of  parliament : 

And  let  us  choose  such  limbs  of  noble  counsel, 

That  the  great  body  of  our  state  may  go 

In  equal  rank  with  the  best  govern'd  nation ; 

That  war,  or  peace,  or  both  at  once,  may  be 

As  things  acquainted  and  familiar  to  us ; 

In  which  you,  father,  shall  have  foremost  hand.        i*o 

Our  coronation  done,  we  will  accite, 

As  I  before  remember'd,  all  our  state  :  • _rf  * 


112         KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FIVE 

And,  God  consigning  to  my  good  intents, 

No  prince  nor  peer  shall  have  just  cause  to  say, 

God  shorten  Harry's  happy  life  one  day  !    [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III  —  Gloucester  shire.     SHALLOW'S 
orchard 

Enter   FALSTAFF,    SHALLOW,    SILENCE,    DAVY, 
BARDOLPH,  and  the  Page 

Shot.  Nay,  you  shall  see  my  orchard,  where, 
in  an  arbour,  we  will  eat  a  last  year's  pippin 
of  my  own  grafting,  with  a  dish  of  caraways, 
and  so  forth :  come,  cousin  Silence :  and  then 
to  bed. 

Fal.  'Fore  God,  you  have  here  a  goodly  dwell- 
ing and  a  rich. 

Shal.     Barren,    barren,    barren ;     beggars    all, 
beggars  all,  Sir  John :    marry,  good  air.     Spread, 
10  Davy  ;   spread,  Davy  :   well  said,  Davy. 

Fal.  This  Davy  serves  you  for  good  uses; 
he  is  your  serving-man  and  your  husband. 

Shal.  A  good  varlet,  a  good  varlet,  a  very 
good  varlet,  Sir  John :  by  the  mass,  I  have 
drunk  too  much  sack  at  supper :  a  good  varlet. 
Now  sit  down,  now  sit  down  :  come,  cousin. 

Sil.     Ah,  sirrah  !  quoth-a,  we  shall 

Do  nothing  but  eat,  and  make  good  cheer, 

[Singing; 

And  praise  God  for  the  merry  year ; 
20  When  flesh  is  cheap  and  females  dear, 

And  lusty  lads  roam  here  and  there 

So  merrily, 
And  ever  among  so  merrily. 


SCENE  THREE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH    113 

Fal.     There  's    a    merry  heart !     Good  Master 
Silence,  I  '11  give  you  a  health  for  that  anon. 

Shal.     Give      Master     Bardolph    some     wine, 
Davy. 

Davy.     Sweet  sir,  sit ;    I  '11  be  with  you  anon ; 
most  sweet  sir,   sit.     Master  page,   good  master 
page,    sit.     Preface !     What   you   want   in   meat,  31 
we  '11  have  in  drink :    but  you  must  bear ;    the 
heart's  all.  [Exit. 

Shal.     Be  merry,  Master  Bardolph ;    and,  my 
little  soldier  there,  be  merry. 

SU.     Be  merry,  be  merry,  my  wife  has  all ; 

[Singing. 

For  women  are  shrews,  both  short  and  tall : 
'T  is  merry  in  hall  when  beards  wag  all, 

And  welcome  merry  Shrove-tide. 
Be  merry,  be  merry. 

Fal.     I  did  not  think  Master  Silence  had  beenw 
a  man  of  this  mettle. 

Sil.     Who,  I?     I  have  been  merry  twice  and 
once  ere  now. 

Re-enter  DAVY 

Davy.     There  's  a  dish  of  leather-coats  for  you. 

[To  Bardolph. 
Shal.     Davy ! 

Davy.     Your  worship  !     I  '11  be  with  you  straight 
[to  Bardolph].     A  cup  of  wine,  sir  ? 

Sil.     A  cup  of  wine  that 's  brisk  and  fine, 

[Singing. 
And  drink  unto  the  leman  mine ; 

And  a  merry  heart  lives  long-a.  50 

Fal.     Well  said,  Master  Silence. 


114          KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [ ACT  FIVE 

Sil.     An  we  shall  be  merry,  now  comes  in  the 
sweet  o*  the  night. 

Fal.     Health    and    long    life    to    you,    Master 
Silence. 

Sil.     Fill  the  cup,  and  let  it  come ;          [Singing. 

I  '11  pledge  you  a  mile  to  the  bottom. 
Shot.     Honest     Bardolph,     welcome :      if    thou 
wantest  any  thing,  and  wilt  not  call,  beshrew  thy 
eo  heart.     Welcome,  my  little  tiny  thief  [to  the  Page], 
and  welcome  indeed   too.     I  '11  drink  to   Master 
Bardolph,  and  to  all  the  cavaleros  about  London. 
Dairy.     I  hope  to  see  London  once  ere  I  die. 
Bard.     An  I  might  see  you  there,  Davy,  — 
Shot.     By  the  mass,  you  '11  crack  a  quart  to- 
gether, ha  !  will  you  not,  Master  Bardolph  ? 
Bard.     Yea,  sir,  in  a  pottle-pot. 
Shal.     By    God's   liggens,    I    thank   thee :     the 
70  knave  will  stick  by  thee,  I  can  assure  thee  that. 
A'  will  not  out ;  he  is  true  bred. 
Bard.     And  I  '11  stick  by  him,  sir. 
Shal.     Why,    there    spoke    a    king.     Lack    no- 
thing :      be     merry.     [Knocking     within.}     Look 
who  's  at  door  there,  ho  !  who  knocks  ?  [Exit  Davy. 
Fal.     Why,  now  you  have  done  me  right. 

[To  Silence,  seeing  him  take  off  a  bumper. 
Sil.  Do  me  right,  [Singing. 

And  dub  me  knight : 

Samingo. 
so  Is  't  not  so  ? 
Fal.     'T  is  so. 

Sil.     Is't  so?     Why  then,  say  an  old  man  can 
do  somewhat. 


SCENE  THREE]     KING    HENRY    THE    FOURTH     115 

Re-enter  DAVY 

Davy.     An 't  please  your  worship,  there 's  one 
Pistol  come  from  the  court  with  news. 
Fal.     From  the  court !  let  him  come  in. 

Enter  PISTOL 
How  now,  Pistol ! 

Pist.     Sir  John,  God  save  you  ! 

Fal.     What  wind  blew  you  hither,  Pistol  ? 

Pist.     Not  the  ill  wind  which  blows  no  man  to  90 
good.     Sweet   knight,   thou  art  now  one  of  the 
greatest  men  in  this  realm. 

Sil.     By  'r  lady,  I  think  a'  be,  but  goodman 
Puff  of  Bar  son. 

Pist.     Puff ! 

Puff  in  thy  teeth,  most  recreant  coward  base ! 
Sir  John,  I  am  thy  Pistol  and  thy  friend, 
And  helter-skelter  have  I  rode  to  thee, 
And  tidings  do  I  bring  and  lucky  joys 
And  golden  times  and  happy  news  of  price.  100 

Fal.     I  pray  thee  now,  deliver  them  like  a  man 
of  this  world. 

Pist.     A  foutre  for  the  world  and  worldlings 

base ! 
I  speak  of  Africa  and  golden  joys. 

Fal.     O  base  Assyrian  knight,  what  is  thy  news  ? 
Let  King  Cophetua  know  the  truth  thereof. 

Sil.     And  Robin  Hood,  Scarlet,  and  John. 

[Singing. 

Pist.     Shall  dunghill  curs  confront  the  Helicons  ? 
And  shall  good  news  be  baffled  ? 
Then,  Pistol,  lay  thy  head  in  Furies'  lap.  110 


110         KING   HENRY  THE  FOUITH    (Act  FIVE 

Shal.  Honest  gentleman,  I  know  not  your 
breeding. 

Pist.     Why  then,  lament  therefore. 

Shal.  Give  me  pardon,  sir :  if,  sir,  you  come 
with  news  from  the  court,  I  take  it  there  's  but 
two  ways,  either  to  utter  them,  or  to  conceal 
them.  I  am,  sir,  under  the  king,  in  some 
authority. 

Pist.     Under  which  king,  Besonian?  speak,  or 

die. 
120      Shal.     Under  King  Harry. 

Pist.  Harry  the  Fourth  ?  or  Fifth  ? 

Shal.     Harry  the  Fourth. 

Pist.  A  foutre  for  thine  office  ! 

Sir  John,  thy  tender  lambkin  now  is  king ; 
Harry  the  Fifth  's  the  man.     I  speak  the  truth  : 
When  Pistol  lies,  do  this ;  and  fig  me,  like 
The  bragging  Spaniard. 

Fal.     What,  is  the  old  king  dead  ? 

Pist.     As  nail  in  door:    the  things  I  speak  are 
just. 

Fal.     Away,      Bardolph !      saddle     my     horse. 
Master  Robert  Shallow,  choose  what  office  thou 
130  wilt  in  the  land,  't  is  thine.     Pistol,  I  will  double- 
charge  thee  with  dignities. 

Bard.     O  joyful  day  ! 
I  would  not  take  a  knighthood  for  my  fortune. 

Pist.     What !     I  do  bring  good  news. 

Fal.  Carry  Master  Silence  to  bed.  Master 
Shallow,  my  Lord  Shallow,  —  be  what  thou  wilt ; 
I  am  fortune's  steward  —  get  on  thy  boots  :  we  '11 
ride  all  night.  O  sweet  Pistol !  Away,  Bardolph  ! 


SCENE  FOUR]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH     117 

[Exit  Bard.]  Come,  Pistol,  utter  more  to  me; 
and  withal  devise  something  to  do  thyself  good.  HO 
Boot,  boot,  Master  Shallow :  I  know  the  young 
king  is  sick  for  me.  Let  us  take  any  man's 
horses ;  the  laws  of  England  are  at  my  command- 
ment. Blessed  are  they  that  have  been  my 
friends ;  and  woe  to  my  lord  chief -justice  ! 

Pist.     Let  vultures  vile  seize  on  his  lungs  also ! 
"Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led?"  say  they : 
Why,  here  it  is ;  welcome  these  pleasant  days  ! 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV  —  London.    A  street 

Enter  Beadles,  dragging  in  HOSTESS  QUICKLY 
and  DOLL  TEABSHEET 

Host.  No,  thou  arrant  knave ;  I  would  to  God 
that  I  might  die,  that  I  might  have  thee  hanged : 
thou  hast  drawn  my  shoulder  out  of  joint. 

First  Bead.  The  constables  have  delivered 
her  over  to  me;  and  she  shall  have  whipping- 
cheer  enough,  I  warrant  her :  there  hath  been  a 
man  or  two  lately  killed  about  her. 

Dot.  Nut-hook,  nut-hook,  you  lie.  Come  on  ; 
I  '11  tell  thee  what,  thou  damned  tripe-visaged 
rascal,  an  the  child  I  now  go  with  do  miscarry, 
thou  wert  better  thou  hadst  struck  thy  mother, 
thou  paper-faced  villain.  10 

Host.  O  the  Lord,  that  Sir  John  were  come ! 
he  would  make  this  a  bloody  day  to  somebody. 
But  I  pray  God  the  fruit  of  her  womb  miscarry  ! 

First  Bead.  If  it  do,  you  shall  have  a  dozen 
of  cushions  again;  you  have  but  eleven  now. 


118          KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH     [ACT  FIVE 

Come,  I  charge  you  both  go  with  me ;  for  the 
man  is  dead  that  you  and  Pistol  beat  amongst  you. 
20  Dol.  I  '11  tell  you  what,  you  thin  man  in  a 
censer,  I  will  have  you  as  soundly  swinged  for 
this,  —  you  blue-bottle  rogue,  you  filthy  famished 
correctioner,  if  you  be  not  swinged,  I  Ml  forswear 
half-kirtles. 

First  Bead.  Come,  come,  you  she  knight-errant, 
come. 

Host.  O  God,  that  right  should  thus  overcome 
might !  Well,  of  sufferance  comes  ease. 

Dol.  Come,  you  rogue,  come ;  bring  me  to  a 
30  justice. 

Host.     Ay,  come,  you  starved  blood-hound. 

Dol.     Goodman  death,  goodman  bones ! 

Host.     Thou  atomy,  thou  ! 

Dol.     Come,  you  thin  thing;   come,  you  rascal. 

First  Bead.     Very  well.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  V  —  A   public  place   near   Westminster 
Abbey 

Enter  tioo  Grooms,  strewing  rushes 

First  Groom.     More  rushes,  more  rushes. 
Sec.  Groom.     The  trumpets  have  sounded  twice. 
First   Groom.     'T  will  be  two  o'clock  ere  they 
come  from  the  coronation  :   dispatch,  dispatch. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter  FALSTAFF,  SHALLOW,  PISTOL,  BARDOLPH, 
and  Page 

Fal.  Stand  here  by  me,  Master  Robert  Shallow ; 
I  will  make  the  king  do  you  grace :  I  will 


SCENE  FIVE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      119 

leer  upon  him  as  a'  comes  by ;    and  do  but  mark 
the  countenance  that  he  will  give  me. 

Pist.     God  bless  thy  lungs,  good  knight. 

Fed.  Come  here,  Pistol ;  stand  behind  me.  0, 10 
if  I  had  had  time  to  have  made  new  liveries, 
I  would  have  bestowed  the  thousand  pound  I 
borrowed  of  you.  But  't  is  no  matter ;  this  poor 
show  doth  better :  this  doth  infer  the  zeal  I  had 
to  see  him. 

Shal.     It  doth  so. 

Fal.     It  shows  my  earnestness  of  affection,  — 

I    Shal.     It  doth  so. 
Fal.     My  devotion,  — 
Shal.     It  doth,  it  doth,  it  doth.  20 

Fal.  As  it  were,  to  ride  day  and  night;  and 
not  to  deliberate,  not  to  remember,  not  to  have 
patience  to  shift  me,  — 

Shal.     It  is  best,  certain. 

Fal.  But  to  stand  stained  with  travel,  and 
sweating  with  desire  to  see  him ;  thinking  of  no- 
thing else,  putting  all  affairs  else  in  oblivion,  as 
if  there  were  nothing  else  to  be  done  but  to  see 
him. 

Pist.     'T  is    "semper  idem,"    for  "obsque   hoc 30 
nihil  est"  :   't  is  all  in  every  part. 

Shal.     'T  is  so,  indeed. 

Pist.  My  knight,  I  will  inflame  thy  noble  liver, 
And  make  thee  rage. 

Thy  Doll,  and  Helen  of  thy  noble  thoughts, 
Is  in  base  durance  and  contagious  prison ; 
Haled  thither 
By  most  mechanical  and  dirty  hand : 


1*0          KING   HENRY   THE   FOl'UTH     [Art  FIVE 

Rouse  up  revenge  from  ebon  den  with  fell  Alecto's 

snake, 

40  For  Doll  is  in.     Pistol  speaks  nought  but  truth. 
Fal.     I  will  deliver  her. 

[Shouts  within,  and  the  trumpets  sound. 
Pist.     There  roar'd  the  sea,  and  trumpet-clangor 
sounds. 

Enter  the  KING  and  Ai*  train,  the  LORD  CHIEF- 
JUSTICE  among  them 

Fal.     God  save  thy  grace,  King  Hal !  my  royal 
Hal! 

Pist.     The  heavens  thee  guard  and  keep,  most 
royal  imp  of  fame  ! 

Fal.     God  save  thee,  my  sweet  boy ! 

King.     My  lord  chief-justice,  speak  to  that  vain 

man. 
Ch.  Just.     Have  you  your  wits  ?  know  you  what 

't  is  you  speak  ? 
so     Fal.     My  king !  my  Jove !  I  speak  to  thee,  my 

heart ! 
King.     I  know  thee  not,  old  man  :    fall  to  thy 

prayers ; 

How  ill  white  hairs  become  a  fool  and  jester ! 
I  have  long  dream'd  of  such  a  kind  of  man, 
So  surfeit-swell'd,  so  old  and  so  profane ; 
But,  being  awaked,  I  do  despise  my  dream. 
Make  less  thy  body  hence,  and  more  thy  grace ; 
Leave  gormandizing;   know  the  grave  doth  gape 
For  thee  thrice  wider  than  for  other  men. 
Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest : 
6o  Presume  not  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was ; 


SCENE  FIVE]    KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      121 

For  God  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 

That  I  have  turn'd  away  my  former  self; 

So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  company. 

When  thou  dost  hear  I  am  as  I  have  been, 

Approach  me,  and  thou  shalt  be  as  thou  wast, 

The  tutor  and  the  feeder  of  my  riots  : 

Till  then,  I  banish  thee,  on  pain  of  death, 

As  I  have  done  the  rest  of  my  misleaders, 

Not  to  come  near  our  person  by  ten  mile. 

For  competence  of  life  I  will  allow  you,  70 

That  lack  of  means  enforce  you  not  to  evil : 

And,  as  we  hear  you  do  reform  yourselves, 

We  will,  according  to  your  strengths  and  qualities, 

Give  you  advancement.     Be  it  your  charge,  my 

lord, 

To  see  perform'd  the  tenour  of  our  word. 
Set  on.  [Exeunt  King,  etc. 

Fal.  Master  Shallow,  I  owe  you  a  thousand 
pound. 

Shal.  Yea,  marry,  Sir  John ;  which  I  beseech 
you  to  let  me  have  home  with  me.  so 

Fal.  That  can  hardly  be,  Master  Shallow. 
Do  not  you  grieve  at  this ;  I  shall  be  sent  for  in 
private  to  him :  look  you,  he  must  seem  thus  to 
the  world  :  fear  not  your  advancements ;  I  will  be 
the  man  yet  that  shall  make  you  great. 

Shal.  I  cannot  well  perceive  how,  unless  you 
should  give  me  your  doublet  and  stuff  me  out 
with  straw.  I  beseech  you,  good  Sir  John,  let 
me  have  five  hundred  of  my  thousand. 

Fal.     Sir,    I    will    be    as    good    as    my    word :  90 
this  that  you  heard  was  but  a  colour. 


!«*         KING   HENRY  THE  FOURTH    [ACT  FIVE 

Shot.  A  colour  that  I  fear  you  will  die  in,  Sir 
John. 

Fal.  Fear  no  colours :  go  with  me  to  dinner : 
come,  Lieutenant  Pistol ;  come,  Bardolph :  I 
shall  be  sent  for  soon  at  night. 

Re-enter  PKINCE  JOHN,  the  LOUD  CHIEF- JUSTICE; 
Officers  with  them 

Ch.  Just.     Go,  carry  Sir  John  Falstaff  to  the 

Fleet : 
Take  all  his  company  along  with  him. 

Fal.     My  lord,  my  lord,— 
100      Ch.  Just.     I  cannot  now  speak  :    I  will  hear  you 

soon. 
Take  them  away. 

Pist.     Si  fortuna  me  tormenta,  spero  contenta. 
[Exeunt  all  but  Prince  John  and  the 
Chief -Justice. 

Lan.     I  like  this  fair  proceeding  of  the  king's  : 
He  hath  intent  his  wonted  followers 
Shall  all  be  very  well  provided  for ; 
But  all  are  banish 'd  till  their  conversations 
Appear  more  wise  and  modest  to  the  world. 
Ch.  Just.     And  so  they  are. 
Lan.     The  king  hath  call'd  his  parliament,  my 

lord, 
no      Ch.  Just.     He  hath. 

Lan.     I  will  lay  odds  that,  ere  this  year  expire, 
We  bear  our  civil  swords  and  native  fire 
As  far  as  France  :   I  heard  a  bird  so  sing, 
Whose  music,  to  my  thinking,  pleased  the  king. 
Come,  will  you  hence?  [Exeunt. 


EPILOGUE]     KING  HENRY   THE  FOURTH          123 

EPILOGUE 

Spoken  by  a  Dancer 

First  my  fear;  then  my  courtesy;  last  my 
speech.  My  fear  is,  your  displeasure;  my  cour- 
tesy, my  duty;  and  my  speech,  to  beg  your 
pardons.  If  you  look  for  a  good  speech  now,  you 
undo  me :  for  what  I  have  to  say  is  of  mine  own 
making;  and  what  indeed  I  should  say  will,  I 
doubt,  prove  mine  own  marring.  But  to  the  pur- 
pose, and  so  to  the  venture.  Be  it  known  to  you, 
as  it  is  very  well,  I  was  lately  here  in  the  end  of 
a  displeasing  play,  to  pray  your  patience  for  itio 
and  to  promise  you  a  better.  I  meant  indeed  to 
pay  you  with  this ;  which,  if  like  an  ill  venture  it 
come  unluckily  home,  I  break,  and  you,  my  gentle 
creditors,  lose.  Here  I  promised  you  I  would  be 
and  here  I  commit  my  body  to  your  mercies :  bate 
me  some  and  I  will  pay  you  some  and,  as  most 
debtors  do,  promise  you  infinitely. 

If  my  tongue  cannot  entreat  you  to  acquit  me, 
will  you  command  me  to  use  my  legs?  and  yet 
that  were  but  light  payment,  to  dance  out  of  your  20 
debt.  But  a  good  conscience  will  make  any  pos- 
sible satisfaction,  and  so  would  I.  All  the  gentle- 
women here  have  forgiven  me :  if  the  gentlemen 
will  not,  then  the  gentlemen  do  not  agree  with 
the  gentlewomen,  which  was  never  seen  before 
in  such  an  assembly. 

One  word  more,  I  beseech  you.  If  you  be  not 
too  much  cloyed  with  fat  meat,  our  humble  author 
will  continue  the  story,  with  Sir  John  in  it,  and 


124          KINCi   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [EPILOGUB 

30  make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  of  France : 
where,  for  any  thing  I  know,  Falstaff  shall  die  of 
a  sweat,  unless  already  a'  he  killed  with  your  hard 
opinions ;  for  Oldcastle  died  a  martyr,  and  this  is 
not  the  man.  My  tongue  is  weary ;  when  my  legs 
are  too,  I  will  bid  you  good  night :  and  so  kneel 
down  before  you ;  but,  indeed,  to  pray  for  the 
queen. 


NOTES 

For  the  meaning  of  words  not  given  in  these  notes,  the  student  is 
referred  to  the  Glossary  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

The  numbering  of  the  lines  corresponds  to  that  of  the  Globe 
edition ;  this  applies  also  to  the  scenes  in  prose. 

INDUCTION 

Warkworth.  Holinshed  says :  "  The  king,  comming  forward 
quicklie,  wan  the  castell  of  Warworth.  Whereupon  the  Earle  of 
Northumberland,  not  thinking  himself  in  suertie  at  Berwicke,  fled 
with  the  lord  Berdolfe  into  Scotland,  where  they  were  received  of 
David,  lord  Fleming." 

Enter  Rumour,  painted  full  of  tongues.  On  the  Elizabethan 
stage  the  costuming  was  often  far  more  elaborate  than  the  scenery, 
and  "  Rumour  "  would  be  very  magnificently  represented,  in  all 
probability  with  considerable  artistic  ingenuity.  The  conception 
is  ultimately  from  Virgil  (JEneid,  iv,  181-183) : 

"  Tot  vigiles  oculi  subter,  mirabile  dictu, 
Tot  linguae;   totidem  ora  sonant,  tot  subrigit  auris." 

2.  vent  of  hearing,  aperture  or  opening  for  hearing. 

3.  drooping  west,  west,  where  the  sun  sets. 

4.  Making  the  wind  my  post-horse.     Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  7.  22-23 : 

"  heaven's  cherubim,  horsed 
Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air." 

12.  fearful  musters,  men  called  together  in  the  fear  caused  by 
rumor. 

13.  big  year,  pregnant,  likely  to  give  birth  to  war.     Cf.  Scnn  t, 
xcvii :  "  The  teeming  autumn,  big  with  rich  increase." 

17.  so  plain  a  stop,  so  simple  and  rough  an  instrument ;  "  rumour 
is  a  fife  "  upon  which  even  the  multitude  can  play. 

19.   still-discordant,  always  discordant  and  divided. 

21.  anatomize,  lay  open,  interpret  or  explain.  Cf.  King  Lear, 
iii.  6.  80-81 :  "  Then  let  them  anatomize  Regan;  see  what  breeds 
about  her  heart." 

125 


HO  KING  HENRY  THE  FOURTH      [ACT  ONB 

24.   Shrewsbury,  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury. 

28.  to  speak,  in  speaking. 

29.  Harry  Monmouth.    So-called  because  he  was  born  at  Mon- 
mouth.     Cf.  Henry  V,  iv.  7.  23-41,  where  Fluellen  compares  him 
with  Alexander  the  Great  because  the  one  was  born  at  Macedon 
and  the  other  at  Monmouth. 

31.  before  the  Douglas'  rage.  "  Rumour  "  was  less  mistaken 
than  usual  because  Douglas  had  killed  several  who  were  wearing 
the  "  wardrobe  "  of  the  king  in  order  to  appear  like  him. 

35.   hold,  stronghold. 

ragged  stone,  rugged  stone.  Cf.  Spenser,  Faerie  Queene,  i.  9. 
34,  "  the  ragged  rocky  knees." 

37.  crafty-sick.  According  to  Shakespeare's  version,  Northum- 
berland feigns  sickness  in  order  to  avoid  joining  in  the  rebellion 
which  he  had  encouraged  and  helped  to  raise ;  there  is  nothing  of 
this  in  Holinshed. 

tiring  on;  probably  means  riding  hard  without  a  pause. 

ACT  I  — SCENE    1 

8.  stratagem,  strange  or  wonderful  deed. 

9.  contention,  civil  war. 

16.   in  the  fortune  of,  by  the  hand  of. 

16.  both  the  Blunts.  One  of  the  Blunts  was  killed  by  Douglas 
(Part  I,  Act  v,  sc.  4). 

19.  the  hulk  Sir  John.  This  separate  mention  of  Falstaff  as  a 
prisoner  certainly  does  suggest  that  he  was  a  noted  person.  Of 
course  in  Shakespeare's  original  version  Oldcastle  would  be  one  of 
the  chief  people  in  the  realm. 

21.   so  follow' d,  followed  with  such  stern  resistance. 

30.  over-rode  him,  overtook  him. 

31.  furnish'd  with  no  certainties  .  .  .  ,  knows  nothing  certainly 
except  what  he  has  learned  from  me. 

37.  forspent,  exhausted.  The  prefix  for  is  generally  used  as  an 
intensive  in  a  bad  sense,  as  in  forget. 

53.   silken  point,  the  tagged  lace  supporting  the  hose. 

56.  instances  of  loss,  proofs  of  loss  and  fear. 

57.  hilding  fellow,  base  fellow,  a  groom  or  servant.     Cf.  Cym- 
beline,  ii.  3.  148-129: 

"  A  hilding  for  a  livery,  a  squire's  cloth, 
A  pantler,  not  so  eminent." 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  127 

63.  a  witness'd  usurpation,  witnesses  of  its  usurpation.  Shake- 
speare may  be  referring  either  to  rivers  or  to  the  sea,  probably  to 
the  latter,  for  which  he  often  employs  the  adjective  "  imperious." 
Cf.  iii.  1.  20,  "  In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  surge." 

66.  put  on  his  ugliest  mask.  In  the  Mystery  plays  Death  was 
represented  with  a  mask ;  the  personification  of  abstract  characters 
came  easily  to  the  Elizabethans  as  they  were  already  accustomed  to 
them  in  the  religious  drama. 

84.   suspicion,  apprehension  or  fear. 

86.  Hath  by  instinct  .  .  .  Instinct  makes  him  understand 
the  meaning  of  a  look  or  a  single  expression. 

101.  a  losing  office,  an  unwelcome  office  which  brings  him  nothing 
but  loss. 

102.  sullen  bell.     Cf.  Sonnet  Ixxi: 

"  No  longer  mourn  for  me  when  I  am  dead 
Than  you  shall  hear  the  surly  sullen  bell." 

108.  Rendering  faint  quittance,  replying  only  with  faint  sword- 
strokes. 

112.   In  few,  in  few  words ;  briefly. 

115.    best-temper' d,  finest  and  most  highly  wrought. 

118-120.  Turn'd  on  themselves.  .  .  .  Hotspur's  high-tempered 
courage  seems  to  steel  the  hearts  of  all  the  rest;  but,  his  courage 
being  "  abated  "  or  tamed  by  death,  the  rest  become  no  better 
than  lead,  dull  and  heavy,  with  an  edge  easily  turned.  Moreover, 
they  are  so  heavy  that,  the  impetus  of  flight  being  once  given  them 
by  their  fear,  they  fly  with  the  greater  speed. 

128.  Three  times  slain.      Henry   IV,   with    his   usual  politic 
cunning,  caused  several  of  his  followers  to  be  disguised  like  himself. 
Cf.  Part  I,  v.  3.  25,  where  Hotspur  says,  "  The  king  hath  many 
marching  in  his  coats,"  and  Douglas  replies,  "  I'll  murder  all  his 
wardrobe,  piece  by  piece,  Until  I  meet  the  king."     Holinshed, 
however,  says  that  there  were  four  who  were  slain  in  likeness  of 
the  king.     "  The  earle  Douglas  .  .  .  slue  Sir  Walter  Blunt,  and 
three  other,  apparelled  in  the  king's  suit  and  clothing." 

129.  'Gan  vail  his  stomach,  humbled  his  pride;    stomach  here 
means  either  pride  or  courage. 

did  grace  the  shame.  Douglas  took  to  flight  himself  and, 
in  so  doing,  seemed  to  lend  some  touch  of  grace  to  the  flight  of  the 
rest. 

138.  having  been  well.  This  phrase  goes  with  the  pronoun 
me,  i.e.  "  had  I  been  well  this  news  would  have  made  me  sick." 


1S8  KING    HENRY  THE   FOfKTH      [ ACT  ONE 

140-141.  joints  .  .  .  buckle  under  life,  his  joints  give-  way 
beneath  him  when  he  tries  to  move. 

142.  impatient  of  his  fit,  made  impatient  by  the  sudden  onslaught 
of  his  fever.  Cf.  Macbeth,  iii.  4.  41,  "  Then  comes  my  fit  again." 

146.  Are  thrice  themselves.     Northumberland  compares  him- 
self to  a  man  who  is  really  weak  from  fever,  but  who,  seized   with 
delirium,  becomes  three  times  as  strong  as  he  would  normally  be. 

nice  crutch,  weak  or  effeminate  crutch. 

147.  sickly    quoif,    the    invalid's    head-bandage    or    nightcap. 
Quoif  usually  means  a  cap  or  headdress.     Cf.   The  Winter's  Tale, 
iv.  4.  226,  "  Golden  quoifs  and  stomachers." 

149.  flesh'd  with  conquest,  made  fierce  with  conquest  as  dogs 
are  made  fierce  with  eating  flesh. 

151.    ragged'st,  roughest  and  most  trying. 

156.  to  feed  contention  in  a  lingering  act,  to  drag  out  civil  wars 
at  length. 

160.  darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  dead.    There  will  be  none 
left  alive  to  inter  the  dead,  and    primeval    darkness   alone  will 
cover  them. 

161.  strained  passion,  overstrained  grief. 

166.  you  cast  the  event  of  war,  you  risked  this  issue.  The 
metaphor  is  from  the  casting  of  dice. 

168.  It  was  your  presurmise,  you  knew  beforehand  that  there 
was  the  possibility. 

169.  dole  of  blows,  dealing  out  of  blows. 

174.  where  most  trade  of  danger  ranged,  where  danger  was 
chiefly  to  be  found.  Ci.  Hotspur's  own  speech  (Part  I,  i.  3.  195) : 

"  Send  danger  from  the  east  unto  the  west. 

So  honour  cross  it  from  the  north  to  south, 
•   And  let  them  grapple." 

177.   stiff-borne,  stoutly  contested. 

180.   engaged  to  this  loss,  involved  in  this  loss. 

182.   wrought  out  life,  escaped  with  our  lives. 

184.  Choked  the  respect,  prevented  the  consideration.  The 
word  "  choke  "  in  Shakespeare  seems  often  to  have  the  sense  of 
destroying  after  a  struggle.  Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  2.  8-9 : 

"  As  two  spent  swimmers,  that  do  cling  together 
And  choke  their  art." 

192.  the  corpse;  plural  for  "  corpses,"  here  used  in  the  sense 
of  living  but  "  spiritless  "  bodies,  —  men  whose  souls  are  not  in 
what  they  do. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  129 

196.   queasiness,  qualms  and  nausea. 

204-205.  doth  enlarge  .  .  .  King  Richard.  He  gets  more  men 
to  follow  him  because  he  claims  to  be  the  avenger  of  Richard  II. 

205.  Pomfret  stones.  In  Richard  II  Shakespeare  describes  the 
murder  of  the  king  in  Pomfret  Castle.  The  idea  that  the  blood  of 
Richard  would  exact  vengeance  haunted  both  Henry  IV  and  his 
son.  The  latter  is  afraid  of  losing  the  battle  of  Agincourt  because 
of  it  (Henry  V,  iv.  1.  309-317:) 

"  Not  to-day,  O  Lord, 
O,  not  to-day,  think  not  upon  the  fault 
My  father  made  in  compassing  the  crown  ! 
I  Richard's  body  have  interred  new ; 
And  on  it  have  bestow'd  more  contrite  tears 
Than  from  it  issued  forced  drops  of  blood : 
Five  hundred  poor  I  have  in  yearly  pay, 
Who  twice  a-day  their  wither'd  hands  hold  up 
Toward  heaven,  to  pardon  blood." 

207.  bestride  a  bleeding  land,  stand  over  the  land  in  order  to 
defend  it.  So  Falstaff  entreats  the  Prince  (Part  I,  v.  1.  121-122) : 
"  Hal,  if  thou  see  me  down  in  the  battle  and  bestride  me,  so ;  'tia 
a  point  of  friendship  "  ;  and  the  Prince  answers :  "  Nothing  but  a 
colossus  can  do  thee  that  friendship." 

209.  more  or  less,  people  of  all  ranks,  high  and  low. 

SCENE  2 

1.  you  giant;  in  humorous  allusion  to  the  small  size  of  the  page. 
So  Viola  speaks  of  the  tiny  Maria :  "  Some  mollification  for  your 
giant,  sweet  lady  "  (Twelfth  Night,  i.  5.  218-219). 

6.  owed  it,  owned  or  possessed  it. 

8-9.  foolish-compounded  clay,  man,  man  who  is  but  clay  and 
foolish  clay  at  that. 

17.  mandrake;  the  atropa  mandragora,  whose  root  was  supposed 
to  resemble  a  human  figure  and  to  shriek  when  torn  from  the  ground ; 
hence  "  mandrake  "  became  a  term  of  ridicule  for  anyone  diminu 
tive,  or  effeminate.  It  is  applied  to  Justice  Shallow  (iii.  2.  339). 
The  mandrake  was  also  supposed  to  have  magic  properties  and 
was  often  used  by  witches.  Cf .  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Queens : 
"  I  last  night  lay  all  alone  o'  the  ground,  to  hear  the  mandrake 
groan." 

18-19.  manned  with  an  agate,  attended  by  one  as  small  as  an 
image  cut  in  agate.  Cf.  Rcmeo  and  Juliet,  i.  4.  53-56: 


130  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      (Acr  ONE 

"  I  sec  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you 
.   .   .   she  comes 

In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate-stone 
On  the  fore-finger  of  an  alderman." 

28.  face-royal,  the  face  stamped  on  a  "  royal  "  or  ten-shilling 
piece. 

34.   slops,  loose  breeches. 

37.   band,  bond. 

39.  like  the  glutton.  The  story  of  the  glutton  or  Dives  and 
Lazarus  was  one  of  the  favorite  subjects  for  "  painted  cloths." 
We  notice  here  also  Falstaff's  fondness  for  Scriptural  quota  lions. 

41.  yea-f or  sooth  knave;  referring  to  the  mild  oaths   of   city 
tradesmen.     Cf.  Part  I,  iii.  1.  252-253,  where  Hotspur  rebukes  his 
wife  for  employing  the  phrase  "  in  good  sooth." 

42.  bear  ...  in  hand,  hold  out  false  promises,  deceive  with 
flattering  phrases. 

43.  smooth-pates,  the  sleek-headed    Puritanic  citizen    as    con- 
trasted with  the  curly-haired  courtier;    it  is  an  earlier  version  of 
the  term  "  round-head." 

46-46.  is  through  with  them,  has  come  to  an  agreement  with 
them. 

46.   honest  taking  up,  buying  on  credit. 

63.  the  lightness  of  his  wife.  Jests  at  the  expense  of  the  citizens' 
wives  were  a  stock  theme  in  Elizabethan  comedy. 

68.  bought  him  in  Paul's.  Falstaft*  means  that  he  hired  Bardolph 
in  the  nave  of  St.  Paul's,  where  business  was  very  commonly 
transacted. 

71.  good  service  at  Shrewsbury.  This  is  only  one  of  many 
evidences  that  Falstaff  was  not  really  a  coward.  He  said  he  would 
claim  the  honor  of  having  killed  Percy;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
as  the  preceding  scene  shows,  the  true  author  of  that  deed  was  well 
known  to  be  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Falstaff's  reputation  at  Shrews- 
bury was  not,  then,  founded  on  a  false  claim. 

93.  my  knighthood  and  my  soldiership.  Falstaff,  though  he 
mingles  so  freely  in  taverns,  is  nevertheless  proud  of  his  title  and 
position ;  he  never  forgets  that  he  has  been  the  associate  of  princes. 

102.  You  hunt  counter,  you  are  on  the  wrong  scent. 

103.  avaunt;    a    term    of    contempt    meaning    "  get    away," 
"  begone." 

110.   clean  past,  altogether  past. 

131-132.  //  hath  it  original  .  .  .  brain,  it  has  its  source  in  much 
priff,  in  anxiety,  and  distress  of  the  brain.  //  is  the  neuter  form 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  131 

of  the  genitive,  older  than  its.  Original  is  often  used  by  Shake- 
speare as  a  noun;  of.  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  ii.  1.  117, 
"  We  are  their  parents  and  original." 

133.  his  effects;  his  is  the  oldest  form  of  'the  neuter  genitive  as 
in  Anglo-Saxon.  Galen,  the  Arabic  master  of  medicine. 

141.   to  punish  .  .  .  by  the  heels,  to  lay  by  the  heels,  or  imprison. 

146.  in  respect  of  poverty.  Falstaff  is  hinting  that  the  Lord 
Chief-Justice  means  to  imprison  him  for  debt  simply  because  he 
is  poor. 

161.  against  you  for  your  life,  involving  life  and  death,  i.e. 
the  highway  robbery. 

164.  This  land-service.  Falstaff  means  that  his  military  service 
excused  his  obedience  to  the  commands  of  the  Chief-Justice. 

164.  The  young  prince  hath  misled  me.  This  is  Falstaff's 
continual  pretence.  Cf.  Part  I,  i.  2.  102-104 :  "  (Thou)  art  indeed 
able  to  corrupt  a  saint.  Thou  hast  done  much  harm  upon  me,  Hal ; 
God  forgive  thee  for  it !  " 

168.  Your  day's  service  at  Shrewsbury,  another  proof  that 
Falstaff  really  had  a  certain  claim  to  military  valor. 

171.   o'er-posting,  escaping,  getting  clear  of. 

179.  wassail  candle,  the  specially  large  kind  of  candle  used  at 
festivals. 

187.  your  ill  angel  is  light.  Falstaff  purposely  misunderstands ; 
the  "  angel  "  was  a  gold  coin  worth  about  ten  shillings ;  it  bore  the 
figure  of  the  archangel  Michael  piercing  the  dragon. 

189.  without  weighing,  i.e.  as  coins  are  weighed. 

190.  /  cannot  go,  I  cannot  tell.    A  quibbling  allusion  to  light 
coinage :  go  is  "  pass  current,"  tell  is  "  count  as  good  money." 

Virtue,  probably  in  the  Latin  sense  of  valor  or  courage. 
192.   bear-herd,  keeper  of  a  tame  bear. 
Pregnancy,  readiness  or  intelligence  of  wit. 

198.  the  heat  of  our  livers.    The  liver  was  considered  as  the  seat 
of  the  passions.     Cf.  The  Tempest,  iv.  1.  55-56 : 

"  The  white  cold  virgin  snow  upon  my  heart 
Abates  the  ardour  of  my  liver." 

199.  vaward  of  our  youth,  the  early  part  of  our  youth.     Falstaff's 
pretensions  to  youth  grow  more  and  more  arrogant  until  at  last 
the  Chief-Justice  is  compelled  to  take  note  of  them. 

207.  single,  simple  or  poor. 

213.  singing  of  anthems;  in  accord  with  his  character  as  a 
Lollard  or  Puritan.  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  ii.  3.  60-61 :  "  Shall  we 


\.',i  KING    HKNRY  THE   FOURTH       [ACT  ONB 

rouse  tin-  iiij_'ht-«.\\l  in  a  catch  that  will  draw  three  souls  nut  of 
one  weaver,"  the  weavers  also  l>eing  famous  as  Puritans. 

214.   approve  my  youth,  prove  my  youth. 

216.   caper  with  me,  dance  a  jig  in  rivalry. 

220.  checked  him  for  it,  chided  him  for  it. 

237.  never  spit  white  again,  as  a  sign  of  health  or,  possibly,  of 
thirst. 

260  251.  lend  me  a  thousand  pound.  Falstaff  sees  that  he  has 
succeeded  in  mollifying  the  Chief-Justice  and  hence  he  makes  this 
startlingly  impudent  request.  It  should  he  noted  a.s  the  exact 
sum  which  he  succeeds  later  in  (.btaining  fr<  m  Justice  Shallow. 

253.  to  bear  crosses;  a  pun  upon  the  double  u.*e  of  the  word 
crosses  as  afflictions  and  also  a.s  coins  with  a  cross  upon  them.  Cf. 
As  You  Like  It,  ii.  4.  H-14 :  "  I  should  bear  no  cross  if  I  did  bear 
you,  for  I  think  you  have  no  money  in  your  purse." 

255.  three-man  beetle,  a  rammer  requiring  three  men  to 
manipulate  it. 

269.  both  the  degrees,  the  two  extremes  of  youth  and  age. 
Falstaff  means  that  he  does  not  wish  to  blame  either  old  men  or 
young  because  their  vices  bring  their  own  punishment.  Another 
possible  meaning  of  prevent  is  "  to  be  beforehand  with."  "  to  fore- 
stall." 

265  266.  lingers  and  lingers  it  out,  prolongs  it  like  a  wasting 
disease. 

269.  Mistress  Ursula;  apparently  Mrs.  Quickly. 

275.  /  have  the  wars  for  my  colour;  he  means  that,  even  if  he 
does  go  lame,  a  wound  obtained  in  the  wars  can  be  suggested  as  the 
obvious  reason. 

277-278.  turn  diseases  to  commodity.  Falstaff  means  that  he 
can  make  a  profit  even  out  of  his  diseases. 

SCENE   3 

3.    hopes,  prospects. 

5.  well  allow  the  occasion.  Mowbray  is  satisfied  that  they  have 
sufTicient  cause  for  rebellion,  but  not  that  their  power  is  sufficient 
to  effect  it. 

10.   upon  the  file,  upon  the  list.     Cf.  Macbeth,  iii.  1.  10i-103: 

"  Now,  if  you  have  a  station  in  the  file 
Not  i'  the  worst  rank  of  mankind,  say  *t." 

14.  incensed  fire  of  injuries;  he  has  great  injuries  which  are 
increased  or  "  incensed  "  bv  the  death  of  his  son. 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  133 

27.  lined  himself  with  hope,  stuffed  or  supported  himself  with 
hope.  Cf.  Macbeth  i.  3.  111-113. 

29-30.  Flattering  himself  .  .  .  thoughts.  He  flattered  himself 
in  the  idea  of  a  force  which  was,  in  reality,  much  smaller  than  his 
least  ambitious  thoughts  had  guessed  it. 

32.  powers,  men. 

33.  winking,  closing  his  eyes,  blinding  himself.     Cf.  Hamlet,  ii. 
8.  136-137: 

"  If  I  had  play'd  the  desk  or  table-book, 
Or  given  my  heart  a  winking,  mute  and  dumb." 

36.  forms  of  hope,  probable  issues  which  are  also  favorable. 

37.  Indeed.      This  word  is   the  reading  of  the  Folio;  but  it 
makes  no  sense.     A  suggested  emendation  is  induced. 

37-11.  a  cause  on  foot  .  .  .  bite  them,  the  issue  of  war  is  always 
doubtful  while  the  war  itself  is  in  progress ;  it  is  as  uncertain  as 
buds  in  spring  for,  however  flourishing  they  may  appear,  it  is  pos- 
sible that  frosts  will  blight  them. 

42.   the  model,  the  plan. 

47.  offices,  rooms  for  servants.  Cf.  Macbeth,  ii.  1.  13-14: 
"  He  hath  .  .  .  sent  forth  great  largess  to  your  offices." 

60.  his  part-created  cost,  the  product  of  cost,  the  building 
itself. 

61-62.  a  naked  subject  .  .  .  tyranny,  nakedly  exposed  (with- 
out roof)  to  the  rain  and  to  the  hardships  of  winter. 

63.  our  hopes,  yet  likely  of  fair  birth,  our  hopes  which  still 
promise  to  have  a  good  issue. 

66.  the  utmost  man  of  expectation,  as  many  men  as  we  can 
possibly  expect. 

69.  to  us,  in  regard  to  us ;  whatever  other  forces  the  king  may 
have,  they  are  not  moving  north  for  they  are  required  elsewhere. 

71.  one  power  against  the  French.    Holinshed  says  concerning 
this :    "  The  French  king  had  appointed  one  of  the  marshals  of 
France,  called  Montmerancie,  and  the  master  of  his  crosbowes, 
with  twelve  thousand  men,  to  sail  into  Wales  to  aid  Owen  Glendower 
They  tooke  shipping  at  Brest  and  landed  at  Milford  Haven." 
The  year  was  1405. 

72.  and  one  against  Glendower.    Holinshed  says  that  the  French 
tried  but  failed  to  take  Haverfordwest  and  then  "  they  departed 
towards  the  towne  of  Denbigh,  where  they  found  Owen  Glendower 
abiding  for  their  comming,  with  ten  thousand  of  his  Welshmen. 
Here  were  the  Frenchmen  joiefullie  received  of  the  Welsh  rebels." 


134  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH      [ACT  Two 

80.  Baying  him  at  the  heels,  driving  him  to  hay. 
82.    The  Duke  of  Lancaster,  Prince  John  of  I  jinraster.    He  never 
formally  possessed  the  title. 

86.  publish  the  occasion  of  our  arms,  announce  fully  the  cause  of 
the  rebellion.     It  should  l>e  noted  that,  historically.  Archbishop 
Scrope's   relx'llion   had   been   suppressed   before   the   French   sent 
assistance  to  (ilendower. 

87.  sick  of  their  own  choice,  regretting  that  they  substituted 
Henry  IV  for  Richard  II. 

91.  fond  many,  foolish  crowd.     Cf.  Latin  menigo.     The  word  is 
often  used  as  a  noun  in  Shakespeare.     Cf.  Coriolanus,  iii.  1.  6C-C7 : 

"  For  the  mutable,  rank-scented  many,  let  them 
Regard  me  as  I  do  not  flatter." 

92.  beat    heaven    with    blessing    Bolingbroke.    This  scene  is 
described  in  Richard  II,  v.  2.  11-15: 

"  Whilst  all  tongues  cried  '  God  save  thee,  Bolingbroke ! ' 
You  would  have  thought  the  very  windows  spake, 
So  many  greedy  looks  of  young  and  old 
Through  casements  darted  their  desiring  eyes 
Upon  his  visage." 

94.  trimm'd  in  thine  own  desires,  furnished  completely  with  all 
you  desired.  The  word  trimmed  in  older  English  means  to  put  the 
finishing  touches  to  anything. 

103.  threw'st  dust  upon  his  goodly  head.  Cf.  Richard  II,  v.  2. 
28-30: 

"  no  man  cried  '  Cod  save  him  !  ' 
No  joyful  tongue  gave  him  his  welcome  home : 
But  dust  was  thrown  upon  his  sacred  head." 

110.    We  are  time's  subjects,  we  are  at  the  disposal  of  time. 

ACT  II  — SCENE   1 

Enter  Fang  and  Snare.  These  are  names  which  further  mark  the 
similarity  between  this  play  and  Ben  Jonson's  comedies  of 
"Humours"  (see  Introduction,  p.  xvii).  So  also  Shallow,  Silence, 
and  Pistol  belong  to  the  same  class.  Ben  Jonson  is  fond  of  such 
names  as  Down-Right,  Well-Bred,  Justice  Clement,  Fastidius, 
Brisk,  etc.  Shakespeare's  names  are,  as  a  rule,  less  obviously 
artificial. 

1.  entered  the  action,  commenced  the  action  for  debt  against 
Falstaff. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  135 

3.  yeoman,  servant  or  attendant  upon  a  sheriff's  officer.  This 
was  a  common  meaning  for  the  word.  Cf.  Chaucer's  Prologue, 
"  A  Yeman  hadde  he,  and  servaunts  namo." 

17-18.  foin,  to  thrust  with  a  sword. 

24.  within  my  vice,  within  my  clutches. 

26.   infinitive,  infinite,  unlimited. 

30.  Lubber' s-head,  leopard  or  libbard;    the  latter  form   was 
common.     It  is  notable  that  the  silk-mercer  has  a  signpost  for  his 
shop ;  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  much  later  such  signs  were  not 
limited  to  inns.     Addison  mentions  them  as  characteristic  of  London 
even  in  his  time. 

31.  Lumbert  street,  Lombard  Street ;  so  called  after  the  Italian 
merchants  and  bankers  who  had  settled  there. 

32.  exion,  the  Hostess's  mistake  for  action. 

34-35.  A  hundred  mark  is  a  long  one,  a  long  mark  or  score ; 
the  word  score  comes  also  from  the  cutting  of  the  mark. 

35.  A  poor  lone  woman.  The  Hostess  is  represented  as  a  widow 
in  this  play,  and  Falstaff  makes  love  to  her  and  promises  her  mar- 
riage. Yet  she  has  a  husband  in  Part  I,  for  the  Prince  says  to  her, 
"  How  doth  thy  husband?  I  love  him  well,  he  is  an  honest  man." 
Falstaff  admonishes  her,  "  love  thy  husband,  look  to  thy  servants, 
cherish  thy  guests."  We  may  suppose  the  husband  to  have  died 
in  the  meantime  or,  possibly,  this  is  only  another  discrepancy  in 
the  drawing  of  the  character. 

37.  fubbed  off,  put  off  with  worthless  excuses.  Cf.  Part  I,  i.  2. 
66-69 :  "  Shall  there  be  gallows  standing  in  England  when  thou 
art  king  ?  And  resolution  thus  fobbed  as  it  is  with  the  rusty  curb 
of  old  father  antic  the  law  ?  " 

42.  malmsey-nose  knave,  one  whose  nose  is  reddened  with 
malmsey  wine ;  a  common  term  of  abuse. 

46.  whose  mare's  dead?  A  slang  phrase  for  "what  is  the 
matter?  " 

51.  quean,  wench,  hussy ;  usually  employed  as  a  term  of  abuse. 
Cf.  The  Merry  Wives,  iv.  2.  180-181 ;  "  A  witch,  a  quean,  an  old 
cosening  quean !  "  The  word,  like  queen,  is  derived  from  A.  S 
cwen,  a  woman. 

53.  the  channel,  the  gutter  at  the  side  of  the  street,  where  refuse 
was  thrown;  sometimes  a  small  stream  was  utilized  to  carry  the 
refuse  away. 

55.  bastardly;  either  "  bastard  "  or  "  dastardly," 

56.  honey-suckle,  homicidal. 
58.  honey-seed,  homicide. 


130  KIX<;    HENRY   THE   KOI  RTH      [A<T  Two 

68.  man-queller,  man-killer,  from  A.  S.  rwellan,  to  kill.  Cf. 
Macbeth,  \.  7.  71-7«: 

"  His  spongy  officers,  who  shall  bear  the  guilt 
Of  our  great  quell  ?  " 

62.  a  rescue  or  two.    The  Hostess  mistakes  the  meaning  of  the 
word  and  probably  thinks  it  is  some  kind  of  weapon. 

63.  wo't,  wilt. 

64.  hemp-seed,  lx>rn  to  be  hanged.     Abuse  of  this  kind  appealed 
immensely  to  the  Elizabethans ;    Nashe  and  others  never  ceased  to 
taunt  the  critic,  Gabriel  Harvey,  with  the  fact  that  he  was  the  son 
of  a  ropemaker. 

66.   rampallian,  a  term  of  abuse,  signifying  a  low  woman. 

66.  fustilarian,  a  term  of  abuse  apparently  coined  by  FalstafT. 

83.  ride  thee  o'  nights,  like  the  mare.  The  nightmare  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  kind  of  fairy  who  "  rode  "  people  at  night  or  else  drove 
across  them  and  made  them  dream.  Cf .  Romeo  and  Juliet,  i.  4,  where 
Shakespeare  gives  his  account  of  Queen  Mab : 

"  Sometime  she  driveth  o'er  a  soldier's  neck. 
And  then  dreams  he  of  cutting  foreign  throats,"  etc. 

86.   vantage  of  ground,  suitable  opportunity. 
88.   exclamation,  outcry  and  abuse. 

94.  parcel-gilt  goblet,  a  goblet  partly  gilt ;    parcel  means  "  in 
small  portions  "  or  "  in  detail." 

94-96.  Dolphin-chamber;  probably  so  called  because  orna- 
mented with  dolphins;  they  make  a  good  frieze  and  are  frequent  in 
Italian  work  of  the  period. 

95.  sea-coal.     Common  coal  was  generally  known  as  "  sea-coal," 
partly  to  distinguish  it   from  charcoal,  which  was  often  used  in 
cooking,  and  partly  because  it  was  usually  carried  by  sea  from  New- 
castle. 

96.  Wheeson,  Whitsun. 

97.  liking  his  father,  likening  or  comparing  his  father. 
101-102.  goodwife  Keech,  the   butcher's  wife.     A  "  keech " 

was  a  round  lump  of  tallow  or  fat ;  this,  like  "  Fang  "  and  "  Snare," 
is  one  of  the  names  suggestive  of  occupations. 

106.   a  green  wound,  a  fresh  wound. 

109.  madam,  the  herald's  title  for  the  wife  of  a  knight.  Cf. 
Chaucer's  Prologue  : 

"  It  is  full  fair  to  been  y-elept  '  madame,' 
And  goon  to  vigilygs  al  bifore." 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  137 

111-112.    book-oath,  oath  on  the  Bible. 

115.   hath  been  in  good  case,  was  once  in  better  circumstances. 

124.  a  level  consideration,  a  just  estimate  of  the  case. 

133.  sneap,  rebuke;  used  also,  by  metaphor,  of  cold  winds. 
Cf.  The  Winter's  Tale,  i.  2.  13,  "  No  sneaping  winds  at  home." 

135-136.  make  courtesy  and  say  nothing,  bow  to  the  judge  and 
keep  silent. 

141-142.  as  having  power  to  do  wrong.  The  Chief-Justice 
means  that  the  king's  business  must,  indeed,  take  precedence  of 
all  other ;  and  therefore  Falstaff  has  it  in  his  power  to  do  wrong  if 
he  wishes. 

142-143.  answer  in  the  effect  of  your  reputation,  reply  in  a 
way  suitable  to  your  position  in  the  world. 

143.  satisfy,  pay. 

145.  Master  Gower;  probably  intended  for  the  poet,  the  author 
of  the  Confessio  Amantis  and  the  friend  of  Chaucer.  Gower  was 
greatly  esteemed  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  was  considered  a 
fine  moralist.  In  Ben  Jonson's  masque,  The  Golden  Age  Restored, 
there  appeared  the  four  poetic  teachers  of  England  —  Chaucer, 
Gower,  Lidgate,  and  Spenser.  "  Master  "  is -the  term  of  admiration 
for  a  poetic  teacher;  so  Spenser  speaks  of  "Master  Chaucer." 
Gower,  like  Chaucer,  was  a  Lancastrian. 

162.  by  this  heavenly  ground;  a  confusion  of  two  oaths :  "  by 
heaven  "  and  "  by  this  ground." 

155.  glasses,  glasses,  is  the  only  drinking.     Venetian  glass  had 
just  come  into  fashion. 

156.  a  slight  drollery,  probably   the   representation  of    some 
farcical  incident.     In  houses  of  the  better  class  tapestry  was  used 
as  a  covering  for  the  walls.     Falstaff  refers  to  it  contemptuously  as 
"  bed-hangings  "  because  he  wishes  the  Hostess  to  be  content  with 
the  much  cheaper  "  painted  cloth,"  or  even  with  the  "  water- 
work,"  which  was  probably  a  kind  of  distemper. 

The  "  painted  cloths  "  appear  to  have  been  a  perfect  museum  of 
subjects  and  sayings.  Ben  Jonson  in  his  masque,  Pan's  Anniver- 
sary, speaks  of  some  one  who  "  hath  found  it  out  in  a  painted  cloth, 
or  some  old  hanging,  (for  those  are  his  library)." 

157.  story  of  the  Prodigal,  one  of  the  favorite   subjects   for 
"  painted  cloths." 

the  German  hunting;  possibly  a  boar-hunt ;  or  it  may  refer  to 
the  story  of  St.  Hubert,  who  was  hunting  the  stag  when  he  received 
the  vision  which  converted  him.  St.  Hubert  is  a  favorite  subject 
in  German  art  and  frescoes. 


138  KING   HENRY   THE   EOIRTH     [  ACT  Two 

162.   draw  the  action,  withdraw  the  action. 

166  167.   but  twenty  nobles;    the  noble  was  worth  6s.  8<1. 

175.  hook  on.  Falstaff  desires  Burdulph  not  to  lose  sight  of  the 
Hostess ;  he  wishes  to  muke  sure  of  his  loan. 

190.  presently,  immediately. 

199.  take  soldiers  up  in  counties,  the  levy  of  the  militia  from 
each  shire. 

206.   tap  for  tap,  tit  for  tat. 

208.   the  Lord  lighten  thee  !  enlighten  thee  or  give  thee  sense. 

SCENE  2 
3.   attached,  seized  or  arrested.     Cf.  The  Tempest,  iii.  3.  5-6: 

"  Old  lord,  I  cannot  blame  thee, 
Who  am  myself  attach'd  with  weariness." 

6-6.  discolours  the  complexion  of  my  greatness,  makes  me 
blush. 

9-10.   loosely  studied,  loosely  inclined. 

21.  tennis-court-keeper.  Tennis  was,  apparently,  a  favorite 
game  both  with  the  Pfince  and  with  Poins.  In  Henry  I'  the  King 
of  France  sends  a  special  embassy  with  tennis-halls  in  order  to 
insult  Henry  by  a  jest  at  the  lightness  of  his  temper. 

27.  bawl  out  the  ruins  of  thy  linen.  The  meaning  is  that 
Poins'  illegitimate  children  "  bawl  "  in  swaddling-clothes  made 
out  of  his  old  shirts. 

30.   kindreds  are  mightily  strengthened,  families  increase. 

40.   I  stand  the  push,  I  await  the  blow  or  the  reproof. 

49.   in  the  devil's  book,  in  the  devil's  register  of  lost  souls. 

60.  obduracy  and  persistency,  stubbornness  in  evil. 

64.  ostentation  of  sorrow,  revealing  of  sorrow.  The  Prince 
means  that  he  does  not  care  to  show  his  genuine  grief  for  his  father 
in  such  surroundings  and  amid  such  company. 

62-63.  keeps  the  road-way  better  than  thine.  The  Prince 
means  that  Poins  can  always  l>e  relied  upon  to  think  as  everybody 
else  thinks  and  to  show  no  originality  of  any  sort. 

64.   accites,  summons  or  induces. 

67.   engraffed  to,  attached  to. 

72.  proper  fellow  of  my  hands,  active  and  vigorous. 

83.  pottle-pot,  a  tankard  ;   a  measure  of  two  quarts. 

86.   a  red  lattice;  marking  a  tavern  of  low  quality. 

90.  Has  not  the  bay  profited?  The  Prince  means  that  the  pag» 
is  learning  Falstaff's  peculiar  wit  from  association  with  Falstaff. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  139 

93.  Althxa's  dream.  The  boy  confuses  Althaea,  who  snatched 
the  firebrand  from  the  fire,  and  Hecuba,  who  dreamed  that  she  was 
about  to  give  birth  to  a  firebrand  (i.e.  Paris).  Like  Pistol,  the  page 
has  frequented  the  Elizabethan  theatres,  and  has  confused  the 
classical  allusions  which  he  has  heard  there  from  time  to  time. 

102.  cankers,  worms  that  destroy  roses.  Cf.  A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  ii.  2.  3,  "  Some  to  kill  cankers  in  the  musk-rose 
buds." 

110.  martlemas,  Martinmas,  the  llth  of  November ;  hence  used 
of  a  man  advanced  in  years.  It  was  also  associated  with  fatness 
and  grossness  of  body ;  hence  doubly  appropriate  to  Falstaff.  Cf . 
Spenser,  Faerie  Queene,  vii.  7 : 

"  Next  was  November,  he  full  grosse  and  fat, 
As  fed  with  lard,  and  that  right  well  might  seeme ; 
For  he  had  been  afatting  hogs  of  late, 
That  yet  his  browes  with  sweat  did  reek  and  steem." 

115.  do  allow  this  wen;  alluding  to  Falstaff  as  a  blemish  on 
his  character. 

118.  "  John  Falstaff,  knight."  Falstaff  is  exceedingly  proud  of 
his  rank,  and  often  refers  to  it. 

123-124.  he,  that  takes  upon  him  not  to  conceive,  the  man  who 
wilfully  misunderstands. 

128.  or  ...  fetch  it  from  Japhet.  The  Prince  means  that  such 
people  will  either  claim  kinship  with  royalty  or  else  boast  of  an 
almost  interminable  pedigree. 

134-135.  "  /  will  imitate  the  honourable  Romans  in  brevity." 
Falstaff  is  no  less  proud  of  his  learning  than  of  his  rank,  and  is  fond 
of  bringing  in  classical  references.  Cf.  iv.  3.  44-46. 

140.  at  idle  times,  at  odd  times. 

145-146.  Sir  John  with  all  Europe.  Falstaff  claims  a  European 
reputation  and,  in  the  original  as  Oldcastle,  he  certainly  had  some 
right  to  it. 

160.  frank,  inclosure  or  sty. 

164.  Ephesians;  a  slang  term  for  boon-companions.  Ephesus 
was  supposed  to  be  a  special  haunt  of  magicians  and  strange 
beings;  hence  Shakespeare  lays  there  the  scene  of  his  Comedy  oj 
Errors. 

186-187.  bestow  himself  .  .  .  true  colours,  show  himself  as  he 
really  is. 

189.  jerkins,  jackets. 

193.  descension,  descent,  decline. 


140  KINC;    HENRY   THE   FOl'RTH     [Act  Two 

SCENE  3 

2.  give  even  way  .  .  .  affairs,  yield  gently  to  my  grievous 
necessities. 

8.   but  my  going,  except  for  my  going. 

11.  more  endeafd  to  it  than  now,  more  deeply  pledged  even 
than  now. 

16.  There  were  two  honours  lost.  Northumberland'*  honor 
was  lost  because  he  failed  his  son  and  his  friends ;  Hotspur's  v.  .-is 
Io.st  because  he  was  conquered  in  single  combat  by  Prince  Hal.  Cf. 
Part  I,  v.  4.  77-79 : 

"  O,  Harry,  thou  has  robb'd  me  of  my  youth  ! 
I  better  brook  the  loss  of  brittle  life 
Than  those  proud  titles  thou  hast  won  of  me." 

21-22.  he  was  the  glass  .  .  .  dress  themselves,  he  was  the  model 
to  be  imitated  by  all  noble  youths.  So  Ophelia  calls  Hamlet 
"  The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form  "  (Hamlet,  iii.  1.  101). 

24.  thick,  indistinctly ;  the  next  lines  explain  what  is  meant  — 
Hotspur  crowded  his  utterance,  which  thus  became  indistinct. 

29.  in  affections  of  delight,  in  choice  of  pleasures. 

30.  humours  of  blood,  eccentricities  and  habits. 

31.  mark;  probably  means  what  is  to  be  steered  for;   cf.  Othella, 
v.  2.  2(58,  "  And  very  sea-mark  of  my  utmost  sail." 

38.  Did  seem  defensible.  Lady  Percy  means  that  only  Hot- 
spur's name  made  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury  si-em  p<:s.«-ible  at  all, 
since  the  odds  were  so  heavily  against  the  rebels. 

40.  precise  and  nice,  delicately  and  carefully. 

47.  new  lamenting  ancient  oversights,  lamenting  afresh  for 
old  mistakes.  Cf.  Sonnet  xxx,  "  And  with  old  woes  new  wail  my 
dear  time's  waste." 

62.  Have  of  their  puissance  made  a  little  taste,  have  tested 
their  power  and  seen  what  they  can  do. 

55.  for  all  our  loves,  for  the  sake  of  us  all. 

56.  So  did  your  son.     Hotspur  was  left  to  see  what  he  could  do 
alone,  without  his  father's  aid. 

61.  for  recordation  to,  as  a  memorial  to. 

SCENE  4 

2.  apple-John,  a  kind  of  winter  apple  which  grew  withered  from 
keeping. 

11.   cover,  lay  the  cloth. 


SCENE  FOUB]  NOTES  141 

13.  noise,  band  of  musicians.  The  Elizabethans  were  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  music,  and  bands  of  players  were  to  be  met  with  in 
ale-houses,  barber  shops,  and  almost  all  places  of  public  resort. 

21-22.  old  Utis,  boisterous  merriment,  outcry ;  cf .  O.  F.  huitaves, 
the  week  of  a  festival. 

25.  temperality;  probably  means  the  "  temperature  "  of  any- 
thing. 

34-36.  a  good  heart's  worth  gold.  Cf.  The  Winters  Tale, 
iv.  3.  134-135: 

"  A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 
Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a." 

36.  "  When  Arthur  first  in  court."  From  the  ballad  of  Sir  Lane  e- 
lot  du  Lake.  Cf.  iii.  2,  which  shows  that  Falstaff  and  Shallow  had 
apparently  acted  together  in  Arthur's  Show. 

40.  calm,  qualm. 

41.  sect,  sex. 

52.  our  chains  and  our  jewels.  This  may  be  meant  to  suggest 
that  Falstaff  has  borrowed  from  Doll  or,  possibly,  she  only  insinu- 
ates it  as  an  insult. 

'  53.  ouches,  ornaments  or  jewels.  In  Chaucer  the  word  means 
a  jeweled  ornament  or  a  clasp ;  its  proper  significance  is  the  setting 
for  a  jewel.  Falstaff  is  quoting  this  line  from  an  old  ballad. 

62.  rheumatic.  The  Hostess,  as  the  next  line  shows,  means 
"  choleric."  The  choleric  temperament  was  supposed  to  be  due 
to  excess  of  dryness  and  heat. 

64.  what  the  good-year !  Probably  a  corruption  of  Fr.  goufire, 
a  disease. 

69.  Bourdeaux  stuff.  Bordeaux  was  then,  as  now,  one  of  the 
great  ports  for  wine.  Chaucer  also  makes  his  merchant  bring  a 
cargo  of  wine  from  Bordeaux. 

74.  Ancient  Pistol,  Ensign  Pistol. 

91.  ancient  swaggerer.  The  Hostess  seems  to  understand 
ancient  in  the  more  common  sense  of  "  old." 

105-106.   tame  cheater,  a  slang  term  for  a  sharper. 

110.  Cheater.  The  Hostess  mistakes  the  word  for  the  honor- 
able office  of  "  escheater  "  —  the  officer  who  collected  fines  due 
the  Exchequer.  Cf.  The  Merry  Wives,  i.  3.  77-78,  "  I  will  be  cheater 
to  them  both,  and  they  shall  be  exchequers  to  me." 

137.  cut-purse  rascal.     The  purse  was  generally  attached  by 
strings,  hence  it  was  the  aim  of  the  sharper  to  cut  it  away. 

138.  bung,  pick-pocket. 

139.  chaps,  jaws,     cuttle,  cut-purse. 


14*  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [ACT  Two 

140.  bottle-ale.     Ale  was  a  loss  distinguished  drink  than  wine. 
Cf.  ii.  4.  7,  where  the  Prince  asks,  "  Doth  it  not  show  vilely  in  me 
to  desire  small  beer?  " 

141.  basket-hilt  stale  juggler,  a  juggler  who  shows  off  sword- 
tricks,  but  who  has  grown  "  stale  "  or  tiresome. 

142.  points;   probably  the  laces  that  marked  his  rank. 

162.  ill-sorted,  fell  into  evil  company ;  the  word  occupy  had 
acquired  a  very  bad  sense. 

169-170.  Pluto's  damned  lake;  probably  the  river  Lethe, 
which  Pistol  has  confused  with  a  lake. 

173.  faitors,  evil-doers. 

Hiren.  Probably  a  reminiscence  of  Peele's  tragedy,  The  Turkish 
Mahomet  and  the  Fair  Greek  TJiren.  Pistol  seems,  however,  to 
confuse  it  with  "  iron  "  and  to  think  that  it  refers  to  a  sword. 

175-176.  aggravate  your  choler.  The  Hostess  means  the  exact 
opposite — mitigate  or  assuage  your  wrath. 

177.  good   humours,  fine   ideas.     Pistol,    as   usual,    misunder- 
stands the  word. 

178.  Hollow  pamper" 'd  jades  of  Asia;  an  amusingly  perverted 
quotation  from  Marlowe's  Tamburlaine,  iv.  4.     The  stage  directions, 
run,  "  Enter  Tamburlaine  drawn  in  his  chariot  by  the    Kings  of 
Trebisond  and  Soria,  with  bits  in  their  mouths;    in  his  right  hand 
he  has  u  whip  with  which  he  scourgeth  them,  while  his  left  hand 
holds  the  reins."     Tamburlaine  says : 

"  Holla,  ye  pampered  jades  of  Asia ! 
What !   can  ye  draw  but  twenty  mile  a  day, 
And  have  so  proud  a  chariot  at  your  heels, 
And  such  a  coachman  as  great  Tamburlaine?  " 

180.    Cannibals.     Pistol  probably  means  Hannibal. 

183.  fall  foul  for  toys,  quarrel  for  mere  trifling  creatures ;  he 
may  be  referring,  with  would-be  magnificence,  to  Doll  herself. 

184-186.  very  bitter  words.  The  Hostess  is  impressed  with  the 
large  number  of  incomprehensible  phrases. 

188-189.  give  crowns  like  pins;  probably  another  allusion  to 
Tamburlaine,  where  the  conqueror  distributes  crowns  to  his  fol- 
lowers (iii.  3) : 

"  Tech.     We  have  their  crowns  :   their  bodies  strew  the  field. 
Tamb.     Each  man  a  crown  !  Why  kingly  fought,  i'  faith  !  " 

Tamburlaine  promises  all  his  lieutenants  that  they  shall  be  kings 
in  Asia,  and  he  keeps  his  word. 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  143 

193.  feed  and  be  fat,  my  fair  Calipolis.  From  Peek's  Battle  of 
Alcazar,  where  Muley  Mahomet  says  to  his  wife,  "  Feed  then  and 
faint  not,  fair  Calipolis,"  offering  her  at  the  same  time  a  portion 
of  lion's  flesh  on  a  sword.  It  is  only  the  most  extravagant  portions 
of  the  old  tragedies  which  haunt  the  mind  of  Pistol. 

195.  "  Si  fortune  me  tormente."  It  was  an  Elizabethan  trick 
to  use  tags  from  French  and  Italian ;  this  proverb  was  current 
in  both  languages  and  Pistol  confuses  them  hopelessly  in  his 
reply. 

198.   Come  we  to  full  points,  come  to  a  full  stop. 

200.  neif,  fist.   Cf.   A  Midsummer   Night's  Dream,  iv.   1.    20, 
"  Give  me  your  neaf,  Mounsieur  Mustardseed." 

201.  seen  the  seven  stars,  seen  the  Pleiades;  i.e.  spent  many 
nights  together;    cf.  iii.  2.  228-229. 

205.  Galloway  nags,  common  horses. 

206.  Quoit  him  down,  throw  like  a  quoit. 

206-207.  shove-groat  shilling.  "  Shove-groat "  was  a  game 
with  a  marked  board  on  which  coins,  either  groats  or  shillings,  were 
pushed  along  to  a  given  space.  Other  names  for  the  game  were 
"  shovel-board  "  and  "  squayles." 

207-208.'  spzak  nothing,  speak  nonsense. 

210.  imbrue,  draw  blood. 

211.  death  rock  me  asleep;  a  popular  song  commonly  attrib- 
uted to  Anne  Boleyn.     The  unfortunate  queen  was  regarded  with 
great  sympathy  in  Shakespeare's  day,  being  considered  a  Protestant 
martyr.' 

213.  Untwine  the  Sisters  Three.  Pistol,  as  usual,  hopelessly 
confuses  his  classical  allusions  and  speaks  as  if  the  Three  Sisters  or 
Fates  were  twined  or  bound  together.  The  "  thread "  which 
Atropos  slits  is,  of  course,  the  thread  of  human  life. 

235.   chops;  alluding  to  Falstaff's  fat  cheeks. 

250.   tidy,  prime,  in  good  condition. 

250-251.  Bartholomew  boar-pig.  Roast  pig  was  the  chief 
dainty  at  Bartholomew  Fair,  which  was  held  in  Smithfield  on  the 
feast  day  of  St.  Bartholomew,  August  24.  Cf.  Ben  Jonson's 
Bartholomew  Fair,  i.  1 : 

"  Now  pig,  it  is  a  meat,  and  a  meat  that  is  nourishing  and  may  be 
longed  for  and  so,  consequently,  eaten ;  it  may  be  eaten,  very  ex- 
ceeding well  eaten :  but  in  the  Fair,  and  as  a  Bartholomew  pig,  it 
cannot  be  eaten ;  for  the  very  calling  it  a  Bartholomew  pig,  and  to 
eat  it  so,  is  a  spice  of  idolatry  and  you  make  the  Fair  no  better  than 
one  of  the  high-places." 


141  KIN'(;    IIKNRY  THE   KOl'RTH     (Act  THREE 

266.  what   humour 's    the  prince   of?     \Vhat   is   the   Prince's 
natnn>  or  character? 

268.  pantler,  servant  in  charge  of  the  pantry.  Cf.  The  Winter  » 
Tale,  \v.  4.  5(1,  "  This  day  she  was  Ixith  pantler,  hutler,  cook." 

263.  there  's  no  more  conceit  .  .  .  mallet,  he  has  no  more  idea* 
than  a  wooden  mallet ;  he  is  a  blockhead. 

267.  flapdragons,  pieces  of  burning  stuff  swallowed  with  wine; 
the  modern  form  is  snapdragon. 

268.  rides  the  wild-mare,  plays  at  see-saw. 

269.  joined-stools,  folding  stools.     C'f.    King   Lear,  iii.  fi.  54, 
"  Cry  you  merry,  I  tcx>k  you  for  a  joint-stool." 

271.    the  sign  of  the  leg,  the  sign  over  a  bootmaker's  shop. 

271  272.  breeds  no  bate  .  .  .  stories,  makes  no  one  quarrel 
with  him  because  the  stories  he  tells  are  too  discreet  or  tame;  i.e. 
his  anecdotes  are  indecent. 

279.  have  his  ears  cut  off;  a  Star-Chamber  penalty  for  defam- 
ing royalty. 

286.    Satum;  an  allusion  to  the  age  and  white  hairs  of  Falstaff. 

288.  Trigon,  really  a  triangle.     When  the  three  chief  planets  — 
Mars,  Jupiter,  and  Saturn  —  met  in  one  of  the  fiery  signs  —  Aries, 
Leo,  or  Sagittarius  —  they  were  said   to  form  a  "  fiery  trigon.'' 
According  to  medieval  astrology,  each  sign  of  the   zodiac   had   a 
special  relation  to  one  of  the  four  elements ;    there  were  thus  three 
fiery,  three  watery,  three  airy,  and  three  earthy  signs. 

289.  Lisping  to  his  master's  old  tables,  courting  his  master's 
old  mistress. 

'  291.    busses,  coarse  and  wanton  kisses. 

297.    turtle,  a  jacket  with  petticoat  attached. 

306.    Anon,  immediately,  i.e.  in  one  moment. 

308.   Poins  his  brother,  a  brother  of  Poins. 

320.  by  this  light  flesh,  an  extension  of  the  common  oath,  "  by 
this  light." 

324  326.   if  you  take  not  the  heat,  unless  you  at  once  grow  angry. 

326.   candle-mine,  a  whole  magazine  of  tallow. 

368.  dead  elm,  i.e.  dangerous  to  anyone  who  took  shelter  near 
him  ;  the  elm  tree  had  an  ill  reputation  as  its  l>oughs  were  supposed 
to  break  easily  and  fall,  sometimes  killing  those  who  had  taken 
shelter  tinder  it.  Possibly  Poins  means  to  imply  that  Falstaff 
gives  poor  support  to  his  "  vine,"  Doll  Tearsheet. 

369-360.  pricked  down  Bardolph  irrecoverable,  put  him  in 
his  list  or  roll.  So  Falstaff  "  pricks  "  the  men  he  means  to  take 
fur  his  muster  (iii.  2) ;  some  of  them  bribe  their  release  from  service 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  145 

and   so   escape,    but  Bardolph    cannot   escape   from    the   devil's 
muster. 

361.  maltworms,  beer-drinkers,  topers. 

362.  a  good  angel  about  him.     In  the  old  moralities  it  was  usual 
to  represent  a  man  as  attended  by  two  angels,  a  good  and  an  evil 
angel,  who  made  alternate  bids  for  his  soul.     This  phrase  may  be  a 
reference  to  Marlowe's  Dr.  Faustus,  in  which  the  same  thing  occurs 
(vi) ;   the  devil  does  outbid  the  good  angel. 

373.  contrary  to  the  law.  The  sale  of  meat  was  forbidden  during 
Lent,  but  the  law  was  continually  being  evaded. 

392-393.  like  the  south  Borne  with  black  vapour.  The  south 
or  southwest  wind  was  always  considered  the  one  that  brought 
rain,  pestilence,  mildew,  and  general  ill-luck.  Cf.  The  Tempest, 
i.  2.  323-324 : 

"  a  south-west  blow  on  ye 
And  blister  you  all  o'er!  " 

408.  sent  away  post,  sent  post-haste  or  swiftly. 

413.  peascod-time,  early  summer. 

421.   blubbered,  with  eyes  and  cheeks  swollen  with  weeping. 

ACT  III  — SCENE   1 

nightgown,  dressing-gown. 

6.  Nature's  soft  nurse.    Cf.  Macbeth,  ii.  2.  37-39: 

"  Sleep  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleave  of  care, 
.  .  .  sore  labour's  bath. 
Balm  of  hurt  minds  ..." 

9.  cribs,  small,  narrow  dwellings. 

10.  uneasy  pallets,  uncomfortable  beds. 
17.   watch-case,  sentry-box. 

24.  slippery  clouds,  the  clouds  which  seem  to  hang  down  and 
mingle  with  the  sea. 

25.  hurhj,  loud  noise,  confusion. 

26.  partial,  giving  its  favors  unjustly. 

29.  means  to  boot,  every  assistance  that  can  be  of  avail. 

30.  happy  low,  lie  down,  happy  people  of  low  rank,  lie  down  to 
your  slumbers. 

42.   his,  its,  as  often  in  Elizabethan  English. 
44.   will  soon  be  cool'd.     Northumberland's  rebellion  is  com- 
pared to  a  fever  which  will  soon  be  cooled  or  put  to  an  end. 


146  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH     [Arr  THREE 

49-61.  To  see  .  .  .  Neptune's  hips,  to  see  the  sea  .shrinking 
down  to  what  appears  to  be  a  lower  level.  C'f.  Sonnet  Ixiv : 

"  When  I  have  .seen  the  hungry  ocean  gain 
Advantage  on  the  kingdom  of  the  shore, 
And  the  firm  soil  win  of  the  watery  main, 
Increasing  store  with  loss  and  loss  with  store. 

60.   ocean,  here  pronouneed  as  three  syllables. 

66.  what  crosses  to  ensue,  what  difficulties  and  miseries  to 
follow. 

60.  but  eight  years  since;  this  would  make  the  date  1407 
(see  Introduction,  p.  vi). 

63.   under  my  foot,  at  my  disposal. 

76.   thus  did  he  follow  it,  thus  did  he  continue. 

81.  Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceased,  which  repeats,  as 
it  were,  the  past.  If  a  man  observes  the  past  carefully,  he  can 
prophesy,  not  exactly  but  almost  exactly,  the  main  current  of  fu- 
ture events,  for  history  continually  repeats  itself. 

83.   the  main  chance  of  things,  the  main  course  of  event*. 

86.  lie  intreasured,  lie  as  yet  hidden,  like  the  concealed  treasures 
of  plants,  in  their  seeds  only. 

86.  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time,  are  revealed  in  the 
natural  course  of  events.     C'f.  Macbeth,  i.  8.  58-00: 

"  If  you  can  look  into  the  seeds  of  time, 
And  say  which  grain  will  grow  and  which  will  not, 
Speak  then  to  me." 

87.  the  necessary  form  of  this,  the  form  necessarily  assumed  by 
the  historical  observation. 

103.  instance,  information.  According  to  Holinshed,  Glendower 
died  in  1408-1409  (see  Introduction,  p.  vii). 

106.   unseason'd,  unseasonable. 

108.  We  would  .  .  .  unto  the  Holy  Land.  Henry  IV  always 
cherished  the  idea  of  going  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land  to 
atone  for  the  blood  of  the  murdered  Richard. 

SCENE  2 

3.  by  the  rood,  by  the  cross ;  the  word  also  occurs  in  place-names, 
like  Holyrood. 

9.  a  black  ousel,  a  blackbird.  At  the  court  of  the  fair  Elizabeth 
blondes  were  fashionable  and  brunettes  out  of  favor.  Cf.  the 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  147 

Sonnets  in  which  Shakespeare  taunts  his  mistress  with  having  hairs 
like  "  black  wires  "  (cxxx)  and  with  being  "  a  woman  colour'd  ill  " 
(cxliv). 

21.   roundly,  offhand,  without  hesitation. 

23-24.  a  Cotswold  man.  Cotswold  was  famous  for  its  races 
and  wrestling  matches.  Shakespeare  makes  another  allusion  to 
Cotswold  sports  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  i.  1.  92,  where  we 
are  told  that  Master  Page's  fallow  greyhound  was  "  outrun  on 
Cotsall." 

24.  swinge-bucklers,  rioters  and  roysterers. 

26.   bona-robas,  courtesans. 

28-29.  page  to  Thomas  Mowbray.  The  historical  Sir  John 
Oldcastle  did  actually  hold  this  position. 

33.  Skogan.    Shakespeare  probably  means  Henry  Scogan,  who 
was  a  court  poet  to  Henry  IV  and  a  friend  of  Chaucer's ;  the  latter 
addressed  a  poem  to  him  entitled  "  Lenvoy  de  Chaucer  a  Scogan." 
There  was  also  another  Scogan,  Court  Jester  to  Edward  IV,  author 
of  a  popular  book  of  jests.     Shakespeare  seems  to  confuse  the  two, 
for  the  incident  recorded  is  more  worthy  of  the  jester  than  of  the 
poet. 

34.  crack,  urchin.     We  might  observe  that  this  anecdote  of 
Falstaff  in  his  youth  is  not  at  all  in  accord  with  a  character  of 
cowardice. 

42.  How  a  good  yoke  of  bullocks,  how  much  is  a  good  yoke  of 
bullocks  worth?  Bullocks  were  still  used  for  plowing. 

61.  clapped  i'  the  clout.  The  "  clout  "  was  the  bull's-eye  of  a 
target.  Cf.  Loves  Labour  '«  Lost,  iv.  1.  136,  "  Indeed,  a'  must 
shoot  nearer ;  or  he  '11  ne'er  hit  the  clout." 

52.  forehand  shaft,  an  arrow  for  shooting  point  blank. 

63.  fourteen  and  a  half,  fourteen  and  a  half  score ;  a  very  fine 
range. 

67.  tall,  valiant,  courageous.  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  i.  3.  20, 
"  He  's  as  tall  a  man  as  any  's  in  Illyria." 

70.   backsword  man,  a  player  at  single-stick. 

72.  accommodated.  The  word  had  suddenly  become  fashionable. 
Bardolph  evidently  does  not  know  what  it  means. 

92.   like  well,  are  in  good  condition. 

95.   Surecard,  a  boon  companion. 

97.   in  commission  with  me,  i.e.  as  a  fellow  Justice. 

102-103.   sufficient  men,  men  good  enough  for  military  service. 

121.  Prick  him,  put  him  down  in  the  roll.  See  note  on 
ii.  4.  359-360. 


148  KING    HENRY  THE   FOURTH    [Arr  THREE 

122.  pricked  well  enough  before;  a  metaphor  from  "  pricking  " 
=  spurring.  Mouldy  moans  that  ho  already  has  sufficient  work. 

142.   much  of  the  father's  substance;  ironic. 

145-146.  shadows  to  fill  up  the  muster-book,  i>ogus  names  for 
which  they  would  draw  pay. 

166.  an  enemy's  battle.  A  "  battle  "  was  a  division  of  an  army. 
Cf.  Henry  V  (iv,  Prologue,  9),  "  Each  battle  sees  the  other's  umber'd 
face." 

171.   magnanimous,  great-minded  or  courageous. 

178.  leader  of  so  many  thousands;  he  alludes  to  the  vermin  in 
Wart's  rags. 

197.  gown,  dressing-gown  or  l>ed-gown. 

198.  take  such  order.     Falstaff  is  hinting  that  Bullcalf  will  not 
have  much  chance  of  coming  home.     Cf.  Part  I.  v.  3.  80-38:  "  I 
have  led  my  ragamuffins  where  they  are  peppered  :  there  's  not  three 
of  my  hundred  and  fifty  left  alive." 

213.   never  could  away  with  me,  never  could  put  up  with  me. 

228.  heard  the  chimes  at  midnight.  Elizabethan  hours  were 
much  earlier  than  modern  ones. 

236.  Harry  ten  shillings,  the  ten-shilling  pieces,  first  minted  by 
Henry  VII  and  Henry  VIII. 

238-242.  for  mine  own  part.  Shakespeare  notes  the  habit  of 
repetition  as  characteristic  of  the  slow  mentality  of  rustics;  it  is 
so  with  William  in  As  You  Like  It.  Justice  Shallow  is  marked  as 
essentially  a  rustic  by  the  same  habit. 

248.  you  shall  have  forty,  i.e.  forty  shillings. 

260  261.  three  pound;  four  have  been  offered,  but  Bardolph 
intends  to  keep  one  as  his  commission. 

276.  thewes,  muscles,  sinews. 

277.  assemblance,  semblance,  appearance. 

282.   gibbets  on,  hangs  a  barrel  on  the  sling  by  which  it  is  carried. 

289.   caliver,  musket. 

291.   traverse,  march. 

294.  chapt,  chapped.  Cf.  chopt  in  As  You  Like  It,  ii.  4.  50, 
"  the  cow  .  .  .  that  her  pretty  chopt  hands  had  milkt." 

296.  scab;  often  used  as  a  term  for  a  rough  and  poor  fellow; 
it  really  means  a  sheep  afflicted  with  the  disease  so  called. 

296.  tester,  sixpence. 

297.  not  his  craft's  master.    Shallow  means  that  the  man  baa 
no  real  control  over  his  "  caliver  "  or  musket. 

299-300.  Sir  Dagonet  in  Arthur's  show.  Sir  Dagonet  in  some 
versions  of  the  tale  is  Arthur's  court  fool  (see  Malory).  There  was 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  149 

a  famous  play  called  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur,  which  was  com- 
posed by  members  of  "  Gray's  Inn  "  and  acted  before  Queen  Eliza- 
beth in  1588.  It  was  probably  this  which  suggested  the  idea  to 
Shakespeare. 

301.   quiver,  nimble. 

319.   at  a  word,  in  one  word,  briefly. 

324.  fetch  off,  score  off,  cheat. 

329.  Turribull  Street,  more  usually  Turnmill  Street,  a  notorious 
neighborhood. 

330-331.  duer  paid  to  the  hearer  .  .  .  tribute.  Falstaff  means 
that  the  Turk  is  not  more  certain  to  exact  tribute  than  the  hearer, 
if  Shallow  is  to  be  paid  with  lies. 

337.  invincible;  probably  an  error  for  invisible;  or  else  Falstaff 
means  that  they  are  not  to  be  "  mastered  "  or  "  made  out." 

genius  of  famine,  the  spirit  of  famine  itself. 

339-340.  a'  came  ever  in  the  rearward  of  the  fashion,  he  tried 
to  be  thought  fashionable,  but  was  always  behind  the  times. 

340-341.  over-scutched  huswives;  probably  means  prostitutes 
who  are  "  over-scotched  "  or  whipped ;  another  possible  meaning  is 
"  worn  out  in  the  service." 

342-343.  fancies  or  good-nights,  titles  of  love-poems. 

343.  Vice's  dagger.  In  the  old  Moralities,  Vice  used  to  carry  a 
dagger  of  lath.  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  iv.  2.  134-136 :  "  Like  to  the 
old  Vice,  .  .  .  Who,  with  dagger  of  lath,"  etc. 

344-345.  John  a  Gaunt.  John  of  Gaunt  was  always  a  favorite 
character  with  the  Elizabethans,  both  because  of  his  own  valor  and 
because  the  Tudor  claim  to  the  crown  was  derived  through  him.  He 
plays  a  fine  part  of  admonition  and  warning  in  Richard  II. 

345.  sworn  brother,  brother  in  arms. 

349.  beat  his  own  name,  i.e.  Gaunt.  Cf.  Richard  II,  ii.  1.  74, 
"  Old  Gaunt  indeed,  and  gaunt  in  being  old." 

351.   treble  hautboy,  the  wind-instrument  so  called. 

355.  philosopher's  two  stones.     One  changed  all   metals  into 
gold,  the  other  gave  long  life  by  curing  all  diseases ;    or  possibly 
the  second  "  philosopher's  stone  "  was  the  one  that  was  supposed 
to  make  glass  malleable. 

356.  the  old  pike;  a  play  on  the  name  "  Lucy  "  (see  Introduction, 
p.  xxvii).     With  this  picture  of  Lucy  we  may  compare  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury's  character  of  "  A  Country  Gentleman  " :    "  His  travell 
is  seldome  farther  then  the  next  market  towne,  and  his  inquisition 
is  about  the  price  of  corne ;    when  he  travelleth,  he  will  goe  ten 
mile  out  of  the  way  to  a  cousins  house  of  his  to  save  charges.  .  .  . 


150  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH       [ACT  Fora 

Nothing  under  a  '  sub  pocna  '  can  draw  him  to  London,  and  when 
he  is  there,  he  sticks  fast  upon  every  object,  casts  his  eyes  away  upon 
ga/ing,  and  becomes  the  prey  of  every  cutpurse.  When  he  comes 
home,  these  wonders  serve  him  for  his  holiday  talke.  If  he  goe  to 
Court,  it  is  in  yellow  stockings." 

ACT  IV  —  SCENE  1 

2.   Gaultree  Forest,  north  of  the  city  of  York. 
9.   cold  intent,  unwelcome  and  of  chilling  effect. 
11.   hold  sortance  with  his  quality,  !>«•  in  keeping  with  his  rank. 
15  16.   the  hazard  and  fearful  meeting  of  their  opposite,  the 
danger  and  fearful  risk  of  meeting  their  opponents. 

23.  The  just  proportion  that  we  gave  them  out,   exactly  as  we 
estimated. 

24.  sway  on,  swing  on. 

30.  What  doth  concern  your  coming?  What  is  the  reason  for 
your  coming  ? 

33.  routs,  bands. 

34.  bloody  youth,  bloodthirsty  and  violent  youth. 

guarded,  adorned.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  1.  288,  "your  discourse 
is  sometime  guarded  with  fragments." 

36.   commotion,  civil  war. 

42.  by  a  civil  peace  maintained,  maintained  by  orderly  and  good 
government. 

46.  investments,  robes. 

47.  translate,   transform.     Cf.    A    Midsummer    Xighfa   Dream, 
iii.  1.  121-122,"  Bless  thee,  Bottom!  bless  thee !  thou  art  trans- 
lated." 

60.    Turning  your  books  to  graves,  i.e.  to  the  graves  of  the  slain. 

62.   a  point  of  war,  a  signal  given  by  the  blast  of  a  trumpet. 

60.  /  take  not  on  me  here  as  a  physician,  nor  do  I  claim  to  be  a 
physician. 

64.  To  diet  rank  minds  sick  of  happiness,  to  bring  a  cure  to  minds 
that  have  grown  diseased  through  too  much  prosperity. 

69.   griefs,  distresses,  grievances. 

71.  our  most  quiet  there,  our  best  peace  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
life. 

72.  by  the  rough  torrent  of  occasion,  by  sudden  and  violent 
events. 

73.  the  summary,  the  summing  up. 

80.  days  but  newly  gone,  such  as  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury. 


SCENE  ONE]  NOTES  151 

82-83.  examples  of  every  minute's  instance,  fresh  examples  of 
rebellion  which  occur  every  minute. 

87.  Concurring  both  in  name  and  quality,  which  really  is  what  it 
seems. 

90.  suborn'd  to  grate  on  you,  set  on  to  exasperate  you. 

92.  with  a  seal  divine,  by  the  presence  of  a  consecrated  arch- 
bishop. 

94-95.  My  brother  general  .  .  .  cruelty.  It  is  obvious  that 
something  has  dropped  out  between  these  lines  for  they  make  no 
sense  as  they  stand;  the  meaning  of  the  Archbishop's  speech  is 
plainly  that  he  makes  the  quarrel  for  the  sake  of  his  "  brother  gen- 
eral "  (i.e.  the  nation),  but  more  particularly  because  of  cruelty  to 
his  own  brother,  Lord  Scroop,  who  had  recently  been  executed. 

104.  Construe  the  times  to  their  necessities.  Westmoreland 
means  that  the  king  is  not  unduly  harsh,  but  is  compelled  to  sever- 
ity by  the  exigencies  of  a  particularly  difficult  reign. 

116.  Was  force  perforce  compell'd  to  banish  him.  Cf.  Richard 
II,  i.  3.  148-151 : 

Norfolk,  for  thee  remains  a  heavier  doom, 
Which  I  with  some  unwillingness  pronounce : 
The  sly  slow  hours  shall  not  determinate 
The  dateless  limit  of  thy  dear  exile." 

120.  armed  staves  in  charge,  their  spears,  i.e.  the  staffs  or  shafts, 
with  armed  points. 

beavers.  The  beaver  was  the  front  part  or  faceguard  of  the 
helmet.  Cf.  Hamlet,  i.  2.  229-230 : 

"  Ham.     Then  saw  you  not  his  face  ? 
Hor.     O,  yes,  my  Lord;  he  wore  his  beaver  up." 

125.  warder,  truncheon;    a  staff  of  command.     Richard  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly  stopped  the  combat  between  Bolingbroke 
and  the  elder  Mowbray ;  he  banished  the  former  for  ten  years  and 
the  latter  for  life. 

126.  his  own  life  hung  upon  the  staff  he  threw,  because,  by 
banishing  his  most  faithful  adherent  —  Mowbray  —  in  the  vain 
effort  to  stifle  faction,  he  gave  free  rein  to  his  enemies. 

128.  by  indictment  and  by  dint  of  sword,  by  legal  process  and 
also  by  battle. 

135.  He  ne'er  had  borne  it,  he  would  not  have  been  permitted 
to  survive. 

145.   set  off,  ignored  and  pardoned. 


1.V2  KINT,   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       [ACT  FOUB 

147.  forced  us  to  compel  this  offer,  driven  us  into  rebellion. 

149.  you  overween,  you  an-  too  proud. 

151.   within  a  ken,  within  a  .short  distance. 

164.  Our  battle  is  more  full  of  names,  our  army  contains  far 
more  men  of  note  than  yours. 

161.   handling;   here  pronounced  in  three  syllables. 

163.  In  very  ample  virtue  of  his  father,  with  full  powers  granted 
him  by  his  father. 

166.  That  is  intended  in  the  general's  name,  that  is  implied  in 
the  very  title  of  General. 

167.  /  muse  .  .  .  question,  I  wonder  that  you  ask  so  trifling 
a  question. 

172.  that  are  insinew'd  to  this  action,  who  are  allied  with  us,  who 
make  us  strong. 

173.  true  substantial  form,  i.e.  form  of  pardon. 

174-175.  and  present  execution  .  .  .  confined,  the  immediate 
execution  of  our  wishes  being  granted  to  us  and  to  our  demands. 

176.  our  awful  banks,  the  limits  of  awe  and  reverence  to  the  king. 

177.  knit  our  powers  to  the  arm  of  peace,  strengthen  the  peace 
by  devoting  our  forces  to  maintain  it. 

180.  which  God  so  frame,  which  God  so  ordain,  or  bring  about. 
Cf.  A.  S.  fremman,  to  make  or  create. 

181.  place  of  difference,  battlefield  where  the  issue  must  be 
decided. 

183.  a  thing  .  .  .  tells  me.  Shakespeare  often  gives  Uiis  pre- 
monition to  men  about  to  die.  Cf.  Hamlet,  v.  2.  2*2-248,  "  thou 
wouldst  not  think  how  ill  all'  s  here  about  my  heart." 

187.   shall  consist  upon,  shall  insist  upon. 

189.  our  valuation,  the  esteen  ,  or  rather  lack  of  esteem,  in  which 
we  are  held. 

190.  false-derived  cause,  invented  cause. 

191.  idle,  empty,     nice  and  wanton,  trivial  and  far-fetched. 

192.  taste  of  this  action;   the  king  will,  for  the  future,  always 
interpret  us  by  this  one  action. 

193.  were  our  royal  faiths  martyrs  in  love,  even  if  we  were 
faithful  to  the  king  to  the  point  of  martyrdom. 

198.  Of  dainty  and  such  picking  grievances,  of  grievances  for 
such  small  and  trifling  causes. 

199.  to  end  one  doubt  by  death.     If.  through  suspicions,  the 
king  pubs  one  man  to  death,  he  finds  that  his  severity  has  only 
caused  two  new  enemies  in  place  of  the  one  executed. 

201.    tables,  records.     Cf.  Hamlet,  i.  5.  UO-100: 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  153 

"  Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  memory 
I'  11  wipe  away  all  trivial,  fond  records." 

203.  history,  narrate  or  tell.  Shakespeare  often  uses  nouns  as 
verbs. 

205-206.  He  cannot .  .  .  present  occasion.  He  knows  very  well 
that  he  cannot  possibly  ruin  or  destroy  everyone  whom  he  suspects. 

213.  hangs  resolved  correction,  suspends  or  prevents  the  punish- 
ment which  he  has  determined  upon. 

219.  may  offer,  but  not  hold,  may  threaten  vengeance  but  be 
without  the  power  to  execute  it. 

SCENE  2 

8.   an  iron  man,  a  man  in  armor. 

10.  Turning  the  word  to  sword,  employing  the  material  weapon 
of  the  sword  instead  of  the  spiritual  weapon  of  the  word  of  God. 

11.  sits  within  a  monarch's  heart,  is  acquainted  with  all  the 
secrets  of  the  king.     Cf.  Henry  V,  ii.  2.  96-97 : 

"  Thou  that  didst  bear  the  key  of  all  my  counsels, 
That  knew'st  the  very  bottom  of  my  soul." 

14.  set  abroach,  start  flowing. 

20.  opener  and  intelligencer,  one  who  explains  and  interprets. 
22.   our  dull  workings,  the  dull  movements  of  the  mind ;  a  lack  of 
intelligence. 

26.  ta'en  up,  raised  in  rebellion. 

27.  Under  the  counterfeited  zeal  of  God,  pretending  the  motive 
of  religion. 

30.  up-swarm'd  them,  made  them  swarm  up ;  the  term  is  prop- 
erly used  of  bees  only. 

33.  in  common  sense,  as  ought  to  be  obvious. 

34.  Crowd  and .  .  .  monstrous  form,  compel  us  to  this  monstrous 
and  extraordinary  action. 

36.  parcels,  detached  items,  details.  Cf.  Aa  You  Like  It,  iii. 
5.  124-126 : 

i" 

"  There  be  some  women  .  .  .  had  they  mark'd  him 
In  parcels  as  I  did,  would  have  gone  near 
To  fall  in  love  with  him." 

38.   Hydra  son  of  war.    The  heads  of  the  Hydra  grew  instantly, 
soon  as  the  old  ones  were  lopped  off ;  so,  when  one  trouble  is 


154  KIN(;   HENRY   THE   FOrKTH       [  ACT  Put  a 

quelled,  others  immediately  spring  up  in  its  place,  war  being  pro- 
ductive  of  endless  surprises. 
46.   supplies,  reserves. 

46.  If  they  miscarry,  theirs  shall  second  them,  i.e.  there  is  one 
reserve  after  another. 

47.  success  of  mischief,  n  continual  succession  of  mischiefs  or 
calamities;    mischief  was  used  in  a  much  stronger  sense  in  older 
English,  sometimes  meaning  Satan  himself. 

61.  to  sound  the  bottom  of  the  after-times,  i.e.  to  know  what  will 
happen  in  the  future;  one  of  Shakespeare's  many  sea-metaphors. 

67.    too  lavishly,  too  loosely  or  carelessly. 

61.  Discharge  your  powers  .  .  .  counties,  dismiss  your  levies  to 
the  different  shires  from  which  they  came. 

63.  drink  together  friendly  and  embrace.  Holinshed  places  this 
speech  in  the  mouth  of  the  Karl  of  Westmoreland  :  "  '  Let  us  drinke 
togither  in  signe  of  agreement,  that  the  people  on  both  sides  maie 
see  it,  and  know  that  it  is  true,  that  we  IK>  light  at  a  point.'  They 
had  no  sooner  shaken  hands  togither,  but  that  a  knight  was  sent 
streight  waies  from  the  archbishop,  to  bring  word  to  the  people 
that  there  was  peace  concluded."  Holinshed  gives  two  versions  of 
the  interview ;  but  in  both,  it  is  to  be  noted,  he  makes  Westmore- 
land guilty  of  the  main  treachery  in  entrapping  the  rebels.  Shake- 
speare transfers  the  blackest  part  of  it  to  Prince  John,  possibly 
because  he  wishes  to  point  out  the  contrast  between  him  and  his 
hero  —  Harry. 

80.  something  ill;  another  example  of  Mowbray's  premonition. 

81.  Against  ill  chances  men  are  ever  merry.    C'f.  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  v.  3.  88-89 : 

"  How  oft  when  men  are  at  the  point  of  death 
Have  they  been  merry  !   which  their  kee|>ers  call 
A  lightning  before  death." 

82.  heaviness,  sadness,  dreariness. 
94.  peruse,  consider  or  look  over. 

96.   coped  withal,  met  with  or  fought  with. 
109.   attach,  arrest. 
112.  pawn'd,  pledged. 

118.  most  shallowly,  without  consideration  ;  lightly  or  foolishly. 

119.  Fondly,  f(x>lish!y. 

120.  scatter'd  stray,  scattered  stragglers. 

122.  the  block  of  death.  Holinshed  says :  "  The  archbishop 
and  the  earle  marshall  were  brought  to  I'omfret  to  the  king,  who  in 


SCENE  THREE]  NOTES  155 

this  meane  while  was  advanced  thither  with  his  power ;  and  from 
thence  he  went  to  Yorke,  whither  the  prisoners  were  also  brought, 
and  there  beheaded  the  morrow  after  Whitsundaie.  .  .  .  Unto  all 
which  persons,  though  indemnitie  was  promised,  yet  was  the  same 
to  none  of  them  at  anie  hand  performed." 

SCENE  3 

Holinshed  gives  no  foundation  or  suggestion  for  this  scene 
beyond  mentioning  the  name  of  Sir  John  Colevile  as  one  of  the 
rebels  executed  at  Durham. 

1.  condition,  rank. 

14.  drops  of  thy  lovers,  tears  of  thy  friends. 

16-16.   rouse  up  fear  and  trembling,  tremble  and  give  way. 

21-22.  not  a  tongue  .  .  .  name.  Falstaff  means  that  his  fatness 
makes  him  absolutely  unmistakable. 

23.   any  indifferency,  any  reasonable  size. 

26.   womb,  belly. 

37.  poor  and  old  motion;  his  movements  are  poor  (i.e.  slow) 
because  he  is  old. 

38-39.  extremest  inch  of  possibility,  with  the  utmost  possible 
speed. 

39.  foundered,  disabled  by  overriding ;  another  jest  at  his  own 
excessive  size. 

40.  travel-tainted,  travel-stained. 

62.  a  particular  ballad.  It  was  the  custom  in  Elizabethan  Eng- 
land for  ballads  to  be  composed  and  sung  at  any  particularly  note- 
worthy event  and  afterwards  sold  in  printed  form.  Cf.  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  \.  2.  214-216 : 

"  saucy  lictors 

Will  catch  at  us  .  .  .  and  scald  rhymers 
Ballad  us  out  o'  tune." 

68.   the  cinders  of  the  element,  the  sparks  of  the  air,  i.e.  the  stars. 
60-61.   let  desert  mount,  let  my  merits  be  acknowledged. 
73.   You  should  have  won  them  dearer,  it  would  have  cost  you 
more  to  conquer  them. 

89.  Stand  .  .  .  in  your  good  report,  do  me  the  favor  of  speaking 
well  of  me. 

90.  in  my  condition,  in  my  position  as  general. 
92.   the  wit,  the  intelligence. 

97-98.   come  to  any  proof,  show  any  real  sterling  excellence. 
104.  sherris-sack,  wine  of  Xeres  in  Spain. 


156  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       [ACT  Fora 

106.  crudy,  raw  and  crude. 

107.  apprehensive,  quick  of  understanding. 
forgetive,  able  to  forge  things;   imaginative  or  inventive. 
109-110.   the  tongue,  which  is  the  birth,  the  tongue,  which  gives 

birth  to  ideas. 

113.  the  liver  white  and  Pale,  a  white  or  bloodless  liver  was 
always  supposed  to  be  a  sign  of  cowardice. 

116.   the  parts  extreme,  outer  parts. 

125.  hoard  of  gold  kept  by  a  devil;  probably  an  allusion  to 
Spenser  (Faerie  Queene,  II,  vii),  where  Guyon  comes  across  a  great 
hoard  of  gold  that  is  guarded  by  the  monster  Mammon  and  his 
attendant  fiends. 

126.  commences  it  and  sets  it  in  act  and  use.    Tyrwhitt  suggests 
that  there  is  probably  an  allusion  to  the  "  Commencement  "  at 
Cambridge,  the  conferring  of  the  degree  which  gives  the  student 
the  right  to  employ  his  learning. 

131.  fertile,  fertilizing. 
133.  humane  principle,  rule  of  manliness. 
134-135.   thin  potations,  such  as  small  beer. 
140.   already    tempering;    a    metaphor    from    sealing-wax,  — 
being  already  tempered  and  prepared  ready  for  sealing. 

SCENE  4 

2.  debate,  quarrel  or  battle.  The  word  bore  a  much  stronger 
sense  in  Shakespearean  English  than  it  does  in  modern  English. 
Cf.  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  ii.  1.  115-116: 

"  And  this  same  progeny  of  evils  comes 
From  our  debate,  from  our  dissension." 

4.  sanctified;  their  swords  would  be  sanctified  for  service 
against  the  infidel. 

6.    address'd,  equipped  and  fitted  out 

6.  well  invested,  installed  in  their  offices  and  powers. 

7.  level  to  our  wish,  exactly  as  we  desire. 
27.  omit  him  not,  do  not  neglect  him. 

30.  he  is  gracious,  if  he  be  observed,  he  knows  how  to  be  gracious 
if  a  suitable  appeal  is  made  to  him. 

33.  being  incensed,  he  's  flint,  if  he  once  becomes  angry,  he  is 
vory  hard  and  stern. 

34.  as    humorous    as    winter,    as     capricious    and     change- 
able as  winter. 


SCENE  FOUR]  NOTES  157 

35.  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day,  thin  flakes  of  ice  which 
are  found  in  the  morning  on  the  surface  of  water  and  which  melt 
rapidly. 

40.  like  a  whale  on  ground,  like  a  stranded  whale.  Holinshed 
probably  suggested  this  metaphor  for  in  his  account  of  the  year 
1573-1574  he  says :  "  At  six  of  the  clocke  at  night  in  the  He  of 
Thanet  besides  Ramsgate  in  the  parish  of  saint  Peter  under  the 
cliffe,  a  monstrous  fish  or  whale  of  the  sea  did  shoot  himselfe  on 
shore;  where,  for  want  of  water,  beating  himselfe  on  the  sands, 
he  died  about  six  of  the  clocke  on  the  next  morning,  before  which 
time  he  roared,  and  was  heard  more  than  a  mile  on  the  land." 

45.  mingled  with  venom  of  suggestion,  even  if  poisonous  sug- 
gestions are  made  to  them. 

46.  force  perforce,  certainly. 

47.  though  it  do  work  as  strong;  it  certainly  refers  to  the  poison- 
ous suggestions  which  may  be  infused  into  the  minds  of  the  brothers. 

48.  rash,  suddenly  acting. 

54.   the  fattest  soil,  the  richest  and  most  fruitful  soil. 
58-59.   When  I  do  shape  .  .  .  unguided  days,  when  I  imagine 
what  the  state  will  be  like  without  guidance. 
64.  lavish  manners,  licentious  behavior. 

66.  Towards  fronting  peril  and  opposed  decay;  his  affections 
(i.e.  tendencies)  will  make  him  hasten  toward  the  peril  and  ruin  that 
will  confront  him  if  he  gives  way  to  his  licentiousness. 

67.  you  look  beyond  him  quite,  you  much  exaggerate  his  faults. 
74.  in  the  perfectness  of  time,  when  the  proper  time  has  arrived. 
77.  met e  the  lives  of  others,  measure  out  and  so  comprehend  the 

lives  of  others. 

79-80.  't  is  seldom  .  .  .  carrion,  when  the  bee  has  once  placed 
her  comb  in  the  dead  carrion,  she  is  likely  to  remain  there.  The 
king  does  not  believe  in  the  possibility  of  his  son's  reformation. 

86.  Peace  puts  forth  her  olive.    Cf.  Sonnet  cvii : 

"  Incertainties  now  crown  themselves  assured 
And  peace  proclaims  olives  of  endless  age." 

90.  With  every  course  in  his  particular,  with  every  movement 
fully  explained  in  detail. 

92.  haunch,  rear  or  latter  end. 

93.  lifting  up  of  day,  dawn  of  day. 

105.  a  stomach  and  no  food,  an  appetite,  but  no  food  to  eat. 

106.  Such  are  the  poor,  in  health,   such  are  the  poor  who  have 
their  health,  but  who  have  nothing  else. 


158  KING   HENRY   THE   FOURTH       [ACT  Fom 

119.  Hath  wrought  the  mure;  the  incessant  care  and  lalx>r  of 
the  mind  has  made  tin-  wall  of  hV.sh  .so  thin  that  life  may  soon  break 
through  and  escape. 

122.  Unfalher'd  heirs,  children  conceived  without  mortal 
fathers,  like  Merlin,  who  was  supposed  to  have  l>ecn  begotten  by  a 
demon. 

126.  The  river  hath  thrice  flow'd.  Holin-shed  says :  "  In  this 
year  (1411)  and  upon  the  twelfth  day  of  October,  were  three  floods 
in  the  Thames,  the  one  following  upon  the  other,  and  no  ebbing 
betweene :  which  thing  no  man  then  living  could  remember  the  like 
to  be  seene." 

128.   our  great-grandsire,  Edward,  Edward  III. 

SCENE  5 

2.   dull,  drowsy  or  sleep-giving. 

6.  he  changes  much;  the  sharpening  of  the  features  before 
death. 

9.  ram  within  doors;  spoken  half  in  irony  because  Clarence  is 
weeping. 

24.  ports  of  slumber,  portals  or  doors  of  slumber. 

27.   biggen,  nightcap. 

31.  scalds  with  safety,  the  armor  concentrates  heat  upon  the 
wearer  and  burns  him  even  while  it  protects  him. 

36.    rigol,  circle. 

38.   heavy  sorrows  of  the  blood,  heavy  and  serious  grief  of  heart. 

43.  Lo,  here  it  sits.  The  Prince  imagines  the  king  dead  and 
takes  the  crown  from  his  pillow.  This  action  certainly  appears 
heartless,  though  Shakespeare,  with  admirable  art,  has  made  it 
the  occasion  of  reconciliation.  In  Holinshed,  it  should  be  noted, 
the  Prince  has  really  more  warrant  for  his  action,  for  the  bystanders 
also  believe  the  king  to  be  dead  and  cover  his  face.  "  During  this 
his  last  sickness,  he  caused  his  crowne  (as  some  write)  to  be  set  on 
a  pillow  at  his  bed's  head ;  and  suddenlie  his  pangs  so  sore  troubled 
him,  that  he  laic  as  though  all  his  vitall  spirits  had  beene  from  him 
departed.  Such  as  were  about  him,  thinking  verelie  that  he  had 
beene  departed,  covered  his  face  with  a  linni-n  cloth.  The  prince, 
his  son,  being  hereof  advertised,  entered  into  the  chamber,  tooke 
awaie  the  crowne,  and  departed." 

64.  this  part  of  his  conjoins  with  my  disease,  this  action  of  his, 
so  truly  characteristic  of  him,  assists  my  disease. 

66.  falls  into  revolt,  becomes  unnatural  or  base. 


SCENE  FIVE]  NOTES  159 

71.  engross'd,  amassed  and  piled  together. 

72.  canker1 'd,  evil  or  foul. 
strange-achieved,  got  by  strange  means. 

73-74.  they  have  been  thoughtful  .  .  .  sons,  they  have  taken 
care  to  train  and  educate  their  sons. 

76.  the  virtuous  sweets,  honey  which  has  valuable  and  medic- 
inal properties. 

80.  his  engrossments;  his  stores  and  the  treasures  he  has 
amassed  do  no  more  for  him  than  this.  The  king  means  that  all 
the  pains  which  he  has  spent  in  acquiring  the  crown  turn  only  to 
bitterness  in  the  end. 

82.  hath  determined  me,  has  put  an  end  to  me,  concluded  my 
days.  Cf.  Sonnet  xiii : 

"  So  should  that  beauty  which  you  hold  in  lease 
Find  no  determination." 

84.   kindly  tears,  natural  tears. 

93.  Thy  wish  was  father,  Harry,  etc.  All  this  speech  and  the 
two  following  are  very  much  extended  by  Shakespeare  in  order  to 
make  the  reconciliation  more  touching.  Holinshed  gives  the  scene 
very  briefly.  The  king  caused  the  prince  to  come  before  him,  "  re- 
quiring of  him  what  he  meant  so  to  misuse  himself e.  The  prince, 
with  a  good  audacitie,  answered :  '  Sir,  to  mine  and  all  inens 
judgements  you  seemed  dead  in  this  world ;  wherefore  I,  as  your 
next  heire  apparent,  tooke  that  as  mine  owne,  and  not  as  yours.' 

'  Well,  faire  sonne  '  (said  the  king  with  a  great  sigh),  '  what  right 
I  had  to  it,  God  knoweth.' 

'  Well '  (said  the  prince),  '  if  you  die  king,  I  will  have  the  garland 
and  trust  to  keepe  it  with  the  sword  against  all  mine  enimies,  as 
you  have  doone.' 

Then  said  the  king,  '  I  commit  all  to  God,  and  remember  you  to 
doo  well.'  With  that  he  turned  himself  in  his  bed,  and  shortlie 
after  departed  to  God." 

104.  seal'd  up  my  expectation,  confirmed  my  expectation,  done 
exactly  as  I  had  anticipated;  the  metaphor  is  from  sealing  up  a 
document. 

110.  forbear  me,  spare  me. 

116.  drops  of  balm,  the  oil  used  in  consecrating  a  king.  Cf. 
Richard  II,  iii.  2.  54-55 : 

"  Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough  rude  sea 
Can  wash  the  balm  off  from  an  anointed  king." 


160  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH       [ACT  FIVE 

116.   compound  me,  mingle  me. 

123.  apes  of  idleness,  those  who  waste  their  time  in  idle  tricks. 
Perhaps  there  is  an  allusion  to  Spenser's  Mother  Hubbunl'a  Tale, 
which  tells  how  the  ape  ami  his  friend  the  fox  both  go  to  court. 

121.   neighbour  confines,  neighboring  countries. 

129.  double  gild  his  treble  guQt.  Shakespeare  is  very  fond  of 
puns  of  this  kind.  ( 'f.  Macbeth,  ii.  i.  55-57  : 

"  If  he  do  bleed, 

I  '11  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal, 
For  it  must  seem  their  guilt." 

132.  the  wild  dog,  license  without  any  muzzle  or  restraint. 

134.  sick  with  civil  blows,  weary  ami  cxliausted  after  the  civil 
wars. 

141.  dear  and  deep  rebuke,  piercing  and  cutting  to  the  heart. 

146.  affect,  desire,  wish  for. 

163.  i/i  medicine  potable.  Gold  was  often  used  as  an  ingredient 
in  medicine.  Cf.  Chaucer's  Prologue: 

"  Because  that  gold  in  phisik  was  a  cordial. 
Therefore  he  lovede  gold  in  special." 

169.  a  true  inheritor,  a  genuine  and  loyal  heir. 

189.  opinion,  reputation,     confirmation,  security. 

190.  soil  of  the  achievement,  disgrace  or  stain  of  the  achieve- 
ment ;  he  refers  to  the  murder  of  Richard. 

193-194.  to  upbraid  .  .  .  assistances,  to  cast  in  my  face  the 
assistance  they  had  given  me  in  gaining  the  crown. 

196.  supposed  peace,  unreal  peace.  Henry  means  that  his 
kingdom  was  always  in  a  state  of  suppressed  revolt. 

196-197.  all  these  bold  fears  .  .  .  answered,  I  have  coped  with 
the  difficulties  of  my  reign ;  but  I  have  encountered  many  perils 
in  doing  so. 

199.  acting  that  argument,  acting  and  re-acting  the  same  sub- 
ject, i.e.  civil  war. 

200.  what  in  me  was  purchased,  what  I  acquired  by  my  act 
202.   wear'st  successively,  in  due  order  of  succession. 

204.  since  griefs  are  green,  since  wounds  and  grievances  are  still 
fresh. 

212-213.  look  too  near  unto  my  state,  inquire  too  closely  into 
my  title. 

216.  with  foreign  quarrels.  Henry  V  takes  the  advice,  of  course, 
in  miking  war  against  France.  The  reader  should  note  how  char- 


SCENE  ONE!  NOTES  161 

acteristic  this  scene  is  of  Henry  IV,  who  is  politic  to  the  very  end  and 
does  not  lose  his  statecraft  or  his  cunning  even  in  the  hour  of  death. 

224.  with  more  than  with  a  common  pain.  The  Prince  is  willing 
to  take  immense  trouble  in  order  to  retain  the  crown. 

230-231.  upon  thy  sight  .  .  .  period,  even  as  I  see  you,  all 
my  earthly  occupations  are  drawing  to  a  close. 

236.  Laud,  praise. 

241.  In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die.  Cf .  Holinshed :  "  he 
willed  to  know  if  the  chamber  had  anie  particular  name ;  whereunto 
answer  was  made,  that  it  was  called  Jerusalem.  Then  said  the 
king :  '  Lauds  be  given  to  the  father  of  heaven,  for  now  I  know  that 
I  shall  die  here  in  this  chamber;  according  to  the  prophesie  of  me 
declared,  that  I  should  depart  this  life  in  Jerusalem.'  " 

ACT  V  — SCENE   1 

1.  by  cock  and  pie,  an  oath  disguised,  the  real  form  being  "  by 
God  and  pica  "  (the  Catholic  mass-book). 

14.  precepts,  summonses.  Shallow  was,  of  course,  as  Justice 
of  the  Peace,  concerned  with  such  matters. 

16-16.  sou;  the  headland  with  wheat.  The  headland  was  the 
strip  of  land  left  at  the  end  of  the  furrows,  the  place  where  the  plow 
turned.  It  was  a  custom  in  the  Cotswolds  to  sow  this  with  "  red  " 
or  spring  wheat.  Shakespeare  was  obviously  well  acquainted  with 
the  local  customs. 

19.   the  smiths  note,  the  blacksmith's  bill  or  account. 

21.   cast,  reckoned  out,  carefully  examined. 

23.  link  to  the  bucket,  the  chain  which  let  the  bucket  down  into 
the  well. 

26.  Hinckley,  a  market  town  near  Coventry. 

27.  A'  shall  answer  it,  he  must  pay  for  it. 

29.  kickshaws,  dainty  dishes  or  trifles ;  an  Anglicized  form  of 
quelques  choses.  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  i.  3.  122,  where  the  word  re- 
fers to  accomplishments :  "  Art  thou  good  at  these  kickshawses, 
knight?  " 

34.  a  friend  i'  the  court  .  .  .  purse;  a  popular  proverb.  Fal- 
staff  carefully  employs  his  favor  with  the  prince  to  work  upon 
Shallow. 

36.  will  backbite,  will  readily  slander  a  host  if  he  does  not  treat 
then  well. 

39.    Well  conceited,  witty  and  clever. 

42.    Wuliar.i  Visor  of  Woncot.     Woncot  is  the  local  pronuncia- 


l«i  KING    HEXRY   THE   FOURTH        [ACT  FIVE 

tion  of  Woodraancote,  a  village  in  Gloucestershire.  The  family 
Visor  or  Vizard  has  been  associated  with  it  since  the  sixteenth 
century.  A  house  on  Stinchcombe  Hill,  known  locally  as  "  the 
hill,"  was  also  occupied  by  the  family  of  Perkes. 

49.   countenance,  help  or  assistance. 

63-64.  bear  out  a  knave  against  an  honest  man,  take  the  part  of 
a  knave  against  an  honest  man  and  enable  him  to  get  the  better  in  a 
legal  process. 

58.  /  say  he  shall  have  no  wrong;  an  ambiguous  way  of  saying 
that  Davie  shall  wrest  the  law  as  he  desires. 

66.  welcome,  my  tall  fellow;  another  piece  of  irony  on  the  size 
of  the  tiny  page. 

70.  quantities,  lengths  or  small  portions.  Cf.  King  John,  v.  4. 
22-23 : 

"  Have  I  not  hideous  death  within  my  view, 
Retaining  but  a  quantity  of  life?  " 

73.   sernblable  coherence,  resemblance  and  agreement. 
78.  flock  together  in  consent,  behave  exactly  alike. 
80-81.   humour  his  men  .  .  .  master,  flatter  his  men  with  the  in- 
sinuation that  they  could  do  anything  they  liked  with  their  master. 
84.    wise  bearing,  wise  manners  or  behavior. 
84-85.   ignorant  carriage,  stupidity  and  folly. 

90.  four  terms,  or  two  actions,  four  legal  terms  or  two  cases. 
Falstaff  is  making  fun  of  lawyers  by  insinuating  that  one  case  will 
always  occupy  at  least  two  terms. 

91.  without  intervattums,  without  respite. 

92.  sad,  serious. 

SCENE  2 

6.   call'd  me,  taken  me. 
8.  open  to  all  injuries,  exposed  to  all  injuries. 
10-11.   do  arm  myself .  .  .  time,  I  am  preparing  myself  to  meet 
the  changed  conditions  which  I  know  are  about  to  ensue. 

13.  fantasy,  imagination.     Cf.  Macbeth,  i.  3.  139 :   "  My  thought, 
whose  murder  yet  is  but  fantastical." 

14.  the  heavy  issue,  the  mourning  children. 

16.  Of  him,  the  worst  of  these  three  gentlemen.  Warwick 
wishes  that  Henry  V  had  the  disposition  of  even  the  least  attractive 
of  his  three  brothers. 

18.  That  must  strike  .  .  .  sort,  who  must  give  way  to  despicable 
men  such  as  Pistol  and  Bardolph. 

23.   our  argument,  the  subject  of  our  thoughts. 


SCENE  Two]  NOTES  163 

31.  you  stand  in  coldest  expectation,  your  prospects  are  the  worst 
of  all. 

34.  Which  swims  against  your  stream  of  quality,  which  is  utterly 
opposed  to  your  character. 

36.  by  the  impartial  conduct  of  my  soul,  by  my  own  sense  of 
justice. 

38.  A  ragged  and  forestall 'd  remission.  This  is  a  very  difficult 
phrase.  It  probably  means  a  pardon  asked  before  the  king  would 
have  time  to  grant  it  and  therefore  received  with  contempt. 
Ragged  may  mean  either  that  the  pardon  would  be  essentially  im- 
perfect, or  that  it  would  be  granted  contemptuously  as  to  a  beggar ; 
forestalled  may  also  mean  a  pardon  that  would  in  any  case  not  be 
granted,  being  forestalled  by  the  king's  prejudices  against  the 
Chief-Justice.  The  whole  phrase  means,  "  Ask  for  a  miserable  par- 
don that  I  know  will  not  be  granted." 

48.  Not  Amurath.  The  Sultan,  Amurath  III,  strangled  his 
brothers  upon  his  accession  in  1596. 

52.  I  will  deeply  put  the  fashion  on,  I  too  will  be  deeply  sorry. 

68.  Let  me  but  bear  .  .  .  cares,  grant  me  only  your  love  and  I 
will  assume  your  cares  for  you. 

61.   by  number,  each  one  separately. 

69.  So  great  indignities,  such  great  indignities. 
71.    Was  this  easy?     Was  this  a  slight  thing? 

76.  Whiles.  This  is  the  older  form  of  the  word;  the  adverb  is 
really  the  genitive  of  the  noun  and  therefore  this  form  is  correct. 

79.  presented,  represented. 

84.  garland,  crown. 

87.  to  trip  the  course  of  law,  to  trip  up  or  disturb  the  course  of 
the  law. 

90.   in  a  second  body,  in  your  delegate. 

92.  propose  a  son,  suppose  a  son. 

98.  cold  considerance,  cold  and  calm  consideration. 

99.  state,  kingly  or  royal  position. 

102.  you  weigh  this  well,  you  judge  rightly  of  this  matter. 

103.  the  balance  and  the  sword,  the  emblems  of  Justice,  who  is 
usually  represented  with  them  in  allegorical  paintings  and  carvings. 

109.  my  proper  son,  my  own  son. 
112.  you  did  commit  me,  i.e.  commit  me  to  prison. 
115.   remembrance,  injunction  or  command. 
119.  My  voice  shall  sound  .  .  .  ear,  I  shall  speak  as  you  prompt 
me  to  speak. 
123-124.  My  father  .  .  .  affections,  my  father  has  taken  my 


164  KING   HENRY  THE   FOURTH       [ACT  FIVB 

wildness  with  him  into  his  grave,  fur  with  him  lie  buried  all  my 
former  habits  and  inclinations. 

126.  with  his  spirit  sadly  I  survive,  I  live  on  seriously  and  in  his 
spirit. 

127-128.  to  raze  out  Rotten  opinion,  to  get  rid  of  my  evil  repu- 
tation. 

132.  with  the  state  offloads,  with  the  majesty  of  the  sen  itself. 

133.  formal,  grave  and  dignified. 

135.  limbs  of  noble  counsel,  men  capable  of  giving  noble  counsel. 

141-142.  accite ...  a//  our  state,  summon  the  whole  Parliament. 

143.   God  consigning  to  my  good  intents,  God  confirming  my 

good  intentions,  i.e.  helping  or  aiding  me.     Cf.  Henry  V,  i.  1.  25- 

29: 

"  The  breath  no  sooner  left  his  father's  body, 
But  that  his  wildness,  mortified  in  him, 
Seem'd  to  die  too ;  yea,  at  that  very  moment 
Consideration,  like  an  angel,  came 
And  whipp'd  the  offending  Adam  out  of  him." 

SCENE  3 

3.  graffing,  grafting. 

a  dish  of  caraways,  comfits  made  with  caraway  seeds. 

10.   Spread,  Davy,  spread  the  cloth  or  cover. 

12.   husband,  husbandman ;  a  kind  of  steward. 

30.  Prof  ace.  Spoken  as  a  kind  of  health  before  drinking: 
"  Much  good  may  it  do  you." 

31-32.  but  you  must  bear;  the  heart's  all,  you  must  put  up 
with  my  poor  entertainment  for  the  sake  of  my  good  will.  Shallow 
speaks  deprecatingly  of  his  hospitality,  but,  in  reality,  he  thinks 
very  well  of  it. 

34.  my  little  soldier;  addressed  to  the  page. 

41.   a  man  of  this  mettle,  a  man  as  merry ;  spoken  ironically. 

It  is  notable  that  even  Shakespeare's  most  absolute  fools,  like 
Silence  and  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,  have  one  redeeming  quality  in 
their  love  of  song ;  this  was,  indeed,  a  most  widespread  Elizabethan 
trait. 

44.  leather-coats,  golden  russets ;  a  kind  of  apple. 

49.   lemon,  paramour. 

63.  the  sweet  o'  the  night,  the  best  time  of  the  night,  i.e.  that  for 
drinking. 

67.  /'//  pledge  you  a  mile  to  the  bottom,  I  will  drink  to  the  bot- 
tom, even  if  it  is  a  mile. 


SCENE  THKEE]  NOTES  165 

59-60.    beshrew  thy  heart,  mischief  upon  thy  heart. 

62.  cavaleros,  knights  or  soldiers.  It  was  the  Italian  term  of 
compliment,  used  half  ironically,  half  seriously.  Cf.  "  Cavalery 
Cobweb  "  in  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

65.  An  I  might  see  you  there,  Davy.  Bardolph  is  thinking 
joyfully  how  he  would  fleece  him. 

66-67.  crack  a  quart  together,  venture  on  a  quart  of  wine  to- 
gether. 

68.   a  pottle-pot,  holding  two  quarts. 

76.  done  me  right,  pledged  me  in  a  health. 

78.  dub  me  knight.     Malone's  note  is :    "  It  was  the  custom  of 
the  good  fellows  of  Shakespeare's  days  to  drink  a  very  large  draught 
of  wine  ...  on  their  knees,  to  the  health  of  their  mistress.     He  who 
performed  this  exploit  was  dubb'd  a  knight  for  the  evening." 

79.  Samingo;  a  mistake  for  San  Domingo,  the  patron  saint  of 
wine-bibbers. 

93-94.  but  Goodman  Puff,  except  for  Goodman  Puff.  "  Good- 
man "  is  the  same  as  "  gaffer."  Barson  may  be  either  Barston  or 
Barton,  both  villages  in  Warwickshire. 

96.  Puff  in  thy  teeth.  Pistol  misunderstands  Silence  and,  taking 
his  "  Puff  "  for  a  term  of  contempt,  flings  it  back  in  his  face. 

103.    J "outre;  a  term  of  contempt. 

105.  base  Assyrian  ;  of  ten  used  as  a  term  of  abuse  and  equivalent 
to  "  heathen."     In  despair  of  getting  at  Pistol's  news  in  any  other 
way,  Falstaff  speaks  in  the  same  strain  to  humor  him. 

106.  King  Cophetua;  a  reference  to  the  old  ballad  of  this  name. 
108.   the  Helicons.     Pistol  evidently  mistakes  Mount  Helicon 

for  the  name  of  some  nation  or  tribe. 

111.  /  know  not  your  breeding,  I  do  not  know  who  you  are. 

119.  Besonian,  a  term  of  abuse  which  really  means  a  beggar  or 
a  needy  person ;  Italian  bisogno. 

124.  fig  me;  a  "  fig  "  or  "  fico  "  was  an  insulting  gesture  made 
with  the  fingers. 

125.  bragging  Spaniard.    The  Elizabethans  always  represented 
the  Spanish  nation  as  particularly  proud  and  boastful.     So  Spenser 
in  his  Faerie  Queene,  I,  vii,  represents  Philip  II  as  Orgoglio,  the 
monster  of  pride  and  boastfulness. 

135.  Cany  Master  Silence  to  bed.  This  is  an  amusing  touch; 
Silence,  like  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek  in  Twelfth  Night,  cannot  carry 
liquor  and  is  always  the  first  of  the  party  to  become  drunk. 

137.  /  am  fortune's  steward.  Falstaff  has  all  good  fortune  at 
his  disposal. 


160  KINC,    HENRY  THE   FOI'RTH        [Arr  FIVE 

142  143.  Let  us  take  any  man's  horses.  Cruel  as  Henry's 
repudiation  is,  phrases  like  this  almost  seem  to  justify  him.  But 
.sec  Introduction,  p.  xxii. 

146.  Let  vultures  vile  seize  on  his  lungs.     Pistol  is  protwbly 
referring  to  the  story  of  Prometheus,  l>ut,  as  usual,  he  blunders. 

147.  "  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led?  "  A  fragment  of  an  old 
ballad. 

SCENE  4 

66.   whipping-cheer,  sufficient  whipping. 

8.   nut-hook,  catchpole ;   a  term  of  abuse  for  a  bailiff. 

20  21.  thin  man  in  a  censer,  as  thin  and  meagre  as  a  man  em- 
bossed upon  a  censer,  a  metal  pan  for  burning  perfumes  and  so 
fumigating  rooms. 

21.  swinged,  beaten. 

22.  blue-bottle  rogue;   an  allusion  to  the  beadle's  blue  uniform. 
24.   half-kirtles,  short  gowns;    the  kirtle  was  a  jacket  with  a 

petticoat  attached. 

25-26.  she  knight-errant ;  alluding  to  Doll's  warlike  disposition; 
perhaps  also  alluding  to  her  roving  propensities. 

28.  of  sufferance  comes  ease,  after  suffering  comes  relief. 

33.  atomy;  a  mistake  for  anatomy  or  skeleton. 

SCENE  5 
4.  dispatch,  hasten. 

7.  leer,  smile. 

8.  countenance,  approval  or  welcome. 

14.   infer  the  zeal,  show  or  reveal  the  zeal. 

23.  to  shift  me,  to  change  my  linen. 

30-31.  "  obsque  hoc  nihil  est, "  Pistol's  mistake  for  abstrue. 
The  meaning  of  the  proverb  is,  "  Ever  the  same,  for  without  this 
there  is  nothing." 

31.  't  is  ail  in  every  part;  Pistol's  mistake  for  the  proverb,  "  All 
in  all,  and  all  in  every  part." 

33.  inflame  thy  noble  liver  ;  the  liver  was  supposed  to  be  the  seat 
of  courage  and  anger. 

36.  contagious  prison.  Pistol  probably  uses  the  term  "  con- 
tagious "  without  any  very  exact  appreciation  of  its  meaning;  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  prisons  were  "  contagious  "  in  the  strict  sense  of 
the  term,  and  prisoners  often  fell  victims  to  their  poison.  So  in 
Measure  for  Measure  a  prisoner  dies  of  the  prison  fever. 

39.   Rouse  up  revenge;    probably  an  allusion  to  the  Spanish 


SCENE  FIVE]  NOTES  167 

Tragedy;  the  Ghost's  cry  of  "Awake  Revenge"  is  four  times 
repeated. 

45-46.  imp  of  fame,  scion  of  fame;  imp  first  meant  the  shoot 
used  in  grafting. 

54.  So  surfeit-swell'd,  so  swollen  with  excess  of  eating  and 
drinking. 

56.   hence,  henceforward,  for  the  future. 

66.  The  tutor  and  the  feeder  of  my  riots,  one  who  instructed  and 
encouraged  me  in  my  riotous  living. 

70.  competence  of  life,  an  income  sufficient  to  keep  you  from 
want. 

73.  according  to  your  strengths  and  qualities,  according  to  your 
power  of  amendment. 

84.  fear  not  your  advancements,  have  no  fear  for  your  advance- 
ment. 

91.   a  colour,  a  make-believe,  a  pretext. 

94.  Fear  no  colours;  usually  employed  in  the  sense  of  "  fear  no 
enemy,"  do  not  dread  his  standards. 

102.  Si  fortune  .  .  .  contenta;  apparently  Pistol's  favorite 
motto;  he  had  quoted  it  before  (ii.  4.  195),  but  in  a  form  equally 
wrong. 

106.  conversations,  general  behavior. 

112.   civil  swords,  swords  lately  exercised  in  civil  war. 

EPILOGUE 

13.  /  break,  I  become  bankrupt. 

15-16.  bate  me  some,  be  merciful  toward  me;  do  not  ask  too 
much. 

21.   will  make,  will  do  or  perform. 

29.  continue  the  story  with  Sir  John  in  it.  This  promise  is  not 
kept  literally.  Falstaff  himself  plays  no  part  in  Henry  V ;  we  are 
only  told  of  his  illness  and  then  of  his  death. 

31-32.  Falstaff  shall  die  of  a  sweat.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  his  end 
is  much  more  pathetic ;  we  are  told  that  the  king's  repudiation  has 
broken  his  heart  and  that  he  dies  of  grief. 

33.  Oldcastle  died  a  martyr.  The  Epilogue  was  probably 
appended  specially  in  order  to  make  this  retractation. 


GLOSSARY 


abated  (i.  1.  117),  lowered,  sub- 
dued, cast  down.  ().  F.  ahatre. 

abroach  (iv.  2.  14),  afoot,  ustir. 

•  Set  abroach  -  start  flowing. 
O.  F.  broche,  spit  or  spigot. 

accites  (ii.  2.  04),  induces,  urges. 

accommodated  (iii.  2.  72,  78), 
supplied. 

affect  (iv.  5.  145),  desire.  Lat. 
affectarc,  to  apply  oneself  to. 

affections  (v.  2.  124),  wild  in- 
clinations. 

agate  (i.  2.  19),  figure  cut  in  an 
agate ;  hence,  a  person  of 
very  diminutive  size. 

anatomize  (Induction,  21),  cut 
up,  dissect,  and  so  explain  in 
full.  Fr.  anatorniaer,  to  dis- 
sect. 

Ancient  (ii.  4.  74),  Ensign.  O.  F. 
ancien. 

1S7),    the   coin   so 


angel    (i.    2. 

called, 
anon   (ii.   4. 

mcdiatelv. 


HOG),  at  once,  im- 
O.  E.  on  an,  in 
one  moment. 

apple-john  (ii.  4.  21),  a  variety 
of  apple  kept  for  winter  use, 
said  to  be  in  perfection  when 
shrivelled  or  withered.  The 
name  is  probably  derived  from 
the  fact  that  the  apple  ripened 
about  St.  John's  Day. 

apprehensive  (iv.  3.  107),  ready 
to  understand.  Lat.  apprc- 
hendere,  to  lay  hold  of,  to 
seize. 

approve  (i.  2.  214),  prove,  put 
to  the  test. 

argument  (v.  2.  23),  subject  of 
discourse.  O.  F.  arguer. 

arrant  (v.  1.  35),  knavish,  mis- 
chievous, bad.  A.  S.  eargian, 
to  be  a  coward. 


assemblance  (iii.  2.  277),  appear- 
ance, look,  semblance. 

assurance  (i.  2.  36),  security. 

atomy  (v.  4.  33),  anatomy, 
skeleton.  Fr.  anatomic,  Gr. 
ai-aroM>i,  n  dissection ;  carcass 
cut  up.  d.  anatomize. 

attached  (ii.  2.  3),  arrested, 
taken  |x).sses.sion  of.  O.  F. 
attarficr,  to  attack,  fasten. 
$e«  also  iv.  2.  109. 

avaunt  (i.  2.  103),  away,  begone. 
Fr.  en  <i runt. 

balm  (iv.  5.  115),  the  oil  used  in 
anointing  the  king  for  his 
coronation.  O.  F.  baumc,  Lat. 
baUamum. 

bastardly  (ii.  1.  55),  a  confusion 
of  bastard  and  dastardly. 

bate  (ii.  4.  271),  quarrelling,  dis- 
pute, strife. 

bate  (Epilogue,  15),  bo  merci- 
ful. 

battle  (iii.  2.  1C5;  iv.  1.  15-1), 
division  of  an  army. 

bear-herd  (i.  2.  192),  keeper  of  a 
tame  l>e:ir. 

beaver  (iv.  1.  120),  movable 
front  piece  of  the  helmet. 
Fr.  baribre. 

beetle  (i.  2^  255),  v.  rammer. 
A.  S.  bytd,  mullet,  from 
bf-alan,  to  lx?at. 

big  (Induction,  1"),  pregnant, 
fruitful  of  events. 

biggen  (iv.  5.  27),  nightcap. 

bloody  (iv.  1.  34),  violent,  fierce. 

blubbered  (ii.  4.  421),  sobbing  or 
crying;  the  early  meaning  of 
the  word  is  "  swollen." 

bona-robas  (iii.  2.  26,  217),  hand- 
some women  ;  women  of  bad 
character ;  courtesans. 


1C8 


GLOSSARY 


169 


boot,  to  (iii.  1.  29),  in  addition, 

into  the  bargain.     O.  E.  hot, 

help,  redress. 
bragging    (v.   3.    125),   boasting. 

Fr.  bragard,  gay  gallant. 
brawl    (i.    3.    70),    quarrel,    con- 
flict. 
brawn    (i.    1.    19),    a    mass    of 

muscles ;     fat  person.     O.   F. 

braon,     fleshy    part,     muscle ; 

boar  or  swine  fattened  for  the 

table. 
break    (Epilogue,    13),    become 

bankrupt, 
bruited  (i.  1.  114),  noised  abroad. 

Fr.  bruit,  report,  rumor, 
buckle  (i.  1.  141),  bend  or  give 

way.     Fr.  boucle. 
buckler  (i.  2.  s.  d.),  shield.     Fr. 

bouclier,  a  shield  with  a  boss, 
bung   (ii.  4.   138),   a  plug  for  a 

hole  in  a  cask ;  a  pick-pocket, 
busses  (ii.  4.  291),  kisses.     Gael. 

bus,  lip,  mouth. 

caliver  (iii.  2.  289),  a  light  mus- 
ket;    a    corruption  of  caliber, 

the    diameter   of    a    piece    of 

ordnance, 
calm  (ii.  4.  40),  a  mistake  for 

qualm.     A.  S.  cwealm,  death, 

pestilence, 
canaries  (ii.  4.  29),  wine  made 

in  the  Canary  Islands, 
cankers   (ii.   2.    102),   worms  in 

roses ;  something  that  corrodes. 

Lat.  cancer,  crab,  ulcer, 
capable  (i.  1.  172),  susceptible, 
carat  (iv.  5.   162),  a  very  light 

weight,  the  measure  for  gold. 

Fr.  carat. 
cast  (i.  1.  166),  forecast,  foretold. 

(v.  1.  21),  reckoned  out. 
chanced    (i.    1.    87),    happened, 

came  to  pass.     O.  F.  cheance, 

Lat.  cadentia,  falling, 
channel  (ii.  1.  52),  gutter.     O.  F. 

chanel,  canal, 
chapt  (iii.  2.  294),  chapped,  worn, 

r/rinkled. 
charge   (i.   2.   72),   company   of 

soldiers. 

cheater  (ii.  4.  106),  sharper, 
checked  (i.  2.  220),  scolded;     a 

sense  derived  from  the  more 


usual  one  of  "  hinder,"  "  pre- 
vent." The  word  is  taken 
from  the  game  of  chess. 

chops  (ii.  4.  235),  jaws. 

civil  (iv.  1.  42),  orderly,  law- 
abiding. 

clout  (iii.  2.  51),  pin  in  the  centre 
of  a  target. 

cock  and  pie  (v.  1.  1),  a  trivial 
oath,  originally  meaning  "  by 
God  and  pica." 

cold  (iv.  1.  9),  unhappy,  unfor- 
tunate, as  in  the  phrase  "  cold 
comfort." 

colour  (i.  2.  275),  reasonable 
excuse. 

conceited  (v.  1.  39),  planned, 
considered.  O.  F.  conceipt. 

condition  (iv.  3.  90),  rank  or 
position. 

confines  (iv.  5.  124),  kingdoms 
bordering  on  others. 

confirmation  (iv.  5.  189),  surety. 

confirmities  (ii.  4.  64),  a  blunder 
for  infirmities. 

conger  (ii.  4.  58) ,  sea  eel ;  used 
as  a  term  of  abuse. 

conjoins  (iv.  5.  64),  joins  or 
unites  with. 

consist  (iv.  1.  187),  insist. 

construe  (iv.  1.  104),  interpret. 
Lat.  construere,  to  heap  to- 
gether, to  build,  to  construe. 

contention  (i.  1.  9),  civil  war. 

corpse  (i.  1.  192),  bodies  (sin- 
gular for  plural).  O.  F.  corps, 
body. 

countenance  (v.  1.  49),  support. 
O.  F.  contenance,  cheer,  visage. 

counter  (i.  2.  103),  against  the 
scent,  contrary.  Fr.  contre, 
Lat.  contra,  against. 

cover  (ii.  4.  11),  set  the  cloth. 

crack  (iii.  2.  34),  a  lively  lad. 

crafty-sick  (Induction,  37),  sick 
only  in  pretence. 

crib  (iii.  1.  9),  manger,  stall, 
cradle ;  so,  a  confined  and 
narrow  bed.  A.  S.  crib. 

crosses  '(i-  2.  253),  coins  so  called 
because  of  the  cross  upon 
them. 

crudy  (iv.  3.  106),  raw,  crude. 
Lat.  crudus,  raw. 

cuttle  (ii.  4.  139),  cut-purse. 


170 


GLOSSARY 


dace  (iii.  2.  356),  a  small  river- 
fish. 

deep  (iv.  5.  141X,  piercing. 

defensible  (ii.  3.  38),  capable  of 
offering  defence. 

degrees  (i.  2.  259),  degrees  of 
life,  —  youth  ana  age. 

delectable  (iv.  3.  108),  delight- 
ful. Fr.  delectable,  Lat.  de- 
lectdbilis. 

derived  (i.  1.  23),  obtained,  as 
from  a  source  or  origin.  Fr. 
deriver,  Lat.  derivare,  to  lead 
or  draw  off  water. 

descension  (ii.  2.  193),  decline. 

determined  (iv.  5.  82),  put  an 
end  to.  O.  F.  determiner,  to 
determine,  conclude. 

divination  (i.  1.  88),  a  divining, 
guess  for  the  future.  O.  F. 
devin,  soothsayer ;  Lat.  divi- 
nus,  soothsayer  or  prophet. 

dole  (i.  1.  169),  a  portion  or 
giving  out.  A.  S.  dael. 

dull  (iv.  5.  2),  drowsy,  sleep- 
inducing. 

easy  (v.  2.  71),  slight,  unim- 
portant. 

element  (iv.  3.  58).  air. 

encounter'd  (iv.  2.  1),  met. 

endear'd  (ii.  3.  11),  deeply 
pledged. 

engraffed  to  (ii.  2.  67),  attached 
to,  grafted  on.  O.  F.  graffe, 
a  style  for  writing ;  Fr.  greffe, 
a  shoot. 

engross'd  (iv.  5.  71),  amassod. 
Fr.  en  gron,  in  large. 

engrossments  (iv.  5.  80),  ac- 
quisitions. 

exclamation  (ii.  1.  88),  outcry, 
protest. 

exion  (ii.  1.  32),  the  Hostess's 
perversion  of  action. 

extreme  (iv.  3.  116),  outer, 
uttermost.  Fr.  extreme,  Lat. 
extremus. 

face-royal  (i.  2.  26),   face  on  a 

coin, 
familiars  (ii.  2.   144),  people  on 

intimate  terms, 
fantasy  (v.  2.   13),  imagination. 

O.  F.  fantasic,  Gr.  ^acrturia. 


fearful    (Induction,    12),   timid; 

that  which  feels  fear,  not  only 

that  which  inspires  it. 
fertile    (iv.    3.    131),    fertilizing. 

fruitful.     Lat.  fertilit. 
fig  (v.  3.  124),  an  insulting  gesture 

made    with    the    fingers.     Fr. 

fiffue,  Lat.  ficus. 
file   (i.   3.   10),   list.     O.   F.  file, 

file  or  row. 

fit  (i.  1.  142),  attack  of  fever, 
flaws  (iv.  4.  35),  thin  flake?  of 

ice.     Scand.  flaw,  a  flake, 
flesh  d  (i.  1.  149),  fed  with  flesh, 

so  made  proud, 
foin   (ii.    1.    17),   thrust.     O.   F. 

fouine,  an  eel  spear, 
foolish-compounded    (i.    2.    8), 

compounded  with  folly ;  fool- 
ish in  nature, 
fond  (i.  3.  91),  foolish, 
forgetive  (iv.  3.  107),  inventive, 

easily  forging  or  making.    O.  F. 

forge,  Lat.  fabrica,  workshop, 
formal   (v.   2.    133),   grave,   dig- 
nified, 
forspent     (i.     1.     37),     wearied. 

A.  S.  for,  used  in  an  intensive 

sense  ;  cf.  forget,  forgive. 
forward  (i.   1.   173),  courageous, 

active, 
foundered   (iv.   3.   39),   disabled 

by     heavy     riding.       O.     F. 

fondrer,  to  fall  in. 
f outre    (v.    3.    103),    a    term    of 

contempt, 
frame  (iv.  1.  180),  bring  about. 

O.  E.  fremman,  to  do  or  make, 
frank    (ii.   2.    160),   sty.     O.    F. 

frnnke,  a  place  to  feed  hogs  in. 
fubbed  off  (ii.  1.  34),  put  off  with 

idle  excuses, 
fustian    (ii.    4.    203),    a   kind   of 

coarse  cloth  ;    hence,  coarse  or 

common.     O.  F.  fustaine. 

gainsaid     (i.      1.     92),     spoken 

against.     O.  E.  gegn,  against, 
gall   (i.   2.   167),   irritate,   rub  a 

sore  place.     O.  F.  galle,  a  sore ; 

Lat.  callus,  hard  skin, 
gauntlet    (i.    1.    146),    an    iron 

glove.     Fr.    gantelet,    dim.    of 

gant,  glove, 
genius  (iii.  2.  337),  spirit. 


GLOSSARY 


171 


gibbets  (iii.  2.  282),  gibbets, 
slings. 

giddy  (iv.  5.  214),  frivolous, 
restless. 

gird  (i.  2.  7),  mock,  gibe,  strike. 

good-year  (ii.  4.  64),  probably 
from  Fr.  goujere,  a  disease. 

graffing  (v.  3.  3),  grafting.  Cf. 
engrafted. 

griefs  (iv.  1.  69),  grievances. 
O.  F.  gref,  grief. 

groin  (ii.  4.  227),  fork  of  the 
body.  O.  F.  grine.  Same 
word  as  grain,  the  fork  of  the 
branches  of  a  tree. 

gross  (iv.  4.  73),  coarse,  licen- 
tious. 

half-kirtles  (v.  4.  24),  short 
gowns. 

halloing  (i.  2.  213),  shouting, 
singing  loudly. 

halt  (i.  2.  275),  go  lame.  O.  E. 
healtian. 

haunch  (iv.  4.  92),  latter  end. 
Fr.  hanche,  the  haunch  or 
hip. 

heaviness  (iv.  2.  82),  sadness, 
grief. 

hilding  (i.  1.  57),  contemptible, 
mean,  poor  fellow. 

hulk  (i.  1.  19),  clumsy  mass,  big 
unwieldy  person.  O.  F.  hulke, 
flat-bottomed  transport  ship. 
See  also  ii.  4.  70. 

humorous  (iv.  4.  34),  wayward, 
capricious.  O.  F.  humor, 
moisture ;  the  excess  or  de- 
ficiency of  certain  "  humours  " 
in  the  body  was  supposed  to 
cause  differences  in  tempera- 
ment. 

husbandry  (iii.  2.  124),  household 
work,  appropriate  for  a  man. 
A.  S.  husbonda,  master  of  the 
house. 

imbrue  (ii.  4.  210),  draw  blood. 

imp  (v.  4.  46),  scion.  M.  E.  imp, 
a  graft  on  a  tree. 

incensed  (i.  3.  14),  kindled,  in- 
flamed. 

incertain  (i.  3.  24),  uncertain. 

infinitive  (ii.  1.  26),  infinite, 
unlimited. 


insinew'd  (iv.  1.  172),  allied, 
connected  with. 

intelligencer  (iv.  2.  20),  one  who 
gives  intelligence ;  interpreter, 
teacher. 

intended  (iv.  1.  166),  implied. 

intervallums  (v.  1.  91),  intervals. 
O.  F.  intervalle,  an  interval. 

investments  (iv.  1.  45),  vest- 
ments, robes. 

jade    (i.    1.   45),   horse   of   poor 

quality, 
jerkins    (ii.   2.    189;    ii.   4.    18), 

jackets,  short  coats. 
Jordan  (ii.  4.  37),  pot. 
juvenal  (i.  2.  22),  young  person. 

ken  (iv.  1.  151),  short  distance, 
kickshaws    (v.     1.    29),    trifles. 
Cf.  Fr.  guelque  chose. 

lavishly  (iv.  2.  57),  loosely,  with- 
out due  warrant. 

lean  (i.  1.  164),  depend  on. 

liking  (ii.  1.  97),  comparing. 

lingers  (i.  2.  265).  Used  as  a 
transitive  verb:  to  extend. 
A.  S.  lengan,  to  prolong,  put 
off. 

lusty  (ii.  1.  4),  vigorous,  strong, 
full  of  life.  O.  E.  lust,  pleas- 
ure. 

malt-worms  (ii.  4.  361),  topers. 
many     (i.     3.     91),     multitude. 

O.  E.  manig,  a  multitude, 
man-queller    (ii.    1.    58),    man- 
killer.     O.  E.  cwellan,  to  kill, 
mask    (i.    1.    66),    disguise.     Fr. 

masque,      an     entertainment ; 

disguise     used     in     such     an 

entertainment, 
monstrous  (iv.  2.  34),  unusual, 

extraordinary, 
mure    (iv.    4.   .119),    wall.     Fr. 

mural,    pertaining   to  a  wall; 

Lat.  murus,  wall. 
muse   (iv.   1.   167),  wonder,  am 

surprised. 

neif    (ii.    4.    200),    fist.     Scand. 

hnefi,  fist, 
nice  (i.   1.   145),  foolish.     O.  F. 

nice,    slothful,    simple;      Lat. 


GLOSSARY 


nescius,  ignorant,     (iv.  1.  101), 

trivial,  fantastic. 
noble    (ii.    1.    167),   the   coin   BO 

called,  60.  8d.  in  value, 
nut-hook   (v.    4.    8),    catchpole; 

sheriff's  officer. 

obduracy  (ii.  2.  50),  hardness  of 
heart.  Lat.  obdurotus,  p.  p. 
of  obdurare,  to  render  hard. 

observance  (iv.  3.  16),  reverence. 
Fr.  observance,  Lat.  obscnxintia. 

observed  (iv.  4.  30),  courted. 
O.  F.  observer,  to  observe ; 
Lat.  obsertare,  to  take  notice 
of. 

offer  (iv.  1.  219),  menace. 

old  Utis  (ii.  4.  21-22),  rare  fun. 
O.  F.  huitaves,  Lat.  ortavus, 
the  time  between  a  festival 
and  the  eighth  day  after  it. 

omit  (iv.  4.  27),  neglect.  Lat. 
oniittrre,  to  omit,  let  go. 

opposite  (iv.  1.  16),  opponent, 
enemy. 

original  (i.  2.  131),  origin,  source, 
commencement.  Fr.  origine, 
Lat.  origo  >  oriri,  to  rise. 

ostentation  (ii.  2.  54),  manifesta- 
tion. 

ouches  (ii.  4.  53),  ornaments, 
gems.  The  true  moaning  is 
the  socket  of  a  gem,  and  the 
older  form  is  noitch.  O.  F. 
noucfie,  a  buckle,  clasp,  or 
bracelet. 

ousel  (iii.  2.  9),  a  kind  of  thrush. 

outbreathed  (i.  1.  108),  tired  out. 

over-rode  (i.  1.  30),  overtook. 

overween  (iv.  1.  149),  to  be  too 
proud.  O.  E.  wenan,  to  im- 
agine, hope,  or  think. 

owed  (i.  2.  5),  owned,  possessed. 
O.  E.  (igan,  to  own. 

pallet    (iii.    1.    10),    a    kind    of 

mattress  or  couch.     Fr.  paillet, 

a  heap  of  straw, 
pantler   (ii.   4.    258),   servant  in 

charge  of  the  pantry, 
parcel-gilt  (ii.  1.  94),  partly  gilt. 

Fr.  parcelle,  a  particle  or  piece, 
partial  (iii.  1.  26),  unjust,  unfair, 
particular  (iv.  3.  52),  special. 


persistency  (ii.  2.  50),  stubborn- 
ness.    Fr.  per  sister,  to  persist, 
peruse  (iv.  2.  94),  consider,  look 

over, 
potion  <i.   1.  197),  dose  of  liquid 

medicine.     Lat.  potio~>  polar c, 

to  drink, 
powers  (i.  3.  32),  forces,  armed 

bands, 
precepts  (v.  1.  14),  summonses. 

O.  F.  precepte,  a  precept, 
pregnancy    (i.    2.    192),    mental 

agility,  quickness  of  wit. 
presurmise  (i.  1.  16«),  something 

guessed  beforehand, 
pricked  (iii.  2.  122),  marked  for 

service. 
Preface    (v.    3.    30),   a   common 

formula  in  drinking,  meaning 

"  good  health." 
proper    (v.  2.  109),  own. 
proper    (of    hands)    (ii.    2.    72), 

agile  and  athletic, 
propose     (v.     2.     92),    suppose, 

imagine, 
puissance  (i.  3.  9),  power.     Fr. 

puissant,  powerful, 
purchased  (iv.  5.  200),  acquired. 

quality  (iv.  1.  11),  rank;    (v.  2. 

34),          temperament.         Ff. 

quality. 
quean    (ii.     1.    51),    woman    of 

common     character.       O.     E. 

cu~en,  woman, 
queasiness  (i.  1.  196),  sickness. 

Srand.  .kteis,  sickness  after  a 

debauch, 
quittance     (i.     1.     108).     reply. 

O.  F.  quite,  Lat.  quietus,  dis- 
charged, free, 
quiver     (iii.     2.     301),     nimble, 

active, 
quoif    (i.    1.    147),    cap   for   the 

head.     O.    F.   coiffe,   the   sick 

man's  nightcap. 

racket  (ii.  2.  23).  a  play  upon 
the  double  sense :  "  tennis- 
racket  "  and  "  noise  and  con- 
fusion." 

ragged  (Induction,  35),  rugged, 
rough. 

ragged'st  (i.  1.  149),  roughest. 


GLOSSARY 


173 


rampallion  (ii.  1.  65),  a  woman 
of  low  character. 

rank  (iii.  1.  39),  coarse  in  growth, 
strong. 

rate  (iii.  1.  68),  chide,  scold. 
Sw.  rata,  to  blame. 

rate  (iv.  1.  22),  count  or  num- 
ber. O.  F.  rate,  price,  value ; 
Lat.  ratum. 

recordation  (ii.  3.  61),  in  memory 
of.  O.  F.  recorder,  to  repeat 
or  report. 

remission  (v.  2.  38),  pardon. 

resolved  (iv.  1.  213),  determined. 

rigol  (iv.  5.  36),  circle. 

roll  (iii.  2.  106),  muster-roll; 
list  of  the  men  taken  into 
service. 

rood  (iii.  2.  3),  cross.  '  O.  E. 
rod,  a  gallows,  a  rod  or  pole. 

roundly  (iii.  2.  21),  offhand,  with- 
out ceremony. 

routs  (iv.  1.  33),  bands  or  gangs. 
Fr.  route,  a  company  or  multi- 
tude of  men. 

rowel-head  (i.  1.  46),  the  little 
wheel  with  sharp  points  at 
the  end  of  a  spur.  Fr.  rouelle, 
a  little  flat  ring. 

sack  (i.  2.  222),  name  of  an  old 
Spanish  wine ;  also  called  seek 
or  Sherris-sack ,  sack  from 
Xeres. 

sadly  (v.  2.  125),  seriously. 

Samingo  (v.  3.  79),  probably  a 
mistake  for  San  Domingo, 
patron  saint  of  topers. 

satisfy  (ii.  1.  143),  pay. 

scurvy  (ii.  4.  132),  afflicted  with 
scurf ;  mean  and  poor. 

seal'd  (iv.  5.  104),  confirmed. 

sect  (ii.  4.  41),  sex. 

shallowly  (iv.  2.  118),  foolishly, 
without  reflection. 

shove-groat  shilling  (ii.  4.  206- 
207),  a  shilling  used  in  the 
game  of  shove-groat,  played 
on  a  board  with  marked  spaces. 

slops  (i.  2.  34),  loose  breeches. 
A.  S.  slop,  frock. 

sneap  (ii.  1.  133),  rebuke;  a 
form  of  snub.  I  eel.  snubba, 
chide.  The  original  meaning 
is  "  to  snip  off  ends." 


sortance  (iv.  1.  11),  consort  or 
be  appropriate  to. 

spare  (iii.  2.  288),  thin,  slender. 
O.  E.  spaer. 

staves  (iv.  1.  120),  the  staffs  or 
shafts  of  spears. 

stiff-borne  (i.  1.  177),  hard 
fought. 

stomach  (i.  1.  129),  pride;  de- 
rived from  stomach  in  the 
physical  sense.  Gr.  <nan«\o* 
stomach,  from  ord/aa,  a  mouih 
or  entrance,  (iv.  4.  105), 
appetite. 

stop  (Induction,  17),  note  of 
music ;  derived  from  the 
stopping  and  unstopping  of 
the  holes  in  a  flute. 

strained  (i.  1.  161),  overstrained, 
excessive. 

strengths  (v.  5.  73),  powers. 

suborn'd  (iv.  1.  90),  instigated 
secretly  to  commit  perjury. 
Fr.  suborner,  to  suborn. 

success  (iv.  5.  202),  succession. 

sufferance  (v.  4.  28),  suffering. 
Fr.  souffrir. 

suggestion  (iv.  4.  45),  provoca- 
tion, in  the  sense  of  provoca- 
tion to  discord. 

sullen  (i.  1.  102),  gloomy.  O.  F. 
solain,  solitary. 

Surecard  (iii.  2.  95),  lit.,  boon 
companion ;  a  slang  term. 

suspire  (iv.  5.  33),  breathe. 

swinge-bucklers  (iii.  2.  24), 
swash-bucklers. 

tables  (ii.  4.  289),  notebooks; 
(iv.  1.  201),  records. 

take  up  (i.  3.  73),  engage. 

tall  (iii.  2.  67),  valiant. 

tap  for  tap  (ii.  1.  206),  tit  for 
tat. 

tester  (iii.  2.  296),  sixpence;  so 
called  from  the  head  of  the 
sovereign  on  the  coin.  O.  F. 
teste,  a  head. 

thick  (ii.  3.  24),  indistinctly. 

tidy  (ii.  4.  250),  in  prime  condi- 
tion, seasonable.  O.  E.  tid, 
time  or  hour. 

tiring  (Induction,  37),  hastening. 

toys  (ii.  4.  183),  idle  whims. 

trade  (i.  1.  174),  frequency. 


174 


GLOSSARY 


translate  tiv.   1.  47),  transform. 

travel-tainted  (iv.  3.  40),  stained 
with  travel. 

traverse  '  ni.'  2.  291),  march. 

Trigon  (ii.  4.  288),  triplicity ;  a 
name  fur  three  signs  of  the 
Zodiac  taken  together. 

unseason'd  (iii.  1.  105),  un- 
seasonable, untimely. 

up-swarmed  (iv.  2.  30),  caused 
them  to  swarm  or  throng. 

vail  (i.  1.  129),  lower.  Vail  his 
stomach  —  lower  his  pride. 
Fr.  ataler,  to  fall  down.  Cf. 
avalanche. 

valuation  (iv.  1.  189),  estima- 
tion. 

vaward  (i.  2.  199),  vanguard,  an 
abbreviated  form  of  avant- 
guard,  from  Fr.  atant-gardc. 

vice  (ii.  1.  24),  clutches,  grasp. 
Fr.  vis,  the  vice  or  spindle  of  a 
press. 

Vice's  dagger  (iii.  2.  343),  thin  j 
person.'   so    called    from    the  j 
"  lath  "  used  as  a  dagger  by 
the  one  impersonating  "  Vice." 


wags  (i.  2.  200),  portions  full  of 
fun. 

wanton  (i.  1.  146),  luxurious, 
lacking  in  sternness. 

warder  (iv.  1.  125),  staff  of  com- 
mand. 

wassail-candle  (i.  2.  179),  the 
large  candle  used  at  a  banquet 
or  festival.  O.  E.  u-a.i  hdl,  a 
salutation. 

watch-case  (iii.  1.  17),  sentry-box. 

water-work  (ii.  1.  158),  water 
colors  to  ornament  the  wall ; 
probably  a  rough  kind  of  dis- 
temper. 

welkin  (ii.  4.  182),  sky,  clouds; 
the  region  of  clouds.  O.  E. 
wolcnu,  clouds. 

wen  (ii.  2.  115),  a  fleshy  tumor. 
O.  E.  wenn. 

wench  (ii.  2.  152).  girl. 

whipping-cheer  (v.  4.  5-6),  good 
flogging. 

womb  (iv.  3.  25),  belly.  A.  S. 
womb,  belly. 

workings  (iv.  2.  22).  workings  of 
the  brain ;  cogitations. 

yeoman  (ii.  1.4),  servant. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS 

(The  references  are  to  the  Notes  ad  loc.     Other  words  will  be 
found  in  the  Glossary.) 


aggravate,  ii.  4.  175. 
angel,  i.  2.  187;  ii.  4.  362. 
anthem,  i.  2.  213. 

band,  i.  2.  37. 
bawl,  ii.  2.  27. 
beshrew,  v.  3.  59-60. 
bestow,  ii.  2.  186-187. 
bestride,  i.  1.  207. 
bitter,  ii.  4.  184-185. 

Cannibals,  ii.  4.  180. 
caper,  i.  2.  216. 
cavaleros,  v.  3.  62. 
coherence,  v.  1.  73. 
commodity,  i.  2.  277-278. 
conceive,  ii.  2.  123-124. 
considerance,  v.  2.  98. 
consigning,  v.  2.  143. 

drollery,  ii.  i.  156. 
Ephesians,  ii.  2.  164. 

faitors,  ii.  4.  173. 
flapdragons,  ii.  4.  267. 

garland,  v.  2.  84. 
giant,  i.  2.  1. 
glutton,  i.  2.  39. 

heels,  i.  2.  141. 
hemp-seed,  ii.  1.  64. 
his,  ii.  4.  308. 
honey-seed,  ii.  1.  58. 
honey-suckle,  ii.  1.  56. 
hurly,  iii.  1.  25. 


11-sorted,  ii.  4.  162. 
nfer,  v.  5.  14. 
nstance,  i.  1.  56. 

Japhet,  ii.  2.  128. 
kirtle,  ii.  4.  297. 

ieather-coats,  v.  3.  44. 
lemon,  v.  3.  49. 
level,  ii.  1.  124. 
lightness,  i.  2.  53. 
lined,  i.  3.  27. 
lisping,  ii.  4.  289. 
liver,  i.  2.  198. 

malmsey-nose,  ii.  1.  42. 
mandrake,  i.  2.  17. 
mare,  ii.  1.  46,  83. 
martlemas,  ii.  2.  110. 
mask,  i.  1.  66. 
model,  i.  3.  42. 

Neptune,  iii.  1.  49-51. 
noise,  ii.  4.  13. 

o'er-posting,  i.  2.  171. 
office,  i.  3.  47. 
opinion,  iv.  5.  189. 

parcels,  iv.  2.  36. 

peascod-time,  ii.  4.  413. 

pike,  iii.  2.  356. 

Pluto,  ii.  4.  169. 

point,  i.  1.  53;   ii.  4.  142,  198. 

Pomfret,  i.  1.  205. 

pottle-pot,  ii.  2.  83; 

quoit,  ii.  4.  206. 
175 


176 


INDEX   OF   WORDS 


rescue,  ii.  1.  62. 

respect,  i.  1.  184;   i.  2.  Mfl. 

scab,  iii.  2.  296. 
sea-coal,  ii.  1.  95. 
scmblable,  v.  1.  73. 
shadows,  iii.  2.  145-146. 
sickly,  i.  1.  147. 
single,  i.  2.  207. 
smooth-pates,  i.  2.  43. 
suspicion,  i.  1.  84. 


temporality,  ii.  4.  25. 
tlicwes,  iii.  2.  270. 
Trigon.  ii.  4.  288. 

Utis,  ii.  4.  22. 
utmost,  i.  3.  65. 

winking,  i.  3.  33. 
yea-fonooth,  i.  2.  41. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


Addison,  ii.  1.  30. 

Althaea,  ii.  2.  93. 

Amurath,  v.  2.  48. 

Arthur's  Show,  ii.  4.  36;    iii.  2. 

299-300. 
astrology,  ii.  4.  288. 

ballads,  iv.  3.  52;   v.  3.  106. 
Bartholomew  Fair,  ii.  4.  250-251. 
Boleyn,  Anne,  ii.  4.  211. 
Bordeaux,  ii.  4.  69. 

Calipolis,  ii.  4.  193. 

Chaucer,  ii.  1.  3,  109,  145;  ii.  4. 

53,  69;  iii.  2.  33. 
Cotswold,  iii.  2.  23-24;  v.  1. 

15-16. 

Devil's  book,  ii.  2.  49. 
Dives  and  Lazarus,  i.  2.  39. 
Dolphin-chamber,  ii.  1.  94-95. 

Ephesus,  ii.  2.  164. 

Fates,  The  Three,  ii.  4.  213. 

Gower,  ii.  1.  145. 

Hannibal,  ii.  4.  180. 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  ii.  1.  64. 

Hecuba,  ii.  2.  93. 

Hiren,  ii.  4.  173. 

Holinshed,  Induction,  intro.,  37; 

i.  1.  128;    i.  3.  71,  72;    iii.  1. 

103;     iv.    2.    63,    122;     iv.   3. 

intro.;    iv.  4.  40,  125;    iv.  5. 

43,  93,  241. 
Holy  Land,  iii.  1.  108. 

Jerusalem,  iv.  5.  241. 
Jonson,  Ben,  i.  2. 17;  ii.  1.  intro., 
145,  156;  ii.  4.  250-251. 


Lethe,  ii.  4.  169-170. 
Lidgate,  ii.  1.  145. 
Lollards,  i.  2.  213. 
Lubber's  head,  ii.  1.  30. 
Lucy,  iii.  2.  356. 
Lumbert  Street,  ii.  1.  31. 

Malone,  v.  3.  78. 
Marlowe,  ii.  4.  178,  189-190,362.- 
Martinmas,  ii.  2.  110. 
Moralities,  ii.  4.  362 ;   iii.  2.  343. 
Mount  Helicon,  v.  3.  108. 
Mystery  plays,  i.  1.  66. 

Nashe,  ii.  1.  64. 

Oldcastle,  i.   1.   19;    ii.  2.   145- 
146;    iii.  2.  28-29;    Epil.,  33. 
Overbury,  Sir  Thomas,  iii.  2.  356. 

"painted  cloths,"  i.  2.  39;   ii.  1. 

156,  157. 

Peele,  ii.  4.  173,  193. 
Prodigal  Son,  ii.  1.  157. 
proverbs,  ii.  4.   195;    v.   1.   34; 

v.  5.  30-31,  31. 
Puritans,  i.  2.  213. 

St.  Hubert,  ii.  1.  157. 
San  Domingo,  v.  3.  79. 
Scogan,  iii.  2.  33. 
shove-groat,  ii.  4.  206-207. 
Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake,  ii.  4.  36. 
Spanish  Tragedy,  v.  5.  39. 
Spenser's   Faerie  Queen,  Indue., 

35;     ii.    2.    110;     iv.    3.    125; 

v.  3.  125. 

Tamburlaine,  ii.  4.  178,  189-190. 
tennis,  ii.  2.  21. 
textual  note,  5.  3.  37. 
Turnbull  Street,  iii.  2.  329. 
Tyrwhitt,  iv.  3.  126. 
177 


THE    ARDEN     SHAKESPEARE 

General  Editor,  C.  H.  HERFOHD,  Litt.D.,  University  of  Manchester 


THE  LIFE 

OF 

HENRY  THE  FIFTH 


EDITED    BY 

G.   C.   MOORE  SMITH 

FORMERLY    SCHOLAR  OP  ST.    JOHN'S   COLLEGE, 
CAMBRIDGE 


D.   C.   HEATH    AND    COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW   YORK  CHICAGO 

ATLANTA  SAN   FRANCISCO  DALLAS 

LONDON 


THE  ARDEN  SHAKESPEARE 

The  following  titles  are  available : 

AS   YOU    LIKE   IT 

THE   COMEDY   OF   ERRORS 

LOVE'S    LABOUR'S  LOST 

THE    MERCHANT   OF   VENICE 

A   MIDSUMMER    NIGHT'S   DREAM 

MUCH   ADO    ABOUT   NOTHING 

THE   TEMPEST 

TWELFTH    NIGHT 

THE   WINTER'S    TALE 

HENRY   IV— PART   I 
HENRY   IV  —  PART   II 
HENRY    V 
HENRY    VIII 
KING   JOHN 
RICHARD    II 
RICHARD    III 

ANTONY   AND   CLEOPATRA 

CORIOLANUS 

CYMBELINE 

HAMLET 

JULIUS   C/ESAR 

KING    LEAR 

MACBETH 

OTHELLO 

ROMEO    AND    JULIET 

TIMON   OF   ATHENS 


EDITOR'S   PREFACE. 


I  cannot  let  this  edition  go  forth  without  a  few  words  of 
acknowledgment  of  help  received. 

For  the  interpretation  and  illustration  of  the  text  of  the 
play,  I  am  indebted  above  all  to  the  indispensable  Shake- 
speare Lexicon  of  Alexander  Schmidt,  and  next  to  the  labours 
of  my  predecessors,  the  earlier  and  later  editors.  Among  the 
latter,  I  must  especially  mention  Mr.  W.  Aldis  Wright  and 
Mr.  K.  Deighton. 

In  regard  to  etymology,  I  have  followed  Dr.  Murray's  New 
English  Dictionary  for  such  words  as  are  contained  in  the 
parts  of  the  Dictionary  already  published ;  for  most  others, 
Professor  Skeat,  who  has  thus  increased  a  debt  which  I  owed 
him  before  for  much  valuable  teaching. 

In  many  respects,  notably  in  my  treatment  of  Shake- 
speare's prosody  and  of  his  obligations  to  his  authorities,  I 
have  availed  myself  of  the  example  set  me  by  Professor 
Herford,  the  editor  of  Richard  II.,  the  first  volume  of  this 
series.  Where  I  have  been  led  to  depart  from  his  authority, 
I  have  done  so  with  great  diffidence. 

Lastly,  I  owe  very  special  thanks  to  my  friend  Mr.  Walter 
Worrall,  B.A.,  Worcester  College,  Oxford,  for  most  kindly 
reading  through  my  proofs,  and  giving  me  the  full  benefit  of 
his  exact  scholarship  and  delicate  literary  taste. 

G.  C  M.  S. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

GENERAL  PREFACE,  3 

EDITOR'S  PREFACE,  .  5 

INTRODUCTION,      -  9 

DRAMATIS  PERSON.*,  38 

HENRY  THE  Finn,  -    39 

NOTES,    -  117 

APPENDIX  I. — A.  List  of  Historical  Daus.  -  223 

B.  Table  of  the  Family  of  Edward  III.,  -  225 

C.  The  Houses  of  France  and   Burgundy,  and   the 

Claim  of  Edward  III.  to  the  French  Throne,     -  226 

APPENDIX    II. — Shakespeare's  usage    in    blank    verse, 

rhyme,  and  prose, 227 

APPENDIX  III. — Pronunciation  of  \Vords  in  Shakespeare 

so  far  as  it  affects  the  verse,        -  ...  236 

APPENDIX   IV. — Verbs  in  the  singular  lorm  with  plural 

subjects  in  Shakespeare,     -  •  243 

GLOSSARY,  -  245 
INDEX  OF  WORDS,  -  -  •  255 
GENERAL  INDEX, 261 


INTRODUCTION. 


I.  LITERARY  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY. 

§  i.   77/i?  Life  of  King  Henry  the  Fifth  was  written  by 
Shakespeare  almost  certainly  in  the  year  1 599, 
and  probably  acted  in  the  same  year:    it  was 
first  printed,  and  then  only  in  an  imperfect  form,  in  1600. 

The  date  at  which  the  play  was  written  is  fixed  by  an 
allusion  in  the  Prologue  of  act  v.  lines  30-35, 

"Were  now  the  general  of  our  gracious  empress, 
As  in  good  time  he  may,  from  Ireland  coming, 
Bringing  rebellion  broached  on  his  sword, 
How  many  would  the  peaceful  city  quit, 
To  welcome  him !  much  more,  and  much  more  cause. 
Did  they  this  Harry". 

By  the  'general  of  our  gracious  empress '  is  meant  Essex, 
who  was  employed  in  Ireland  in  the  summer  of  1599  in 
suppressing  Tyrone's  rebellion ;  leaving  London  on  March 
27,  and  returning  on  September  28.  It  is  clear  that  the 
words  of  the  Prologue  were  written  within  these  dates,  and, 
as  Mr.  Wright  says,  '  probably  nearer  the  beginning  than  the 
end  of  the  period ',  for  it  soon  became  clear  that  Essex  was 
not  likely  to  have  a  triumphant  return.  We  therefore  con- 
clude that  the  play  was  written  in  the  early  part  of  1 599. 

This  conclusion  is  supported  by  the  fact  that  Henry  V.  is 
not  included  in  the  list  of  Shakespeare's  plays  given  by  Meres 
in  his  Palladis  Tamia  in  1598.  It  also  agrees  with  what  we 
should  presume  from  the  evidence  of  verse-tests.  See  Mr. 
Herford's  edition  of  Richard  II.  pp.  11-14. 

The  Quarto  edition  of  1600  bears  the  following  title: 
"THE  |  CHRONICLE  |  History  of  Henry  the  fift  With  his 
battle  fought  at  Agin  Court  in  |  France.  Togither  with 


io  KING    HENRY   THE    KIKTII. 

Aunt  lent  \  Pistol  I.  \  As  it  hath  bene  sundry  times  played  by 
the  Right  honorable  \  the  Lord  Chamberlaine  his  servants.  [ 
LONDON  |  Printed  by  Thomas  Creede,fov  Tho.  Milling  ]  ton, 
and  lohn  Busby.     And  are  to  be  |  Sold  at  his  house  in  Carter 
Lane,  next  j  the  Powle  head.  1600.  |  " 

The  second  and  third  Quartos  are  dated  1602  and  1608 
respectively.  The  title  of  the  play  is  the  same  in  these  as 
in  the  First  Quarto,  though  there  are  some  variations  in  the 
imprint.  Both  the  later  Quartos  were  printed  from  the  First 
and  have  no  separate  authority. 

In  1623,  seven  years  after  Shakespeare's  death,  appeared 
what  is  known  as  the  First  Folio,  in  which  for  the  first  time 
his  various  plays  were  collected  together.  The  title-page 
runs  as  follows:  Mr.  WILLIAM  j  SHAKESPEARES  |  COM- 
EDIES, |  HISTORIES,  &  !  TRAGEDIES  |  Published  according 
to  the  True  Originall  Copies  |  LONDON  |  Printed  by  Isaac 
laggard,  and  Ed.  Blount.  1623.  |  "  Our  play  is  merely 
headed,  "The  Life  of  Henry  the  Fift". 

It  is  in  the  First  Folio  that  Henry  I',  appears  for  the  first 
time  in  a  complete  form.  The  Prologues  and  Epilogue  which 
were  wanting  in  the  Quartos  are  now  added,  and  the  rest  of 
the  play  is  doubled  in  length.  The  Second  Folio  (1632),  the 
Third  Folio  (1663  and  1664),  the  Fourth  (1685)  differed  only 
slightly  from  the  First. 

§  2.  The  question  then  arises:  What  is  the  relation  be- 
Relation  of  tween  the  short  text  of  the  Quartos  and  the  long 
Quarto  to  text  of  the  Folios?  The  following  considera- 

Folio  Text. 

tions  may  lead  us  to  an  answer. 

(a)  Although  the  Quarto  editions  all  appeared  after  1 599, 
the  date  at  which  the  fuller  text  including  the  Prologues  must 
have  been  written,  it  might  be  thought  that  they  were  pirated 
editions  of  some  first  sketch  of  the  play,  made  by  Shakespeare 
before  he  elaborated  the  full  play  in  1 599.  (The  text  of  all 
the  Quartos  is  so  careless  and  corrupt  that  it  is  clear  that 
they  were  not  in  any  case  printed  with  Shakespeare's  sanc- 
tion.) But  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel  has  shown  in  his  Introduction 
to  the  Parallel  Texts  of  the  play,  printed  by  the  New  Shak- 
spere  Society,  that  the  Quarto  text  is  clearly  not  a  first 


INTRODUCTION.  1 1 

sketch,  but  a  careless  abridgment  either  of  the  Folio  text 
or  of  something  very  like  it.  The  strongest  part  of  Mr. 
Daniel's  proof  rests  on  the  fact  that  the  Quarto  text  in 
several  places  contains  expressions  not  intelligible  in  the 
light  of  the  Quarto  text  itself,  but  which  are  at  once  explained 
when  we  turn  to  the  fuller  text  of  the  Folios.  For  example, 
in  act  5.  sc.  2,  we  find  in  the  Quarto  as  in  the  Folio  the 
words  'Hugh  Capet  also'.  In  the  Folio  the  also  is  quite 
clear,  because  the  case  of  King  Pepin  has  been  mentioned 
previously ;  but  that  passage  is  absent  from  the  Quarto  and 
therefore  the  also  there  is  meaningless.  So  a  few  lines  lower 
the  Quarto  speaks  of  the  '  foresaid  Duke  of  Loraine :,  although 
it  has  so  far  made  no  mention  of  him.  In  the  Folio  text  the 
expression  is  perfectly  justified.  Lastly,  the  Quarto  which 
omits  act  iv.  sc.  2  yet  tacks  the  last  two  lines  of  this  scene — 

"  Come,  come  away 
The  Sunne  is  high  and  we  outweare  the  day  ", 

on  to  the  night  scene,  act  iii.  sc.  7.  The  conclusion  must  be 
that  the  original  text  of  the  play  is  rather  that  of  the  Folio 
than  that  of  the  Quartos. 

(b~)  A  further  argument  is  based  on  the  respective  lengths 
of  the  two  texts,  the  Folio  consisting  of  3379  lines,  the  Quarto 
of  1623.  The  lines  absent  in  the  Quartos  cover  the  whole  of 
the  Prologues  and  the  Epilogue,  three  entire  scenes  (act  i. 
sc.  i,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  act  iv.  sc.  2)  and  about  500  scattered  lines 
besides.  In  the  fuller  form  Henry  V.  ranks  with  the  longer 
of  Shakespeare's  plays,  King  Lear,  Othello  and  Coriolanus  • 
in  the  shorter  form  with  Julius  Casar  and  King  John.  In 
Mr.  Wright's  words :  "  There  was  good  reason  therefore  for 
shortening  a  long  play,  but  apparently  none  for  expanding 
one  which  was  already  of  average  length  for  representation. 
The  conclusion  seems  inevitable  that  the  shorter  form  is  the 
later  of  the  two,  and  that  the  Folio  represents  Shakespeare's 
original  work." 

The  careless  manner  in  which  the  abridgment  was  effected 
makes  it  probable  that  Shakespeare  himself  had  no  hand  in 
this  work,  and  the  gross  corruptions  of  the  Quarto  text,  which 


12  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

frequently  destroy  both  sense  and  rhythm,  point  to  the  fact 
that  it  was  not  even  printed  from  a  hastily  contrived  stage 
abridgment,  but  taken  down  imperfectly  by  some  persons 
present  at  a  representation  of  the  play.  It  was,  in  fact, 
'pirated'. 

(<•)  But  assuming,  as  seems  most  probable,  that  the  Quarto 
text  was  based  on  something  like  the  Folio  text,  there  is  a 
further  question.  Had  Shakespeare  retouched  the  play 
between  the  time  when  it  was  cut  down  to  the  form  in  which 
we  have  it  in  the  Quartos  and  the  time  of  his  death  in  1616? 
And  does  the  text  of  the  Folios  give  this  revised  form  of  the 
play? 

A  close  examination  of  the  two  texts  led  Dr.  Nicholson  to 
answer  this  question  in  the  affirmative.  Many  lines  in  the 
Quartos  show  readings  which  can  hardly  be  explained  as 
errors  in  hearing  or  copying,  but  seem  to  be  Shakespeare's 
own  work  in  an  earlier  form  than  that  found  in  the  Folios. 
The  point  is  too  problematical  to  be  treated  here:  and  I 
accordingly  refer  the  reader  to  Dr.  Nicholson's  paper  in  the 
Transactions  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  1880-6,  p.  77. 

§  3.  Shakespeare's  play  was  preceded  by  another,  by  an 

anonymous  author,  on  the  same  subject.     It  was  entered  at 

Stationers'   Hall  on   May   14,  1594,  under  the 

Previous  Play  * 

on  the  same    title  "  The  famous  victories  of  Henrye  the  Fyft 
conteyninge  the  honorable  battell  of  Agincourt". 
It  had  been  acted  before  1588,  and  was  printed  in  1598  and 
1617.     This  play  has  been  considered  one  of  Shakespeare's 
authorities  for  his  Henry  V.,  but  it  would  appear  that  he  made 
only  a  little  use  of  it. 
§  4.  Genest1  mentions  two  later  plays. 
(a)  "Lord  Orrery's  Henry  V.n  It  was  produced  in  1664,  and 
printed  in  1668.     The  play  was  in  rhyme,  and, 

Later  Plays.      '  * 

according  to  Genest,     has  not  the  least  resem- 
blance to  Shakespeare,  except  in  the  historical  part  of  it" 

(£)  "  Hill's  Henry  V.,  or  the  Conquest  of  France  by  the 
English."  It  was  produced  Dec.  5,  1723,  and  acted  six  times. 
Genest  says — "After  all  it  is  but  a  bad  alterationt  of  Shake- 

>  Genest,  Account  of  t lit  Knglisk  Staff  ,ed.  1832).  vol.  i.  p.  53. 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

speare's  play.  Hill  has  omitted  all  the  comic  characters — 
his  taste  was  too  Frenchified  to  relish  the  humour  of  Fluellen, 
the  admirable  description  of  FalstafPs  death,  or  even  the 
scene  between  the  King  and  the  private  soldiers." 1 

2.  THE   SOURCE   OF  THE   INCIDENTS. 

§  5.  The  one  great  authority  which  Shakespeare  seems  to 
have  followed  in  constructing  this  play  was  the  second  edition 
of  Holinshed's  Chronicle  ( 1 587),  although  no  doubt  he  had 
always  present  to  his  mind  the  earlier  and  very  inferior  play 
The  famous  victories  of  Henry e  the  Fyft,  and  perhaps  other 
accounts  or  traditions  of  the  events  described,  and  borrowed 
an  expression  from  these  sources  here  and  there.2  In  par- 
ticular, we  may  trace  some  reminiscences  of  the  earlier  play 
in  Henry's  tennis-ball  speech  (i.  2),  and  in  the  courtship  scene 
(v.  2). 

But  the  main  thing  for  us  if  we  wish  to  understand  Shake- 
speare's art  is  to  notice  his  way  of  handling  the  story  which 
he  found  in  Holinshed.  I  have  given  in  the  notes  many 
passages  from  Holinshed  which  may  be  compared  in  detail 
with  the  corresponding  passages  in  the  play.  But  it  will  be 
convenient  to  bring  together  here  some  of  the  chief  points  in 
which  Shakespeare  diverged  from  his  authority. 

These  divergences  fall  under  three  heads :  alterations  of 
time,  place,  and  persons — alterations  affecting  character^ — 
new  characters  and  incidents. 

§  6.  Divergences  of  time  and  place  (to  quote  Mr.  Herford) 
"  are  inevitable  in  any  dramatic  treatment  of  history.  What 
we  think  of  as  a  single  'historical  event'  is  com-  (T)  Divergences, 
monly  made  up  of  a  crowd  of  minor  incidents  Time  and  Place- 
happening  in  different  places  and  on  different  days.  The 

1  Genest,  vol.  iii.  p.  129,  gives  an  analysis  of  the  play. 

*  Notice  Westmoreland's  wish  for  '  ten  thousand '  more  men  (iv.  3.  17),  whereas 
Holinshed  makes  '  one  of  the  host '  wish  for  '  as  manie  good  soldiers  as  are  at  this 
houre  within  England ',  without  specifying  any  number.  Here  the  anonymous 
eye-witness  (see  Nicolas'  Agincourt]  makes  Sir  Walter  Hungerford  express  the 
wish  for  '  10,000  more  archers '.  Was  Shakespeare's  use  of  this  number  a  mere 
coincidence,  or  a  reminiscence  of  some  other  account  than  Holinshed '«? 


14  KING    HLNRY   THE    FIFTH. 

dramatist  concentrates  them  into  a  single  continuous  act" 
We  have  the  following  instances  in  Henry  V. : — 

(a)  i.  2.     The  speeches  of  the  Archbishop,  Westmoreland, 
and  Kxeter,  which,  according  to  Holinshed,  were  made  in  the 
Parliament  of  Leicester,  arc  here  made  to  the  King  imme- 
diately before  the  entrance  of  the  French  Ambassadors  with 
the  gift  of  tennis-balls. 

(b)  ii.  4.     According  to  Holinshed,  Exeter's  embassy  to 
France  took  place  soon  after  the  Parliament  of  Leicester  in 
1414,  whereas  a  fresh  embassy  under  Antelope  King-at-Arms 
was  despatched  from  Southampton  before  Henry's  embark- 
ation in  1415.    Shakespeare  makes  one  embassy  out  of  the 
two. 

(c)  iv.  7.    According  to  Holinshed,  Montjoy  came  'in  the 
morning'  after  the  battle.     Shakespeare  represents  him  as 
coming  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  the  battle  was 
fought,  and  before  the  King  had  received  a  report  of  the 
slain.     The  act  thus  ends  more  effectively  on  the  very  day  of 
the  battle. 

(d)  In  v.  2  Shakespeare  compresses  the  action  of  several 
days  into  one,  and  changes  the  scene  from  a  church  to  a 
palace.     See  note  to  the  Stage  Direction  of  the  scene. 

With   these  divergencies,  we   may  class  those  in  which 

Divergences  of     Shakespeare,  in  order  to  concentrate  or  enliven 

Persons.        tne  actjon  of  the  play,  attributes  incidents  to 

other  persons  than  those  given  in  his  authority.     He  does 

this  repeatedly  in  this  play. 

(a)  i.  2.  In  order  to  suggest  Henry's  conscientiousness  and 
his  statesmanlike  foresight,  Shakespeare  attributes  to  him  the 
raising  of  two  difficulties  attending  on  his  claim  to  the  French 
throne :  first,  the  impediment  presented  by  the  Salic  law ; 
second,  the  danger  of  a  Scotch  invasion.  In  the  discussion 
of  these  difficulties  in  Holinshed's  account,  Henry  takes  no 
part. 

(b}  iii.  6.  Shakespeare,  without  authority  from  Holinshed, 
represents  Exeter  in  command  at  the  bridge,  and  makes 
Bardolph  (an  unhistorical  character)  steal  the  pax  or  pix,  an 
act  which  Holinshed  attributes  merely  to  'asouldier'. 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

(c)  iv.  6.  61.  Holinshed  refers  this  incident,  not  to  the 
Constable,  but  to  the  Duke  of  Brabant. 

(ft)  iv.  3.  Shakespeare,  perhaps  to  avoid  useless  explana- 
tions or  from  mere  carelessness  of  inaccuracies  which  do  not 
affect  dramatic  truth,  represents  Bedford,  Westmoreland,  and 
Warwick  as  present  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  although  he 
might  have  seen  from  Holinshed  that  no  one  of  them  was  in 
fact  there. 

He  puts  in  Westmoreland's  mouth  the  wish  for  more  men 
which  Holinshed  attributes  merely  to  'one  of  the  host'. 

(e]  v.  2.  He  changes  the  persons  intrusted  with  the  office 
of  treating  with  the  French.  See  note  to  the  Stage  Direction 
at  the  beginning  of  the  scene. 

§  7.  Shakespeare,  as  Mr.  Herford  says,  is  far  more  chary 
of  divergences  affecting  character.  In  this  play  the  only 
historical  person  whose  character  is  treated  with  ,}  D;vergences 
any  fulness  is  the  King  himself;  his  lords  have  affecting 
little  or  no  individuality ;  and  the  French  princes 
are  scarcely  more  than  a  contrast  and  foil  to  Henry.  In  the 
main,  Shakespeare  takes  Henry's  character  as  he  found  it 
in  his  authority  and  in  tradition:  the  character  of  a  far- 
sighted  statesman,  a  stern  warrior,  a  valiant  and  deeply 
religious  man.  Only  one  incident  in  Henry's  career  pre- 
sented a  difficulty :  his  order  to  slay  the  French  prisoners 
(iv.  7).  Shakespeare  does  not  shrink  from  representing  the 
fact,  but  he  seems  to  show,  by  the  light  way  in  which  he 
passes  it  over,  his  sense  of  the  discord  in  which  it  stands  to 
the  conception  of  Henry's  character  which  he  wished  to  set 
forth.  While  Holinshed  is  very  serious  over  it,  accumulating 
the  reasons  which  rendered  the  order  necessary,  pointing 
out  that  it  was  "  contrarie  to  his  accustomed  gentlenes ",  a 
"dolorous  decree  and  pitifull  proclamation"  leading  to  a 
hateful  scene  of  slaughter,  Shakespeare  would  evidently  wish 
us  not  to  let  it  affect  us  too  seriously. 

"  I  ne'er  was  angry  since  I  came  to  France  until  this  instant." 

That  is  all  Henry  says  about  it.  and  Fluellen  and  Gower 
thought  the  act  necessary.     So  Shakespeare  leaves  it,  but 


16  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

the  very  slightness  of  his  treatment  of  the  incident  seems  to 
show  that  he  did  not  find  it  easy  to  reconcile  it  with  the 
heroic  picture  which  his  mind  conceived  of  the  victor  of 
Agincourt. 

§  8.  Shakespeare's  main  divergence  from  Holinshed  con- 
sists of  course  in  his  imaginative  creation  of  the  secondary 
(3)  New  ar"d  comic  characters,  and  his  interweaving  of 

Characters.  tnejr  fortunes  with  those  of  the  historical  per- 
sonages of  the  play.  Some  of  these — Gower,  Pistol,  Nym, 
Bardolph,  the  Hostess,  and  the  Boy  (like  Falstaff  and  Doll 
Tearsheet,  who  are  mentioned  but  not  brought  on  the  stage 
in  Henry  K)— had  already  played  their  parts  in  Henry  JV.\ 
others,  such  as  Fluellen,  Macmorris,  Jamy,  the  three  soldiers, 
and  Alice,  are  seen  in  Henry  V.  for  the  first  time.  I  have 
spoken  in  the  introductions  to  the  several  scenes  of  the 
dramatic  purposes  served  by  these  inferior  characters  and 
by  that  alternation  of  comic  or  everyday  life  with  heroic 
scenes  which  is  so  conspicuous  in  Shakespearian  art,  and 
nowhere  more  so  than  in  this  play. 

Shakespeare  shows  his  fertility  of  mind  in  inventing  new 
pjew  touches  and  incidents  to  bring  out  to  the 

Incidents,  audience  the  character  of  the  king,  or  to  stir 
in  them  some  thrill  of  surprise  and  quickened  interest  in  the 
course  of  events. 

(a)  A  good  example  is  found  in  ii.  2.  Holinshed  would 
lead  his  reader  to  think  that  Henry,  having  detected  the 
plot  and  summoned  the  conspirators  to  his  presence,  at  once 
denounced  them.  But  with  what  art  Shakespeare  remodels 
the  scene !  The  King  at  first  dissembles  his  knowledge,  and 
the  unsuspecting  traitors  are  led  to  give  the  Judas-kiss  of 
new  professions  of  loyalty.  The  audience,  already  acquainted 
with  their  guilt,  and  seeing  them  thus  acting  the  hypocrite, 
are  at  once  warmly  interested  against  them.  But  the  effect 
is  further  heightened.  Shakespeare  introduces  the  incident 
of  the  man  who  had  been  sent  to  prison  for  railing  against 
the  King.  Henry  is  ready  to  pardon  him,  but  the  conspirators, 
as  a  further  proof  of  their  loyalty,  urge  that  he  should  be 
punished.  Again,  the  dramatic  purpose  of  the  new  incident 

(HITS) 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

is  clear.  Having  shown  no  mercy,  they  will  have  no  claim  to 
expect  mercy  when  their  turn  comes. 

Another  incident,  invented  by  Shakespeare,  introduces  a 
startling  effect  of  surprise.  The  King  reveals  his  know- 
ledge of  the  treason  not  by  word  of  mouth,  but  in  papers 
handed  to  the  three  conspirators,  which  they  expect  to 
contain  his  commissions  in  regard  to  the  war.  And  lastly, 
the  justice  of  the  King's  sentence  is  made  apparent  by  the 
immediate  confession  of  the  culprits. 

(6)  On  the  dramatic  purpose  of  iii.  4  and  iv.  i,  see  the 
Introductions  to  the  two  scenes. 

(c)  In  iv.  5  Shakespeare  represents  the  Dauphin  to  have 
been  present  at  Agincourt,  although  in  iii.  5.  60  he  had  made 
the  French  king  forbid  him  to  join  the  army,  and  Holinshed 
gave  no  authority  for  his  presence.  Probably  Shakespeare 
felt  that  as  Henry  represented  the  solid  qualities  of  a  true 
king,  and  the  Dauphin  the  mere  show  and  glitter  of  royalty 
without  the  substance,  it  would  add  to  the  dramatic  effect 
that  both  should  meet  on  the  great  day  of  trial,  the  one  to 
issue  from  it  with  glory,  the  other  in  reprobation  and  dis- 
grace. 

(d}  iv.  6.  The  affecting  account  of  the  deaths  of  York  and 
Suffolk  is  invented  by  Shakespeare. 

(<?)  v.  2.  The  courtship  scene  is  of  course  a  creation  of 
Shakespearian  imagination,  intended  to  show  Henry  in  a 
new  light  and  to  give  a  pleasant  ending  to  the  play. 

3.  THE   ELIZABETHAN   THEATRE. 

§  9.  The  reader  of  Henry  V.  hears  the  poet  more  than 
once  complaining  that  his  subject  is  too  vast  to  be  worthily 
represented  on  the  stage.  The  complaint  no  Inadequacy  of 
doubt  would  hold  true  even  of  the  stage  of  our  the  Elizabethan 
own  day,  for  the  most  elaborately  prepared 
scenes  must,  after  all,  give  only  a  faint  image  of  such  great 
events  as  battles  and  sieges.  In  the  last  resort  the  stage- 
manager  must  always  appeal  to  the  audience — "  Piece  out  our 
imperfections  with  your  thoughts",  "  minding  true  things  by 

(  H  178  )  B 


18  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH. 

what  their  mockeries  be".  The  eye  can  aid  the  imagination 
with  more  or  less  effect,  but  after  all  the  imagination  must 
do  its  part ;  and  in  fact  it  is  by  stimulating  the  imagination 
that  the  drama  fulfils  its  highest  purpose. 

The  stage,  then,  in  its  highest  attempts  must  always  fall 
short  of  reality.  But  if  this  is  true  of  the  stage  of  our  day, 
it  was  far  more  true  under  the  rudimentary  conditions  of  the 
Elizabethan  drama.  Let  us  try  to  realize  that  undeveloped 
theatre  which  Shakespeare  calls  slightingly  'this  unworthy 
scaffold',  '  this  cockpit',  '  this  wooden  O'. 

When  the  young  Shakespeare  (about  1587)  thought  it 
better  to  leave  Stratford  behind  him  and  seek  his  fortunes  in 
Earliest  London  London,  he  found  (besides  a  circus  in  South- 

Iheatre*.  wark  called  Paris  Garden,  rarely  or  never  used 
for  dramatic  performances)  two  regular  playhouses  established 
close  together  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Shoreditch.  The  older 
one,  called  the  Theatre,  had  been  built  in  1576;  the  other, 
the  Curtain  (so  called  from  a  piece  of  ground  of  that  name 
on  which  it  stood),  had  come  into  existence  about  a  year  later. 
The  legend  runs  that  Shakespeare's  first  employment  was  to 
hold  the  horses  of  visitors  to  one  of  these  houses  during  the 
hours  of  the  performances. 

The  next  theatre,  the  Rose,  on  the  south  side  of  the  river 
(Bankside),  seems  to  have  opened  in  1592.  In  the  same 
neighbourhood  were  erected  the  Swan  Theatre,  opened  in 
1593,  and  the  Globe,  built  in  1599,  in  part  from  materials 
brought  from  the  Theatre,  which  was  now  demolished. 

Meanwhile,  on  the  northern  side  of  the  Thames,  the  Black- 
friars  Theatre  had  been  opened  in  1596.  It  is  probable  that 
Halliwell  is  right  in  thinking  that  Henry  V.  was  brought  out 
at  the  Curtain '  (or  perhaps  the  Blackfriars  Theatre],  as  the 
Globe,  which  was  to  be  the  home  of  the  later  Shakespearian 
drama,  was  probably  not  finished  by  the  summer  of  1599. 
The  question  is,  however,  of  small  importance  for  our  present 
purpose.  In  the  main,  what  is  true  of  one  theatre  will  be 
true  of  all. 

An  exterior  view  of  the  Globe  (as  it  was  rebuilt  after  being 

»  Halliwell,  Outlintt  of  tke  Lift  of  Shakttftart.  7th  ed.  L  177. 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

burnt  down  in  1613)  appears  in  an  engraving  of  London, 
published  by  Visscher  in  1620.  The  view  is  chief  features  of 
reproduced  in  Halliwell's  Outlines  (7th  ed. )  an  Elizabethan 
i.  p.  315.  It  shows  the  Globe  to  have  been 
externally  octagonal  ( Malone  calls  it  a  hexagon ) :  possibly 
(though  it  hardly  appears  so  from  the  engraving)  it  was 
circular  within.  In  other  points  the  engraving  agrees  with 
the  only  known  sketch  of  the  interior  of  an  Elizabethan 
theatre,  viz.  the  sketch  of  the  Swan  Theatre,  taken  by  one 
J.  de  Witt  in  1 596,  and  reproduced  by  K.  T.  Gadertz  (Zur 
Kenntnis  der  alt-englischen  Biihne,  Bremen,  1 888).  The  chief 
features,  then,  of  an  Elizabethan  theatre  are — 

(1)  An  outer  wall,  octagonal,  hexagonal;  square,  or  circu- 
lar, against  the  inner  side  of  which  are  three  tiers  of  galleries. 
These  galleries  are  roofed  over ;  but  the  central  part  of  the 
theatre  is  open  to  the  sky.     The  galleries  are  seated.     They 
are  approached  by  stairs  from  the  '  yard '. 

(2)  The  '  yard ',  or  pit,  which  was  not  seated. 

(3)  The  platform  or  stage,  which  projected  into  the  'yard', 
being  supported  on  posts  about  four  feet  high.     The  front 
part  of  the  stage  was  (like  the  '  yard ')  exposed  to  the  weather, 
the  back  part  was  covered  by  a  roof  supported  on  pillars. 
This  part  could  be  curtained  off  from  the  rest  of  the  stage, 
and  on  the  withdrawal  of  the  curtains  be  used  to  indicate  a 
change  of  scene.     It  must  be  remembered  that  no  'scenery' 
was  used.     At  the  far  back  of  the  stage  rose  the  'tiring 
house'.     The  lower  story  had  two  doors,  by  which  the  actors 
came  on  the  stage,  and  above  these  a  stage  box,  used  some- 
times as  part  of  the  stage,  sometimes   for  the  musicians, 
sometimes  for  distinguished  visitors.     The  upper  story  of  the 
'tiring  house'  rose  above  the  outer  walls  of  the  theatre,  and 
therefore  commanded  a  wide  view  over  the  town  outside. 
It   was    from   here   that   the   trumpet   was   sounded   which 
announced  the  beginning  of  a  performance.     A  flag  bearing 
the   sign  of  the  theatre  (a  globe,  swan,  &c.)  was   hoisted 
from  the  roof  of  the  '  tiring  house '  during  the  time  of  the 

Play- 
According  to  De  Witt,  the  Swan  Theatre  was  built  of  flints 


20  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

and  had  seats  for  3000  spectators.  The  earlier  theatres  were 
certainly  of  wood,  and  probably  far  less  spacious. 

As  has  been  said,  '  scenery'  was  unknown  in  all  public 
theatres  before  the  Great  Rebellion,  although  it  was  used 

Absence  of  occasionally  in  representations  at  court  and  in 
Scenery.  college  halls  The  first  mention  of  movable 
scenes  is  at  a  performance  before  King  James  I.  in  1605,  in 
the  Hall  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  of  which  we  are  told  '  the 
stage  varied  three  times'.  Sometimes  the  place  where  the 
action  was  supposed  to  take  place  was  indicated  by  a  board 
— as  is  shown  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  words  in  the  Apologie 
for  Poesie  (ed.  Shuckburgh,  p.  39),  '  What  child  is  there  that, 
seeing  Thebes,  written  in  great  letters  on  an  old  door,  doth 
believe  that  it  is  Thebes?'  However,  in  default  of  scenery, 
movable  properties  such  as  trees,  rocks,  tombs,  steeples,  &c, 
were  often  introduced,  though  sometimes,  even  in  place  of  a 
property,  its  mere  name  was  written  up. 

It  is  possible,  as  Collier  suggests,  that  the  absence  of  any 
attempt  to  counterfeit  on  the  stage  the  supposed  scene  of  the 
action  had  some  important  results  on  the  character  of  the 
Elizabethan  drama — first,  by  leaving  the  dramatist  free  to 
transport  his  action  from  place  to  place,  without  fear  of  occa- 
sioning difficulties  to  the  stage-manager;  and  secondly,  by 
necessitating  passages  of  poetical  description  which  we 
should  otherwise  have  lost. 

After  the  trumpet  had  thrice  sounded,  the  performance 
began  with  the  delivery  of  the  Prologue.1  This  was  generally 

M  thod  f      spoken  by  the  poet  or  his  representative,  dressed 

Representation  in  a  black  velvet  cloak  and  with  a  garland  of 

ys'       bay.     Occasionally  the  speaker  of  the  prologue 

was  a  woman.     The   epilogue  was   sometimes,  as    in   the 

Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  delivered  by  a  character  in  the 

play. 

Music  was  often  given  between  the  acts,  the  musicians 
being  seated  in  the  box  over  the  stage.  The  band  was  not 
placed  in  its  present  position  between  the  stage  and  the  pit 
until  1667. 

1  See  Collier,  Hist.  Dram.  Lit.,  iii.  245,  &c. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

All  women  characters  up  to  1660  were  taken  by  boys  or 
men.  There  are  many  references  to  this  in  Shakespeare, 
e.g.  Ant.  and  Cleop.  v.  2.  220,  where  Cleopatra  says  : 

"I  shall  see 
Some  squeaking  Cleopatra  boy  my  greatness"; 

and  Hamlet's  words  to  the  player,  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  448 : 

"What,  my  young  lady  and  mistress !  Pray  God.  your  voice,  like  a 
piece  of  uncurrent  gold,  be  not  cracked  within  the  ring." 

The  performances  generally  took  place  in  the  afternoon. 
It  would  seem  that  sometimes  one  penny  was  paid  for  admis- 
sion to  the  '  yard ',  another  penny  for  the  gallery,  and  another 
penny  for  a  good  place.  Sometimes,  however,  we  hear  of 
sixpence  and  a  shilling  being  paid  for  the  best  seats. 

The  Historia  Histrionica,  by  Jas.  Wright  (?),  (1699),  thus 
describes   London  theatres  before  the  war  of 
Charles  I.'s  time : — "The  Blackfriars  and  Globe      "f  London*"" 

on  the  Bankside,  a  winter  and  summer  house,   Theatres  before 

'          1642. 
belonging  to   the   same  company,   called  the 

King's  Servants :  the  Cockpit  or  Phoenix  in  Drury  Lane, 
called  the  Queen's  Servants :  the  Private  House  in  Salisbury 
Court,  called  the  Prince's  Servants  :  the  Fortune  near  White- 
cross  Street  and  the  Red  Bull  at  the  upper  end  of  St.  John's 
Street :  the  two  last  were  mostly  frequented  'by  citizens  and 
the  meaner  sort  of  people.  All  these  companies  got  money 
and  lived  in  reputation,  especially  those  of  the  Blackfriars, 
who  were  men  of  grave  and  sober  behaviour. 

"  Five  companies  then  !  and  two  now ! — The  prices  were 
small  (there  being  no  scenes) — and  better  order  kept :  so  that 
very  good  people  thought  a  play  an  innocent  diversion. 

"  It  is  an  argument  of  the  worth  of  the  plays  and  actors  of 
the  last  age . . .  that  they  could  support  themselves  merely  from 
their  own  merit,  the  weight  of  the  matter,  and  goodness  of  the 
action — without  scenes  and  machines. 

"  Ed.  Alleyn  built  the  Fortune,  a  large  round  brick  building. 

"  The  Blackfriars,  Cockpit,  and  Salisbury  Court  were  called 
private  houses  and  were  very  small  to  what  we  see  now.  The 


2a  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

three  almost  exactly  alike.  Here  they  had  pits  for  the  gentry 
and  acted  by  candlelight.  The  Globe,  Fortune,  and  Bull  were 
large  houses  and  lay  partly  open  to  the  weather,  and  there 
they  always  acted  by  daylight" 

4.  STAGE    HISTORY    OF   THE   PLAY. 

5  lo.  Very  little  information  is  preserved  to  us  with  respect 
Before  the      to  ^e  representation  of  particular  plays  under 
Restoration.     Elizabeth,  James  I.,  and  Charles  I.     But,  with 
regard    to   our   play,   we  have   one   reputed   record   which 
Halliwell1  gives  us  reason  to  accept  as  genuine. 
"  Revels  at  Court,  1604: 

"On  the  7  of  January  was  played  the  play  of  Henry  the 
fift  by  his  Maties  plaiers." 

Another  reference  to  our  play  is  found  in  a  funeral  elegy 
on  Richard  Burbage,  Shakespeare's  fellow-actor  (first  pub- 
lished in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1825,  Pt.  I.  p.  498): 

"  Poor  Romeo  never  more  shall  tears  beget 
For  Juliet's  love  and  cruel  Capulet; 
Harry  shall  not  be  seen  as  king  or  prince, 
They  died  with  thee.  dear  Dick  (and  not  long  since)". 

It  would  seem  that  the  first  occasion  after  the  Restoration 

on  which  Henty   V.  was  performed  was  on   Nov.  26,  1735, 

After  the      when  the  play  was  given  at  Goodman's  Fields 

Restoration.  Theatre.  Even  then  it  is  doubtful  if  this  was 
Shakespeare's  play,  and  if  we  are  not  to  make  our  first  date 
the  performance  given  at  Covent  Garden  on  Feb.  23,  1738. 
From  this  time  onwards  the  play  was  performed  about  once 
every  ten  years  at  Covent  Garden  or  Drury  Lane.  The  first 
performance  at  the  latter  theatre  took  place  on  Dec  16,  1747, 
when  the  part  of  the  King  was  taken  by  Barry,  that  of  the 
Archbishop  by  Delane,  and  the  Prologues  were  spoken  by 
Garrick.  We  are  told  that  Garrick  ''  for  some  unknown 
reason  declined  the  part  of  '  King  Harry ',  but  considered 
the  Chorus  worthy  of  his  elocutionary  powers.  He  spoke  the 

1  Outlinti  fftkt  Lift  o/Skaketfeare,  7th  ed.  ii.  162. 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

speeches  as  Mr.  Garrick,  arrayed  in  the  costume  of  the  day, 
a  full-dress  court  suit  with  powdered  bag-wig,  ruffles,  and 
sword."1  At  the  revival  of  the  play  at  Covent  Garden  on 
Nov.  30,  1761,  Smith  played  the  King.  The  management  as 
an  extra  attraction  gave  a  spectacular  representation  of  the 
'procession  from  the  Abbey  at  the  Coronation',  which  fully 
satisfied  the  public  though  their  expectations  had  been  much 
raised.  Mrs.  Bellamy  walked  in  the  procession  as  Queen. 

At  a  subsequent  revival  at  the  same  theatre  on  Sep.  22, 
1769,  a  different  spectacle  was  introduced,  viz.  the  Ceremony 
of  the  Champion,  and  a  live  horse,  it  is  said,  was  brought  on 
the  stage. 

In  1778  at  the  same  theatre,  when  the  play  with  the 
Coronation  scene  was  again  given,  the  King's  part  was  taken 
by  Wroughton. 

More  notable  is  J.  P.  Kemble's  revival  of  Henry  V.  at 
Drury  Lane  on  Oct.  i,  1789,  the  second  season  of  his  manage- 
ment. It  was  twenty  years  since  the  play  had 
been  last  performed  at  that  theatre.  Kemble  J'  P'  K' 
considered,  so  we  are  told,  that  the  part  of  Henry  V.  suited 
him  better  than  his  other  kings,  Richard  III.  and  John ;  "for 
reasons  as  much  mental  as  personal — the  pleasantry  which 
so  agreeably  in  Kemble  relieved  his  severer  habits,  and  the 
heroic  perfection  of  his  countenance  and  his  figure".  "As 
a  coup  de  theAtre,  his  starting  up  from  prayer  at  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet  (act  iv.  sc.  I,  end)  formed  one  of  the  most 
spirited  excitements  that  the  stage  has  ever  displayed."  2 

Kemble  omitted  all  the  Prologues  and  the  Epilogue,  some 
entire  scenes  (act  iii.  sc.  4,  sc.  7 ;  act  iv.  sc.  4)  and  many 
parts  of  scenes,  and  several  characters,  including  Jamy 
and  Macmorris.  In  act  iii.  sc.  6,  in  defiance  of  Shake- 
speare's custom  in  such  cases,  he  turned  Montjoy's  speech 

1  Cole's  Life  ofC.  Ktan  (1860),  p.  342. 

*  Boadcn's  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble  (1825),  v.  ii.  pp.  2,  8.  In  Kemble's 
tcting  version  of  the  play  the  above  scene  was  made  to  end  as  follows  :— 

1.  288.  "  Toward  heaven  to  pardon  blood.     More  will  I  do — 

(Trumpet  sounds.) 
The  di;-,  my  friends,  and  all  things  stay  for  me. 

(Flourish  of  Trumpets.     Exit.)  " 


24  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH. 

into  verse.  Kemble  continued  to  act  the  part  of  Henry  V.  at 
intervals  during  his  career,  up  till  181 1. 

In  a  performance  given  at  the  Haymarket  on  Sep.  5,  1803, 
another  very  celebrated  actor,  R.  W.  Elliston,  played  the  part 
of  the  King  (for  his  own  benefit). 

There  is  a  pathetic  interest  about  Edmund  Kean's  appear- 
ance in  the  part  of  the  King  at  Drury  Lane  on 

Edmund  Kean.      .  ,         ,     _  -  .        .  _,     . 

March  8,  1830.  It  was  the  last  Shakespearian 
character  which  the  veteran  actor  assumed :  he  broke  down 
in  it  and  apologized  to  the  audience  for  his  loss  of  memory. 

Meanwhile  the  part  had  become  associated  with  a  great 
actor  of  a  younger  generation,  W.  C.  Macready,  who  first 
played  it  at  Newcastle  in  1815,  and  afterwards 
y' at  Covent  Garden  (1819)*  and  Drury  Lane 
(1825).  Macready  twice  produced  Henry  V.  during  the  time 
he  was  manager  of  Covent  Garden.  The  first  revival  (Nov. 
14,  1837)  was,  we  are  told,  "crude  and  incomplete,  the  battle 
of  Agincourt  being  fought  by  gentlemen  in  silken  hose  and 
velvet  doublets,  while  not  a  single  bowman  was  visible ". 
With  the  second  revival  (June  10,  1839),  which  was  to  con- 
clude Macready's  management,  extraordinary  pains  were 
taken  to  ensure  completeness.2  Music  was  selected  from 
Purcell,  Handel,  and  Weber,  and  the  Prologues  spoken  by 
the  Chorus  (in  the  guise  of  an  aged  man  representing  Time) 
were  accompanied  by  pictorial  illustrations.  Thus  the  Pro- 
logue to  act  i.  was  illustrated  by  a  figure  in  armour  with 
three  furies  clinging  to  its  feet  (cp.  lines  5-8).  These  illus- 
trations excited  some  ridicule,  but  the  whole  performance  was 
received  with  acclamations.  Of  Macready  himself  in  the  part 
of  the  King  an  interesting  account  will  be  found  in  Lady 
Pollock's  Macready  tis  I  knew  him  ( \  884),  p.  113,  &c. 

Macready's  successor  as  an  interpreter  of  Shakespeare, 
Samuel  Phelps,  included  Henry  V.  among  the  many  Shake- 
spearian revivals  which  distinguished  his  man- 
Samuel  Phelps.  -  ..  .,  ,  ...  ,.  _,  T 

agement  of  Sadler's  Wells  Theatre.      It  was 

1  Macready's  Reminiscences  fed.  Pollock1.  1876.  p.  144. 

*  For  an  account,  see  Macrtady,   by  W.  Archer    'Eminent   Actors'  series', 
p.  121. 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

produced  there  on  Oct.  25,  1852  (St.  Crispin's  Day).  The 
Chorus  (Mr.  H.  Marston)  appeared  between  each  scene 
exalted  on  a  framed  platform  in  his  costume  of  Time. 

Phelps's  rival,  Charles  Kean,  produced  Henry  V.  at  the 
Princess's  Theatre  on  March  28,  1859,  as  the  last  Shake- 
spearian revival  of  his  management.  The 

T»I  •  i         x/r          /— i        i  Charles  Kean. 

Prologues  were  now  given  by  Mrs.  Charles 
Kean  (Miss  Ellen  Tree)  in  the  Character  of  Clio,  the  Muse 
of  History.  A  scene  was  introduced  into  the  play  repre- 
senting Henry's  entry  into  London,  and  the  concluding 
spectacle  was  the  betrothal  of  Henry  and  Katharine  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Troyes.  The  play  was  acted  eighty-four  times. 
Kean,  in  his  speech  before  the  curtain  on  his  retirement, 
Aug.  29,  1859,  boasted  of  the  historical  accuracy  with  which 
it  was  produced.  "  The  siege  of  Harfleur  as  presented  on  this 
stage  .  .  .  was  no  ideal  battle,  no  imaginary  fight :  it  was 
a  correct  representation  of  what  actually  had  taken  place :  the 
engines  of  war,  the  guns,  banners,  fire-balls,  the  attack  and 
defence,  the  barricades  at  the  breach,  the  conflagration  within 
the  town,  the  assault  and  capitulation  were  all  taken  from  the 
account  left  to  us  by  a  priest  who  accompanied  the  army, — 
was  an  eye-witness,  and  whose  Latin  manuscript  is  now  in 
the  British  Museum." 

The  increased  demand  for  historical  accuracy  here  exem- 
plified is  worth  noting  as  characteristic  of  the  modern  stage. 
It  is  to  be  remembered,  however,  that  historical  accuracy  is 
not  the  essential  thing  in  a  representation,  but  true  dramatic 
passion.1  In  this  Charles  Kean  seems  hardly  to  have  equalled 
his  great  predecessors,2  and  since  his  time  there  has  been  no 
very  notable  presentation  of  the  play  to  a  London  audience. 

There  is  a  well-known  engraving  of  J.  P.  Kemble  as 
Henry  V.  Tallis's  Drawing-room  Table  Book,  part  xix., 
gives  portraits  of  Mme  Celeste  as  the  Princess  Katharine 
and  Mr.  W.  Davidge  as  Pistol. 

1  See  G.  H.  Lewes'  Life  ofGoelfa  (1875),  p.  112. 

*  For  a  favourable  estimate  of  Kean's  acting  of  the  part  of  the  King,  see  Cole's 
Life  ofC.  Kean  (1860),  p.  344,  &c. 


26  KINC.    IIKNRY    TI1K    FIFTH. 


5.  CRITICAL  APPRECIATION  OF  THE  PLAY. 

§  n.  The  two  Parts  of  Henry  IV.  and  the  play  of  Henry  V., 

written  shortly  after  them,  and  forming  a  sequel  to  them, 

together    constitute     that    group     of    English 

Position  of  .   *        , 

Henry  v.  Histoncs,  belonging  to  the  middle  period  of 
Shakespeare'*  Shakespeare's  career,  in  which  History  and 
other  hngiish  Comedy  are  mingled  in  almost  equal  propor- 

1  H  istories '.  .  .  .    .       . ,          , 

tions,  in  which  the  character-drawing  is  most 
masterly,  and  the  literary  expression  most  faultless.  In  the 
earliest  group  of  plays  dealing  with  English  History,  the  three 
parts  of  Henry  VI.  and  Richard  ///.,  Shakespeare  is  working 
on  the  lines  of,  or  in  conjunction  with,  others,  and  in  the  spirit 
rather  of  Marlowe  than  of  his  gentler  and  profounder  self:  in 
the  transitional  plays,  Richard  II.  and  Kingjohn^  while  free- 
ing himself  from  Marlowe's  influence  and  gaining  in  subtlety 
and  variety,  he  has  not  attained  to  full  mastery  of  his  powers, 
and  betrays  a  young  man's  weakness  for  verbal  conceits  and 
lyrical  prettinesses.  The  expression  sometimes  outruns  the 
thought,  just  as  in  the  plays  written  at  the  end  of  his  life  the 
thought  often  outruns  the  expression.  In  Henry  IV.  and 
Henry  V.  thought  and  expression  are  in  the  noblest  harmony 
and  balance.  To  quote  Mr.  Swinburne1 — 

"  It  is  in  the  middle  period  of  his  work  that  the  language 
of  Shakespeare  is  most  limpid  in  its  fullness,  the  style  most 
pure,  the  thought  most  transparent  through  the  close  and 
luminous  raiment  of  perfect  expression.  The  conceits  and 
crudities  of  the  first  stage  are  outgrown  and  cast  aside:  the 
harshness  and  obscurity  which  at  times  may  strike  us  as 
among  the  notes  of  his  third  manner  have  as  yet  no  place  in 
the  flawless  work  of  this  his  second  stage."  And  further,2 
"The  ripest  fruit  of  historic  or  national  drama,  the  consum- 
mation and  the  crown  of  Shakespeare's  labours  in  that  line, 
must  of  course  be  recognized  and  saluted  by  all  students  in 
the  supreme  and  sovereign  trilogy  of  King  Henry  IV.  and 
King  Henry  F.". 

1  Study  <</ Skakesptart.  p.  66.  *  Ib.  p.  68. 


INTRODUCTION.  27 

But  Henry  V.,  as  has  been  said,  is  not  only  a  work  of  the 
same  period,  and  of  the  same  general  character  as  the  two 
Parts  of  Henry  IV.,  it  is  the  sequel  to  them,  and 
can  only  be  fully  understood  in  the  light   of     <bSj£" 
them.     To  the  audience  of  1599  assembled  to  Henry  v.  and 
see   the   new  play,    Harry   the    King  and   his 
brothers,  Westmoreland  and  Warwick,  Falstaff  and  his  boy, 
Bardolph,  Pistol,  and  Gower  were  old  acquaintances ;  all  had 
played  their  parts  in  Henry  IV.;  the  latter  of  them  with  Nym 
had  figured  also  in  the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.     It  is  clear 
that,  thoroughly  to  enter  into  the  characters  of  our  play,  we 
must  have  a  similar  acquaintance  with  the  plays  which  had 
gone  before. 

§  12.  But  if  there  is  this  close  bond  of  union  between 
Henry   V.  and  the  two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  there  are  also 
points  of  contrast.     In  the  Epilogue  to  Henry 
IV.,  Part  2,  the  audience   had  been   prepared       between* 
for  a  new  play   in  which   the  comic  element     H,e"^y  iy\r 

r     •  and  Henry  V. 

should  still  centre  round  the  figure  of  Falstaff: 
"  If  you  be  not  too  much  cloyed  with  fat  meat",  they  had  been 
told,  "  our  humble  author  will  continue  the  story  with  Sir  John 
in  it,  and  make  you  merry  with  fair  Katharine  of  France ; 
where  for  anything  I  know"  (i.e.  'I,  the  speaker  of  the 
Epilogue ')  "  Falstaff  shall  die  of  a  sweat ".  It  can  hardly  be 
said  that  this  promise  was  fulfilled.  When  the  story  was 
continued,  it  appeared  that  Sir  John  was,  after  all,  not  in  it. 
Hostess  Quickly  told  how  he  had  died :  and  that  was  all. 
The  scenes  of  frolic  and  wine-bibbing  and  practical  joking, 
the  encounters  of  wit  and  chaff  in  which  the  unwieldy  knight 
and  his  sweet  Hal  had  so  often  taken  part  together  were  over 
and  done,  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  pure  comedy  the  new 
play  was  the  worse  for  the  change.  Falstaff  was  ill  replaced 
by  Pistol  and  Fluellen  and  the  fair  Katharine  of  France. 

Shakespeare,  for  some  reason,  had  departed  from  his 
original  purpose.  And  perhaps  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek. 
It  sprang  out  of  the  circumstances  treated  in  the  play.  So 
long  as  Henry  had  been  merely  Prince  of  Wales,  he  had 
had  none  of  the  responsibility  of  government.  Born  with 


28  KING    HliXKY    THE    FIFTH. 

a  healthy  Denial  nature,  and  an  honest  love  of  truth  and 
reality,   he  could  not  be  content  to  pass   the 
Hcn?"vlo?roin  May  morn  of  his  youth    in   the   close   atmo- 
charartcrl'and  sphere  of  statecraft  and  dissimulation:  he  must 
Death  of      go  out  from  his  father's  court,  mix  with  all  con- 
ditions of  men,  see  things  from  all  sides,  and 
while  seeming  only  to  laugh,  feel  within  himself  that  he  was 
learning  to  understand,  (among  other  things  to  understand 
the  worthlessness  of  his  associates).     And  so  in  the  play  of 
Henry  IV.  he  is  the  link  which  binds  the  serious  and  the 
comic  characters  together. 

But  with  the  Prince's  succession  to  the  throne  he  can  no 
longer,  if  he  is  a  worthy  man,  live  the  same  life.  What  he 
has  learnt  must  now  be  put  in  practice:  the  cares  of  state,  the 
good  of  his  people  will  tax  all  his  powers.  And,  since  there 
is  a  higher  duty  than  loyalty  to  old  companions,  the  first  act 
of  Henry's  new  time  must  be  that  described  in  2  Henry  IV. 
v.  4,  the  dismissal  of  his  old  boonfellows.  And  so  Falstaflfs 
expectation  of  new  favours  is  bitterly  disappointed.  As  he 
accosts  his  old  associate  in  a  public  place, 

"  My  King!  my  Jove!  I  speak  to  thee,  my  heart!  " 

he  is  answered  even  harshly : 

"  I  know  thee  not,  old  man ;  fall  to  thy  prayers : 
Presume  not  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was  ; 
For  God  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 
That  I  have  turned  away  my  former  self. 
So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  company  ". 

It  was  no  doubt  well  that  the  King's  action  should  be  thus 
decisive,  and  that  when  we  see  him  first  in  the  play  which 
bears  his  name,  he  should  show  nothing  of  his  'wilder  days1 
except  the  use  he  made  of  them.  But  his  action,  if  right,  was 
still,  even  towards  that  'grey  iniquity',  Falstaff,  somewhat 
cruel,  as  right  actions  tire  sometimes :  and  Shakespeare  seems 
to  have  felt  that  it  would  be  too  much  to  expect  the  old  man 
to  make  mirth  any  more.  So  with  the  highest  art  he  tells 
us  how  he  died :  tells  us  this  by  the  mouth  of  a  coarse  and 


INTRODUCTION.  29 

common  woman,  and  yet  with  such  a  subtle  appeal  to  our 
humanity  in  the  suggestion  of  the  half-return  to  childhood 
before  death  that  our  last  thought  of  Falstaff  is  a  kind  one. 
"  The  King  has  killed  his  heart."  "  Falstaff  is  dead,  and  we 
must  yearn  therefore." 

With  Falstaff  dismissed  or  dead,  the  King  is  completely 
separated  from  the  low  characters,  Bardolph  and  Pistol, 
whom  he  had  once  known  as  Falstaff  s  satellites.  They  and 
Nym  furnish  scenes  of  comic  relief  to  the  loftier  interest  of 
the  play;  but  in  these  scenes  the  King  has  no  part.  The  good 
Fluellen  amuses  the  audience  with  his  pedantry,  his  hot  blood 
and  his  bad  English— and  Henry  knows  him,  likes  him,  and 
talks  with  him,  but  himself  contributes  little  to  the  comedy 
of  the  situation.  Whereas  in  Henry  IV.  he  was  the  centre  of 
the  comic  scenes,  here  he  is  apart  from  them :  and  the  con- 
sequence is  a  double  one — while  the  comic  scenes  are  the 
poorer  for  the  loss  both  of  Falstaff  and  Hal,  the  character  of 
Henry  himself  in  its  new-found  singleness  and  consistency, 
in  its  heroic  triumph  over  difficulties,  in  its  devotion  to  a 
serious  purpose,  soars  to  heights  unattained  before,  and  be- 
comes almost  the  all-sufficing  interest  of  the  new  play. 

§  1 3.  We  find  then  the  key  to  Henry  V.  in  the  character  of 
the  King,  a  character  already  formed  when  the  play  opens 
and  only  needing  occasion  to  show  its  various  .,  .  . 

.*.  Main  interest 

capabilities.  For  it  must  be  remarked  that  in  of  Henry  v. 
Henry's  soul  we  see  no  signs  of  internal  conflict,  of^helSn'g' 
present  or  past.  The  play,  so  far  as  he  is  con-  ,a  character 

*;  **  already  formed 

cerned,  will  have  none  of  that  interest  which  when  the  play 
we  commonly  look  for  in  drama ;  the  interest  represented  as 
which  is  excited  when  one  passion  is  seen  con-  having  derived 

.  only  good  from 

tending  with  another  in  the  same  human  breast,          past 
so  that  the  victory  of  this  or  that  is  ever  in  sus-    exPenences- 
pense.    Nor  will  it  have  the  interest  of  curiosity  which  attaches 
to  the  presentation  of  a  character  warped  and  twisted  by 
previous  ill-doing. 

Whatever  the  furnace  through  which  Henry  has  passed, 
he  has  come  out  of  it  unscathed,  nay,  nobly  tempered.  His 
sweet  nature  has  been  able  to  take  all  the  good  and  leave  the 


30  KINO!    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

evil ;  it  has  grown,  as  the  Bishop  of  Ely  says,  like  the  straw- 
berry underneath  the  nettle.  In  his  prayer  to  God  not  to 
remember  his  father's  sin  against  him,  there  is,  as  Mr. 
Morris  remarks,  no  confession  of  an  ill-spent  youth. 

And  if  we  read  the  two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  with  attention, 
we  shall  see  how  carefully  Shakespeare  points  out  that  the 
Prince  was  never  enslaved  by  evil  passions,  never  in  his 
merriest  moods  blind  to  unworthiness  about  him,  but  was 
content  to  be  misjudged,  content  with  anything  rather  than 
to  be  thought  a  hypocrite,  while  he  waited  for  the  day  when 
he  should  show  himself  in  his  true  colours. 

"  Who!  I  rob?  I,  a  thief?  not  I,  by  my  faith",  he  protests 
(Pt.  I.  i.  I.  85),  and  when  he  has  fallen  in  with  Poins's  plot 
to  have  a  laugh  out  of  Falstaff,  he  is  made  in  a  soliloquy  to 
show  the  terms  on  w  hich  he  acts  (i.  2.  240) : 

"  I'll  so  offend  to  make  offence  £.  skill ; 
Redeeming  time  when  men  least  think  I  will". 

And  discriminating  observers  were  not  deceived  in  him. 
Vernon,  after  praising  his  agility  and  horsemanship  (iv.  l) 
and  the  modesty  with  which  he  challenged  Hotspur  (v.  2), 

tells  how  he 

"  chid  his  truant  youth  with  such  a  grace 
As  if  he  mastered  there  a  double  spirit 
Of  teaching  and  of  learning  instantly. 
There  did  he  pause ;  but  let  me  tell  the  world 
If  he  outlive  the  envy  of  this  day. 
England  did  never  owe  (  =  own )  so  sweet  a  hope, 
So  much  misconstrued  in  his  wantonness". 

Henry's  gallantry  in  war  already  went  far  to  justify  Vernon's 
words,  but  in  Pt.  II.  iv.  4.  68,  &c.,  Westmoreland  reassures 
the  troubled  king  on  the  prince's  relation  to  his  riotous 
companions : 

' '  The  prince  will  in  the  perfectness  of  time 
Cast  off  his  followers ;  and  their  memory 
Shall  as  a  pattern  or  a  measure  live 
By  which  his  grace  must  mete  the  lives  of  others. 
Turning  past  evils  to  advantages". 

Shakespeare  is  far  from  teaching  that  an  ordinary  man 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

can  live  among  low  surroundings  and  come  out  the  better 
rather  than  the  worse,  and  with  this  general  moral  question 
we  have  nothing  to  do.  All  I  have  tried  to  establish  is  this, 
that  Henry  V.,  as  we  find  him  at  the  opening  of  the  play,  has 
not  passed  through  any  process  of  violent  conversion ;  nor 
does  he  carry  within  him  a  turmoil  of  contrary  passions. 
The  time  that  seemed  mis-spent,  thanks  to  a  happy  nature 
which  rejected  evil,  had  been  indeed  well  spent.  At  the 
opening  of  Henry  V.  the  sound-hearted  man,  trained  in  the 
art  of  war,  in  observation  of  men,  in  a  modest  estimate  of 
himself,  stands  ready  to  fight  a  battle  with  external  circum- 
stances, and  to  issue  from  it  victorious.  The  play  which  tells 
the  tale  of  that  battle  will  be  almost  as  much  epic  as  drama. 

Henry,  then,  as  has  been  well  said,  represents  the  ideal 
man  of  action.     There  is  no  discord  within  the 
circle  of  his   soul:   his   fightings  are  without,  charac^within 
But  the  circle  is  to  some  extent  a  limited  one.    its  !i,mits,t?Jbe1 

considered  ideal. 

Henry  has  none  of  those  soundings  of  the 
moral  depths  which  we  see  in  Hamlet — he  is  well  content  to 
accept  on  questions  of  right  and  wrong  the  decision  of  the 
Church.  He  does  not  shrink  from  severity  in  punishment  or 
cruelty  in  war,  but  where  severity  and  cruelty  are  demanded 
acts  without  a  qualm.  When  he  pleads  with  a  lady  for  her 
love,  it  is  in  no  terms  of  kindled  imagination  or  poetry,  but 
as  '  plain  soldier'  making  the  offer  of  a  'good  heart'.  It  may 
be  said  by  some  that  Shakespeare,  whose  spirit  was  itself  so 
much  vaster,  means  us  to  note  with  a  touch  of  scorn  these 
limitations  in  the  King,  to  see  in  him  indeed  a  great  English- 
man, but  to  wish  at  the  same  time  that  he  were  something 
more.1  But  Shakespeare  has  no  such  intention.  He,  poet 
as  he  is,  loves  this  '  plain  soldier'  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart,  and  means  us  to  do  the  same.  Even  to  the  all-embrac- 
ing vision  of  a  poet,  the  world  can  show  nothing  finer  than  a 
hero. 

1  Mr.  Swinburne  in  his  Study  of  Shakespeare  speaks  of  Henry  V.  as  'a  hero 
after  the  future  pattern  of  Hastings  and  of  Clive'.  If  he  means  by  this  that 
Shakespeare  intends  us  to  give  Henry  only  the  qualified  admiration  which  we 
accord  to  the  two  others,  I  differ  from  him  completely. 


32  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

§  14.  The  process  by  which  Shakespeare  gradually  reveals 

characteristic   to  tne  audience  the  greatness  and  beauty  of 

Tram.        Henry's  character  will  be  pointed  out  in  the 

Introductions  to  the  various  scenes.     I  can  only  here  touch 

on  a  few  traits. 

Henry  is  a  man  of  conscience.  He  will  not  make  an  unjust 
war  (i.  2). 

He  is  already  a  prudent  statesman.  Hefore  he  resolves  on 
going  to  France,  he  must  be  assured  that  England  will  be 
in  no  danger  from  the  Scotch  (i.  2).  But  if  he  is  slow  in 
coming  to  a  resolution,  when  his  resolution  is  taken  he  is 
incapable  of  faltering.  He  meets  insult  with  scorn  (i.  2). 

When  he  is  confronted  by  the  treachery  of  his  closest 
friends,  his  feeling  rises  above  mere  personal  resentment  in 
the  sense  of  the  ruin  wrought  by  such  treachery  to  man's 
confidence  in  man  (ii.  2).  And  this  moral  indignation  of  a 
noble  character  has  its  effect  in  producing  compunction  in 
the  culprits.  He  inflicts  the  punishment  of  death  in  the  spirit 
not  of  vindictiveness,  but  of  that  justice  which  is  essential  to 
the  public  good.  "  He  has  no  weakness,  not  even  the  noble 
weakness  of  mercy"  (Moulton).  In  the  hour  of  fighting  he 
is  a  very  tiger  (iii.  i),  but  in  his  march  through  the  enemy's 
country  he  will  permit  no  sort  of  outrage  or  excess  (iii.  6). 
When  his  situation  becomes  an  anxious  one,  and  the  foe  sends 
him  a  message  of  contemptuous  defiance,  he  makes  no  secret  of 
his  enfeebled  stale,  and  still  shows  himself  quietly  undaunted 

"Yet,  God  l>efore.  tell  him  we  will  come  on 
Though  France  himself  and  such  another  neighbour 
Stand  in  r>ur  way." 

As  Mr.  Moulton  says,  "We  listen  for  counter-defiance  .  biu 
counter-defiance  is,  after  all,  following  the  enemy's  lead,  and 
Henry  passes  beyond  it  to  the  quietest  possible  ignoring  of 
the  elaborately-framed  challenge".  And  his  quietude  of  mind 
rests  on  religious  faith. 

"  We  are  in  God's  hand,  brother,  not  in  theirs"  (iiL  6). 

In  the  night-scene  before  the  battle  of  Agincourt  (iv.  i) 
''his  cheerfulness  is  unflagging  and  he  can  extract  some  soul 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

of  goodness  from  every  dull  surrounding ".  "  As  he  moves 
about  the  camp  in  the  darkness  and  accosts  every  variety  of 
his  followers,  he  catches  instantly  the  exact  tone  in  which  to 
address  each  and  call  forth  from  each  a  characteristic  flash 
of  enthusiasm"  (Moulton). 

In  his  conversation  with  the  soldiers  (iv.  i)  he  shows  that 
power  of  entering  into  the  thoughts  of  common  men  which 
he  had  learnt  in  the  freedom  of  his  'wilder  days',  although 
now  his  strain  is  a  serious  one. 

Left  alone,  he  passes  through  an  inward  crisis,  almost 
overwhelmed  in  this  hour  of  danger  by  the  responsibility  of 
kingship.  Then  falling  on  his  knees,  he  prays  God  to  give 
his  soldiers  courage  and  not  to  punish  him  for  his  father's 
usurpation  of  the  crown. 

Summoned  to  prepare  for  battle,  he  is  once  more  the  hero 
in  action,  and  utters  that  speech  of  glowing  valour,  humorous 
realism,  and  generous  comradeship  which,  as  Kreyssig  says, 
is  "  the  highest  example  of  heroic  oratory  in  the  whole  litera- 
ture of  the  world  "  (iv.  3). 

Such  is  the  leader  of  one  of  the  armies  that  were  to  fight  at 
Agincourt,  such  the  truly  English  spirit  which  flamed  in  him 
to  the  point  of  heroism. 

§  15.  If  we  now  compare  Henry's  antagonists  with  himself, 
we  shall  see  a  dramatic  contrast  of  the  most  The  character  of 
striking  kind,  the  contrast  between  pretence  and  . the  French  set 

.  .in  strong  contrast 

reality — boasting  and  modesty — trust  in  num-     with  that  of 
bers  and  trust  in  God.     This  contrast  is  mosttheEnglishKing 
marked  in  the  person  of  the  Dauphin,  but  it  holds  also  with 
the  French  in  general. 

The  gift  of  tennis  balls  (i.  2)  is  the  first  indication  of  the 
Dauphin's  insolent  spirit,  and  of  that  utter  misconception  of 
Henry's  character  which  he  expresses  in  words  in  ii.  4.  In 
iii.  5  the  same  spirit  of  contempt  is  shown  by  the  whole  French 
Court,  and  seems  justified,  as  men  count  chances,  by  the  vast 
odds  on  their  side.  How  can  Henry  do  anything  but  sue  for 
ransom,,  when — 

"  his  numbers  are  so  few. 
His  soldiers  sick  and  famish'd  on  their  march", 

(M178)  C 


34  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH. 

and  he  has  against  him  so  many  "high  dukes,  great  princes, 
barons,  lords,  and  knights"?  And  so  follows  the  insolent 
message  of  iii.  6,  to  which  Henry  replies  so  quietly  and  so 
undauntedly.  But  the  great  contrast  is  presented  on  the 
night  before  the  battle.  While  the  English  king  goes  the 
round  of  his  dejected  men,  and  lets  them  pluck  comfort  and 
new  courage  from  his  looks,  the  French  princes  are  rhapso- 
dizing over  their  horses,  playing  dice  for  the  prisoners  they 
have  not  yet  taken,  and  sighing  like  children  for  the  day 
(iii.  7).  They  make  very  light  of  the  coming  battle  : 
"  A  very  little  little  let  us  do 
And  all  is  done  ".  (iv.  2.) 

Aristocratic  insolence,  idle  chatter,  vaunting  of  numbers  and 
armour  and  horses,  this  on  the  one  side ;  and  on  the  other, 
seriousness,  forethought,  modest  courage,  brotherliness,  sub- 
mission to  God. 

§  1 6.  And  this  contrast  gives  a  new  character  to  the  great 

central  action  of  our  play,  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  which  is  now 

Hence  the  battle  ra'se(i  ('n  tne  words  of  Mr.  Morris ')  "from  the 

of  Agincourt      historic  level  of  a  conflict  between  '  two  mighty 

acquires  the  char-  .  ,  _;    . 

acterofa  monarchies  to  the  epic  height  of  a  Divine 
divine  judgment.  decisi(m  and  judgment.  We  are  witnesses  of 
something  more  than  national  prowess  or  personal  achieve- 
ment, however  heroic  ", — we  witness  the  vindication  by  Divine 
Providence  of  that  moral  law  in  accordance  with  which 
wisdom  prospers  and  folly  perishes  miserably. 

And  so  when  the  little  band  of  Englishmen  has  vanquished 

the  hosts  of  the  French,  and  when  the  list  of  the  slain  shows 

25  dead  on   the  one  side  and  10,000  on  the  other,  Henry's 

deep  character,  as   Mr.   Moulton  says,  "perceives  a   point 

beyond  triumph  ".    "  O  God,"  he  cries,  "  Thy  arm  was  here !" 

§  17.  And  what  has  been  the  effect  upon  the  audience  of 

what  they  have  seen?     Surely  in  the  first   place  a  warm 

And  the  main    admiration  for  the  hero   King  and  his  brave 

of  the  play—    companions,  and  next  a  deepened  sense  of  a 

it)  personal.     Divine    Power  ruling  the  issues  of  events  in 

2   religious, 

(31  patriotic,     righteousness.      And   with   these   feelings   has 

1  Keynote*  cj 'Shakespeare 't  Playt  ,1686],  p.  30. 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

come  a  third.  The  men  who,  under  God,  won  the  battle  of 
Agincourt  were  Englishmen,  and  the  virtues  they  showed 
there  were  the  characteristic  virtues  of  the  best  Englishmen 
in  all  ages.  Could  the  descendants  of  these  men  see  their 
deeds  enacted  without  feeling,  besides  all  other  things,  a 
quickened  patriotism? 

§  1 8.  It  has  been  convenient  to  consider  the  effect  of  the 
main  subject  of  the  play  before  proceeding  to  touch  on  act  v., 
in  which  the  King  appears  in  the  character  of  Henry  v.  in 
a  wooer.  This  scene  was  objected  to  by  Dr.  Actv. 
Johnson  on  the  ground  that  the  King  had  "neither  the 
vivacity  of  Hal  nor  the  grandeur  of  Henry".  But  Shake- 
speare showed  a  deeper  artistic  sense  when  he  chose  to  end 
his  play  with  this  scene  of  merely  playful  love-making.  To 
have  heightened  the  tone  and  made  Henry  a  Romeo,  or  on 
the  other  hand  to  have  made  the  scene  wildly  mirthful  and 
the  King  a  Hal,  would  have  been  to  distract  the  attention  of 
the  audience  from  the  main  interest  of  the  play  and  confuse 
the  simple  lines  of  Henry's  character.  The  view  of  Henry 
which  the  poet  wished  to  leave  with  them  was  that  of  the 
soldier-king:1  it  was  not  to  be  confounded  with  any  other 
presentation  of  him  rivalling  this  in  depth  of  interest. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  hard  to  imagine  Shakespeare's 
Harry  the  Fifth,  after  years  of  statesmanship  and  campaign- 
ing, making  love  in  a  way  very  different  from  that  which  is 
represented.  But  whether  that  be  so  or  no,  Shakespeare's 
treatment  of  the  scene  preserved  the  dramatic  unity  of  the 
play  and  allowed  the  audience  to  go  away,  as  Shakespeare 
intended,  with  their  minds  dwelling  not  on  Harry  the  wooer, 
but  on  Harry,  the  victor  of  Agincourt. 

§  19.  In  Henry  V.,  as  has  been  said  already,  History  is 
wedded  to  Comedy.      The  comic  scenes  are  of  somewhat 
unequal  merit :  none  of  them,  except  the  scene 
in  which  Falstaff  's  death  is  told,  approach  the      co^ic^with 
great  comic   scenes  of  Henry  IV.     Yet  these    "P0"5  interest 

'  in  the  play. 

scenes,  as  will  be  pointed  out  in  the  Introduc- 
tions prefixed  to  the  notes  upon  them,  serve  the  end  which 

1  See  also  Appendix  II.  '  Prose '  on  this  topic. 


36  KING    HENRY    THE   FIFTH. 

Shakespeare  set  before  himself  in  his  treatment  of  history, 
and  they  contain  some  carefully  drawn  characters  whose 
humours  are  a  perennial  delight. 

The  secret  of  Shakespeare  may  be  said  to  lie  in  his  possess- 
ing two  intellectual  powers,  each  in  the  highest  degree, 
powers  never  possessed  in  such  perfect  balance  by  any  other 
man.  The  one  power  is  the  poet's  deep  perception  of  the 
Beautiful :  the  other,  the  realist's  clear  sight  and  enjoyment 
of  this  incongruous  world  of  which  Beauty  forms  so  elusive 
an  element.  Some  men  have  eyes  for  Beauty  only,  some  only 
for  its  setting.  Shakespeare  sees  both  and  sees  both  at  the 
same  time,  and  in  his  art  he  uses  each  to  throw  up  the 
other.  Henry  V.  and  Fluellen  shine  out  the  more  for  not 
being  in  a  sphere  apart,  but  in  the  same  world  with  Pistol 
and  Nym,  with  them  but  not  of  them.  And  Shakespeare 
sees  that  the  same  law  holds  in  the  'little  world'  of  a  single 
human  soul.  We  love  the  good  Fluellen  the  better  for  his 
pedantic  oddity  and  his  hot  Welsh  blood.  Even  the  King 
himself  becomes  a  more  absolute  hero  for  that  blithe  every- 
day humour  and  good-fellowship  which  brings  him  so  near 
to  us. 

Bardolph  and  Nym  and  Pistol  are  indeed  little  better  than 
cowardly  scoundrels,  the  blackguards  of  the  King's  army, 
who  have  gone  to  France 

"  Like  horse-leeches,  my  boys. 
To  sucV,  to  suck,  the  very  blood  to  suck  " ; 

and,  when  Bardolph  and  Nym  have  been  hanged  for  their 
robberies  and  the  braggart  Pistol  has  been  humiliated  by 
Fluellen,  we  feel  that  they  have  well  deserved  their  reward. 
And  yet  we  have  learned  to  know  them  so  well,  Bardolph 
the  'red-faced  and  white-livered',  Pistol  eternally  quoting  his 
bombastic  scraps  from  bad  plays,  Nym  with  his  monotonous 
slang  of  the  day,  that  we  have  a  sneaking  liking  for  them  all. 
And  they  too,  as  Shakespeare  saw  them,  had  some  touches 
of  better  things.  Bardolph  has  his  word  of  regret  for  his  old 
master  Falstaff,  "Would  I  were  with  him,  wheresome'er  he  is, 
either  in  heaven  or  in  hell",  and  Pistol  his  poor  flash  of  admir- 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

ation  for  the  hero-king,  "I  love  the  lovely  bully!"  For  the 
shrewd  Boy  who  dies  at  Agincourt  with  the  keepers  of  the 
baggage,  we  have  a  still  livelier  regret. 

§  20.  Henry  V.  is  wanting  in  dramatic  development ;  in  its 
inner  structure  as  well  as  in  the  addition  of  its  magnificent 
prologues,  it  partakes  even  of  the  character  of 

,-,  ,  .  .  Summing  up. 

an  epic.  Some  of  its  comic  scenes  are  poorer 
than  those  which  we  look  for  in  Shakespeare.  In  some  of 
the  serious  scenes,  in  his  treatment  of  the  French,  Shake- 
speare may  have  seemed  to  descend  to  caricature,  which 
we  can  only  excuse  by  pleading  that  by  this  treatment  he 
heightened  the  ethical  significance  of  his  main  action,  and 
that  he  tried  to  remove  the  offence  at  the  end  of  the  play  by 
introducing  the  prayer  in  which  we  seem  to  hear  his  own 

voice — 

"That  never  war  advance 
His  bleeding  sword  'twixt  England  and  fair  France". 

But  it  is  ungracious  to  point  out  defects  where  there  is  so 
much  to  admire.  No  play  of  Shakespeare,  and  to  say  this 
is  to  say,  no  work  of  imagination  ever  written,  strikes  so 
widely-vibrating  a  note.  Lovers  of  poetry  and  eloquence  will 
wonder  for  ever  at  its  prologues  and  heroic  speeches :  lovers 
of  Shakespeare  and  of  Shakespeare's  men  will  cherish  in  it  a 
work  in  which  the  soul  of  Shakespeare  reveals  its  ideal  of  a 
hero:  lovers  of  humanity  will  rejoice  in  its  folk-scenes, 
everywhere  animated  by  the  spirit  of  brotherhood  between 
high  and  low.  To  Englishmen  Henry  V.  will  ever  be  a 
trumpet-note,  ringing  with  the  achievements  of  a  glorious 
past,  and  calling  them  to  fresh  achievements  in  the  future. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONS 

KING  HENRY  the  FIFTH. 

DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER,  i  , 

>  brothers  to  the  Kuic. 
I>CKE  OF  BEDFORD.        I 

UUKR  OF  EXRTER,  uncle  to  the  King. 

DUKE  op  YOKK,  cousin  to  the  King. 

EARLS  OF  SALISBURY.  WESTMORLAND,  and  WARWICK. 

ARCHBISHOF  OF  CANTERBURY. 

HISHOP  OF  ELY. 

KAKI.  OK  CAMBRIDGE. 

LORD  SCROOP. 

SIR  THOMAS  GREY. 

SIR  THOMAS  KKH.NC.IIAM,  COWER,   FLU  ELLEN,  MACMORKIS.  JAMY,  officer*  in 

King  Henry's  army. 

BATES,  COURT,  WILLIAMS,  soldiers  in  the  tame. 
PISTOL,  NYM,  BARDOLPH. 
Boy. 

A  Herald. 

CHAKLBS  the  SIXTH,  King  of  France. 
LEWIS,  the  Dauphin. 

DUKES  OF  BUKGU XUY,  ORLEANS,  and  BOURBON. 
The  Constable  of  France. 
KAMHUKHS  and  GRASDFKB,  French  Lords. 
Governor  of  Harfleur. 
MONTJOY,  a  French  Herald. 
Ambassadors  to  the  King  of  England. 

ISABEL,  Queen  of  France. 
KATHAKINF,  daughter  to  Charles  and  Isabel 
ALICE,  a  lady  attending  on  her. 

Hostess  of  a  tavern  in  Eastcheap,  formerly  Mistress  Quickly,  and  now  married 
to  Pistol. 

Lords,  Ladies,  Officers,  Soldiers.  Citizens,  Messengers,  and  Attendant*. 
Chorus. 

SCENE:  England;  •  (/itnuardt  fraitft. 


PROLOGUE. 
Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  O  for  a  Muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 
The  brightest  heaven  of  invention, 
A  kingdom  for  a  stage,  princes  to  act 
And  monarchs  to  behold  the  swelling  scene ! 
Then  should  the  warlike  Harry,  like  himself, 
Assume  the  port  of  Mars ;  and  at  his  heels, 
Leash'd  in  like  hounds,  should  famine,  sword  and  fire 
Crouch  for  employment.     But  pardon,  gentles  aU 
The  flat  unraised  spirits  that  hath  dared 
On  this  unworthy  scaffold  to  bring  forth  1C 

So  great  an  object :  can  this  cockpit  hold 
The  vasty  fields  of  France?  or  may  we  cram 
Within  this  wooden  O  the  very  casques 
That  did  affright  the  air  at  Agincourt? 
O,  pardon !  since  a  crooked  figure  may 
Attest  in  little  place  a  million ; 
And  let  us,  ciphers  to  this  great  accompt, 
On  your  imaginary  forces  work. 
Suppose  within  the  girdle  of  these  walls 

Are  now  confined  two  mighty  monarchies,  20 

Whose  high  upreared  and  abutting  fronts 
The  perilous  narrow  ocean  parts  asunder : 
Piece  out  our  imperfections  with  your  thoughts ; 
Into  a  thousand  parts  divide  one  man, 
And  make  imaginary  puissance ; 
Think,  when  we  talk  of  horses,  that  you  see  them 
Printing  their  proud  hoofs  i'  the  receiving  earth  ; 
For  't  is  your  thoughts  that  now  must  deck  our  kings, 
Carry  them  here  and  there ;  jumping  o'er  times, 
Turning  the  accomplishment  of  many  years  30 

Into  an  hour-glass :  for  the  which  supply, 
Admit  me  Chorus  to  this  history ; 
Who  prologue-like  your  humble  patience  pray, 
Gently  to  hear,  kindly  to  judge,  our  play.  \Exit. 


to  KIM!    HKNKY   THK   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

ACT    I. 

SCENE  I.     London.     An  ante-chamber  in  the 
KING'S  palace. 

Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY,  and  the  BISHOP 
OF  ELY. 

Cant.   My  lord,  I  '11  tell  you  ;  that  self  bill  is  urged, 
Which  in  the  eleventh  year  of  the  last  kind's  reign 
Was  like,  and  had  indeed  against  us  pass'd, 
But  that  the  scambling  and  unquiet  time 
Did  push  it  out  of  farther  question. 

Ely.  But  how,  my  lord,  shall  \ve  resist  it  now? 

Cant.   It  must  be  thought  on.     If  it  pass  against  us, 
We  lose  the  better  half  of  our  possession  : 
For  all  the  temporal  lands  which  men  devout 
By  testament  have  given  to  the  church  10 

Would  they  strip  from  us ;  .being  valued  thus : 
As  much  as  would  maintain,  to  the  king's  honour, 
Full  fifteen  earls  and  fifteen  hundred  knights, 
Six  thousand  and  two  hundred  good  esquires ; 
And,  to  relief  of  lazars  and  weak  age, 
Of  indigent  faint  souls  past  corporal  toil, 
A  hundred  almshouses  right  well  supplied  ; 
And  to  the  coffers  of  the  king  beside, 
A  thousand  pounds  by  the  year:  thus  runs  the  bill. 

Ely.  This  would  drink  deep. 

Cant.  'T  would  drink  the  cup  and  all.     20 

Ely.  But  what  prevention? 

Cant.  The  king  is  full  of  grace  and  fair  regard. 

Ely.  And  a  true  lover  of  the  holy  church. 

Cant.  The  courses  of  his  youth  promised  it  not 
The  breath  no  sooner  left  his  father's  body, 
But  that  his  w'.ldness,  mortified  in  him, 
Seem'd  to  die  too ;  yea,  at  that  very  moment 
Consideration,  like  an  angel,  came 
And  whipp'd  the  offending  Adam  out  of  him, 
Leaving  his  body  as  a  paradise,  jo 

To  envelope  and  contain  celestial  spirits. 
Never  was  such  a  sudden  scholar  made ; 
Never  came  reformation  in  a  flood, 
With  such  a  heady  currance,  scouring  faults ; 
Nor  never  Hydra-headed  wilfulness 
So  soon  did  lose  his  seat  and  all  at  once 
As  in  this  king. 


Scene  i.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  41 

Ely.  We  are  blessed  in  the  change. 

Cant.  Hear  him  but  reason  in  divinity, 
And  all-admiring  with  an  inward  wish 

You  would  desire  the  king  were  made  a  prelate :  40 

Hear  him  debate  of  commonwealth  affairs, 
You  would  say  it  hath  been  all  in  all  his  study : 
List  his  discourse  of  war,  and  you  shall  hear 
A  fearful  battle  renderM  you  in  music  ; 
Turn  him  to  any  cause  of  policy, 
The  Gordian  knot  of  it  he  will  unloose, 
Familiar  as  his  garter :  that,  when  he  speaks, 
The  air,  a  charter'd  libertine,  is  still, 
And  the  mute  wonder  lurketh  in  men's  ears, 
To  steal  his  sweet  and  honey'd  sentences ;  50 

So  that  the  art  and  practic  part  of  life 
Must  be  the  mistress  to  this  theoric : 
Which  is  a  wonder  how  his  grace  should  glean  it, 
Since  his  addiction  was  to  courses  vain, 
His  companies  unlettered,  rude  and  shallow, 
His  hours  fill'd  up  with  riots,  banquets,  sports, 
And  never  noted  in  him  any  study, 
Any  retirement,  any  sequestration 
From  open  haunts  and  popularity. 

Ely.  The  strawberry  grows  underneath  the  nettle  60 

And  wholesome  berries  thrive  and  ripen  best 
Neighbour'd  by  fruit  of  baser  quality : 
And  so  the  prince  obscured  his  contemplation 
Under  the  veil  of  wildness ;  which,  no  doubt, 
Grew  like  the  summer  grass,  fastest  by  night, 
Unseen,  yet  crescive  in  his  faculty. 

Cant.   It  must  be  so  ;  for  miracles  are  ceased ; 
And  therefore  we  must  needs  admit  the  means 
How  things  are  perfected. 

Ely.  But,  my  good  lord, 

How  now  for  mitigation  of  this  bill  70 

Urged  by  the  commons?     Doth  his  majesty 
Incline  to  it,  or  no? 

Cant.  He  seems  indifferent, 

Or  rather  swaying  more  upon  our  part 
Than  cherishing  the  exhibiters  against  us ; 
For  I  have  made  an  offer  to  his  majesty, 
Upon  our  spiritual  convocation 
And  in  regard  of  causes  now  in  hand, 
Which  I  have  open'd  to  his  grace  at  large, 
As  touching  France,  to  give  a  greater  sum 


43  KINT,    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

Than  ever  at  one  time  the  clergy  yet  80 

Did  to  his  predecessors  part  withal. 

Ely.     How  did  this  offer  seem  received,  my  lord* 

Cant.  With  good  acceptance  of  his  majesty ; 
Save  that  there  was  not  time  enough  to  hear, 
As  I  perceived  his  grace  would  fain  have  done, 
The  severals  and  unhidden  passages 
Of  his  true  titles  to  some  certain  dukedoms 
And  generally  to  the  crown  and  seat  of  France 
Derived  from  Edward,  his  great-grandfather. 

Ely.  What  was  the  impediment  that  broke  this  off?        QO 

Cant.  The  French  ambassador  upon  that  instant 
Craved  audience ;  and  the  hour,  I  think,  is  come 
To  give  him  hearing:  is  it  four  o'clock? 

Ely.   It  is. 

Cant.  Then  go  we  in,  to  know  his  embassy ; 
Which  I  could  with  a  ready  guess  declare, 
Before  the  Frenchman  speak  a  word  of  it. 

Ely.  I  '11  wait  upon  you,  and  1  long  to  hear  it.       [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.      The  same.     The  Presence  chamber. 

Enter  KING   HENRY,  GLOUCESTER,  BEDFORD,  EXETER, 
WARWICK,  WESTMORELAND,  and  Attendants. 

A'.  Hen.  Where  is  my  gracious  lord  of  Canterbury? 

Exe.  Not  here  in  presence. 

K.  Hen.  Send  for  him,  good  uncle. 

West.  Shall  we  call  in  the  ambassador,  my  liege? 

A'.  Hen.   Not  yet,  my  cousin:  we  would  be  resolved, 
Before  we  hear  him,  of  some  things  of  weight 
That  task  our  thoughts,  concerning  us  and  France. 

Enter  the  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY,  and  the 
BISHOP  OF  ELY. 

Cant.  God  and  his  angels  guard  your  sacred  throne 
And  make  you  long  become  it ! 

K.  Hen.  Sure,  we  thank  you. 

My  learned  lord,  we  pray  you  to  proceed 
And  justly  and  religiously  unfold  IO 

Why  the  law  Salique  that  they  have  in  France 
Or  should,  or  should  not,  bar  us  in  our  claim : 
And  God  forbid,  my  dear  and  faithful  lord, 
That  you  should  fashion,  wrest,  or  bow  your  reading, 
Or  nicely  charge  your  understanding  soul 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  43 

With  opening  titles  miscreate,  whose  right 

Suits  not  in  native  colours  with  the  truth ; 

For  God  doth  know  how  many  now  in  health 

Shall  drop  their  blood  in  approbation 

Of  what  your  reverence  shall  incite  us  to.  20 

Therefore  take  heed  how  you  impawn  our  person, 

How  you  awake  our  sleeping  sword  of  war : 

We  charge  you,  in  the  name  of  God,  take  heed ; 

For  never  two  such  kingdoms  did  contend 

Without  much  fall  of  blood ;  whose  guiltless  drops 

Are  every  one  a  woe,  a  sore  complaint 

'Gainst  him  whose  wrongs  gives  edge  unto  the  swords 

That  makes  such  waste  in  brief  mortality. 

Under  this  conjuration  speak,  my  lord; 

For  we  will  hear,  note  and  believe  in  heart  30 

That  what  you  speak  is  in  your  conscience  wash'd 

As  pure  as  sin  with  baptism. 

Cant.  Then  hear  me,  gracious  sovereign,  and  you  peers, 
That  owe  yourselves,  your  lives  and  services 
To  this  imperial  throne.     There  is  no  bar 
To  make  against  your  highness'  claim  to  France 
But  this,  which  they  produce  from  Pharamond, 
'  In  terram  Salicam  mulieres  ne  succedant': 
'  No  woman  shall  succeed  in  Salique  land' : 
Which  Salique  land  the  French  unjustly  glose  40 

To  be  the  realm  of  France,  and  Pharamond 
The  founder  of  this  law  and  female  bar. 
Yet  their  own  authors  faithfully  affirm 
That  the  land  Salique  is  in  Germany, 
Between  the  floods  of  Sala  and  of  Elbe ; 
Where  Charles  the  Great,  having  subdued  the  Saxons, 
There  left  behind  and  settled  certain  French ; 
Who,  holding  in  disdain  the  German  women 
For  some  dishonest  manners  of  their  life, 
Establish'd  then  this  law ;  to  wit,  no  female  50 

Should  be  inheritrix  in  Salique  land : 
Which  Salique,  as  I  said,  'twixt  Elbe  and  Sala, 
Is  at  this  day  in  Germany  call'd  Meisen. 
Then  doth  it  well  appear  the  Salique  law 
Was  not  devised  for  the  realm  of  France : 
Nor  did  the  French  possess  the  Salique  land 
Until  four  hundred  one  and  twenty  years 
After  defunction  of  King  Pharamond, 
Idly  supposed  the  founder  of  this  law ; 
Who  died  within  the  year  of  our  redemption  60 


44  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

Four  hundred  twenty-six;  and  Charles  the  (ireat 

Subdued  the  Saxons,  and  did  seat  the  French 

Beyond  the  river  S.ila,  in  the  year 

Eight  hundred  five.     Besides,  their  writers  say, 

King  Pepin,  which  deposed  Childeric, 

Did,  as  heir  general,  being  descended 

Of  I1)!  it  hi  Id,  which  was  daughter  to  King  Clothair, 

Make  claim  and  title  to  the  crown  of  France. 

Hugh  Capet  also,  who  usurp'd  the  crown 

Of  Charles  the  duke  of  Lorraine,  sole  heir  male  70 

Of  the  true  line  and  stock  of  Charles  the  Great, 

To  find  his  title  with  some  shows  of  truth, 

Though,  in  pure  truth,  it  was  corrupt  and  naught, 

Conveyed  himself  as  heir  to  the  Lady  Lingare, 

Daughter  to  Charlemain,  who  was  the  son 

To  Lewis  the  emperor,  and  Lewis  the  son 

Of  Charles  the  Great.     Also  King  Lewis  the  Tenth, 

Who  was  sole  heir  to  the  usurper  Capet, 

Could  not  keep  quiet  in  his  conscience, 

Wearing  the  crown  of  France,  till  satisfied  80 

That  fair  Queen  Isabel,  his  grandmother, 

Was  lineal  of  the  Lady  Ermengare, 

Daughter  to  Charles  the  foresaid  duke  of  Lorraine: 

By  the  which  marriage  the  line  of  Charles  the  Great 

Was  re-united  to  the  crown  of  France. 

So  that,  as  clear  as  is  the  summer's  sun, 

King  Pepin's  title  and  Hugh  Capet's  claim, 

King  Lewis  his  satisfaction,  all  appear 

To  hold  in  right  and  title  of  the  female : 

So  do  the  kings  of  France  unto  this  day;  90 

Howbeit  they  would  hold  up  this  Salique  law 

To  bar  your  highness  claiming  from  the  female, 

And  rather  choose  to  hide  them  in  a  net 

Than  amply  to  imbar  their  crooked  titles 

Usurp'd  from  you  and  your  progenitors. 

K.  Hen.   May  I  with  right  and  conscience  make  this  claim? 

Cant.  The  sin  upon  my  head,  dread  sovereign ! 
For  in  the  book  of  Numbers  is  it  writ, 
When  the  man  dies,  let  the  inheritance 

Descend  unto  the  daughter.     Gracious  lord,  loo 

Stand  for  your  own  ;  unwind  your  bloody  flag ; 
Look  back  into  your  mighty  ancestors : 
Go,  my  dread  lord,  to  your  great-grandsire's  tomb, 
From  whom  you  claim ;  invoke  his  warlike  spirit, 
And  your  great-uncle's,  Edward  the  Black  Prince, 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  45 

Who  on  the  French  ground  play'd  a  tragedy, 

Making  defeat  on  the  full  power  of  France, 

Whiles  his  most  mighty  father  on  a  hill 

Stood  smiling  to  behold  his  lion's  whelp 

Forage  in  blood  of  French  nobility.  1 10 

O  noble  English,  that  could  entertain 

With  half  their  forces  the  full  pride  of  France 

And  let  another  half  stand  laughing  by, 

All  out  of  work  and  cold  for  action  ! 

Ely.  Awake  remembrance  of  these  valiant  dead 
And  with  your  puissant  arm  renew  their  feats : 
You  are  their  heir ;  you  sit  upon  their  throne ; 
The  blood  and  courage  that  renowned  them 
Runs  in  your  veins ;  and  my  thrice-puissant  liege 
Is  in  the  very  May-morn  of  his  youth,  120 

Ripe  for  exploits  and  mighty  enterprises. 

Exe.  Your  brother  kings  and  monarchs  of  the  earth 
Do  all  expect  that  you  should  rouse  yourself, 
As  did  the  former  lions  of  your  blood. 

West.  They  know  your  grace  hath  cause  and  means  and 

might ; 

So  hath  your  highness ;  never  king  of  England 
Had  nobles  richer  and  more  loyal  subjects, 
Whose  hearts  have  left  their  bodies  here  in  England 
And  lie  pavilion'd  in  the  fields  of  France. 

Cant.  O,  let  their  bodies  follow,  my  dear  liege,  130 

With  blood  and  sword  and  fire  to  win  your  right ; 
In  aid  whereof  we  of  the  spiritualty 
Will  raise  your  highness  such  a  mighty  sum 
As  never  did  the  clergy  at  one  time 
Bring  in  to  any  of  your  ancestors. 

K.  Hen.  We  must  not  only  arm  to  invade  the  French, 
But  lay  down  our  proportions  to  defend 
Against  the  Scot,  who  will  make  road  upon  us 
With  all  advantages. 

Cant.  They  of  those  marches,  gracious  sovereign,  140 

Shall  be  a  wall  sufficient  to  defend 
Our  inland  from  the  pilfering  borderers. 

K.  Hen.  We  do  not  mean  the  coursing  snatchers  only. 
Jut  fear  the  main  intendment  of  the  Scot, 
7ho  hath  been  still  a  giddy  neighbour  to  us ; 
ror  you  shall  read  that  my  great-grandfather 
lever  went  with  his  forces  into  France 
Jut  that  the  Scot  on  his  unfurnish'd  kingdom 
ic  pouring,  like  the  tide  into  a  breach, 


46  KING    HENRY   THE    KIKTH.  [Act  I. 

With  ample  and  brim  fulness  of  his  force,  150 

( lulling  the  gleaned  land  with  hot  assays, 

(iirding  with  grievous  siege  castles  and  towns; 

'[  hat  England,  being  empty  of  defence, 

Hath  shook  and  trembled  at  the  ill  neighbourhood. 

Cant.  She  hath  been  then  more  fear'd  than  hann'd,  my 

liege ; 

For  hear  her  but  exampled  by  herself: 
When  all  her  chivalry  hath  been  in  France 
And  she  a  mourning  widow  of  her  nobles, 
She  hath  herself  not  only  well  defended 

But  taken  and  impounded  as  a  stray  160 

The  King  of  Scots  ;  whom  she  did  send  to  France, 
To  fill  King  Edward's  fame  with  prisoner  kings 
And  make  her  chronicle  as  rich  with  praise 
As  is  the  ooze  and  bottom  of  the  sea 
With  sunken  wreck  and  sumless  treasuries. 

West.  But  there 's  a  saying  very  old  and  true, 

'  If  that  you  will  France  win, 
Then  with  Scotland  first  begin5: 

For  once  the  eagle  England  being  in  prey, 

To  her  unguarded  nest  the  weasel  Scot  170 

Comes  sneaking  and  so  sucks  her  princely  eggs, 

Playing  the  mouse  in  absence  of  the  cat. 

To  tear  and  havoc  more  than  she  can  eat. 

Eve.  It  follows  then  the  cat  must  stay  at  home: 
Yet  that  is  but  a  crush'd  necessity, 
Since  we  have  locks  to  safeguard  necessaries, 
And  pretty  traps  to  catch  the  petty  thieves. 
While  that  the  armed  hand  doth  fight  abroad, 
The  advised  head  defends  itself  at  home  ; 
For  government,  though  high  and  low  and  lower,  l8c 

Put  into  parts,  doth  keep  in  one  consent, 
Congreeing  in  a  full  and  natural  close, 
Like  music. 

Cant.        Therefore  doth  heaven  divide 
The  state  of  man  in  divers  functions, 
Setting  endeavour  in  continual  motion ; 
To  which  is  fixed,  as  an  aim  or  butt, 
Obedience :  for  so  work  the  honey-bees, 
Creatures  that  by  a  rule  in  nature  teach 
The  act  of  order  to  a  peopled  kingdom. 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  47 

They  have  a  king  and  officers  of  sorts ;  190 

Where  some,  like  magistrates,  correct  at  home, 
Others,  like  merchants,  venture  trade  abroad, 
Others,  like  soldiers,  armed  in  their  stings, 
Make  boot  upon  the  summer's  velvet  buds, 
Which  pillage  they  with  merry  march  bring  home 
To  the  tent-royal  of  their  emperor ; 
Who,  busied  in  his  majesty,  surveys 
The  singing  masons  building  roofs  of  gold, 
The  civil  citizens  kneading  up  the  honey, 
The  poor  mechanic  porters  crowding  in  200 

Their  heavy  burdens  at  his  narrow  gate, 
The  sad-eyed  justice,  with  his  surly  hum, 
Delivering  o'er  to  executors  pale 
The  lazy  yawning  drone.     I  this  infer, 
That  many  things,  having  full  reference 
To  one  consent,  may  work  contrariously . 
As  many  arrows,  loosed  several  ways, 
Come  to  one  mark ;  as  many  ways  meet  in  one  town ; 
As  many  fresh  streams  meet  in  one  salt  sea ; 
As  many  lines  close  in  the  dial's  centre ;  210 

So  may  a  thousand  actions,  once  afoot, 
End  in  one  purpose,  and  be  all  well  borne 
Without  defeat.     Therefore  to  France,  my  liege. 
Divide  your  happy  England  into  four ; 
Whereof  take  you  one  quarter  into  France, 
And  you  withal  shall  make  all  Gallia  shake. 
If  we,  with  thrice  such  powers  left  at  home, 
Cannot  defend  our  own  doors  from  the  dog, 
Let  us  be  worried  and  our  nation  lose 

The  name  of  hardiness  and  policy.  220 

K.  Hen.  Call  in  the  messengers  sent  from  the  Dauphin. 

[Exeunt  some  Attendants. 
Now  are  we  well  resolved ;  and  by  God's  help, 
And  yours,  the  noble  sinews  of  our  power, 
France  being  ours,  we  '11  bend  it  to  our  awe, 
Or  break  it  all  to  pieces :  or  there  we  '11  sit, 
Ruling  in  large  and  ample  empery 
O'er  France  and  all  her  almost  kingly  dukedoms, 
Or  lay  these  bones  in  an  unworthy  urn, 
Tombless,  with  no  remembrance  over  them  : 
Either  our  history  shall  with  full  mouth  230 

Speak  freely  of  our  acts,  or  else  our  grave, 
Like  Turkish  mute,  shall  have  a  tongueless  mouth 
Not  worshipp'd  with  a  waxen  epitaph. 


48  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

Enter  Ambassadors  oj  Prance. 

Now  are  we  well  prepared  to  know  the  pleasure 
Of  our  fair  cousin  Dauphin  ;  for  we  hear 
Your  greeting  is  from  him,  not  from  the  king. 

First  Amb.  May  't  please  your  majesty  to  give  us  leave 
Freely  to  render  what  we  have  in  charge ; 
Or  shall  we  sparingly  show  you  far  off 
The  Dauphin's  meaning  and  our  embassy?  240 

K.  Hen.  We  are  no  tyrant,  but  a  Christian  king : 
Unto  whose  grace  our  passion  is  as  subject 
As  is  our  wretches  fetter'd  in  our  prisons: 
Therefore  with  frank  and  uncurb'd  plainness 
Tell  us  the  Dauphin's  mind. 

First  Amb.  Thus,  then,  in  few. 

Your  highness,  lately  sending  into  France, 
Did  claim  some  certain  dukedoms,  in  the  right 
Of  your  great  predecessor,  King  Edward  the  Third. 
In  answer  of  which  claim,  the  prince  our  master 
Says  that  you  savour  too  much  of  your  youth,  250 

And  bids  you  be  advised  there's  nought  in  France 
That  can  be  with  a  nimble  galliard  won ; 
You  cannot  revel  into  dukedoms  there. 
He  therefore  sends  you,  meeter  for  your  spirit, 
This  tun  of  treasure;  and,  in  lieu  of  this,  » 

Desires  you  let  the  dukedoms  that  you  claim 
Hear  no  more  of  you.     This  the  Dauphin  speaks. 

K.  Hen.  What  treasure,  uncle? 

Exe.  Tennis-balls,  my  liege. 

K.  Hen.  We  are  glad  the  Dauphin  is  so  pleasant  with  us ; 
His  present  and  your  pains  we  thank  you  for:  260 

When  we  have  match'd  our  rackets  to  these  balls, 
We  will,  in  France,  by  God's  grace,  play  a  set 
Shall  strike  his  father's  crown  into  the  hazard. 
Tell  him  he  hath  made  a  match  with  such  a  wrangler 
That  all  the  courts  of  France  will  be  disturb'd 
With  chaces.     And  we  understand  him  well, 
How  he  comes  o'er  us  with  our  wilder  days, 
Not  measuring  what  use  we  made  of  them. 
We  never  valued  this  poor  seat  of  England ; 
And  therefore,  living  hence,  did  give  ourself  270 

To  barbarous  license  ;  as  't  is  ever  common 
That  men  are  merriest  when  they  are  from  home. 
But  tell  the  Dauphin  I  will  keep  my  state, 
Be  like  a  king  and  show  my  sail  of  greatness 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  49 

When  I  do  rouse  me  in  my  throne  of  France : 

For  that  I  have  laid  by  my  majesty 

And  plodded  like  a  man  for  working-days, 

But  I  will  rise  there  with  so  full  a  glory 

That  I  will  dazzle  all  the  eyes  of  France, 

Yea,  strike  the  Dauphin  blind  to  look  on  us.  280 

And  tell  the  pleasant  prince  this  mock  of  his 

Hath  turn'd  his  balls  to  gun-stones;  and  his  soul 

Shall  stand  sore  charged  for  the  wasteful  vengeance 

That  shall  fly  with  them :  for  many  a  thousand  widows 

Shall  this  his  mock  mock  out  of  their  dear  husbands ; 

Mock  mothers  from  their  sons,  mock  castles  down ; 

And  some  are  yet  ungotten  and  unborn 

That  shall  have  cause  to  curse  the  Dauphin's  scorn. 

But  this  lies  all  within  the  will  of  God, 

To  whom  I  do  appeal ;  and  in  whose  name  290 

Tell  you  the  Dauphin  I  am  coming  on, 

To  venge  me  as  I  may  and  to  put  forth 

My  rightful  hand  in  a  well-hallo w'd  cause. 

So  get  you  hence  in  peace ;  and  tell  the  Dauphin 

His  jest  will  savour  but  of  shallow  wit, 

When  thousands  weep  more  than  did  laugh  at  it. 

Convey  them  with  safe  conduct.     Fare  you  well. 

[Exeunt  Ambassadors. 

Exe.  This  was  a  merry  message. 

K.  Hen.  We  hope  to  make  the  sender  blush  at  it. 
Therefore,  my  lords,  omit  no  happy  hour  300 

That  may  give  furtherance  to  our  expedition  ; 
For  we  have  now  no  thought  in  us  but  France, 
Save  those  to  God,  that  run  before  our  business. 
Therefore  let  our  proportions  for  these  wars 
Be  soon  collected  and  all  things  thought  upon 
That  may  with  reasonable  swiftness  add 
More  feathers  to  our  wings ;  for,  God  before, 
We  '11  chide  this  Dauphin  at  his  father's  door. 
Therefore  let  every  man  now  task  his  thought, 
That  this  fair  action  may  on  foot  be  brought.  310 

\Exeunt.    Flourish. 


CH178) 


50  KING    HENRY   THE  FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

ACT    II. 

PROLOGUE. 

Flourish.     Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Now  all  the  youth  of  England  are  on  fire, 
And  silken  dalliance  in  the  wardrobe  lies : 
Now  thrive  the  armorers,  and  honour's  thought 
Reigns  solely  in  the  breast  of  every  man : 
They  sell  the  pasture  now  to  buy  the  horse, 
Following  the  mirror  of  all  Christian  kings, 
With  winged  heels,  as  English  Mercuries. 
For  now  sits  Expectation  in  the  air, 
And  hides  a  sword  from  hilts  unto  the  point 
With  crowns  imperial,  crowns  and  coronets,  lo 

Promised  to  Harry  and  his  followers. 
The  French,  advised  by  good  intelligence 
Of  this  most  dreadful  preparation, 
Shake  in  their  fear  and  with  pale  policy 
Seek  to  divert  the  English  purposes. 
O  England !  model  to  thy  inward  greatness, 
Like  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart, 
What  mightst  thou  do,  that  honour  would  thee  do, 
Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural ! 
But  see  thy  fault !    France  hath  in  thee  found  out  20 

A  nest  of  hollow  bosoms,  which  he  fills 
With  treacherous  crowns ;  and  three  corrupted  men, 
One,  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge,  and  the  second, 
Henry  Lord  Scroop  of  Masham,  and  the  third. 
Sir  Thomas  Grey,  knight,  of  Northumberland, 
Have,  for  the  gilt  of  France, — O  guilt  indeed! — 
Confirmed  conspiracy  with  fearful  France ; 
And  by  their  hands  this  grace  of  kings  must  die, 
If  hell  and  treason  hold  their  promises, 

Ere  he  take  ship  for  France,  and  in  Southampton.  30 

Linger  your  patience  on  ;  and  we'll  digest 
The  abuse  of  distance  ;  force  a  play  : 
The  sum  is  paid ;  the  traitors  are  agreed ; 
The  king  is  set  from  London ;  and  the  scene 
Is  now  transported,  gentles,  to  Southampton  ; 
There  is  the  playhouse  now,  there  must  you  sit : 
And  thence  to  France  shall  we  convey  you  safe, 
And  bring  you  back,  charming  the  narrow  seas 
To  give  you  gentle  pass  ;  for,  if  we  may, 


Scene  i.]  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  51 

We  '11  not  offend  one  stomach  with  our  play.  40 

But,  till  the  king  come  forth,  and  not  till  then, 

Unto  Southampton  do  we  shift  our  scene.  [Exit. 

SCENE  I.     London.    A  street. 
Enter  Corporal  NYM  and  Lieutenant  BARDOLPH. 

Bard.  Well  met,  Corporal  Nym. 

Nym.  Good  morrow,  Lieutenant  Bardolph. 

Bard.  What,  are  Ancient  Pistol  and  you  friends  yet? 

Nym.  For  my  part,  I  care  not :  I  say  little ;  but  when  time 
shall  serve,  there  shall  be  smiles ;  but  that  shall  be  as  it  may. 
I  dare  not  fight ;  but  I  will  wink  and  hold  out  mine  iron :  it 
is  a  simple  one;  but  what  though?  it  will  toast  cheese,  and 
it  will  endure  cold  as  another  man's  sword  will :  and  there 's 
an  end.  9 

Bard.  I  will  bestow  a  breakfast  to  make  you  friends ;  and 
we  '11  be  all  three  sworn  brothers  to  France :  let  it  be  so,  good 
Corporal  Nym. 

Nym.  Faith,  I  will  live  so  long  as  I  may,  that 's  the  certain 
of  it ;  and  when  I  cannot  live  any  longer,  I  will  do  as  I  may: 
that  is  my  rest,  that  is  the  rendezvous  of  it. 

Bard.  It  is  certain,  corporal,  that  he  is  married  to  Nell 
Quickly:  and  certainly  she  did  you  wrong;  for  you  were 
troth-plight  to  her.  18 

Nym.  I  cannot  tell:  things  must  be  as  they  may:  men 
may  sleep,  and  they  may  have  their  throats  about  them  at 
that  time;  and  some  say  knives  have  edges.  It  must  be  as 
it  may :  though  patience  be  a  tired  mare,  yet  she  will  plod. 
There  must  be  conclusions.  Well,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter  PISTOL  and  Hostess. 

Bard.  Here  comes  Ancient  Pistol  and  his  wife :  good  cor- 
poral, be  patient  here.  How  now,  mine  host  Pistol! 

Pist.  Base  tike,  call'st  thou  me  host? 
Now,  by  this  hand,  I  swear,  I  scorn  the  term ; 
Nor  shall  my  Nell  keep  lodgers.  28 

Host.  No,  by  my  troth,  not  long.  [Nym  and  Pistol  draw.~\ 
O  well  a  day,  Lady,  if  he  be  not  drawn  now!  we  shall  see 
wilful  murder  committed. 

Bard.  Good  lieutenant !  good  corporal !  offer  nothing  here. 

Nym.  Pish ! 

Pist.  Pish  for  thee,  Iceland  dog!  thou  prick-ear'd  cur  of 
Iceland ! 


52  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  tAct  II. 

Host.  Good  Corporal  Nym,  show  thy  valour,  and  put  up 
your  sword. 

Nym.  Will  you  shog  off.-'     I  would  have  you  solus. 

/'is/.  'Solus,'  egregious  dog?     O  viper  vile! 
The  'solus'  in  thy  most  mervailous  face;  40 

The  'solas'  in  thy  teeth,  and  in  thy  throat, 
And  in  thy  hateful  lungs,  yea,  in  thy  maw,  perdy, 
And,  which  is  worse,  within  thy  nasty  mouth ! 
I  do  retort  the  '  solus '  in  thy  bowels ; 
For  I  can  take,  and  Pistol's  cock  is  up, 
And  flashing  fire  will  follow. 

Nym.  I  am  not  Barbason  ;  you  cannot  conjure  me.  I  have 
an  humour  to  knock  you  indifferently  well.  If  you  grow  foul 
with  me,  Pistol,  I  will  scour  you  with  my  rapier,  as  I  may,  in 
fair  terms :  if  you  would  walk  off,  I  would  prick  your  guts  a 
little,  in  good  terms,  as  I  may :  and  that 's  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  O  braggart  vile  and  damned  furious  wight !  52 

The  grave  doth  gape,  and  doting  death  is  near; 
Therefore  exhale. 

Bard.  Hear  me,  hear  me  what  I  say :  he  that  strikes  the 
first  stroke,  I  '11  run  him  up  to  the  hilts,  as  I  am  a  soldier. 

[Draws. 

Pist.  An  oath  of  mickle  might ;  and  fury  shall  abate. 
Give  me  thy  fist,  thy  fore-foot  to  me  give: 
Thy  spirits  are  most  tall. 

Nym.  1  will  cut  thy  throat,  one  time  or  other,  in  fair  terms: 
that  is  the  humour  of  it.  61 

Pist.  '  Couple  a  gorge  !' 
That  is  the  word.     I  thee  defy  again. 

0  hound  of  Crete,  think'st  thou  my  spouse  to  get? 
No ;  to  the  spital  go, 

And  from  the  powdering-tub  of  infamy 
Fetch  forth  the  lazar  kite  of  Cressid's  kind, 
Doll  Tearsheet  she  by  name,  and  her  espouse: 

1  have,  and  I  will  hold,  the  quondam  Quickly 

For  the  only  she;  and — pauca,  there's  enough.  70 

Go  to. 

Enter  the  Boy. 

Boy.  Mine  host  Pistol,  you  must  come  to  my  master,  and 
you,  hostess :  he  is  very  sick,  and  would  to  bed.  Good  Bar- 
dolph,  put  thy  face  between  his  sheets,  and  do  the  office  of  a 
warming-pan.  Faith,  he's  very  ill. 

Hard.  Away,  you  rogue ! 

Host.   By  my  troth,  he  '11  yield  the  crow  a  pudding  one  of 


Scene  i.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  53 

these  days.     The  king  has  killed  his  heart.     Good  husband, 
come  home  presently.  [Exeunt  Hostess  and  Boy. 

Bard.  Come,  shall  I  make  you  two  friends?  We  must  to 
France  together :  why  the  devil  should  we  keep  knives  to  cut 
one  another's  throats?  82 

Pist.  Let  floods  o'erswell,  and  fiends  for  food  howl  on ! 

Nym.  You  '11  pay  me  the  eight  shillings  I  won  of  you  at 
betting? 

Pist.  Base  is  the  slave  that  pays. 

Nym.  That  now  I  will  have :  that 's  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  As  manhood  shall  compound :  push  home. 

[They  draw. 

Bard.  By  this  sword,  he  that  makes  the  first  thrust,  I  '11 
kill  him ;  by  this  sword,  I  will.  90 

Pist.  Sword  is  an  oath,  and  oaths  must  have  their  course. 

Bard.  Corporal  Nym,  an  thou  wilt  be  friends,  be  friends : 
an  thou  wilt  not,  why,  then,  be  enemies  with  me  too.  Prithee, 
put  up. 

Nym.  I  shall  have  my  eight  shillings  I  won  of  you  at 
betting? 

Pist.  A  noble  shalt  thou  have,  and  present  pay ; 
And  liquor  likewise  will  I  give  to  thee, 
And  friendship  shall  combine,  and  brotherhood: 
I  '11  live  by  Nym,  and  Nym  shall  live  by  me ;  100 

Is  not  this  just?  for  I  shall  sutler  be 
Unto  the  camp,  and  profits  will  accrue. 
Give  me  thy  hand. 

Nym.  I  shall  have  my  noble? 

Pist.  In  cash  most  justly  paid. 

Nym.  Well,  then,  that 's  the  humour  of 't 

Re-enter  Hostess. 

Host.  As  ever  you  came  of  women,  come  in  quickly  to  Sir 
John.  Ah,  poor  heart !  he  is  so  shaked  of  a  burning  quotidian 
tertian,  that  it  is  most  lamentable  to  behold.  Sweet  men, 
come  to  him.  1 10 

Nym.  The  king  hath  run  bad  humours  on  the  knight; 
that 's  the  even  of  it. 

Pist.  Nym,  thou  hast  spoke  the  right ; 
His  heart  is  fracted  and  corroborate. 

Nym.  The  king  is  a  good  king :  but  it  must  be  as  it  may ; 
he  passes  some  humours  and  careers. 

Pist.  Let  us  condole  the  knight ;    for,  lambkins,  we  will 
live.  [Exeunt 


54  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

SCENE  II.     Southampton.     A  council-chamber. 

Enter  EXETER,  HEDFORD,  and  WESTMORELAND. 

Bed.  'Fore  God,  his  grace  is  bold,  to  trust  these  traitors. 

Exe.  They  shall  be  apprehended  by  and  by. 

West.  How  smooth  and  even  they  do  bear  themselves! 
As  if  allegiance  in  their  bosoms  sat, 
Crowned  with  faith  and  constant  loyalty. 

Bed.  The  king  hath  note  of  all  that  they  intend, 
By  interception  which  they  dream  not  of. 

Exe.  Nay,  but  the  man  that  was  his  bedfellow, 
Whom  he  hath  dull'd  and  cloy'd  with  gracious  favours, 
That  he  should,  for  a  foreign  purse,  so  sell  10 

His  sovereign's  life  to  death  and  treachery. 

Trumpets  sound.     Enter  KING  HENRY,  SCROOP,  CAM- 
BRIDGE, GREY,  and  Attendants. 

K.  Hen.  Now  sits  the  wind  fair,  and  we  will  aboard. 
My  Lord  of  Cambridge,  and  my  kind  Lord  of  Masham, 
And  you,  my  gentle  knight,  give  me  your  thoughts : 
Think  you  not  that  the  powers  we  bear  with  us 
Will  cut  their  passage  through  the  force  of  France, 
Doing  the  execution  and  the  act 
For  which  we  have  in  head  assembled  them? 

Scroop.  No  doubt,  my  liege,  if  each  man/io  his  best. 

K.  Hen.  I  doubt  not  that ;  since  we  are  well  persuaded  20 
We  carry  not  a  heart  with  us  from  hence 
That  grows  not  in  a  fair  consent  with  ours, 
Nor  leave  not  one  behind  that  doth  not  wish 
Success  and  conquest  to  attend  on  us. 

Cam.  Never  was  monarch  better  feaHd  and  loved 
Than  is  your  majesty :  there 's  not,  I  think,  a  subject 
That  sits  in  heart-grief  and  uneasiness 
Under  the  sweet  shade  of  your  government. 

Grey.  True :  those  that  were  your  father's  enemies 
Have  steep'd  their  galls  in  honey  and  do  serve  you  30 

With  hearts  create  of  duty  and  of  zeal. 

A'.  Hen.  We  therefore  have  great  cause  of  thankfulness; 
And  shall  forget  the  office  of  our  hand, 
Sooner  than  quittance  of  desert  and  merit     , 
According  to  the  weight  and  worthiness. 

Scroop.  So  service  shall  with  steeled  sinews  toil, 
And  labour  shall  refresh  itself  with  hope, 
To  do  your  grace  incessant  services. 


Scene  2  ]  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  5S 

K.  Hen.  We  judge  no  less.     Uncle  of  Exeter, 
Enlarge  the  man  committed  yesterday,  40 

That  rail'd  against  our  person :  we  consider 
It  was  excess  of  wine  that  set  him  on  ; 
And  on  his  more  advice  we  pardon  him. 

Scroop.  That 's  mercy,  but  too  much  security : 
Let  him  be  pumsh'd,  sovereign,  lest  example 
Breed,  by  his  sufferance,  more  of  such  a  kind. 

K.  Hen.  O,  let  us  yet  be  merciful. 

Cam.  So  may  your  highness,  and  yet  punish  too. 

Grey.  Sir, 

You  show  great  mercy,  if  you  give  him  life,  50 

After  the  taste  of  much  correction. 

K.  Hen.  Alas,  your  too  much  love  and  care  of  me 
Are  heavy  orisons  'gainst  this  poor  wretch ! 
If  little  faults,  proceeding  on  distemper, 
Shall  not  be  wink'd  at,  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye 
When  capital  crimes,  chew'd,  swallow'd  and  digested, 
Appear  before  us  ?     We  '11  yet  enlarge  that  man, 
Though  Cambridge,  Scroop  and  Grey,  in  their  dear  care 
And  tender  preservation  of  our  person, 
Would  have  him  punish'd.     And  now  to  our  French  causes : 
Who  are  the  late  commissioners?  61 

Cam.   I  one,  my  lord : 
Your  highness  bade  me  ask  for  it  to-day. 

Scroop.  So  did  you  me,  my  liege. 

Grey.  And  I,  my  royal  sovereign. 

K.  Hen.  Then,    Richard    Earl    of   Cambridge,   there    is 

yours ; 

There  yours,  Lord  Scroop  of  Masham ;  and,  sir  knight, 
Grey  of  Northumberland,  this  same  is  yours : 
Read  them ;  and  know,  I  know  your  worthiness. 
My  Lord  of  Westmoreland,  and  uncle  Exeter,  70 

We  will  aboard  to-night.     Why,  how  now,  gentlemen ! 
What  see  you  in  those  papers  that  you  lose 
So  much  complexion  ?     Look  ye,  how  they  change ! 
Their  cheeks  are  paper.     Why,  what  read  you  there, 
That  hath  so  cowarded  and  chased  your  blood 
Out  of  appearance? 

Cam.  \  do  confess  my  fault ; 

Arid  do  submit  me  to  your  highness'  mercy. 

Sc^oo'h    I   ^°  wmch  we  a^  aPPeal- 
K.  Hen.  The  mercy  that  was  quick  in  us  but  late, 
By  your  own  counsel  is  suppress'd  and  kill'd :  8c 


56  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

You  must  not  dare,  for  shame,  to  talk  of  mercy ; 

For  your  own  reasons  turn  into  your  bosoms, 

As  dogs  upon  their  masters,  worrying  you. 

See  you,  my  princes  and  my  noble  peers. 

These  English  monsters!     My  Lord  of  Cambridge  here, 

You  know  how  apt  our  love  was  to  accord 

To  furnish  him  with  all  appertinents 

Belonging  to  his  honour;  and  this  man 

Hath,  for  a  few  light  crowns,  lightly  conspired, 

And  sworn  unto  the  practices  of  France,  QC 

To  kill  us  here  in  Hampton:  to  the  which 

This  knight,  no  less  for  bounty  bound  to  us 

Than  Cambridge  is,  hath  likewise  sworn.     Hut,  O, 

What  shall  I  say  to  thee,  Lord  Scroop?  thou  cruel, 

Ingrateful,  savage  and  inhuman  creature! 

Thou  that  didst  bear  the  key  of  all  my  counsels, 

That  knew'st  the  very  bottom  of  my  soul, 

That  almost  mightst  have  coin'd  me  into  gold, 

Wouldst  thou  have  practised  on  me  for  thy  use ! 

May  it  be  possible,  that  foreign  hire  100 

Could  out  of  thee  extract  one  spark  of  evil 

That  might  annoy  my  finger?  'tis  so  strange, 

That,  though  the  truth  of  it  stands  off  as  gross 

As  black  and  white,  my  eye  will  scarcely  see  it. 

Treason  and  murder  ever  kept  together, 

As  two  yoke-devils  sworn  to  cither's  purpose, 

Working  so  gfossly  in  a  natural  cause, 

That  admiration  did  not  hoop  at  them: 

But  thou,  'gainst  all  proportion,  didst  bring  in 

Wonder  to  wait  on  treason  and  on  murder:  I  ic 

And  whatsoever  cunning  fiend  it  was 

That  wrought  upon  thee  so  preposterously 

Hath  got  the  voice  in  hell  for  excellence : 

All  other  devil?  that  suggest  by  treasons 

Do  botch  and  bungle  up  damnation 

With  patches,  colours,  and  with  forms  being  fetch'd 

From  glistering  semblances  of  piety; 

But  he  that  temper'd  thee  bade  thee  stand  up, 

Gave  thee  no  instance  why  thou  shouldst  do  treason, 

Unless  to  dub  thee  with  the  name  of  traitor.  I2c 

If  that  same  demon  that  hath  gull'd  thee  thus 

Should  with  his  lion  gait  walk  the  whole  world. 

He  might  return  to  vasty  Tartar  back, 

And  tell  the  legions  '  I  can  never  win 

A  soul  so  easy  as  that  Englishman's'. 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  57 

O,  how  hast  thou  with  jealousy  infected 

The  sweetness  of  affiance !     Show  men  dutiful? 

Why,  so  didst  thou:  seem  they  grave  and  learned? 

Why,  so  didst  thou:  come  they  of  noble  family? 

Why,  so  didst  thou:  seem  they  religious?  130 

Why,  so  didst  thou :  or  are  they  spare  in  diet, 

Free  from  gross  passion  or  of  mirth  or  anger, 

Constant  in  spirit,  not  swerving  with  the  blood, 

Garnish'd  and  deck'd  in  modest  complement, 

Not  working  with  the  eye  without  the  ear, 

And  but  in  purged  judgement  trusting  neither? 

Such  and  so  finely  boulted  didst  thou  seem : 

And  thus  thy  fall  hath  left  a  kind  of  blot, 

To  mark  the  full-fraught  man  and  best  indued 

With  some  suspicion.     I  will  weep  for  thee;  140 

For  this  revolt  of  thine,  methinks,  is  like 

Another  fall  of  man.     Their  faults  are  open : 

Arrest  them  to  the  answer  of  the  law ; 

And  God  acquit  them  of  their  practices ! 

Exe.   I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Richard 
Earl  of  Cambridge. 

I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Henry  Lord 
Scroop  of  Masham. 

I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Grey, 
knight,  of  Northumberland.  50 

Scroop.  Our  purposes  God  justly  hath  discover'd ; 
And  I  repent  my  fault  more  than  my  death  ; 
Which  I  beseech  your  highness  to  forgive, 
Although  my  body  pay  the  price  of  it. 

Cam.  For  me,  the  gold  of  France  did  not  seduce ; 
Although  I  did  admit  it  as  a  motive 
The  sooner  to  effect  what  I  intended : 
But  God  be  thanked  for  prevention ; 

Which  I  in  sufferance  heartily  will  rejoice,  i'.J>i; 

Beseeching  God  and  you  to  pardon  me.  160 

Grey.  Never  did  faithful  subject  more  rejoice 
At  the  discovery  of  most  dangerous  treason 
Than  I  do  at  this  hour  joy  o'er  myself, 
Prevented  from  a  damned  enterprise : 
My  fault,  but  not  my  body,  pardon,  sovereign. 

K.  Hen.  God  quit  you   in  his  mercy!     Hear  your  sen- 
tence. 

You  have  conspired  against  our  royal  person, 
Join'd  with  an  enemy  proclaim'd  and  from  his  coffers 
Received  the  golden  earnest  of  our  death ; 


58  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

Wherein  you  would  have  sold  your  king  to  slaughter,         170 

His  princes  and  his  peers  to  servitude, 

His  subjects  to  oppression  and  contempt 

And  his  whole  kingdom  into  desolation. 

Touching  our  person  seek  we  no  revenge ; 

But  we  our  kingdom's  safety  must  so  tender, 

Whose  ruin  you  have  sought,  that  to  her  laws 

We  do  deliver  you.     Get  you  therefore  hence, 

Poor  miserable  wretches,  to  your  death : 

The  taste  whereof,  God  of  his  mercy  give 

You  patience  to  endure,  and  true  repentance  180 

Of  all  your  dear  offences  !     Bear  them  hence. 

[Exeunt  Cambridge,  Scroop  and  Grey,  guarded. 
Now,  lords,  for  France ;  the  enterprise  whereof 
Shall  be  to  you,  as  us,  like  glorious. 
We  doubt  not  of  a  fair  and  lucky  war, 
Since  God  so  graciously  hath  brought  to  light 
This  dangerous  treason  lurking  in  our  way 
To  hinder  our  beginnings.     We  doubt  not  now 
But  every  rub  is  smoothed  on  our  way. 
Then  forth,  dear  countrymen :  let  us  deliver 
Our  puissance  into  the  hand  of  God,  190 

Putting  it  straight  in  expedition. 
Cheerly  to  sea ;  the  signs  of  war  advance : 
No  king  of  England,  if  not  king  of  France.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III.     London.     Before  a  tavern. 
Enter  PISTOL,  Hostess,  NYM,  BARDOLPH,  and  Boy. 

Host.  Prithee,  honey-sweet  husband,  let  me  bring  thee  to 
Staines. 

Pist.   No ;  for  my  manly  heart  doth  yearn. 
Bardnlph,  be  blithe:  Nym,  rouse  thy  vaunting  veins: 
Boy,  bristle  thy  courage  up;  for  Falstaff  he  is  dead, 
And  we  must  yearn  therefore. 

Bard.  Would  I  were  with  him,  wheresome'er  he  is,  either 
in  heaven  or  in  hell !  8 

Host.  Nay,  sure,  he's  not  in  hell:  he's  in  Arthur's  bosom, 
if  ever  man  went  to  Arthur's  bosom.  A'  made  a  finer  end 
and  went  away  an  it  had  been  any  christom  child;  a'  parted 
even  just  between  twelve  and  one,  even  at  the  turning  o'  the 
tide :  for  after  I  saw  him  fumble  with  the  sheets  and  play 
with  flowers  and  smile  upon  his  fingers'  ends,  I  knew  therf 
was  but  one  way ;  for  his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a  pen,  and  a' 


Scenes-]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  59 

babbled  of  green  fields.  'How  now,  Sir  John!'  quoth  I: 
'what,  man!  be  o'  good  cheer.'  So  a'  cried  out  'God,  God, 
God!'  three  or  four  times.  Now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid  him 
a'  should  not  think  of  God ;  I  hoped  there  was  no  need  to 
trouble  himself  with  any  such  thoughts  yet.  So  a'  bade  me 
lay  more  clothes  on  his  feet:  I  put  my  hand  into  the  bed  and 
felt  them,  and  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone ;  then  I  felt  to 
his  knees,  and  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone,  and  so  upward 
and  upward,  and  all  was  as  cold  as  any  stone.  24 

Nym.  They  say  he  cried  out  of  sack. 

Host.  Ay,  that  a'  did. 

Bard.  And  of  women. 

Host.  Nay,  that  a'  did  not. 

Boy.  Yes,  that  a'  did;  and  said  they  were  devils  in- 
carnate. 30 

Host.  A'  could  never  abide  carnation ;  't  was  a  colour  he 
never  liked. 

Boy.  A'  said  once  the  devil  would  have  him  about  women. 

Host.  A'  did  in  some  sort,  indeed,  handle  women ;  but  then 
he  was  rheumatic,  and  talked  of  the  whore  of  Babylon. 

Boy.  Do  you  not  remember,  a'  saw  a  flea  stick  upon  Bar- 
dolph's  nose,  and  a'  said  it  was  a  black  soul  burning  in  hell- 
fire? 

Bard.  Well,  the  fuel  is  gone  that  maintained  that  fire: 
that 's  all  the  riches  I  got  in  his  service.  40 

Nym.  Shall  we  shog?  the  king  will  be  gone  from  South- 
ampton. 

Pist.  Come,  let 's  away.     My  love,  give  me  thy  lips. 
Look  to  my  chattels  and  my  movables : 
Let  senses  rule ;  the  word  is  '  Pitch  and  Pay' : 
Trust  none ; 

For  oaths  are  straws,  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes, 
And  hold-fast  is  the  only  dog,  my  duck : 
Therefore,  Caveto  be  thy  counsellor. 

Go,  clear  thy  crystals.     Yoke-fellows  in  arms,  5° 

Let  us  to  France ;  like  horse-leeches,  my  boys, 
To  suck,  to  suck,  the  very  blood  to  suck ! 

Boy.  And  that 's  but  unwholesome  food,  they  say. 

Pist.  Touch  her  soft  mouth,  and  march. 

Bard.  Farewell,  hostess.  [Kissing  her, 

Nym.  I  cannot  kiss,  that  is  the  humour  of  it ;  but,  adieu. 

Pist.  Let  housewifery  appear:    keep  close,   I  thee  com- 
mand. 

Host.  Farewell;  adieu-  [Exeunt. 


60  KING  HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  [Act  II. 


SCENE  IV.     France.     The  KING'S  palace. 

Flourish.     Enter  the  FRENCH  KING,  the  DAUPHIN,  the 

DUKES  OK  BEKRI  and  BRETAGNE,  the  CONSTABLE, 

and  others. 

Fr.  King.  Thus  comes  the  English  with  full  power  upor« 

us ; 

And  more  than  carefully  it  us  concerns 
To  answer  royally  in  our  defences. 
Therefore  the  Dukes  of  Berri  and  of  Bretagne 
Of  Brabant  and  of  Orleans,  shall  make  forth, 
And  you,  Prince  Dauphin,  with  all  swift  dispatch, 
To  line  and  new  repair  our  towns  of  war 
With  men  of  courage  and  with  means  defendant; 
For  England  his  approaches  makes  as  fierce 
As  waters  to  the  sucking  of  a  gulf.  10 

It  fits  us  then  to  be  as  provident 
As  fear  may  teach  us  out  of  late  examples 
Left  by  the  fatal  and  neglected  English 
Upon  our  fields. 

Dau.  My  most  redoubted  father, 

It  is  most  meet  we  arm  us  'gainst  the  foe ; 
For  peace  itself  should  not  so  dull  a  kingdom, 
Though  war  nor  no  known  quarrel  were  in  question, 
But  that  defences,  musters,  preparations, 
Should  be  maintain'd,  assembled  and  collected, 
As  were  a  war  in  expectation.  20 

Therefore,  I  say  't  is  meet  we  all  go  forth 
To  view  the  sick  and  feeble  parts  of  France : 
And  let  us  do  it  with  no  show  of  fear; 
No,  with  no  more  than  if  we  heard  that  England 
Were  busied  with  a  Whitsun  morris-dance : 
For,  my  good  liege,  she  is  so  idly  king'd, 
Her  sceptre  so  fantastically  borne 
By  a  vain,  giddy,  shallow,  humorous  youth, 
That  fear  attends  her  not. 

Con.  O  peace,  Prince  Dauphin ! 

You  are  too  much  mistaken  in  this  king ;  30 

Question  your  gjace  the  late  ambassadors, 
With  what  great  state  he  heard  their  embassy, 
How  well  supplied  with  noble  counsellors, 
How  modest  in  exception,  and  withal 
How  terrible  in  constant  resolution, 


Scene  4.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  61 

And  you  shall  find  his  vanities  forespent 

Were  but  the  outside  of  the  Roman  Brutus, 

Covering  discretion  with  a  coat  of  folly  ; 

As  gardeners  do  with  ordure  hide  those  roots 

That  shall  first  spring  and  be  most  delicate.  40 

Dau.  Well,  't  is  not  so,  my  lord  high  constable ; 
But  though  we  think  it  so,  it  is  no  matter: 
In  cases  of  defence  'tis  best  to  weigh 
The  enemy  more  mighty  than  he  seems : 
So  the  proportions  of  defence  are  fill'd ; 
Which  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection 
Doth,  like  a  miser,  spoil  his  coat  with  scanting 
A  little  cloth. 

Fr.  King.     Think  we  King  Harry  strong; 
And,  princes,  look  you  strongly  arm  to  meet  him. 
The  kindred  of  him  hath  been  flesh'd  upon  us ;  50 

And  he  is  bred  out  of  that  bloody  strain 
That  haunted  us  in  our  familiar  paths : 
Witness  our  too  much  memorable  shame 
When  Cressy  battle  fatally  was  struck, 
And  all  our  princes  captived  by  the  hand 
Of  that  black  name,  Edward,  Black  Prince  of  Wales ; 
Whiles  that  his  mountain  sire,  on  mountain  standing, 
Up  in  the  air,  crown'd  with  the  golden  sun, 
Saw  his  heroical  seed,  and  smiled  to  see  him, 
Mangle  the  work  of  nature  and  deface  60 

The  patterns  that  by  God  and  by  French  fathers 
Had  twenty  years  been  made.     This  is  a  stem 
Of  that  victorious  stock ;  and  let  us  fear 
The  native  mightiness  and  fate  of  him. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Ambassadors  from  Harry  King  of  England 
Do  crave  admittance  to  your  majesty. 

Fr,  King.  We'll  give  them  present  audience.      Go,  and 
bring  them.        {Exeunt  Messenger  and  certain  Lords 
You  see  this  chase  is  hotly  follow'd,  friends. 

Dau.  Turn  head,  and  stop  pursuit ;  for  coward  dogs 
Most  spend  their  mouths  when  what  they  seem  to  threaten 
Runs  far  before  them.     Good  my  sovereign,  7' 

Take  up  the  English  short,  and  let  them  know 
Of  what  a  monarchy  you  are  the  head : 
Self-love,  my  liege,  is  not  so  vile  a  sin 
As  self-neglecting. 


62  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

Re-enter  Lords,  with  EXETER  and  train. 

Fr.  King.  From  our  brother  England? 

Exe.  From  him ;  and  thus  he  greets  your  majesty. 
He  wills  you,  in  the  name  of  God  Almighty, 
That  you  divest  yourself,  and  lay  apart 
The  borrow'd  glories  that  by  gift  of  heaven, 
By  law  of  nature  and  of  nations,  longs  80 

To  him  and  to  his  heirs ;  namely,  the  crown 
And  all  wide-stretched  honours  that  pertain 
By  custom  and  the  ordinance  of  times 
Unto  the  crown  of  France.     That  you  may  know 
'T  is  no  sinister  nor  no  awkward  claim, 
Pick'd  from  the  worm-holes  of  long-vanish'd  days, 
Nor  from  the  dust  of  old  oblivion  raked, 
He  sends  you  this  most  memorable  line, 
In  every  branch  truly  demonstrative; 

Willing  you  overlook  this  pedigree:  90 

And  when  you  find  him  evenly  derived 
From  his  most  famed  of  famous  ancestors, 
Edward  the  Third,  he  bids  you  then  resign 
Your  crown  and  kingdom,  indirectly  held 
From  him  the  native  and  true  challenger. 

Fr.  King.  Or  else  what  follows? 

Exe.  Bloody  constraint ;  for  if  you  hide  the  crown 
Even  in  your  hearts,  there  will  he  rake  for  it : 
Therefore  in  fierce  tempest  is  he  coming, 
In  thunder  and  in  earthquake,  like  a  Jove,  1OO 

That,  if  requiring  fail,  he  will  compel ; 
And  bids  you,  in  the  bowels  of  the  Lord, 
Deliver  up  the  crown,  and  to  take  mercy 
On  the  poor  souls  for  whom  this  hungry  war 
Opens  his  vasty  jaws ;  and  on  your  head 
Turning  the  widows'  tears,  the  orphans'  cries, 
The  dead  men's  blood,  the  pining  maidens'  groans, 
For  husbands,  fathers  and  betrothed  lovers, 
That  shall  be  swallow'd  in  this  controversy. 
This  is  his  claim,  his  threatening  and  my  message;  MC 

Unless  the  Dauphin  be  in  presence  here, 
To  whom  expressly  I  bring  greeting  too. 

Fr.  King.  For  us,  we  will  consider  of  this  further; 
To-morrow  shall  you  bear  our  full  intent 
Back  to  our  brother  England. 

Dau.  For  the  Dauphin, 

I  stand  here  fcr  him :  what  to  him  from  England? 


Scene  4.]          KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  63 

Exe.  Scorn  and  defiance,  slight  regard,  contempt, 
And  any  thing  that  may  not  misbecome 
The  mighty  sender,  doth  he  prize  you  at. 
Thus  says  my  king;  an  if  your  father's  highness  120 

Do  not,  in  grant  of  all  demands  at  large, 
Sweeten  the  bitter  mock  you  sent  his  majesty, 
He  '11  call  you  to  so  hot  an  answer  of  it, 
That  caves  and  womby  vaultages  of  France 
Shall  chide  your  trespass  and  return  your  mock 
In  second  accent  of  his  ordinance. 

Dau.  Say,  if  my  father  render  fair  return, 
It  is  against  my  will ;  for  I  desire 
Nothing  but  odds  with  England :  to  that  end, 
As  matching  to  his  youth  and  vanity,  130 

I  did  present  him  with  the  Paris  balls. 

Exe.  He'll  make  your  Paris  Louvre  shake  for  it, 
Were  it  the  mistress-court  of  mighty  Europe : 
And,  be  assured,  you  '11  find  a  difference, 
As  we  his  subjects  have  in  wonder  found, 
Between  the  promise  of  his  greener  days 
And  these  he  masters  now :  now  he  weighs  time 
Even  to  the  utmost  grain :  that  you  shall  read 
In  your  own  losses,  if  he  stay  in  France. 

Fr.  King.  To-morrow  shall  you  know  our  mind  at  full. 

{Flourish. 

Exe.  Dispatch  us  with  aM  speed,  lest  that  our  king        141 
Come  here  himself  to  question  our  delay ; 
For  he  is  footed  in  this  land  already. 

Fr.  King.  You  shall  be  soon  dispatch'd  with  fair  conditions: 
A  night  is  but  small  breath  and  little  pause 
To  answer  matters  of  this  consequence.  \Exeunt. 


ACT   III. 
PROLOGUE. 

Enter  Chorus. 


Chor.  Thus  with  imagined  wing  our  swift  scene  flies 
In  motion  of  no  less  celerity 

Than  that  of  thought.     Suppose  that  you  have  seen 
The  well-appointed  king  at  Hampton  pier 
Embark  his  royalty ;  and  his  brave  fleet 


64  KINC;    HENRY  THK   FIFTH.  [Act  IIL 

With  silken  streamers  the  young  1'hccbus  fanning: 

IMay  with  your  fancies,  and  in  them  behold 

Upon  the  hempen  tackle  ship-boys  climbing; 

Hear  the  shrill  whistle  which  doth  order  give 

To  sounds  confused ;  behold  the  threaden  sails, 

Borne  with  the  invisible  and  creeping  wind, 

Draw  the  huge  bottoms  through  the  furrow'd  sea. 

Breasting  the  lofty  surge :  O,  do  but  think 

You  stand  upon  the  rivage  and  behold 

A  city  on  the  inconstant  billows  dancing; 

For  so  appears  this  fleet  majestical, 

Holding  due  course  to  Harnew.      Follow,  follow: 

Grapple  your  minds  to  sternage  of  this  navy, 

And  leave  your  England,  as  dead  midnight  still, 

Guarded  with  grandsires,  babies  and  old  women,  20 

Either  past  or  not  arrived  to  pith  and  puissance; 

For  who  is  he,  whose  chin  is  but  enrich'd 

With  one  appearing  hair,  that  will  not  follow 

These  cull'd  and  choice-drawn  cavaliers  to  France? 

Work,  work  your  thoughts,  and  therein  see  a  siege ; 

Behold  the  ordnance  on  their  carriages^ 

With  fatal  mouths  gaping  on  girded  Harflew. 

Suppose  the  ambassador  from  the  French  comes  back ; 

Tells  Harry  that  the  king  doth  offer  him 

Katharine  his  daughter,  and  with  her,  to  dowry,  30 

Some  petty  and  unprofitable  dukedoms. 

The  offer  likes  not :  and  the  nimble  gunner 

With  linstock  now  the  devilish  cannon  touches, 

[Alarum,  and  chambers  go  off 
And  down  goes  all  before  them.     Still  be  kind, 
And  eche  out  our  performance  with  your  mind.  [Exit. 

SCENE  I.     France.     Before  Harfleur. 

Alarum.    Enter  KING  HENRY,  EXETER,  BEDFORD, 
GLOUCESTER,  and  Soldiers,  with  scaling-ladders. 

K.  Hen.  Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once 

more; 

Or  close  the  wall  up  with  our  English  dead. 
In  peace  there  "s  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility: 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger ; 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood, 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  65 

Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favour*  d  rage ; 

Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect ; 

Let  it  pry  through  the  portage  of  the  head  10 

Like  the  brass  cannon  ;  let  the  brow  o'erwhelm  it 

As  fearfully  as  doth  a  galled  rock 

O'erhang  and  jutty  his  confounded  base, 

Swill'd  with  the  wild  and  wasteful  ocean. 

Now  set  the  teeth  and  stretch  the  nostril  wide, 

Hold  hard  the  breath  and  bend  up  every  spirit 

To  his  full  height.     On,  on,  you  noblest  English, 

Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof! 

Fathers  that,  like  so  many  Alexanders, 

Have  in  these  parts  from  morn  till  even  fought  20 

And  sheathed  their  swords  for  lack  of  argument : 

Dishonour  not  your  mothers  ;  now  attest 

That  those  whom  you  call'd  fathers  did  beget  you. 

Be  copy  now  to  men  of  grosser  blood, 

And  teach  them  how  to  war.     And  you,  good  yeomen. 

Whose  limbs  were  made  in  England,  show  us  here 

The  mettle  of  your  pasture ;  let  us  swear 

That  you  are  worth  your  breeding ;  which  I  doubt  not ; 

For  there  is  none  of  you  so  mean  and  base, 

That  hath  not  noble  lustre  in  your  eyes.  30 

I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips, 

Straining  upon  the  start.     The  game 's  afoot : 

Follow  your  spirit,  and  upon  this  charge 

Cry  'God  for  Harry,  England,  and  Saint  George!' 

\Exeunt.     Alarum,  and  chambers  go  off. 

SCENE  II.     The  same. 
Enter  NYM,  BARDOLPH,  PISTOL,  and  Boy. 

Bard.  On,  on,  on,  on,  on !  to  the  breach,  to  the  breach ! 

Nym.  Pray  thee,  corporal,  stay:  the  knocks  are  too  hot; 
and,  for  mine  own  part,  I  have  not  a  case  of  lives :  the 
humour  of  it  is  too  hot,  that  is  the  very  plain-song  of  it. 

Pist.  The  plain-song  is  most  just;  for  humours  do  abound: 
Knocks  go  and  come ;  God's  vassals  drop  and  die ; 

And  sword  and  shield, 
In  bloody  field, 
Doth  win  immortal  fame. 

Boy.  Would  I  were  in  an  ale-house  in  London !  I  would 
give  all  my  fame  for  a  pot  of  ale  and  safety.  1 1 

(M178)  E 


66  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

Pist   And  I : 

If  wishes  would  prevail  with  me, 
My  purpose  should  not  fail  with  me, 
But  thither  would  I  hie. 

Boy.  As  duly,  but  not  as  truly, 

As  bird  doth  sing  on  bough. 

Enter  FLUELLEN. 

Flu.  Up  to  the  breach,  you  dogs !  avaunt,  you  cullions ! 

[Drii'ing  them  forward. 

Pist.  Be  merciful,  great  duke,  to  men  of  mould. 
Abate  thy  rage,  abate  thy  manly  rage,  20 

Abate  thy  rage,  great  duke ! 
Good  bawcock,  bate  thy  rage ;  use  lenity,  sweet  chuck ! 

Nym.  These  be  good  humours !  your  honour  wins  bad 
humours.  [Exeunt  all  but  Boy. 

Boy.  As  young  as  I  am,  I  have  observed  these  three 
swashers.  I  am  boy  to  them  all  three :  but  all  they  three, 
though  they  would  serve  me,  could  not  be  man  to  me ;  for 
indeed  three  such  antics  do  not  amount  to  a  man.  For 
Bardolph,  he  is  white-livered  and  red-faced ;  by  the  means 
whereof  a'  faces  it  out,  but  fights  not.  For  Pistol,  he  hath  a 
killing  tongue  and  a  quiet  sword ;  by  the  means  whereof 
a'  breaks  words,  and  keeps  whole  weapons.  For  Nym,  he 
hath  heard  that  men  of  lew  words  are  the  best  men ;  and 
therefore  he  scorns  to  say  his  prayers,  lest  a'  should  be  thought 
a  coward :  but  his  few  bad  words  are  matched  with  as  few 
good  deeds ;  for  a'  never  broke  any  man's  head  but  his  own, 
and  that  was  against  a  post  when  he  was  drunk.  They  will 
steal  any  thing,  and  call  it  purchase.  Bardolph  stole  a  lute- 
case,  bore  it  twelve  leagues,  and  sold  it  for  three  half- 
pence. Nym  and  Bardolph  are  sworn  brothers  in  filching, 
and  in  Callice  they  stole  a  fire-shovel :  I  knew  by  that  piece 
of  service  the  men  would  carry  coals.  They  would  have  me 
as  familiar  with  men's  pockets  as  their  gloves  or  their  hand- 
kerchers :  which  makes  much  against  my  manhood,  if  I 
should  take  from  another's  pocket  to  put  into  mine ;  for  it 
is  plain  pocketing  up  of  wrongs.  I  must  leave  them,  and 
seek  some  better  service :  their  villany  goes  against  my 
weak  stomach,  and  therefore  I  must  cast  it  up.  \Exit.  48 

Re-enter  FLUELLEN,  GOWER  following. 

Gow.  Captain  Fluellen,  you  must  come  presently  to  the 
mines  ;  the  L)uke  of  Gloucester  would  speak  with  you.  50 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  67 

Flu.  To  the  mines !  tell  you  the  duke,  it  is  not  so  good  to 
come  to  the  mines ;  for,  look  you,  the  mines  is  not  according 
to  the  disciplines  of  the  war:  the  concavities  of  it  is  not 
sufficient ;  for,  look  you,  th'  athversary,  you  may  discuss 
unto  the  duke,  look  you,  is  digt  himself  four  yard  under  the 
countermines:  by  Cheshu,  I  think  a'  will  plow  up  all,  if 
there  is  not  better  directions. 

Cow.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  to  whom  the  order  of  the 
siege  is  given,  is  altogether  directed  by  an  Irishman,  a 
very  valiant  gentleman,  i'  faith.  60 

Flu.  It  is  Captain  Macmorris,  is  it  not? 

Gow.  I  think  it  be. 

Flu.  By  Cheshu,  he  is  an  ass,  as  in  the  world :  I  will  verify 
as  much  in  his  beard :  he  has  no  more  directions  in  the  true 
disciplines  of  the  wars,  look  you,  of  the  Roman  disciplines, 
than  is  a  puppy-dog. 

Enter  MACMORRIS  and  Captain  JAMY. 

GOTV.  Here  a'  comes ;  and  the  Scots  captain,  Captain  Jamy, 
with  him.  68 

Flu.  Captain  Jamy  is  a  marvellous  falorous  gentleman, 
that  is  certain ;  and  of  great  expedition  and  knowledge  in 
th'  aunchient  wars,  upon  my  particular  knowledge  of  his 
directions :  by  Cheshu,  he  will  maintain  his  argument  as  well 
as  any  military  man  in  the  world,  in  the  disciplines  of  the 
pristine  wars  of  the  Romans. 

Jamy.  I  say  gud-day,  Captain  Fluellen. 

Flu.  God-den  to  your  worship,  good  Captain  James. 

GOIV.  How  now.  Captain  Macmorris !  have  you  quit  the 
mines?  have  the  pioners  given  o'er?  78 

Mac.  By  Chrish,  la !  tish  ill  done :  the  work  ish  give  over, 
the  trompet  sound  the  retreat.  By  my  hand,  I  swear,  and 
my  father's  soul,  the  work  ish  ill  done ;  it  ish  give  over :  I 
would  have  blowed  up  the  town,  so  Chrish  save  me,  la !  in 
an  hour :  O,  tish  ill  done,  tish  ill  done ;  by  my  hand,  tish  ill 
done ! 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  I  beseech  you  now,  will  you 
voutsafe  me,  look  you,  a  few  disputations  with  you,  as  partly 
touching  or  concerning  the  disciplines  of  the  war,  the  Roman 
wars,  in  the  way  of  argument,  look  you,  and  friendly  com- 
munication ;  partly  to  satisfy  my  opinion,  and  partly  for  the 
satisfaction,  look  you,  of  my  mind,  as  touching  the  direction 
of  the  military  discipline  ;  that  is  the  point.  91 

Jamy.     It  sail  be  vary  gud,  gud  feith,  gud  captains  bath: 


68  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

and  I  sal!  quit  you  with  gud  leve,  as  I  may  pick  occasion ; 
that  sail  I,  marry. 

A/of.  It  is  no  time  to  discourse,  so  Chrish  save  me:  the 
day  is  hot,  and  the  weather,  and  the  wars,  and  the  king, 
and  the  dukes:  it  is  no  time  to  discourse.  The  town  is 
beseeched,  and  the  trumpet  call  us  to  the  breach ;  and  we 
talk,  and,  be  Chrish,  do  nothing:  'tis  shame  for  us  all:  so 
God  sa'  me,  'tis  shame  to  stand  still;  it  is  shame,  by  my 
hand :  and  there  is  throats  to  be  cut,  and  works  to  be  done ; 
and  there  ish  nothing  done,  so  Chrish  sa'  me,  la!  102 

Jamy.  By  the  mess,  ere  theise  eyes  of  mine  take  themselves 
to  slomber,  ay '11  dc  gud  service,  or  ay '11  lig  i'  the  grund  for 
it ;  ay,  or  go  to  death  ;  and  ay  '11  pay 't  as  valorously  as  I 
may,  that  sail  I  suerly  do,  that  is  the  breff  and  the  long. 
Marry,  I  wad  full  fain  hear  some  question  'tween  you  tway. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  I  think,  look  you,  under  your 
correction,  there  is  not  many  of  your  nation —  109 

Mac.  Of  my  nation!  What  ish  my  nation?  Ish  a  villain, 
and  a  bastard,  and  a  knave,  and  a  rascal-  What  ish  my 
nation?  Who  talks  of  my  nation? 

Flu.  Look  you,  if  you  take  the  matter  otherwise  than  is 
meant,  Captain  Macmorris,  peradventure  I  shall  think  you 
do  not  use  me  with  that  affability  as  in  discretion  you  ought 
to  use  me,  look  you ;  being  as  good  a  man  as  yourself,  both 
in  the  disciplines  of  war,  and  in  the  derivation  of  my  birth, 
and  in  other  particularities. 

Mac.  I  do  not  know  you  so  good  a  man  as  myself:  so 
Chrish  save  me,  I  will  cut  off  your  head.  120^ 

Gow.  Gentlemen  both,  you  will  mistake  each  other. 

Jamy.  A  !  that 's  a  foul  fault.  [A  parley  sounded. 

Gow.  The  town  sounds  a  parley. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  when  there  is  more  better  op- 
portunity to  be  required,  look  you,  I  will  be  so  bold  as  to 
tell  you  I  know  the  disciplines  of  war;  and  there  is  an  end. 

[Exeunt 

SCENE  III.     T/te  same.     Before  the  gates. 

The  Governor  and  some  Citizens  on  the  walls;  the  English  \ 
forces  below.     EntcrKvtG  HENRY  and  his  train. 

K.  Hen.  How  yet  resolves  the  governor  of  the  town? 
This  is  the  latest  parle  we  will  admit : 
Therefore  to  our  best  mercy  give  yourselves ; 
Or  like  to  men  proud  of  destruction 
Defy  us  to  our  worst :  for,  as  I  am  a  soldier, 


3cene  3.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  69 

A  name  that  in  my  thoughts  becomes  me  best. 

If  I  begin  the  battery  once  again, 

I  will  not  leave  the  half-achieved  Harflew 

Till  in  her  ashes  she  lie  buried. 

The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up,  ic 

And  the  flesh'd  soldier,  rough  and  hard  of  heart, 

In  liberty  of  bloody  hand  shall  range 

With  conscience  wide  as  hell,  mowing  like  grass 

Your  fresh-fair  virgins  and  your  flowering  infants 

What  is  it  then  to  me,  if  impious  war, 

Array'd  in  flames  like  to  the  prince  of  fiends, 

Do,  with  his  smirch'd  complexion,  all  fell  feats 

Enlink'd  to  waste  and  desolation? 

What  is't  to  me,  when  you  yourselves  are  cause, 

If  your  pure  maidens  fall  into  the  hand  2O 

Of  hot  and  forcing  violation? 

What  rein  can  hold  licentious  wickedness 

When  down  the  hill  he  holds  his  fierce  career? 

We  may  as  bootless  spend  our  vain  command 

Upon  the  enraged  soldiers  in  their  spoil 

As  send  precepts  to  the  leviathan 

To  come  ashore.     Therefore,  you  men  of  Harflew, 

Take  pity  of  your  town  and  of  your  people, 

Whiles  yet  my  soldiers  are  in  my  command ; 

Whiles  yet  the  cool  and  temperate  wind  of  grace  30 

O'erblows  the  filthy  and  contagious  clouds 

Of  heady  murder,  spoil  and  villany. 

If  not,  why,  in  a  moment  look  to  see 

The  blind  and  bloody  soldier  with  foul  hand 

Defile  the  locks  of  your  shrill-shrieking  daughters ; 

Your  fathers  taken  by  the  silver  beards, 

And  their  most  reverend  heads  dash'd  to  the  walls ; 

Your  naked  infants  spitted  upon  pikes, 

Whiles  the  mad  mothers  with  their  howls  confused 

Do  break  the  clouds,  as  did  the  wives  of  Jewry  40 

At  Herod's  bloody-hunting  slaughtermen. 

What  say  you?  will  you  yield,  and  this  avoid, 

Or,  guilty  in  defence,  be  thus  destroy'd? 

Gov.  Our  expectation  hath  this  day  an  end : 
The  Dauphin,  whom  of  succours  we  entreated, 
Returns  us  that  his  powers  are  yet  not  ready 
To  raise  so  great  a  siege.     Therefore,  great  king, 
>We  yield  our  town  and  lives  to  thy  soft  mercy. 
Enter  our  gates ;  dispose  of  us  and  ours  • 
For  we  no  longer  are  defensible.  50 


70  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

A'.  Hen.  Open  your  gates.     Come,  uncle  Exeter, 
Go  you  and  enter  Hartlew;  there  remain, 
And  fortify  it  strongly  'gainst  the  French: 
Use  mercy  to  them  all.     For  us,  dear  uncle, 
The  winter  coming  on  and  sickness  growing 
Upon  our  soldiers,  we  will  retire  to  Callice. 
To-night  in  Harflew  will  we  be  your  guest ; 
To-morrow  for  the  march  are  we  addrest 

\Flourish.     The  King  and  his  train  enter  the  town. 

SCENE  IV.     The  FRENCH  KING'S  palace. 
Enter  KATHARINE  and  ALICE. 

Kath.  Alice,  tu  as  die"  en  Angleterre,  et  tu  paries  bien  le 
langage. 

Alice.  Un  peu,  madame. 

Kath.  Je  te  prie,  m'enseignez ;  il  faut  que  j'apprenne  .\ 
parler.  Comment  appelez-vous  la  main  en  Anglois? 

Alice.  La  main?  elle  est  appelde  de  hand. 

Kath.  De  hand.     Et  les  doigts? 

Alice.  Les  doigts?  ma  foi,  j'oublie  les  doigts;  mais  je  me 
souviendrai.  Les  doigts?  je  pense  qu'ils  sont  appele"s  de 
fingres ;  oui,  de  fingres.  10 

Kath.  La  main,  de  hand  ;  les  doigts,  de  fingres.  Je  pense 
que  je  suis  le  bon  e"colier ;  j'ai  gagnd  deux  mots  d'Anglois 
vitement.  Comment  appelez-vous  les  ongles? 

Alice.  Les  ongles?  nous  les  appelons  de  nails. 

Kath.  De  nails.  Ecoutez ;  dites-moi,  si  je  parle  bien :  de 
hand,  de  fingres,  et  de  nails. 

Alice.  C'est  bien  dit,  madame;  il  est  fort  bon  Anglois. 

Kath.  Dites-moi  1'Anglois  pour  le  bras. 

Alice.  De  arm,  madame. 

Kath.  Et  le  coude?  20 

Alice.  De  elbow. 

Kath.  De  elbow.  Je  m'en  fais  la  re'pe'tition  de  tous  les 
mots  que  vous  m'avez  appris  des  a  present. 

Alice.  II  est  trop  difficile,  madame,  comme  je  pense. 

Kath.  Excusez-moi,  Alice ;  Ecoutez :  de  hand,  de  fingres, 
de  nails,  de  arma,  de  bilbow. 

Alice.  De  elbow,  madame. 

Kath.  O  Seigneur  Dieu,  je  m'en  oublie !  de  elbow.  Com- 
ment appelez-vous  le  col? 

Alice.  De  neck,  madame.  30 

Kath.  De  nick.     Et  le  menton? 

Alice.   De  chin. 


Scene  5.]  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  71 

Kath.  De  sin.     Le  col,  de  nick ;  le  menton,  de  sin. 

Alice.  Oui.  Sauf  votre  honneur,  en  verite,  vous  prononcez 
les  mots  aussi  droit  que  les  natifs  d'Angleterre. 

Kath.  Je  ne  doute  point  d'apprendre,  par  la  grace  de  Dieu, 
et  en  peu  de  temps. 

Alice.  N'avez-vous  pas  deja  oublie  ce  que  je  vous  ai  en- 
seigne"? 

Kath.  Non,  je  reciterai  a  vous  promptement :  de  hand,  de 
fingres,  de  mails, —  41 

Alice.  De  nails,  madame. 

Kath.  De  nails,  de  arm,  de  ilbow. 

Alice.  Sauf  votre  honneur,  de  elbow. 

Kath.  Ainsi  dis-je ;  de  elbow,  de  nick,  et  de  sin.  Com- 
ment appelez-vous  le  pied  et  la  robe? 

Alice.  De  foot,  madame ;  et  de  coun. 

Kath.  De  foot  et  de  coun !  O  Seigneur  Dieu !  ce  sont 
mots  de  son  mauvais,  corruptible,  gros,  et  impudique,  et  non 
pour  les  dames  d'honneur  d'user:  je  ne  voudrais  prononcer 
ces  mots  devant  les  seigneurs  de  France  pour  tout  le  monde. 
Fob  !  le  foot  et  le  coun !  Ne'anmoins,  je  reciterai  une  autre 
fois  ma  le$on  ensemble :  de  hand,  de  fingres,  de  nails,  de  arm, 
de  elbow,  de  nick,  de  sin,  de  foot,  de  coun.  54 

Alice.  Excellent,  madame ! 

Kath.  C'est  assez  pour  une  fois :  allons-nous  a  diner. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  V.     The  same 

Enter  the  KING  OF  FRANCE,  the  DAUPHIN,  the  DUKE  OF 
BOURBON,  the  CONSTABLE  OF  FRANCE,  and  others. 

Fr.  King.  'T  is  certain  he  hath  pass'd  the  river  Somme. 

Con.  And  if  he  be  not  fought  withal,  my  lord, 
Let  us  not  live  in  France ;  let  us  quit  all 
And  give  our  vineyards  to  a  barbarous  people. 

Dau.  O  Dieu  vivant !  shall  a  few  sprays  of  us, 
The  emptying  of  our  fathers'  luxury, 
Our  scions,  put  in  wild  and  savage  stock, 
Spirt  up  so  suddenly  into  the  clouds, 
And  overlook  their  grafters? 

Bour.  Normans,  but  bastard  Normans,  Norman  bastards! 
Mort  de  ma  vie !  if  they  march  along  1 1 

Unfought  withal,  but  I  will  sell  my  dukedom, 
To  buy  a  slobbery  and  a  dirty  farm 
In  that  nook-shotten  isle  of  Albion. 

Con.  Dieu  de  batailles !  where  have  they  this  mettle? 
Is  not  their  climate  foggy,  raw  and  dull, 


72  KINV,    IIKNKY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

On  whom,  as  in  despite,  the  sun  looks  pale, 

Killing  their  fruit  with  frowns?     Can  sodden  water, 

A  drench  for  sur-rein'd  jades,  their  barley-broth, 

Decoct  their  cold  blood  to  such  valiant  heat?  20 

And  shall  our  quick  blood,  spirited  with  wine, 

Seem  frosty?     O,  for  honour  of  our  land, 

Let  us  not  hang  like  roping  icicles 

Upon  our  houses'  thatch,  whiles  a  more  frosty  people 

Sweat  drops  of  gallant  youth  in  our  rich  fields! 

Poor  we  may  call  them  in  their  native  lords. 

Dau.  By  faith  and  honour, 
Our  madams  mock  at  us,  and  plainly  say 
Our  mettle  is  bred  out  and  they  will  give 
Their  bodies  to  the  lust  of  English  youth  30 

To  new-store  France  with  bastard  warriors. 

Rour.  They  bid  us  to  the  English  dancing-schools, 
And  teach  lavoltas  high  and  swift  corantos ; 
Saying  our  grace  is  only  in  our  heels, 
And  that  we  are  most  lofty  runaways. 

Fr.  King.  Where  is  Montjoy  the  herald?  speed  him  hence: 
Let  him  greet  England  with  our  sharp  defiance. 
Up,  princes!  and,  with  spirit  of  honour  edged 
More  sharper  than  your  swords,  hie  to  the  field: 
Charles  Delabreth,  high  constable  of  V ranee ;  40 

You  Dukes  of  Orleans,  Bourbon,  and  of  Berri, 
Alenqon,  Brabant,  Bar,  and  Burgundy; 
Jaques  Chatillon,  Kambures,  Yaudemont, 
Beaumont,  Grandpre",  Roussi,  and  Fauconberg. 
Foix,  Lestrale,  Bouciqualt,  and  Charolois; 
High  dukes,  great  princes,  barons,  lords  and  knights, 
For  your  great  seats  now  quit  you  of  great  shames. 
Bar  Harry  England,  that  sweeps  through  our  land 
With  pennons  painted  in  the  blood  of  Harflew  : 
Rush  on  his  host,  as  doth  the  melted  snow  50 

Upon  the  valleys,  whose  low  vassal  seat 
The  Alps  doth  spit  and  void  his  rheum  upon: 
Go  down  upon  him,  you  have  power  enough, 
And  in  a  captive  chariot  into  Roan 
Bring  him  our  prisoner. 

Con.  This  becomes  the  great. 

Sorry  am  I  his  numbers  are  so  few, 
His  soldiers  sick  and  famish'd  in  their  march, 
For  I  am  sure,  when  he  shall  see  our  army, 
He  '11  drop  his  heart  into  the  sink  of  fear 
And  for  achievement  offer  us  his  ransom.  60 


Scene  6.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  73 

Fr.  King.  Therefore,  lord  constable,  haste  on  Montjoy, 
And  let  him  say  to  England  that  we  send 
To  know  what  willing  ransom  he  will  give. 
Prince  Dauphin,  you  shall  stay  with  us  in  Roan. 

Dau.  Not  so,  I  do  beseech  your  majesty. 

Fr.  King.  Be  patient,  for  you  shall  remain  with  us. 
Now  forth,  lord  constable  and  princes  all, 
And  quickly  bring  us  word  of  England's  fall.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  VI.     The  English  camp  in  Picardy. 
Enter  GOWER  and  FLUELLEN,  meeting. 

Gow.  How  now,  Captain  Fluellen !  come  you  from  the 
bridge? 

Flu.  I  assure  you,  there  is  very  excellent  services  com 
mitted  at  the  bridge. 

Gow.  Is  the  Duke  of  Exeter  safe? 

Flu.  The  Duke  of  Exeter  is  as  magnanimous  as  Agamem- 
non ;  and  a  man  that  I  love  and  honour  with  my  soul,  and 
my  heart,  and  my  duty,  and  my  life,  and  my  living,  and  my 
uttermost  power :  he  is  not— God  be  praised  and  blessed ! — 
any  hurt  in  the  world ;  but  keeps  the  bridge  most  valiantly, 
with  excellent  discipline.  There  is  an  aunchient  lieutenant 
there  at  the  pridge,  I  think  in  my  very  conscience  he  is  as 
valiant  a  man  as  Mark  Antony ;  and  he  is  a  man  of  no  esti- 
mation in  the  world ;  but  I  did  see  him  do  as  gallant  service. 

Gow.  What  do  you  call  him?  15 

Flu.  He  is  called  Aunchient  Pistol. 

G&iv.  I  know  him  not. 

Enter  PISTOL. 

Flu.  Here  is  the  man. 

Pist.  Captain,  I  thee  beseech  to  do  me  favours : 
"ic  Duke  of  Exeter  doth  love  thee  well.  20 

Flu.  Ay,  I  praise  God ;  and  I  have  merited  some  love  at 

his  hands. 

Pist.  Bardolph,  a  soldier,  firm  and  sound  of  heart, 

And  of  buxom  valour,  hath,  by  cruel  fate, 

And  giddy  Fortune's  furious  fickle  wheel, 

That  goddess  blind, 

That  stands  upon  the  rolling  restless  stone —  27 

Flu.    By   your  patience,   Aunchient    Pistol.      Fortune   is 

painted  blind,  with  a  muffler  afore  her  eyes,  to  signify  to  you 

that  Fortune  is  blind ;  and  she  is  painted  also  with  a  wheel, 

to  signify  to  you,  which  is  the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning. 


74  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

and  inconstant,  and  mutability,  and  variation :  and  her  foot, 
look  you,  is  fixed  upon  a  spherical  stone,  which  rolls,  and 
rolls,  and  rolls:  in  good  truth,  the  poet  makes  a  most  excel- 
lent description  of  it :  Fortune  is  an  excellent  moral. 

Pist.  Fortune  is  Bardolph's  foe  and  frowns  on  him ; 
For  he  hath  stolen  a  pax,  and  hanged  must  a'  be : 
A  damned  death ! 

Let  gallows  gape  for  dog ;  let  man  go  free 
And  let  not  hemp  his  wind-pipe  suffocate:  40 

But  Exeter  hath  given  the  doom  of  death 
For  pax  of  little  price. 

Therefore,  go  speak :  the  duke  will  hear  thy  voice : 
And  let  not  Bardolph's  vital  thread  be  cut 
With  edge  ot  penny  cord  and  vile  reproach : 
Speak,  captain,  for  his  life,  and  I  will  thee  requite. 

Flu.  Aunchient  Pistol,  I  do  partly  understand  your  mean- 
ing. 

Pist.  Why  then,  rejoice  therefore.  49 

Flu.  Certainly,  aunchient,  it  is  not  a  thing  to  rejoice  at : 
for  if,  look  you,  he  were  my  brother,  1  would  desire  the  duke 
to  use  his  good  pleasure,  and  put  him  to  execution  ;  for  dis- 
cipline ought  to  be  used. 

Pist.  Die  and  be  damn'd  !  and  figo  for  thy  friendship! 

Flu.  It  is  well. 

Pist.  The  fig  of  Spain !  [Exit. 

Flu.  Very  good. 

Gow.  Why,  this  is  an  arrant  counterfeit  rascal ;  I  remem- 
ber him  now ;  a  bawd,  a  cutpurse.  59 

Flu.  I  '11  assure  you,  a'  uttered  as  prave  words  at  the  pridge 
as  you  shall  see  in  a  summer's  day.  But  it  is  very  well ;  what 
he  has  spoke  to  me,  that  is  well,  I  warrant  you,  when  time  is 
serve. 

Gow.  Why,  't  is  a  gull,  a  fool,  a  rogue,  that  now  and  then 
goes  to  the  wars,  to  grace  himself  at  his  return  into  London 
under  the  form  of  a  soldier.  And  such  fellows  are  perfect  in 
the  great  commanders'  names :  and  they  will  learn  you  by 
rote  where  services  were  done ;  at  such  and  such  a  sconce, 
at  such  a  breach,  at  such  a  convoy ;  who  came  off  bravely, 
who  was  shot,  who  disgraced,  what  terms  the  enemy  stood 
on ;  and  this  they  con  perfectly  in  the  phrase  of  war,  which 
they  trick  up  with  new-tuned  oaths :  and  what  a  beard  of  the 
general's  cut  and  a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp  will  do  among 
foaming  bottles  and  ale-washed  wits,  is  wonderful  to  be 
thought  on.  But  you  must  learn  to  know  such  slanders  of 
the  age,  or  else  you  may  be  marvellously  mistook.  76 


Scene  6.]  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  75 

Flu.  I  tell  you  what,  Captain  Gower;  I  do  perceive  he  is 
not  the  man  that  he  would  gladly  make  show  to  the  world  he 
is:  if  I  find  a  hole  in  his  coat,  I  will  tell  him  my  mind. 
[Drum  heard^\  Hark  you,  the  king  is  coming,  and  I  must 
speak  with  him  from  the  pridge.  81 

Drum  and  colours.     Enter  KING  HENRY, 
GLOUCESTER,  and  Soldiers. 

God  pless  your  majesty ! 

K.  Hen.  How  now,  Fluellen  !  earnest  thou  from  the  bridge? 

Flu.  Ay,  so  please  your  majesty.  The  Duke  of  Exeter  has 
very  gallantly  maintained  the  pridge :  the  French  is  gone  off, 
look  you ;  and  there  is  gallant  and  most  prave  passages ; 
marry,  th'  athversary  was  have  possession  of  the  pridge ;  but 
he  is  enforced  to  retire,  and  the  Duke  of  Exeter  is  master  of 
the  pridge :  I  can  tell  your  majesty,  the  duke  is  a  prave  man. 

K.  Hen.  What  men  have  you  lost,  Fluellen?  90 

Flu.  The  perdition  of  th'  athversary  hath  been  very  great, 
reasonable  great :  marry,  for  my  part,  I  think  the  duke  hath 
lost  never  a  man,  but  one  that  is  like  to  be  executed  for  rob- 
bing a  church,  one  Bardolph,  if  your  majesty  know  the  man  : 
his  face  is  all  bubukles,  and  whelks,  and  knobs,  and  flames  o' 
fire :  and  his  lips  blows  at  his  nose,  and  it  is  like  a  coal  of  fire, 
sometimes  plueand  sometimes  red;  but  his  nose  is  executed, 
and  his  fire 's  out.  98 

K.  Hen.  We  would  have  all  such  offenders  so  cut  off:  and 
we  give  express  charge,  that  in  our  marches  through  the 
country,  there  be  nothing  compelled  from  the  villages,  no- 
thing taken  but  paid  for,  none  of  the  French  upbraided  or 
abused  in  disdainful  language ;  for  when  lenity  and  cruelty 
play  for  a  kingdom,  the  gentler  gamester  is  the  soonest 
winner.  105 

Tucket.  Enter  MONTJOY. 

Mont.  You  know  me  by  my  habit. 

K.  Hen.  Well  then  I  know  thee .  what  shall  I  know  of 
thee? 

Mont.  My  master's  mind. 

K.  Hen.  Unfold  it.  i  ic 

Mont.  Thus  says  my  king:  Say  thou  to  Harry  of  England: 
Though  we  seemed  dead,  we  did  but  sleep :  advantage  is  a 
better  soldier  than  rashness.  Tell  him  we  could  have  rebuked 
him  at  Harflew,  but  that  we  thought  not  good  to  bruise  an 
injury  till  it  were  full  ripe :  now  we  speak  upon  our  cue,  and 
our  voice  is  imperial :  England  shall  repent  his  folly,  see  his 


76  KINO;    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

weakness,  and  admire  our  sufferance.  Bid  him  therefore 
consider  of  his  ransom ;  which  must  proportion  the  losses  we 
have  borne,  the  subjects  we  have  lost,  the  disgrace  we  have 
digested ;  which  in  weight  to  re-answer,  his  pettiness  would 
bow  under.  For  our  losses,  his  exchequer  is  too  poor;  for 
the  effusion  of  our  blood,  the  muster  of  his  kingdom  too  faint 
a  number ;  and  for  our  disgrace,  his  own  person,  kneeling  at 
our  feet,  but  a  weak  and  worthless  satisfaction.  To  this  add 
defiance :  and  tell  him,  for  conclusion,  he  hath  betrayed  his 
followers,  whose  condemnation  is  pronounced.  So  far  my 
king  and  master ;  so  much  my  office. 

A'.  Hen.  What  is  thy  name?     I  know  thy  quality. 

Mont.  Montjoy. 

K.  Hen.  Thou  dost  thy  office  fairly.     Turn  thee  back,  130 
And  tell  thy  king  I  do  not  seek  him  now ; 
But  could  be  willing  to  march  on  to  Callice 
Without  impeachment :  for,  to  say  the  sooth, 
Though  't  is  no  wisdom  to  confess  so  much 
Unto  an  enemy  of  craft  and  vantage, 
My  people  are  with  sickness  much  enfeebled, 
My  numbers  lessened,  and  those  few  I  have 
Almost  no  better  than  so  many  French; 
Who  when  they  were  in  health,  I  tell  thee,  herald, 
I  thought  upon  one  pair  of  English  legs  140 

Did  march  three  Frenchmen.     Yet,  forgive  me,  God, 
That  I  do  brag  thus !     This  your  air  of  France 
Hath  blown  that  vice  in  me ;  I  must  repent 
Go  therefore,  tell  thy  master  here  I  am; 
My  ransom  is  this  frail  and  worthless  trunk, 
My  army  but  a  weak  and  sickly  guard; 
Yet,  God  before,  tell  him  we  will  come  on, 
Though  France  himself  and  such  another  neighbour 
Stand  in  our  way.     There 's  for  thy  labour,  Montjoy. 
Go,  bid  thy  master  well  advise  himself:  150 

If  we  may  pass,  we  will ;  if  we  be  hinderM, 
We  shall  your  tawny  ground  with  your  red  blood 
Discolour:  and  so,  Montjoy,  fare  you  well 
The  sum  of  all  our  answer  is  but  this: 
We  would  not  seek  a  battle,  as  we  are ; 
Nor,  as  we  are,  we  say  we  will  not  shun  it : 
So  tell  your  master. 

Mont.  I  shall  deliver  so.  Thanks  to  your  highness.   [Exit. 

Glou.  I  hope  they  will  not  come  upon  us  now. 

K.  Hen.  We  are  in  God's  hand,  brother,  not  in  theirs.   160 
March  to  the  bridge;  it  now  draws  toward  night: 


Scene  7.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  77 

Beyond  the  river  we  '11  encamp  ourselves, 

And  on  to-morrow  bid  them  march  away.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII.     The  French  camp,  near  Agincouri 

Enter  the  CONSTABLE  OF  FRANCE,  the  LORD  RAMBURES, 
ORLEANS,  DAUPHIN,  with  others. 

Con.  Tut !  I  have  the  best  armour  of  the  world.  Would 
it  were  day ! 

Orl.  You  have  an  excellent  armour ;  but  let  my  horse  have 
his  due. 

Con.  It  is  the  best  horse  of  Europe. 

Orl.  Will  it  never  be  morning? 

Dau.  My  Lord  of  Orleans,  and  my  lord  high  constable, 
you  talk  of  horse  and  armour? 

Orl.  You  are  as  well  provided  of  both  as  any  prince  in  the 
world.  10 

.  Dau.  What  a  long  night  is  this !  I  will  not  change  my 
horse  with  any  that  treads  but  on  four  pasterns.  Ca,  ha !  he 
bounds  from  the  earth,  as  if  his  entrails  were  hairs ;  le  cheval 
volant,  the  Pegasus,  chez  les  narines  de  feu !  When  I  be- 
stride him,  I  soar,  I  am  a  hawk:  he  trots  the  air;  the  earth 
sings  when  he  touches  it ;  the  basest  horn  of  his  hoof  is  more 
musical  than  the  pipe  of  Hermes. 

Orl.  He 's  of  the  colour  of  the  nutmeg.  18 

Dau.  And  of  the  heat  of  the  ginger.  It  is  a  beast  for  Per- 
seus: he  is  pure  air  and  fire;  and  the  dull  elements  of  earth 
and  water  never  appear  in  him,  but  only  in  patient  stillness 
while  his  rider  mounts  him :  he  is  indeed  a  horse ;  and  all 
other  jades  you  may  call  beasts. 

Con.  Indeed,  my  lord,  it  is  a  most  absolute  and  excellent 
horse. 

Dau.  It  is  the  prince  of  palfreys ;  his  neigh  is  like  the  bid- 
ding of  a  monarch  and  his  countenance  enforces  homage. 

Orl.  No  more,  cousin.  28 

Dau.  Nay,  the  man  hath  no  wit  that  cannot,  from  the 
rising  of  the  lark  to  the  lodging  of  the  lamb,  vary  deserved 
praise  on  my  palfrey:  it  is  a  theme  as  fluent  as  the  sea:  turn 
the  sands  into  eloquent  tongues,  and  my  horse  is  argument 
for  them  all :  't  is  a  subject  for  a  sovereign  to  reason  on,  and 
for  a  sovereign's  sovereign  to  ride  on ;  and  for  the  world, 
familiar  to  us  and  unknown,  to  lay  apart  their  particular 
functions  and  wonder  at  him.  I  once  writ  a  sonnet  in  his 
praise  and  began  thus :  '  Wonder  of  nature,' — 


78  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

Or/.   I  have  heard  a  sonnet  begin  so  to  one's  mistress.     38 

Dau.  Then  did  they  imitate  that  which  I  composed  to  my 
courser,  for  my  horse  is  my  mistress. 

Orl.  Your  mistress  bears  well. 

Dau.  Me  well ;  which  is  the  prescript  praise  and  perfection 
of  a  good  and  particular  mistress. 

Con.  Nay,  for  methought  yesterday  your  mistress  shrewdly 
shook  your  back. 

Dau.  So  perhaps  did  yours. 

Con.   Mine  was  not  bridled. 

Dau.  O  then  belike  she  was  old  and  gentle;  and  you  rode, 
like  a  kern  of  Ireland,  your  French  hose  off,  and  in  your 
strait  strossers.  50 

Con.  You  have  good  judgement  in  horsemanship. 

Dau.  Be  warned  by  me,  then:  they  that  ride  so  and  ride 
not  warily,  fall  into  foul  bogs.  I  had  rather  have  my  horse 
to  my  mistress. 

Con.  I  had  as  lief  have  my  mistress  a  jade. 

Dau.  I  tell  thee,  constable,  my  mistress  wears  his  own, 
hair. 

Con.  I  could  make  as  true  a  boast  as  that,  if  I  had  a  sow 
to  my  mistress.  59 

Dau.  '  Le  chien  est  retourne"  a  son  propre  vomissement,  et 
la  truie  lavde  au  bourbier':  thou  makest  use  of  any  thing. 

Con.  Yet  do  I  not  use  my  horse  for  my  mistress,  or  any 
such  proverb  so  little  kin  to  the  purpose. 

Ram.  My  lord  constable,  the  armour  that  I  saw  in  your 
tent  to-night,  are  those  stars  or  suns  upon  it? 

Con.  Stars,  my  lord. 

Dau.  Some  of  them  will  fall  to-morrow,  I  hope. 

Con.  And  yet  my  sky  shall  not  want. 

Dau.  That  may  be,  for  you  bear  a  many  superfluously,  and 
't  were  more  honour  some  were  away.  70 

Con.  Even  as  your  horse  bears  your  praises ;  who  would 
trot  as  well,  were  some  of  your  brags  dismounted. 

Dau.  Would  I  were  able  to  load  him  with  his  desert !  Will 
it  never  be  day?  I  will  trot  to-morrow  a  mile,  and  my  way 
shall  be  paved  with  English  faces. 

Con.  I  will  not  say  so,  for  fear  I  should  be  faced  out  of  my 
way:  but  I  would  it  were  morning;  for  I  would  fain  be  about 
the  ears  of  the  English. 

Ram.  Who  will  go  to  hazard  with  me  for  twent> 
prisoners?  80 

Con.  You  must  first  go  yourself  to  hazard,  ere  you  have 
them. 


Scene  7.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  79 

Dau.  'T  is  midnight ;  I  '11  go  arm  myself.  {Exit. 

Orl.  The  Dauphin  longs  for  morning. 

Ram.  He  longs  to  eat  the  English. 

Con.  I  think  he  will  eat  all  he  kills. 

Orl'.  By  the  white  hand  of  my  lady,  he 's  a  gallant  prince. 

Con.  Swear  by  her  foot,  that  she  may  tread  out  the  oath. 

Orl.  He  is  simply  the  most  active  gentleman  of  France. 

Con.  Doing  is  activity;  and  he  will  still  be  doing.  90 

Orl.  He  never  did  harm,  that  I  heard  of. 

Con.  Nor  will  do  none  to-morrow:  he  will  keep  that  good 
lame  still. 

Orl.   I  know  him  to  be  valiant. 

(Son.  I  was  told  that  by  one  that  knows  him  better  than 
you. 

Orl.  What 'she? 

Con.  Marry,  he  told  me  so  himself;  and  he  said  he  cared 
not  who  knew  it. 

Orl.  He  needs  not ;  it  is  no  hidden  virtue  in  him.  100 

Con.  By  my  faith,  sir,  but  it  is;  never  any  body  saw  it  but 
his  lackey:  'tis  a  hooded  valour;  and  when  it  appears,  it  will 
bate. 

Orl.   Ill  will  never  said  well. 

Con.  I  will  cap  that  proverb  with-  'There  is  flattery  in 
friendship'. 

Orl.  And  I  will  take  up  that  with  '  Give  the  devil  his 
due'. 

Con.  Well  placed :  there  stands  your  friend  for  the  devil : 
have  at  the  very  eye  of  that  proverb  with  '  A  pox  of  the 
devil'.  1 1 1 

Orl.  You  are  the  better  at  proverbs,  by  how  much  '  A  fool's 
bolt  is  soon  shot'. 

Con.  You  have  shot  over. 

Orl.  'T  is  not  the  first  time  you  were  overshot. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord  high  constable,  the  English  lie  within  fifteen 
hundred  paces  of  your  tents. 

Con.  Who  hath  measured  the  ground? 

Mess.  The  Lord  Grandpre".  1 19 

Con.  A  valiant  and  most  expert  gentleman.  Would  it 
were  day!  Alas,  poor  Harry  of  England!  he  longs  not  for 
the  dawning  as  we  do. 

Orl.  What  a  wretched  and  peevish  fellow  is  this  king  of 
England,  to  mope  with  his  fat-brained  followers  so  far  out  of 
his  knowledge ! 


go  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

Con.  If  the  English  had  any  apprehension,  they  would  run 
away. 

Orl.  That  they  lack;  for  if  their  heads  had  any  intellectual 
armour,  they  could  never  wear  such  heavy  head-pieces.  129 

Ram.  That  island  of  England  breeds  very  valiant  crea- 
tures; their  mastiffs  are  of  unmatchable  courage. 

Orl.  Foolish  curs,  that  run  winking  into  the  mouth  of  a 
Russian  bear  and  have  their  heads  crushed  like  rotten  apples ! 
You  may  as  well  say,  that 's  a  valiant  flea  that  dare  eat  his 
breakfast  on  the  lip  of  a  lion. 

Con.  Just,  just ;  and  the  men  do  sympathize  with  the  mas- 
tiffs in  robustious  and  rough  coming  on,  leaving  their  wits 
with  their  wives:  and  then  give  them  great  meals  of  <4eef 
and  iron  and  steel,  they  will  eat  like  wolves  and  fight  like 
devils.  140 

Orl.  Ay,  but  these  English  are  shrewdly  out  of  beef. 

Con.  Then  shall  we  find  to-morrow  they  have  only  stomachs 
to  eat  and  none  to  fight.  Now  is  it  time  to  arm:  come,  shall 
we  about  it? 

Orl.  It  is  now  two  o'clock:  but,  let  me  see,  by  ten 
We  shall  have  each  a  hundred  Englishmen.  [Exeunt. 


ACT    IV. 

PROLOGUE. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Now  entertain  conjecture  of  a  time 
When  creeping  murmur  and  the  poring  dark 
Fills  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe. 
From  camp  to  camp  through  the  foul  womb  of  night 
The  hum  of  either  army  stilly  sounds, 
That  the  fix'd  sentinels  almost  receive 
The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch: 
Fire  answers  fire,  and  through  their  paly  flames 
Each  battle  sees  the  other's  umber'd  face ; 
Steed  threatens  steed,  in  high  and  boastful  neighs  ic 

Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear;  and  from  the  tents 
The  armourers,  accomplishing  the  knights, 
With  busy  hammers  closing  rivets  up, 
Give  dreadful  note  of  preparation: 
The  country  cocks  do  crow,  the  clocks  do  toll, 
And  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  name. 


Scene  x.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  81 

Proud  of  their  numbers  and  secure  in  soul, 

The  confident  and  over-lusty  French 

Do  the  low-rated  English  play  at  dice ; 

And  chide  the  cripple  tardy-gaited  night  20 

Who,  like  a  foul  and  ugly  witch,  doth  limp 

So  tediously  away.     The  poor  condemned  English 

Like  sacrifices,  by  their  watchful  fires 

Sit  patiently  and  inly  ruminate 

The  morning's  danger,  and  their  gesture  sad 

Investing  lank-lean  cheeks  and  war-worn  coats 

Presenteth  them  unto  the  gazing  moon 

So  many  horrid  ghosts.     O  now,  who  will  behold 

The  royal  captain  of  this  ruin'd  band 

Walking  from  watch  to  watch,  from  tent  to  tent,  30 

Let  him  cry  '  Praise  and  glory  on  his  head !' 

For  forth  he  goes  and  visits  all  his  host, 

Bids  them  good  morrow  with  a  modest  smile 

And  calls  them  brothers,  friends  and  countrymea 

Upon  his  royal  face  there  is  no  note 

How  dread  an  army  hath  enrounded  him; 

Nor  doth  he  dedicate  one  jot  of  colour 

Unto  the  weary  and  all- watched  night, 

But  freshly  looks  and  over-bears  attaint 

With  cheerful  semblance  and  sweet  majesty ;  40 

That  every  wretch,  pining  and  pale  before, 

Beholding  him,  plucks  comfort  from  his  looks : 

A  largess  universal  like  the  sun 

His  liberal  eye  doth  give  to  every  one, 

Thawing  cold  fear,  that  mean  and  gentle  all 

Behold,  as  may  unworthiness  define, 

A  little  touch  of  Harry  in  the  night. 

And  so  our  scene  must  to  the  battle  fly ; 

Where — O  for  pity ! — we  shall  much  disgrace 

With  four  or  five  most  vile  and  ragged  foils,  50 

Right  ill  disposed  in  brawl  ridiculous, 

The  name  of  Agincourt.     Yet  sit  and  see, 

Minding  true  things  by  what  their  mockeries  be.  \Exit. 

SCENE  I.     The  English  camp  at  Agincourt. 
Enter  KING  HENRY,  BEDFORD,  and  GLOUCESTER. 

K.  Hen.  Gloucester,  'tis  true  that  we  are  in  great  danger: 
The  greater  therefore  should  our  courage  be. 
Good  morrow,  brother  Bedford.     God  Almighty ! 


82  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil, 

Would  men  observing})'  distil  it  out. 

For  our  bad  neighbour  makes  us  early  stirrers, 

Which  is  both  healthful  and  good  husbandry : 

Besides  they  are  our  outward  consciences, 

And  preachers  to  us  all,  admonishing 

That  we  should  dress  us  fairly  for  our  end.  ir 

Thus  may  we  gather  honey  from  the  weed, 

And  make  a  moral  of  the  devil  himself. 

Enter  ERPINGHAM. 

Good  morrow,  old  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham : 
A  good  soft  pillow  for  that  good  white  head 
Were  better  than  a  churlish  turf  of  France. 

Erp.   Not  so,  my  liege:  this  lodging  likes  me  better, 
Since  I  may  say  '  Now  lie  I  like  a  king '. 

A*.  Hen.  'T  is  good  for  men  to  love  their  present  pains 
Upon  example  ;  so  the  spirit  is  eased : 

And  when  the  mind  is  quicken'd,  out  of  doubt,  20 

The  organs,  though  defunct  and  dead  before, 
Break  up  their  drowsy  grave  and  newly  move, 
With  casted  slough  and  fresh  legerity. 
Lend  me  thy  cloak,  Sir  Thomas.     Brothers  both, 
Commend  me  to  the  princes  in  our  camp ; 
Do  my  good  morrow  to  them,  and  anon 
Desire  them  all  to  my  pavilion. 

Gloit.  We  shall,  my  liege. 

Erp.  Shall  I  attend  your  grace ! 

K.  Hen.  No,  my  good  knight ; 

Go  with  my  brothers  to  my  lords  of  England :  30 

I  and  my  bosom  must  debate  a  while, 
And  then  I  would  no  other  company. 

Erp.  The  Lord  in  heaven  bless  thee,  noble  Harry! 

[Exeunt  all  but  King. 

K.  Hen.  God-a-mercy,  old  heart !  thou  speak'st  cheerfully. 

Enter  PISTOL. 
Pist.  Qui  va  Ik? 
K.  Hen.  A  friend. 

Pist.  Discuss  unto  me  ;  art  thou  officer? 
Or  art  thou  base,  common  and  popular? 
K.  Hen.   I  am  a  gentleman  of  a  company. 
Pist.  Trail'st  thou  the  puissant  pike? 
K.  Hen.  Even  so.     What  are  vou? 


Scene  i.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTfi.  83 

Pist.  As  good  a  gentleman  as  the  emperor. 

K.  Hen.  Then  you  are  a  better  than  the  king. 

Pist.  The  king 's  a  bawcock,  and  a  heart  of  gold, 
A  lad  of  life,  an  imp  of  fame ; 
Of  parents  good,  of  fist  most  valiant. 
I  kiss  his  dirty  shoe,  and  from  heart-string 
I  love  the  lovely  bully.     What  is  thy  name? 

K.  Hen.  Harry  le  Roy. 

Pist.  Le  Roy !  a  Cornish  name :  art  thou  of  Cornish  crew? 

K.  Hen.  No,  I  am  a  Welshman.  51 

Pist.  Know'st  thou  Fluellen? 

K.  Hen.  Yes. 

Pist.  Tell  him,  I  '11  knock  his  leek  about  his  pate 
Upon  Saint  Davy's  day. 

K.  Hen.  Do  not  you  wear  your  dagger  in  your  cap  that 
day,  lest  he  knock  that  about  ycurs. 

Pist.  Art  thou  his  friend? 

K.  Hen.  And  his  kinsman  too. 

Pist.  The  figo  for  thee,  then !  60 

K.  Hen.   I  thank  you :  God  be  with  you ! 

Pist,  My  name  is  Pistol  call'd.  \Exit. 

K.  Hen.  It  sorts  well  with  your  fierceness. 

Enter  FLUELLEN  and  GOWER. 

Gow.  Captain  Fluellen ! 

Flu.  So!  in  the  name  of  Jesu  Christ,  speak  lower.  It  is 
the  greatest  admiration  in  the  universal  world,  when  the  true 
and  aunchient  prerogatifes  and  laws  of  the  wars  is  not  kept : 
if  you  would  take  the  pains  but  to  examine  the  wars  of 
Pompey  the  Great,  you  shall  find,  I  warrant  you,  that  there 
is  no  tiddle  taddle  nor  pibble  pabble  in  Pompey's  camp; 
I  warrant  you,  you  shall  find  the  ceremonies  of  the  wars, 
and  the  cares  of  it,  and  the  forms  of  it,  and  the  sobriety  of 
it,  and  the  modesty  of  it,  to  be  otherwise.  73 

Gow.  Why,  the  enemy  is  loud ;  you  hear  him  all  night. 

Flu.  If  the  enemy  is  an  ass  and  a  fool  and  a  prating 
coxcomb,  is  it  meet,  think  you,  that  we  should  also,  look 
you,  be  an  ass  and  a  fool  and  a  prating  coxcomb?  in  your 
own  conscience,  now? 

Gow.  I  will  speak  lower. 

Flu.  I  pray  you  and  beseech  you  that  you  will. 

\Exeunt  Cower  and  Fluellen. 

K.  Hen.     Though  it  appear  a  little  out  of  fashion. 
There  is  much  care  and  valour  in  this  Welshman.  82 


84  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

Enter  three  soldiers,  JOHN  BATES,  ALEXANDER  COURT, 
and  MICHAEL  WILLIAMS. 

Court.  Brother  John  Bates,  is  not  that  the  morning  which 
breaks  yonder? 

Bates.  I  think  it  be:  but  we  have  no  great  cause  to  desire 
the  approach  of  day. 

Will.  We  see  yonder  the  beginning  of  the  day,  but  I  think 
we  shall  never  see  the  end  of  it.  Who  goes  there? 

K.  Hen.  A  friend. 

Will.  Under  what  captain  serve  you?  90 

K.  Hen.  Under  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham. 

Will.  A  good  old  commander  and  a  most  kind  gentleman : 
I  pray  you,  what  thinks  he  of  our  estate? 

K.  Hen.  Even  as  men  wrecked  upon  a  sand,  that  look  to 
be  washed  off  the  next  tide. 

Bates.   He  hath  not  told  his  thought  to  the  king? 

K.  Hen.  No;  nor  it  is  not  meet  he  should.  For,  though 
I  speak  it  to  you,  I  think  the  king  is  but  a  man,  as  1  am : 
the  violet  smells  to  him  as  it  doth  to  me ;  the  element  shows 
to  him  as  it  doth  to  me ;  all  his  senses  have  but  human  con- 
ditions :  his  ceremonies  laid  by,  in  his  nakedness  he  appears 
but  a  man ;  and  though  his  affections  are  higher  mounted 
than  ours,  yet,  when  they  stoop,  they  stoop  with  the  like 
wing.  Therefore  when  he  sees  reason  of  fears,  as  we  do, 
his  fears,  out  of  doubt,  be  of  the  same  relish  as  ours  are: 
yet,  in  reason,  no  man  should  possess  him  with  any  appear- 
ance of  fear,  lest  he,  by  showing  it,  should  dishearten  his 
army.  108 

Bates.  He  may  show  what  outward  courage  he  will ;  but  I 
believe,  as  cold  a  night  as  't  is,  he  could  wish  himself  in 
Thames  up  to  the  neck ;  and  so  I  would  he  were,  and  I  by 
him,  at  all  adventures,  so  we  were  quit  here. 

K.  Hen.  By  my  troth,  I  will  speak  my  conscience  of  the 
king :  I  think  he  would  not  wish  himself  any  where  but  where 
he  is. 

Bates.  Then  I  would  he  were  here  alone ;  so  should  he  be 
sure  to  be  ransomed,  and  a  many  poor  men's  lives  saved.  1 17 

A'.  Hen.  I  dare  say  you  love  him  not  so  ill,  to  wish  him 
here  alone,  howsoever  you  speak  this  to  feel  other  men's 
minds:  methinks  I  could  not  die  any  where  so  contented 
as  in  the  king's  company ;  his  cause  being  just  and  his 
quarrel  honourable. 

Will.  That 's  more  than  we  know. 

Bates.  Ay,  or  more  than  we  should  seek  after ;  for  we  know 


Scene  i.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  8$ 

enough,  if  we  know  we  are  the  king's  subjects :  if  his  cause 
be  wrong,  our  obedience  to  the  king  wipes  the  crime  of  it  out 
of  us.  1 27 

Will.  But  if  the  cause  be  not  good,  the  king  himself  hath 
a  heavy  reckoning  to  make,  when  all  those  legs  and  arms 
and  heads,  chopped  off  in  a  battle,  shall  join  together  at  the 
latter  day  and  cry  all  '  We  died  at  such  a  place ' ;  some 
swearing,  some  crying  for  a  surgeon,  some  upon  their  wives 
left  poor  behind  them,  some  upon  the  debts  they  owe,  some 
upon  their  children  rawly  left.  I  am  afeard  there  are  few  die 
well  that  die  in  a  battle ;  for  how  can  they  charitably  dispose 
of  any  thing,  when  blood  is  their  argument?  Now,  if  these 
men  do  not  die  well,  it  will  be  a  black  matter  for  the  king 
that  led  them  to  it :  whom  to  disobey  were  against  all  pro- 
portion of  subjection.  139 

K.  Hen.  So,  if  a  son  that  is  by  his  father  sent  about  mer- 
chandise do  sinfully  miscarry  upon  the  sea,  the  imputation  of 
his  wickedness,  by  your  rule,  should  be  imposed  upon  his 
father  that  sent  him :  or  if  a  servant,  under  his  master's  com- 
mand transporting  a  sum  of  money,  be  assailed  by  robbers 
and  die  in  many  irreconciled  iniquities,  you  may  call  the 
business  of  the  master  the  author  of  the  servant's  damnation: 
but  this  is  not  so :  the  king  is  not  bound  to  answer  the  par- 
ticular endings  of  his  soldiers,  the  father  of  his  son,  nor  the 
master  of  his  servant ;  for  they  purpose  not  their  death,  when 
they  purpose  their  services.  Besides,  there  is  no  king,  be  his 
cause  never  so  spotless,  if  it  come  to  the  arbitrement  of 
swords,  can  try  it  out  with  all  unspotted  soldiers :  some  per- 
adventure  have  on  them  the  guilt  of  premeditated  and  con- 
trived murder;  some,  of  beguiling  virgins  with  the  broken 
seals  of  perjury ;  some,  making  the  wars  their  bulwark,  that 
have  before  gored  the  gentle  bosom  of  peace  with  pillage  and 
robbery.  Now,  if  these  men  have  defeated  the  law  and  out- 
run native  punishment,  though  they  can  outstrip  men,  they 
have  no  wings  to  fly  from  God :  war  is  his  beadle,  war  is  his 
vengeance ;  so  that  here  men  are  punished  for  before-breach 
of  the  king's  laws  in  now  the  king's  quarrel :  where  they 
feared  the  death,  they  have  borne  life  away ;  and  where  they 
would  be  safe,  they  perish :  then  if  they  die  unprovided,  no 
more  is  the  king  guilty  of  their  damnation  than  he  was  before 
guilty  of  those  impieties  for  the  which  they  are  now  visited. 
Every  subject's  duty  is  the  king's ;  but  every  subject's  soul  is 
his  own.  Therefore  should  every  soldier  in  the  wars  do  as 
every  sick  man  in  his  bed,  wash  every  mote  out  of  his  con- 
science :  and  dying  so,  death  is  to  him  advantage ;  or  not 


86  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

dying,  the  time  was  blessedly  lost  wherein  such  preparation 
was  gained:  and  in  him  that  escapes,  it  were  not  sin  to  think 
that,  making  God  so  free  an  offer,  He  let  him  outlive  that 
day  to  see  His  greatness  and  to  teach  others  how  they  should 
prepare.  174 

Will.  'T  is  certain,  every  man  that  dies  ill,  the  ill  upon  his 
own  head,  the  king  is  not  to  answer  it. 

Bates.  I  do  not  desire  he  should  answer  for  me ;  and  yet  I 
determine  to  fight  lustily  for  him. 

A'.  Hen.  I  myself  heard  the  king  say  he  would  not  be 
ransomed. 

Will.  Ay,  he  said  so,  to  make  us  fight  cheerfully:  but 
when  our  throats  are  cut,  he  may  be  ransomed,  and  we  ne'er 
the  wiser.  183 

A".  Hen.  If  I  live  to  see  it,  I  will  never  trust  his  word  after. 

Will.  You  pay  him  then.  That 's  a  perilous  shot  out  of 
an  elder-gun,  that  a  poor  and  a  private  displeasure  can  do 
against  a  monarch !  you  may  as  well  go  about  to  turn  the 
sun  to  ice  with  fanning  in  his  face  with  a  peacock's  feather. 
You'll  never  trust  his  word  after!  come,  't  is  a  foolish  saying. 

A'.  Hen.  Your  reproof  is  something  too  round  :  I  should  be 
angry  with  you,  if  the  time  were  convenient.  191 

Will.  Let  it  be  a  quarrel  between  us,  if  you  live. 

K.  Hen.  I  embrace  it. 

Will.  How  shall  I  know  thee  again? 

A'.  Hen.  Give  me  any  gage  of  thine,  and  I  will  wear  it  in 
my  bonnet :  then,  if  ever  thou  darest  acknowledge  it,  I  will 
make  it  my  quarrel. 

Will.   Here 's  my  glove :  give  me  another  of  thine. 

K.  Hen.  There.  199 

Will.  This  will  I  also  wear  in  my  cap :  if  ever  thou  come 
to  me  and  say,  after  to-morrow,  'This  is  my  glove',  by  this 
hand,  I  will  take  thee  a  box  on  the  ear. 

K.  Hen.  If  ever  I  live  to  see  it,  I  will  challenge  it. 

Will.  Thou  darest  as  well  be  hanged. 

K.  Hen.  Well,  I  will  do  it,  though  I  take  thee  in  the  king's 
company. 

Will.  Keep  thy  word  :  fare  thee  well. 

Bates.  Be  friends,  you  English  fools,  be  friends :  we  have 
French  quarrels  enow,  if  you  could  tell  how  to  reckon.  209 

A'.  Hen.  Indeed,  the  French  may  lay  twenty  French  crowns 
to  one,  they  will  beat  us :  for  they  bear  them  on  their 
shoulders:  but  it  is  no  English  treason  to  cut  French 
crowns,  and  to-morrow  the  king  himself  will  be  a  clipper. 

[Exeunt  Soldiers. 


Scene  i.J  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  87 

Upon  the  king!  let  us  our  lives,  our  souls, 

Our  debts,  our  careful  wives, 

Our  children  and  our  sins  lay  on  the  king ! 

We  must  bear  all.     O  hard  condition, 

Twin-born  with  greatness,  subject  to  the  breath 

Of  every  fool,  whose  sense  no  more  can  feel 

But  his  own  wringing !     What  infinite  heart's-ease  220 

Must  kings  neglect,  that  private  men  enjoy! 

And  what  have  kings,  that  privates  have  not  too, 

Save  ceremony,  save  general  ceremony? 

And  what  art  thou,  thou  idol  ceremony? 

What  kind  of  god  art  thou,  that  suffer'st  more 

Of  mortal  griefs  than  do  thy  worshippers  ? 

What  are  thy  rents?  what  are  thy  comings  in? 

0  ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth ! 
What  is  thy  soul  of  adoration? 

Art  thou  aught  else  but  place,  degree  and  form,  230 

Creating  awe  and  fear  in  other  men? 

Wherein  thou  art  less  happy  being  fear'd 

Than  they  in  fearing. 

What  drink'st  thou  oft,  instead  of  homage  sweet, 

But  poison'd  flattery?     O,  be  sick,  great  greatness, 

And  bid  thy  ceremony  give  thee  cure ! 

Think'st  thou  the  fiery  fever  will  go  out 

With  titles  blown  from  adulation? 

Will  it  give  place  to  flexure  and  low  bending? 

Canst  thou,  when  thou  command'st  the  beggar's  knee,       240 

Command  the  health  of  it?     No,  thou  proud  dream, 

That  play'st  so  subtly  with  a  king's  repose ; 

1  am  a  king  that  find  thee,  and  I  know 

'T  is  not  the  balm,  the  sceptre  and  the  ball, 

The  sword,  the  mace,  the  crown  imperial, 

The  intertissued  robe  of  gold  and  pearl, 

The  farced  title  running  'fore  the  king, 

The  throne  he  sits  on,  nor  the  tide  of  pomp 

That  beats  upon  the  high  shore  of  this  world, 

No,  not  all  these,  thrice-gorgeous  ceremony,  250 

Not  all  these,  laid  in  bed  majestical, 

Can  sleep  so  soundly  as  the  wretched  slave, 

Who  with  a  body  fill'd  and  vacant  mind 

Gets  him  to  rest,  cramm'd  with  distressful  bread. 

Never  sees  horrid  night,  the  child  of  hell, 

But,  like  a  lackey,  from  the  rise  to  set 

Sweats  in  the  eye  of  Phoebus  and  all  night 

Sleeps  in  Elysium ;  next  day  after  dawn. 


88  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

Doth  rise  and  help  Hyperion  to  his  horse, 

And  follows  so  the  ever-running  year,  260 

With  profitable  labour,  to  his  grave : 

And,  but  for  ceremony,  such  a  wretch, 

Winding  up  days  with  toil  and  nights  with  sleep, 

Had  the  fore-hand  and  vantage  of  a  king. 

The  slave,  a  member  of  the  country's  peace, 

Enjoys  it ;  but  in  gross  brain  little  wots 

What  watch  the  king  keeps  to  maintain  the  peace, 

Whose  hours  the  peasant  best  advantages. 

Enter  ERPINGHAM. 

Erp.  My  lord,  your  nobles,  jealous  of  your  absence, 
Seek  through  your  camp  to  find  you. 

K.  Hen.  Good  old  knight,    270 

Collect  them  all  together  at  my  tent : 
I  '11  be  before  thee. 

Erp.  I  shall  do 't,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  O  God  of  battles !  steel  my  soldiers'  hearts  ; 
Possess  them  not  with  fear;  take  from  them  now 
The  sense  of  reckoning,  or  the  opposed  numbers 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them.     Not  to-day,  O  Lord, 
O,  not  to-day,  think  not  upon  the  fault 
My  father  made  in  compassing  the  crown ! 
1  Richard's  body  have  interred  new ; 

And  on  it  have  bestow'd  more  contrite  tears  280 

Than  from  it  issued  forced  drops  of  blood : 
Five  hundred  poor  I  have  in  yearly  pay, 
Who  twice  a-day  their  witherd  hands  hold  up 
Toward  heaven,  to  pardon  blood ;  and  I  have  built 
Two  chantries,  where  the  sad  and  solemn  priests 
Sing  still  for  Richard's  soul.     More  will  I  do : 
Though  all  that  I  can  do  is  nothing  worth, 
Since  that  my  penitence  comes  after  all, 
Imploring  pardon. 

Enter  GLOUCESTER. 

Clou.  My  liege!  290 

K.  Hen.  My  brother  Gloucester's  voice?  Ay; 

I  know  thy  errand,  I  will  go  with  thee: 

The  day,  my  friends  and  all  things  stay  for  me.         [Exeunt. 


Scene  a.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  89 

SCENE  II.     The  French  camp. 

Enter  the  DAUPHIN,  ORLEANS,  RAMBURES, 
and  others. 

Orl.  The  sun  doth  gild  our  armour ;  up,  my  lords ! 

Dau.  Montez  cheval !     My  horse!  varlet!  laquais!  ha! 

Orl.  O  brave  spirit ! 

Dau.  Via !  les  eaux  et  la  terre. 

Orl.  Rien  puis  ?  1'air  et  le  feu. 

Dau.  Ciel,  cousin  Orleans. 

Enter  CONSTABLE. 

Now,  my  lord  constable ! 

Con.  Hark,  how  our  steeds  for  present  service  neigh ! 

Dau.  Mount  them,  and  make  incision  in  their  hides, 
That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes,  10 

And  dout  them  with  superfluous  courage,  ha ! 

Ram.  What,  will  you  have  them  weep  our  horses'  blood? 
How  shall  we,  then,  behold  their  natural  tears? 

Enter  Messenger. 

Mess.  The  English  are  embattled,  you  French  peers. 

Con.  To  horse,  you  gallant  princes !  straight  to  horse ! 
Do  but  behold  yon  poor  and  starved  band, 
And  your  fair  show  shall  suck  away  their  souls, 
Leaving  them  but  the  shales  and  husks  of  men. 
There  is  not  work  enough  for  all  our  hands ; 
Scarce  blood  enough  in  all  their  sickly  veins  20 

To  give  each  naked  curtle-axe  a  stain, 
That  our  French  gallants  shall  to-day  draw  out, 
And  sheathe  for  lack  of  sport :  let  us  but  blow  on  them, 
The  vapour  of  our  valour  will  o'erturn  them. 
'T  is  positive  'gainst  all  exceptions,  lords, 
That  our  superfluous  lackeys  and  our  peasants, 
Who  in  unnecessary  action  swarm 
About  our  squares  of  battle,  were  enow 
To  purge  this  field  of  such  a  hilding  foe, 
Though  we  upon  this  mountain's  basis  by  30 

Took  stand  for  idle  speculation : 
But  that  our  honours  must  not.     What's  to  say? 
A  very  little  little  let  us  do, 
And  all  is  done.     Then  let  the  trumpets  sound 
The  tucket  sonance  and  the  note  to  mount ; 


90  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

For  our  approach  shall  so  much  dare  the  field 
That  England  shall  couch  down  in  fear  and  yield 

Enter  GRANDPRJ*. 

Grand.  Why  do  you  stay  so  long,  my  lords  of  lrr.  nee? 
Yon  island  carrions,  desperate  of  their  bones, 
111-favouredly  become  the  morning  field  :  40 

Their  ragged  curtains  poorly  are  let  loose, 
And  our  air  shakes  them  passing  scornfully : 
Big  Mars  seems  bankrupt  in  their  beggar5  d  host 
And  faintly  through  a  rusty  beaver  peeps : 
The  horsemen  sit  like  fixed  candlesticks, 
With  torch-staves  in  their  hand  ;  and  their  poor  jades 
Lob  down  their  heads,  dropping  the  hides  and  hips, 
The  gum  down-roping  from  their  pale-dead  eyes, 
And  in  their  pale  dull  mouths  the  gimmal  bit 
Lies  foul  with  chevv'd  grass,  still  and  motionless  ;  50 

And  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows, 
Fly  o'er  them,  all  impatient  for  their  hour. 
Description  cannot  suit  itself  in  words 
To  demonstrate  the  life  of  such  a  battle 
In  life  so  lifeless  as  it  shows  itself. 

Con.  They  have  said  their  prayers,  and  they  stay  for  death. 

Dau.  Shall  we  go  send  them  dinners  and  fresh  suits 
And  give  their  fasting  horses  provender, 
And  after  fight  with  them? 

Con.   I  stay  but  for  my  guard  :  on  to  the  field !  60 

I  will  the  banner  from  a  trumpet  take, 
And  use  it  for  my  haste.     Come,  come,  away! 
The  sun  is  high,  and  we  outwear  the  day. 

SCENE  III.     The  English  camp 
Enter  GLOUCESTER,  BEDFORD,  EXETER,  ERPINGHAM, 

with  all  his  host:  SALISBURY  and  WESTMORELAND. 

Glou.  Where  is  the  king? 

Bed.  The  king  himself  is  rode  to  view  their  battle. 

West.  Of  fighting  men  they  have  full  three  score  thousand. 

Ere.  There 's  five  to  one ;  besides,  they  all  are  fresh. 

Sal.  God's  arm  strike  with  us !  't  is  a  fearful  odds. 
God  bye  you,  princes  all ;  I  '11  to  my  charge : 
If  we  no  more  meet  till  we  meet  in  heaven, 
Then,  joyfully,  my  noble  Lord  of  Bedford, 
My  dear  Lord  Gloucester,  and  my  good  Lord  Exeter, 
And  my  kind  kinsman,  warriors  all,  adieu !  IO 


Scene  3J  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  91 

Bed.  Farewell,  good  Salisbury;    and  good  luck  go  with 

thee! 

Exe.  Farewell,  kind  lord ;  fight  valiantly  to-day : 
And  yet  I  do  thee  wrong  to  mind  thee  of  it, 
For  thou  art  framed  of  the  firm  truth  of  valour. 

{Exit  Salisburv, 

Bed.  He  is  as  full  of  valour  as  of  kindness  ; 
Princely  in  both. 

Enter  the  KING. 

West.  O  that  we  now  had  here 

But  one  ten  thousand  of  those  men  in  England 
That  do  no  work  to-day ! 

K.  Hen.  What's  he  that  wishes  so? 

My  cousin  Westmoreland?     No,  my  fair  cousin: 
If  we  are  mark'd  to  die,  we  are  enow  2O 

To  do  our  country  loss ;  and  if  to  live. 
The  fewer  men,  the  greater  share  of  honour. 
God's  will !   I  pray  thee,  wish  not  one  man  more. 
By  Jove,  I  am  not  covetous  for  gold, 
Nor  care  I  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost ; 
It  yearns  me  not  if  men  my  g'arments  wear ; 
Such  outward  things  dwell  not  in  my  desires : 
But  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  honour, 
I  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive.  ' 

No,  faith,  my  coz,  wish  not  a  man  from  England :  30 

God's  peace !  I  would  not  lose  so  great  an  honour 
As  one  man  more,  methinks,  would  share  from  me 
For  the  best  hope  I  have.     O,  do  not  wish  one  more  i 
Rather  proclaim  it,  Westmoreland,  through  my  host, 
That  he  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 
Let  him  depart ;  his  passport  shall  be  made 
And  crowns  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse : 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us. 

This  day  is  call'd  the  feast  of  Crispian  :  40 

He  that  outlives  this  day,  and  comes  safe  home, 
Will  stand  a  tip-toe  when  this  day  is  named, 
And  rouse  him  at  the  name  of  Crispian. 
He  that  shall  live  this  day,  and  see  old  age, 
Will  yearly  on  the  vigil  feast  his  neighbours, 
And  say  'To-morrow  is  Saint  Crispian': 
Then  will  he  strip  his  sleeve  and  show  his  scars, 
And  say  'These  wounds  I  had  on  Crispin's  day'. 
Old  men  forget ;  yet  all  shall  be  forgot, 


92  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

But  he'll  remember  with  advantages  50 

What  feats  he  did  that  day:  then  shall  our  names, 

Familiar  in  his  mouth  as  household  words, 

Harry  the  king,  Bedford  and  Exeter, 

Warwick  and  Talbot,  Salisbury  and  Gloucester, 

Be  in  their  flowing  cups  freshly  remember'd. 

This  story  shall  the  good  man  teach  his  son ; 

And  Crispin  Crispian  shall  ne'er  go  by, 

From  this  day  to  the  ending  of  the  world, 

But  we  in  it  shall  be  remembered ; 

We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers ;  60 

For  he  to-day  that  sheds  his  blood  with  me 

Shall  be  my  brother ;  be  he  ne'er  so  vile, 

This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition : 

And  gentlemen  in  England  now  a-bed 

Shall  think  themselves  accursed  they  were  not  here, 

And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap  whiles  any  speaks 

That  fought  with  us  upon  Saint  Crispin's  day. 

Re-enter  SALISBURY. 

Sal.   My  sovereign  lord,  bestow  yourself  with  speed- 
The  French  are  bravely  in  their"  battles  set, 
And  will  with  all  expedience  charge  on  us.  70 

K.  Hen.  All  things  are  ready,  if  our  minds  be  so. 

West.  Perish  the  man*whose  mind  is  backward  now! 

K.  Hen.  Thou  dost  not  wish  more  help  from  England, 
coz? 

West.  God's  will !  my  liege,  would  you  and  I  alone, 
Without  more  help,  could  fight  this  royal  battle ! 

K.  Hen.    Why,   now   thou   hast   unwish'd    five  thousand 

men; 

Which  likes  me  better  than  to  wish  us  one. 
You  know  your  places:  God  be  with  you  all ! 

Tucket.     Enter  MONTJOY. 

Mont.  Once  more  I  come  to  know  of  thee,  King  Harry, 
If  for  thy  ransom  thou  wilt  now  compound,  80 

Before  thy  most  assured  overthrow: 
For  certainly  thou  art  so  near  the  gulf, 
Thou  needs  must  be  englutted.     Besides,  in  mercy, 
The  constable  desires  thee  thou  wilt  mind 
Thy  followers  of  repentance ;  that  their  souls 
May  make  a  peaceful  and  a  sweet  retire 
From  off  these  fields,  where,  wretches,  their  poor  bodies 
Must  lie  and  fester. 


Scene  3.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  93 

K.  Hen.  Who  hath  sent  thee  now? 

Mont.  The  Constable  of  France. 

K.  Hen.  I  pray  thee,  bear  my  former  answer  back:         90 
Bid  them  achieve  me  and  then  sell  my  bones. 
Good  God!  why  should  they  mock  poor  fellows  thus? 
The  man  that  once  did  sell  the  lion's  skin 
While  the  beast  lived,  was  killed  with  hunting  him. 
A  many  of  our  bodies  shall  no  doubt 
Find  native  graves ;  upon  the  which,  I  trust, 
Shall  witness  live  in  brass  of  this  day's  work: 
And  those  that  leave  their  valiant  bones  in  France, 
Dying  like  men,  though  buried  in  your  dunghills, 
They  shall  be  famed ;  for  there  the  sun  shall  greet  them,  100 
And  draw  their  honours  reeking  up  to  heaven  ; 
Leaving  their  earthly  parts  to  choke  your  clime, 
The  smell  whereof  shall  breed  a  plague  in  France. 
Mark  then  abounding  valour  in  our  English, 
That  being  dead,  like  to  the  bullet's  grazing, 
Break  out  into  a  second  course  of  mischief, 
Killing  in  relapse  of  mortality. 
Let  me  speak  proudly:  tell  the  constable 
We  are  but  warriors  for  the  working-day; 
Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  are  all  besmirch  d  no 

With  rainy  marching  in  the  painful  field ; 
There 's  not  a  piece  of  feather  in  our  host — 
Good  argument,  I  hope,  we  will  not  fly — 
And  time  hath  worn  us  into  slovenry : 
But,  by  the  mass,  our  heart'-  are  in  the  trim ; 
And  my  poor  soldiers  tell  rne,  yet  ere  night 
They  '11  be  in  fresher  robes,  or  they  will  pluck 
The  gay  new  coats  o'er  the  French  soldiers'  heads 
And  turn  them  out  of  service.     If  they  do  this, — 
As,  if  God  please,  they  shall, — my  ransom  then  120 

Will  soon  be  levied.     Herald,  save  thou  thy  labour; 
Come  thou  no  more  for  ransom,  gentle  herald : 
They  shall  have  none,  I  swear,  but  these  my  joints ; 
Which  if  they  have  as  I  will  leave  'em  them, 
Shall  yield  them  little,  tell  the  constable. 

Mont.  I  shall,  King  Harry.     And  so  fare  thee  well  : 

"lou  never  shalt  hear  herald  any  more.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  I  fear  thou  'It  once  more  come  again  for  ransom. 

Enter  YORK. 

York.  My  lord,  most  humbly  on  my  knee  I  beg 
ie  leading  of  the  va ward.  130 


94  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

K.  Hen.  Take    it,   brave    York.       Now,   soldiers,   march 

away : 
And  how  thou  pleasest,  God,  dispose  the  day !  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     The  field  of  battle. 

Alarum.     Excursions.     Enter  PISTOL,  French  Soldier, 
and  Boy. 

Pis/.  Yield,  cur! 

Fr.  Sol.  Je  pense  que  vous  etes  gentilhomme  de  bonne 
qualite". 

Pist.  Qualtitie  calmie custure  me!     Art  thou  a  gentleman? 
what  is  thy  name?  discuss. 

Fr.  Sol.  O  Seigneur  Dieu ! 

Pist.  O,  Signieur  Dew  should  be  a  gentleman : 
Perpend  my  words,  O  Signieur  Dew,  and  mark ; 
O  Signieur  Dew,  thou  diest  on  point  of  fox, 
Except,  O  signieur,  thou  do  give  to  me  10 

Egregious  ransom. 

Fr.  Sol.  O,  prenez  misericorde !  ayez  piti£  de  moi ! 

Pist.   Moy  shall  not  serve;  I  will  have  forty  moys; 
Or  1  will  fetch  thy  rim  out  at  thy  throat 
In  drops  of  crimson  blood. 

Fr.  Sol.    Est-il    impossible   d'e'chapper    la   force   de   ton 
bras? 

Pist.   Brass,  cur! 

Thou  damned  and  luxurious  mountain  goat, 
Offer'st  me  brass? 

Fr.  Sol.  O  pardonnez  moi ! 

Pist.  Say'st  thou  me  so?  is  that  a  ton  of  moys? 
Come  hither,  boy :  ask  me  this  slave  in  French 
What  is  his  name. 

Boy.  Ecoutez:  comment  etes-vous  appele"? 

Fr.  Sol.  Monsieur  le  Fer. 

Boy.  He  says  his  name  is  Master  Fer. 

Pist.  Master  Fer!    I'll  fer  him,  and  firk  him,  and  fei 
him :  discuss  the  same  in  French  unto  him. 

Boy.  I  do  not  know  the  French  for  fer,  and  ferret, 
firk.  3< 

Pist.  Bid  him  prepare ;  for  I  will  cut  his  throat. 

Fr.  Sol.  Que  dit-il,  monsieur? 

Boy.  II  me  commande  de  vous  dire  que  vous  faites  voi 
pret;  car  ce  soldat  ici  est  disposd  tout  a  cette  heure  de  couj 
votre  gorge 


Scenes-]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  95 

Pist.  Owy,  cuppele  gorge,  permafoy, 
Peasant,  unless  thou  give  me  crowns,  brave  crowns ; 
Or  mangled  shalt  thou  be  by  this  my  sword.  39 

Fr.  Sol.  O,  je  vous  supplie,  pour  1'  amour  de  Dieu,  me 
pardonner!  Je  suis  gentilhomme  de  bonne  maison:  gardez 
ma  vie,  et  je  vous  donnerai  deux  cents  e"cus. 

Pist.  What  are  his  words? 

Boy.  He  prays  you  to  save  his  life :  he  is  a  gentleman  of  a 
good  house;  and  for  his  ransom  he  will  give  you  two  hundred 
crowns. 

Pist.  Tell  him  my  fury  shall  abate,  and  I 
The  crowns  will  take. 

Fr.  Sol.  Petit  monsieur,  que  dit-il?  49 

Boy.  Encore  qu'il  est  contre  son  jurement  de  pardonner 
aucun  prisonnier,  ne"anmoins,  pour  les  e"cus  que  vous  1'avez 
promis,  il  est  content  de  vous  donner  la  liberte",  le  franchise- 
ment. 

Fr.  Sol.  Sur  mes  genoux  je  vous  donne  mille  remercimens ; 
et  je  m'estime  heureux  que  je  suis  tombe"  entre  les  mains  d'un 
chevalier,  je  pense,  le  plus  brave,  vaillant,  et  tres  distingue1 
seigneur  d'Angleterre. 

Pist.  Expound  unto  me,  boy.  58 

Boy.  He  gives  you,  upon  his  knees,  a  thousand  thanks ; 
and  he  esteems  himself  happy  that  he  hath  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  one,  as  he  thinks,  the  most  brave,  valorous,  and 
thrice-worthy  signieur  of  England.  64 

Pist.  As  I  suck  blood,  I  will  some  mercy  show. 
Follow  me ! 

Boy.  Suivez-vous  le  grand  capitaine.  [Exeunt  Pistol  and 
French  Soldier.]  I  did  never  know  so  full  a  voice  issue  from 
so  empty  a  heart :  but  the  saying  is  true,  '  The  empty  vessel 
makes  the  greatest  sound'.  Bardolph  and  Nym  had  ten 
times  more  valour  than  this  roaring  devil  i'  the  old  play,  that 
everyone  may  pare  his  nails  with  a  wooden  dagger;  and  they 
are  both  hanged ;  and  so  would  this  be,  if  he  durst  steal  any 
thing  adventurously.  I  must  stay  with  the  lackeys,  with  the 
luggage  of  our  camp :  the  French  might  have  a  good  prey  ot 
us,  if  he  knew  of  it ;  for  there  is  none  to  guard  it  but  boys. 

[Exit. 
SCENE  V.     Another  part  of  the  field. 

Enter  CONSTABLE,  ORLEANS,  BOURBON,  DAUPHIN, 

and  RAMBURES. 
Con.  O  diable ! 
Orl.  O  seigneur !  le  jour  est  perd.u,  tout  est  perdu ! 


96  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

Dau.  Mort  de  ma  vie!  all  is  confounded,  all ! 
Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 
Sits  mocking  in  our  plumes.     O  mechanic  fortune! 
Do  not  run  away.  [A  short  alarum. 

Con.  Why,  all  our  ranks  are  broke. 

Dau.  O  perdurable  shame  !  let 's  stab  ourselves. 
Be  these  the  wretches  that  we  play'd  at  dice  for? 

Orl.  Is  this  the  king  we  sent  to  for  his  ransom? 

Bour.  Shame  and  eternal  shame,  nothing  but  shame  .      10 
Let  us  die  in  honour:  once  more  back  again  ; 
And  he  that  will  not  follow  Bourbon  now, 
Let  him  go  hence,  and  with  his  cap  in  hand, 
Like  a  base  pandar,  hold  the  chamber-door 
Whilst  by  a  slave,  no  gentler  than  my  dog, 
His  fairest  daughter  is  contaminate. 

Con.  Disorder,  that  hath  spoil'd  us,  friend  us  now  1 
Let  us  on  heaps  go  offer  up  our  lives. 

Orl.  We  are  enow  yet  living  in  the  field 

To  smother  up  the  English  in  our  throngs,  20 

If  any  order  might  be  thought  upon. 

Bour.  The  devil  take  order  now !  I  '11  to  the  throng : 
Let  life  be  short ;  else  shame  will  be  too  long.  \Eveunt. 

SCENE  VI.     Another  part  of  the  field. 

Alarums.     Enter  KING  HENRY  and  forces,  EXETER, 
and  others. 

K.  Hen.  Well  have  we  done,  thrice  valiant  country-men: 
But  all 's  not  done ;  yet  keep  the  French  the  field. 

Exe.  The  Duke  of  York  commends  him  to  your  majesty 

K.  Hen.  Lives  he,  good  uncle?  thrice  within  this  hour 
I  saw  him  down;  thrice  up  again,  and  fighting; 
From  helmet  to  the  spur  all  blood  he  was. 

Exe.  In  which  array,  brave  soldier,  doth  he  lie 
Larding  the  plain  ;  and  by  his  bloody  side, 
Yoke-fellow  to  his  honour-owing  wounds, 
The  noble  Earl  of  Suffolk  also  lies. 
Suffolk  first  died :  and  York,  all  haggled  over, 
Comes  to  him,  where  in  gore  he  lay  insteep'd, 
And  takes  him  by  the  beard;  kisses  the  gashes 
That  bloodily  did  yawn  upon  his  face ; 
And  cries  aloud  '  Tarn-,  dear  cousin  Suffolk ! 
My  soul  shall  thine  keep  company  to  heaven; 
Tarry,  sweet  soul,  for  mine,  then  fly  abreast, 


Scene  7.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  97 

As  in  this  glorious  and  well-foughten  field 

We  kept  together  in  our  chivalry!' 

Upon  these  words  I  came  and  cheer'd  him  up:  30 

He  smiled  me  in  the  face,  raught  me  his  hand, 

And,  with  a  feeble  gripe,  says  '  Dear  my  lord, 

Commend  my  service  to  my  sovereign'. 

So  did  he  turn  and  over  Suffolk's  neck 

He  threw  his  wounded  arm  and  kiss'd  his  lips ; 

And  so  espoused  to  death,  with  blood  he  seal'd 

A  testament  of  noble-ending  love. 

The  pretty  and  sweet  manner  of  it  forced 

Those  waters  from  me  which  I  would  have  stopp'd, 

But  I  had  not  so  much  of  man  in  me,  30 

And  all  my  mother  came  into  mine  eyes 

And  gave  me  up  to  tears. 

K.  Hen.  I  blame  you  not ; 

For,  hearing  this,  I  must  perforce  compound 
With  mistful  eyes,  or  they  will  issue  too.  [A/arum. 

But,  hark!  what  new  alarum  is  this  same? 
The  French  have  reinforced  their  scattered  men 
Then  every  soldier  kill  his  prisoners ; 
Give  the  word  through.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII.     Another  part  of  the  field. 
Enter  FLUELLEN  and  GOWER. 

Flu.  Kill  the  poys  and  the  luggage !  't  is  expressly  against 
the  law  of  arms :  't  is  as  arrant  a  piece  of  knavery,  mark  you 
now,  as  can  be  offe^t ;  in  your  conscience,  now,  is  it  not? 

Gow.  'T  is  certain  there 's  not  a  boy  left  alive ;  and  the 
cowardly  rascals  that  ran  from  the  battle  ha'  done  this 
slaughter:  besides,  they  have  burned  and  carried  away  all 
that  was  in  the  king's  tent ;  wherefore  the  king,  most  worthily, 
hath  caused  every  soldier  to  cut  his  prisoner's  throat.  O, 
't  is  a  gallant  king !  9 

Flu.  Ay,  he  was  porn  at  Monmouth,  Captain  Gower. 
What  call  you  the  town's  name  where  Alexander  the  Pig 
was  born? 

Gow.  Alexander  the  Great. 

Flu.  Why,  I  pray  you,  is  not  pig  great?  the  pig,  or  the 
great,  or  the  mighty,  or  the  huge,  or  the  magnanimous,  are 
all  one  reckonings,  save  the  phrase  is  a  little  variations. 

Gow.  I  think  Alexander  the  Great  was  born  in  Macedon : 
his  father  was  called  Philip  of  Macedon,  as  I  take  it.  18 

(urn)  a 


98  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

Flu.  \  think  it  is  in  Macedon  where  Alexander  is  pom. 
1  tell  you,  captain,  if  you  look  in  the  maps  of  the  'orld,  I 
warrant  you  sail  find,  in  the  comparisons  between  Macedon 
and  Monmouth,  that  the  situations,  look  you,  is  both  alike. 
There  is  a  river  in  Macedon ;  and  there  is  also  moreover  a 
river  at  Monmouth :  it  is  called  Wye  at  Monmouth :  but  it 
is  out  of  my  prains  what  is  the  name  of  the  other  river;  but 
"t  is  all  one,  't  is  alike  as  my  fingers  is  to  my  fingers,  and 
there  is  salmons  in  both.  If  you  mark  Alexander's  life 
well,  Harry  of  Monmouth's  life  is  come  after  it  indifferent 
well ;  for  there  is  figures  in  all  things.  Alexander,  God 
knows,  and  you  know,  in  his  rages,  and  his  furies,  and  his 
wraths,  and  his  cholers,  and  his  moods,  and  his  displeasures, 
and  his  indignations,  and  also  being  a  little  intoxicates  in  his 
prains,  did,  in  his  ales  and  his  angers,  look  you,  kill  his 
best  friend,  Cleitus.  34 

Gow.  Our  king  is  not  like  him  in  that :  he  never  killed 
any  of  his  friends. 

Flu.  It  is  not  well  done,  mark  you  now,  to  take  the  tales 
out  of  my  mouth,  ere  it  is  made  and  finished.  I  speak  but 
in  the  figures  and  comparisons  of  it :  as  Alexander  killed  his 
friend  Cleitus,  being  in  his  ales  and  his  cups  ;  so  also  Harry 
Monmouth,  being  in  his  right  wits  and  his  good  judgements, 
turned  away  the  fat  knight  with  the  great-belly  doublet: 
he  was  full  of  jests,  and  gipes,  and  knaveries,  and  mocks; 
I  have  forgot  his  name.  44 

Gow.  Sir  John  Falstafif. 

Flu.  That  is  he :  I  '11  tell  you  there  is  good  men  porn  at 
Monmouth. 

Gow.  Here  comes  his  majesty. 

Alarum.     Enter  KING  HENRY,  and  forces;  WARWICK, 
GLOUCESTER,  EXETER,  and  others. 

K.  Hen.  I  was  not  angry  since  I  came  to  France 
Until  this  instant.     Take  a  trumpet,  herald ;  5° 

Ride  thou  unto  the  horsemen  on  yon  hill : 
If  they  will  fight  with  us,  bid  them  come  down, 
Or  void  the  field  ;  they  do  offend  our  sight : 
If  they'll  do  neither,  we  will  come  to  them. 
And  make  them  skirr  away,  as  swift  as  stones 
Enforced  from  the  old  Assyrian  slings : 
Resides,  we  '11  cut  the  throats  of  those  we  have, 
And  not  a  man  of  them  that  we  shall  take 
Shall  taste  our  mercv.     Go  and  tell  them  so. 


Scene  7.]  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  99 

Enter  MONTJOY. 

Exe.  Here  comes  the  herald  of  the  French,  my  liege.      60 

Glo.  His  eyes  are  humbler  than  they  used  tp  be. 

K.  Hen.  How  now!  what  means  this,  herald?  know'st  thou 

not 

That  I  have  fined  these  bones  of  mine  for  ransom? 
Comest  thou  again  for  ransom? 

Mont.  No,  great  king: 

I  come  to  thee  for  charitable  license, 
That  we  may  wander  o'er  this  bloody  field 
To  book  our  dead,  and  then  to  bury  them ; 
To  sort  our  nobles  from  our  common  men. 
For  many  of  our  princes — woe  the  while ! — 
Lie  drown'd  and  soak'd  in  mercenary  blood ;  70 

So  do  our  vulgar  drench  their  peasant  limbs 
In  blood  of  princes  ;  and  their  wounded  steeds 
Fret  fetlock  deep  in  gore  and  with  wild  rage 
Yerk  out  their  armed  heels  at  their  dead  masters, 
Killing  them  twice.     O,  give  us  leave,  great  king, 
To  view  the  field  in  safety  and  dispose 
Of  their  dead  bodies ! 

K.  Hen.  I  tell  thee  truly,  herald, 

I  know  not  if  the  day  be  ours  or  no ; 
For  yet  a  many  of  your  horsemen  peer 
And  gallop  o'er  the  field. 

Mont.  The  day  is  yours.  80 

K.  Hen.  Praised  be  God,  and  not  our  strength,  for  it ! 
What  is  this  castle  call'd  that  stands  hard  by? 

Mont.  They  call  it  Agincourt. 

K.  Hen.  Then  call  we  this  the  field  of  Agincourt, 
Fought  on  the  day  of  Crispin  Crispianus. 

Flu.  Your  grandfather  of  famous  memory,  an't  piease 
your  majesty,  and  your  great-uncle  Edward  the  Plack  Prince 
of  Wales,  as  I  have  read  in  the  chronicles,  fought  a  most 
prave  pattle  here  in  France. 

K.  Hen.  They  did,  Fluellen.  90 

Flu.  Your  majesty  says  very  true:  if  your  majesties  is 
remembered  of  it,  the  Welshmen  did  good  service  in  a 
garden  where  leeks  did  grow,  wearing  leeks  in  their  Mon- 
mouth  caps ;  which,  your  majesty  know,  to  this  hour  is  an 
honourable  badge  of  the  service ;  and  I  do  believe  your 
majesty  takes  no  scorn  to  wear  the  leek  upon  Saint  Tavy's 
day. 

K.  Hen.  I  wear  it  for  a  memorable  honour 


loo  KING    HKNRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

For  I  am  Welsh,  you  know,  good  country-man.  99 

Flu.  All  the  water  in  Wye  cannot  wash  your  majesty's 
Welsh  plood  out  of  your  pody,  I  can  tell  you  that :  God 
pless  it  and  preserve  it,  as  long  as  it  pleases  his  grace,  and 
his  majesty  too ! 

A'.  Hen.  Thanks,  good  my  countryman. 

I-'lu.  Hy  Jeshu,  I  am  your  majesty's  countryman,  I  care 
not  who  know  it ;  I  will  confess  it  to  all  the  'orld:  I  need  not 
to  be  ashamed  of  your  majesty,  praised  be  God,  so  long  as 
your  majesty  is  an  honest  man. 

K.  Hen.  God  keep  me  so !  Our  heralds  go  with  him : 
Bring  me  just  notice  of  the  numbers  dead  1 10 

On  both  our  parts.     Call  yonder  fellow  hither. 

[Points  to  Williams.     Exeunt  Heralds  with  Mont  joy. 

Exe.  Soldier,  you  must  come  to  the  king. 

K.  Hen.  Soldier,  why  wearest  thou  that  glove  in  thy  cap? 

Will.  An  't  please  your  majesty,  't  is  the  gage  of  one  that 
!  should  fight  withal,  if  he  be  alive. 

K.  Hen.  An  Englishman? 

Will.  An  't  please  your  majesty,  a  rascal  that  swaggered 
with  me  last  night ;  who,  if  alive  and  ever  dare  to  challenge 
this  glove,  I  have  sworn  to  take  him  a  box  o'  th'  ear:  or  if  I 
can  see  my  glove  in  his  cap,  which  he  swore,  as  he  was  a 
soldier,  he  would  wear  if  alive,  I  will  strike  it  out  soundly. 

K.  Hen.  What  think  you,  Captain  Fluellen?  is  it  fit  this 
soldier  keep  his  oath?  123 

Flu.  He  is  a  craven  and  a  villain  else,  an't  please  your 
majesty,  in  my  conscience. 

K.  Hen.  it  may  be  his  enemy  is  a  gentleman  of  great  sort, 
quite  from  the  answer  of  his  degree. 

Flu.  Though  he  be  as  good  a  gentleman  as  the  devil  is, 
as  Lucifer  and  Belzebub  himself,  it  is  necessary,  look  your 
grace,  that  he  keep  his  vow  and  his  oath :  if  he  be  perjured, 
see  you  now,  his  reputation  is  as  arrant  a  villain  and  a  Jack- 
sauce,  as  ever  his  black  shoe  trod  upon  God's  ground  and 
his  earth,  in  my  conscience,  la!  133 

K.  Hen.  Then  keep  thy  vow,  sirrah,  when  thou  meetest 
the  fellow. 

Will.  So  I  will,  my  liege,  as  I  live. 

K.  Hen.  Who  servest  thou  under? 

Will.  Under  Captain  Gower,  my  liege. 

Flu.  Gower  is  a  good  captain,  and  is  good  knowledge  and 
literatured  in  the  wars. 

A'.  Hen.  Call  him  hither  to  me,  soldier. 

Will.   I  will,  my  liege.  \Exit.     142 


Scenes.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  101 

K.  Hen.  Here,  Fluellen ;  wear  thou  this  favour  for  me  and 
stick  it  in  thy  cap :  when  Alen^on  and  myself  were  down 
together,  I  plucked  this  glove  from  his  helm :  if  any  man 
challenge  this,  he  is  a  friend  to  Alenc.cn,  and  an  enemy  to 
our  person ;  if  thou  encounter  any  such,  apprehend  him,  an 
thou  dost  me  love. 

Flu.  Your  grace  doo's  me  as  great  honours  as  can  be 
desired  in  the  hearts  of  his  subjects :  I  would  fain  see  the 
man,  that  has  but  two  legs,  that  shall  find  himself  aggriefed 
at  this  glove ;  that  is  all ;  but  I  would  fain  see  it  once,  an 
please  God  of  his  grace  that  I  might  see.  153 

K.  Hen.  Knowest  thou  Gower? 

Flu.  He  is  my  dear  friend,  an  please  you. 

K.  Hen.  Pray  thee,  go  seek  him,  and  bring  him  to  my 
tent. 

Flu.  I  will  fetch  him.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  My  Lord  of  Warwick,  and  my  brother  Gloucester, 
Follow  Fluellen  closely  at  the  heels :  160 

The  glove  which  I  have  given  him  for  a  favour 
May  haply  purchase  him  a  box  o'  th'  ear ; 
It  is  the  soldier's;  I  by  bargain  should 
Wear  it  myself.     Follow,  good  cousin  Warwick : 
If  that  the  soldier  strike  him,  as  I  judge 
By  his  blunt  bearing  he  will  keep  his  word, 
Some  sudden  mischief  may  arise  of  it ; 
For  I  do  know  Fluellen  valiant 
And,  touched  with  choler,  hot  as  gunpowder, 
And  quickly  will  return  an  injury:  170 

Follow,  and  see  there  be  no  harm  between  them. 
Go  you  with  me.  uncle  of  Exeter.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  VIII.    Before  KING  HENRY'S  pavilion. 

Enter  GOWER  and  WILLIAMS. 
Will.  I  warrant  it  is  to  knight  you,  captain. 

Enter  FLUELLEN. 

Flu.  God's  will  and  his  pleasure,  captain,  I  beseech  you 
now,  come  apace  to  the  king :  there  is  more  good  toward 
you  peradventure  than  is  in  your  knowledge  to -dream  of. 

Will.  Sir,  know  you  this  glove? 

Flu.  Know  the  glove !     I  know  the  glove  is  a  glove ! 

Will.  I  know  this ;  and  thus  I  challenge  it.     [Strikes  him. 

Flu.  'Sblood !  an  arrant  traitor  as  any  is  in  the  universal 
world,  or  in  France,  or  in  England ! 


102  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 


How  now,  sir!  you  villain  !  10 

Will.  Do  you  think  I  '11  be  forsworn? 

flu.  Stand  away,  Captain  Gower;  I  will  give  treason  his 
payment  into  plows,  I  warrant  you. 

Will.  I  am  no  traitor. 

/"///.  That  's  a  lie  in  thy  throat.  I  charge  you  in  his 
majesty's  name,  apprehend  him:  he's  a  friend  of  the  Duke 
Alenc,on's. 

Enter  WARWICK  and  GLOUCESTER. 

War.   How  now,  how  now  !  what's  the  matter? 

Flu.  My  Lord  of  Warwick,  here  is  —  praised  be  God  for 
it  !  —  a  most  contagious  treason  come  to  light,  look  you,  as 
you  shall  desire  in  a  summer's  day.  Here  is  his  majesty.  21 

Enter  KING  HENRY  and  EXETER. 

A".  Hen.   How  now!  what's  the  matter? 

Flu.  My  liege,  here  is  a  villain  and  a  traitor,  that,  look 
your  grace,  has  struck  the  glove  which  your  majesty  is  take 
out  of  the  helmet  of  Alen^on. 

Will.  My  liege,  this  was  my  glove  ;  here  is  the  fellow  of  it  ; 
and  he  that  I  gave  it  to  in  change  promised  to  wear  it  in  his 
cap  ;  I  promised  to  strike  him,  if  he  did  :  I  met  this  man 
with  my  glove  in  his  cap,  and  I  have  been  as  good  as  my 
word.  30 

Flu.  Your  majesty  hear  now,  saving  your  majesty's  man- 
hood, what  an  arrant,  rascally,  beggarly,  lousy  knave  it  is  : 
I  hope  your  majesty  is  pear  me  testimony  and  witness,  and 
will  avouchment,  that  this  is  the  glove  of  Alen^on,  that  your 
majesty  is  give  me  ;  in  your  conscience,  now. 

K.  Hen.  Give  me  thy  glove,  soldier:  look,  here  is  the 
fellow  of  it. 

'Twas  I,  indeed,  t.hou  promised'st  to  strike; 
And  thou  hast  given  me  most  bitter  terms. 

Flu.  And  please  your  majesty,  let  his  neck  answer  for  it, 
if  there  is  any  martial  law  in  the  world.  41 

A'.  Hen.   How  canst  thou  make  me  satisfaction? 

Will.  All  offences,  my  lord,  come  from  the  heart  :  never 
came  any  from  mine  that  might  offend  your  majesty. 

A'.  Hen.   It  was  ourself  thou  didst  abuse. 

Will.  Your  majesty  came  not  like  yourself:  you  appeared 
to  me  but  as  a  common  man  ;  witness  the  night,  your  gar- 
ments, your  lowliness  ;  and  what  your  highness  suffered 
under  that  shape,  I  beseech  you  take  it  for  your  own  fault 


Scene  8.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  103 

and  not  mine :  for  had  you  been  as  I  took  you  for,  I  made 
no  offence ;  therefore,  I  beseech  your  highness,  pardon  me. 

K.  Hen.   Here,  uncle  Exeter,  fill  this  glove  with  crowns, 
And  give  it  to  this  fellow.     Keep  it,  fellow ;  53 

And  wear  it  for  an  honour  in  thy  cap 
Till  I  do  challenge  it.     Give  him  the  crowns : 
And,  captain,  you  must  needs  be  friends  with  him. 

Flu.  By  this  day  and  this  light,  the  fellow  has  mettle 
enough  in  his  belly.  Hold,  there  is  twelve  pence  for  you; 
and  1  pray  you  to  serve  God,  and  keep  you  out  of  prawls, 
and  prabbles,  and  quarrels,  and  dissensions,  and,  I  warrant 
you,  it  is  the  better  for  you.  61 

Will.  I  will  none  of  your  money. 

Flu.  It  is  with  a  good  will ;  I  can  tell  you,  it  will  serve  you 
to  mend  your  shoes :  come,  wherefore  should  you  be  so  pash- 
ful?  your  shoes  is  not  so  good:  'tis  a  good  silling,  I  warrant 
you,  or  I  will  change  it. 

Enter  an  English  Herald. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  herald,  are  the  dead  number'd? 

Her.  Here  is  the  number  of  the  slaughter^  French. 

K.  Hen.  What  prisoners  of  good  sort  are  taken,  uncle  ? 

Exe.  Charles  Duke  of  Orleans,  nephew  to  the  king;        70 
John  Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  Lord  Bouciqualt : 
Of  other  lords  and  barons,  knights  and  squires, 
Full  fifteen  hundred,  besides  common  men. 

K.  Hen.  This  note  doth  tell  me  of  ten  thousand  French 
That  in  the  field  lie  slain :  of  princes,  in  this  number, 
And  nobles  bearing  banners,  there  lie  dead 
One  hundred  twenty  six :  added  to  these, 
Of  knights,  esquires,  and  gallant  gentlemen, 
Eight  thousand  and  four  hundred ;  of  the  which, 
Five  hundred  were  but  yesterday  dubb'd  knights :  $o 

So  that,  in  these  ten  thousand  they  have  lost, 
There  are  but  sixteen  hundred  mercenaries ; 
The  rest  are  princes,  barons,  lords,  knights,  squires, 
And  gentlemen  of  blood  and  quality. 
The  names  of  those  their  nobles  that  lie  dead : 
Charles  Delabreth,  high  constable  of  France ; 
Jacques  of  Chatillon,  admiral  of  France ; 
The  master  of  the  cross-bows,  Lord  Rambures ; 
Great  Master  of  France,  the  brave  Sir  Guichard  Dolphin, 
John  Duke  of  Alengon,  Anthony  Duke  of  Brabant,  90 

The  brother  to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 


104 


KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH. 


[Act  V. 


And  Edward  Duke  of  Bar:  of  lusty  earls, 
Grandpre"  and  Roussi,  Fauconberg  and  Koix, 
Beaumont  and  Marie,  Vaudemont  and  Lestrale. 
Here  was  a  royal  fellowship  of  death  ! 
Where  is  the  number  of  our  English  dead? 

[Herald  shows  him  another  paper. 
Edward  the  Duke  of  York,  the  Earl  of  Suffolk, 
Sir  Richard  Ketly,  Davy  Gam,  esquire : 
None  else  of  name ;  and  of  all  other  men 
But  five  and  twenty.     O  God,  thy  arm  was  here;  100 

And  not  to  us,  but  to  thy  arm  alone, 
Ascribe  we  all !     When,  without  stratagem, 
But  in  plain  shock  and  even  play  of  battle, 
Was  ever  known  so  great  and  little  loss 
On  one  part  and  on  th'  other?    Take  it,  God, 
For  it  is  none  but  thine ! 

Exe.  'T  is  wonderful ! 

K.  Hen.  Come,  go  we  in  procession  to  the  village : 
And  be  it  death  proclaimed  through  our  host 
To  boast  of  this  or  take  that  praise  from  God 
Which  is  his  only.  1 10 

Flu.  Is  it  not  lawful,  an  please  your  majesty,  to  tell  how 
many  is  killed? 

A'.  Hen.  Yes,  captain ;  but  with  this  acknowledgement, 
That  God  fought  for  us. 

Flu.  Yes,  my  conscience,  he  did  us  great  good. 

K.  Hen.  Do  we  all  holy  rites ; 
Let  there  be  sung  '  Non  nobis '  and  '  Te  Deum' ; 
The  dead  with  charity  enclosed  in  clay : 
And  then  to  Callice ;  and  to  England  then ;  1 19 

Where  ne'er  from  France  arrived  more  happy  men.  [Exeunt. 


ACT   V. 

PROLOGUE. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.  Vouchsafe  to  those  that  have  not  read  the  story, 
That  I  may  prompt  them :  and  of  such  as  have, 
I  humbly  pray  them  to  admit  the  excuse 
Of  time,  of  numbers  and  due  course  of  things, 
Which  cannot  in  their  huge  and  proper  life 
Be  here  presented.     Now  we  bear  the  king 


Scene  i.J  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  105 

Toward  Callice:  grant  him  there;  there  seen, 

Heave  him  away  upon  your  winged  thoughts 

Athwart  the  sea.     Behold,  the  English  beach 

Pales  in  the  flood  with  men,  with  wives  and  boys,  10 

Whose  shouts  and  claps  out- voice  the  deep-mouth'd  sea, 

Which  like  a  mighty  whiffler  'fore  the  king 

Seems  to  prepare  his  way :  so  let  him  land, 

And  solemnly  see  him  set  on  to  London. 

So  swift  a  pace  hath  thought  that  even  now 

You  may  imagine  him  upon  Blackheath; 

Where  that  his  lords  desire  him  to  have  borne 

His  bruised  helmet  and  his  bended  sword 

Before  him  through  the  city :  he  forbids  it, 

Being  free  from  vainness  and  self-glorious  pride;  2C 

Giving  full  trophy,  signal  and  ostent 

Quite  from  himself  to  God.     But  now  behold, 

In  the  quick  forge  and  working-house  of  thought, 

How  London  doth  pour  out  her  citizens  ! 

The  mayor  and  all  his  brethren  in  best  sort, 

Like  to  the  senators  of  the  antique  Rome, 

With  the  plebeians  swarming  at  their  heels, 

Go  forth  and  fetch  their  conquering  Caesar  in : 

As,  by  a  lower  but  loving  likelihood, 

Were  now  the  general  of  our  gracious  empress,  30 

As  in  good  time  he  may,  from  Ireland  coming, 

Bringing  rebellion  broached  on  his  sword, 

How  many  would  the  peaceful  city  quit, 

To  welcome  him !  much  more,  and  much  more  cause, 

Did  they  this  Harry.     Now  in  London  place  him ; 

As  yet  the  lamentation  of  the  French 

Invites  the  King  of  England's  stay  at  home  ; 

The  emperor's  coming  in  behalf  of  France, 

To  order  peace  between  them ;  and  omit 

All  the  occurrences,  whatever  chanced,  40 

Till  Harry's  back-return  again  to  France : 

There  must  we  bring  him ;  and  myself  have  play'd 

The  interim,  by  remembering  you  't  is  past. 

Then  brook  abridgement,  and  your  eyes  advance, 

After  your  thoughts,  straight  back  again  to  France.       {Exit 

SCENE  I.     France.     The  English  camp. 
Enter  FLUELLEN  and  GOWER. 

Gow.  Nay,  that's  right;  but  why  wear  you  your  leek  to 
day?    Saint  Davy's  day  is  past. 


io6  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

Flu.  There  is  occasions  and  causes  why  and  wherefore  in 
all  things:  I  will  tell  you,  asse  my  friend,  Captain  Gower: 
the  rascally,  scauld,  beggarly,  lousy,  pragging  knave,  Pistol, 
which  you  and  yourself  and  all  the  world  know  to  be  no  petter 
than  a  fellow,  look  you  now,  of  no  merits,  he  is  come  to  me 
and  prings  me  pread  and  salt  yesterday,  look  you,  and  bid 
me  eat  my  leek :  it  was  in  a  place  where  I  could  not  breed 
no  contention  with  him ;  but  I  will  be  so  bold  as  to  wear  it 
in  my  cap  till  I  see  him  once  again,  and  then  I  will  tell  him 
a  little  piece  of  my  desires.  12 

Enter  PISTOL. 

Gou>.  Why,  here  he  comes,  swelling  like  a  turkey-cock. 

Flu.  'T  is  no  matter  for  his  swellings  nor  his  turkey-cocks. 
God  pless  you,  Aunchient  Pistol !  you  scurvy,  lousy  knave, 
God  pless  you ! 

Pist.   Ha!  art  thou  Bedlam?  dost  thou  thirst,  base  Trojan, 
To  have  me  fold  up  Parca's  fatal  web? 
Hence  !  I  am  qualmish  at  the  smell  of  leek.  19 

Flu.  I  peseech  you  heartily,  scurvy,  lousy  knave,  at  my 
desires,  and  my  requests,  and  my  petitions,  to  eat,  look  you, 
this  leek:  because,  look  you,  you  do  not  love  it,  nor  your  af- 
fections and  your  appetites  and  your  disgestions  doo's  not 
agree  with  it,  I  would  desire  you  to  eat  it. 

Pist.  Not  for  Cadwallader  and  all  his  goats. 

Flu.  There  is  one  goat  for  you.  [Strikes  Aim.]  Will  you 
be  so  good,  scauld  knave,  as  eat  it? 

Pist.   Base  Trojan,  thou  shall  die.  28 

Flu.  You  say  very  true,  scauld  knave,  when  God's  will  is : 
I  will  desire  you  to  live  in  the  mean  time,  and  eat  your 
victuals :  come,  there  is  sauce  for  it.  \Strike s  Aim.]  You 
called  me  yesterday  mountain-squire ;  but  I  will  make  you 
to-day  a  squire  of  low  degree.  I  pray  you,  fall  to :  if  you  can 
mock  a  leek,  you  can  eat  a  leek. 

Gow.  Enough,  captain  :  you  have  astonished  him. 

Flu.  I  say,  1  will  make  him  eat  some  part  of  my  leek,  or  I 
will  peat  his  pate  four  days.  Bite,  I  pray  you ;  it  is  good  for 
your  green  wound  and  your  ploody  coxcomb.  38 

Pist.   Must  I  bite? 

Flu.  Yes,  certainly,  and  out  of  doubt  and  out  of  question 
too,  and  ambiguities. 

Pist.  By  this  leek,  I  will  most  horribly  revenge  : 
I.  eat  and  eat?  I  swear — 

Flu.  Eat,  I  pray  you :  will  you  have  some  more  sauce  to 
your  leek  ?  there  is  not  enough  leek  to  swear  by. 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  107 

Pist.  Quiet  thy  cudgel ;  thou  dost  see  I  eat. 

Flu.  Much  good  do  you,  scauld  knave,  heartily.  Nay, 
pray  you,  throw  none  away ;  the  skin  is  good  for  your  broken 
coxcomb.  When  you  take  occasions  to  see  leeks  hereafter, 
I  pray  you,  mock  at  'em ;  that  is  all.  50 

Pist.  Good. 

Flu.  Ay,  leeks  is  good :  hold  you,  there  is  a  groat  to  heal 
your  pate. 

Pist.  Me  a  groat ! 

Flu.  Yes,  verily  and  in  truth,  you  shall  take  it ;  or  I  have 
another  leek  in  my  pocket,  which  you  shall  eat. 

Pist.   I  take  thy  groat  in  earnest  of  revenge. 

Flu.  If  I  owe  you  any  thing,  I  will  pay  you  in  cudgels :  you 
shall  be  a  woodmonger,  and  buy  nothing  of  me  but  cudgels. 
God  bye  you,  and  keep  you,  and  heal  your  pate  {Exit.  60 

Pist.  All  hell  shall  stir  for  this. 

Gow.  Go,  go ;  you  are  a  counterfeit  cowardly  knave.  Will 
you  mock  at  an  ancient  tradition,  begun  upon  an  honourable 
respect,  and  worn  as  a  memorable  trophy  of  predeceased 
valour  and  dare  not  avouch  in  your  deeds  any  of  your  words? 
I  have  seen  you  gleeking  and  galling  at  this  gentleman  twice 
or  thrice.  You  thought,  because  he  could  not  speak  English 
in  the  native  garb,  he  could  not  therefore  handle  an  English 
cudgel :  you  find  it  otherwise ;  and  henceforth  let  a  Welsh 
correction  teach  you  a  good  English  condition.  Fare  ye 
well.  {Exit.  7 1 

Pist.  Doth  Fortune  play  the  huswife  with  me  now? 
News  have  I,  that  my  Doll  is  dead  i'  the  spital 
Of  malady  of  France ; 
And  there  my  rendezvous  is  quite  cut  off. 
Old  I  do  wax ;  and  from  my  weary  limbs 
Honour  is  cudgelled.     Well,  bawd  I  '11  turn, 
And  something  lean  to  cutpurse  of  quick  hand. 
To  England  will  I  steal,  and  there  I  '11  steal : 
Arid  patches  will  I  get  unto  these  cudgell'd  scars,  80 

And  swear  I  got  them  in  the  Gallia  wars.  {Exit. 

SCENE  II.     France.     A  royal  palace. 

Enter,  at  one  door,  KING  HENRY,  EXETER,  BEDFORD,  GLOU- 
CESTER, WARWICK,  WESTMORELAND,  and  other  Lords; 
at  another,  the  FRENCH  KING,  QUEEN  ISABEL,  the 
PRINCESS  KATHARINE,  ALICE,  and  other  Ladies ;  the 
DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY,  and  his  train. 

K.  Hen.  Peace  to  this  meeting,  wherefore  we  are  met ! 


io8  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

Unto  our  brother  France,  and  to  our  sister, 

Health  and  fair  time  of  day;  joy  and  good  wishes 

To  our  most  fair  and  princely  cousin  Katharine; 

And,  as  a  branch  and  member  of  this  royalty, 

By  whom  this  great  assembly  is  contrived, 

\Ve  do  salute  you,  Uuke  of  Burgundy ; 

And,  princes  French,  and  peers,  health  to  you  all ! 

/Or.  A'jng.   Right  joyous  are  we  to  behold  your  face, 
Most  worthy  brother  England  ;  fairly  met :  1C 

So  are  you,  princes  English,  every  one. 

Q.  ha.  So  happy  be  the  issue,  brother  England, 
Of  this  good  day  and  of  this  gracious  meeting, 
As  we  are  now  glad  to  behold  your  eyes ; 
Your  eyes,  which  hitherto  have  bome  in  them 
Against  the  French,  that  met  them  in  their  bent. 
The  fatal  balls  of  murdering  basilisks: 
The  venom  of  such  looks,  we  fairly  hope, 
Have  lost  their  quality,  and  that  this  day 
Shall  change  all  griefs  and  quarrels  into  love.  2C 

K.  Hen.  To  cry  amen  to  that,  thus  we  appear. 

Q.  ha.  You  English  princes  all,  I  do  salute  you. 

Bur.   My  duty  to  you  both,  on  equal  love, 
Great  Kings  of  France  and  England!     That  I  have  labour'd, 
With  all  my  wits,  my  pains  and  strong  endeavours, 
To  bring  your  most  imperial  majesties 
Unto  this  bar  and  royal  interview, 
Your  mightiness  on  both  parts  best  can  witness. 
Since  then  my  office  hath  so  far  prevail'd 
That,  face  to  face  and  royal  eye  to  eye,  3C 

You  have  congreeted,  let  it  not  disgrace  me. 
If  I  demand,  before  this  royal  view, 
What  rub  or  what  impediment  there  is, 
Why  that  the  naked,  poor  and  mangled  Peace, 
Dear  nurse  of  arts,  plenties  and  joyful  births, 
Should  not  in  this  best  garden  of  the  world 
Our  fertile  France,  put  up  her  lovely  visage? 
Alas,  she  hath  from  France  too  long  been  chased; 
And  all  her  husbandry  doth  lie  on  heaps, 
Corrupting  in  it  own  fertility.  40 

Her  vine,  the  merry  cheerer  of  the  heart, 
Unpruned  dies  ;  her  hedges  even-pleach'd, 
Like  prisoners  wildly  overgrown  with  hair, 
Put  forth  disordered  twigs  ;  her  fallow  leas 
The  darnel,  hemlock  and  rank  fumitory 
Doth  root  upon,  while  that  the  coulter  rusts 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  109 

That  should  deracinate  such  savagery; 

The  even  mead,  that  erst  brought  sweetly  forth 

The  freckled  cowslip,  burnet  and  green  clovei, 

Wanting  the  scythe,  all  uncorrected,  rank,  50 

Conceives  by  idleness  and  nothing  teems 

But  hateful  docks,  rough  thistles,  kecksies,  burs, 

Losing  both  beauty  and  utility. 

And  as  our  vineyards,  fallows,  meads  and  hedges, 

Defective  in  their  natures,  grow  to  wildness, 

Even  so  our  houses  and  ourselves  and  children 

Have  lost,  or  do  not  learn  for  want  of  time, 

The  sciences  that  should  become  our  country; 

But  grow  like  savages, — as  soldiers  will 

That  nothing  do  but  meditate  on  blood, —  60 

To  swearing  and  stern  looks,  defused  attire 

And  every  thing  that  seems  unnatural. 

Which  to  reduce  into  our  former  favour 

You  are  assembled :  and  my  speech  entreats 

That  I  may  know  the  let,  why  gentle  Peace 

Should  not  expel  these  inconveniences 

And  bless  us  with  her  former  qualities. 

K.  Hen.  If,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  you  would  the  peace, 
Whose  want  gives  growth  to  the  imperfections 
Which  you  have  cited,  you  must  buy  that  peace  7c 

With  full  accord  to  all  our  just  demands ; 
Whose   tenors  and  particular  effects 
You  have  en  scheduled  briefly  in  your  hands. 

Bur.  The  king  hath  heard  them ;  to  the  which  as  yet 
There  is  no  answer  made. 

K.  Hen.  Well  then  the  peace, 

Which  you  before  so  urged,  lies  in  his  answer. 

Fr.  King.   I  have  but  with  a  cursorary  eye 
O'erglanced  the  articles:  pleaseth  your  grace 
To  appoint  some  of  your  council  presently 
To  sit  with  us  once  more,  with  better  heed  8c 

To  re-survey  them,  we  will  suddenly 
Pass  our  accept  and  peremptory  answer. 

K.  Hen.  Brother,  we  shall.     Go,  uncle  Exeter, 
And  brother  Clarence,  and  you,  brother  Gloucester, 
Warwick  and  Huntingdon,  go  with  the  king; 
And  take  with  you  free  power  to  ratify, 
Augment,  or  alter,  as  your  wisdom  best 
Shall  see  advantageable  for  our  dignity, 
Any  thing  in  or  out  of  our  demands, 
And  we  '11  consign  thereto.     Will  you,  fair  sister,  go 


no  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

(io  with  the  princes,  or  stay  here  with  us? 

O.  Isu.  Our  gracious  brother,  1  will  go  with  them: 
Haply  a  woman's  voice  may  do  some  good, 
When  articles  too  nicely  urged  be  stood  on. 

A'.  Hen.  Yet  leave  our  cousin  Katharine  here  with  us: 
She  is  our  capital  demand,  comprised 
Within  the  fore-rank  of  our  articles. 

Q.  ha.  She  hath  good  leave. 

[Exeunt  all  except  Henry,  Katharine,  and  Alice. 

K.  Hen.  Fair  Katharine,  and  most  fair, 

Will  you  vouchsafe  to  teach  a  soldier  terms 
Such  as  will  enter  at  a  lady's  ear  100 

And  plead  his  love-suit  to  her  gentle  heart? 

Kath.  Your  majesty  shall  mock  at  me;  I  cannot  speak 
your  England. 

A'.  Hen.  O  fair  Katharine,  if  you  will  love  me  soundly  with 
your  French  heart,  I  will  be  glad  to  hear  you  confess  it 
brokenly  with  your  English  tongue.  Do  you  like  me, 
Kate? 

Kath.  Pardonnez-moi,  I  cannot  tell  wat  is  'like  me". 

A'.  Hen.  An  angel  is  like  you,  Kate,  and  you  are  like  an 
angel.  1 10 

Kath.  Que  dit-il?  que  je  suis  semblable  a  les  anges? 

Alice.  Oui,  vraiment,  sauf  votre  grace,  ainsi  dit-il. 

A'.  Hen.  I  said  so,  dear  Katharine ;  and  I  must  not  blush 
to  affirm  it. 

Kath.  O  bon  Dieu!  les  langues  des  hommes  sont  pleines 
de  tromperies. 

A'.  Hen.  What  says  she,  fair  one?  that  the  tongues  of  men 
are  full  of  deceits? 

Alice.  Oui,  dat  de  tongues  of  de  mans  is  be  full  of  deceits: 
dat  is  de  princess.  120 

A'.  Hen.  The  princess  is  the  better  Englishwoman.  I' 
faith,  Kate,  my  wooing  is  fit  for  thy  understanding:  I  am 
glad  thou  canst  speak  no  better  English;  for,  if  thou  couldst, 
thou  wouldst  find  me  such  a  plain  king  that  thou  wouldst 
think  I  had  sold  my  farm  to  buy  my  crown.  1  know  no  ways 
to  mince  it  in  love,  but  directly  to  say  '  I  love  you':  then  if 
you  urge  me  farther  than  to  say  'do  you  in  faith?'  I  wear  out 
my  suit.  Give  me  your  answer ;  i'  faith,  do :  and  so  clap 
hands  and  a  bargain :  how  say  you,  lady? 

Kath.  Sauf  votre  honneur,  me  understand  well  130 

A'.  Hen.  Marry,  if  you  would  put  me  to  verses  or  to  dance 
for  your  sake,  Kate,  why  you  undid  me:  for  the  one,  I  have 
neither  words  nor  measure,  and  for  the  other,  I  have  no 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  in 

strength  in  measure,  yet  a  reasonable  measure  in  strength. 
If  I  could  win  a  lady  at  leap-frog,  or  by  vaulting  into  my 
saddle  with  my  armour  on  my  back,  under  the  correction  of 
bragging  be  it  spoken,  I  should  quickly  leap  into  a  wife.  Or 
if  I  might  buffet  for  my  love,  or  bound  my  horse  for  her 
favours,  I  could  lay  on  like  a  butcher  and  sit  like  a  jack-an- 
apes,  never  off.  But,  before  God,  Kate,  I  cannot  look  greenly 
nor  gasp  out  my  eloquence,  nor  I  have  no  cunning  in  protes- 
tation; only  downright  oaths,  which  I  never  use  till  urged, 
nor  never  break  for  urging.  If  thou  canst  love  a  fellow  of 
this  temper,  Kate,  whose  face  is  not  worth  sun-burning,  that 
never  looks  in  his  glass  for  love  of  any  thing  he  sees  there, 
let  thine  eye  be  thy  cook.  I  speak  to  thee  plain  soldier :  if 
thou  canst  love  me  for  this,  take  me ;  if  not,  to  say  to  thee 
that  I  shall  die,  is  true;  but  for  thy  love,  by  the  Lord,  no;  yet 
I  love  thee  too.  And  while  thou  livest,  dear  Kate,  take  a 
fellow  of  plain  and  uncoined  constancy;  for  he  perforce  must 
do  thee  right,  because  he  hath  not  the  gift  to  woo  in  other 
places :  for  these  fellows  of  infinite  tongue,  that  can  rhyme 
themselves  into  ladies'  favours,  they  do  always  reason  them- 
selves out  again.  What!  a  speaker  is  but  a  prater;  a  rhyme 
is  but  a  ballad.  A  good  leg  will  fall ;  a  straight  back  will 
stoop;  a  black  beard  will  turn  white;  a  curled  pate  will  grow 
bald ;  a  fair  face  will  wither ;  a  full  eye  will  wax  hollow ;  but 
a  good  heart,  Kate,  is  the  sun  and  the  moon ;  or  rather  the 
sun  and  not  the  moon;  for  it  shines  bright  and  never  changes, 
but  keeps  his  course  truly.  If  thou  would  have  such  a  one, 
take  me;  and  take  me,  take  a  soldier;  take  a  soldier,  take  a 
king.  And  what  sayest  thou  then  to  my  love  ?  speak,  my  fair, 
and  fairly,  I  pray  thee.  163 

Kath.  Is  it  possible  dat  I  sould  love  de  enemy  of  France? 

K.  Hen.  No;  it  is  not  possible  you  should  love  the  enemy 
of  France,  Kate:  but,  in  loving  me,  you  should  love  the  friend 
of  France;  for  I  love  France  so  well  that  I  will  not  part  with 
a  village  of  it;  I  will  have  it  all  mine:  and,  Kate,  when  France 
is  mine  and  I  am  yours,  then  yours  is  France  and  you  are 
mine.  I7O 

Kath.  I  cannot  tell  wat  is  dat. 

K.  Hen.  No,  Kate?  I  will  tell  thee  in  French;  which  I  am 
sure  will  hang  upon  my  tongue  like  a  new-married  wife  about 
her  husband's  neck,  hardly  to  be  shook  off.  Je  quand  sur  le 
possession  de  France,  et  quand  vous  avez  le  possession  de 
moi, — let  me  see,  what  then?  Saint  Denis  be  my  speed! — 
done  votre  est  France  et  vous  etes  mienne.  It  is  as  easy  for 
me,  Kate,  to  conquer  the  kingdom  as  to  speak  so  much  more 


112  KING    HKNRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

French:  I  shall  never  move  thee  in  French,  unless  it  be  to 
laugh  at  me.  180 

AV////.  Sauf  votre  honneur,  le  Francois  que  vous  parlez,  il 
est  meillcur  que  1'Anglois  lequel  je  parle. 

A".  Hen.  No,  faith,  is't  not,  Kate:  but  thy  speaking  of  my 
tongue,  and  I  thine,  most  truly-falsely,  must  needs  be  granted 
to  be  much  at  one.  Hut,  Kate,  dost  thou  understand  thus 
much  English,  canst  thou  love  me? 

Kath.   1  cannot  tell.  187 

A".  Hen.  Can  any  of  your  neighbours  tell,  Kate?  I  '11  ask 
them.  Come,  I  know  thou  lovest  me:  and  at  night,  when 
you  come  into  your  closet,  you  '11  question  this  gentlewoman 
about  me;  and  I  know,  Kate,  you  will  to  her  dispraise  those 
parts  in  me  that  you  love  with  your  heart :  but,  good  Kate, 
mock  me  mercifully ;  the  rather,  gentle  princess,  because  I 
love  thee  cruelly.  If  ever  thou  beest  mine,  Kate,  as  I  have 
a  saving  faith  within  me  tells  me  thou  shalt,  1  get  thee  with 
scambling,  and  thou  must  therefore  needs  prove  a  good 
soldier-breeder:  shall  not  thou  and  I,  between  Saint  Denis 
and  Saint  George,  compound  a  boy,  half  French,  half 
English,  that  shall  go  to  Constantinople  and  take  the  Turk 
by  the  beard?  shall  we  not?  what  sayest  thou,  my  fair  flower- 
de-luce?  201 

Kath.   I  do  not  know  dat. 

A'.  Hen.  No;  'tis  hereafter  to  know,  but  now  to  promise: 
do  but  now  promise,  Kate,  you  will  endeavour  for  your  French 
part  of  such  a  boy;  and  for  my  English  moiety  take  the  word 
of  a  king  and  a  bachelor.  How  answer  you,  la  plus  belle 
Katharine  du  monde,  mon  tres  cher  et  devin  de"esse? 

Kath.  Your  majestee  ave  fausse  French  enough  to  deceive 
de  most  sage  demoiselle  dat  is  en  France.  209 

A'.  Hen.  Now,  fie  upon  my  false  French!  By  mine 
honour,  in  true  English,  I  love  thee,  Kate:  by  which  honour 
I  dare  not  swear  thou  lovest  me ;  yet  my  blood  begins  to 
flatter  me  that  thou  dost,  notwithstanding  the  poor  and 
untempering  effect  of  my  visage.  Now,  beshrew  my  father's 
ambition  !  he  was  thinking  of  civil  wars  when  he  got  me: 
therefore  was  I  created  with  a  stubborn  outside,  with  an 
aspect  of  iron,  that,  when  I  come  to  woo  ladies,  I  fright 
them.  But,  in  faith,  Kate,  the  elder  I  wax,  the  better  I  shall 
appear:  my  comfort  is,  that  old  age,  that  ill  layer  up  of 
beauty,  can  do  no  more  spoil  upon  my  face:  thou  hast  me,  if 
thou  hast  me,  at  the  worst ;  and  thou  shalt  wear  me,  if  thou 
wear  me,  better  and  better:  and  therefore  tell  me,  most  fair 
Katharine,  will  you  have  me?  Put  off  your  maiden  blushes; 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  U3 

avouch  the  thoughts  of  your  heart  with  the  looks  of  an 
empress;  take  me  by  the  hand  and  say  '  Harry  of  England, 
I  am  thine':  which  word  thou  shalt  no  sooner  bless  mine  ear 
withal,  but  I  will  tell  thee  aloud '  England  is  thine,  Ireland  is 
thine,  France  is  thine,  and  Henry  Plantagenet  is  thine';  who, 
though  I  speak  it  before  his  face,  if  he  be  not  fellow  with  the 
best  king,  thou  shalt  find  the  best  king  of  good  fellows. 
Come,  your  answer  in  broken  music ;  for  thy  voice  is  music 
and  thy  English  broken ;  therefore,  queen  of  all,  Katharine, 
break  thy  mind  to  me  in  broken  English;  wilt  thou  have 
me?  234 

Kath.  Dat  is  as  it  sail  please  de  roi  mon  pere. 

K.  Hen.  Nay,  it  will  please  him  well,  Kate;  it  shall  please 
him,  Kate. 

Kath.  Den  it  sail  also  content  me. 

K.  Hen.  Upon  that  I  kiss  your  hand,  and  I  call  you  my 
queen. 

Kath.  Laissez,  mon  seigneur,  laissez,  laissez :  ma  foi,  je  ne 
veux  point  que  vous  abaissiez  votre  grandeur  en  baisant  la 
main  d'une  de  votre  seigneurie  indigne  serviteur ;  excusez-moi, 
je  vous  supplie,  mon  tres-puissant  seigneur.  244 

K.  Hen.  Then  I  will  kiss  your  lips,  Kate. 

Kath.  Les  dames  et  demoiselles  pour  etre  baisdes  devant 
leur  noces,  il  n'est  pas  la  coutume  de  France. 

K.  Hen.  Madam  my  interpreter,  what  says  she? 

Alice.  Dat  it  is  not  be  de  fashion  pour  les  ladies  of  France, 
— I  cannot  tell  wat  is  baiser  en  Anglish. 

K.  Hen.  To  kiss. 

Alice.  Your  majesty  entendre  bettre  que  moi. 

K,  Hen.  It  is  not  a  fashion  for  the  maids  in  France  to  kiss 
before  they  are  married,  would  she  say?  254 

Alice.  Oui,  vraimenL 

K.  Hen.  O  Kate,  nice  customs  curtsy  to  great  kings.  Dear 
Kate,  you  and  I  cannot  be  confined  within  the  weak  list  of  a 
country's  fashion :  we  are  the  makers  of  manners,  Kate ;  and 
the  liberty  that  follows  our  places  stops  the  mouth  of  all  find- 
faults  ;  as  I  will  do  yours,  for  upholding  the  nice  fashion  of 
your  country  in  denying  me  a  kiss ;  therefore,  patiently  and 
yielding.  [Kissing  her.\  You  have  witchcraft  in  your  lips, 
Kate :  there  is  more  eloquence  in  a  sugar  touch  of  them  than 
in  the  tongues  of  the  French  council ;  and  they  should  sooner 
persuade  Harry  of  England  than  a  general  petition  of  mon- 
archs.  Here  comes  your  father.  266 


(M178) 


H4  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 


Re-enter  the  FRENCH  KING  and  his  QUEEN,  BURGUNDY, 
and  other  Lords. 

Bur.  God  save  your  majesty !  my  royal  cousin,  teach  you 
our  princess  English? 

A.  Hen.  1  would  have  her  learn,  my  fair  cousin,  how  per 
fectly  I  love  her ;  and  that  is  good  English. 

Bur.   Is  she  not  apt? 

K.  Hen.  Our  tongue  is  rough,  coz,  and  my  condition  is  not 
smooth ;  so  that,  having  neither  the  voice  nor  the  heart  of 
flattery  about  me,  I  cannot  so  conjure  up  the  spirit  of  love  in 
her,  that  he  will  appear  in  his  true  likeness.  275 

Bur.  Pardon  the  frankness  of  my  mirth,  if  I  answer  you 
for  that.  If  you  would  conjure  in  her,  you  must  make  a 
circle ;  if  conjure  up  love  in  her  in  his  true  likeness,  he  must 
appear  naked  and  blind.  Can  you  blame  her  then,  being  a 
maid  yet  rosed  over  with  the  virgin  crimson  of  modesty,  if 
she  deny  the  appearance  of  a  naked  blind  boy  in  her  naked 
seeing  self?  It  were,  my  lord,  a  hard  condition  for  a  maid 
to  consign  to. 

A'.  Hen.  Yet  they  do  wink  and  yield,  as  love  is  blind  and 
enforces. 

Bur.  They  are  then  excused,  my  lord,  when  they  see  not 
what  they  do.  287 

K.  Hen.  Then,  good  my  lord,  teach  your  cousin  to  consent 
winking. 

Bur.  I  will  wink  on  her  to  consent,  my  lord,  if  you  will 
teach  her  to  know  my  meaning :  for  maids,  well  summered 
and  warm  kept,  are  like  flies  at  Bartholomew -tide,  blind, 
though  they  have  their  eyes ;  and  then  they  will  endure  hand- 
ling, which  before  would  not  abide  looking  on. 

K.  Hen.  This  moral  ties  me  over  to  time  and  a  hot  sum- 
mer ;  and  so  I  shall  catch  the  fly,  your  cousin,  in  the  latter 
end,  and  she  must  be  blind  too. 

Bur.  As  love  is,  my  lord,  before  it  loves.  298 

K.  Hen.  It  is  so:  and  you  may,  some  of  you,  thank  love 
for  my  blindness,  who  cannot  see  many  a  fair  French  city  for 
one  fair  French  maid  that  stands  in  my  way. 

Fr.  King.  Yes,  my  lord,  you  see  them  perspectively,  the 
cities  turned  into  a  maid  ;  for  they  are  all  girdled  with  maiden 
walls  that  war  hath  never  entered. 

K.  Hen.  Shall  Kate  be  my  wife? 

Fr.  King.  So  please  you. 

K.  Hen.   I  am  content,    so  the  maiden  cities  you  talk  of 


Scene  2.]  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  115 

may  wait  on  her :  so  the  maid  that  stood  in  the  way  for  my 
wish  shall  show  me  the  way  to  my  will. 

Fr.  King.  We  have  consented  to  all  terms  of  reason.     310 

K.  Hen.   Is't  so,  my  lords  of  England? 

West.  The  king  hath  granted  every  article : 
His  daughter  first,  and  then  in  sequel  all, 
According  to  their  firm  proposed  natures. 

Exe.  Only  he  hath  not  yet  subscribed  this : 
Where  you  majesty  demands,  that  the  King  of  France,  having 
any  occasion  to  write  for  matter  of  grant,  shall  name  your 
highness  in  this  form  and  with  this  addition,  in  French,  Notre 
tres-cher  fils  Henri,  Roi  d'Angleterre,  He'ritier  de  France; 
and  thus  in  Latin,  Praeclarissimus  filius  noster  Henricus,  Rex 
Angliae,  et  Haeres  Franciae.  321 

Fr.  King.  Nor  this  I  have  not,  brother,  so  denied, 
But  your  request  shall  make  me  let  it  pass. 

K.  Hen.   I  pray  you  then,  in  love  and  dear  alliance, 
Let  that  one  article  rank  with  the  rest ; 
And  thereupon  give  me  your  daughter. 

Fr.  King.  Take  her,  fair  son,  and  from  her  blood  raise  up 
Issue  to  me ;  that  the  contending  kingdoms 
Of  France  and  England,  whose  very  shores  look  pale 
With  envy  of  each  other's  happiness,  330 

May  cease  their  hatred,  and  this  dear  conjunction 
Plant  neighbourhood  and  Christian-like  accord 
In  their  sweet  bosoms,  that  never  war  advance 
His  bleeding  sword  'twixt  England  and  fair  France. 

All.  Amen ! 

K.  Hen.  Now,  welcome,  Kate :  and  bear  me  witness  all, 
That  here  I  kiss  her  as  my  sovereign  queen.  [Flourish. 

Q.  Isa.  God,  the  best  maker  of  all  marriages, 
Combine  your  hearts  in  one,  your  realms  in  one ! 
As  man  and  wife,  being  two,  are  one  in  love,  34° 

So  be  there  'twixt  your  kingdoms  such  a  spousal, 
That  never  may  ill  office,  or  fell  jealousy, 
Which  troubles  oft  the  bed  of  blessed  marriage, 
Thrust  in  between  the  paction  of  these  kingdoms, 
To  make  divorce  of  their  incorporate  league; 
That  English  may  as  French,  French  Englishmen, 
Receive  each  other.     God  speak  this  Amen! 

AIL  Amen! 

K.  Hen.  Prepare  we  for  our  marriage:  on  which  day, 
My  Lord  of  Burgundy,  we  '11  take  your  Oath, 
And  all  the  peers',  for  surety  of  our  leagues.  350 

Then  shall  I  swear  to  Kate,  and  you  to  me; 


n6  KING  HENRY  THE  KIFTH.      [Epilogue. 

And  may  our  oaths  well  kept  and  prosperous  be ! 

\Sennet.     Exeunt. 

EPI  LOGUE. 
Enter  Chorus. 

Chor.     Thus  far,  with  rough  and  all-unable  pen, 

Our  bending  author  hath  pursued  the  story, 
In  little  room  confining  mighty  men, 

Mangling  by  starts  the  full  course  of  their  glory. 
Small  time,  but  in  that  small  most  greatly  lived 

This  star  of  England :  Fortune  made  his  sword  ; 
By  which  the  world's  best  garden  he  achieved, 

And  of  it  left  his  son  imperial  lord. 
Henry  the  Sixth,  in  infant  bands  crown'd  King 

Of  France  and  England,  did  this  king  succeed ;  ic 

Whose  state  so  many  had  the  managing, 

That  they  lost  France  and  made  his  England  bleed : 
Which  oft  our  stage  hath  shown  ;  and,  for  their  sake, 
In  your  fair  minds  let  this  acceptance  take.  [Exit. 


NOTES. 


LIST  OF  PRINCIPAL  REFERENCES  AND  CONTRACTIONS. 

M.  E Middle  English  (about  1100-1500). 

O.  E Old  English  (Anglo-Saxon). 

O.F Old  French. 

Ff. Folios. 

Qq Quartos. 

F.  i,  &c The  ist  Folio,  &c. 

P Prologue. 

Abbott Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar. 

Skeat Skeat's  Etymological  Dictionary. 

Schmidt Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon. 

Wright Henry  V.  (C.P.],  edited  by  W.  A.  Wright. 

Deighton Henry  V.  (W.  H.  Allen),  edited  by  K.  Deighton. 

Kreyssig F.  Kreyssig.  Shakespeare -fragen  (1871),  Vorlesungen  iiber 

Shakespeare. 

Swinburne Study  of  Shakespeare. 

Morris Keynotes  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  (1886). 

Konig G.  Konig.     Der  Vers  in  Shaksperes  Dramen  (Trubner). 

Moulton R.  G.  Moulton.  Character-Development  in  Shakspere  (Trans- 
actions of  the  New  Shakspere  Soc.  1880-6,  p.  563). 

Nicholson Dr.  B.  Nicholson.  Relation  of  Folios  and  Quartos  of  Henry  V. 

(ib.,  p.  77). 

Fairholt F.  W.  Fairholt.     Costume  in  England  (ed.  1885). 


DRAMATIS  PERSON JS. 

KING  HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  Born  at  Monmouth,  1387,  died  at 
Vincennes,  near  Paris,  ist  Sept.,  1422,  and  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 

DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER.  Humphrey  (born  1391,  died  1447), 
youngest  son  of  Henry  IV.,  was  created  Duke  of  Gloucester  in  1414. 
He  served  through  the  whole  of  the  Agincourt  campaign,  and  com- 
manded one  of  the  three  divisions  in  the  battle.  After  the  death  of 
Henry  V.,  Gloucester  became  Protector  in  England,  his  brother 
Bedford  being  occupied  in  France. 

DUKE  OF  BEDFORD.  John  (born  1389,  died  1435),  third  son  of 
Henry  IV.,  was  created  Duke  of  Bedford  in  1414.  He  was  left  in 
England  as  lieutenant  of  the  kingdom  during  the  Agincourt  campaign, 


llg  KING    IIKNRY   THE   FIFTH. 

and  again  in  1420,  and  was  therefore  not  present  cither  at  the  battle 
or  at  Henry's  marriage.  After  the  death  of  Henry  V7.  and 
Charles  VI.  (22nd  Octolxrr,  1422),  Ik-dford  became  Regent  of  France 
for  Henry  VI.  He  married  in  1423  Anne,  sister  of  Philip  of  Bur- 
gundy. In  Henry  IV.  he  appears  as  '  Prince  John  of  Lancaster '. 

DUKE  OK  EXKTER.  Thomas  Beaufort,  called  'Exeter'  in  the 
play,  was  not  created  Duke  of  Exeter  till  1416.  During  the  time  of 
acts  i.-iv.  he  was  Earl  of  Dorset  (so  created  1412).  For  his  relation- 
ship to  the  king  see  Appendix  I.  B.  Exeter  having  l>een  left  by 
Henry  in  command  of  Harfleur  was  not  present  at  Agincourt,  but 
Shakespeare  follows  the  Chronicles,  which  state  that  Exeter  left  Sir 
John  Fastolfe  in  his  place  at  Harfleur  and  himself  rejoined  the  king. 

DUKE  OF  YORK.  Edward,  Duke  of  York  (called  in  Richard  II. 
Aumerle),  son  of  Edmund  of  Langley,  youngest  son  of  Edward  III. 
After  York's  death  at  Agincourt,  his  title  passed  to  his  nephew 
Richard,  son  of  Richard,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  whose  treason  and 
death  is  narrated  in  this  play,  and  representative  through  his  mother 
of  Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence,  second  son  of  Edward  III.  (see  Appen- 
dix I.  B.)  His  claim  to  the  throne  in  the  next  reign  was  the  occasion 
of  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

EARL  OF  SALISBURY.  Thomas  de  Montacute,  fourth  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  succeeded  1409;  created  Earl  of  Perche  in  Normandy 
1419,  slain  at  the  siege  of  Orleans  1428.  His  only  daughter  Alice 
married  Richard  Nevill,  third  son  of  Ralph,  Earl  of  Westmoreland. 
Hence  apparently  the  words  '  my  kind  kinsman '  addressed  by  Salis- 
bury to  Westmoreland  in  iv.  3.  10. 

EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND.  Ralph  Nevill,  eighth  Baron  Nevill  of 
Raby,  created  Earl  of  Westmoreland  1397,  K.G.,  Earl  Marshal ; 
died  1425.  He  is  a  character  in  both  parts  of  Henry  Ilr.  He 
married  Joan  Beaufort,  daughter  of  John  of  Gaunt  by  Catharine 
Swinford.  Hence  called  by  Henry  '  my  cousin ',  iv.  3.  19.  Mr. 
Wright  adds,  "  Henry  V.  in  his  will,  made  at  Southampton,  241(1 
July,  1415.  leaves  to  Ralph.  Earl  of  Westmoreland  '  consanguiiieo 
nostro'  ('  our  kinsman')  a  bason  and  ewer  of  gold  worth  a  hundred 
marks".  For  his  relationship  to  Salisbury,  see  the  note  on  Salisbury 
above.  Westmoreland  was  not  with  the  king  during  the  Agincourt 
campaign,  being  at  the  time  one  of  the  council  of  the  Duke  of  Bed- 
ford, regent  of  England  in  the  king's  absence,  and  ( probably )  Warden 
of  the  Scotch  Marches. 

EARL  OK  WARWICK.  Richard  de  Beauchamp,  twelfth  Earl  of 
Warwick,  1401.  He  was  created  in  1422  by  Henry  VI.  Earl  of 
Albemarle,  and  died  1439.  He  returned  to  England  ill  after  the 
taking  of  Harfleur,  and  (in  spite  of  iv.  3.  54)  was  not  present  at 
Agincourt. 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY.  Henry  Chicheley  succeeded 
Thomas  Arundel  in  1414.  The  speech  which  Hall  represents  him 
to  have  made  in  the  Leicester  Parliament  of  1414,  and  which  forms 


NOTES.  119 

the  basis  of  i.  2.  33,  &c.,  could  not  actually  have  been  made,  for 
according  to  Stubbs  (Constitutional History ,  iii.  83),  Chicheley  did 
not  sit  as  archbishop  in  the  Leicester  Parliament.  However,  he 
belonged  to  the  war  party.  He  was  the  founder  of  All  Souls'  College, 
Oxford.  He  died  1443. 

BISHOP  OF  ELY.  John  Fordham,  translated  to  Ely  from  Durham 
in  1388. 

EARL  OF  CAMBRIDGE.  Richard,  second  son  of  Edmund  of 
Langley,  Duke  of  York,  was  created  Earl  of  Cambridge  in  1414,  and 
executed  in  1415.  See  the  note  on  the  Duke  of  York  above. 

LORD  SCROOP.  Henry  Scrope,  third  Baron  Scrope  of  Masham, 
beheaded  and  attainted  1415. 

SIR  THOMAS  GREY,  of  Heton,  Northumberland,  executed  1415, 
had  married  the  third  daughter  of  Ralph,  Earl  of  Westmoreland. 

SIR  THOMAS  ERPINGHAM  "is  called  in  the  Agincourt  Roll  'stuard 
of  the  Kinges  house'.  He  was  a  great  benefactor  of  the  city  of 
Norwich,  where  he  built  the  well-known  Erpingham  gateway" 
(Mr.  Wright). 

CHARLES  THE  SIXTH  reigned  from  1380  to  Oct.  1422.  By  thus 
surviving  Henry  V.  for  two  months,  he  prevented  the  latter  ever 
being  the  actual  king  of  France.  During  most  of  his  reign 
Charles  VI.  was  insane,  and  his  kingdom  torn  asunder  between  the 
faction  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  his  cousin,  and  that  of  the  family 
of  his  brother  Orleans,  commonly  called  '  the  Armagnacs '. 

LEWIS  THE  DAUPHIN,  a  dissolute  prince,  who  died  before  his 
father  in  1416.  Contrary  to  Shakespeare's  account,  he  was  not  pre- 
sent at  Agincourt. 

DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY  (v.  2.).  Philip  the  Good,  mentioned  in 
iii.  5.  45  as  '  Charolois '.  It  was  a  lifelong  regret  to  him  that  he  was 
not  present  at  Agincourt.  Owing  to  the  command  being  given  to 
the  Constable  d'Albret,  who  belonged  to  the  Armagnac  party,  no 
Burgundians  took  part  in  the  battle.  After  the  treacherous  murder 
of  his  father,  Jean  sans  Peur  (the  'Burgundy'  of  iii.  5.  42),  by  the 
Dauphin  Charles  (afterwards  Charles  VII.),  Burgundy  brought  about 
the  peace  between  Charles  VI.  and  Henry  V.,  by  which  the  Dauphin 
was  excluded  from  the  succession. 

DUKE  OF  ORLEANS.  Charles,  Duke  of  Orleans,  son  of  Louis, 
Duke  of  Orleans  (the  brother  of  Charles  VI. ),  who  was  murdered  by 
order  of  his  cousin  and  opponent,  Jean  sans  Peur,  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
in  1407.  The  younger  Orleans  married,  secondly,  a  daughter  of  the 
Count  Armagnac,  who  became  Constable  of  France  after'  the  death 
of  d'Albret  at  Agincourt,  and  gave  his  name  to  the  '  Armagnacs '  or 
anti-Burgundian  party.  Orleans  was  taken  to  England  as  a  prisoner 
after  Agincourt,  and  spent  many  years  in  captivity  at  Windsor  and 
Pomfret,  during  which  he  wrote  some  of  the  most  charming  French 
poetry  of  the  century. 


120  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

DUKF.  OF  BOURBON  was  the  maternal  uncle  of  Charles  VI. 

THE  CONSTABLE  OF  FRANCE.  Charles  d'Albret  (called  by 
Shakespeare  and  Holinshed  '  Dclabreth ',  by  Hall  '  De  la  brct  ) 
commanded  the  French  army  at  Agincourt,  and  was  killed  there. 

MONTJOY,  properly  not  a  name,  but  a  title  of  the  Chief  Herald  of 
France. 

ISABEL,  QUEEN  OK  FRANCE.  Isalx:!  (or  '  Isal>eau')  of  Bavaria, 
wife  of  Charles  VI.,  a  woman  of  abandoned  life,  who  had  had  as  her 
lover  her  brother-in-law,  the  elder  Duke  of  Orleans. 

KATHARINE,  third  daughter  of  Charles  VI.  and  Isabel,  marred 
Henry  V.  on  June  2,  1420,  and  became  the  mother  of  Henry  VI. 
After  the  death  of  Henry  V.  she  married  Owen  Tudor,  a  Welsh 
gentleman  of  her  household.  Their  son  Edmund  married  the  Lady 
Margaret  Beaufort,  and  became  the  father  of  King  Henry  VII.,  and 
the  great-grandfather  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

Prologue  to  Act  I. 

In  the  early  Elizabethan  drama  it  was  a  common  practice  for  the 
subject  of  the  play  to  be  explained  at  the  outset  by  a  speaker  called 
'  Chorus '.  Very  often  '  Chorus  '  acted  as  interpreter  of  a  '  dumb- 
show  '  which  foreshadowed  the  action  about  to  be  performed.  Cp. 
Venus  and  Adonis  360— 

"  And  all  this  dumb  play  had  his  acts  made  plain 
With  tears,  which,  chorus-like,  her  eyes  did  rain", 

and  T.  Decker,  Gull's  Hornbook,  chap,  ii.,  "Vou  have  heard  all 
this  while  nothing  but  the  prologue,  and  seen  no  more  but  a  dumb- 
show  ". 

Henry  V.  is  peculiar  in  this  that  'Chorus'  speaks  a  prologue,  not 
merely  at  the  opening  of  the  play,  but  before  every  act.  His  office 
here  is,  first,  to  atone  for  the  impossibility  of  adequately  represent- 
ing great  battles  and  sieges  on  the  stage  by  appealing  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  audience  ("fill  up  our  imperfections  with  your  thoughts"); 
second,  to  bridge  over  intervals  of  time  between  the  acts  with  a 
narration  of  the  main  events  which  have  occurred  in  these  intervals. 
It  does  not  seem  likely  that  in  Henry  I',  any  dumb-show  originally 
accompanied  these  prologues;  although  in  Macready's  revival  of  the 
play  in  1839,  illustrations  or  tableaux  were  given  with  the  prologues 
something  after  the  Elizabethan  manner,  except  that  they  were 
destitute  of  action. 

We  have  an  example  of  a  pre-Shakespearian  play  opened  by  a 
1  Chorus '  in  Marlowe's  Faustus.  The  prologues  of  Henry  }>'.  are, 
however,  so  stirringly  and  poetically  written  that  they  are  distin- 
guished from  all  previous  productions  of  the  same  kind;  and  it  is 
hardly  surprising  to  hear  that  when  Henry  V.  was  produced  in 
Garrick's  day,  that  supreme  actor  chose  for  himself,  not  the  part  of 
King,  but  that  of  '  Chorus'. 


Prologue.]  NOTES.  121 

i.  The  prologue  at  once  strikes  the  key-note  of  the  play,  O  that  it 
were  possible  worthily  to  represent  the  heroic  soldier-king ! 

a  Muse,  &c.  A  poetic  power  which  would  mount  as  fire 
mounts  to  the  highest  regions  of  imagination. 

4.  swelling,  mounting  in  interest.     Cp.  Macbeth,  i.  3.  128 — 

"The  swelling  act 
Of  the  imperial  theme  ". 

5.  should.      In  colloquial   Mod.  Eng.    '  should '  would  only  be 
used  if  the  subject  were  in  the  first  person;   here  we  should  have 
'would'.     Cp.  i.  2.  141,  «. ;  v.  2.  166,  n. 

like  himself,  then  would  the  Harry  of  the  stage,  like  the  real 
Harry  of  history... 

6.  port,  carriage,  bearing. 
Mars,  the  God  of  War. 

7.  Leash'd  in  like  hounds  should  famine,  sword  and  fire, 
&c.      Mr.   Deighton,  after  quoting  from  the  Art  of  Venerie,   "  of 
greyhounds  three  make  a  lease" ,  goes  on  to  say,  "  Leash  then  came 
to  be  used  in  a  more  general  sense,  for  three  things  taken  together, 
especially  for  three  birds,  a  brace  and  a  half".     Compare  i  Henry 
IV.,  ii.  4.  9,  "Sirrah!  I  am  sworn  brother  to  a  leash  of  drawers, 
and  can  call  them  all  by  their  Christian  names,  as  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Francis  ". 

8.  Crouch.     An  example  of  the  poetic  imagination.     The  poet 
having  once  pictured  famine,  sword  and  fire,  as  hounds  in  a  leash, 
thinks  of  them  no  more  as  abstractions,  but  sees  them  '  crouching ' 
at  their  master's  heels.     The  poet  thinks  in  pictures. 

gentles.  Similarly  used  in  addressing  the  audience,  ii.  P.  35, 
Midstimmet  Night's  Dream,  \.  I.  128.  In  the  prologue  to  Mar- 
lowe's Faustus,  \.  7,  we  have  'gentlemen'.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  an  Elizabethan  audience  was  chiefly  male.  Women  of  good 
character  did  not  visit  the  theatre,  except  in  masks. 

9.  flat  unraised  spirits,  dull  faculties  that  cannot  mount  to  the 
heights  of  the  subject  as  the  muse  of  fire  would  do. 

spirits  that  hath.  This  is  the  reading  of  Ff.  I,  2,  3.  In  F.  4 
spirits  was  changed  to  'spirit'.  Some  editors  adopt  this  change, 
others,  as  Mr.  Wright,  read  '  spirits  that  have '.  But  see  Appendix 
IV.  (c). 

10.  scaffold,  stage.    It  is  doubtful  if  the  theatre  where  Henry  V. 
was  produced  was  the  Globe,  as  is  usually  said.     See  Introduction, 
'  The  Elizabethan  Theatre '. 

n.  cockpit:  properly  a  pit  in  which  cocks  were  set  to  fight  one 
another,  a  favourite  Elizabethan  amusement.  Here  used  as  a  con- 
temptuous word  for  the  theatre  (one  theatre  of  Shakespeare's  day 
was  named  the  Cockpit}.  We  keep  the  word  '  pit '  for  the  floor  of 
a  theatre. 


122  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

t a.  vasty,  vast.     See  Glossary. 

may.  In  Mod.  Eng.  '  can  ',  (which  would  also  be  possible  in 
Shakespeare).  In  Mod.  Eng.  a  subtle  distinction  has  grown  up  by 
which  may  implies  that  the  power  to  act  is  dependent  on  some 
external  authority,  where  it  is  in  ourselves  we  use  can.  Notice  the 
difference,  '  Afay  I  do  it?  Yes,  if  you  can'.  Elizabethan  writers 
used  n:ay  in  both  senses.  Cp.  Bacon  (quoted  by  Abbott  307), 
"  For  what  he  may  do  is  of  two  kinds,  what  he  may  do  as  just,  and 
what  he  may  do  as  possible".  In  the  latter  case  we  now  use  fait. 
For  may  in  this  sense  cp.  ii.  2.  loo,  and  for  the  corresponding  case 
of  '  might '  —  '  could  '  cp.  iv.  5.  21. 

13.  wooden   O.     The   Elizabethan   theatres  were   mostly  con- 
structed of  wood,  and  inside,  at  any  rate,  were  circular. 

casques,  helmets. 

14.  affright  the  air.     The  terrible  aspect  of  the  armed  warriors 
is  brought  out  by  an  act  of  poetic  imagination :  their  casques  did 
'affright'  not  only  their  enemies,  but  the  very  atr.     Cp.   i.   I.  48, 
and  iv.  2.  42. 

15.  O,  pardon!     Pardon  us,  for  though  we  cannot  set  Agincourt 
actually  before  you,  we  may  by  our  poor  show  stir  your  imagination 
to  see  it,  just  as  a  badly-made  figure  of  nought  in  the  units'  place 
(the  humblest  position"*  may  in  combination  with  otner  figures  repre- 
sent a  mi 'I lion. 

1 8.  imaginary.  Generally  in  a  passive  sense,  'conceived  in 
imagination  ',  as  line  25 :  here  active,  '  exercising  imagination  ',  as 
in  Sonnet  xxvii.  9 — 

"  My  soul's  imaginary  sight 
Presents  thy  shadow  to  my  sightless  view  ". 

21.  abutting,  nearly  contiguous. 

22.  narrow  ocean,  the  English  Channel.     Cp.  ii.  P.  38,  "the 
narrow  seas  ". 

23.  Piece  out,  make  good. 

24.  Into.     When  you  see  one  man,  imagine  you  see  a  thousand. 
The  small  number  of  men  who  on  the  stage  stood  for  an  army  is 
referred  to  in  iv.  P.  49,  &c.     Cp.  also  Sidney  Apologie  for  Poetiie 
(Shrckburgh),  p.   52,  1.  24,  "two  Armies  flye  in,  represented  with 
foure  swords  and   bucklers,   and  then  what  harde  heart   will  not 
receive  it  for  a  pitched  field?" 

28.  deck,  clothe,  invest  with  royalty. 

29.  jumping  o'er  times.     The  events  of  the  play  extend  from 
1414  to  1420,  so  that  the  audience  were  required  to  imagine  long 
periods  to  have  elapsed  between  several  of  the  acts. 

31.  for  the  which  supply,  for  which  service.  It  was  'Chorus' 
who  before  each  act  was  to  describe  what  had  taken  place  in  the 
interval. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  123 

Scene  I. 

The  scene  serves  two  purposes.  It  shows  us  how  the  heads  of 
the  church,  alarmed  by  a  bill  before  the  Commons  for  the  confisca- 
tion of  church  revenues,  have  tried  to  gain  the  king  to  their  side 
by  enlightening  him  on  his  right  to  the  crown  of  France,  and  pro- 
mising him  a  subsidy  of  unexampled  amount  for  the  prosecution 
of  his  claims.  It  therefore  gives  us  a  first  prospect  of  the  main 
action — the  war — and  puts  the  responsibility  for  it  on  the  king's 
spiritual  advisersi  Secondly,  and  incidentally,  the  audience,  to 
whom  the  wild  Prince  Hal  is  a  familiar  figure,  are  told  of  the  mar- 
vellous change  which  has  been  wrought  in  him  since  his  accession — 
of  his  moral  reformation,  his  genius  for  theology,  statesmanship,  and 
war,  his  charm  of  speech.  And  so  expectation  is  raised  before  the 
king  appears  in  scene  2. 

Shakespeare's  authority  for  the  historical  facts  of  this  scene  is 
the  following  passage  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle:  —  "In  the 
second  yeare  of  his  reigne,  King  Henrie  called  his  high  court 
of  parlement,  the  last  daie  of  Aprill  in  the  towne  of  Leicester, 
in  which  parlement  manie  profitable  lawes  were  concluded,  and 
manie  petitions  mooued,  were  for  that  time  deferred.  Amongst 
which,  one  was,  that  a  bill  exhibited  in  the  parlement  holden 
at  Westminster  in  the  eleuenth  yeare  of  king  Henrie  the  fourth 
(which  by  reason  the  king  was  then  troubled  with  ciuill  dis- 
cord, came  to  none  effect)  might  now  with  good  deliberation  be 
pondered,  and  brought  to  some  good  conclusion.  The  effect  of 
which  supplication  was,  that  the  temporall  lands  deuoutlie  giuen, 
and  disordinatlie  spent  by  religious,  and  other  spirituall  persons, 
should  be  seized  into  the  kings  hands,  sith  the  same  might  suffice 
to  mainteine,  to  the  honor  of  the  king,  and  defense  of  the  realme, 
fifteene  carles,  fifteene  hundred  knights,  six  thousand  and  two  hun- 
dred esquires,  and  a  hundred  almesse-houses,  for  reliefs  onelie  of 
the  poore,  impotent,  and  needie  persons,  and  the  king  to  haue 
cleerelie  to  his  coffers  twentie  thousand  pounds,  with  manie  other 
prouisions  and  values  of  religious  houses,  which  I  passe  ouer. 

"  This  bill  was  much  noted,  and  more  feared  among  the  religious 
sort,  whom  suerlie  it  touched  verie  neere,  and  therefore  to  find 
remedie  against  it,  they  determined  to  assaie  all  waies  to  put  by  and 
ouerthrow  this  bill:  wherein  they  thought  best  to  trie  if  they  might 
mooue  the  kings  mood  with  some  sharpe  inuention,  that  he  should 
not  regard  the  importunate  petitions  of  the  commons." 

i.  self,  same.     See  Glossary. 

3.  like,  likely.     In  full  we  should  have  'was  like  to  have  passed, 
and  had  indeed... passed,  but  that',  &c. 

4.  scambling,  scrambling,  disordered.     See  Glossary. 

5.  question,  discussion,  consideration.     We  still  say  '  out  of  the 
question ', 


104  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  L 

7.  thought  on.     We  say  '  thought  of. 

13.  Full  fifteen  earls,  &c.  Nicolas  in  his  Battle  of  Agincourt 
shows  us  that  all,  high  and  low,  who  served  with  Henry  in  France, 
received  pay.  Every  lord  or  knight  received  so  much  from  the  king 
for  himself,  and  full  wages  for  the  men-at-arms  and  archers  whom  he 
brought  with  him,  according  to  the  following  scale : — 

X.        d 

"  Every  duke  for  himself,  the  day 13  4 

,,      earl  ,,  ,,     6  8 

,,      baron          ,,  ,,     4  o 

,,      knight         ,,  „     2  o 

And  for  every  man-at-arms,  the  day,  12 

,,       archer,  ,,        6" 

The  king  not  being  able  to  pay  all  that  was  needed  in  advance,  gave 
in  many  cases  crown  jewels  as  pledges  to  be  redeemed  later. 

15.   lazars.     See  Glossary. 

lazars  and  weak  age.  Notice  the  coupling  of  a  concrete  and 
an  abstract  word. 

ao.  the  cup  and  all.     In  the  idiomatic  sense  of  and  all— '  the 
cup  as  well  as  its  contents'.     Cp.  Richard  II. ,  iii.  4.  52 — 
"The  weeds     .     .     . 
Are  plucked  up,  root  and  all ". 

22.  grace  and  fair  regard,  favour  and  kind  interest  in  us. 

28.  Consideration,  reflection,  thoughtfulness.  Compared  to  the 
angel  which  drove  Adam  and  Eve  out  of  Eden.  Eden  was  identified 
in  legend  with  Paradise,  the  home  of  the  spirits  of  the  blessed. 

34.  heady  currance,  uncontrolled  sweep.     For  heady,  cp.  iii.  3. 
32,  and  Glossary,  '  vasty '. 

scouring  faults,  as  a  river  in  full  stream  scours  its  banks. 

35.  Nor  never,  nor  ever.     The  repeated  negative  is  common  in 
older  English.     Cp.  ii.  2.  23. 

Hydra-headed,  many-headed.  The  Hydra  of  Lerna  had 
nine  heads,  and  when  one  was  struck  off,  two  new  ones  grew  at 
once  in  its  place.  It  was  eventually  conquered  by  Hercules. 

36.  So  soon... and  all  at  once,  so  soon  and  instantaneously, 
his.     See  Glossary,  '»'/'. 

39.  all-admiring,  completely  admiring.  Cp.  iv.  P.  38,  and 
Timon,  i.  I.  139,  "all  afire". 

42.  it,  refers  generally  to  commonwealth  affairs  considered  as  a 
single  idea. 

43.  List,  listen  to.     Cp.  Lear,  v.  3.  181,  "list  a  brief  tale". 
45.  any  cause  of  policy,  any  matter  of  statesmanship. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  125 

46.  Gordian  knot,  the  knot  of  Gordium  in  Phrygia,  of  which  an 
oracle  declared  that  whoever  untied  it  should  rule  over  all  Asia. 
Alexander  the  Great  cut  it  with  his  sword  (B.C.  334)  and  applied  the 
oracle  to  himself. 

The  Gordian  knot  of  it,  the  most  hopeless  difficulty. 

47.  Familiar,  as  though  it  were  as  ordinary  a  thing  to  untie  as  his 
garter. 

that,  so  that.  The  use  of  that  without  so  to  introduce  a  con- 
secutive clause  or  consequence  is  very  common  in  Shakespeare. 
Cp.  i.  2.  153;  iv.  P.  6,  &c. 

48.  a  charter'd  libertine.     Libertine  has  its  original  meaning, 
'  freeman ',  so  the  phrase  means  '  the  air  which  is  free  by  charter  or 
legal  right'.     Cp.  As  You  Like  It,  ii.  7.  48— 

"  I  must  have  liberty 
Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind, 
To  blow  on  whom  I  please  ". 

49.  wonder.     Perhaps,  as  Mr.  Staunton  suggested,  Shakespeare 
wrote  wand'rer.     If  so,  the  fancy  of  1.  48  is  continued. 

51.  In  general  an  art  means  the  application  of  a  theory  to  practice, 
but  in  Henry's  case  it  is  the  practical  business  of  life  which  has 
taught  him  the  theory.  This  is  wonderful  to  us,  for  the  life  he  lived 
was  one  of  frivolity,  and  unbroken,  as  it  seemed,  by  moments  of 
serious  reflection. 

53.  Which.     The  construction  is  rather  loose. 

his  grace,  his  majesty.  Cp.  line  78  below.  The  title  is  now 
given  to  dukes  and  archbishops,  but  has  ceased  to  be  used  of  the 
sovereign. 

54.  addiction,  inclination.     Cp.  Othello,  ii.  2.  7,  "  to  what  sport 
and  revels  his  addiction  leads  him  ". 

57.  And  (there  was)  never  noted.  For  the  ellipsis,  cp.  v.  P. 
34,  »• 

59.  popularity,  intercourse  with  the  common  people.  Cp.  / 
Henry  IV.,  iii.  2.  69 — 

"Grew  a  companion  to  the  common  streets, 
Enfeoffed  himself  (i.e.  surrendered  himself)  to  popularity". 

60-62.  The  strawberry... quality.  It  has  been  pointed  out  by 
Mr.  Forbes  that  there  is  a  similar  passage  to  this  in  Florio's  translation 
of  Montaigne's  Essays  (p.  581) :  "  If  it  hapned  (as  some  gardners  say) 
that  those  Roses  and  Violets  are  ever  the  sweeter  &  more  odoriferous 
that  grow  neere  vnder  Garlike  and  Onions,  forsomuch  as  they  suck 
and  draw  all  the  ill -sau ours  of  the  ground  vnto  them — ".  Florio's 
translation  of  Montaigne  is  one  of  the  few  books  Shakespeare  is 
known  to  have  possessed,  his  copy  containing  his  autograph  being 
still  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  He  borrows  a  passage  from 


126  KING    HKNRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  1. 

it  in  the  Tempest,  ii.  i.  142-159.    This  makes  it  not  unlikely  that 
here  also  he  had  Montaigne  in  mind. 

63.  The  archbishop  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Henry  had  some- 
how or  other  drawn  his  theories  of  life  from  his  practical  experiences, 
although  these  had  been  of  such  a  kind  that  it  was  hard  to  see  how 
he  could  turn  them  to  such  good  account,  especially  as  he  was  never 
known  to  spend  any  of  his  time  in  private  meditation.     The  Bishop 
of  Ely  answers  that  the  prince's  powers  of  reflection  had  been  grow- 
ing secretly  even  while  the  world  saw  only  the  wildness  of  his  out- 
ward behaviour,  just  as  the  strawberry  was  said  to  flourish  best  when 
growing  under  the  nettle,  and  grass  to  grow  fastest  under  cover  of 
night.     (Such  illustrations  from  false  or  true  natural  history  abound 
in  Lyly's  Euphues  (see  VV.   Raleigh,  English  Novel,  p.  37).     This 
book  set  a  fashion  in  literary  style  by  which  even  Shakespeare  was 
affected. ) 

Hazlitt  makes  the  suggestive  remark,  "It has  sometimes  occurred 
to  us  that  Shakspeare,  in  describing  the  reformation  of  the  prince, 
might  have  had  an  eye  to  himself". 

64.  which,  i.e.  his  contemplation,  or  reflective  power. 

66.  crescive  in  his  faculty,  i.e.  in  regard  to  its  natural  power, 
capable  of  growth.     Crescive  is  from  Lat.  fresco,  I  grow, 
his.     See  Glossary,  '  it '. 

73.  swaying  more  upon  our  part,  inclining  more  to  our  side. 

74.  exhibitors,  the  movers  or  introducers  of  a  bill.     Holinshed, 
in  the  passage  quoted  in  the  introduction  to  this  scene,  speaks  of  the 
earlier  bill  as  "exhibited  in  the  parlement",  &c. 

76.  Upon,  upon  the  holding  of,  (cp.  1.  91,  ft.)  or  'as  a  result  of. 
In  the  passage  of  Holinshed's  Chronicle,  which  Shakespeare  is 
following,  the  archbishop  represents  convocation  as  having  already 
voted  the  money:  "And  to  the  intent  his  louing  chapleins  and 
obedient  subiects  of  the  spiritualtie  might  shew  themselues  willing 
and  desirous  to  aid  his  maiestie,  for  the  recouerie  of  his  ancient  right 
and  true  inheritance,  the  archbishop  declared  that  in  their  spirituall 
couuocacion,  they  had  granted  to  his  highnese  such  a  summe  of 
monie  as  neuer  by  no  spirituall  persons  was  to  any  prince  before 
those  daies  giuen  or  advanced  ". 

78.  open'd,  set  forth. 

81.  part  withal,  part  with.  Withal  is  used  for  with,  at  the  end 
of  a  sentence.  Cp.  iii.  5.  12;  v.  2.  227. 

86.  severals,  particulars.     Cp.  Troilus,  \.  3.  180,  "severals  and 
generals";  Lear,  iii.  7.  65,  "all  cruels  ". 

unhidden  passages,  the  clear  ard   indisputable  courses  by 
which  his  titles  descended. 

87.  some  certain.     For  this  redundant  expression  cp.  i.  2.  247. 

88.  seat,  throne.     Cp.  i.  2.  269. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  127 

gi.  upon  that  instant,  at  that  instant.  The  phrase  'once 
upon  a  time'  is  a  relic  of  this  temporal  use  of  upon,  which  is  common 
in  Shakespeare. 

Scene  2. 

The  expectation  of  the  audience  having  been  raised  by  the  first 
scene,  the  dramatist  now  brings  the  soldier-king  before  them. 
Henry  already  has  in  view  the  assertion  of  his  claim  to  the  throne  of 
France,  but  he  is  troubled  with  a  difficulty.  Is  his  claim  barred,  as 
the  French  maintain,  by  the  Salic  law?  He  summons  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury.  He  warns  him  of  the  sin  committed  by  those 
who  make  unjust  war,  and  urges  him  on  his  conscience  to  tell  the 
truth.  There  is  a  seriousness  in  Henry's  words  which  shows  the 
audience  that  the  account  in  the  previous  scene  of  the  change  which 
has  been  brought  about  in  him  is  a  true  one.  The  archbishop 
argues  with  seeming  conclusiveness  that  the  objection  to  Henry's 
claim  based  on  the  Salic  law  is  perfectly  groundless,  and  urges  him 
to  stand  for  his  own.  The  Bishop  of  Ely,  Exeter,  and  Westmore- 
land join  in  inciting  him  to  war,  and  the  archbishop,  on  behalf  of 
the  clergy,  promises  him  an  unexampled  subsidy.  Even  so  Henry  is 
not  carried  away.  Looking  at  the  matter  all  round,  he  remembers 
the  danger  of  a  Scotch  invasion  if  he  and  his  army  should  be  occupied 
in  France.  This  apprehension  is  not  suggested  to  him  by  his 
advisers:  it  is  the  king  himself  who  thinks  first  of  his  people's 
danger.  The  objection  is  removed  by  Exeter  and  the  archbishop, 
and  then  Henry's  mind  is  made  up.  He  is  resolved,  and  his  decision 
once  made,  it  is  announced  in  words  of  determination,  which  show 
that  from  that  moment  he  will  go  through  to  the  end.  The  only 
question  now  is  victory  or  death. 

The  French  ambassadors  are  called  in.  When  they  ask  if  they 
are  to  give  their  message  frankly,  he  tells  them  with  dignity  to  do  so. 
'  He  is  a  Christian  king,  and  he  has  his  passions  under  complete  con- 
trol.' It  appears  from  the  ambassadors'  speech  that  their  master, 
the  Dauphin,  completely  misunderstands  Henry's  character,  treats 
him  as  a  frivolous  boy,  and  in  answer  to  his  claim  to  certain  French 
Duchies,  sends  him  a  present  of  tennis  balls.  Henry  resents  the 
insult  in  a  tone  of  fiery  scorn,  promises  that  the  Dauphin  will  bitterly 
rue  his  jest,  and  yet  when  he  is  drawn  into  what  has  the  sound  of 
vaunting,  recollects  himself  and  adds — 

"  But  this  lies  all  within  the  will  of  God, 
To  whom  I  do  appeal ". 

When  the  ambassadors  have  been  dismissed,  Henry  urges  his 
advisers  to  have  the  preparations  for  'the  wars'  made  with  speed 
and  careful  forethought,  and  so  the  first  act  ends. 

The  audience  feel  they  have  seen  in  this  king  of  England  a 
man  who  comes  very  close  to  an  Englishman's  ideal.  He  is  no 
Hamlet  indeed,  torturing  his  conscience  about  the  grounds  of  his 


128  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

actions :  he  has  no  thought  of  probing  deeper  into  right  and  wrong 
than  any  other  upright  man  of  his  age.  What  the  archbishop 
approves  is  good  enough  for  him,  although  he  will  make  no  war 
without  such  sanction.  But  when  once  satisfied  that  his  cause  is 
right,  and  that  his  people  at  home  will  not  suffer  by  it,  he  shows 
himself  the  true  man  of  action — quick  of  decision,  attentive  to 
details,  naturally  taking  the  lead,  receiving  affronts  with  a  spirit 
which  never  forgets  dignity,  resolute  to  go  through  to  the  very  end 
with  what  his  conscience  has  approved  as  right. 

2.  in  presence,  merely  =  present.  Cp.  Richard  II.,  ii.  4.  62, 
"  you  were  in  presence  then  ". 

4.  cousin.    See  note  on  Dramatis  Personae,  'Westmoreland'. 

4,  5.  we  would  be  resolved  .  .of,  we  would  have  our  mind  cleared 
up  in  regard  to... 

10.  religiously,  scrupulously. 

xa.  Or... or,  either... or,  cp.  1.  225  below. 

14.  fashion,  shape,  accommodate, 
reading,  interpretation. 

15.  nicely.     See  Glossary. 

charge,  burden.  Cp.  line  283.  The  lines  may  be  paraphrased 
— '  Or  by  subtle  reasoning  lay  upon  your  soul,  which  can  naturally 
discern  right  and  wrong,  a  burden  of  sin,  by  setting  forth  baseless 
claims  which,  viewed  in  a  colourless  light,  do  not  agree  with  the 
truth '. 

16.  With,  expressing  the  cause.     Cp.  Twelfth  Night,  iii.  4.  336, 
"  this  comes  with  seeking  you". 

miscreate.    Cp.  ii.  2.  31,  note. 

21.   impawn,  pledge,  involve.    See  Glossary,  pioners. 

25.  whose  guiltless  drops  :  i.e.  every  drop  of  innocent  blood 
shed  cries  out  against  him  whose  wrongs  (here  —  wrong-doings)  cause 
the  sharpening  of  those  swords  which  work  such  havoc. 

27.  28.  whose  wrongs   gives  edge   unto   the   swords   that 
makes,  &c.     For  'gives'  and  'makes',   we  should  expect  'give', 
'make',  and  the  Globe  Shakespeare  (1891)  so  reads.     But  all  the  Ff. 
give  the  sing,    form  for  both  verbs,  although   the  later  Ff.   alter 
'  wrongs '  to  '  wrong ',  which  is  almost  certainly  not  what  Shake- 
speare wrote.    The  lines  do  not  occur  in  the  Qq.     See  Appendix  IV 

28.  brief  mortality,  human  life,  which  is  short  at  the  best. 

29.  Under  this  conjuration,  subject  to  this  my  solemn  appeal. 

32.  as  sin  with  baptism,  as  the  taint  of  original  sin  inherited 
from  Adam  is  washed  away  by  baptism. 

36.  To  make.  An  example  of  the  gerund  or  dative  of  the  act. 
infinitive  used  after  a  noun.  Cp.  'a  house  to  let'.  In  modern 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  129 

English  the  form  '  to  be  made,  to  be  let '  is  becoming  more  usual. 
Cp.  1.  50,  and  iv.  2.  32. 

40.  glose,  interpret.     See  Glossary. 

42.   female  bar,  bar  against  females. 

50.  to  wit.  Gerund.  Properly  '  to  know ',  hence  =  '  by  which  is 
to  be  understood ',  '  that  is  to  say '.  See  Glossary,  '  wots '. 

53.  Meisen,  now  Meissen,  famous  as  the  place  where  the  so- 
called  Dresden  china  is  made. 

58.  defunction,  death,  from  Lat.  defungor,  I  accomplish,  de- 
functus,  (i)  one  who  has  completed  his  task,  (2)  one  who  has  ended 
life. 

66.  heir  general,   heir  at  law,  one  who  inherits   whether  his 
descent  be  through  the  male  or  the  female.      In   such    half-legal 
phrases  the  French  custom  of  putting  the  adjective  after  the  noun 
was  often  retained.     Cp.  1.  70,  heir  male. 

67.  The  line  illustrates  the  change  which  has  taken  place  since 
Shakespeare's  time  in  the  use  of  prepositions  in  English.    We  should 
say,  '  From  Blithild,  who  was  daughter  of  King  Clothair'.     In  1.  76 
we  have  "son  to  Lewis",  in  1.  77,  "son  of  Charles". 

72.  A  difficult  line.  It  seems  best  to  take  find  —  provide,  as  we 
say,  'The  master  found  his  servant  in  clothes  ',  'The  lodgings  cost  a 
pound  a  week,  all  found '.  This  sense  of  '  find ',  though  apparently 
not  occurring  elsewhere  in  Shakespeare,  is  met  with  in  Chaucer,  Sir 
Thomas  More,  aud  other  early  writers, 
shows,  appearances. 

74.  Convey'd  himself,  passed  himself  off.    The  expression  comes 
bodily  from  Holinshed. 

75.  "  By  Charles  the  Great  is  meant  the  Emperor  Charlemagne: 
Charlemain  is  Charles  the  Bald  " — Ritson. 

77.  Lewis  the  Tenth,  should  be  Lewis  the  Ninth  (St.  Louis). 
The  error  is  due  to  Holinshed. 

82.  lineal  of,  in  the  line  of  descent  from. 

88.  King  Lewis  his.     The  possessive   termination  of  Lewis's 
(Lewises]  is  here  represented  by  the  pronoun  his,  as  is  common  in 
Elizabethan  English  in  the  case  of  monosyllabic  proper  names  in  s. 
Cp.  iHenry  VI.,  L  2. 1,  "Mars his";  iii.  2.  123,  "Charles his".    Many 
people  no  doubt  were  under  the  false  impression  that  the  possessive 
es  or  s  was  a  corruption  of  '  his ',  and  that  in  writing  his  they  were 
merely  giving  the  fuller  form.     ('  Lewis'  in  Shakespeare  is  always  a 
monosyllable. ) 

89.  hold  —  to  hold  good.    Cp.  Measure  for  Measure,  ii.  I.  254,  "If 
this  law  hold  in  Vienna  ten  year  ". 

91.  Howbeit,  although. 

93.  hide   them,    hide   themselves.      Them,    him,    me,    &c.,    are 
(M178)  I 


ijo  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

frequently  used  as  reflexives  where  we  require  themselves,  himselft 
myself,  &.C.     Cp.  1.  275  below;  ii.  2.  77,  177. 

93.  hide  them  in  a  net,  bury  themselves  in  a  maze  of  contradic- 
tions. 

94.  imbar.     F.  I,  2,  imbarre;  F.  3,  4,  imbar\  Q.  i,  2,  imbace-, 
Q.  3,  embrace.     Schmidt  takes  the  line  to  mean,  '  Than  to  reject 
fully  their  own  false  titles.'     Mr.  Wright  takes  '  iml»r  '  =  '  bar  in, 
defend  '.     'They  prefer  to  involve  themselves  in  contradictions  rather 
than  thoroughly  to  defend  their  own  titles.'     I  can  hardly  believe 
that    Shakespeare   would    have   used    '  bar '  and    '  imbur '  so   near 
together  in  opposite  senses,  and  I  believe  the  passage  to  be  corrupt. 
Warburton  suggested  '  imbare '  — '  to  lay  bare '. 

The  last  three  lines  of  this  speech  are  an  addition  made  by  Shake- 
speare to  Holinshed's  report  of  the  speech,  which  he  has  followed 
almost  word  for  word  down  to  this  point.  I  give  the  continuation 
of  Holinshed's  account  as  it  is  of  great  interest  to  observe  how 
Shakespeare  handled  it;  note  especially  (l)  the  reality  he  gives  to 
the  scene  by  introducing  interruptions  of  the  speech,  (2)  his  giving 
to  Henry  the  first  thought  of  a  possible  danger  from  Scotland. 

"  So  that  more  cleere  than  the  sunne  it  openlie  appearelh,  that 
the  title  of  king  Pepin,  the  claiine  of  Hugh  Capet,  the  possession  of 
Lewes,  yea  and  the  French  kings  to  this  daie,  are  deriued  and 
conueied  from  the  heire  female,  though  they  would  vnder  the  colour 
of  such  a  faincd  law,  barre  the  kings  and  princes  of  this  realme  of 
England  of  their  right  and  lawfull  inheritance. 

"The  archbishop  further  alledged  out  of  the  booke  of  Numbers 
this  saieng:  When  a  man  dieth  without  a  sonne,  let  the  inheritance 
descend  to  his  daughter.  At  length,  hauing  said  sufficientlie  for  the 
proofe  of  the  kings  iust  and  lawfull  title  to  the  crowne  of  France, 
he  exhorted  him  to  aduance  foorth  his  banner  to  fight  for  his  right, 
to  conquer  his  inheritance,  to  spare  neither  blood,  sword,  nor  fire, 
sith  his  warre  was  iust,  his  cause  good,  and  his  claime  true.  And  to 
the  intent  his  louing  chapleins  and  obedient  subiects  of  the  spiritual- 
tie  might  shew  themselues  willing  and  desirous  to  aid  his  maiestie, 
for  the  recouerie  of  his  ancient  right  and  true  inheritance,  the  arch- 
bishop declared  tnat  in  their  spiritual!  conuocation,  they  had  granted 
to  his  highnesse  such  a  summe  of  monie,  as  neuer  by  no  spirituall 
persons  was  to  any  prince  before  those  daies  giuen  or  advanced. 

"When  the  archbishop  had  ended  his  prepared  tale,  Rafe  Neuill 
earle  of  Westmerland,  and  as  then  lord  Warden  of  the  marches 
against  Scotland,  vnderstanding  that  the  king  vpon  a  couragious 
desire  to  recouer  his  right  in  France,  would  suerlie  take  the  wars  in 
hand,  thought  good  to  mooue  the  king  to  begin  first  with  Scotland, 
and  therevpon  declared  how  easie  it  should  be  to  make  a  conquest 
there,  and  how  greatlie  the  same  should  further  his  wished  purpose 
for  the  subduing  of  the  Frenchmen,  concluding  the  summe  of  his  tale 
with  this  old  saieng:  that  Who  so  "will  France  win,  must  with 
Scotland  first  begin." 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  131 

Fron,  line  169  to  the  incident  of  the  tennis  balls  Shakespeare  has 
nothing  in  Holinshed  to  follow. 

105.  your  great-uncle's,  Edward  the  Black  Prince.  The 
sign  of  the  possessive  case  is  affixed  to  only  one  of  the  two  expres- 
sions in  apposition.  Cp.  S.  Matt.,  xiv.  3  (A. V.),  "for  Herodias'  sake, 
his  brother  Philip's  wife  ". 

107.  making  defeat.     Cp.  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  598— 

"Upon  whose  property  and  most  dear  life 
A  damn'd  defeat  was  made  ". 

Defeat  in  Shakespeare  means  undoing,  ruin.     Cp.  1.  213  below. 
The  modern  sense  is  more  restricted. 

108.  Whiles.     See  Glossary.     The  passage  is  based  on  Holin- 
shed's  account  of  the  battle  of  Cressy. 

in.  entertain,  occupy. 

113.  another,  the  other.     Cp.  our  use,  '  Love  one  another'. 

114.  cold  for  action,  cold  in  respect  of  action.     Cp.  Macbeth, 
'•  5-  37>  "dead  for  breath". 

1 18.  renowned.  The  verb  is  also  used  in  Twelfth  Night,  iii.  3.  24, 
"  the  things  of  fame  that  do  renown  this  city". 

119.  Runs.     See  Appendix  IV.  (a). 

1 20.  Henry  was  now  in  his  twenty-seventh  year. 

126.  The  words  your  highness  are  merely  a  variation  of  your  grace 
in  the  line  above.  If  a  stress  is  laid  on  hath  (line  126)  the  sense  is 
perfectly  plain. 

128.  The  nobles,  though  actually  in  England,  are  in  heart  already 
campaigning  in  France. 

132.  spiritualty,  clergy.  The  clergy  had  the  right  of  voting  their 
own  taxes  in  convocation. 

137.  lay  down  our  proportions,  calculate  our  forces.     On  lay 
down  in  this  sense  cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  i.  3.  35 — 

' "  it  never  yet  did  hurt 
To  lay  down  likelihoods  and  forms  of  hope  ". 

On  proportions,  cp.  1.  304  below,  and  ii.  4.  45. 

138.  make  road,  make  inroad.     Cp.  Coriolamis,  iii.  I.  5 — 
"  Ready,  when  time  shall  prompt  them,  to  make  road 

Upon 's  again  ". 

139.  With  all  advantages,  with  everything  in  their  favour. 

140.  marches,  borders. 

141.  For   Shall  be  we  should  say  will  be,  as  in  line   146  we 
should  say  you  will  read,  though  in  both  passages  if  the  verb  was  in 
the  first  person  we  should  use  shall.     Cp.  i.   P.  5,  note;  ii.  2.  2. 


132  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

Abbott  says,  " Shall''  (originally  =  ought,  must)  "was  used  by  the 
Elizabethan  authors  with  all  three  persons  to  denote  inevitable 
tuturity  without  reference  to  '  will '  (desire) ''.  "  Later  a  reluctance 
to  apply  a  word  meaning  necessity,  and  implying  compulsion,  to  a 
person  addressed  (second  person)  or  spoken  of  (third  person)  caused 
post-Elizabethan  writers  to  substitute  will  for  shall  with  respect  to 
the  second  and  third  persons,  even  where  no  will  at  all,  i.e.  no  pur- 
pose is  expressed,  but  only  futurity."  At  the  present  time  there  is 
a  tendency  to  use  will,  woulJ,  even  with  the  first  person,  in  cer- 
tain phrases,  for  shall,  should:  '  I  will  be  very  glad  ,  'I  would  be 
glad ',  &c. 

143.  coursing  snatchers,  swift-riding  marauders. 

144.  intcndment,  collective  purpose,  combined  attack. 

For  main  =  general,  referring  to  all,  cp.  Henry  I'///.,  iv.  I.  31  — 

"  by  the  main  assent 
Of  all  these  learned  men  she  was  divorced  ". 

145.  still,  ever.     In  reading  Shakespeare  it  is  always  necessary 
to  remember  this  meaning  of  the  word  still. 

146.  shall.     See  note  on  line  141  above. 

148.  unfurnish'd,  unprovided  with  the  means  of  defence. 

149.  into  a  breach,  into  a  breach  in  a  sea-wall. 

150.  brim,  used  as  an  adjective  and  coupled  with  ample.     '  With 
a  force  lull  to  overflowing.' 

151.  Galling,  blistering,  with  reference  to  hot  which  follows, 
gleaned,  left  bare  of  its  defenders. 

assays,  attacks.     Assay  is  a  variant  form  (generally  used  by 
Shakespeare)  of  the  word  essay  (Fr.  essai). 

153.  That.     See  i.  i.  47,  «. 

154.  shook.     In  Shakespeare,  this,  which  is  properly  the  form  of 
the  past  tense,  is  used  instead  of  shaken  for  the  past  part.    Cp.  sfvke, 
ii.  I.  1 13.    In  ii.  I    108  we  have  the  weak  form  '  shaked  '.     In  these 
cases  modern  English  is  more  conservative  than  Elizabethan  English 
was. 

ill  neighbourhood.      As  neighbourhood  in  v.   2.  332  means 
neighbourliness,  ill  neighbourhood  here  means  uitneighbourlituss. 

155.  fear'd,  frightened.     This  sense  of  the  verb  fear  is  common 
in  Shakespeare.     Cp.  Merchant  of  I'enice,  ii.  I.  9 — 

"  this  aspect  of  mine 
Hath  fear'd  the  valiant ". 

156.  exampled,  illustrated. 

160.   impounded,   properly,  put  in  a  pound,  like  cattle  found 
straying  on  a  high-road. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  133 

161.  The  King  of  Scots.  David  Bruce,  who  during  King 
Edward  II I. 's  absence  in  France  was  taken  prisoner  at  Nevill's 
Cross,  Oct.  17,  1346,  by  the  English  army  under  Queen  Philippa. 
"  He  was  actually  captured  by  John  Copland,  who  in  the  play  of 
Edward  III.  is  represented  as  taking  his  prisoner  over  to  France  to 
deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  the  king,  having  refused  to  give  him 
up  on  the  queen's  demand.  In  Holinshed's  Chronicle  Copland  is 
said  to  have  gone  over  to  France,  but  not  to  have  taken  his  prisoner 
with  him  "  (Wright). 

163.  her   chronicle.      Johnson's  conjecture,  adopted   first    by 
Capell.     The  Ff.  have  '  their  chronicle  '. 

164.  ooze,  soft  mud  at  the  bottom  of  water. 

165.  sumless,  not  to  be  summed  or  valued,  inestimable, 
treasuries,  treasures.     This  is  the  usual  meaning  of  the  word 

in  Shakespeare. 

1 66.  The  speech  is  ascribed  to  Westmoreland  on  the  authority  of 
Holinshed.    The  Ff.  give  it  to  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  the  Qq.  to  'a  lord'. 

169.  in  prey,  engaged  upon  prey.  Cp.  Lear,  iii.  4.  97,  '  dog  in 
madness,  lion  in  prey ',  and  our  phrase  '  to  be  in  love '. 

173.  tear.  This  is  the  reading  of  Rowe's  second  edition;  Ff. 
'  tame ' ;  Qq.  '  spoyle '. 

havoc,  destroy.  Elsewhere  in  Shakespeare  the  word  only 
occurs  as  a  noun  —  '  indiscriminate  destruction'. 

175.  crush'd.  So  the  Ff.  The  Qq.  give  '  curst '.  Wright  and 
Schmidt  interpret  crush'd  as  strained,  forced.  Knight  explains  the 
passage,  "The  necessity  alleged  by  Westmoreland  is  overpowered, 
crush'd,  by  the  argument  that  we  have  '  locks '  and  '  pretty  traps ', 
so  that  it  does  not  follow  '  the  cat  must  stay  at  home' ' . 

179.  advised,  thoughtful,  wise. 

181.  Put   into  parts.     Government   consists  of  high  and  low 
and  lower,  yet  like  the  different  voices  in  a  part  song,  if  harmonized 
(' put  into  parts'),  it  keeps  in  concord. 

consent,  would  probably  be  better  written  'concent'  (LaL 
concentus,  '  a  singing  together ').  By  a  confusion  with  consent  (Lat. 
consentire,  '  to  agree ' ),  the  former  word,  though  retaining  its  natural 
associations,  was  often  spelt  as  here  with  an  s.  (See  Murray's 
New  English  Dictionary.) 

182.  Congreeing.    Shakespeare  apparently  coined  the  word  out 
of  agreeing  and  congruing.     The  line  must  mean  '  agreeing  or  com- 
bining in  a  full  and  natural  cadence '. 

full... close,  perfect  cadence.  Close  also  is  a  technical  term 
in  music.  Cp.  Richard  II.,  i.  12 — 

"  music  at  the  close, 

As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  last ". 
The  Qq.  have  "  Congrueth  in  a  mutuall  consent ". 


134  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

183.  "On  this  account  it  has  been  divinely  ordained  that  man's 
estate  should  be  divided  into  various  functions,  so  that  there  should 
be  a  continual  stimulus  to  effort:  the  end  of  all  being  obedience." 

187.  A  resemblance  has  been  pointed  out  by  Malone  between  this 
passage  and  one  in  Lyly's  Enphues. 

The  passage  illustrates  the  exuberance  of  Shakespeare's  mind, 
which  led  him  often  to  expand  a  thought  or  comparison,  as  here, 
for  its  own  sake  without  regard  to  the  question  of  dramatic  propriety. 
We  cannot  imagine  even  an  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  introducing 
a  long  disquisition  on  bees  into  a  political  discussion,  though  he 
might  passingly  refer  to  them  in  support  of  his  argument.  Accord- 
ingly such  a  passage,  though  interesting  and  beautiful  in  itself,  is 
dramatically  faulty.  Delivered  on  the  stage  it  would  diminish  that 
sense  of  reality  which  it  is  the  aim  of  the  dramatist  to  produce;  in 
common  phrase,  it  would  'drag'. 

188.  rule,  precept.     The  bees,  setting  forth  to  men  a  precept  of 
nature,  enjoin  on  them  the  '  act '  or  practical  observance  of  order. 

190.  of  sorts,  of  different  ranks.     Cp.  iv.  7.  126,  «.,  and  Titus 
Andronictis,  i.  I.  230 — 

"  With  voices  and  applause  of  every  sort, 
Patricians  and  plebeians  ". 

191.  correct,  inflict  punishment. 

192.  venture  trade.     For  to  'venture  trade  '  we  should  now  say 
to  '  speculate  in  trade '.     In  the  sixteenth  century  merchants  were 
called  'merchant  adventurers'.    Cp.  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  ii.  I.  328 — 

"  now  I  play  a  merchant's  part 
And  venture  madly  on  a  desperate  mart ". 

194.  Make  boot,  make  booty.  Boot  is  used  elsewhere  in  Shake- 
jpeare  in  this  sense. 

196.  tent-royal.     On  the  position  of  the  adjective  see  note  on 
line  66  above. 

197.  majesty.     Ft",  majesties,   probably  a  misprint,  though  Mr. 
Stone  retains  the  plural  and  understands  it  to  mean  '  kingly  occupa- 
tions '. 

198.  The  epithets  singing,  civil,  poor  seem  to  indicate  that  these 
classes  among  the  bees  correspond  among  men  to  artists  and  handi- 
craftsmen,   to   the   middle   or    bourgeois    class,    and    to   unskilled 
labourers  respectively. 

200.  crowding,  pushing,  squeezing.  Crowd  is  used  as  an  active 
verb  in  Shakespeare  more  often  than  as  a  neuter. 

202.  sad-eyed.     Sad  here  =  grave,  sober.     Cp.  iv.  I.  285. 

203.  Executors,  executioners.    Where  Shakespeare  uses  the  word 
=  'performer'  (in  general)  or—  'the  administrator  of  a  will',  he  accents 
it  executor.     Cp.  iv.  3.  51. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  135 

207.  loosed  several  ways,  shot  from  different  directions. 

210.  dial's,  sun-dial's. 

211.  It  is  tempting  to  take  once  as  Capell  did  =  all  at  one  time, 
simultaneously;  but  there  seems  to  be  no  other  example  of  such  a 
use  in  Shakespeare. 

212.  End.     Pope's  correction.     The  Folios  have  and. 

212,  213.  well  borne  without  defeat,  well  carried  out  without 
failure.  This  use  of  the  verb  bear  is  common  in  Shakespeare.  Cp. 
2  Henry  IV. ,  iv.  4.  88,  ' '  the  manner  how  this  action  hath  been  borne  '. 

For  defeat  see  note  to  line  107  above. 

216.  withal,  with  it,  therewith.     Cp.  Jtfacbeth,  ii.  2.  55,  56 — 

"If  he  do  bleed, 
I  '11  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal " 

220.  The  name  of  hardiness  and  policy,  the  reputation  for 
courage  and  wisdom. 

221.  Dauphin.     The  word  is  always  spelt  Dolphin  in  the  Ff. 
and  Qq. 

222.  resolved.     See  note  on  line  4  above. 

224.  to  our  awe,  to  awe  of  us.     The  objective  genitive.     Cp. 
Richard  II. ,  i.  I.  l 18,  "  Now,  by  my  sceptre's  awe,  I  make  a  vow  ", 
on  which  Mr.  Herford  remarks,  "The  objective  genitive  with  fear, 
awe  was  very  common  from  O.  E.  (i.e.  Old  English  or  Anglo-Saxon) 
onwards,  and  was  not  obsolete  in  the  sixteenth  century... So... in 
Gorboduc   (1563),    'with   aged   fathers  awe'  —'  with  awe  of  aged 
father'".     Cp.  also  ii.  2.  43,  46. 

We  have  here  in  succession  three  statements  of  an  alternative,  but 
they  are  not  all  strictly  parallel. 

1 I )  We  will  subdue  France  or  destroy  her. 

(2)  We  will  rule  in  France  or  die  and  be  forgotten. 

(3)  We  will  be  renowned  or  forgotten  utterly. 

225.  or  there  we  '11  sit.     Or  here  is  stressed,  as  it  introduces  the 
former  of  two  alternatives  and  directs  the  hearer's  mind  to  expect  the 
other.     In  line  230  the  first  alternative  is  introduced  by  either,  in 
line  224  the  sign  of  the  first  alternative  was  omitted. 

226.  empery,  sovereignty,  empire.     The  forms  empery  and  em- 
pire are  both  used  by  Shakespeare. 

227.  her  almost  kingly  dukedoms.     "  The  holders  of  the  fiefs 
of  Flanders,  Champagne,   Normandy,  Burgundy,  Aquitaine,  Tou- 
louse, were  called  peers  of  France,  and  were  practically  independ- 
ent "  (Longman,  Ed-ward  III.,  i.  98). 

228.  urn,  used  loosely  hi  grave.   Shakespeare  here  puts  in  Henry's 
mouth  an  expression  derived  from   Roman  literature.     At  Rome 
burial  and  cremation  were  in  use  simultaneously. 


136  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  I. 

232.  Like   Turkish  mute.      It  was  the  custom  in  Turkey  to 
employ  tongueless  or  dumb  persons  in  certain  positions  demanding 
secrecy. 

233.  worshipp'd,  honoured. 

a  waxen  epitaph.  Explained  by  Gifford  as  a  eulogy  affixed 
to  the  grave  with  wax.  In  Lngland  till  the  present  century  it  was 
common  to  pin  poetical  elegies,  <&c. ,  to  the  hearse  of  a  deceased  per- 
son, especially  at  the  universities.  For  the  fixing  of  a  paper  by  wax 
cp.  Julius  Casar,  i.  3.  145 — 

"set  this  up  with  wax 
Upon  old  Brutus'  statue". 

Whether  the  words  '  waxen  epitaph  '  can  mean  '  an  epitaph  fastened 
by  wax '  is,  however,  very  doubtful.  If  there  were  anything  in 
Donee's  suggestion  that  waxen  is  the  p.p.  of  the  verb  'to  wax'  = 
grow,  and  means  '  swollen,  turgid ',  we  might  compare  '  farced  title' 
(iv.  I.  247).  The  Qq.  have  'paper  epitaph'. 

238.   Freely,  openly,  frankly. 
*39-  Cp.  Richard  III.,  iii.  5.  93— 

"  But  touch  this  sparingly,  as  't  were  far  off". 

242.  grace,  good  pleasure. 

243.  is.     See  Appendix  IV.  (6). 
245.   in  few,  in  few  words. 

247.  some  certain.     Cp.  i.  i.  87. 

250  savour... of,  taste  of,  smack  of,  call  to  mind.  Cp.  line  295 
below. 

251.  be  advised,  consider. 

252.  galliard.     See  Glossary.     The  Dauphin  implies  that  Henry 
is  more  dancer  than  soldier. 

253.  revel  into  dukedoms,  obtain  dukedoms  by  revelry.     Cp. 
line  285  below,  "mock  (widows)  out  of  their  dear  husbands  '. 

255.  tun.    Holinshed  says  "a  barrell  of  Paris  balles".     But  in  the 
poem  attributed  to  Lydgate  (see  iii.  7.  74,  n. )  we  have  "a  tonne  of 
tenys  ballys  ",  and  so  also  in  the  Famous  Victories. 

in  lieu  of  this,  in  return  for  this.  Such  (and  not  'instead  of 
this ')  is  the  common  meaning  of  the  phrase  in  Shakespeare. 

256.  let,  in  the  subj.  mood  governing  hear  in  the  inf. 

258.  Tennis-balls.  Holinshed's  account  runs,  "Whilest  in  the 
Lent  season  the  king  laie  at  Killingworth,  there  came  to  him  from 
Charles  Dolphin  of  France  certeine  ambassadors,  that  brought  with 
them  a  barrell  of  Paris  balles  which  from  their  maister  they  presented 
to  him  for  a  token  that  was  taken  in  verie  ill  part,  as  sent  in  scorne, 
to  signifie  that  it  was  more  meet  for  the  king  to  passe  the  time  with 
such  childish  exercise,  than  to  attempt  any  worthie  exploit.  Where- 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  137 

fore  the  K.  wrote  to  him,  that  yer  ought  long,  he  would  tosse  him 
some  London  balles  that  perchance  should  shake  the  walles  of  the 
best  court  in  France." 

259.  pleasant,  merry,  facetious,  as  Fr.  plaisant.  Cp.  line  281. 
The  Famous  Victories  has  "  My  Lord  Prince  Dolphin  is  very  plea- 
sant with  me". 

261-266.  rackets,  set,  hazard,  wrangler,  courts,  chaces. 
Terms  used  in  the  game  of  tennis.  A  tennis-court  was  divided  by 
a  net  into  two  equal  parts,  of  which  one  was  called  the  hazard; 
chaces  were  lines  marked  on  the  floor.  Probably  Shakespeare  is  here 
using  the  terms  quite  loosely. 

262.  Play  a  set  shall  strike.  Perhaps  this  is  not  a  case  of  the 
omission  of  the  relative,  but  a  relic  of  an  earlier  construction  in  which 
the  middle  term  is  both  subject  and  object. 

267.  comes  o'er  us,  twits  us;  in  modern  colloquial  English, 
gets  at  us. 

269.  seat  of  England,  throne  of  England.     Cp.  i.  I.  88.     As 
Mr.  Deighton  says,  "  The  assertion  that  he  did  not  value  the  throne 
of  England  is  ironically  made  with  reference  to  the  value  he  places 
on  the  throne  of  France,  line  275  ". 

270.  hence,  away  from  the  court 

ourself.      This    form    (not    ourselves}    is    regularly    used    in 
Shakespeare  in  the  regal  style.     Cp.  Hamlet,  i.  I.  122 — 

King.   "  Be  as  ourself  in  Denmark  ". 

271.  barbarous,  rude. 

272.  are   from  home.     The  use  ofynv«=away  from,  out  of, 
clear  of  (without  a  verb  of  motion)  has  lingered  on  into  modern 
English  in  this  phrase  from  h-?<:e.     Shakespeare  used  from  in  this 
sense  in  many  other  connexions,  eg.,  Tempest,  i.  2.  65,  "which  is 
from  my  remembrance  ";  2  Henry  VI.,  iii.  2.  401,   "  from  thee  to 
die";  King  John,  iv.  i.  86,  "I  am  best  pleased  to  be  from  such  a 
deed".     Cp.  iv.  8.  127  below. 

273.  keep  my  state,   'sit  in  state'.      For  this  sense  of  state 
(  =  chair  of  state)  cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  ii.  4.  416,  "this  chair  shall  be 
my  state";  Macbeth,  iii.  4.  5,  "our  hostess  keeps  her  state". 

274.  show  my  sail  of  greatness.     'To  show  sail'  is  a  natural 
metaphor   for   prosperity,   as    '  to  strike   sail '   is   for  defeat.     Cp. 
3  Henry  VI.,  iii.  3.  5 — 

"now  Margaret 
Must  strike  her  sail  and  learn  awhile  to  serve  ". 

275.  me.     Cp.  note  on  line  93  above. 

276.  For  that,  with  that  end  in  view. 

277.  plodded   like   a  man   for  working-days,   toiled   like  a 


138  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

common  man  during  working  days  (i.e.  not  forgetting  that  a  day  of 
resi  was  coming).     Cp.  iv.  3.  109. 

280.  to  look.    Gerund,  used  after  blind.    Mr.  Herford  on  Richard 
//.,  i.  3.  243,  writes:  "70  with  the  infinitive  often  in  E.  E.  introduces 
a  clause  describing  the  circumstance  in  (or  by)  which  something 
happens:  to  having  then  its  old,  but  now  rare  locative  sense  —at,  in. 
So  of  time:  cf.  '  to-day',  &c."     Cp.  ii.  I.  i;  ii.  2.  38. 

281.  pleasant.     See  note  on  1.  259  above. 

282.  gun-stones.     Cannon-balls  were  originally  of  stone. 

284,  285.  widows.  The  action  of  the  verb  is  anticipated.  This 
use  is  called  prolepsis. 

292.   venge  me,  avenge  myself.     For  me  cp.  note  on  1.  93  above. 
300.   omit  no  happy  hour,  let  slip  no  lucky  hour. 
304.   proportions,  forces.     Cp.  1.  137  above. 

306.  reasonable  swiftness,  swiftness  accompanied  with  judg- 
ment and  caution. 

307.  God  before.     The  phrase  occurs  also  in  iii.  6.  147.     It  has 
commonly  and,  as  I  think,  rightly  been   interpreted,   '  God  going 
before  us',  'God  being  our  guide',  and   this  meaning  well  agrees 
with    Henry's    character,    and    the    spirit    of    the    two    passages. 
Staunton  and  Mr.  Wright  consider  the  phrase  merely  a  poetic  inver- 
sion of  '  Before  God  ',  a  form  of  asseveration  which  occurs  in  v.  2.  140. 
Such  inversion  seems,  however,  unnatural,  especially  in  the  prose 
passage.      In  Chaucer's   Troilns  "and  God  to  forn"  occurs  three 
times,  "and  God  to  fore"  once,  in  all  cases  unmistakeably,  as  I 
think,  =  '  with  God's  help '. 

Stage-direction.  Flourish.  By  flourish  is  meant  a  flourish  of 
trumpets  announcing  the  king's  approach  to  those  outside.  Cp. 
Merchant  of  Venice,  iii.  2.  49 — 

"  the  flourish  when  true  subjects  bow 
To  a  new -crowned  monarch  ". 


Act  II.— Prologue. 

'  Chorus '  bridges  the  gap  between  act  i.  and  act  ii.  by  describing 
the  preparations  for  war  in  England  and  the  consequent  alarm  of  the 
French,  who  have  bribed  three  Englishmen  of  high  rank  to  assassin- 
ate Henry  at  Southampton  before  he  embarks.  'Chorus'  further 
prepares  the  audience  for  the  changes  of  scene,  which  are  to  be  sup- 
posed in  the  course  of  the  act — from  London  to  Southampton  and 
thence  to  France.  It  must  be  remembered  that  such  changes  in  the 
supposed  scene  of  action  could  not  be  indicated  on  the  Elizabethan 
stage  by  change  of  scenery.  (See  Introduction  '  The  Elizabethan 
Theatre'.) 


Prologue.]  NOTES.  139 

2.  silken    dalliance,    the    light    playfulness    which    had    been 
associated  with  the  wearing  of  silken  clothes  is  now,  like  them,  laid 
by.     Every  man  is  donning  his  armour. 

3.  honour's  thought,  the  objective  use  of  the  possessive  case. 

6.  mirror,  him  in  whom  the  virtues  of  all  Christian  kings  are  seen 
reflected. 

7.  The  English  knights  making  haste  to  join  their  king  are  com- 
pared to  the  god  Mercury,  the  messenger  of  Jupiter,  who  had  wings 
on  his  heels. 

8.  The  popular  expectation  of  the  glorious  results  to  be  obtained 
from  the  war  takes,  in  the  poet's  mind,  the  form  of  a  goddess  in  the 
air  holding  a  sword  encircled  from  hilt  to  point  with  crowns  and 
coronets. 

sits.     See  ii.  2.  12,  note. 

9.  hilts.     Mr.  Deighton  writes :  "  This  word  is  commonly  ex- 
plained in  dictionaries  as  the  handle  of  the  sword.     It  is,  however, 
not   the   handle   itself,  but  the  protection   of  the  handle...     For- 
merly it  consisted  of  a  steel  bar  projecting  at  right  angles  to  the 
blade  on  each  side.     This  form  of  the  two  transverse  projections 
explains  the  use  of  the  plural".     For  the  plural,  cp.  ii.  I.  56,  and 
Arden  of  Feversham,  v.  I — 

"When  he  should  have  lock'd  with  both  his  hilts, 
He  in  a  bravery  flourish'd  over  his  head  ". 

10.  crowns    imperial,    crowns   and   coronets,    i.e.,   as   Mr. 
Deighton  says,  "crowns  worn  by  emperors,  by  inferior  sovereigns, 
and  by  peers  ". 

12.  advised   by  good   intelligence,  informed  by  trustworthy 
news. 

14.  pale   policy,  the   poet's   eye   sees   their  policy  or  cunning 
scheming  invested  with  the  paleness  of  their  cheeks. 

15.  divert  the  English  purposes,  turn  the  intentions  of  the 
English  in  another  direction. 

16.  model  to  thy  inward  greatness,  visible  form   in  which 
dwells  a  mighty  spirit.     Mr.  Vaughan  points  out  that  '  model '  does 
not  here  imply  likeness,  but  is  parallel  to  '  little  body '  in  the  next 
line.     For  ' model' =  a  mould  or  envelope,  cp.  Richard  //.,  iii.  2. 
153,  where  the  grave  is  called 

"  that  small  model  of  the  barren  earth 
Which  serves  as  paste  and  cover  to  our  bones  ". 
18.  would  thee  do,  would  have  thee  to  do.      Would  is  here  in 
its  original  senses  willed,  desired.     Cp.  iv.  I.  32. 
20.  fault,  defect,  weak  spot.     The  Ff.  punctuate — 

"  But  see  thy  fault  France  hath  in  thee  found  out, 

A  nest..." 
France,  the  king  of  France. 


140  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II 

22.   treacherous  crowns,  crown-pieces  which  bribe  to  treason. 
26.  gilt,  guilt.    The  same  pun  occurs  in  a  Henry  IV.,  iv.  5.  129, 
"England  shall  double  gild  his  treble  guilt";  and  in  Motbtth,  ii.  2. 
56- 

"  I  '11  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal, 
For  it  mr<»t  seem  their  guilt  ". 

37.  Confirm'd  conspiracy,  made  strong,  ratified,  a  conspiracy, 
fearful,  full  of  fear. 

28.  grace  of  kings,  "  he  who  does  most  honour  to  the  title" 
(Warburton).  Steevens  points  out  that  Shakespeare  might  have 
found  the  phrase  in  the  1st  book  of  Chapman's  translation  of  Homer 
(published  1598)— 

"With  her,  the  grace  of  kings, 
Wise  Ithacus  ascended   . 

31.  Linger  your  patience  on.  Linger  is  used  in  Shakespeare 
transitively  — protract,  prolong,  either  alone  (Midsummer  Nighfi 
Dream,  i.  I.  4,  "she  lingers  my  desires"),  with  out  (Sonnet,  90.  8, 
"  to  linger  out  a  purposed  overthrow  "),  or  with  on,  as  here.  Cp. 
Trot/us,  v.  10.  9 — "  linger  not  our  sure  destructions  on". 

31,  32.  we  '11  digest  The  abuse  of  distance,  we  will  arrange 
our  bold  transference  of  the  action  between  places  so  distant   as 
London  and  Southampton.     Such  a  violent  change  of  scene  was 
contrary  to  dramatic  propriety  as  taught  by  Aristotle  and  accepted 
by  many  of  Shakespeare's  contemporaries. 

32.  force  a  play.      The  line  is  a  foot  short.      Pope  to  correct  it 
read,  "  while  we  force  a  play  ".    Force  a  play  was  then  explained  by 
Steevens,  "  produce  a  play  by  compelling  many  circumstances  into  a 
narrow  compass  ". 

However,  the  transition  from  31,  32  to  the  next  line  is  so  abrupt 
that  we  must  suppose  a  line  at  least  to  have  dropt  out  of  the  text  as 
Shakespeare  wrote  it,  and  this  makes  it  doubtful  if  the  words  which 
we  have  are  genuine. 

34.  is  set,  has  set  out.     Cp.  iv.  3.  I.     With  intransitive  verbs  of 
motion   Shakespeare   commonly   followed  old   English   usage  and 
used  the  verb  to  be.    Modern  English  says,  not  '  he  is  come  ',  but  'he 
has  come ',  i.e.  it  has  extended  to  such  words  the  construction  with 
have  which  belongs  properly  only  to  transitive  verbs.     French  has 
kept  the  more  logical  construction ;  e.g.  I  have  seen  him,  je  /'a» 
vu ;  I  have  come,  je  sin's  venu. 

35.  gentles.     See  note  on  i.  P.  8. 

38.  narrow  seas.     Compare  note  on  i.  P.  22.    Chorus  is  made  to 
say  playfully  that  though  the  audience  are  to  be  taken  to  France, 
they  shall  have  a  smooth  passage  across  the  Channel. 

39.  pass,  passage.     So  Hamlet,  ii.   2.   77,   "to  give  quiet  pass 
through  your  dominions  ". 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  141 

40.  offend  one  stomach,  offend  one  person's  taste,  with  a  pass- 
ing reference  to  the  sea-sickness  which  often  attends  a  trip  across 
the  Channel. 

41.  The  sense  is  not  complete.     '  But  till  the  king  come  forth 
(the  scene  remains  as  it  was,  i.e.  in  London) ',  &c. 

Scene  I. 

The  scene  serves  two  purposes.  It  acts  as  a  comic  relief  to  the 
audience  after  the  profound  statecraft  and  lofty  sentiment  set  forth  in 
act  i.  They  will  be  all  the  more  pleased  to  meet  again  characters 
already  known  to  them  in  the  play  of  Henry  IV.  And,  secondly, 
it  serves  to  deepen  the  audience's  sense  of  the  reality  of  the  action 
presented  to  them,  by  showing  the  seamy  side  of  it.  While  Greek 
tragedy,  when  setting  forth  the  gods  and  heroes  of  a  mythic  age, 
ensured  illusion  by  separating  the  whole  presentation  as  far  as 
possible  from  real  life,  making,  for  instance,  even  slaves  talk  nobly, 
English  drama,  dealing  with  men  and  women  like  ourselves,  must 
often  produce  the  same  sense  of  illusion  by  the  opposite  means. 
Here — though  the  action  be  laid  in  the  past,  and  though  it  involve 
great  events  and  great  personages — the  audience  must  never  be 
allowed  to  think  that  the  men  of  old  were  not  of  the  same  stuff 
as  those  of  to-day.  If  there  were  thinkers  and  heroes  and  patriots 
among  them,  there  were  also  braggarts  and  scoundrels.  The  manly 
virtues  and  religious  earnestness  of  Henry  V.,  the  brave  loyalty  of 
Fluellen,  are  all  the  more  conspicuous  when  seen  side  by  side  with 
the  coarseness  of  Bardelph,  the  futility  of  Nym,  and  the  bragging 
cowardliness  of  Pistol. 

2.  Lieutenant.     Bardolph  was  only  a  corporal  in  2  Henry  IV., 
ii.  4.  162,  and  so  he  is  called  by  Nym  in  iii.  2.  2  of  this  play. 

3.  Ancient,  Ensign.     See  Glossary. 

5.  there  shall   be   smiles.      Ironically  said.      Nym   probably 
means,  there  shall  be  blows,  and  laughter  on  the  wrong. side  of  the 
face. 

6.  wink,  shut  my  eyes.     See  Glossary. 

mine  iron.  The  O.E.  min  has  become  in  Shakespeare  my 
before  a  consonant,  though  it,  often  but  not  invariably,  remains  mine 
before  a  vowel.  Cp.  our  use  of  a,  an  (O.E.  an).  Modern  English 
uses  only  my  even  before  a  vowel. 

7.  what  though  ?  what  then  ?  what  of  that  ?    Cp.  King  John,  L 
I.  169,  "by  chance  but  not  by  truth:  what  though?" 

it  will  toast  cheese.  Mr.  Deighton  says,  "a  sword  was  often 
ludicrously  called  'a  toasting-fork '  or  '  toasting-iron ' ",  and  compares 
King  John,  iv.  3.  99— 

"  Put  up  thy  sword  betimes, 
Or  I  '11  so  maul  you  and  your  toasting-iron",  &c. 

8.  9.  there 's  an  end,  there 's  an  end  of  it. 


142  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

ii.  we'll  be  all  three  sworn  brothers  to  France.  Cp.  iii.  2. 
40.  The  words  '  to  France'  imply  the  sense  of  motion  in  the  verb. 
'  We  Ml  be,  &c.  (and  so  go)  to  France."  For  sworn  brothers,  see 
Glossary. 

15.  that  is  my  rest,  that  is  my  undertaking.  See  Glossary, 
'  rest '. 

that  is  the  rendezvous  of  it.  Nym  picks  up  all  sorts  of  current 
phrases  ('that's  the  certain  of  it ',  'knives  have  edges',  'in  fair 
terms',  '  that 's  the  even  of  it ',  &c.),  and  varies  them  as  here  with- 
out regard  to  sense.  For  the  contemporary  use  of  rendezvous,  cp. 
Dekker,  Curs  Horn-bookc  (1609),  ch.  v.  ad  fin.,  "  to  ride  to  the  new 
play:  that  is  the  rendezvous".  See  also  v.  i.  75,  n. 

18.  troth-plight,   betrothed.      Cp.   the  words  of  the  marriage 
service:   "  And  thereto  I  plight  thee  my  troth  ". 

19.  I  cannot  tell,  I  don't  know  what  to  say.     Cp.  line  23.     So 
frequently  in  Shakespeare. 

22.  mare.  Adopted  by  Theobald  from  the  Qq.;  the  Ff.  have 
name. 

25.  mine.     Cp.  line  6,  note.     Host,  like  other  words  of  French 
derivation  (humble,  heir,  &c. ),  had  a  silent  h  in  Shakespeare's  time. 
He  invariably  says  '  mine  host\  '  thine  host\  except  in  the  single 
passage,  /  Henry  IV.,  i.  2.  54.     Pistol  having  married   Mistreat 
Quickly,  was  host  of  the  inn  in  Eastcheap. 

26.  The  Folios  print  Pistol's  speeches  as  prose, 
tike,  cur.     Cp.  Lear,  iii.  6.  68,  "bobtail  tike". 

29.  Stage-direction,  draw,  draw  swords. 

30.  well  a  day.     A  corruption  of  the  O.E.  wd-ld-wd,  alas. 
Lady,  a  form  of  oath  by  the  Virgin  Mary.     Cp.  '  Marr>*. 

if  he  be  not  drawn.  Drawn  was  substituted  by  Theobald  for 
hewn,  the  reading  of  the  Ff.  For  the  phrase  to  be  drawn  =  to  have 
drawn  one's  sword,  cp.  Tempest,  ii.  i.  301,  "  Why  are  you  drawn?1' 

32.  lieutenant.  A  wrong  title  is  carelessly  given  to  Ancient 
Pistol.  Cp.  iii.  2.  2,  note. 

offer  nothing  here,  attempt  no  violence  here.     Cp.  iv.  7.  3. 

34.  Iceland  dog.  From  various  references  in  seventeenth-century 
authors  we  learn  that  these  dogs  were  constantly  being  brought 
over  from  Iceland  to  serve  as  ladies'  lap-dogs.  They  had  rough 
white  curly  hair,  and  they  were  very  snappish.  Probably  this  is  the 
point  of  Pistol's  taunt  here. 

36.  show  thy  valour,  and  put  up  your  sword.  In  Shake- 
speare's time  thy  was  being  supplanted  by  your.  It  was  re- 
tained, however,  (I)  in  solemn  and  religious  language,  (2)  to  express 
the  familiarity  (a)  of  affection,  (b)  of  contempt.  In  this  line  the 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  143 

change  from  thy  to  your  makes  the  latter  clause  rather  more  respect- 
ful than  the  former  one. 

38.  shog  off,  move  off.     See  Glossary. 

solus,  the  Latin  for  '  alone '.  Probably,  like  shog  above,  a 
slang  expression.  It  is  not  understood  by  Pistol,  who  takes  it  as 
something  very  insulting. 

39.  egregious,  an  intensive  word  =' in  the  highest  degree',  from 
Latin  egregius  (from  e  grege,  out  of  the  flock),  rare,  notable.     Used 
by  Pistol  again,  iv.  4.  n. 

42.  maw,  stomach.     See  Glossary, 
perdy,  by  God.     Fr.  par  dieu. 

43.  nasty,  foul.     The  word  only  occurs  twice  in  Shakespeare, 
and  has  a  much  stronger  sense  than  with  us.     Even  now  in  America 
the  word  retains  its  old  force,  and  an  American  is  surprised  to  hear 
us  apply  the  word  to  anything  so  innocent  as  the  weather. 

45.  take,  catch  fire.     The  whole  line  is  a  play  on  Pistol's  name. 

47.  I  am  not  Barbason;  you  cannot  conjure  me.     Barbason 
occurs  as  the  name  of  a  devil  in  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  ii.  2.  311, 
"  Amaimon  sounds  well;  Lucifer  well;  Barbason  well;  yet  they  are 
devils'  additions  (i.e.   titles),  the  names  of  fiends".      Nym  thinks 
Pistol's  ranting  words  sound  like  an  exorcism  against  a  devil. 

48.  humour.     See  Glossary. 

to  knock  you  indifferently  well,  to  give  you  a  pretty  good 
beating. 

48-49.  If  you  grow  foul  with  me,  Pistol,  I  will  scour 
you,  &c.  Another  play  on  Pistol's  name.  A  foul  pistol,  as  Mr. 
Deighton  says,  was  cleaned  "  by  thrusting  a  ramrod  with  a  piece  of 
sponge  or  cloth  attached  to  it  into  the  barrel  and  drawing  it  up  and 
down.  In  Shakespeare's  time  this  was  called  a  scouririg-stick. 

49-51.  in  fair  terms. ..in  good  terms.  Other  current  phrases 
which  Nym  uses  in  and  out  of  season.  Cp.  line  60. 

53.  doting  death.      Pistol  in  his  mock-heroic  style  uses  an  in- 
appropriate adjective  (as  doting  here)  for  the  sake  of  an  alliteration. 
Cp.  iii.  6.  25. 

54.  exhale,   draw  forth  (thy  sword).      It  has  been  interpreted 
'Die',  but  Shakespeare  does  not  use  the  word  in  this  sense.     The 
Qq.  add  a  stage-direction  here,  "  They  draws". 

56.  I'll  run  him,  &c.,  I  will  run  my  sword  through  him  up  to 
the  hilt. 

hilts.     See  ii.  P.  9,  note. 

57.  mickle,  like  mervailous,  line  40,  and  -wight,  line  52,  an  old- 
fashioned  word  used  affectedly.     While  Nym's  speech  is  a  parody  of 
the  fashionable  phrases  of  Shakespeare's  day,  Pistol's  is  a  burlesque 


144  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

of  the  poetical  language  of  the  stage.     It  is  full  of  expressions  taken, 
as  we  must  presume,  from  bad  plays. 

58.  fore -foot.     Pistol  continues  to  treat  Nym  as  a  dog,  even  in 
his  moments  of  relenting.     See  line  34  above,  and  line  64  below. 

59.  tall,  courageous,  spirited.     Where  Shakespeare  uses  the  word 
in  this  sense,  it  is  generally  with  a  touch  of  irony.     Cp.  our  expres- 
sion '  tall  talk '. 

62.  Couple  a  gorge,  cut  a  throat.     (Fr.  couper  la  gorge.)    Cp. 
iv.  4-  35.  36,  37- 

63.  I  thee  defy.     The  reading  of  the  Qq.    The  Ff.  have  '  I  defie 
thee'. 

64.  hound  of  Crete.     Probably  a  phrase  picked  up  by  Pistol  and 
used  without  any  special  meaning. 

65.  spital,  hospital.     See  Glossary. 

66.  powdering-tub,  a  tub  in  which  meat  was  salted.     Here  it 
denotes  the  hot  bath  used  in  the  treatment  of  a  certain  disease. 

67.  lazar.     See  Glossary.     Cressida,  a  Greek  maiden,  was  loved 
by  the  Trojan  Troilus,  and  was  false  to  him,  as  we  read  in  Shake- 
speare's  Troilus  and  Cressida.      According  to  one  story  she  was 
punished  with  a  leprosy,  'like  a  Lazarus'.     Steevens  pointed  out 
that  Pistol  here  echoes  a  phrase  found  in  Gascoigne's  Dan  Bartholo- 
mew of  Bathe,  1587 — 

"  Not  seldom  seen  in  Kits  of  Cressid's  kinde". 

Mr.   Wright  suggests  that  'kit'  (  =  'cat'),  which  is  the  reading  of 
the  fourth  Folio,  should  possibly  be  read  here  instead  of  '  kite'. 

68.  Doll  Tearsheet.     In  2  Henry  IV.,  v.  4,  she  was  sent  to 
prison. 

69.  the  quondam  Quickly,  her  who  was  Mistress  Quickly  for- 
merly (Lat.  quondam  —  formerly). 

70.  For  the  only  she,  '  I  will  consider  her  the  only  woman  in 
the  world'.     For  she  —  woman,  cp.  Twelfth  Night,  i.  5.  259 — 

"  Lady,  you  are  the  cruellest  she  alive", 
and  Crashaw, 

"  that  not  impossible  She 
That  shall  command  my  heart  and  me". 

pauca,  to  be  brief.     Lat.  pauca  —  i&N  (words). 

70,  71.  there's  enough.     Go  to.    A  correction  by  Pope  of  the 
reading  of  the  Ff.,   "there's  enough  to  go  to".     The  Qq.   have 
'  there  it  is  enough'. 

71,  Go  to.    A  common  expression  of  contempt  =  (in  modern  slang) 
Get  along.     The  adverb  to  has  here  the  sense  on,  forward,  as  in 
Troilus,  ii.  I.  119,  "to,  Achilles!  to,  Ajax,  to!" 

72,  73.  and  you,  hostess.     Hanmer's  correction.    The  Ff.  have 
'  and  your  Hostesse '. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  145 

73.  would  to  bed,  would  wish  (to  go)  to  bed.    Cp.  2  Henry  IV., 
iii.  I.  108,  "We  would  unto  the  Holy  Land";  line  80  below,  and 
ii.  2.  12. 

74.  thy  face.     Bardolph's  face  is  described  by  Fluellen,  iii.  6.  95. 

77.  he  '11  yield  the  crow  a  pudding,  he  will  be  dead  and  food 
for  crows. 

78.  The  king  has  killed  his  heart.     Mr.  Swinburne,  speaking 
of  these  words  (which  are  not  in  the  Qq.),  says,  "  The  finest  touch 
in  the  comic  scenes,  if  not  the  finest  in  the  whole  portrait  of  Falstaff, 
is  apparently  an  after-thought,  a  touch  added  on  revision  of  the 
original  design... Again... does  Shakespeare  revert  to  it  before  the 
close  of  this  very  scene.     Even  Pistol  and  Nym  can  see  that  what 
now  ails  their  old  master  is  no  such  ailment  as  in  his  prosperous 
days  was  but  too  liable  to   'play  the   rogue  with  his   great  toe'. 
'The  king  hath  run  bad  humours  on  the  knight';    'his  heart  is 
fracted  and  corroborate'." 

79.  presently.     The  word  is  generally  used  in  Shakespeare  in  its 
literal  sense  =' at  this  moment'.     Cp.  iii.  2.  49,  note.     Here  it  seems 
to  approach  its  modern  meaning. 

80.  81.  We  must  to  France.     Cp.  line  73,  note. 

83.  floods. ..fiends. ..food.  Pistol,  like  the  bad  poets  from  whom 
he  quotes,  has  a  weakness  for  alliteration. 

86.  Base  is  the  slave  that  pays.  Probably  another  quotation. 
Steevens  found  the  phrase  again  in  Heywood's  play,  Fair  Maid  of 
the  West  (acted  1617)— 

"  My  motto  shall  be  '  Base  is  the  man  that  pays'" 

88.  As  manhood  shall  compound,  as  valour  shall  settle  it. 

89.  he  that  makes,  &c.      The  subject  he  has  no  verb.     The 
speaker  interrupts  his  sentence — and  instead  of  saying  'shall  die', 
substitutes  "  I'll  kill  him".     Cp.  ii.  2.  8,  note. 

92.  an,  if. 

93.  be  enemies.     We  still  say  '  Be  friends  with  me',  but  not 
'  Be  enemies '.     Neither  expression  is  strictly  logical.     The  plural  is 
due  to  a  confused  attempt  to  express  that  what  is  wished  is  mutual 
friendship.      For  Shakespeare's  use  cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  iii.  3.  203, 
"  I  am  good  friends  with  my  father". 

94.  put  up,  put  up  thy  sword. 

95.  96.  Nym's  speech  is  omitted  in  the  Ff.,  and  was  supplied  by 
Capell  from  the  Qq. 

97.  A  noble  was  worth  6s.  SJ. 

present  pay,  immediate  payment 
99.  shall  combine,  i.e.  (probably)  '  us'. 

TOI.  sutler,  seller  of  provisions  to  the  army.  One  of  the  many 
military  words  which  came  to  us  from  the  Dutch. 

( M 178  )  K 


i46  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

1 08.   ahaked.     See  i.  2.  154,  note. 

of  =  modern  by,  of  the  agent.  Cp.  /  Corinthians,  xv.  5, 
"  seen  of  Cephas,  then  of  the  twelve  ". 

108,  109.  quotidian  tertian.  The  Hostess,  like  many  other 
people,  uses  medical  terms  without  understanding  them,  and  talks 
nonsense.  A  '  quotidian '  is  a  fever  which  recurs  every  day,  a 
'  tertian '  one  which  recurs  every  alternate  day. 

in.  hath  run  bad  humours  on  the  knight,  has  vented  his  ill 
humour  on  him.  Cp.  Merry  Wives,  i.  I.  171,  where  Nym  is  again 
the  speaker — 

"  If  you  run  the  nuthook's  humour  on  me  ". 

For  run  as  an  active  verb cp.  Julius  Citsar,  ii.  2.  78,  "did  run  pure 
blood  ". 

113.  spoke.     See  i.  2.  154,  note. 

114.  fracted,  broken.    Cp.  Timon,  ii.  i.  22,  "hisfracted  dates" 
(  =  his  broken  engagements). 

corroborate,  made  strong.  Pistol  uses  a  big  word  which  ex- 
presses just  the  opposite  of  what  he  intends. 

1 1 6.  he  passes  some  humours  and  careers,  that  is,  'he  gives 
vent   to  (or  exhibits)  some  freaks  and  frolics '.     For  careers,  see 
Glossary. 

117.  condole,  lament  over.     Mr.  Deighton  quotes  a  stage-direc- 
tion from  Marston's  Antonio  and  Mellida,  Part  II.  v.  5 — 

"  Piero  seems  to  condole  his  son  "  (who  is  dead). 

for,  lambkins,  we  will  live.  This  is  the  Folio  reading. 
Malone,  omitting  the  second  comma,  interpreted  the  passage,  '  \Ve 
will  live  quietly  and  peaceably  together  as  lambkins '. 

Scene  2. 

The  Scene  serves  to  deepen  the  patriotic  sympathy  of  the  audience 
for  the  king,  who  on  the  eve  of  his  expedition  so  nearly  fell  a  victim 
to  the  treason  of  his  most  trusted  friends,  and  who  on  the  discovery 
of  the  plot  showed  such  a  combination  of  magnanimity  and  fearless 
severity.  The  king's  preservation  becomes  an  omen  of  that  divine 
protection  which  will  accompany  him  on  his  campaign. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  give  the  passage  of  Holinshed  on  which 
Shakespeare  bases  this  scene. 

Stage-direction.  Southampton.  The  place  is  not  given  in  the 
Ff.  or  Qq.  Pope  supplied  it  on  the  authority  of  Holinshed  and  of 
the  Prologue. 

1.  to  trust.     Cp.  i.  2.  280,  note. 

2.  shall  be.     Cp.  i.  2.  141,  note. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  147 

3.  even,  calm,  unruffled. 

do  bear.  Shakespeare  uses  the  periphrastic  conjugation  of  a 
verb  with  do  even  where  no  emphasis  is  required.  '  They  do  bear ' 
=  they  bear.  Cp.  76,  77,  177  below.  In  this  respect  again  (see  i. 
•I.  154,  n.)  modern  English  is  truer  to  early  usage  than  was  the 
English  of  Elizabeth's  time.  On  the  other  hand  Shakespeare  often 
expresses  a  question  (cp.  lines  15,  127  below)  or  a  negation  (cp.  line 
20  below)  by  the  simple  verb  without  do. 

4.  sat.     See  line  12,  note. 

5.  constant,  firm. 

7.  By  interception,  by  employing  means  of  intercepting  their 
communications,  &c. 

8.  Nay,  but,  &c.     The  sentence  is  grammatically  of  the  exclama- 
tory kind.      '  That  the  man  that,  &c — should  so  sell  his  sovereign's 
life !'    But  the  speaker  in  his  indignation  begins  with  his  description 
of  the  traitor,  and  after  the  com.  that  inserts  the  pronoun  he  to 
represent  the  subject.     Cp.  ii.  I.  89,  note. 

bedfellow.  Holinshed  states,  "The  said  Lord  Scroop  was 
in  such  favour  with  the  king  that  he  admitted  him  sometime  to  be 
his  bedfellow". 

g.  As  the  taste  is  gradually  deadened  by  a  persistent  course  of 
sweet  things,  and  at  last  completely  cloyed  so  that  they  no  longer 
excite  any  pleasure  at  all,  so  these  men's  sense  of  gratitude  and 
affection  had  been  '  dull'd '  and  cloyed  by  the  king's  long-continued 
favours. 

10.  for  a  foreign  purse.  Holinshed  writes,  "These  prisoners... 
confessed  that  for  a  great  summe  of  monie  which  they  had  receiued 
of  the  French  king,  they  intended  verelie  either  to  haue  deliuered 
the  king  aliue  into  the  hands  of  his  enimies,  or  else  to  haue  mur- 
thered  him  before  he  should  arriue  in  the  duchie  of  Normandie ''. 
The  charge  of  bribery  is  made  by  a  writer  contemporary  with  the 
event  (Nicolas,  Agincourt). 

12.  sits.  Of  the  wind,  cp.  Merchant  of  Venice,  i.  I.  18,  "Plucking 
the  grass  to  know  where  sits  the  wind".  The  word  sit  was  used  by 
Shakespeare  far  more  widely  than  with  us.  Cp.  line  4  above,  ii.  P.  8, 
iv.  5.  5. 

will  aboard.     Cp.  ii.  I.  73,  note. 

15.  Think  you  not.     Cp.  line  3,  note. 

18.  in  head,  in  an  organized  force.  Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  iv.  4.  25, 
"a  head  of  gallant  warriors". 

20.   I  doubt  not.     Cp.  line  3,  note. 
22.  grows,  lives,  is. 

consent,  in  its  proper  sense  'agreement'.  But  cp.  i.  2.  181, 
note. 


I48  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

33.   Nor... not.     Cp.  i.  I.  35,  note. 

25.  better  fear'd,  more  feared.  Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  iv.  i.  27, 
"  better  worth  "  ( =  more  precious). 

30.  galls,  originally  the  bile,  then  rancour,  bitterness  of  spirit. 
Honey  and  gall  were  taken  as  opposites,  cp.  Lucrece,  889,  "Thy 
honey  turns  to  gall,  thy  joy  to  grief". 

do  serve.     Cp.  line  3,  note. 

31.  create.     Shakespeare  often  uses  the  Latin  form  of  the  past 
participle.     Cp.  i.  2.  16. 

33.  forget  the  office  of  our  hand.     A  reminiscence  of  Psalm 
cxxxvii.  5,  "if  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning". 

34.  quittance,  requital. 

36.  steeled  sinews,  with  sinews  as  untiring  as  though  made  oi 
steel. 

38.  To  do,  &c.     Cp.  i.  2.  280,  note. 

40.  The  incident  here  told  is  not  historical.  See  Introduction, 
§  8  (a).  Perhaps  it  was  suggested  to  Shakespeare  by  the  parable  of 
the  Unmerciful  Servant,  St.  Matthew,  xviii.  23-34. 

Enlarge,  set  at  liberty.    Cp.  line  57  and  Lovelace,  To  Althea 
in  Prison  — 

"  The  enlarged  winds  that  curl  the  flood 
Know  no  such  liberty  ". 

committed,  i.e.  to  prison. 

43.  on  his  more  advice,  now  that  he  has  had  time  for  reflection, 
or  possibly,  as  Mr.  Wright  suggests,  his  is  the  objective  genitive  (cp. 
i.  2.  224,  note),  so  that  the  phrase  would  mean  'on  further  considera- 
tion about  him  '.     Cp.  line  46. 

44.  security,  confidence,  in  the  sense  of  the  Latin  securus,  '  free 
from  care  or  apprehension '.     So  Macbeth,  iii.  5.  32— 

"  Security  is  mortal's  greatest  enemy  ". 

46.  by  his  sufferance,  by  your  permitting  him  to  go  unpunished. 
His  is  the  objective  genitive.  Cp.  line  43,  note. 

51.  After  the  taste  of  much  correction,  after  he  has  had  a  taste 
(i.e.  experience)  of  severe  punishment. 

53.  heavy  orisons,  weighty  petitions.   Compare  Hamlet's  words 
to  Ophelia  (Hamlet,  iii.  i.  89) — 

"Nymph,  in  thy  orisons 
Be  all  my  sins  remember'd  ". 

54.  proceeding  on  distemper,  following  on  a  state  of  derange- 
ment.   The  word  distemper  is  frequently  used  of  the  effects  of  wine. 
Cp.  Othello,  i.  I.  99,  "full  of  supper  and  distempering  draughts". 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  149 

55.  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye,  how  wide  must  we  open 
our  eyes. 

56.  chew'd,  swallow'd  and  digested,  i.e.  long  pondered. 

57.  Appear,  become  visible.     The  sense  is  stronger  than  in  our 
general  use  of  the  word.     Cp.  Lucrece,  633 — 

"  Men's  faults  do  seldom  to  themselves  appear". 
61.  late,  lately  appointed.     Cp.  ii.  4.  31. 
63.  it,  the  commission. 

65.  And  I.     Grey  chimes  in  with  the  first  words  used  by  Cam- 
bridge. 

69.  worthiness,  as  Mr.  Deighton  says,  is  purposely  ambiguous. 
72,  73.  lose  So  much  complexion,  turn  so  pale.  F.  I  has  'loose'. 

74.  paper,  white  as  paper.     Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  v.  4.  12,  "Thou 
paper-faced  villain !" 

75.  hath.     So  F.  4  and  the  Qq.     The  earlier  Folios  read  'have'. 
Mr.  Wright  thinks  the  plural,  if  genuine,  may  be  explained   by 
taking  what  as  ='  what  things',  as  in  Coriolanus,  i.  2.  4. 

75,  76.  cowarded  and  chased  your  blood  Out  of  appear- 
ance, made  your  blood  run  like  a  coward  out  of  sight. 

76,  77.  do  confess... do  submit.     Cp.  line  3,  note. 

77,  me,  myself.     Cp.  i.  2.  93,  note. 

79.  quick,   in   its  original   meaning  ='  alive,   lively'.      Cp.  the 
words  of  the  Creed,  "the  quick  and  the  dead". 

86.  apt,  ready.     Cp.  Juliu s  Casar,  iii.  I.  1 60 — 

"  Live  a  thousand  years, 
I  shall  not  find  myself  so  apt  to  die  ". 

accord,  agree,  consent.     Cp.  A  Lover's  Complaint,  3— 
"  My  spirits  to  attend  this  double  voice  accorded". 

87,  88.  appertinents  Belonging  to,  a  tautology  =  'things  apper- 
taining to'. 

90.  sworn  unto  the  practices  of  France,  sworn  his  adherence 
to  a  French  plot. 

practices,  stratagems,  plots.     Cp.  line  144  below. 

92.  for  bounty,  for  kindness  shown  him  by  us. 

95.   Ingrateful.      Shakespeare    has   the   three  forms,    ingrate, 
ingrateful,  ungrateful. 

99.  Wouldst  thou  have  practised  on  me  for  thy  use,  if  thou 
hadst  been  willing  to  use  thine  arts  upon  me  for  thy  benefit 

too.   May  =  'can',  and  in  line  102,  might= '  could'.      Cp.  i.  P, 
12,  note. 


150  KING   HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

ica.   annoy,  hurt.     Cp.  a  Henry  £'/.,  iii.  I.  67,  "thorns  that 
would  annoy  our  foot '  . 

103,  104.  stands  off  as  gross   As   black  and  white,  stand: 
out  as  plain  as  black  against  white,  or  white  against  black. 

For  gross  cp.  All's  Well,  &c.,  i.  3.  178 — 

"to  all  sense 
'T  is  gross  you  love  our  son  ", 

and  line  106  below. 

104.  will  scarcely,  is  scarcely  willing  to. 

107.  Working   so  grossly  in  a  natural  cause,  &c. ,  working 
so  palpably  in  a  cause  natural  to  them,  that  no  sudden  cry  of  wonder 
was  ever  excited. 

108.  admiration,  wonder.     Cp.  Macbeth,  iii.  4.  no,  "with  most 
admired  disorder". 

hoop.  Cp.  As  You  Like  //,  iii.  2.  179,  "wonderful  and  after 
that  (i.e.  more  than  that)  out  of  all  hooping  (i.e.  beyond  all  cries  of 
astonishment)".  Our  modern  form  whoop  (for  which  Mr.  Wright 
gives  a  reference  as  early  as  1530)  is  due  to  a  pronunciation  with  w. 
Cp.  -whole  (O.  E.  hdl),  and  our  pronunciation  of  one  (O.  E.  dn). 

109.  proportion,  seemliness,  what  was  becoming  to  your  position. 
Cp.  iv.  i.  138. 

112.  preposterously,  perversely,  contrary  to  the  natural  order  of 
things,  (Latin  praposterus,  hind  part  first). 

113.  Hath   got   the  voice,   hath  won    the   vote  or  expressed 
judgment. 

114.  All.     Hanmer's  correction.     Ff.  read  And. 
suggest,  tempt.     Cp.  Richard  //.,  iii.  4.  75 — 

"  What  Eve,  what  serpent  hath  suggested  thee 
To  make  a  second  fall  of  cursed  man?" 

115.  They  tempt  a  man  to  commit  a  damnable  deed  by  patching  it 
up  as  best  they  can  with  the  radiant  outward  shows  of  piety. 

116.  with  forms  being  fetch'd.     Being  fetched  is  not,  I  think, 
a  mere  participle  (  =  fetched).     The  repetition  of  with  suggests  that 
what  follows  is  not  in  strict  co-ordination  with  'patches,  colours'. 
I  consider  'being  fetched'  is  a  sort  of  passive  verbal  noun.      In 
Modern  English  we  can  say,  "  It  all  happened  through  his  father 
(or  'father's')  being  sent  for  ".    Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  i.  3.  49,  "smarting 
with  my  wounds  being  cold  ". 

118.   temper'd   thee,  moulded  thee  like  wax   to   his  purpose. 
Cp.  v.  2.  214. 

bade  thee  stand  up.  The  point  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the 
word  bade.  He  did  not  try  to  deceive  or  juggle,  he  called  thee  up 
as  one  calls  a  servant  to  perform  a  task. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  151 

lig.  instance,  cause  or  motive.     Cp.  Richard  III.,  iii.  2.  25 — 
"  Tell  him  his  fears  are  shallow,  wanting  instance". 

1 20.  dub,  strictly  'to  make  a  knight',  see  iv.  8.  80,  note;  then 
'  to  raise  to  any  dignity'.     Cp.  Richard  III.,  i.  I.  82,  "  dubbed  them 
gentlewomen".     Here  it  is  used  ironically. 

thee,  thyself  (reflexive).     Cp.  line  77  and  i.  2.  93,  note. 

121.  gull'd   thee,  befooled  thee.     A  young  bird  was  called  a 
•gull',  and  the  word  became  synonymous  with  fool,  dupe.     Cp. 
iii.  6.  64. 

122.  lion  gait.     An  allusion  to  /  St.  Peter,  \.  8. 

123.  vasty.     See  Glossary. 

Tartar,  hell.  Tartarus  in  classical  mythology  was  the  place  of 
torment  in  the  lower  world.  Shakespeare  in  associating  the  devil 
with  Tartarus  is  mingling  Christian  and  heathen  conceptions.  Cp. 
Twelfth  Night,  ii.  5.  225— 

"  Mar.   If  you  will  see  it,  follow  me. 
Sir  To.  To  the  gates  of  Tartar,  thou  most  excellent  devil  of  wit." 

124.  legions,  i.e.  of  devils. 

126.  jealousy,  suspicion. 

127.  affiance,  trust.      Cp.  the  words  of  the  Litany,   "that  she 
may  evermore  have  affiance  in  thee  ". 

Show,  appear.     Cp.  Merchant  of  Venice,  iv.  I.  192 — 
' '  And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice". 

For  the  interrogative  form,  cp.  line  3,  note. 

132.  or... or.     Cp.  i.  2.  12,  225. 

133.  Constant,  steady,  unshaken. 

blood,  stands  for  the  passionate  part  of  a  man.  Cp.  Othello,  L 
3-  339.  "  It  (*'•'•  love)  is  merely  a  lust  of  the  blood  and  a  permission 
of  the  will",  and  ii.  3.  4  below  (note). 

134.  Garnish'd  and  deck'd  in  modest  complement,  adorned 
with  a  modest  exterior.     For  complement  see  Glossary. 

r35.  T36-  He  supplemented  the  evidence  of  the  eye  by  that  of  the 
ear,  and  did  not  let  himself  trust  to  the  evidence  of  either  sense  til) 
he  had  purged  his  judgment  from  being  coloured  by  his  feelings. 

137.  boulted,  sifted.     See  Glossary. 

139.  mark.  Theobald  first  read  mark  instead  of  make  given  by 
the  Ff. 

the  full-fraught  man  and  best  indued,  the  man  freighted 
to  the  full  and  best  endowed  in  the  way  of  good  qualities. 

141.  methinks.     See  Glossary. 


I5«  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

143.  Another  fall  of  man.    The  falling  away  from  loyalty  of  such 
a  man  as  thou  wast  is  like  Adam's  fall  from  a  state  of  innocence. 

143.  to  the  answer  of  the  law,  to  give  the  satisfaction  required 
by  the  law.     Cp.  Cymbeline,  iv.  4.  13 — 

"that 
Which  we  have  done,  whose  answer  would  be  death". 

144.  practices,  dark  designs,  plots.     See  line  90  above. 

145.  I  arrest  thee  of,  where  we  should  say,  '  I  arrest  thee /or', 
or  'on  the  charge  of.     Mr.  Deighton  writes:  "  Shakespeare  generally 
uses  of  \.Q  express  the  cause  of  seizure  as  here;  but  in  Measure  for 
Measure,  i.  4.  66,  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  2.  49,  and  Lear,  v.  3.  82, 
the  preposition  is  on  ". 

151.  discover'd,  laid  bare,  revealed.     This  is  the  usual  sense  of 
the  word  in  Shakespeare. 

152.  repent,  regret.     Repent  in  modern  English  is  confined  to 
the  sense,  to  regret  a  fault. 

153.  Which,  i.e.  'my  fault'. 

155.  For  me,  as  for  me.     These  words  anticipate  the  object  of 
seduce,  which  is  then  omitted. 

156.  admit  it  as  a  motive,  accept  it  as  a  means. 

motive,  here  =  force,  instrument.     With  us  the  word  means 
'a  force  acting  on  the  will'.     Cp.  All 's  Well,  &c.,  iv.  4,  20 — 

"  heaven 

...hath  fated  her  to  be  my  motive  (  —  instrument) 
And  helper  to  a  husband". 

157.  what  I  intended.   This,  according  to  Holinshed,  and  Cam- 
bridge's own  confession,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  was  to  put  on 
the  throne  his  childless  brother-in-law  Edmund,  Earl  of  March,  the 
heir  of  Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence.     We  see  in  this  plot  the  beginning 
of  the  Yorkist  claim  to  the  throne. 

159.  Which    I... will   rejoice.      For   rejoice  =  ' rejoice   at',    cp. 
Richard  III.,  iii.  2.  163,  "  Scoffing  his  state". 

in  sufferance,  in  suffering  my  punishment. 
166.  quit,  absolve.     Cp.  As  You  Like  It,  iii.  I.  n — 
11  Till  thou  canst  quit  thee  by  thy  brother's  mouth 
Of  what  we  think  against  thee". 

1 68.  an  enemy  proclaim'd,  a  declared  enemy. 

169.  earnest,  sum  paid  in  advance  as  a  pledge  of  more  to  be  paid 
when  the  other  side  has  carried  out  his  part  of  the  agreement     Cp. 
v.  I.  57,  and  Cymbeline,  i.  5.  64 — 

"  Nay,  I  prithee,  take  it: 
It  is  an  earnest  of  a  further  good 
That  I  mean  to  thee". 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  153 

175.  tender,  cherish.     Cp.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iii.  I.  74 — 

"which  name  I  tender 
As  dearly  as  my  own". 

176.  you  have  sought.     This  is  the  reading  of  the  Qq.  adopted 
by  Knight.   F.  I  has  '  you  sought ',  the  other  Ff. ,  '  you  three  sought '. 

177.  do  deliver.     See  1.  3  note. 

Get  you.      You  is  in  the  objective  case  (cp.  i.  2.  93,  note),  as 
seen  from  iv.  i.  254.     Shakespeare  does  not  use  the  full  reflexive 
forms,  yourself,  himself,  £c.,  with^z/. 

179.  taste.     Cp.  1.  51. 

181.  dear,  grievous.    See  Glossary. 

183.  like,  equally.     Cp.  Tempest,  iii.  3.  66 — 

"  My  fellow-ministers 
Are  like  invulnerable". 

188.  every  rub  is  smoothed  on  our  way,  i.e.  'every  obstacle'. 
A  metaphor  from  the  game  of  bowls,  in  which  the  term  rub  was 
applied  to  any  irregularity  in  the  ground  which  turned  the  bowl  from 
its  course.  Cp.  King  John,  iii.  4.  128 — 

"Shall  blow  each  dust,  each  straw,  each  little  rub 
Out  of  the  path"; 

and  Hamlet,  iii.  I.  65,  "there's  the  rub".     Also  v.  ii.  33  below. 

191.  Putting  it  straight  in  expedition,  setting  it  at  once  in 
motion. 

192.  Cheerly,  cheerily  (which  form  is  not  used  by  Shakespeare). 

the  signs  of  war  advance,  hoist  or  raise  the  standards. 
Advance  in  Shakespeare  generally  means  '  raise  '.  Cp.  Tempest,  iv. 
I.  177— 

"  they  prick'd  their  ears, 
Advanced  their  eyelids,  lifted  up  their  noses  "; 

and  v.  2.  333  below. 

Scene  3. 

The  scene  takes  us  back  to  London.  As  the  end  of  the  preceding 
scene  showed  us  Henry  V.  starting  on  his  expedition  with  the  bold 
courage  of  youthful  years  and  a  tranquil  conscience,  this  scene  shows 
us  the  very  different  leave-taking  of  Pistol,  Nym,  and  Bardolph. 
But  its  deepest  interest  is  incidental.  In  the  account  of  the  death  of 
Falstaff,  Shakespeare  appeals  with  all  the  power  of  his  genius  to  our 
smiles  and  our  tears  at  the  same  moment.  Falstaff  was  no  hero,  and 
we  may  be  sure  he  died  as  he  had  lived.  If  the  account  of  his  death 
§cene  had  contained  one  solemn  or  conventional  term,  we  should 


154  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  It 

have  felt  at  once  something  incongruous  with  his  character.  At  the 
same  time  the  audience  who  knew  him  in  Henry  IV.  could  not  but 
have  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  fat  knight  whose  valour  was  so  small, 
but  whose  humour  and  resource  were  perennial.  Shakespeare  with 
his  marvellous  instinct  has  put  the  account  of  FalstafFs  end  in  the 
mouth  of  Hostess  Quickly — a  common  woman  who  never  speaks 
without  some  confusion  of  language,  but  still  a  woman.  It  brings 
Falstaff  nearer  to  our  sympathy  when  we  know  that  he  did  not  die 
among  his  boon-fellows,  but  with  a  woman  to  wait  on  him  and  to 
note  the  little  signs  of  return  to  childhood  which  preceded  the  end. 

Shakespeare,  who,  to  give  a  deeper  truth  to  his  picture,  makes  his 
most  heroic  characters  of  common  clay,  and  after  his  most  elevated 
scenes  descends  at  once  to  a  laugh,  finds  something  in  the  death  of  a 
cowardly  loose-living  old  man  to  touch  our  common  humanity — 
"  Falstaffheis  dead,  and  we  must  yearn  therefore". 

1.  bring  thee,  accompany  thee.      Cp.  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  3.  122, 
"  Shall  I  bring  thee  on  the  way". 

2.  Staines,  as  Mr.  Wright  says,  "  was  the  first  stage  on  the  road 
from  London  to  Southampton  ". 

3.  yearn,  grieve.     See  Glossary. 

4.  Pistol  alliterates  again.     So  in  lines  49,  50. 

veins,  put  for  '  spirit'.    Cp.  the  use  of  '  blood  ',  ii.  2.  133. 

5.  Falstaff  he.     The  insertion  of  the  pronoun  after  the  subject 
is  common  with  uneducated  speakers. 

7.  wheresome'er.  A  vulgarism  for  wheresoever.  Cp.  All 's 
Well,  &c. ,  iii.  5.  S4>  '  whatsome'er '. 

g.  Arthur's  bosom.  The  Hostess  with  one  of  her  usual  slips 
of  the  tongue  says  '  Arthur's  '  bosom  for  '  Abraham's '  bosom.  Cp. 
St.  Luke,  xvi.  22,  and  Richard  III.,  iv.  3.  38 — 

"  The  sons  of  Edward  sleep  in  Abraham's  bosom  ". 

10.  a',  he.  The  form  is  used  by  people  of  all  classes  in  Shake- 
speare. 

10,  11.  a  finer  end... an  it,  &c.  Most  editors,  taking  the  words 
'  went  away  and,  &c.  '  = '  went  away  as  if,  (the  Qq.  have  '  He  went 
away  as  if  it  were,  &c.'),  have  found  a  difficulty  in  the  comparative 
finer.  Some  read  fine,  while  Mr.  Wright  suggests  that  finer  end 
is  one  of  the  Hostess's  slips  {or  final  end.  It  seems  better  to  dis- 
regard the  slight  authority  of  the  Qq.,  and  follow  Dr.  Murray  in 
taking  'an  it  had  been' =  ' than  (if)  it  had  been'.  For  instances 
of  an,  and— than,  see  Murray's  Dictionary.  In  this  sense  the  form 
an  was  the  original  one  and  and  the  corruption.  The  interpolation 
of  the  words,  'and  went  away',  between  the  compar  adj.  and  its 
clause  does  not  present  any  real  difficulty,  the  sense  being — 'he 
made  an  end  and  went  away  in  finer  fashion  than  if,  &c. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  155 

ii.  christom.  The  word  is  a  corruption  by  Hostess  Pistol  of 
chrisom,  for  which  see  Glossary. 

parted,  departed.     Used  also  of  death  in  Macbeth,  v.  8.  52 — 
"  They  say  he  parted  well  and  paid  his  score, 
And  so,  God  be  with  him  ! " 

12,13.  at  the  turning  o'  the  tide.  It  was  a  common  belief— held 
even  by  Aristotle  and  Pliny — that  people  living  near  the  sea-shore 
died  only  with  the  ebb  of  the  tide.  Dickens,  in  David  Copperfield, 
after  making  Mr.  Peggotty  say  of  Barkis,  "  He'll  hold  his  own  till 
past  the  flood  and  go  out  with  the  next  tide  ",  concludes  his  story, 
"And  it  being  low  water,  he  went  out  with  the  tide".  Mr. 
Staunton,  in  the  Athen&um,  Nov.  8,  1873,  thinks  the  Hostess  refers 
only  to  the  '  tide  of  time  '.  He  quotes  Donne's  description  of  mid- 
night as  "Time's  dead  low-water",  and  tries  to  show  that  the  hours 
following  midnight  were  considered  an  auspicious  time  of  death. 

13,  fumble  with  the  sheets,  &c.     These  signs  of  approaching 
death  have  been  noticed  by  others  besides  Hostess  Quickly.    Steevens 
pointed  out  that  one  of  the  signs  of  death  enumerated  by  Pliny  (vii. 
51,  Holland's  translation)  was  "  to  keepe  a  fumbling  and  pleiting  of 
the  bed-clothes  ".     In  Wuthering  Heights  (ch.  xii.),  by  Emily  Bronte, 
Mrs.  Linton  before  death  "seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  pulling  the 
feathers  from  the  rents  she  had  just  made  "  (in  the  pillow). 

14,  15.  I  knew  there  was  but  one  way,  a  euphemism  for  '  I 
knew  he  must  die '.     Steevens  quotes  from  If  you  know  not  me, 
you  know  nobody  (1605) — 

"  I  heard  the  doctors  whisper  it  in  secret, 
There  is  no  way  but  one  ". 

15,  16.  and  a*  babbled  of  green  fields.    This  most  famous  emen- 
dation was  proposed  by  Theobald.     The  Qq.  omit  any  such  words, 
though  for  'play  with  flowers'  above,  they  have  'talk  of  floures'; 
the  Ff.  give  'and  a  Table  of  greene  fields'.     Pope  thought  that 
Greenfield  was  the  name  of  the  man  who  furnished  the  stage-pro- 
perties at  the  time,  and  that  the  words  in  the  Ff.  were  intended  to 
be  a  stage  -  direction,  'A  Table  of  Greenfield's'  meaning   that  a 
table  was  to  be  brought  in  at  this  point  for  Pistol  and  the  rest  to 
drink  a  last  glass  before  starting.     But  neither  this  nor  more  recent 
suggestions  carry  much  conviction,  while   the  words  suggested  by 
Theobald  are  so  much  in  the  spirit  of  'the  rest  of  Shakespeare's 
description,  that  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  they  are  not  very  near  to 
what  Shakespeare  wrote. 

23.  and  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone.  The  Ff.  do  not 
give  these  words  the  second  time.  Capell  introduced  them  into  the 
text  from  the  Qq. 

25.  cried  out  of  sack,  cried  out  against  sack.  Sack  had  been 
his  enemy. 

sack,  the  French  vin  sec,  dry  wine. 


156  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

28,  39.  incarnate.  The  Hostess  takes  the  word  to  mean  a  colour 
(Fr.  in(amat).  Mr.  Wright  quotes  from  Holland's  Pliny,  xiv.  I 
(vol.  i.  p.  405),  "  In  one  place  they  are  of  a  fresh  and  bright  purple, 
in  another  of  a  glittering,  incarnate,  and  rosate  colour".  In  Twelfth 
Night,  v.  i.  184,  Sir  Andrew  turns  'incarnate'  into  '  incardinate ' 
— "  He 's  the  very  devil  incardinate  ". 

34.  in  some  sort,  to  some  extent,     handle,  treat  of,  touch  on. 

35.  rheumatic.     Apparently  used  by  the  Hostess  both  here  and 
in  i  Henry  IV.,  ii.  4.  62= '  humorous,  testy  '. 

36.  37.   Bardolph's  nose.     Bardolph's  fiery  red  face  is  referred 
to  ir.  ii.  I.  74;  iii.  2.  29;  and  iii.  6.  95. 

39.  the  fuel  is  gone  that  maintained  that  fire.  Bardolph 
means  that  Falstaff  had  provided  the  liquor  which  had  made  his 
nose  so  fiery.  In  /  Henry  IV.,  iii.  3.  53,  Falstaff  says  to  Bardolph, 
"  I  have  maintained  that  salamander  of  yours  with  fire  any  time  this 
two  and  thirty  years  ". 
41.  snog.  See  Glossary. 

be  gone.    Cp.  ii.  P.  34,  n. 

43.  The  early  part  of  Pistol's  speech  is  printed  as  prose  in  the  Ff. 
Our  arrangement  is  due  to  Capell. 

let's  away.     Cp.  ii.  I.  73,  «. 

45.  Let  senses  rule.  Probably  means,  keep  your  eyes  and  ears 
on  the  alert  so  as  not  to  be  taken  in. 

word.     So  Q.  i  and  Q.  3.     The  Ff.  and  Q.  2  have  '  world '. 
Pitch  and  Pay,  a  proverbial  expression  for  ready-money  pay- 
ment.    The  quotations  given  by  Farmer  suggest  that  the  expression 
arose  from  the  fact  that  those  who  brought  cloth  to  market  had  to 
pay  a  penny  after  pitching  it,  i.e.  depositing  it  for  sale. 

47.  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes,  i.e.  very  easily  broken. 

48.  hold-fast.     The  proverb  ran,   "Brag  is  a  good  dog,   but 
Hold-fast  is  a  better  ". 

49.  Caveto,  imperative  of  Lat.  caveo,  means  '  Be  war)- ! '  '  Caution  ! ' 

50.  clear  thy  crystals.     This,   in  that  kind  of  poetic  diction 
which  Pistol  loves  and  Shakespeare  laughs  at,  means,  '  Wipe  thine 
eyes '. 

Yoke-fellows,  companions.  Shakespeare  borrowed  the  ex- 
pression perhaps  from  Tyndale's  version  of  Epistle  to  the  Philippiam, 
iv.  3,  where  it  is  a  literal  translation  of  the  Greek.  The  metaphor 
is  taken  from  two  oxen  under  the  same  yoke.  Cp.  iv.  6.  9. 

57.  Let  housewifery  appear:  keep  close.  Let  your  attention 
to  the  house  be  manifest,  keep  indoors. 

For  appear  cp.  ii.  2.  57. 

For  close  cp.  Hamlet,  iv.  7.  130,  "keep  close  within  your 
chamber  ". 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  157 

Scene  4. 

The  scene  introduces  us  to  the  French  king,  the  Dauphin,  and 
the  court  of  France.  The  king  is  represented  as  full  of  apprehension 
in  view  of  the  expected  English  invasion.  He  remembers  too  well 
the  disasters  sustained  by  France  seventy  years  before  at  Cressy  and 
Poictiers.  The  Dauphin,  while  agreeing  that  forces  must  be  raised 
for  the  defence  of  the  kingdom,  disclaims  any  fear  of  the  issue  on 
account  of  the  frivolous  character  which  he  attributes  to  Henry.  The 
Constable  of  France,  speaking  on  the  report  of  the  ambassadors 
recently  sent  to  England,  assures  the  Dauphin  that  he  greatly  mis- 
takes Henry's  character,  and  speaks  of  Henry  in  terms  of  admiration, 
which,  coming  from  this  great  Frenchman,  are  well  calculated  to 
move  the  patriotic  feelings  of  the  audience. 

An  English  embassy,  of  which  Lord  Exeter  is  spokesman,  is  now 
introduced,  and  the  French  king  is  required  to  surrender  to  Henry 
the  crown  of  France  and  its  appurtenances  on  pain  of  war.  A  special 
message  of  scorn  is  addressed  to  the  Dauphin  in  reference  to  his 
present  of  tennis-balls.  The  Dauphin  declares  he  only  desires  war 
with  England.  The  King  of  France  reserves  his  answer  till  next  day. 

For  Shakespeare's  divergence  from  Holinshed  in  regard  to  the 
date  of  Exeter's  embassy,  see  Introduction,  §  6. 

1.  Thus  comes  the   English.     Mr.  Wright  accounts  for  the 
sing,   form   '  comes '   by   saying  that  '  the  English '  — '  the   English 
king'.    Cp.  iv.  4.  73,  'the  French'  (followed  by  'he'),  'the  Turk', 
v.  2.  199. 

It  is  more  probable  that  this  is  a  case  of  the  verb  being  put  in  the 
sing,  with  a  plural  subject  following.  See  Appendix  IV.  (d). 

2.  carefully  qualifies  concerns.     '  It  is  more  than  a  common  care 
to  us.' 

3.  To  answer,  to  meet  the  attack. 

5.  make  forth,  go  forth.   We  still  speak  of  '  making  for '  a  place. 

7,  8.   '  To  strengthen  and  replenish  our  strongholds  with  brave 
men  and  means  of  defence.' 

For  line,  cp.  Macbeth,  i.  3.  112 — 

"  did  line  the  rebel 
With  hidden  help  and  vantage  ". 

8.  defendant,  here  an  adj.     In  Mod.  Eng.  used  only  as  a  sub- 
stantive. 

g.  England,  the  King  of  England.  He  comes  on  with  a  rush, 
as  waters  are  drawn  towards  a  whirlpool,  or  lower  level.  For  gulf 
in  this  sense  cp.  iv.  3.  82. 

ii.   fits,  is  fitting  to,  befits. 

11,  12.  'As  prudent  as  fear  may  teach  us  to  be,  after  the  recent 
examples  of  their  power  which  the  English  have  given  us.' 


158  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II. 

13.   fatal  and  neglected,  coming  on  us  armed  with  death  after 
we  had  made  t<w  light  of  them.     The  king  refers,  of  course,  to  the 
of  Cressy,  1346,  and  I'oictiers,  1356. 


17.  Though  war,  even  though  no  war  nor  any  ____  The  negative 
is  omitted  in  one  clause,  and  doubled  in  the  other.  Cp.  line  85. 

19.  The  three  verl>s  correspond  severally  to  the  three  substantivec 
of  the  preceding  line. 

20.  As  were.     Since 

4  Were  a  war  in  expectation  '='  if  a  war  were',  &c. 
therefore, 

"  As  were  a  war",  &c.      '  as  if  a  war  were',  &c. 
22.   sick,  used  metaphorically  —  '  weak  '. 

25.  Whitsun  morris-dance.     See  Glossary,  moms-dance. 

26.  liege.     See  Glossary. 

idly  king'd.     The  participial  suffix   -ed  is  often  added  to  a 
noun  to  express  the  sense  'furnished  with  '. 

28.  humorous,  full  of  humours  or  whims. 

29.  attends,  accompanies.     Cp.  /  Henry  //".,  v.  I.  in. 
34.   in  exception,  in  making  objections.     Cp.  iv.  2.  25. 

37.  the  Roman  Brutus.  Brutus,  who  in  the  reign  of  Tarquinius 
Suuerbus  assumed  madness  to  conceal  his  plans  for  the  liberation  of 
his  country.  Cp.  Litcrece,  1807-1817. 

41.  well,  't  is  not  so,  t.e.  '  In  deference  to  you,  I  will  admit  I 
am  wrong". 

43.  '  When  put  on  your  defence,  it  is  best  to  overrate  the  power 
of  the  enemy;  in  this  way  the  forces  necessary  for  defence  are  fully 
made  up;  for  if  defence  is  planned  on  too  mean  a  scale  it  resembles 
a  miser  who  to  save  a  little  cloth  spoils  his  coat.'  If  this  is  the 
sense  of  the  passage,  lines  47  and  48  contain  a  bold  personification 
of  Defence,  which  is  here  the  '  defending  power  ',  though  in  line  46 
it  stood  for  'defensive  measures'. 

48.  Think  we,  let  us  think. 

49.  look,  see  that,  &c. 

50.  of  him.      Shakespeare  sometimes  uses  the    later  possessive 
form  with  'of,  where  we  use  the  inflexional  possessive.    Cp.  line  64 
below. 

flesh'd,  a  metaphor  from  the  practice  of  training  hawks  and 
hounds  on  flesh.     Cp.  iii.  3.  II. 

51.  strain,  breed. 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  159 

52.  haunted  us.     Haunt  is  often  used  of  persistent  following  by 
an  enemy.     Cp.  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iv.  I.  9 — 

"  You  told  how  Diomed,  a  whole  week  by  days, 
Did  haunt  you  in  the  field  "; 

and  /  Henry  IV.,  v.  3.  4 — 

"  I  do  haunt  thee  in  the  battle  thus 
Because  some  tell  me  that  thou  art  a  king". 

53.  too  much  memorable.     For  'too  much'  — 'too'  before  an 
adj.,  cp.  Richard II.,  ii.  2.  I,  "Madam,  your  majesty  is  too  much 
sad  ". 

54.  When  Cressy  battle... was  struck.     'To  strike  a  battle' 
seems  to  have  been  a  usual  phrase.     Mr.  Wright  quotes  from  Holin- 
shed :  ' '  where  his  great  grandfather  King  Edward  the  third  a  little 
before  had  striken  the  battell  of  Cressie  ". 

55.  captived,  taken  captive.     '  In  very  common  use  in  l6th-i8th 
centuries'  (Murray).      The  word  capture  does  not  occur  in  Shake- 
speare, either  as  verb  or  subs. 

57.  his  mountain  sire.     If  this  is  what  Shakespeare  wrote,  it  is 
an  example  of  his  excessive  love  of  a  play  on  words.     One  must  take 
the  words  '  mountain  sire'  to  mean  '  his  sire  who  in  greatness  over- 
topped his  fellows ' ;  but  the  expression  is  awkward  to  a  degree. 
Steevens  defends  it  by  a  quotation  from  Spenser,  F.  Q. — 
"  When  stretch'd  he  lay  upon  the  sunny  side 
Of  a  great  hill,  himself  like  a  great  hill". 

Theobald  read  'mounting  sire'.     Did  Shakespeare  write 'mounten' 
=  ' mounted'?    Cp.  iv.  i.  102,  note,  "fretten"  (Merchant  of  Venice, 
iv.  I.  77)  and  "  moulten  raven"  (/  Henry  IV.,  iii.  I.  152). 
On  the  general  topic  cp.  i.  2.  108. 

59.  heroical.     Cp.  majestical,  iii.  P.  16,  iv.  i.  251. 

60.  i.e.  mangle  the  'human  form  divine'  of  his  enemies. 

64.  fate  of  him,  not  '  what  he  is  destined  to  suffer',  but  '  what 
he  is  destined  to  <&'. 

of  him.     Cp.  line  50  above. 

69.  Turn  head.     Head  is  used  technically  of  the  horns  of  a  deer. 
The  same  metaphor  occurs  in  /  Henry  VI.,  iv.  2.  51,  "  Turn  on  the 
bloody  hounds  with  heads  of  steel ". 

70.  spend  their  mouths,  give  cry.     Cp.  Venus  and  Adonis,  695. 

71.  Good  my  sovereign.     See  iv.  6.  22,  note. 

72.  Take  up  the  English  short,  be  short  with  them,  do  not 
suffer  them  to  go  to  great  lengths  with  you. 

78.  lay  apart,  lay  aside.     Cp.  iii.  7.  35. 

80.  longs.     This  is  the  reading  of  all  the  Ff.  and  Qq.      Cp.  for 
the  singular  form,  Appendix  iv.  (b).     There  is  no  reason  for  writing 


160  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  II.  Sc.  4. 

'tongs,  any  more  than  'gins.  The  verb  to  '  long'- '  belong'  is 
common  in  Shakespeare.  Cp.  Chaucer,  Squieres  Tale,  F.  16, 
"  Him  lakked  noght  that  longeth  to  a  king". 

83.  the  ordinance  of  times,  the  enactment  of  ages. 

85.  sinister,  awkward,  both  words  mean  '  left-handed',  and  so 
illegitimate. 

nor  no.     Cp.  line  17. 

88.  memorable,  worthy  of  being  noted  and  remembered, 
line,  genealogy,  family  tree. 

91.  evenly,  in  a  straight  line. 

94,  95.  indirectly  held  From  him  the  native  and  true 
challenger,  wrongfully  withheld  from  him  the  natural  and  lawful 
claimant. 

96.  Or  else  what  follows?  Similarly  King  John,  when 
summoned  to  surrender  his  possessions  to  Arthur,  asks  (A'l'ng  John, 
i.  I.  16)  "What  follows  if  we  disallow  of  this?" and  is  answered, 
"  The  proud  control  of  fierce  and  bloody  war  ". 

99.  fierce  is  metrically  a  dissyllable. 

101.  That,  so  that.     Cp.  i.  I.  47. 
requiring,  merely  — 'asking'. 

102,  103.  bids  you. ..Deliver. ..and  to  take  mercy.      For  to 

omitted  before  the  first  infinitive  but  inserted  before  the  second,  cp. 
Pericles,  i.  2.  31  — 

"  Makes  both  my  Ixxly  pine  and  soul  to  languish". 

102.  in  the  bowels  of  the  Lord.  The  expression  occurs  in 
Holinshed's  account  of  the  letters  sent  by  Henry  from  Southampton. 
"  Neuerthelesse  exhorted  the  French  King  in  the  bowels  of  Jesu 
Christ,  to  render  him  that  which  was  his  owne,  whereby  effusion  of 
Christian  bloud  might  lie  auoided."  The  phrase  is  taken  from  St. 
Paul,  Philippians,  i.  8,  "  I  long  after  you  all  in  the  bowels  of  Christ". 
The  bowels  stood  for  the  seat  of  tenderness  and  compassion. 

105.  his  -  its.     See  Glossary,  '/'/'. 
vasty.  See  Glossary. 

107.  pining,  adopted  by  Pope  from  the  Qq.,  the  Ff.  giving 
'privy'. 

113.   For  us,  As  for  ourselves.     Cp.  line  115  and  i.  2.  114,  note. 

117.   I  print  the  line  as  in  the  Ff. 

1 20.  an  if.  I  follow  the  modern  custom  of  writing  an  in  this 
conditional  sense  as  a  matter  of  convenience,  but  it  would  be  more 
correct  to  write  and.  The  form  an—  '  if  hardly  occurs  before  1600, 
whereas  and  in  this  sense  was  common.  The  conditional  notion 
was  originally  in  the  following  verb,  not  in  the  and,  which  was 


Act  III.  Prol.]  NOTES.  161 

used  in  its  copulative  sense.     See  Abbott,  §  102,  103.     Later,  the 
conditional  sense  of  and,  an  was  strengthened  by  the  addition  of  if. 

121.  in  grant  of,  by  granting. 

124.  womby  vaultages,  deep  caverns.  The  sense  of  the  passage 
is,  Henry  will  call  so  loudly  and  urgently  for  satisfaction  that  the 
caves  of  France  ringing  with  the  echo  of  his  guns  will  seem  to  rebuke 
you  and  return  your  insult.  For  womby  cp.  Glossary,  '  vasty'. 

126.  second  accent,  echo. 

ordinance  (thus  spelt  in  the  Ff.).  Though  in  the  sense  of  our 
modern  '  ordnance',  the  metre  here  requires  the  word  to  keep  its 
earlier  form.  In  iii.  P.  26,  the  middle  vowel  is  syncopated,  and  the 
word  is  pronounced  as  a  dissyllable,  as  in  modern  English. 

129.   odds,  quarrel,  strife.     Cp.  iv.  3.  5>  note,  and  Glossary. 

136.  greener,  younger.     Cp.  v.  2.  140. 

137.  these  he  masters  now,  'these  (days)  which  now  are  his'. 
For  masters  — '  possesses ',  cp.  Sonnet  103.   8,   "Such  a  beauty  as 
you  master  now  ". 

140.  The  Ff.  after  this  line  have  the  stage-direction  '  Flourish', 
which  generally  precedes  the  exit  of  a  royal  personage  from  the  stage. 
It  was  suggested  by  Capell  that  at  this  point  the  French  king  rose, 
but  Exeter  refused  to  be  dismissed  without  a  word  more.  Most 
editors  transfer  the  '  Flourish '  to  the  end  of  the  scene. 

143.  footed,  landed. 

145.  breath,  used  for  a  '  brief  space  of  time',  '  a  breathing-space'. 
Cp.  Richard  III.,  iv.  2.  24,  "Give  me  some  breath,  some  little 
pause,  my  lord  ". 


Act  III.— Prologue. 

In  the  last  act  we  left  the  English  king  at  Southampton;  when 
we  meet  him  next  he  will  be  already  in  France.  It  is  the  function 
of '  Chorus '  to  bridge  this  gulf  by  appealing  to  the  audience  to  see  for 
themselves  with  the  eye  of  imagination  the  English  host  first  on  its 
way  across  the  Channel,  and  then  investing  Harfleur.  The  French 
king  sends  an  embassy  with  terms  of  peace,  which  are  declined,  and 
the  attack  on  the  town  begins. 

i.  with  imagined  wing,  on  the  wing  of  imagination.  The  poet 
appeals  to  his  audience,  as  in  the  prologue  to  act  i.,  to.  picture  in 
their  minds  what  cannot  be  set  before  them  on  the  stage. 

4.  well-appointed,  well-equipped.  Cp.  Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4. 
603,  "royally  appointed  ". 

Hampton.    Theobald's  correction.  The  Ff.  read  '  Dover '. 
(M178)  L 


162  KIXC.    1IKXRY  THK   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

5.  his  royalty,  taken  by  Schmidt  — '  his  majesty  ',  i.e.   himself. 
This  seems  to  me  turgid.     I  think  '  royalty '  means  '  his  royal  stale 
and  surroundings'. 

brave,  gay,  making  a  gallant  show. 

6.  the  young  Phoebus  fanning.     An  example  of  poetic  fancy. 
For  a  moment  the  poet  sees  not  merely  a  fleet  with  its  tx:nnons 
waving  in  the  sunshine,  but  a  living  being  fanning  the  hot  face  of  a 
god.      In  a  similar  line,  Macbeth,  i.  2.  49 — 

"Where  the  Norweyan  banners  flout  the  sky", 

the  mere  word  'flout' makes  us  for  the  moment  think  of  the  banners 
and  the  sky  as  living  agents,  and  in  mutual  connexion.  Under  the 
stimulus  which  such  a  fancy  gives  to  the  mind  we  realize  the  actual 
scene  as  we  could  not  do  from  a  mere  description. 

fanning.      Rowe's   correction.      The    Ff.    read    'fayning*  or 
'  faining '. 

9.  whistle.     Used  by  the  boatswain  in  giving  his  orders. 

10.  threaden.     An  adj.   formed  from  subs,   thread.     Cp.    1.   8, 
hempen.     \Ve  still  say  -wooden,  earthen -ware. 

11.  with  =: by.     Cp.  1.  20. 

12.  bottoms,  vessels. 

14.   rivage,  shore.     The  word,  which  is  originally  French,  is  used 
also  by  Spenser  and  by  the  chronicler  Hall. 

16.  majestical.    So  iv.  I.  251.     Cp.  heroical,  ii.  4.  59. 

17.  Harflew.      I    shall    retain   throughout    this   spelling  of  the 
modern  '  Harfleur'  as  being  that  of  the  Ff.  and  Qq.,  and  practically 
that  of  Shakespeare's  authority,   Holinshed  (' Harflue').      Cp.   the 
Latin  form  '  Harfluvium '.     Any  modernization    is   to  be   avoided 
which  affects  the  rhythm  or  easy  pronunciation  of  one  of  Shake- 
speare's lines.     Cp.  iii.  3.  5°>  note. 

18.  to  sternage  of,  astern  of.     The  word  surname  is  not  found 
elsewhere.       Shakespeare    means,    '  Let    your    minds    follow    the 
vessels  in  their  course'. 

19.  as  dead  midnight  still,  i.e.  still  or  silent  as  night. 

20.  Guarded  with  grandsires.     Similar  alliterations  follow.     In 
1.    21,    '  past  ..pith... puissance';  1.   24,   'culled... cavaliers';   1.  27, 
' gaping... girded  ';  1.  30,  ' daughter... dowry '. 

21.  Either  past,  &c.     The  line  qualifies  'persons'  understood, 
pith,  substance,  strength. 

22.  Here  we  have  one  of  those  humorous  touches  which  in  Shake- 
speare help  to  give  an  everyday  reality  even  to  heroic  scenes.     Cp. 
iv.  3.  50,  note. 

23.  appearing,  visible.     Cp.  ii.  2.  57,  note. 
25.  therein,  i.e.  in  your  thoughts. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  163 

26.  ordnance.      Spelt  in  the   Folios,  ordinance.     The  word  is 
a  collective  subs.  = '  the  guns ' :  hence  the  possess,  their. 

27.  fatal.     Cp.  ii.  4.  13. 
girded,  encircled  by  the  siege. 

30.  to  dowry.  We  should  say,  '  for  a  dowry'.  Cp.  '  to  take  to 
•vife '.  Cp.  iii.  7.  54,  59. 

32.  likes  not,  pleases  not.     Cp.  iv.  i.  16,  iv.  3.  77. 

33.  linstock,  the  stick  to  hold  the  gunner's  match. 
Stage-direction,     chambers.     Small  cannon,  so  called   because 

they  were  loaded  by  means  of  a  detachable  box  or  chamber  contain- 
ing the  powder,  which  was  let  into  the  breech. 
35.  eche  (Ff.  'eech',  'ech'),  eke.     See  Glossary. 

Scenes  I,  2,  3. 

The  first  three  scenes  of  the  act  bring  before  the  audience  the 
siege  of  Harfleur.  In  scene  i.  for  the  first  time  they  see  Henry  as 
soldier,  and  note  with  admiration  that  the  king,  who  had  been  so 
self-contained  under  insult,  so  firm  in  civil  danger,  so  prudent  in 
warlike  preparations,  now  in  the  hour  of  action  burns  with  eager 
courage,  and  inspires  an  army  with  his  own  spirit.  But  Shakespeare 
never  forgets  the  strange  medley  of  qualities,  noble  and  mean, 
awful  and  ridiculous,  which  enters  into  every  human  being  and 
every  human  action.  No  character,  no  action  is  felt  to  be  real  unless 
some  glimpse  is  got  of  these  conflicting  elements  in  it.  And  so 
side  by  side  with  the  Henry  of  scene  I,  we  have  set  before  us  in 
scene  2  other  representatives  of  the  attacking  army,  the  cowardly 
Nym,  the  mouthing  Pistol,  the  shrewd  Boy,  and  after  them  an 
Englishman,  a  Welshman,  an  Irishman,  and  a  Scot  These  by 
their  humours  and  oddities  of  speech  amuse  the  audience,  who 
are  still  never  allowed  to  forget  the  assault  on  the  town  which  is 
taking  place  simultaneously.  In  scene  3  Harfleur  has  sounded  a 
parley.  Henry  offers  the  town  mercy  if  it  submits,  but  threatens 
it  with  the  worst  fate  if  it  persists  in  opposing  him.  The  governor 
yields  the  town,  and  the  scene  ends  with  Henry's  announcement 
that  after  one  night's  rest  he  will  march  for  Calais. 

Scene  I. 

7.  summon  up.    Rowe's  emendation.    The  Ff.  read,  '  commune 
up'. 

8.  '  Let  your  faces,  comely  by  nature,  grow  grim  with  wrath.' 

10.  portage,  an  abstract  term  for  '  portholes '  (of  a  ship). 

11,  &c.  '  Let  the  brow  in  its  wrath  project  beyond  the  eye,  as 
grimly  as  a  cliff  projects  which  is  undermined  by  the  washing  and 
buffeting  of  the  waves.' 


I'M  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

11.  o'erwhelm,  overhang.     Cp.    Venus  and  Adonis,   183,   "his 
louring  brows  o'er  whelming  nis  fair  sight". 

12.  galled,  chafed,  lashed  by  the  spray. 

13.  jutty,  jut  out  beyond.     See  Glossary, 
confounded,  demolished,  ruined. 

14.  Swill'd,  gulped  down  greedily.     Cp.  Richard  III.,  v.  2.  9— 

"the. ..boar 
Swills  your  warm  blood  like  wash  ". 

Notice  the  alliteration,  'sttnird...tfild...tt^stefur. 

with  =  by.    Cp.  iii.  P.  n,  20. 

16,  17.   bend  up  every  spirit  To  his  full  height.   The  metaphor 
is  taken  from  the  act  of  drawing  a  bow.    Cp.  Macbeth,  i.  7.  79 — 
"  I. ..bend  up 
Each  corporal  agent  to  this  terrible  feat ". 

16.  every  spirit,  every  kind  of  courage. 

17.  his,  its.    See  Glossary,  '»'/'. 

18.  fet,  fetched,  derived.     Cp.  2  Henry  VI.,  iii.  I.  293,  "  farfet 
policy".     Fet  was  the  regular  past  part,  of  M. E.  fecchen  (to  fetch). 

of  war-proof,  of  warlike  proof,  proved  in  war. 

21.  for  lack  of  argument,  for  lack  of  business  to  do,  having  no 
longer  any  opponents  left.     Cp.  "  for  lack  of  sport  ",  iv.  2.  23.     See 
Glossary,  '  argument '. 

22.  attest,  prove  by  the  similarity  of  your  achievements. 
24.  of  grosser  blood,  of  commoner,  less  fiery  natures. 

27.  The  mettle  of  your  pasture,  the  fine  quality  of  your  rearing. 
A  writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  for  Oct.  1872  traces  a  reference 
here  to  the  belief  that  the  strength  and  other  qualities  of  stags  were 
much  affected  by  the  nature  of  their  pasture.  He  quotes  from  the 
Noble  Art  of  Venerie:  "harts  beare  their  heads  according  to  the 
pasture  and  feede  of  the  country  where  they  are  bred  ". 

29,  30.  none. ..so  mean. ..That  hath  not. ..in  your  eyes,  more 
grammatically,  '  in  his  eyes'. 

31.  in  the  slips.     A  slip  was  a  leash.     Cp.  i.  P.  7,  note.     The 
word  slip  is  aptly  illustrated  by  Nares  from  Harington's  translation 
of  Ariosto,  Orlando  Furioso,  xxxix.  IO — 

"Even  as  a  grewnd  ('greyhound')  which  hunters  hold  in  slip 
Doth  strive  to  breake  the  string  or  slide  the  coller". 

32.  Straining.     Suggested  by  Rowe.     The  Ff.  give  '  straying '. 
Straining  upon  the  start,  straining  to  start. 

The  game  's  afoot,  the  object  of  your  pursuit  has  started  oft 
For  fame  in  this  sense  cp.  Cymbeline,  iii.  3.  98 — 
"  Hark,  the  game  is  roused  I" 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  165 

33.  Follow  your  spirit.     In  spirit  you  are  already  engaged  in 
the  chase,  let  your  bodies  follow.     Cp.  i.  2.  128-130. 

upon  this  charge,  when  you  make  this  charge. 

34.  'God  for  Harry,  England,  and  Saint  George!'     This 
is  the  punctuation  of  the  Ff.     The  objection  to  it  is  that  it  makes 
Saint  George  need  protection  instead  of  giving  it.      Perhaps  we 
should  read  "Cry,   'God  for  Harry  England,  and  St.  George!'" 
For  Harry  England,  cp.  iii.  5.  48. 

Stage-direction.     Alarum.     See  Glossary, 
chambers.     See  iii.  P.  33,  n. 

Scene  2. 

2.  corporal.     In  ii.  I.  2  Nym  gives  Bardolph  the  title  of  '  Lieu- 
tenant '. 

3.  a  case  of  lives,  a  set  of  lives.     So  Scott,  Redgauntlet,  chap. 
xvii. ,  '  a  case  of  teeth '.     In  the  phrases,  '  a  case  of  pistols ',  '  this 
case  of  rapiers '  (Marlowe,  Faustus,  vi.),  case  has  the  special  meaning 
of  '  a  couple',  '  a  brace'.     It  may  be  so  in  the  present  passage. 

3,  4.  the  humour  of  it.     Cp.  ii.  I.  48,  «. 

4.  the  very  plain-song  of  it,   the  plain  truth  of  the  matter. 
Plainsong  meant  a  simple  melody  without  variations.      Cp.  Mid- 
summer Nighfs  Dream,  iii.  I.  134,  "the  plainsong  cuckoo". 

9.  Doth.    See  Appendix  IV.  (a).    We  have  here  probably  snatche? 
of  old  ballads  now  lost. 

1 8.  avaunt,  begone!     From  the  French  avant,  forward, 
cullions,  vile  creatures,  a  low  term  of  abuse. 

19.  men  of  mould:   by  this  absurd  expression  Pistol  perhaps 
means  'men  formed  out  of  dust'. 

22.  Good  bawcock,  my  fine  fellow.     See  Glossary. 

23.  These  be  good  humours,  ironical  =  '  Are  these  what  you 
call  good  humours?'     For  'wins'  Capell  suggested  'runs',  as  in 
ii.  I.  in. 

25.  As  young  as  I  am.     We  say  'young  as  I  am',  but  the 
former  idiom  was  in  use  till  the  eighteenth  century. 

26.  swashers,  swaggerers,  bullies.  Cp.  As  You  Like  It,  i.  3.  122 — 

"  We  '11  have  a  swashing  and  a  martial  outside  ". 
28.  antics,  buffoons.     See  Glossary. 

28,  29.  For  Bardolph  =  as  for  Bardolph.     Cp.  ii.  4.   113.     So 
line  30,  '  For  Pistol ',  and  line  32,  '  For  Nym '. 

29.  white-livered,  and  therefore  cowardly.      Cp.  Merchant  o/ 
Venice,  iii.  2.  86 — 

"  cowards.. 
Who,  inward  search'd,  have  livers  white  as  milk  ". 


166  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IIL 

ag.  red-faced.     Cp.  ii.  3.  35,  note. 

30.   a'.     Cp.  ii.  2.  3,  10,  note. 

36.    By  good  deeds  the  Boy  means  valiant  deeds. 

38.  purchase,  gain,  acquisition,  a  word  of  neutral  meaning  which 
got  to  be  a  euphemism  for  '  plunder". 

40.  sworn  brothers.     See  Glossary. 

41.  42.  that  piece  of  service,  that  achievement.     The  words 
are  ironical. 

42.  carry  coals,  a  cant  phrase  =' submit  to  anything  whatever'. 
Cp.  Komeo,  i.  I.  I,  "Gregory,  o'  my  word,  we'll  not  carry  coals". 

44.  which  makes  much  against  my  manhood,  which  tells 
much  against  my  courage. 

46.  The  Boy  plays  on  the  double  sense  of  'wrongs'  — (l)  wrong 
actions  (as  in  i.  2.  27),  (2)  grievances,  insults  (which  a  brave  man 
ought  to  resent).     We  still  speak  of  '  pocketing  an  insult '. 

47,  48.  goes  against  my  weak  stomach,  i.e.  sickens  me. 

49.  presently,  instantly.     Cp.  v.  2.  79.     The  sense  of  the  word 
in  modern  times  has  suffered  from  the  habit  of  procrastination  till  it 
has  come  to  mean  '  after  a  time '. 

50.  the  Duke  of  Gloucester.     Holinshed  writes:  "the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  to  whome  the  order  of  the  siege  was  committed,  made 
three  mines  vnder  the  ground,  and  approching  to  the  wals  with  his 
engins  and  ordinance,  would  not  suffer  them  within  to  take  anie  rest. 
For  although  they  with  their  countermining  somwhat  disappointed 
the  Englishmen,  and  came  to  fight  with  them  hand  to  hand  within 
the  mines,  so  that  they  went  no  further  forward  with  that  worke; 
yet  they  were  so  inclosed  on  ech  side,  as  well  by  water  as  land, 
that  succour  they  saw  could  none  come  to  them." 

52.  the  mines  is  not.  The  Welshman  uses  singulars  and  plurals, 
actives  and  passives,  to  be  and  to  have,  at  haphazard. 

54.  discuss,  tell,  explain.     None  but  comic  or  inferior  characters 
use  the  word  in  Shakespeare. 

55,  56.  is  digt  himself  four  yard  under  the  countermines. 
Considering  that  the  countermines  (as  Holinshed  tells  us)  were  made 
by  the  French,  these  words  seem  to  need  some  correction.     Perhaps 
we  should  read,   '  is  digt  himself,  four  yard  under  them,  counter- 
mines '.     Fluellen  uses  '  is '  for  '  has '  in  line  66. 

63,  64.  I  will  verify  as  much  in  his  beard,  I  will  prove  as 
much  to  his  face. 

69.  falorous,  valorous,  valiant.  Fluellen  sharpens  his  flat  con- 
sonants. Cp.  '  Cheshu '  for  '  Jesu '. 

72.  Fluellen  believes  much  in  book-learning,  and  takes  others  on 
their  own  estimation  of  themselves.  He  praises  Jamy  as  a  soldier, 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  167 

not  for  his  putting  in  practice  the  Roman  art  of  war,  but  for  his 
powers  of  arguing  about  it. 

78.  pioners,  pioneers.     See  Glossary. 

92.  As  a  Scotchman  is  detected  at  once  by  his  pronunciation  of 
good  as  '  guid ',  Shakespeare,  to  amuse  his  audience,  makes  Jamy 
use  the  word  as  often  as  possible. 

94.  marry,  '  upon  my  word  '.  Originally  an  oath  by  the  Virgin 
Mary. 

98.   beseeched,  besieged. 
100.  sa',  save. 

106.  the  breff  and  the  long,  the  long  and  short  of  it. 

107.  hear.     Sidney  Walker's  correction  for  'heard',  the  reading 
oftheFf. 

question,  discussion,  cp.  i.  i.  4,  n. 

tway,  two. 

no.   Ish  a  villain —    The  end  of  the  sentence  would  probably 
have  been  '  to  insult  my  nation  ? '  or  words  to  that  effect. 
115.  use  me,  treat  me. 
121.  you  will  mistake,  you  are  determined  to  mistake. 

125.  to  be  required,  should  mean  'to  be  demanded',  but  in 
Fluellen's  loose  English  it  means  '  to  be  obtained '. 

Scene  3. 

1.  How   yet   resolves,   a  confused   expression.      Shakespeare 
means,   '  How  now  resolves  the  governor?     Is  his  resolution  still 
what  it  was?' 

2.  parle,  parley.    Shakespeare  uses  both  forms,  alike  of  the  subs, 
and  of  the  verb. 

4.  proud  of  destruction,  elated  with  the  thought  of  death. 

8.  half-achieved,  half-captured  (lit.  half-finished). 

n.  flesh'd,  who  has  tasted  blood.     Cp.  ii.  4.  5°- 

12.  In  liberty  of  bloody  hand,  with  his  bloody  hand  free  to 
work  its  will. 

15,  &c.  i.e.  'If  war,  arrayed  in  flames,  like  the  devil  himself,  and 
with  blackened  countenance,  enact  all  the  dreadful  deeds  that  accom- 
pany the  laying  waste  of  a  country '.  • 

20,  21.  the  hand  Of... violation,  a  bold  substitution  of  the 
abstract  word  for  the  concrete  ('violators'). 

23.  career.     See  Glossary. 

24,  &c.     '  It  would  be  as  bootless  to  command  our  soldiers  to 


168  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

stop  in  the  moment  of  victory  as  to  bid  the  whale  to  leave  the  deep 
and  come  ashore.' 

24.  vain,  repeats  the  idea  of  '  bootless '. 

26.   precepts.     The  word  when  thus  accented  is  used  by  Shake- 
speare =' summonses'.     Cp.  a  Henry  IV.,  v.  I.  14. 
leviathan.     A  reference  to  Psalm  civ.  26. 

28.  Take  pity  of.     Cp.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  271,  "If  I  do  not  take 
pity  of  her,  I  am  a  villain  ".     Shakespeare  also  uses  '  take  pity  on '. 

29.  Whiles.     See  Glossary. 

in  my  command,  under  my  control. 

30.  grace,  divine  influence. 

31.  O'erblows,  only  found  here  in  Shakespeare,  —  '  blows  away'. 

32.  heady,  headstrong.     Cp.  i.  I.  34,  and  Glossary,  'vasty' 
35.  Defile.     Rowe's  correction.     The  Ff.  have  '  desire '. 

40.  break  the  clouds,  a  poetical  exaggeration  frequent  in  the 
Latin  poets. 

the  wives  of  Jewry.     At  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  5/. 
Matthew,  ii.  1 6- 1 8. 

43.  guilty  in  defence,  yourselves  being  to  blame  for  the  con- 
sequences of  your  holding  out. 

44.  Holinshed  states  that  Henry,  after  demanding  the  uncondi- 
tional surrender  of  Harfleur,  had  given  it  a  respite  in  order  that  the 
"  capteins  within  might  haue  time  to  send  to  the  French  king  for 
succour"..."  the  Dolphin  answered  that  the  kings  power  was  not 
yet  assembled,  in  such  number  as  was  conuenient  to  raise  so  great 
a  siege.      This  answer  l>eing  brought  vnto  the  capteins  within  the 
towne,  they  rendered  it  vp  to  the  king  of  England.     The  soldiers 
were  ransomed,  and  the  towne  sacked,  to  the  great  gaine  of  the 
Englishmen".   [Notice  Shakespeare's  addition,  "  Use  mercy  to  them 
all    .]     "All  this  done  the  king  ordeined  capteine  to  the  towne  his 
vncle  the  duke  of  Excester,  who  established  his  lieutenant  there,  one 
sir  John  Fastolfe,  with  fifteene  hundred  men. ...King  Henrie,  after 
the  winning  of  Harflue,  determined  to  haue  proceeded  further  in  the 
winning  of  other  townes  and  fortresses:  but  bicause  the  dead  time  of 
the  winter  approched,  it  was  determined  by  aduise  of  his  councell, 
that   he   should    in  all  conuenient  speed  set  forward,  and  march 
through  the  countrie  towards  Calis  by  land,  least  his  returne  as  then 
homewards  should  of  slanderous  toongs  be  named  a  running  awaie: 
and  yet  that  iourni%  was  adiudged  perillous,   by  reason  that  the 
number  of  his  people  was  much  minished  by  the  flix  and  other  feuers, 
which  sore  vexed  and  brought  to  death  aboue  fifteene  hundred  per- 
sons of  the  armie:  and  this  was  the  cause  that  his  returne  was  the 
sooner  appointed  and  concluded." 

45.  whom  of  succours  we  entreated.     Shakespeare  also  uses 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  169 

the  converse  construction:  Richard  III.,  ii.  I.  62,  "I  entreat  true 
peace  of  you  ". 

46.  Returns  us,  answers  us. 
powers,  forces. 

50.  defensible,  not  'able  to  be  defended',  but  'able  to  make 
defence ',  as  in  2  Henry  IV. ,  ii.  3.  38 — 

"  Where  nothing  but  the  sound  of  Hotspur's  name 

Did  seem  defensible  ". 
54.   Pope  punctuated  the  line  thus.     The  Ff.  have — 

"  Vse  mercy  to  them  all  for  vs,  deare  vnckle". 
56.   Callice.     It  seems  better  to  keep  the  spelling  given  in  the 
Ff.,  which  represents  the  English  pronunciation  (then  as  now)  of 
what  was  so  long  an  English  possession,  than  to  write  '  Calais ',  and 
suggest  that  Shakespeare  followed  the  modern  French  pronunciation 
of  the  word.     Cp.  iii.  P.  1 7,  n. ;  iii.  5.  54,  «. 
58.  addrest,  in  readiness.     See  Glossary,  '  dress '. 

Scene  4. 

Farmer  considered  that  this  scene  was  not  written  by  Shakespeare, 
and  (apparently)  not  inserted  by  his  authority.  Other  editors  have 
taken  the  same  view.  One  critic,  Gildon,  objected  to  the  incon- 
gruity of  the  scene  being  in  French,  remarking  "Why  he  should  not 
allow  her  (that  is,  Katharine)  to  speak  in  English  as  well  as  all  the 
other  French,  I  can't  imagine  ". 

But  it  may  be  urged  in  reply — 

1.  That  "  all  the  other  French  "  are  not  made  to  speak  in  English; 
for  example,  the  French  soldier  in  iv.  4. 

2.  As  Johnson  argues,  the  "grimaces"  (I  should  rather  say  'gesti- 
culation') "of  the  two  French  women,  and  the  odd  accent  with 
which  they  uttered  the  English"  might  prove  diverting  to  the 
audience,  and  thus,  as  Capell  says,  the  scene  might  favour  "  that 
continual  alternation  of  comic  and  serious  which  prevails  in  this 
play".     Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  Epilogue,  line  30. 

3.  That  as  the  preceding  scene  left  Henry  at  Harfleur  (which  he  left 
about  Oct.   9),  and  the  scene  following  finds  him   beyond  the 
Somme  (which  he  crossed  on  Oct.   18),  the  insertion  of  a  scene 
here  to  suggest  the  lapse  of  time  is  very  natural. 

4.  (What  seems  not  to  have  been  remarked,)  if  this  scene  were 
omitted,  the  audience  would  be  asked  to  sit  through  a  play  in 
which  all  the  characters  up  to  act  v.  were  men,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Hostess  Quickly  in  ii.  3.    Surely  a  dramatist  like  Shake- 
speare would  feel  that  his  audience  would  like  to  see  the  one 
youthful  lady  of  the  piece  before  they  reached  the  last  scene  of  the 
play. 

5.  If  Katharine  was  to  be  brought  on  to  the  stage  at  this  point,  it 
was  a  natural  preparation  for  her  final  appearance  that  she  should 


170  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

now  be  having  a  lesson  in  English.    Such  lessons  must  be  assumed 

to  have  taken  place,  if  in  the  courtship  scene  Henry  was  to  be 

able  to  make  himself  understood  by  her  at  all. 

I  conclude  that  the  scene  was  modelled  by  Shakespeare  and 
inserted  here  with  his  authority.  Whether  he  had  French  enough 
to  write  it  himself  without  assistance,  is  a  question  comparatively 
unimportant.  The  probable  answer  is,  no.  But  neither  he  nor  his 
colleague  can  be  held  responsible  for  the  mutilated  French  of  the 
early  editions. 

Scene  5. 

The  scene  shows  us  the  astonishment  of  the  French  princes  at  the 
seeming  madness  of  the  English  in  marching  across  France  to  Calais 
in  spite  of  diminished  numl>ers,  sickness,  and  scarcity  of  food.  The 
king,  urged  by  his  court,  sends  his  herald  to  Henry  with  a  message 
of  defiance,  and  summons  a  long  and  imposing  list  of  vassals  to  over- 
whelm him.  The  only  question  with  those  present  is,  will  Henry 
offer  any  resistance  at  all? 

Shakespeare  brings  out  strongly  this  French  contempt  of  the  foe 
as  a  dramatic  contrast  to  the  utter  disaster  which  followed.  The 
effect  of  the  scene  on  an  English  audience  acquainted  with  the  issue 
would  be  to  quicken  their  patriotic  pride  by  showing  them  already 
the  extraordinary  character  of  the  coming  victory. 

Shakespeare  had  as  his  authority  for  this  scene  the  following 
words  of  Holinshed:  "The  French  king  being  at  Rone,  and  hearing 
that  king  Henrie  was  passed  the  river  Some,  was  much  displeased 
therewith,  and  assembling  his  councell  to  the  number  of  fiue  and 
thirtie,  asked  their  aduise  what  was  to  be  doone.  There  was 
amongst  these  fiue  and  thirtie,  his  sonne  the  Dolphin,  calling  him- 
selfe  king  of  Sicill;  the  dukes  of  Berne  and  Britaine,  the  earle  of 
Pontieu  the  kings  yoongest  sonne,  and  other  high  estates.  At  length 
thirtie  of  them  agreed,  that  the  Englishmen  should  not  depart 
vnfought  withall,  and  fiue  were  of  a  contrarie  opinion,  but  the 
greater  number  ruled  the  matter:  and  so  Montioy  king  at  armes  was 
sent  to  the  king  of  England  to  defie  him  as  the  enimie  of  France, 
and  to  tell  him  that  he  should  shortlie  haue  battell." 

Notice  that  Shakespeare  makes  the  king's  message  more  insulting 
(lines  62,  63). 

2.  And  if.     Cp.  ii.  4.  1 20,  note. 

withal,  with.     Cp.  Holinshed  above,  also  i.  I.  81,  and  line  12 
below. 

6.  luxury,  lust.     Cp.  iv.  4.  19. 

7.  scions.     See  Glossary.     The  English,  as  the  offspring  of  Nor- 
man fathers  and  Saxon  mothers,  are  said  to  be,  as  it  were,  French 
shoots  grafted  on  a  wild  stock.     Cp.   Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4.  93 — 

"  You  see,  sweet  maid,  we  marry 
A  gentler  scion  to  the  wildest  stock  ". 


Scene  5.]  NOTES.  171 

8.  Spirt,  sprout.     See  Glossary, 
g.  overlook,  overtop. 

1 1.  vie,  a  dissyllable. 

12.  but  (  =  ' unless',    'if.. .not')  depends   grammatically   on   the 
clause  of  imprecation  '  Mort  de  ma  vie ',   '  May  death  take  me '. 
Cp.  Glossary.     Practically  in  these  cases  the  sense  of  the  dependence 
of  the  but  clause  on  the  first  clause  is  lost  and  but  is  then  almost 
otiose. 

13.  a  slobbery  and  a  dirty.     For  the  repetition  of  a  cp.  iv.  I. 
1 86,  and  iv.  3.  86. 

slobbery,  wet,  sloppy. 

14.  nook-shotten.     See  Glossary. 

18.  19.  sodden  water. ..barley-broth.    A  contemptuous  descrip- 
tion of  beer.     Cp.  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  iv.  2 — 

"  K.  Hen.   What  is  that  other? 

Suffolk.  A  malt-man,  my  lord 

K.  Hen.  Sirrah,  what  made  you  leave  your  barley-broth...?" 
While  the  courage  of  Englishmen  is  attributed  to  their  eating  beef 
(iii.  7.  138),  the  French  on  the  other  hand  despise  opponents  who  do 
not  drink  wine. 

19.  A  drench  for  sur-rein'd  jades,  medicine  for  over-worked 
horses.       Sur-reined  is   explained    by  Capell,   '  hurt  in  the  reins, 
overstrained'.    Jade  is  a  poor  or  broken-down  horse.      Cp.  King 
Edward  III.,  iii.  3.,  "a  many  over-ridden  jades".    The  point  of  the 
phrase  is  that  a  mash  commonly  given  to  horses  was  made  of  malt, 
just  as  beer  is. 

20.  Decoct  their  cold  blood,  warm.      Mr.  Worrall,  however, 
sees  a  reference  here  to  "the  medieval  notion  of  the  'concoction' 
or  further  digestion  of  the  blood  into  the  finer  'humours'  of  the 
body  ". 

21.  spirited,  fired,  stimulated. 

23.  roping,  pendent  like  ropes.     See  Glossary. 

24.  whiles.     See  Glossary. 

29.  bred  out,   lost  by  degeneration.      Cp.    Timon  of  Athcnt, 
L  I.  259— 

.  "  The  strain  of  man.  's  bred  out 
Into  baboon  and  monkey". 

32.  i.e.   '  they  bid  us  go  to   England  and  teach  dancing ' — the 
only  thing  we  are  fit  for. 

33.  lavoltas,  whirling  dances.     See  Glossary, 
corantos,  running  dances  or  gallops.     See  Glossary. 


173  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

37.  England,  the  king  of  England.     Cp.  line  62  below. 

39.  More  sharper.     So  Temftst,  \.  2.  259,  "  more  sharper ",  and 
A'ii hard  //. ,  ii.  i.  49,  "  less  happier". 

40.  The  Folios  have  for  Burgundy,  '  Burgonie',  for  I'atidemont, 
'  Vandemont',  for  Beaumont,    '  Ik-umont',  for  Fawonberg,  '  Faul- 
conbridge',   for  F'oix,    '  Leys'.      The  last  two  were  corrected  by 
Capell,  following  Holinshed. 

46.  knights,  substituted  by  Theobald  for  the  reading  of  the  Ff. 
'  kings'. 

47.  '  For  the  sake*  of  the  great  positions  you  hold,  free  yourselves 
from,  &c.' 

49.  pennons.  A  pennon  was  a  small  triangular  flag  at  the  head 
of  a  knight's  lance,  having  on  it  his  armorial  bearing  (Fairholt). 

52.  The  Alps  =  the  whole  range,  and  treated  as  a  singular  noun. 
An  inferior  Latin  [x>et  was  much  ridiculed  for  using  this  same  un- 
pleasant metaphor  in  connexion  with  Alpine  snows.  See  Horace, 
Sat.,  ii.  5.  41. 

54.  Roan,  Rouen.  I  retain  the  spelling  of  the  Folios,  as  I  think 
it  a  liberty  to  make  changes  which  alter  the  rhythm  of  Shakespeare'* 
lines.  See  iii.  P.  17,  note,  and  iii.  3.  56,  note. 

59.  the  sink  of  fear.     As  we  might  say,  'his  courage  will  melt 
into  his  boots'. 

60.  for  achievement,  by  way  of  finish.     Cp.  iii.  3.  8. 

64.  This  prohibition  is  mentioned  by  Holinshed,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  history,  the  Dauphin  was  not  present  at  Agincourt.  Shakespeare 
represents  him  as  being  there  (iv.  5)  in  spite  of  the  prohibition. 
Perhaps  he  meant  this  as  a  fresh  token  of  the  weakness  of  the  father 
and  the  wilfulness  of  the  son. 

Scene  6. 

The  scene  is  opened  by  the  inferior  characters,  and  the  audience 
are  entertained  by  the  strange  mixture  of  simple-mindedness, 
pedantry,  and  honest  soldierliness  which  is  found  in  Fluellen.  The 
subject  of  discussion  is  the  sentence  passed  on  Bardolph  by  the  Duke 
of  Exeter  for  sacrilege.  Henry  comes  on  the  stage,  and  in  his  con- 
firmation of  Exeter's  judgment  shows  us  his  determination  to  put 
down  all  lawless  violence  in  the  course  of  his  army's  march.  In  his 
reply  to  the  French  herald's  message  of  defiance,  he  lets  his  high 
spirit  rise  for  a  moment  to  a  tone  of  undue  self-confidence,  but 
quickly  checks  himself,  and  resumes  a  tone  more  natural  to  an 
English  hero  in  a  time  of  difficulty,  that  of  calm  determination  and 
reliance  on  a  higher  Power. 

i,  2.  the  bridge,  over  the  little  river  Ternoise  at  Blangy.  Henry 
crossed  the  river  on  Oct.  24,  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Agincourt, 


Scene  6.]  NOTES. 


'73 


but  the  skirmish  by  which  the  bridge  was  secured  was  fought  some 
days  earlier  (apparently  on  Oct.  22,  though  Holinshed's  statement  is 
somewhat  ambiguous),  by  some  troops  sent  on  by  Henry  in  advance 
of  his  main  body. 

5.  the    Duke   of    Exeter.      See  note  on   Exeter  among  the 
"  Dramatis  Personae". 

10.  he  is  not  any  hurt.     Any,  adv.  = '  in  any  wise '. 

11.  aunchient  lieutenant,  apparently  Fluellen  combines  two 
different   titles.       For  ancient    (mispronounced    by   Fluellen),    see 
Glossary. 

13.  as  Mark  Antony.  Fluellen  is  not  satisfied  without  airing 
his  classical  knowledge.  Cp.  line  6  above. 

24.  buxom,  brisk.     See  Glossary. 

25.  furious  fickle  wheel.     Pistol,  affecting  poetical  language, 
uses  alliteration  as  usual  at  the  expense  of  sense.     Cp.  ii.  I.  53. 

28.  By  your  patience,  suffer  me  to  speak.     Fluellen  sees  an 
opportunity  of  bringing  out  some  more  of  his  learning. 

29.  blind.      Probably,  as  Warburton  thought,  inserted  here  by 
mistake  from  the  'blind'  in  the  next  line. 

muffler,  generally  (in  Shakespeare's  time)  a  wrapper  worn  by 
women  over  the  lower  part  of  the  face. 

32.  inconstant,  and  mutability.  Mr.  Wright  says  very  ap- 
positely: "  Fluellen  confuses  his  parts  of  speech  very  much  like  his 
countryman,  Sir  Hugh  Evans,  in  The  Merry  Wives  (i.  I.  222,  223), 
'  I  will  description  the  matter  to  you,  if  you  be  capacity  of  it'".  So 
in  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  v.  3.,  a  carrier  is  made  to  say,  "Vender's 
such  abomination  weather  as  was  never  seen  ". 

36.  Staunton  showed  that  Pistol  has  in  his  mind  the  old  ballad, 
"  Fortune,  my  foe,  why  dost  thou  frown  on  me?" 

37.  pax.     The  Folios  have  pax.     But  Hall  and  Holinshed,  and 
an  earlier  writer,  who  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  incident,  describe 
the  object  stolen  as  a  pix.      The  two  things  were  quite  distinct. 
Fuller  describes  a  pix  as  "  a  box  wherein  the  Host  or  consecrated 
wafer  was  put  and  preserved".     As  this  wafer  was  considered  to  be 
Christ's  body,  to  steal  the  box  containing  it  was  grievous  sacrilege. 
A  pax,  in  Fuller's  words,  was  "a  piece  of  wood  or  metall  (with 
Christ's  picture  thereon)... solemnly  tendred  to  all  people  to  kiss. 
This  was  called  the  Pax,  or  Peace,  to  show  the  unity  and  amity  of 
all  there  assembled  who  (though  not  immediately)  by  the  Proxie  of 
the  Pax  kissed  one  another". 

Perhaps  Shakespeare  or  the  printer  of  the  Folio  confused  the  two 
words. 

Holinshed  thus  narrates  the  incident:  "  Yet  in  this  great  necessitie, 
the  poore  people  of  the  countrie  were  not  spoiled,  nor  anie  thing 
taken  of  them  without  paiment,  nor  anie  outrage  or  offense  doone 


174  KIN(i    HKNRY  THE   FIFTH  [Act  III. 

by  the  Englishmen,  except  one,  which  was,  that  a  souldier  tooke 
a  pix  out  of  a  church,  for  which  he  was  apprehended,  &  the  king 
not  once  rcmooued  till  the  box  was  restored,  and  the  offender 
strangled".  Shakespeare  then  turned  this  unnamed  soldier  into  his 
own  Bardolph. 

45.  edge.     Pistol  applies  to  a  rope  the  word  proper  to  a  sword. 

49.  Why  then,  rejoice  therefore.  Mr.  Wright  shows  that  Pistol 
is  echoing  his  own  words  in  2  Henry  IV.,  v.  3.  112 — 

"Shallow.  Honest  gentleman,  I  know  not  your  breeding. 
Pistol.  Why  then,  lament  therefore." 

Perhaps  it  is  one  of  Pistol's  tags  from  old  plays. 

54.  figo,  and  just  below,  The  fig  of  Spain.  An  expression  of 
contempt  which  was  accompanied  by  a  coarse  gesture.  Cp.  iv.  I.  60; 
2  Henry  IV.,  v.  3.  124— 

"  Pistol.  When  Pistol  lies,  do  this;  and  fig  me,  like 
The  bragging  Spaniard". 

The  Qq.  have — 

"  P.  The  figge  of  Spaine  within  thy  lawe. 
F.  That  is  very  well. 
P.  I  say  the  fig  within  thy  bowels  and  thy  durty  maw." 

Douce  and  Steevens  therefore  see  a  further  allusion  to  a  Spanish 
custom  of  giving  poison  in  figs.  This  is  quite  unnecessary.  Cp.  ii. 
i.  41,  &c. 

58.   arrant.     See  Glossary. 

64.   gull,  simpleton.     Cp.  i.  2.  121,  note. 

66.  perfect,  and  line  71,  perfectly.     The  Ff.  give  '  perfit',  '  per- 
fitly'.     While  '  perfect'  was  borrowed  direct  from  the  Latin,  'perfit' 
came  through  the  French.     So  Chaucer  writes,  Prologue  72,  "  He 
was  a  verray  parfit  gentil  knight". 

67.  68.  they  will  learn  you  by  rote.     The  'you'  (originally,  a 
dative  of  the  person  interested)  is  almost  redundant.     Cp.  a  Henry 
IV.,   iii.    2.  301,    "and  a'   would   manage  you    his   piece    thus" 
Shakespeare  seems  to  be  writing  as  if  he  had  often  come  across 
such  characters. 

68.  sconce,  a  small  fort.     See  Glossary. 

70,  71.  stood  on,  insisted  on.     Cp.  v.  2.  94. 

71.  con,  learn  by  rote. 

73.  a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp,  a  terrible  soldier's  uniform. 

75,  76.   slanders  of  the  age,  scandals  to  their  times. 

76.  mistook.      Shakespeare  uses  three  fcrms  of  the  past  part., 
'mistook',  'mistaken',  'mista'en'.     Cp.  i.  2.  154,  note. 


Scene  6.]  NOTES.  175 

77.  what  in  this  use  is  the  indef.  pronoun  = 'something',  which 
is  found  in  the  compound  somewhat. 

do  perceive.     See  ii.  2.  3,  note. 
81.  from  the  bridge,  with  news  from  the  bridge. 
86.  passages,  occurrences,  deeds. 
87  and  92.  marry.     See  iii.  2.  94,  note. 

95.  bubukles,  a  distortion  of  the  word  '  carbuncles '  =  '  botches', 
which  was  confused  with  bubo,  an  inflamed  swelling  or  abscess 
(Murray). 

whelks,  boils.      Chaucer  in  his  description  of  the  Sompnoui 
(which  Shakespeare  may  have  copied  in  describing  Bardolph),  speaks 
of  his  "fyr-reed  (fire-red)  cherubinnes  face",  "  his  whelkes  whyte", 
and  "  the  knobbes  sittinge  on  his  chekes"  (Prol.  624,  &c.). 
104.  gamester,  player.     See  Glossary. 

104,  105.  the  soonest  winner.  For  'soonest'  as  an  adj.  cp. 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iii.  4.  27 — 

"  Make  your  soonest  haste". 
106.  Stage-direction.     Tucket.     See  Glossary. 

my  habit,  the  tabard  or  sleeveless  coat,  worn  originally  by 
noblemen,  who  in  the  wars  had  their  arms  embroidered  upon  it,  but 
later  only  by  heralds.  See  the  last  part  of  the  note  on  iv.  2.  60. 

112.  advantage,  &c.  i.e.  'It  is  better  in  war  to  wait  one's  time 
till  one  is  in  the  superior  position  than  to  be  rash'.  This  is  an 
excuse  for  the  French  king's  slowness  in  taking  action. 

114.  Perhaps,  as  Mr.  Deighton  says,  the  metaphor  is  taken  from 
a  boil  or  carbuncle. 

115.  upon  our  cue,  when  our  turn  has  come.      See  Glossary, 
'  cue '. 

117.  admire  our  sufferance,  wonder  at  our  patience. 

118.  proportion,  be  in  proportion  to. 

120.  which  in  weight,  &c.,  which  fully  to  compensate  would  be 
too  much  for  his  small  resources. 

129.  Montjoy.  Properly  not  a  name,  but  the  title  of  the  chief 
herald  of  France. 

131.  Henry's  answer  is  thus  given  by  Holinshed:  "Mine  intent 
is  to  doo  as  it  pleaseth  God,  I  will  not  seeke  your  maister  at  this 
time;  but  if  he  or  his  seeke  me,  I  will  meet  with  them.  God  willing. 
If  anie  of  your  nation  attempt  once  to  stop  me  in  my  iournie  now 
towards  Calis,  at  their  ieopardie  be  it ;  and  yet  I  wish  not  anie  of 
you  so  vnaduised,  as  to  be  the  occasion  that  I  die  your  tawnie  ground 
with  your  red  bloud. 

"When  he  had  thus  answered  the  herald,  he  gaue  him  a  princelie 
reward,  and  licence  to  depart." 


176  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

133.  impeachment,  hindrance  (Fr.  empfchement). 
sooth,  truth  (O.K.  sffi). 

135.   craft,  probably  here  as  often  =  '  power'. 

142.  This  your  air.  We  should  say  '  this  French  air  of  yours',  a 
construction  common  also  in  Shakespeare.  Cp.  Julius  Ctesar,  iii.  I. 
112,  "  this  our  lofty  scene". 

147.  God  before.     See  i.  2.  307,  note. 

149.  There  's  for  thy  labour.     At  this  point  Henry  gives  the 
herald  the  '  princelie  reward  '. 

150.  advise  himself,  consider,  the  sense  of  the  Fr.  s'aviser. 
156.  Nor,... we  say  we  will  not.     The  nor  goes  with  the  verb 

will,  and  is  repeated  by  not,   ii't  say  l>eing  parenthetic.     For  the 
double  negative  see  i.  I.  35,  ii.  2.  23,  iii.  7.  92,  iv.  I.  97. 

158.  Thanks,  i.e.  for  the  king's  present.     See  line  149. 

163.  on  to-morrow,  in  the  morning,  to-morrow. 

Scene  7. 

In  sharp  contrast  to  the  brave  seriousness  of  the  English  king  at 
the  close  of  the  last  scene,  this  scene  shows  a  little  later  in  the  night 
before  the  battle  the  French  princes  outvying  one  another  in  their 
vaunts,  already  gambling  for  the  prisoners  they  are  to  take  on  the 
morrow.  The  Dauphin  himself  is  the  most  eager  of  all,  but  the 
soldierly  Constable  doubts  if  his  valour  goes  much  beyond  words. 
News  is  brought  that  the  English  have  crossed  the  river  and  are 
posted  1 500  paces  from  the  I*  rench  camp,  but  this  only  suggests 
fresh  reflections  on  their  desperate  case.  The  scene  closes  at  2  A.M. 
on  the  day  of  the  battle  (Oct.  25). 

3.  an  excellent  armour.  For  an  armour  —  '  a  suit  of  armour', 
cp.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  17,  "a  good  armour";  a  Htnry  IV.,  iv.  5.  30, 
"a  rich  armour";  Pericles,  ii.  I.  125,  "a  rusty  armour". 

9.  provided  of,  we  should  say  '  provided  with '. 

13.  as  if  his  entrails  were  hairs,  that  is,  as  if  he  were  a  tennis- 
ball,  tennis-balls  being  commonly  stuffed  with  hair.  Cp.  Much  Ado, 
iii.  2.  46,  "  the  old  ornament  of  his  cheek  hath  already  stuffed 
tennis-balls". 

16.  basest  horn.     The  words  perhaps  contain  a  pun. 

17.  the  pipe  of  Hermes,  the  pipe  with  which  Hermes  charmed 
the  hundred-eyed  Argus.      Mr.  Wright  remarks  that  Shakespeare 
may    have   read   this    in   Golding's    translation  of   Ovid's   Meta- 
morphoses: 

"  He  playd  vpon  his  merrie  Pipe  to  cause  his  watching  eyes 
To  fall  a  sleepe". 

20.  he  is  pure  air  and  fire.     It  was  thought  that  men  were 


Scene  7.]  NOTES.  177 

compounded  of  the  four  elements  in  different  proportions,  whence 
came  differences  of  temperament.  Cp.  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  v.  2. 
292 — 

"  I  am  fire  and  air:  my  other  elements 
I  give  to  baser  life  ". 

24.   absolute,  perfect.     Cp.  Measure  for  Measure,  v.  I.  54 — 

"as  grave,  as  just,  as  absolute, 
As  Angelo". 

30.  lodging,  lying  down.  Cp.  iv.  I.  16,  where  the  word  means 
4  place  for  lying,  couch '. 

vary,  run  through  '  variations '  on  the  theme  of. . .. 
32.  argument,  subject-matter.     See  Glossary. 

35.  lay  apart,  lay  aside,  as  in  ii.  4.  78. 

36.  writ.     This  form  of  the  past  tense  is  more  common  than  wrote 
in  Shakespeare. 

38.  Possibly  a  sonnet  with  this  beginning  was  familiar  to  Shake- 
speare's audience. 

42.  prescript,  prescribed  or  appointed. 

43.  particular,  who  has  one  lover  alone. 

44.  shrewdly,  badly.     See  Glossary,  '  beshrew '. 

49.  kern.     See  Glossary. 
French  hose,  wide  breeches. 

50.  strait  strossers,  tight  trousers.     For  strossers,  see  Glossary. 
The  Irish  seem  to  have  worn  trousers  fitting  very  closely  to  the  skin, 
cp.  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  v.  n — 

"  Irishman.   Prithee,  lord  shudge,  let  me  have  mine  own  clothes, 
my  strouces  there", 
but  Shakespeare  uses  the  words  to  mean  something  more  than  this. 

54  and  59.  to  my  mistress,  the  old  idiom,  where  we  should  say, 
*for  my  mistress'.  Cp.  iii.  P.  30,  note. 

55.  as  lief,  as  gladly.  (O.E.  leaf,  dear.)  The  Ff.  have  Hue, 
which  corresponds  to  our  pronunciation,  '  I  'd  as  leave'.  The  literal 
meaning  of  the  phrase  is,  '  I  would  hold  it  as  dear  to  have',  &c. 

jade  (see  iii.  5.  19)  was  used  as  a  term  of  contempt  for  men  or 
women. 

60.  2  Peter,  ii.  22  (from  Olivetan's  translation). 

69.  a  many,  as  we  say,  a  few,  a  good  many.  Both  few  and 
many  were  in  O.E.  adjectives  (fediva,  ntanig).  Cp.  iv.  I.  117,  iv. 
3-95- 

74,  75.  my  way  shall  be  paved  with  English  faces.    Perhaps 
Shakespeare  had  in  mind  the  following  lines,  from  a  poem  on  Henry's 
expedition,  attributed  to  Lydgate  (see  Nicolas'  Agincourf): — 
(M178)  M 


178  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  III. 

"  And  thannc  answerde  the  duke  of  Barrye 
\Vith  wordes  that  were  full  muchell  of  pryde, 
Be  God,  he  seyde,  y  wil  not  sparye, 
Over  the  Englysshmen  y  thenke  to  ryde",  &c. 

76,  77.   faced  out  of  my  way,  outfaced,  put  to  shame. 

77,  78.  about  the  ears.     The  Constable  thinks  it  too  soon  to 
talk  of  overriding  the  faces  of  the  English,  but  he  is  eager  to  be 
about  their  ears,  that  is,  at  blows  with  them. 

79.  go  to  hazard,  gamble.  In  this  Shakespeare  follows  Holin- 
shed's  account:  "The  soldiers  the  night  l>efore  had  plaied  the 
Englishmen  at  dice".  Cp.  iv.  P.  17-19.  In  the  next  line,  go  to 
hazard  is  used  in  its  ordinary  sense,  '  encounter  danger'. 

83.   I  '11  go  arm  myself.     For  the  infin.  governed  by  go,  with- 
out to,  cp.  iv.  5-  18. 
go.  still,  ever.     Cp.  i.  2.  145. 
92.   Nor... none.     Cp.  i.  I.  35. 

101,  102.   but  his  lackey.     Hitherto  he  has  spent  his  blows  on 
no  one  but  his  lackey,  who  would  not  resist  him. 

102,  103.   'tis  a  hooded  valour... bate,  an  allusion  to  falconry. 
A  hawk  was  kept  hooded  till  it  was  let  fly  at  the  game,  and  as  soon 
as  the  hood  was  removed,  bated,  or  flapped  its  wings  preparatory  to 
flight.     Cp.  Taming  of  the  Shrnv,  iv.  I.  199 — 

"  These  kites 
That  bate  and  beat  and  will  not  be  obedient", 

and  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iii.  2.  14 — 

"  Hood  my  unmann'd  blood,  bating  in  my  cheeks". 

Some  see  here  a  pun  on  another  sense  of  bate  (cp.  /  Henry  IV., 
iii.  3.  2,  '  Do  I  not  bate?  do  I  not  dwindle?'),  but  this  seems  to  me 
very  doubtful. 

109.  Well  placed,  well  said.     Cp.  /  Henry  VI.,  iii.  2.  3 — 
"  Be  wary  how  you  place  your  words". 

114.  over,  i.e.  over  the  mark.     But  in  the  next  line  overshot  =: 
outshot,  beaten*. 

116,  117.  fifteen  hundred  paces.  Holinshed  says:  "The 
French  host  was  incamped  not  past  two  hundred  and  fiftie  pases 
distant  from  the  English". 

123.  peevish,  childish,  foolish.     See  Glossary. 

124,  125.  mope... knowledge,  to  go  blundering  and  leaving  his 
wits  so  far  behind  him.     For  mope  cp.  Tempest,  v.  i.  240 — 

"  Even  in  a  dream  were  we  divided  from  them, 
And  were  brought  moping  hither". 

124.  fat-brained,  stupid.    So  in  /  Henry  IV.,  \.  2.  2,  "  fat-witted  ". 


Act  IV.  Prol.]  NOTES.  179 

126.  apprehension,  perception,  intelligence."  Cp.  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  iii.  2.  178,  'more  quick  of  apprehension'  (said  of 
the  ear).  Mr.  Deighton  quotes  the  saying  of  Napoleon  that  the 
English  were  so  stupid,  they  never  knew  when  they  were  beaten. 

132.  winking,  with  their  eyes  shut.     See  Glossary. 

136.  Just,  just,  exactly  so.    Cp.  Measure  for  Measure,  iii.  I.  68 — 

"  Claud.  Perpetual  durance? 

Isab.   Ay,  just;  perpetual  durance." 

sympathize  with,  behave  as,  resemble. 

137.  robustious,  sturdy,  violent, 
coming  on,  onset. 

138.  give  them  great  meals  of  beef.     The  same  connexion 
between  English  high-feeding  and  English  courage  is  implied  in 
/  Henry  IV.,  i.  2.  9 — 

"They  want  their  porridge  and  their  fat  bull-beeves: 
Either  they  must  be  dieted  like  mules, 
And  have  their  provender  tied  to  their  mouths, 
Or  piteous  they  will  look ;" 

and  King  Edward  III.,  iii.  3 — 

"  but  scant  them  of  their  chines  of  beef, 
And  take  away  their  downy  feather-beds, 
And  presently  they  are  as  resty-stiff 
As  't  were  a  many  over-ridden  jades  ". 

In  Hall's  Chronicle,  the  Constable  is  made  to  say:  "Kepe  an 
Englishman  one  moneth  from  his  warme  bed,  fat  befe  and  stale 
drinke,  and  let  him  that  season  last  colde  and  suffre  hunger,  you 
then  shall  se  his  courage  abated...". 

141.  shrewdly,  cp.  line  44  above. 

out  of,  without,  short  of.     Cp.  iv.  I.  20,  «. 

142,143.  stomachs. ..to  fight.  Stomach  used  as=' inclina- 
tion '.  Cp.  iv.  3.  35. 

145.  by  ten.  According  to  Holinshed  the  signal  of  battle  was  given 
"  betwene  nine  and  ten  of  the  clocke  ". 


Act  IV. — Prologue. 

'  Chorus '  now  comes  on  the  stage  to  describe  to  the  audience  the 
night  before  the  battle,  with  the  two  armies  lying  a  short  distance 
apart,  and  catching  glimpses  of  each  other  by  their  camp-fires.  The 
French  are  dicing  for  the  prisoners  soon  to  be  taken  and  longing  for 
the  day,  the  English  sadly  musing  on  their  position  of  peril,  until  the 


i8o  KING    HENRY  THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

English  king  with  cheerful   countenance  makes  the  round  of  his 
camp,  and  fills  all  who  see  him  with  new  courage. 

'Chorus'  ends  with  another  apology  for  the  ridiculous  manner  in 
which  alone  the  glorious  battle  can  lie  represented  on  the  stage,  and 
another  appeal  to  the  audience  to  use  their  imaginations  and  let  the 
poor  stage- mockeries  suggest  the  events  as  they  actually  took  place. 

i  3.  '  Admit  into  your  minds  the  notion  of  night,  the  time  when 
stealthily  borne  murmurs  and  ever-brooding  darkness  fill  the  space 
between  heaven  and  earth.' 

2.  creeping.     Cp.  Mulittninur  NighCs  Dream,  iii.  2.  20,  "  the 
creeping  fowler". 

poring,  persistently  brooding  over  the  earth.  The  word  has 
no  etymological  connection  with  purblind  and  seems  to  mean  '  to 
poke  or  linger  over  a  thing '. 

3.  Fills.      For  the  sing,  form  see  Appendix  IV.  (a). 

4.  foul,  because  Night  is  often  thought  of  as  something  hideous 
and  evil.     Cp.  line  21  below,  iv.  I.  255,   Venus  and  Adonis,  773, 
"this  black-faced  night,  desire's  foul  nurse";  1041,  "ugly  night"; 
Sonnet,  xii.  2,  "hideous  night". 

womb  of  night,  like  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe  in  line  3  = 
the  hollow  space  contained  between  earth  and  heaven, 

5.  stilly,  still-ly,  quietly.     The  word  is  not  found  elsewhere  in 
Shakespeare. 

6.  That,  so  that.     Cp.  i.  I.  47  and  line  41  below. 

8.  Fire  answers  fire,  the  watch-fires  of  each  camp  are  visible  from 
those  of  the  other. 

paly,  pale,  or,  according  to  Abbott  450,  palish.  So  brawny. 
Lover's  Complaint,  85,  "  his  browny  locks". 

9.  battle,  army.     Cp.  iv.  2.  54. 

umber'd,  perhaps  '  dark  against  the  flames  as  though  stained 
with  umber':  cp.  As  You  Like  Jt,  i.  3.  114 — 

"  I'll  ..with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face"; 

or  merely  '  in  shadow ',  as  Singer  argues,  quoting  Cavendish,  Metri- 
•jil  Visions,  Prologue,  p.  2,  "  under  the  umber  of  an  oakt". 

11.  the  night's  dull  ear.    Night  as  the  time  of  sleep  is  naturally 
personified  as  slow  of  hearing. 

12.  accomplishing,  completing  the  equipment  of.     Chaucer  in 
his  Knightes  Tale  (2507),  among  the  preparations  for  the  tournament 
mentions — 

"  the  armurers  also 
With  fyle  and  hamer  prikinge  to  and  fro". 

13.  Douce,  Illustrations  of  Shakespeare,  p.  308,  says  that  some 
of  the  riveting  was  done  after  the  armour  was  on  :  in  particular,  the 


Prologue.]  NOTES.  181 

bottom  of  the  casque  or  helmet  was  riveted  to  the  top  of  the  cuirass, 
so  that  the  warrior's  head  might  remain  steady  if  a  heavy  blow  were 
dealt  either  on  his  cuirass  or  helmet. 

15.  do... do,  see  ii.  2,  3,  ». 

16.  name,  Tyrwhitt's  correction  of  nam'd,  the  reading  of  the  Ff. 

18.  over-lusty,  over-cheerful,  over-confident. 

19.  play,  play  for,  &c.      Card-players  still  say,  "  Do  you  play 
points?"     For  Shakespeare's  authority  for  the  statement,  see  iii.  7. 
79.  »• 

20.  In  the  previous  scene  the  French  princes  repeatedly  expressed 
their  impatience  for  the  coming  of  day.     See  iii.  7.  lines  2,  6,  II,  73, 
76,  84,  120,  121. 

23.  Like  sacrifices.     Said  by  Hotspur  of  the  king's  forces  in 
/  Henry  IV.,  iv.  I.  113. 

watchful  fires,  the  fires  by  which  watch  was  kept. 

24.  inly,  inwardly.     The  word  is  also  used  as  an  adj.,  Two  Gen- 
tlemen of  Verona,  iL  7.  1 8,  "the  inly  touch  of  love". 

25.  their  gesture  sad,  their  grave  bearing.     For  sad,  cp.  iv. 
2.  285. 

26.  Warburton  thought  the  line  corrupt.     Other  editors  insist  on 
the  comma  after  cheeks  (which  is  found  in  the  First  Folio),  but  this 
reading  is  condemned  by  the  correspondence  of  alliteration  in  'lank- 
lean  '  and  '  war-worn '.    Supposing  the  line  genuine,  it  means  '  their 
grave  bearing  was  what  first  caught  the  eye  which  surveyed  their 
lean  cheeks  and  worn  coats '.     Steevens  compares  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,  iv.  I.  146,  "attired  in  wonder". 

27.  Presenteth,  Steevens'  correction  of  the  reading  of  the  Ff., 
'  presented '. 

unto  the  gazing  moon.  Shakespeare  might  have  said,  'in 
the  moonlight',  but  as  soon  as  the  moon  enters  his  mind,  he  con- 
ceives her  in  imagination  as  alive  and  looking  on.  The  little  sur- 
prise which  the  reader  gets  at  such  a  fancy  helps  him  to  see  the 
scene  more  vividly  than  he  could  have  been  made  to  do  by  a  mere 
literal  description.  Cp.  L  P.  8,  14. 

32.  Mr.  Deighton  says  :  "  Contrast  the  behaviour  of  the  king  in 
Richard  III.,  v.  3.  220,  when,  fearing  that  his  troops  will  fall  away 
from  him,  he  says — 

"It  is  not  yet  near  day.  Come  go  with  me; 
Under  our  tents  I  '11  play  the  eavesdropper 
To  see  if  any  mean  to  shrink  from  me." 

Mr.  Deighton  shows,  however,  that  on  this  same  occasion  there 
was  a  parallel  to  Henry's  conduct.  At  line  69  of  the  same  scene, 
we  read — 


182  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

"Thomas,  the  Earl  of  Surrey  and  himself  (Northumberland), 
Much  about  cock-shut  time  (i.e.  evening)  from  troop  to  troop, 
Went  through  the  army,  cheering  up  the  soldiers". 

36.  enrounded,  surrounded. 

37.  '  Nor  doth  he  yield  any  of  the  colour  in  his  cheeks  in  acknow 
ledgment  of  the  power  of  a  sleepless  night ',  i.e.   in  common  Ian 
guage,  '  nor  in  spite  of  sleeplessness  is  he  paler  than  usual*. 

38.  weary.    Night,  thus  causing  weariness,  is  thought  of  as  being 
herself  weary. 

all-watched,  entirely  wakeful  or  sleepless. 

39.  '  But    looks    fresh    and    overcomes    the    infection   of   these 
influences.' 

41.  That,  so  that.     Cp.  line  6  above  and  line  45  below. 

43.  largess,  generally,  royal  bounty  given  in  money,  here  in 
kind  looks. 

45.  that.     Cp.  line  41  above. 

mean  and  gentle,  the  soldiers  of  lowly  or  of  good  birth. 

46.  as  may  unworthiness  define,  as  I  hope  our  poor  actors 
may  be  able  to  represent.      'Chorus'  interpolates  the  hope  that  the 
actors  on  the  stage,  though  unworthy,  may  be  able  in  the  coming 
scene  to  set  forth  Henry  as  his  soldiers  saw  him  that  night. 

47.  touch.     Cp.  Henry  VIII.,  v.  i.  13— 

"  Give  your  friend 
Some  touch  of  your  late  business". 

49.  Compare   the  apology  for   the  deficiencies  of  the  stage  in 
I.   P.   8,   &c. ,  and  the  passage  from   Sir  P    Sidney  quoted  in   i. 
P.  24,  >t. 

50.  ragged,  beggarly,  wretched, 
foils,  rapiers  used  in  fencing. 

51.  ill  disposed,  managed  or  handled  unskilfully,  not  as  they 
would  be  handled  in  war. 

53.  Minding,  calling  to  mind. 

Act  IV.— Scene  I. 

This  is  the  scene  of  the  play  in  which  Shakespeare  digs  deepest, 
in  which  he  takes  us  furthest  into  the  mind  of  his  hero  and  furthest 
into  his  own.  We  have  seen  Henry  as  the  wise  statesman,  the 
undaunted  leader,  the  modest,  truth-loving  man:  we  shall  see  him 
soon  soaring  so  high  in  his  serene  fearlessness  of  the  odds  against 
him,  that  the  heart  is  stirred  at  his  words  '  more  than  with  a 
Trumpet'.  And  yet  we  might  still  ask,  as  we  ask  in  the  case  of  so 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  183 

many  men  whom  we  know  and  admire — What  is  he  in  his  deepest 
self  ?  Are  his  noble  qualities  different  in  kind  from  those  of 
common  men,  or  only  in  degree?  Has  he  known  those  moments 
of  doubt  and  quailing  which  come  to  ourselves?  To  such  ques- 
tions this  scene  supplies  the  answer.  The  first  two  lines  strike 
the  note.  It  is  from  no  incapacity  to  realize  danger  that  Henry 
is  brave.  He  feels  fear  at  the  moment  when  he  rises  so  high 
above  it.  "The  king",  as  we  are  told  later  in  the  scene,  "the 
king  is  but  a  man."  These  words  might  almost  be  taken  as 
the  key  to  Shakespeare's  art.  Other  dramatists,  of  set  purpose  or 
from  want  of  grip  upon  facts,  remove  their  noble  characters  into  a 
sphere  apart ;  those  who  do  not  do  this  often  admit  of  no  nobility 
of  character  at  all.  Shakespeare  combines  the  most  ideal  sense  of  the 
possible  strength  and  beauty  of  the  human  soul  with  an  absolutely 
unfailing  remembrance  that,  however  strong  and  beautiful,  the  soul 
is  a  human  soul  after  all.  And  so  he  lets  us  see  Henry,  not  merely 
as  he  showed  himself  to  the  world,  but  as  he  behaved  and  acted 
when  he  was  disguised  in  the  night,  quietly  observing  the  mock- 
valour  of  a  Pistol  and  the  loyal  carefulness  of  a  Fluellen,  reasoning 
with  common  men  in  their  own  way,  and  hearing  their  thoughts 
about  himself,  even  for  a  moment  envying  their  careless  lives  in  the 
crushing  sense  of  his  own  immense  responsibility.  Still  further  he 
takes  us  into  the  recesses  of  the  king's  soul :  we  see  there  a  secret 
sense,  never  revealed  to  other  men,  of  a  great  sin  committed  by  his 
father,  a  sin  whose  consequences  may  fall  on  his  own  head,  in  spite 
of  all  his  efforts  to  retrieve  it.  Not  till  we  have  seen  this,  can  we 
realize  Shakespeare's  conception  of  a  hero. 

The  dramatist  shows  the  same  spirit  in  treating  the  common 
soldiers.  They  are  no  mere  foils  to  the  hero,  mere  caricatures  of 
humanity.  Within  their  limits  they  use  their  minds,  criticise  their 
superiors,  sometimes  make  points  against  them,  see  a  truth  when  it 
is  well  put  to  them ;  know  their  duty,  and  are  ready  to  do  it  even  at 
the  cost  of  a  life  which  they  also  find  sweet.  They  too  are  men. 

6.  Good  comes  out  of  evil,  says  the  king  facetiously,  since  the  near 
neighbourhood  of  the  French  makes  us  rise  early,  besides  reminding 
us  to  prepare  for  death. 

7.  Which,  i.e.  early-stirring,  early-rising, 
husbandry,  economy,  thrift :  as  the  proverb  says — 

"  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise 
Makes  a  man  healthy  and  wealthy  and  wise". 

For  this  meaning  of  husbandry,  cp.  Macbeth,  ii.  I.  7 — 
"There's  husbandry  in  heaven: 
Their  candles  are  all  out ". 

We  speak  of  'husbanding  our  resources'. 

8.  they,  i.e.  the  French. 


184  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

10.  dress  us,  prepare  ourselves.     See  Glossary. 
1 6.  lodging.     See  iii.  7.  30,  ;/. 

likes  me,  pleases  me.     Cp.  iii.  P.  32 ;  iv.  3.  77. 
18-23.  Mr.  Worrall  remarks  that  these  lines  seem  to  be  an  '  aside'. 

19.  Upon  example,  in  consequence  of  someone  else's  example. 

20.  out  of,  without     Cp.  iii.  7.  141  and  line  105  below. 

21.  The  bodily  organs  grow  torpid  and,  as  it  were,  dead,  when  the 
mind  is  apathetic,  and  return  to  life  as  it  recovers. 

22.  drowsy  grave,  their  grave  of  drowsiness.     Cp.  Richard  //., 
i.  3.  241,  "partial  slander"  = 'the  reproach  of  partiality'. 

23.  With  casted  slough,  having  cast  off  their  numbness,  as  the 
snake  casts  its  slough.    The  form  casted  is  used  by  Shakespeare  only 
in  this  place.     Cp.  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  v.  I.  24,  "splitted". 

legerity,  activity,  nimbleness.    (Fr.  legereU.)     The  word  does 
not  occur  elsewhere  in  Shakespeare. 

24.  Lend  me,  &c.    The  king  is  going  out  into  the  camp  in  order 
by  meditation  to  'dress  him  for  his  end',  and  wishes  to  disguise 
himself. 

26.  Do.    Cp.  Julius  desar,  iv.  2.  5,  "  To  do  you  salutation  from 
his  master". 

27.  Desire  them  all,  i.e.  to  come.     Cp.   7'roilus  and  Cressida.. 
iv.  5.  150 — 

"  I  would  desire 
My  famous  cousin  to  our  Grecian  tents  ". 

32.  would.     Cp.  v.  2.  68. 

35.  Quivala?    Rowe's  correction.    The  Ff.  have   Che  vous  la?' 

37.  Discuss  unto  me,  tell  me.     Cp.  iii.  2.  54,  «. 

38.  popular,  vulgar,  plebeian.     The  word  always  has  this  sense 
in  Shakespeare. 

40.  Trail'st.  The  pike  being  a  long,  heavy  lance,  it  was  commonly 
trailed.  Cp.  Coriolanus,  v.  6.  152,  "Trail  your  steel  pikes". 

44.  bawcock.     See  Glossary. 

45.  imp,  scion.     See  Glossary. 

48.  lovely,  charming,  used  in  Shakespeare  of  men.     Cp.  Sonnet, 
cvi.  4,  "  lovely  knights." 
bully.     See  Glossary. 

54.  his  leek.  Welshmen  wear  the  leek  on  St.  David's  day 
(March  I),  as  is  generally  said,  in  honour  of  the  victory  said  to  have 
been  gained  over  the  Saxons  on  that  day,  540  A.U.,  when  the  Welsh 
soldiers  by  St.  David's  orders  wore  a  leek  in  their  caps.  See  iv.  7. 
88,  ;/. 

59.  his  kinsman,  as  a  brother  Welshman,  Henry  having  been 
bom  at  Monmouth. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  185 

60.  The  figo.     See  iii.  6.  54,  ». 
63.  sorts,  agrees. 

65.  So!    (Ff.  "So'},  hush! 

lower.     The  Ff.  have  'fewer',  Qq.  I  and  2,  'lewer'.     Malone 
introduced  'lower'  from  Q.  3. 

66.  admiration,  wonder. 

67.  prerogatifes.    The  word  is  misused  by  Fluellen,  who  means 
'rules'. 

69.  Pompey  the  Great.     Cp.  iii.  6.  13,  «. 

70.  tiddle,  taddle  ...  pibble,  pabble.      Fluellen   means  'tittle 
tattle'  (Winter's  Tale,  iv.  4.  248,  "tittle-tattling"),  "bibble  babble" 
(Twelfth  Night,  iv.  2.  105).     The  words  tattle,  babble  are  from  M.E. 
tatelen,  babelen,  verbs  formed  to  indicate  idle  repetition  of  sounds. 
Their  force  is  intensified  by  the  prefixing  to  them  of  their  weakened 
forms  '  tittle*,  '  bibble'. 

74.  the  enemy  is  loud.  Holinshed  says  that  the  French  "  all 
that  night  after  their  comming  thither,  made  great  cheare  and  were 
verie  merie". 

81.  out  of  fashion,  in  a  quaint  form. 

91.  Thomas.  The  Ff.  have  'John',  which  was  corrected  by 
Theobald. 

93.  estate,  state,  position. 

94.  a  sand,  a  sandbank. 

97.  nor. ..not.     Cp.  iii.  6.  156. 

99.  the  element,  the  sky.     Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  iv.   3.  58,  "I... 
o'ershine   you  as  much  as  the  full  moon  doth  the  cinders  of  the 
element "  (the  stars), 
shows,  appears. 

101.  ceremonies,  his  badges  of  office.    Cp.  Measure  for  Measure, 
ii.  2.  59. 

102.  are  higher  mounted,  soar  higher.     'Mount'  in  Shake- 
speare can  be  a  verb  active:  cp.  All's  Well,  i.  I.  235,  "What  power 
is  it  which  mounts  my  love  so  high?"     The  allusion  here  is  to 
falconry. 

103.  stoop,  used  of  the  hawk  descending  on  her  prey.    Cp.  Taming 
of  the  Shrew,  iv.  I.  193 — 

"  My  falcon  now  is  sharp  and  passing  empty, 
And  till  she  stoop  she  must  not  be  full-gorged". 

105.  out  of  doubt.     See  line  20  above. 

of  the  same  relish,  of  the  same  taste  or  quality. 

106.  in  reason,  in  all  fairness.     Cp.  v.  2.  358. 

possess,  fill,  as  in  the  Biblical  phrase  'possessed  of  (  =  by) 
a  devil ' .     Cp.  line  274  below. 


y86  KING    HENRY  THE  FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

1 12.  at  all  adventures,  at  any  risks. 

so  we  were  quit  here,  if  only  we  were  out  of  this. 

113.  By  my  troth,  by  my  faith. 

my  conscience,  my  innermost  thought.  When  the  king, 
recognized  by  the  audience,  but  unknown  to  the  other  characters 
on  the  sta^e,  thus  speaks  of  himself,  we  have  the  stage  effect  known 
as  Dramatic  or  Poetic  Irony.  The  audience  have  a  distinct  pleasure 
in  vhe  excitement  of  seeing  others  (here  the  soldiers)  miss  the  point 
of  what  to  them  (the  audience)  is  perfectly  clear.  This  feeling 
would  be  stirred  again  by  lines  120,  179,  205  below. 

117.  a  many.     See  iii.  7.  69,  note. 
132.  upon,  on  account  of. 

134.   rawly,  abruptly,    without    preparation.     Cp.    Macbeth,   iv. 
3-  26- 

"  Why  in  that  rawness  left  you  wife  and  child... 
Without  leave-taking?" 

134.  135.  die  well,  that  is,  die  a  Christian  death. 

135.  charitably,  in  good-will  to  all  men. 

136.  argument,  business  in  hand.      Cp.    Two  Noble  Kinsmen, 
v.  3.  2,  "our  argument  is  love",  and  see  Glossary. 

138,  139.  whom.     Ff.  I,  2,  'who'. 

against  all  proportion  of  subjection,  against  all  that  is 
becoming  in  subjects.     Cp.  ii.  2.  109. 

141.  do  sinfully  miscarry,  perish  in  a  state  of  sin. 

sinfully.  The  adverb  here  expresses  not  the  manner  of  the 
action  so  much  as  the  state  in  which  the  agent  was  when  he  per- 
formed it.  Cp.  iv.  6.  14,  Coriolanns,  ii.  3.  43 — 

"  How  youngly  he  began  to  serve  his  country  ", 

and  Hamlet,  i.  2.  181 — 

"  The  funeral  baked  meats 
Did  coldly  furnish  forth  the  marriage  tables". 

For  miscarry,  which  is  commonly  thus  used,  cp.  Richard  ///.,  i. 
3-  1 6- 

Riv.    "Is  it  concluded  he  shall  be  protector? 
Queen.    ...so  it  must  be,  if  the  king  miscarry." 

145.   irreconciled,  unatoned. 
147.  answer,  answer  for. 

151.  arbitrement,   decision.      The  phrase   '  the  arbitrament  of 
swords  '  occurs  also  in  Cymbeline,  i.  4.  52. 

152.  try  it  out,  fight  it  out. 

153.  154.   contrived,  planned,  plotted. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  187 

r54,  155-  the  broken  seals  of  perjury.  Mr.  Singer  quotes 
Measure  for  Measure,  iv.  I.  6 — 

"  But  my  kisses  bring  again... 
Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain  ". 

155.  making  the  wars  their  bulwark,  that  is,  sheltering  them- 
•elves  in  the  wars  after  they  have  broken  the  peace  at  home. 

158.  native  punishment,  punishment  in  their  native  land.  Cp. 
.v.  3.  96. 

161.  in  now  the  king's  quarrel.  Now  has  the  force  of  an 
adjective,  and  is  paiallel  to  before  in  before-breach.  The  parallelism 
is  emphasized  by  the  prominence  given  to  now  in  the  order  of  words. 
The  more  natural  order  would  be  '  in  the  king's  now  quarrel '. 

161,  162.  where  they  feared,  &c.  At  home  where  they  feared 
the  death  due  to  their  crimes,  they  escaped  with  their  lives;  they  die 
in  the  wars  where  they  hoped  to  be  safe. 

163.   unprovided,  unprepared. 

168.  mote,  wrongly  spelt  'moth'  in  the  Ff.  In  O.K.  the  words 
mot,  a  mote,  and  mcrtSftt,  a  moth,  were  quite  distinct,  but  in  Shake- 
speare's time  they  were  often  confused  in  spelling,  though  not  in 
pronunciation.  For  th  - 1,  cp.  '  Thames '. 

185.  pay  him,  pay  him  out,  punish  him.     There  is  a  pun  with 
reference  to  trust  in  the  line  above. 

186.  an  elder-gun.     Pop-guns  are  often  made  of  an  elder  stick 
with  its  pith  removed.    A  private  man's  disapproval  will  be  no  more 
dangerous  to  a  king  than  a  shot  from  a  pop-gun  would  be  in  war. 

a  poor  and  a  private.     For  the  repetition  of  the  article,  cp. 
iii.  5.13  and  iv.  3.  86. 

187.  go   about   to,    endeavour   to.       Cp.   Midsummer   Nighfs 
Dream,  iv.  I.  212,  "Man  is  but  an  ass  if  he  go  about  to  expound 
this  dream  ". 

190.  round,  unqualified,  unceremonious,  as  we  say,  '  He  came  out 
with  a  good  round  oath '. 

202.  take  thee  a  box  on  the  ear.  The  root-meaning  of  take  is 
'  touch ' — hence  it  comes  to  mean  '  strike  '  as  well  as  '  seize '.  Cp. 
Twelfth  Night,  ii.  5.  75,  "Does  not  Toby  take  you  a  blow  o'  the 
lips?"  We  say,  '  I'll  catch  you  a  box  of  the  ears ! 

205.  take  thee,  come  upon  thee,  catch  thee.  Cp.  Midsummer 
Nighfs  Dream,  iii.  2.  38,  "  I  took  him  sleeping". 

209.  enow.     This  form  was  used  as  the  plural  of  enough,  cp.  iv. 
2.  28  below. 

210.  French  crowns.     There  is  a  similar  play  on  two  senses  of 
crowns  in  Richard  II.,  iii.  3.  95~97- 

214.  Henry  muses  on  the  weight  of  responsibility  which  the 
soldiers  would  put  on  his  .shoulders,  1.  128,  &c. 


188  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV, 

Dr.  Johnson  remarks,  "  There  is  something  very  striking  and 
solemn  in  this  solilonuy  into  which  the  king  breaks  immediately 
as  soon  as  he  is  left  alone.  Something  like  this,  on  less  occasions, 
every  breast  has  felt.  Reflection  and  seriousness  rush  upon  the  mind 
upon  the  separation  of  a  gay  company,  and  especially  after  forced 
and  unwilling  merriment." 

215.   careful,  anxious. 

217-221.  The  arrangement  of  these  lines  is  due  to  the  Cambridge 
editors.  The  Folios  end  1.  217  at  'all',  and  the  following  lines  at 
'  Greatnesse ',  '  sence  ',  '  wringing ',  '  neglect ',  '  enjoy '. 

217.  O  hard  condition,  &c.  O  the  hard  estate  to  which  the 
great  are  born,  in  being  subject  to  the  criticism  of  fools  who  cannot 
feel  with  them,  since  they  feel  nothing  but  their  own  private  pains. 

219,  220.  no  more... but,  no  more  than.  For  this  obsolete  use 
of  but  with  a  negative  comparative  cp.  Twelfth  Night,  i.  4.  13, 
"Thou  know'st  no  less  but  all  ". 

225.  that  suffer'st,  ceremony  is  poetically  identified  with  the 
king  to  whom  it  is  rendered. 

229.  What  is  thy  soul  of  adoration?  I  accept  the  explanation 
of  this  line  given  by  Delius  and  Mr.  Herington,  and  supported  by 
Mr.  Wright,  viz.,  'what  is  the  soul  of  thy  adoration?'  or  'what  is 
the  real  nature  or  essence  of  the  adoration  paid  thee?' 

For  the  transference  of  thy  from  'adoration'  to  'soul',  Mr. 
Herington  compares  Hamlet,  iii.  2.  350,  "  what  is  your  cause  of  dis- 
temper?'' and  other  instances.  For  soul  cp.  1.  4  above. 

F.  i  reads  "  What?  is  thy  soule  of  Odoration?"  The  later  Folios 
replace  '  Odoration '  by  '  Adoration '. 

237.  Think'st.  Rowe's  correction.  The  Ff.  have  'Thinks'. 
Mr.  Wright  quotes  other  examples  of  this  form  of  the  2nd  pers.  sing, 
in  the  old  copies  of  Shakespeare. 

237»  238.  Thinkest  thou  that  titles  breathed  by  a  flatterer  will  drive 
thy  fever  from  thee? 

239.   give  place  to,  yield  to,  retreat  before. 

flexure,  bowing.     Cp.    Troilus  and  Cressida,  ii.  3.  115,  "his 
legs  are  legs  for  necessity,  not  for  flexure  ". 

244.  balm,  the  consecrated  oil  with  which  a  king  is  anointed  at 
his  coronation.     Cp.  j  Henry  VI.,  iii.  i.  17 — 

"  Thy  place  is  filled,  thy  sceptre  wrung  from  thee, 

Thy  balm  wash'd  off  wherewith  thou  wast  anointed  ". 
the   ball,   carried   by  a  king  in  his   left   hand  as  a  sign   of 
sovereignty.     Cp.  Macbeth,  iv.  I.  121 — 

"  Some  I  see 
That  two-fold  balls  and  triple  sceptres  carry". 

245.  The  sword,  the  mace.     These  emblems  of  power  would 
be  carried  before  the  king  in  a  procession.     The  mace  was  a  club 


Scene  x.]  NOTES.  189 

heavily  weighted  at  the  end  for  felling  an  enemy,  and  was  used 
in  war  by  ecclesiastics  who  were  forbidden  to  shed  blood.  Cp. 
2  Henry  VI.,  iv.  7.  144,  "with  these  borne  before  us,  instead  of 
maces,  will  we  ride  through  the  streets". 

the  crown  imperial.  Cp.  i.  2.  35.  Mr.  J.  R.  Tanner  has 
pointed  out  to  me  the  claim  made  in  the  Act  of  Appeals,  1532-  3, 
'  that  this  Realme  of  Englond  is  an  Impire '.  Both  this  Act  and  the 
Act  of  Supremacy,  1534,  speaks  of  the  'Imperiall  Crowne'  of  this 
realm. 

246.  intertissued,   interwoven  with  gold  and  pearls.     A  cloth 
shot  with  gold  was  called  tissue. 

pearl,  in  the  generic  sense.  Cp.  Paradise  Lost,  ii.  4,  "Showers 
on  her  kings  barbaric  pearl  and  gold  ". 

247.  farced,   stuffed.      See  Glossary.     The  king's  title,    stuffed 
with  his  various  dignities,  would  be  inscribed  on  a  banner  which  was 
carried  before  him. 

250.  Mr.  Wright  reminds  us  of  the  similar  thought  expressed  by 
Henry  in  2  Henry  IV.,  iv.  5.  23,  &c. 

251.  majestical.     Cp.  iii.  P.  16,  n. 

254.  distressful  bread,  bread  won  by  hard  toil. 

255.  horrid,  dreadful,  as  in  iii.  6.  73  and  generally. 

256.  from  the  rise  to  set,  of  the  sun,  personified  as  Phrebus. 
259.  Hyperion,  another  personification  of  the  sun.     The  man 

rises  before  the  sun  has  harnessed  his  team  for  the  day. 

264.  Had,  would  have. 

265.  member,  sharer.     Cp.  Othello,  iii.  4.   112,   "a  member  of 
his  love  ". 

266.  wots,  knows.     See  Glossary. 

268.  advantages,  benefits.     The  subject  is  'whose  hours',  so 
this  is  a  case  of  a  verb  with  the  form  of  the  3rd  pers.  sing,  standing 
with  a  plural  subject.    See  Appendix  IV.  (d).    It  might  be  tempting 
to  take  'best  ad  vantages  '=  'gets  most  advantage  from  ',  but  Shake- 
speare gives  no  authority  for  such  a  use. 
274.  Possess,  see  note  on  line  106  above. 
The  Ff.  have — 

"  Take  from  them  now 

The  sence  of  reckning  of  th'  opposed  numbers : 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them    . 

This  has  been  defended  by  Ritson,  who  takes  '  hearts '  = '  feeling 
and  reflection',  although  the  word  is  used  three  lines  higher  in  a 
different  sense.  Ritson's  view,  thus  improbable  in  itself,  is  further 
weakened  by  the  reading  of  the  Quartos — 

"Take  from  them  now  the  sence  of  reckoning 
That  the  apposed  multitudes  which  stand  before  them 
May  not  appall  their  courage  ", 


190  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV 

where  the  words  'the  apposed  multitudes'  are  the  subject  of  a  sub- 
ordinate clause  and  separated  by  a  conjunction  from  what  precede. 

Theobald  corrected  the  Folios  by  reading  '  lest  the  opposed,  &c. ', 
Tyrwhitt  '//the  opposed,  &c.'.  The  latter  reading  is  adopted  by 
Mr.  Wright  as  involving  the  less  change.  It  seems  to  me  open  to  an 
objection,  however,  which  would  not  hold  against  '  lest  — that  it 
introduces  a  confusion  of  points  of  time.  It  is  clear  from  the  king's 
prayer,  "Possess  them  not  with  fear",  that  he  did  not  think  of  his 
men  as  already  cowed,  but  feared  they  might  become  so  in  face  of 
the  foe.  He  is  therefore  made  to  say,  '  Take  from  them  now  the 
sense  of  reckoning  if  the  opposed  numbers  (some  hours  hence)  pluck 
their  hearts  from  them'.  Surely  this  is  illogical. 

I  adopt  a  reading  which  is  as  near  to  the  Folios  as  Tyrwhitt's  and 
is  not  open  to  the  same  objection,  viz.  ' or  (—  before)  the  opposed 
numbers'.  This  reading  is  mentioned  in  the  last  edition  of  the 
'  Cambridge  Shakespeare  '  as  m*  Conj.  anon.',  but  not  adopted. 

276,  277.  Not  to-day... think  not.     Cp.  iii.  6.  156. 

278.  compassing,  obtaining,  securing.     Cp.  Venn*  and  AJonis 
567,  "  Things  out  of  hope  are  compass'd  oft  with  venturing  ". 

279.  interred  new.      Shakespeare  had  read  in  Holinshed  that 
Henry  "caused  the  boclie  of  King  Richard  to  be  remooued  with  all 
funerall  dignitie  conuenient   for  his  estate  from   Langlie  to  West- 
minster where  he  was  honorablie  interred  with   queene  Anne  his 
first  wife,  in  a  solemne  toome  erected  and  set  vp  at  the  charges  of  this 
king"  (December  4,  1413).    By  'Langlie'  is  meant  King's  Langley, 
Herts. 

285.  Two  chantries.     Henry  built  a  house  for  Carthusian  monks 
at  Shene.  and  one  for  August  in  ians  (65  nuns  and  25  men)  at  Sion, 
Twickenham.      The   latter  was  afterwards   moved  near  Isleworth. 
Mr.  Wright  remarks  that  "although  it  appears  from  the  charters  of 
foundation  of  these  houses  that  Henry  did  not  establish  them  that 
masses  might  be  sung  for  the  repose  of  Richard's  soul ",  yet  it  is 
possible  that  Shakespeare  may  have  been  led  to  make  this  statement 
by  Fabyan's  Chronicle. 

sad,  grave.     See  Glossary. 

286.  still,  ever.     Cp.  i.  2.  145. 

287.  Henry  guards  against  claiming  any  merit  for  his  good  acts. 
He  remembers  St.  Luke,  xvi.  10. 

292.  Henry  is  brought  back  by  Gloucester's  summons  to  the 
thought  of  the  immense  responsibility  which  he  alone  has  to  bear, 
but  now  in  the  moment  of  action  he  accepts  it  without  demur. 

Scene  2. 

The  French  princes  receive  the  summons  to  battle,  their  immense 
self-confidence  being  still  further  raised  by  an  account  of  the  pitiable 
exhibition  presented  by  the  English  army.  The  dramatist's  insist- 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  191 

ence  on  the  self-confidence  of  the  French  is  not  without  purpose. 
The  audience  who  know  what  is  coming  already  derive  a  pleasure 
from  the  thought  of  the  contrast  which  a  few  hours  will  avail  to 
produce,  and  their  patriotic  joy  in  the  victory  will  be  increased  by 
the  consideration  that  it  is  the  fulfilment  of  poetic  justice.  After 
proud  words  there  should  come  a  fall. 
This  scene  is  not  found  in  the  Qq. 

2.  Montez  cheval.     The  Ff.  have  'Monte  CheuaT. 
varlet,  page.     See  Glossary. 

4.  If  the  Dauphin's  words  have  any  meaning,  it  is  probably  that 
suggested  by  Mr.  Deighton:  "He  says  to  his  horse  'Away  (over) 
water  and  land  !'  to  which  Orleans  bantering  him  replies,  '  Nothing 
more?  not  air  and  fire  also?'  and  the  Dauphin  answers  '(Yes) 
Heaven!'"  Mr.  Deighton  refers  to  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iv.  10. 
3,  4— 

Ant.    "  Their  preparation  is  to-day  by  sea : 
We  please  them  not  by  land. 

Scar.  For  both,  my  lord. 

Ant.        I  would  they  'Id  fight  i"  the  fire  or  i'  the  air; 
We  'Id  fight  there  too." 

For  via  Steevens  refers  us  to  King  Edward  III.  (1596),  ii.  2.  12 — 
"  Then  Via!  for  the  spacious  bounds  of  France  ". 

g.   make  incision,  spur  them. 

it.  dout,  put  out,  extinguish.  See  Glossary.  The  Ff.  give  doubt. 
courage  is  here  synonymous  with  the  blood  in  which  it  is 
supposed  to  reside. 

14.  embattled,  arrayed  for  battle. 

18.  shales,  shells.     See  Glossary. 

21.  curtle-axe,  cutlass,  short  sword.     See  Glossary. 

23.  for  lack  of  sport.     Cp.  iii.  I.  21. 

25.  exceptions,  objections.     Cp.  ii.  4.  34. 

28.  squares  of  battle.     Cp.  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iii.  II.  40, 
"  the  brave  squares  of  war  ". 

enow.     See  iv.  I.  209. 

29.  hilding.     See  Glossary. 

30.  basis.     Shakespeare  also  uses  the  form  base. 

31.  speculation,   onlooking.      The   peasants  and   menials  that 
attend  our  army  would  be  enough  to  beat  the  English,  though  we 
fighting  men  merely  looked  on. 

32.  must  not,  must  not  (suffer  or  do).    The  infin.  usually  omitted 
is  go.     Cp.  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  iv.   I.  25,  "I  must  to  the 
barber's". 


192  KING    IIKNRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

32.  What's  to  say?  To  say  represents  the  O.  E.  gerund.  Cp. 
i.  2.  36,  "to  make"',  i.  2.  50,  "to  wit".  The  Constable  means  'No 
need  to  say  much'. 

35.  tucket  sonance,   the  sound  of  the  tucket.     See  Glossary, 
1  tucket'. 

36.  dare  the  field,  strike  fear  in  the  adversary.     A  hawk  was 
said  to  '  dare '  its  prey  when  it  caused  it  in  fear  to  keep  close  to  the 
ground.     Nares  quotes  from  Chapman,  The  Gentleman  Usher — 

"  A  cast  of  Faulcons  on  their  merry  wings, 
Daring  the  stooped  prey,  that  shifting  rlies"; 

and  from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  The  Pilgrim — 

"some  castrel"  (kestrel) 
"  That  hovers  over  her  and  dares  her  daily  ". 

39.  Grandpre  comes  to  announce  that  the  English  are  already  in 
the   field.      He  cannot  speak  of  them   without  referring  to  their 
miserable  appearance. 

Yon  island  carrions,  a  contemptuous  expression  for  'those 
English'.  Cp.  Julius  Ccesar,  ii.  I.  130,  "old  feeble  carrions". 

desperate  of,  in  despair  of.  Cp.  Two  Gentlemen,  iii.  2.  5,  "  I 
am  desperate  of  obtaining  her ''. 

40.  Ill-favouredly  become,  ill  become,  disgrace.     Cp.  Merry 
Wives,  iii.  5.  68 — 

Ford.   "And  sped  you,  sir? 
Fal.         Very  ill-favouredly." 

41.  curtains,  contemptuously  used  for  the  banners  which  hung 
limpf  and  had  none  of  the  '  bravery '  of  war. 

42.  passing  scornfully,  exceeding  scornfully.   By  a  play  of  poetic 
fancy  the  mere  air  of  France  is  thought  of  as  scorning  the  English. 
On  the  other  hand  in  King  Edward  III.,  iv.  4.  21,  where  the  French 
army  is  in  question — 

"The  banners,  bannerets, 
And  new-replenished  pennants  cuff  the  air, 
And  beat  the  winds,  that  for  their  gaudiness, 
Struggles  to  kiss  them  ". 

Cp.  i.  P.  14,  «. 

43.  Big,  proud,  stout.     Cp.  Coriolanus,  iii.  2.  128 — 

"  I  mock  at  death 
\Vith  as  big  heart  as  thou". 

bankrupt,  spelt  in  the  Ff.  '  banqu'rout '.  (Fr.  banqueroute, 
bankruptcy. )  The  word  became  bankrupt  in  English  on  the  analogy 
of  'abrupt',  and  also  changed  its  sense. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  193 

44.  faintly,  timidly.     Cp.   Venus  and  Adonis,  401,  "  Who  is  so 
faint  that  dare  not...". 

beaver,  helmet,  or,  more  properly,  front  part  of  the  helmet. 
See  Glossary. 

45.  like  fixed  candlesticks.     Steevens  says  there  is  an  allusion 
here  to  candlesticks  representing  figures  holding  the  sockets  for  the 
light  ('torch-staves')  in  their  extended  hands,  such  as  are  mentioned 
in  Webster's   White  Devil  or  Vittoria  Colombona  (p.  19,  ed.  Dyce): 
"  I  saw  him  at  last  tilting;  he  showed  like  a  pewter  candlestick, 
fashioned  like  a  man  in  armour,  holding  a  tilting-staff  in  his  hand, 
little  bigger  than  a  candle  of  twelve  i'  th'  pound." 

46.  jades,  see  iii.  5.  19,  ;/. 

47.  Lob,  droop  heavily. 

48.  gum,  also  used  of  the  rheum  of  the  eyes  in  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  201, 
"their  eyes|"  (i.e.  old  men's  eyes)  "  purging  thick  amber  and  plum- 
tree  gum". 

down -roping.     See  Glossary,  '  roping1. 

49.  gimmal,  double,  or  consisting  of  double  rings.    See  Glossary. 
The  Ff.  have  'lymold'. 

51,  52.  In  King  Edward  ///.,  iv.    5,  just  before   Poitiers,  the 
French  king  says — 

"  these  ravens,  for  the  carcases 
Of  those  poor  English,  that  are  mark'd  to  die, 
Hover  about ". 

51.  executors,  in  the  legal  sense,  '  disposing  of  their  persons  after 
death'. 
54.  battle.     Cp.  iv.  P.  9,  n. 

57.  go  send.    Cp.  iv.  5.  18.    The  inf.  is  used  after  'go',  'come 
without  'to'.     In  such  cases  we  now  generally  say,  'go  and...'. 

59.  after,  afterwards. 

60.  The  Ff.  read— 

"  I  stay  but  for  my  Guard:  on 
To  the  field  ",  &c. 

Shakespeare  is  following  Holinshed's  account:  "They  thought 
themselues  so  sure  of  victorie,  that  diuerse  of  the  noble  men  made 
such  hast  towards  the  battell,  that  they  left  manie  of  their  seruants 
and  men  of  warre  behind  them,  and  some  of  them  would  not  once 
staie  for  their  standards :  as  amongst  other  the  duke  of  Brabant, 
when  his  standard  was  not  come,  caused  a  baner  to  be  taken  from  a 
trumpet  and  fastened  to  a  speare,  the  which  he  commanded  to  be 
borne  before  him  in  steed  of  his  standard  ". 

If  the  reading  is  sound,  Shakespeare  uses  '  my  guard '  =  Holin- 
shed's '  seruants  and  men  of  warre '.     Most  editors  have,  however, 
adopted  a  reading  first  suggested  in  Rann's  edition  of  Shakespeare 
(M178)  N 


194  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

(1786-1794),  I  stay  but  for  my  guidon:  to  the  field!"  where 
'guidon'  is  made  -  Holinshed's  'standard'.  The  word  'guidon', 
("ruin  F.  gnider,  to  guide,  has  good  authority  in  English,  and  Pals- 
grave (1530)  has  ' Ciuydern,  a  banerin  a  felde,  guidon*.  Dr.  Nichol- 
son has,  however,  shown  ( 'J'rans.  of  the  New  Shakipere  Society, 
1880-86,  p.  203,  &c. )  that  while  a  'guidon'  was  long  and  forked 
and  was  carried  by  a  mere  captain,  a  Banneret  or  Baron  carried  a 
'  banner '  which  was  exactly  square.  Shakespeare  would  therefore 
be  guilty  of  false  heraldry  in  identifying  a  '  banner '  with  a  '  guidon ', 
or  making  the  commander  of  the  French  forces  carry  the  inferior 
standard. 

It  seems  best,  therefore,  to  keep  the  reading  of  the  Ff. 

St.  Remy,  who  was  present  at  the  battle  (quoted  in  Nicolas'  Agin- 
court),  describes  the  incident  rather  differently  from  Holinshed:  "Then 
the  duke  Anthony  of  Brabant  arrived... though  with  few  followers,  for 
his  people  could  not  keep  up  with  him...  He  took  one  of  the  banners 
from  his  trumpeters,  and  cutting  a  hole  in  the  middle,  made  a  'cotte 
d'annes'  of  it  ,  i.e.  he  wore  it  as  a  tabard.  (Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  iv.  2. 
48,  "the  half  shirt  is  two  napkins  tacked  together  and  thrown  over 
the  shoulders  like  an  herald'scoat  without  sleeves". )  See  iii.  6. 106,  //. 

61.  trumpet,  a  trumpeter.  Cp.  iv.  7.  50,  and  j  Henry  VI.,  v. 
I.  16  — 

"Go,  trumpet,  to  the  walls  and  sound  a  parle". 

63.  outwear,  waste,  let  pass. 

Scene  3. 

The  scene,  in  contrast  to  scene  I  of  this  act,  shows  the  high  mettle 
of  the  king  in  the  hour  of  action,  his  power  to  infuse  his  own  radiant 
valour  into  his  followers,  his  serene  rejection  of  the  terms  offered  by 
the  enemy.  Henry's  speech,  lines  18-67,  's  perhaps  the  most  stirring 
expression  of  high  courage  in  the  English  language,  and  all  the  more 
so  from  its  ringing  so  true  and  so  simple,  and  from  its  spirit  of  gener- 
ous comradeship  with  all,  high  or  low,  who  did  their  part  to  win 
the  day. 

2.  is  rode,  past  part,  borrowed  from  the  past  tense.     Cp.  iii.  6. 
76.     For  is  cp.  ii.  P.  34,  note. 

battle,  cp.  iv.  P.  9,  note. 

3.  three   score    thousand.      Holinshed   gives   the  number  as 
"  threescore  thousand    horsemen,   besides   footmen,    wagoners  and 
other". 

4.  five  to  one.     Holinshed  says  "six  times  as  manie  or  more". 

5.  a  fearful  odds.     For  odds  as  a  sing.,  cp.  Richard  //.,  iii.  4. 89, 
"with   that  odds";   Othello,  ii.  3,  185,  "  this  peevish  odds  ".       See 
Glossary. 

6.  God  bye  you  (Ff.   'God  buy'  you'),   God  be  wi'  you.     I 


Scene  3.]  ^         NOTES.  195 

retain  (with  a  slight  modification  of  spelling)  the  reading  of  the 
Folios,  both  here  and  in  v.  I.  60,  firstly,  because  to  change  it 
into  '  God  be  wi'  you  '  entails  an  unjustifiable  alteration  in  the  rhythm 
of  the  lines;  secondly,  because  it  throws  an  interesting  light  on  the 
history  of  our  modern  '  Good-bye'.  Skeat  (English  Etymology,  ser. 
I.  p.  423)  writes:  "  God  be  with  you  was  cut  down  to  Godbtvyoi  God 
buy:  after  which,  the  sense  being  obscured,  the  word  ye,  yee,  or  you 
was  again  appended;  so  that  the  modern  E.  good-bye  really  stands  for 
Evelyn's  Good  by^e,  i.e.  for  God  be  with  you  ye,  or  God  be  ivith  you  you" . 

10.  my  kind  kinsman,  i.e.  Westmoreland.     See  note  on  Dra- 
matis Persona,  '  Salisbury '. 

11.  The  Ff.  tack  on  to  this  line  the  last  two  lines  of  the  next 
speech.      The   present   arrangement  was  suggested  by  Thirlby  to 
Theobald. 

13.  mind,  remind,  as  in  1.  84. 

16.  Holinshed  gives  no  name  to  the  author  of  this  wish  :  "It  is 
said  that  as  he  heard  one  of  the  host  vtter  his  wish  to  another  thus: 
I  would  to  God  there  were  with  vs  now  so  manie  good  soldiers  as 
are  at  this  houre  within  England !  the  king  answered  :  I  would  not 
wish  a  man  more  here  than  I  haue,  &c.'  According  to  an  eye- 
witness (Sir  H.  Nicolas,  'Agincourt),  the  speaker  was  in  fact  Sir 
Walter  Hungerford,  and  his  wish  was  for  10,000  more  archers. 

19.  cousin.     See  i.  2.  4,  note. 

20.  enow.      See   iv.    I.    209,    note.     Holinshed   gives  Henry's 
words  as  follows:  %<  And  if  so  be  that  for  our  offenses  sakes  we  shall 
be  deliuered  into  the  handes  of  our  enemies,  the  lesse  number  we  be 
the  lesse  damage  shall  the  realme  of  England  susteine". 

24.  By  Jove.  Such  heathen  oaths  are  often  substituted  in  out 
texts  for  Christian  oaths  in  obedience  to  the  Act  of  1606  against  pro- 
fanity on  the  stage. 

26.  yearns,  vexes.     See  ii.  3.  3,  note,  and  Glossary. 

32.  share  from  me,  take  from  me  as  his  share. 

35,  36.  That  he... Let  him,  a  transition  from  the  indirect  to 
the  direct  speech.  Cp.  St.  Luke,  v.  14,  "And  he  charged  him  to 
tell  no  man,  but  go  thy  way",  &c. 

35.  stomach,  inclination.     Cp.  iii.  7.  142. 

38.  die.     Coleridge  suggested  live. 

39.  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us,  his  companionship  with  us 
in  the  risk  of  death. 

40.  the  feast  of  Crispian,  called  in  1.  57,  'Crispin  Crispian', 
October  25th.     Crispinus  and  Crispianus  were  brethren,  martyred  at 
Soissons  in  France,  in  A.D.  287,  or  early  in  the  next  century.     Hav- 
ing supported  themselves  by  shoemaking,  they  became  the  patron- 
saints  of  shoemakers. 

44.  live. ..see.     The  Ff.  hive  '  see... live'.     Pope's  correction. 


196  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

45-  vigil,  the  eve  before  the  saint's  day. 

48.  This  line  is  only  found  in  the  Qq. 

49.  yet  all,  even  all— unless  'yet'  is  a  corruption  of  'yes'  or 
'yea'. 

50.  with  advantages,  that  is,  the  story  will  improve  with  time. 
Such  a  touch  of  humour  serves  to  keep  the  king's  speech  in  a  natural 
tone.     Cp.  iii.  P.  22,  note. 

52.  his  mouth.  The  Qq.  have  'their  mouthes*.  But  the 
singular  gives  a  far  more  vivid  picture.  The  old  soldier  tells  the 
tale,  which  his  cronies  have  heard  so  often,  and  they  drink  with  him 
to  the  memory  of  the  battle. 

54,  Talbot.  Gilbert  Talbot,  eleventh  Baron  Talbot,  died  1419. 
For  the  other  names  see  notes  on  Dramatis  Persona. 

63.  gentle  his  condition,  make  him  a  gentleman.  King  Henry 
in  1417  forbade  the  assumption  of  coats-of-arms  by  persons  without  a 
right  to  them,  but  excepted  those  who  had  fought  with  him  at  the 
battle  of  Agincourt. 

66.  whiles.     See  Glossary. 

68.  bestow  yourself,  take  up  your  position. 

69.  bravely,  making  a  brave  show. 

in  their  battles  set,  drawn  up  in  their  divisions. 

70.  expedience,  expedition,  speed.     Cp.  Ruhard  //.,  ii.  1.287, 
"are  making  hither  with  all  due  expedience". 

74.  would.     How  should  would  be  parsed? 

76.  five  thousand.     As,  according  to  1.  4,  the  number  of  the 
English  was  about    12,000,    the   number   5000   is  here   used   veiy 
loosely.      Possibly,   as  Mr.   \Vorrall    suggests,    Shakespeare  wrote 
ten  thousand,  with  a  reference  to  1.  17  above. 

77.  likes,  pleases.     See  iii.  P.  32;  iv.  I.  16. 
79.  Stage-direction.     Tucket.     See  Glossary. 

Holinshed  writes:  "the  French  thus  in  their  jolitie,  sent  an  herald 
to  king  Henrie,  to  inquire  what  ransome  he  would  offer.  Where- 
vnto  he  answered,  that  within  two  or  three  houres  he  hoped  it  would 
so  happen  that  the  Frenchmen  should  be  glad  to  common  (—  com- 
mune, confer)  rather  with  the  Englishmen  for  their  ransoms,  than 
the  Englishmen  to  take  thought  for  their  deliuerance,  promising  for 
his  owne  part,  that  his  dead  carcasse  should  rather  be  a  prize  to  the 
Frenchmen,  than  that  his  living  bodie  should  pale  anie  ransome." 

83.  englutted,  swallowed  up.     Fr.  engloiiti. 

84.  mind,  remind,  as  in  1.  13. 

86.  a  peaceful  and  a  sweet.  For  the  repetition  of  a,  cp.  iii.  5. 
13,  and  iv.  i.  186. 

retire,  retreat.     A  noun  formed  from  the  verb  without  change. 
It  occurs  frequently  in  Shakespeare. 


Scene  3.]  NOTES.  197 

88.  fester,  go  to  corruption.  Cp.  Romeo,  iv.  3.  43,  "lies  fester- 
ing in  his  shroud  ". 

91.  achieve,  make  an  end  of.     Fr.  achever.     Cp.  iii.  3.  8. 

95.  A  many.     See  iii.  7.  69,  note. 

97.  in  brass.  Monumental  figures  and  inscriptions  in  brass  were 
frequently  let  into  tombstones,  and  are  still  to  be  seen  in  our 
churches. 

101.  In  the  mist  rising  from  these  graves  the  poetic  imagination 
sees  a  symbol  of  the  noble  deeds  of  the  dead  mounting  to  heaven. 

104.  abounding.     This  reading  of  the  Ff.  is  confirmed  by  that 
of  the  Qq. — 'abundant',  otherwise  the  context  might  suggest  (as  it 
did  to  Theobald)  that  the  true  reading  should  be  'a  bounding',  &c. 

105.  grazing  (Ff.   I  and  2  'erasing'),  just  touching  the  object 
and  glancing  away. 

107.  in  relapse  of  mortality,  in  a  deadly  rebound  (as  Richard 
III.,  iii.  7.  97,  "fall  of  vanity "  =  ' vain  fall').  The  sense  'in  their 
dying  fall '  would  not  apply  to  the  buried  English. 

109.  for  the  working- day,  for  work,  not  for  show. 

no.  gilt,  used  metaphorically  for  'fine  trappings'.     Cp.  Timon, 
iv.  3.  302,  "  when  thou  wast  in  thy  gilt  and  thy  perfume", 
besmirch'd,  soiled. 

in.  painful,  toilsome. 

114.  slovenry,  only  used  here.     Shakespeare  once  uses  slovenly 
(l  Henry  IV.,  i.  3.  44),  but  never  sloven  or  slovenliness. 

115.  in  the  trim,  used  metaphorically,  'in  the  right  attire'  (for 
fighting). 

119.  turn  them  (i.e.  the  French  soldiers)  out  of  service.     To 
strip  them  of  their  coats  would  be  the  natural  sign  of  dismissal. 
122.  gentle,  well  born.     Cp.  iv.  5.  15. 

124.  'em,  a  relic  of  the  M.E.  hem,  which  was  supplanted  in  use 
by  the  Northern  them. 

125.  shall  yield  them  little,  Henry  means  that  they  should  be 
hacked  to  pieces  before  the  French  got  them. 

126.  fare  thee  well.     In  this  phrase  '  fare'  is  the  subjunct.  of  the 
impers.  verb  '  it  fares '  = '  (may  it)  fall  out  well  to  thee '.     Cp.  Much 
Ado,  iv.  I.  224,  "So  will  it  fare  with  Claudio".     See  v.  I.  47,  note. 

128.  The  Ff.  give  the  line  in  prose,  "I  feare  thou  wilt  once  more 
come  again  for  a  Ransome  ".  Theobald  made  the  correction  on  the 
ground  that  all  Henry's  other  speeches  in  this  scene  are  in  verse. 

130.  vaward,   vanguard.     See  Glossary.     Perhaps  Shakespeare 
is  here  following  the  poem  (see  iii.  7.  74,  «.)— 
"  The  Duke  of  York  thanne  ful  son 
Before  oure  kyng  he  fell  on  kne, 


198  KING   HENRY  T1IK   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

My  liege  lord,  graunt  me  a  bon, 

For  his  love  that  on  croys  gan  die, 

The  fore  ward  this  day  that  ye  graunt  me... 

Gramercy  cosyn,  seyde  our  kyng...". 

Scenes  4,  5,  6. 

These  scenes  show  the  battle- field,  where 

"  four  or  five  most  vile  and  ragged  foils, 
Right  ill-disposed  in  brawl  ridiculous", 

(so  we  must  interpret  the  stage-direction  '  Excursions')  must  serve 
to  suggest  to  the  audience  the  famous  conflict  of  the  two  armies. 
Some  incidents  of  the  battle  are  then  shown.  First  we  have  the 
vulgar  or  low-comic  side,  the  strutting  Pistol  imposing  on  a  French 
soldier,  who  takes  him  for  something  better  than  he  is,  and  at  the 
same  time  raising  the  mirth  of  the  audience  by  his  ignorance  of  his 
enemy's  language.  Pistol's  real  measure  is  well  taken  (as  before, 
iii.  2.  25,  &c.)  by  the  Boy,  who  then  leaves  to  guard  the  baggage, 
with  a  hint  to  the  audience  of  the  fate  which  awaits  him  and  his 
fellows.  The  Boy  has  shown  spirit  and  sense,  and  the  audience 
parts  with  him  with  a  touch  of  pity  and  regret.  In  scene  5  the 
French  princes  are  seen  at  the  opposite  pole  to  the  exultant  self- 
confidence  they  showed  a  few  hours  earlier.  Now  all  is  lost,  and 
they  have  no  hope  but  to  find  a  gallant  death.  In  scene  6  King 
Henry  is  told  in  a  touching  speech  of  the  brave  ends  made  by 
Suffolk  and  York.  Suddenly  a  new  rally  of  the  French  is  perceived, 
and  the  king,  short  of  men,  gives  the  order  to  kill  all  prisoners. 

Scene  4. 

4.  Qualtitie  calmie  custure  me!    This  was  ingeniously  restored 
by  Warburton  and   Edwards,    "Quality  call  you  me?      Construe 
me",  &c.     Malone,  however,  showed  that  Pistol,  after  pronouncing 
as  well  as  he  could  the  last  word  spoken  by  the  French  soldier, 
went  on  to  quote  the  burden  of  a  song,   "  Calen,  o  Custure  me". 
See    in    Clement    Robinson's    Handful  of  Pleasant  Delights   (re- 
printed by  Arber,  p.  33),  "  A  Sonet  of  a  Louer  in  the  praise  of  his 
lady.      To  Calen  o  custure  me:  sung  at  euerie  lines  end".     Mr. 
Wright  adds  that  "  Callino  casturame"  is  one  of  the  airs  in  Queen 
Elizabeths  lrirginal  Book.     The  words  are  said  by  Sir  R.  Stewart  to 
be  a  corruption  of  the  Irish  phrase,  "  Colleen,  oge  astore ! "  —  "  young 
girl,  my  treasure  !" 

5.  discuss.     See  iii.  2.  54,  note. 

8.  Perpend,  weigh. 

9.  of  fox,  a  sword.     Fairholt  (ed.  1885)  derives  the  name  from  the 
Passau  mark,  which,  originally  a  wolf,  in  later  times  more  resembled 


Scene  4.]  NOTES.  199 

&fox,  as  seen  to-day  on  Solingen  blades.     Quoting  Webster's  White 
Dei'il  (ed.  Dyce,  p.  50) — 

"  O  what  blade  is 't  ? 
A  Toledo  or  an  English  fox", 

he  adds,  "  This  may  refer  to  English  forgeries  of  the  Passau  mark". 

ii.   Egregious,  extraordinary,  out  of  the  way.     Used  by  Pistol 
already  in  ii.  I.  39. 

13.  Moy.     Pistol  takes  up  the  word  moi,  which  was  no  doubt 
pronounced  on  the  stage  in  the  English  fashion,  like  bras,  line  17. 
By  may  Pistol  is  thought  to  have  meant  some  coin — not,  however, 
the  moidore,  as  Johnson  supposed,  which  was  unknown  in  England 
in  Shakespeare's  time.     Douce  supposed  Pistol  to  mean  the  French 
muy  or  muid  { =Lat.  modins),  a  bushel. 

14.  Or.     Ff.  'for'.  .  Theobald's  conjecture. 

rim,  the  midriff  or  diaphragm,  a  membrane  dividing  the  heart 
and  lungs  from  the  intestines.  Steevens  quotes  from  Sir  Arthur 
Gorge's  Translation  of  Lucan,  1614,  book  i. — 

"  The  slender  rimme,  too  weake  to  part 
The  boyling  liver  from  the  heart". 

19.  luxurious,  lustful,  wanton.     Cp.  iii.  5.  6. 

22.  me,  as  in  the  next  line,  represents  the  old  dative='to  me", 
'for  me'.     Cp.  iv.  6.  21. 

a  ton  of  moys.  Pistol  gets  this  meaning  out  of  ' pardonnez 
moi'. 

28.  fer,  firk,  ferret.     Pistol  begins  by  merely  echoing  the  name 
he  has  heard,  as  Ford  does  in  Merry  Wives,  iv.  2.  193 — 

"Mrs.  Page.   Come,  Mother  Prat;  come,  give  me  your  hand. 
Ford.   I  '11  prat  her." 

He  continues  with  his  usual  love  of  alliteration  (see  iii.  6.  25). 

firk,  whip.     The  word  is  only  found  here  in  Shakespeare,  but 
is  common  in  his  contemporaries.     Cp.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Night  Walker,  v.  I.  (quoted  by  Mr.  Wright)— 
"There  be  dog-whips 
To  firk  such  ragged  curs", 

and  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  ii.  I — 

"  O  you  old  mad  colt,  i'  faith  I  '11  ferk  you", 
ferret,  worry  you  as  a  ferret  does  a  rabbit.     Schmidt  quotes 
from  The  Old  King  Leir  (ed.  Nichols,  p.  461):  "I'll  ferret  you  ere 
night  for  that  word". 

47.  abate.     Cp.  iii.  2.  20. 

63.   As  I  suck  blood.     Cp.  ii.  3.  54. 

67.  heart,  as  the  seat  of  courage.     Cp.  iv.  i.  280. 


200  KING    HENRY   THK   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

69,70.  roaring  devil  i' the  old  play... dagger.  No  special  play 
is  referred  to,  but  the  old  Moralities  in  which  the  Devil  was  con- 
stantly belaboured  by  the  Vice  or  buffoon.  Cp.  Ilarsnet,  Declara- 
tion of  Topiih  Imposture,  p.  114  (quoted  by  Malone) :  "It  was  a 
prety  part  in  the  old  Church-playes  when  the  nimble  Vice  would 
skip  vp  nimbly  like  a  lacke  an  Apes  into  the  deuils  necke,  and 
ride  the  deuil  a  course,  and  belabour  him  with  his  wooden  dagger 
til  he  made  him  roare".  Cp.  also  Twelfth  Night,  iv.  2.  134 — 

"Like  to  the  old  Vice... 
Who  with  dagger  of  lath 
In  his  rage  and  his  wrath 

Cries,  ah,  ha!  to  the  devil: 
Like  a  mad  lad, 
Pare  thy  nails,  dad — " 

Probably  one  of  the  Vice's  tricks  was  to  pare  the  Devil's  long  claws. 

69.  that.  The  construction  is  not  quite  clear.  Dr.  Abbott  takes 
that  to  be  the  conjunction,  not  the  rel.  pron.,  and  explains:  "than 
this  (fellow,  who  is)  a  mere  devil-in  the-play,  so  that  every  one  may 
beat  him". 

71.  both  hanged.  We  heard  of  Bardolph's  sentence  in  ii.  6, 
but  it  is  news  to  us  that  Nym  shared  the  same  fate. 

73-  luggage,  we  should  say  'baggage'. 

the  French,  the  French  foe  or  the  French  king.     Cp.  v.  2. 
199. 
74.   is.     See  Appendix  IV.  (6). 

Scene  5. 

I.  Coleridge  (Lectures  on  Shakspere,  ed.  Ashe,  p.  272)  thus  com- 
ments on  the  opening  of  this  scene: — "  Ludicrous  as  these  introduc- 
tory scraps  of  French  appear,  so  instantly  followed  by  good  nervous 
mother- English,  yet  they  are  judicious,  and  produce  the  impression 
which  Shakspere  intended — a  sudden  feeling  struck  at  once  on  the 
ears  as  well  as  the  eyes  of  the  audience,  that  'here  come  the  French, 
the  baffled  French  braggards '.  And  this  will  appear  still  more 
judicious  when  we  reflect  on  the  scanty  apparatus  of  distinguishing 
dresses  in  Shakspere's  tiring-room." 

5.   Sits.     See  ii.  2.  12,  note,  and  Appendix  IV.  (a). 

7.  perdurable,  lasting.  Only  used  elsewhere  by  Shakespeare  in 
Othello,  i.  3.  343,  "  cables  of  perdurable  toughness". 

ii.  honour,  omitted  by  the  Ff.  and  inserted  here  by  Knight  from 
the  final  line  of  the  scene  in  the  Qq. — 

"  Lets  dye  with  honour,  our  shame  doth  last  too  long". 
15.  by  a  slave.     F.  i  has  'a  base  slave',  the  other  Folios  'by  a 


Scene  6.]  NOTES.  201 

base  slave'.     The  word  base,  which  had  crept  in  from  the  line  above, 
was  struck  out  by  Pope. 

gentler.     Cp.  iv.  3.  122. 

16.  contaminate.      The   Ff.    have   contaminated  but   I    follow 
Malone   in    believing  that    Shakespeare  wrote  contaminate.      This 
form  of  the  participle  greatly  improves  the  metre,  and  gets  some 
support  from  the  corrupt  reading  of  the  Qq.,  '  contamuracke'.      In 
the  only  other  passage  in  Shakespeare  in  which  the  past  part,  of 
this  verb  ends  a  verse,  we  have  this  form — Comedy  of  Errors,  ii.  2. 

135— 

"And  that  this  body  consecrate  to  thee 
By  ruffian  lust  should  be  contaminate". 

17.  spoil'd,  destroyed,  ruined.     Cp.  Othello,  v.  i.  54 — 

"I  am  spoil'd,  undone  by. villains". 

friend,  befriend.     Cp.  Troilus,  i.  2.  84,  "time  must  friend  or 
end". 

18.  on  heaps,  in  heaps.     Cp.  Y.  2.  39,  also  Troilus,  iii.  2.  29, 
"  charge  on  heaps";  Psalms,  Ixxviii.  14,  "He  made  the  waters  to  stand 
on  an  heap";  Piers  Plowman,  B.  Prol.  53,  "heremites  on  an  heep". 
The  use  of  on  in  this  phrase  is  a  survival  of  its  use  in  O.E.  in  cases 
where  we  now  use  in. 

go  offer  up.     Cp.  iii.  7.  83. 
After  this  line  the  Qq.  have — 

"  Unto  these  English  or  else  die  with  fame". 

19.  enow,  see  iv.  I.  209,  n. 

ao.  smother  up,  smother.  The  English  language  is  very  fond 
of  these  added  adverbs,  which  prove  a  great  difficulty  to  foreigners. 
We  say  'finish  up',  'burn  up',  'shut  up',  'eat  up':  Shakespeare 
goes  further  and  says,  '  kill  up'  (As  You  Like  It,  ii.  I.  62),  'poison  up' 
(Love's  Labour's  Lost,  iv.  3.  305),  'stifle  up'  (King John,  iv.  3.  133), 
'crown  up'  (Troilus,  iii.  2.  189).  Cp.  ii.  2.  115,  'bungle  up'. 

21.  might,  where  we  should  use  'could'.  This  corresponds  to 
Shakespeare's  use  of  'may'  where  we  should  use  'can'.  See  i.  P. 
12,  «. 

Scene  6. 

3.  York.     See  note  on  Dramatis  Persona. 
him,  reflexive.     Cf.  i.  2.  93,  «. 

5.  I  saw  him  down.  Monstrelet  relates  that  York  was  struck 
down  by  Alen9on,  and  the  king  in  endeavouring  to  raise  him  received 
a  blow  on  the  helmet  from  Alen9on  which  struck  off  part  of  his  crown. 

8.  Larding,  enriching  (with  his  blood).   Cp.  iHenrylV.,  ii.  2. 116 — 

"  Falstaff  sweats  to  death, 
And  lards  the  lean  earth  as  he  walks  along". 


202  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

I  cannot  agree  with  Mr.  Wright  in  taking  '  larding'  =  'garnishing', 
on  the  strength  of  Hamlet,  iv.  5.  37,  "larded  with  sweet  flowers". 
Flowers  stuck  about  a  shroud  may  have  some  resemblance  to  little 
pieces  of  lard  stuck  by  way  of  garnish  upon  meat ;  but  I  cannot 
think  that  the  dead  warrior's  body  stretched  on  the  plain  would  have 
suggested  to  Shakespeare  any  such  mean  comparison. 

9.  Yoke-fellow,  see  ii.  3.  50,  «. 

honour-owing,  honour-possessing,  honourable.  See  Glossary. 

10.  Suffolk.     Michael  de  la  Pole,  third  Karl  of  Suffolk,  slain  at 
Agincourt,    2jth    October,    1415,    and    left    no  issue.     His  father, 
Michael  de  la  Pole,  second  earl,  had  died   before   Harfleur,    l8th 
September,  1415. 

11.  haggled  over,  hacked  about.     See  Glossary. 

The  details  here  given  are  not  historical.  Holinshed  only  says, 
"Of  Englishmen  there  died  at  this  battell,  Edward  duke  Vorke, 
the  earle  of  Suffolke  ",  &c. 

12.  insteep'd,  steeped,  drenched.     In   Othello,  ii.  I.  70,  Shake- 
speare speaks  of  rocks  '  ensteep'd  '  in  the  sea.     He  is  fond  of  com- 
pounds in  en,  in.     See  Abbott,  440. 

14.  bloodily.     See  note  on  iv.  i.  141,  'sinfully'. 

15.  And.     Ff.  'he'.     Pope  took  '  and  '  from  the  Qq. 

16.  thine  keep  company,   keep  thine  company.     Shakespeare 
says   either    'keep   him    company',   or  'bear  him  company'    (e.g. 
Comedy  of  Errors,  i.  I.  130).     The  middle  word  corresponds  to  an 
old  dative,  as  in  line  21  below. 

18.  well-foughten.  The  participle  (of  a  strong  verb)  used  as  an 
adjective  tends  to  retain  the  original  suffix  -en,  when  it  loses  it 
otherwise.  Cp.  'a  drunken  man",  'the  man  is  drunk'. 

20.  Upon.     Frequently  used  by  Shakespeare  in  a  temporal  sense, 
as  we  say,  'upon  this'.     Cp.  Hamlet,  i.  I.  6,  "  You  come  most  care- 
fully upon  your  hour". 

cheer'd  him  up.     See  iv.  5.  20,  n. 

21.  me... me.     See  iv.  4.  22,  «. 

raught,  past  tense  of  '  reach  ',  as  '  taught '  of  '  teach '.  So  in 
Chaucer's  account  of  the  Prioress  (Pivhfftie,  136),  "  Ful  semelv  after 
hir  mete  she  raughte".  The  O.K.  verb  is  r<kcan,  past  tense  reehte. 

22.  Dear  my  lord.     The  possessive  adjective  and  its  noun  in 
forms  of  address  were  so  closely  associated  that  a  qualifying  adjective 
was  often  placed  before  them,  instead  of  between  them.    Cp.  ii.  4.  71 : 
iv.  7.  104. 

31.  all  my  mother,  all  that  was  womanly  in  me.  So  in  Hamlet, 
iv.  7.  190,  Laertes  says— 

"  When  these  are  gone, 
The  woman  will  be  out " ; 
that  is,  when  I  am  alone,  I  shall  be  forced  to  weep. 


Scene  7.]  NOTES.  203 

33.  compound,  come  to  terms.     Cp.  iv.  3.  80. 

34.  mistful.    Ff.  '  mixtfull '.    The  correction  was  made  by  War- 
burton. 

issue,  burst  into  tears. 

35.  alarum,  alarm  sounded  on  the  trumpet,  call  to  arms.     See 
Glossary. 

38  Give  the  word  through,  pass  the  order  throughout  the  army. 

Scenes  7  and  8. 

These  scenes  bring  the  day  of  the  great  battle  to  a  close.  They 
are  conspicuous,  as  is  the  whole  play,  for  their  alternate  appeals  to 
the  loftier  and  to  the  more  everyday  feelings  of  the  audience,  the 
former  couched  in  verse,  the  latter  in  prose.  We  hear  first  the 
approval  passed  by  those  good  soldiers,  Fluellen  and  Gower,  on  the 
king's  order  to  kill  the  prisoners  and  on  the  king  himself.  At  this 
moment  Henry  comes  in,  angry  with  the  French  for  killing  his  'boys' 
and  for  still  showing  some  resistance.  He  peremptorily  orders  them 
to  disperse,  and  then  receives  the  French  herald,  whose  present  visit 
presents  a  contrast  of  strong  dramatic  interest  to  his  previous  visit 
in  iv.  3.  His  last  words  had  then  been :  "  Thou  never  shalt  hear 
herald  any  more".  He  now  comes  to  ask  permission  for  the  French 
to  bury  their  dead,  and  in  reply  to  Henry's  question  admits  "  The 
day  is  yours".  Even  before  Montjoy  leaves  the  stage,  Fluellen,  as 
one  Welshman  with  another,  has  got  the  king  into  conversation,  and 
after  Montjoy's  departure  the  interest  of  the  audience  is  occupied 
with  the  trivial  incident  of  the  glove,  and  the  quarrel  which  Henry 
humorously  provokes  between  Fluellen  and  Williams.  In  scene 
8  this  comic  quarrel  is  brought  to  a  happy  ending,  and  then  the 
tone  is  raised  again  for  the  end  of  the  act.  Henry  receives  the  list 
of  the  slain,  in  which  the  English  loss  is  so  trifling  as  compared  with 
that  of  their  enemies.  He  ascribes  the  victory  to  God,  and  vows  all 
due  acknowledgment — after  which  he  and  his  men  will  make  their 
happy  return  to  England. 

Scene  7. 

I.  Kill  the  poys  and  the  luggage.  Holinshed  writes:  "  Cer- 
teine  Frenchmen  on  horssebacke  ...  to  the  number  of  six  hundred 
horssemen,  which  were  the  first  that  fled,  hearing  that  the  English 
tents  &  pauilions  were  a  good  waie  distant  from  the  armie,  without 
anie  sufficient  gard  to  defend  the  same,  .  .  .  entred  vpon  the  king's 
campe  and  there  spoiled  the  hails  (  =  pavilions),  robbed  the  tents, 
brake  vp  chests,  and  caried  away  caskets  and  slue  such  seruants  as 
they  found  to  make  anie  resistance  .  .  .  But  when  the  outcrie  of  the 
lackies  and  boies  which  ran  away  for  feare  of  the  Frenchmen  thus 
spoiling  the  campe,  came  to  the  kings  eares,  he  doubting  least  his 


204  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

enimies  should  gather  togither  againe,  and  begin  a  new  field ;  and 
mistrusting  further  that  the  prisoners  would  be  an  aid  to  his  enimies 
.  .  .  contrarie  to  his  accustomed  gentlenes,  commanded  by  sound  of 
trumpet  that  euerie  man  (vpon  paine  of  death)  should  incontinentlie 
slaie  his  prisoner." 

16.  variations.     See  iii.  6.  32,  with  the  note. 

28.  Another  instance  of  Fluellen's  fondness  for  finding  classical 
parallels.     See  iii.  6.  13,  n. 

29.  figures,  points  of  likeness  or  comparison. 
31.  cholers,  angers,  as  in  line  169  below. 

42.  turned  away.  We  may  remember  the  Hostess's  words,  iu 
!•  77»  "The  king  has  killed  his  heart".  Johnson  writes:  "This  is 
the  last  time  that  Falstaff  can  make  sport.  The  poet  was  loath  to 
part  with  him  and  has  continued  his  memory  as  long  as  he  could." 

great-belly  doublet.  In  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  iii.  I,  19,  we 
have  'thin-belly  doublet'.  A  doublet  was  a  close-fitting  vest,  so 
called  from  being  originally  of  two  thicknesses  with  padding  between. 
In  Shakespeare's  time  it  was  often  shaped  to  a  peak  over  the  stom- 
ach, so  that  it  resembled  the  end  of  a  pea- pod,  and  this  peak  would 
be  stuffed  out  or  'bombasted'.  Hence  a  writer  of  1580  mentions 
among  the  fashions  of  the  day  "  Largebellied  Kodpeased  Doublet " 
(see  Fairholt,  Costume  in  England,  ed.  1885,  i.  253-4),  and  another 
in  1597  seems  to  refer  to  the  same  thing  (then  obsolete)  as  the 
"shotten-bellied  doublet".  Here,  of  course,  Shakespeare  plays  on 
the  phrase  in  reference  to  Falstaff's  corpulence. 

49.  was  not.     In  modern  English  we  should  say  'have  not  been' 
in  any  sentence  containing   since   (in  a   temporal    sense),   because 
'since'  has  relation  to  the  present  time.     Notice  the  meanings  of 
'since  Easter'  (i.e.  'up  to  now'),  and  'after  Easter'  (with  no  such 
notion).     Hence  though  we  can  say  equally  naturally,  '  I  never  saw 
you  so  well'  and  'I  have  never  seen  you  so  well'  (in  the  former 
case  treating  the  action  as  merely  past,  in  the  latter  carrying  it  into 
present  time) — when  a  clause  with  since,  or  any  other  word  imply- 
ing present  time,  is  introduced,  we  use  only  the  latter  of  the  two  con- 
structions.    In  Shakespeare's  time  this  was  not  so.     Cp.  Cymbdint, 
iv.  2.  190 — 

"  Since  death  of  my  dear'st  mother 
It  did  not  speak  before"; 

and  line  66  of  the  same — 

"  I  saw  him  not  these  many  years  ". 

50.  trumpet,  trumpeter.     Cp.  iv.  2.  61,  «. 

53.  void,  evacuate,  leave  empty.     See  Glossary. 
55.  skirr,  scurry.     See  Glossary. 


Scene  7.]  NOTES.  205 

56.  Enforced,  driven  by  force.     Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  i.  i.  120— 

"as  the  thing  that's  heavy  in  itself 
Upon  enforcement  flies  with  greatest  speed  ". 

Assyrian  slings.  Theobald  refers  us  to  Judith,  ix.  7,  "  The 
Assyrians  are  multiplied  in  their  power :... they  trust  to  shield  and 
spear  and  bow  and  sling". 

57.  In  line  8,  Gower  said  that  the  king's  order  given  in  sc.  6.  I.  7 
was  already  carried  out,  and   Holinshed  states  distinctly  that  the 
present  incident  took  place  "when  this  lamentable  slaughter  was 
ended  ".    Shakespeare  would  seem  to  have  overlooked  this  statement 
and  the  words  he  had  put  into  the  mouth  of  Gower,  when  he  now  makes 
Henry  threaten  to  kill  ' '  those  we  have ",  as  well  as  ' '  those  that 
we  shall  take".     It  will  be  seen  that  the  words  attributed  to  him  by 
Holinshed  on  this  occasion  are,  read  by  themselves,  ambiguous : 
"Some  write,  that  the  king  percieuing  his  enimies  in  one  part  to 
assemble  togither,  as  though  they  meant  to  give  a  new  battell  for 
preseruation  of  the  prisoners,  sent  to  them  an  herald,  commanding 
them  either  to  depart  out  of  his  sight,  or  else  to  come  forward  at  once 
and  giue  battell :  promising  herewith,  that  if  they  did  offer  to  fight 
againe,  not  onelie  those  prisoners  which  his  people  alreadie  had  taken; 
but  also  so  many  of  them  as  in  this  new  conflict  which  they  thus 
attempted,  should  fall  into  his  hands,  should  die  the  death  without 
redemption  ".     It  would  seem,  as  Malone  points  out,  that  as  a  matter 
of  history,  the  more  important  of  the  French  prisoners  had  been 
spared  on  the  first  occasion,  but  I  hardly  believe  Shakespeare  had 
this  in  mind  in  this  passage. 

60.  Holinshed  says:  "In  the  morning"  (not  as  Shakespeare  re- 
presents, on  the  day  of  the  battle)  "Montioie  king  at  armes  and 
foure  other  French  heralds  came  to  the  K.  to  know  the  number  of 
prisoners,  and  to  desire  buriall  for  the  dead.  Before  he  made  them 
answer  (to  vnderstand  what  they  would  saie)  he  demanded  of  them 
whie  they  made  to  him  that  request,  considering  that  he  knew  not 
whether  the  victorie  was  his  or  theirs?  When  Montioie  by  true  and 
just  confession  had  cleered  that  doubt  to  the  high  praise  of  the  king, 
he  desired  of  Montioie  to  vnderstand  the  name  of  the  castell  neere 
adioining ;  when  they  had  told  him  that  it  was  called  Agincourt,  he 
said,  '  Then  shall  this  conflict  be  called  the  battell  of  Agincourt'." 

63.  fined,  staked,  agreed  to  pay  as  a  fine.    See  iv.  3.  91,  122,  &c. 

67.  book,  to  register.  Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  iv.  3.  50,  "let  it  be 
booked  with  the  rest  of  this  day's  deeds".  Some  editors  read  look, 
which  is  found  as  a  transitive  verb  in  Shakespeare.  This  would 
agree  with  Holinshed's  statement  that  the  French  "busilie  sought 
through  the  field  for  such  as  were  slaine  ". 

69.  woe  the  while!  alas  the  time!     Cp.  Tempest,  i.  2.  15,  "O 
woe  the  day ! " 

70.  mercenary  blood,  the  blood  of  our  soldiers  who  serve  for 


106  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  IV. 

pay,  'our  vulgar* (next  line).  There  is  no  notion  of '  foreign  soldiers' 
as  in  later  warfare.  In  iv.  8.  82,  'mercenaries'  represents  Holin- 
shed's  words  '  of  the  meaner  sort '. 

73.  Fret,  chafe. 

74.  Yerk,  jerk.     See  Glossary. 

armed,  used  metaphorically,  '  dangerous'. 
79.  a  many.     See  iii.  7.  69,  n. 

peer,  peep  out,  come  to  light,  come  into  sight.    Cp.  Taming 
of  the  Shrew,  iv.  3.  176  — 

"as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  honour  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit ". 

85.  Crispin  Crispianus.     See  iv.  3.  40,  //. 

88,  89.  a  most  prave  pattle.  Fluellen  evidently  means  Cressy, 
but  there  seems  no  authority  of  earlier  date  than  Shakespeare  for 
connecting  the  wearing  of  the  leek  with  anything  that  occurred  in 
that  battle.  For  the  common  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  cus- 
tom see  iv.  I.  54,  n. 

93,  94.  Monmouth  caps.  These  caps,  originally  made  at  Mon- 
mouth,  "where",  says  Fuller  (Worthies of  Walts,  1660,  p.  50),  "the 
Cappers  Chapel  doth  still  remain ",  were  worn  particularly  by 
soldiers.  See  Fairholt,  Costume  in  England  (ed.  1885,  ii.  242), 
where  a  cut  of  a  Monmouth  cap  is  given.  It  appears  as  a  soft  flat 
cap,  with  a  plume,  worn  on  the  side  of  the  head. 

100,  101.  your  majesty's  Welsh  plood.  We  may  remember 
that  Queen  Elizabeth  had  Welsh  blood  in  her  veins  far  more  truly 
than  Henry  V.,  being  descended  from  Owen  Tudor,  a  Welsh  gentle- 
man, who  married  Henry's  widow,  Queen  Katharine. 

102,  103.  and  his  majesty  too.  Fluellen  adds  these  words 
lest  he  should  seem  disrespectful  to  God  by  giving  Him  a  title 
lower  than  that  which  he  had  just  given  to  the  king. 

104.  good  my  countryman.     See  iv.  6.  22,  n. 

in.  On  both  our  parts,  on  both  sides.  In  O.  E.,  in  such  a 
phrase  as  this,  'our'  would  be  ura,  the  gen.  of  'us',  and  'both' 
would  be  made  to  agree  with  it,  '  ura  t>egra\  'of  us  both'.  After 
our  became  a  possessive  adj.,  and  both  ceased  to  be  declined,  both 
was  considered  as  agreeing  with  the  substantive  following. 

114.  gage,  the  pledge  of  a  challenge.     This  was  usually  a  glove. 
Cp.  iv.  I.  199.     See  Glossary. 

115.  withal.     See  i.  I.  81,  n. ;  iii.  5.  2. 
119.  take.     See  iv.  i.  202,  n. 

124.  craven,  coward. 

126.  sort,  rank,  quality.  See  i.  2.  190.  n. ,  and  iv.  8.  68,  and  cp. 
the  expression  in  the  Prayer-book,  '•  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
n.".n  ". 


Scene  8.]  NOTES.  207 

127.  from  the  answer  of  his  degree,  removed  from  (we  should 
say  'above')  answering  the  challenge  of  anyone  in  his  position.     See 
L  2.  272,  «. 

128.  the  devil.     Delius  quotes  King  Leaf,   iii.  4.    148,  "The 
prince  of  darkness  is  a  gentleman".     The  devil's  record  goes  further 
back  in  history  than  that  of  any  noble  family. 

131.  arrant.     See  Glossary. 

131,  132.  Jack-sauce,  an  impudent  fellow.  'Jack -sauce'' occurs, 
in  How  a  Man  may  Choose  a  Good  Wife  from  a  Bad  (1602),  v.  i.  8 
(Old  English  Plays,  ed.  W.  C.  Hazlitt,  1874,  vol.  ix.,  p.  78),  "  Why, 
you  Jacksauce !  you  cuckold !  you  what-not ! " 

134.  sirrah,  sir;  used  towards  inferior  persons,  and  resented  by 
others.  Cp.  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  iv.  2.  13 — 

^Dogberry.   (Your  name,)  sirrah? 
Con.  I  am  a  gentleman,  sir,  and  my  name  is  Conrade  ". 

See  Glossary. 

144,  145.  when  Alencon  and  myself  were  down  together. 
This  is  the  only  reference  to  the  king's  personal  share  in  the  fighting. 
Holinshed  writes:  "The  king  that  daie  shewed  himself  a  valiant 
knight,  albeit  almost  felled  by  the  duke  of  Alauson;  yet  with  plaine 
strength  he  slue  two  of  the  dukes  companie,  and  felled  the  duke 
himselfe  ". 

156.  go  seek  him.  Henry  has  already  sent  Williams  after 
Gower,  line  141.  He  sends  Fluellen  on  the  same  errand  in  order 
that  he  and  Williams  may  meet. 

161.  a  favour,  a  token  of  love  such  as  a  knight  would  receive  from 
his  lady-love  and  wear  in  his  cap  as  a  challenge  to  all  comers.  Cp. 
Richard  II.,  v.  3.  1 8— 

His  answer  was,  he  would... 
...from  the  common'st  creature  pluck  a  glove 
And  wear  it  as  a  favour,  and  with  that 
He  would  unhorse  the  lustiest  challenger  ". 

In  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  ii.  I.  12,  the  spots  or  freckles  on  cow- 
slips are  prettily  called  "fairy  favours". 
169.  touched,  when  touched. 

choler,  anger,  as  in  line  31  above. 

Scene  8. 

3,  4.  toward  you,  intended  for  you. 

8.  'S  blood!  God's  blood  (i.e.,  Christ's  blood),  as  Zoumh— '  God's 
wounds',  &c. 

arrant.     See  Glossary. 


208  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  IV.  Sc.  8. 

13.  into  plows,  in  blows. 

33.  is  pear,  will  bear. 

34.  avouchment,  avow,  acknowledge. 

36.  thy  glove,  the  glove  Williams  is  wearing  in  his  cap,  which 
was  really  the  king's. 

39.  given  me,  addressed  me  in. 
45.  abuse,  insult. 

58.  belly,  the  supposed  seat  of  anger  and  courage.     Cp.  Hamlet, 
i.  I.  loo,  "  Some  enterprise  that  hath  a  stomach  in  "t ". 

59.  keep  you,  keep  yourself. 

60.  prabbles,  brabbles,  broils. 

69.  sort.     See  iv.  7.  126,  n. 

70.  The  whole  of  the  following  passage  down  to  line  100  (except 
line  95),  is  taken  almost  word  for  word  from  Holinshed. 

74.  This  note.  For  this  expression,  which  is  not  in  Holinshed, 
cp.  the  opening  of  a  similar  report  of  the  slain  after  the  battle  of 
Cressy  in  King  Edward  III.,  iii.  $.  (21  from  end) — 

"  Here  is  a  note,  my  gracious  lord,  of  those 
That  in  this  conflict  of  our  foes  were  slain  ". 

76.  banners  were  standards  bearing  the  arms  of  the  kingdom, 
the  corps,  or  its  commander  (Fairholt).  See  iv.  2.  60,  n. 

80.  yesterday.  It  was  customary  to  make  new  knights  on  the  eve 
of  a  battle.  Singer  quotes  from  Lawrence  Minot,  who  celebrated  the 
wars  of  Edward  III.  (Poem  vi.) — 

"  Knightes  war  thar  well  two  score 
That  war  new  dubbed  to  that  dance  ". 

dubb'd  knights,  knighted  by  a  touch  of  the  sword. 
82.  mercenaries.     See  iv.  7.  70,  ». 

93.  Fauconberg  and  Foix.     Ff.,  '  Fauconbridge  and  Foyes'; 
Holinshed,    '  Fauconberge,    Fois '.      The  reading  given  is  due  to 
Capell. 

94.  Lestrale.     So  the  Ff.     Holinshed  has  '  Lestrake '. 

98.  Ketly.  So  the  Ff.  Holinshed  has  « Kikelie '.  Mr.  Wright 
says,  "  Probably  Sir  Richard  de  Kighley  ". 

100.  But  five  and  twenty.  Holinshed  adds  "as  some  doo 
report;  but  other  writers  of  greater  credit  affirme,  that  there  were 
slaine  aboue  fiue  or  six  hundred  persons  ". 

116.  rites,  spelt  in  the  Ff.  'Rights'.  Holinshed  says,  the  king 
about  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  battle  "gathering  his 
armie  togither,  gaue  thanks  to  almightie  God  for  so  happie  a  victorie, 
causing  his  prelats  and  chapleins  to  sing  this  psalme :  ///  exitu  Israel 
de  Aegyptot  and  commanded  euerie  man  to  kneele  downe  on  the 


Act  V.  Prol.]  NOTES.  209 

ground  at  this  verse :  Non  nobis,  Doniine,  non  nobis,  sed  nomini  tuo 
dagloriam.  Which  doone  he  caused  Te  Deum,  with  certeine  anthems 
to  be  soong,  giuing  laude  and  praise  to  God,  without  boasting  of  his 
owne  force  or  anie  humane  power." 

118.  "  Let  the  dead  be  buried  in  all  Christian  charity." 


Act  V.— Prologue. 

Between  the  events  of  act  iv.  and  those  of  act  v.  nearly  five  years 
elapse.  So  before  the  new  act  opens,  '  Chorus '  comes  on  the  stage 
to  perform  his  task  of 

"jumping  o'er  times; 

Turning  the  accomplishment  of  many  years 
Into  an  hour-glass". 

He  presents  the  audience  with  a  vivid  picture  of  the  victorious  king's 
landing  at  Dover  and  his  modest  entry  into  London  amid  the 
welcomes  of  the  citizens.  He  is  thus  led  to  allude  to  the  expectation, 
entertained  by  the  audience  at  the  moment,  of  the  speedy  and  victori- 
ous return  of  Lord  Essex  from  Ireland,  an  expectation  so  short-lived 
that  it  fixes  the  date  of  the  play.  '  Chorus '  ends  by  referring  to  the 
stay  Henry  made  in  England  (i6th  Nov.  1415 — 1st  Aug.  1417),  the 
visit  of  the  Emperor  Sigismund  (ist  May,  1416),  and  Henry's  return 
to  France  (ist  Aug.  1417).  He  does  not  treat  of  anything  further, 
but  it  will  be  seen  that  the  historical  events  of  act  v.  occurred  in  1420. 
See  Appendix  I.,  "  List  of  Historical  Dates". 

1.  The  first  line  is  addressed  to  the  more  instructed  part  of  the 
audience. 

2.  of  such,  &c.     Probably  a  confusion  of  two  const.ructions:  (i), 
'of  such  as  have,  I  beg  that  they  will  admit',  &c. ;  (2), 'for  such  as 
have,  I  pray  them',  &c.     With  regard  to  (i),  it  is  not  clear  that 
Shakespeare  ever  uses  the  construction,  '  I  pray  0/"such',  although  he 
would  say  '  I  beg  of  such'.     With  (2),  cp.  Tempest,  i.  2.  232— 

"  for  the  rest  o'  the  fleet, 
...they  all  have  met  again". 

3.  4.  to  admit  the  excuse  of,  to  dispense  with  (or  excuse)  the 
representation  of. ... 

5.  in  their  huge  and  proper  life,  on  that  huge  scale  which 
rightly  belongs  to  them. 

6.  The  line  appears  too  short,  and  has  been  variously  altered  by 
editors.    Ff.  2  and  3  have  "  and  there  being  scene",  which  can  hardly 
be   what    Shakespeare  wrote.      Perhaps   he   meant   us   merely  to 
pronounce  there  twice  over  as  a  dissyllable.    See  Appendix,  II.  §  4. 

IM178)  O 


210  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

10.   The  Ff.  insert  a  semicolon  arteryftW. 

Pales  in,  walls  in,  hems  in.  Cp.  Cymbeline,  iii.  l  19,  where 
it  is  the  sea  which  '  pales  in'  the  land — 

"  your  isle,  which  stands 
As  Neptune's  park,  ribbed,  and  paled  in 
With  rocks  unscaleable  and  roaring  waters", 
wives,  women. 
12.  whiffler,  clearer  of  his  way.     See  Glossary. 

17.  Where  that.  Cp.  while  that,  \.  2.  46;  why  that,  \.  2.  34; 
lest  that,  ii.  4.  14,  141;  but  that,  i.  I.  26. 

17,  18.  to  have  borne  His... helmet,  to  have  his  helmet  borne. 
Cp.  Winter's  Tale,  v.  I.  36— 

"  the  gods 
Will  have  fulfilled  their  secret  purposes". 

19.  he  forbids  it.  Holinshed  writes:  "  he  would  not  suler  his 
helmet  to  be  caried  with  him,  whereby  might  have  appeared  to  the 
people  the  blowes  and  dints  that  were  to  l>e  seene  in  the  same; 
neither  would  he  suffer  any  ditties  to  l>e  made  and  soong  by  minstrels 
of  his  glorious  victorie,  for  that  he  would  wholie  haue  the  praise  and 
thanks  altogither  giuen  to  God". 

21.  trophy,  signal  and  ostent,  "all  the  honours  of  conquest, 
all  trophies,   tokens,  and  shows"  (Johnson).      Holinshed  says,  he 
"  seemed  little  to  regard  such  vaine  pompe  and  shewes  as  were  in 
triumphant  sort  deuised  for  his  welcomming  home". 

22.  from,  away  from.     See  i.  2.  272,  note. 

25.  The  mayor,  &c.  Holinshed  says:  "  The  maior  of  London, 
and  the  aldermen,  apparelled  in  orient  grain  scarlet,  and  four 
hundred  commoners  clad  in  beautiful  murrie,  well  mounted  and 
trimlie  horssed,  with  rich  collars,  &  great  chaines,  met  the  king  on 
Blackheath,  rejoising  at  his  returne". 

in  best  sort,  in  best  manner  or  style. 

23.  Ff.  insert  "by"  after  but. 

by,  on  the  coming  of;  as  we  say,  "  I  shall  have  done  it  by  the 
evening". 

likelihood,  probability,  here  stands  for  'a  probable  event'. 
Essex  being  a  sub|ect,  Shakespeare  would  be  bound  to  represent  his 
triumph  as  lower  than  that  of  the  famous  king,  but  he  says  it  was 
looked  forward  to  with  love.  Loving  properly  describes  not  the 
event,  but  those  who  anticipated  it. 

30.  the  general.  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex,  left  London 
on  March  27,  1599,  amid  a  great  demonstration  ot  popularity,  to 
suppress  Tyrone's  rebellion.  He  returned  unsuccessful  on  Sep.  28. 
See  Introduction,  Literary  History  of  the  Play,  §  I. 


Scene  i.]  NOTES.  ill 

30.  empress,  applied  to  Queen  Elizabeth  also  by  Spenser  in  his 
dedication  of  the  Faerie  Queen.  See  iv.  i.  245,  n.  (end). 

32.  broached,  spitted.  From  Fr.  broche,  a  spit.  Cp.  Titus 
Andronicus,  iv.  2.  85 — 

"  I  '11  broach  the  tadpole  on  my  rapier's  point". 

34.  much  more  cause,  (there  was)  much  more  cause.  We  use 
the  same  ellipsis  when  we  say,  'He  was  much  pleased  and'  (it 
was)  'no  wonder'.  It  is  contrary  to  English  idiom  to  explain  our 
passage  by  the  omission  of  with. 

36.  The  French  have  no  thought  as  yet  beyond  lamenting  theii 
defeat,  so  Henry  has  no  cause  to  leave  England. 

38.  The  emperor  's,  the  emperor  is.  The  passage  is  perhaps 
corrupt.  The  Emperor  Sigismund  arrived  on  May  I,  1416. 

43.  remembering,  reminding.     Cp.  Tempest,  i.  2.  243 — 

"  Let  me  remember  me  what  thou  hast  promised". 

44.  brook  abridgement,  put  up  with  this  curtailing  of  events. 

Scene  I. 

The  scene  keeps  up  the  balance  of  comic  and  serious  in  giving  us 
a  last  sight  of  Fluellen,  Gower,  and  Pistol,  who  have  once  more 
followed  the  king  to  France.  An  insult  offered  by  Pistol  to  Fluellen 's 
national  pride  causes  the  former  to  be  beaten  and  humiliated  by 
Fluellen  and  lectured  by  Gower.  With  Falstaff  and  Mrs.  Quickly 
dead,  Nym  and  Bardolph  hanged,  and  Pistol  humiliated,  while 
Gower  and  Fluellen  live  on  as  good  soldiers,  enjoying  the  respect  of 
each  other  and  of  the  king,  the  requirements  of  'poetic  justice',  so 
far  as  relates  to  the  subordinate  characters  of  the  play,  have  been  well 
satisfied.  The  poet  now  dismisses  them  for  ever.  Johnson  adds : 
"  I  believe  every  reader  regrets  their  departure". 

5.  scauld,  scabby.     See  Glossary. 

8.  yesterday,  probably  this  had  been  St.  David's  Day.  Cp.  1.  2, 
and  iv.  I.  55,  and  iv.  7.  96. 

17.  art  thou  Bedlam?  art  thou  mad?     Cp.  King  John,  ii.  I. 
183,    "  Bedlam,  have  done".     The  word  was  properly  the  name  of 
a  hospital  for  lunatics  in  London,  being  corrupted  from  'Bethlehem'. 

Trojan,  a  cant  or  slang  term  for  a  person  of  doubtful  character. 

18.  fold  up  Parca's  fatal  web,  the  web  of  life  or  fate  spun  by 
the  Parca,  the  goddess  of  destiny.     Pistol  means,  Do  you  desire  me 
to  kill  you? 

19.  I  am  qualmish,  I  feel  sick. 

25.  Cadwallader.  Cadwallader,  the  last  British  king,  defended 
Wales  against  the  Saxons  in  the  middle  of  the  seventh  century.  In 
after  times  he  was  called  the  'Blessed',  and  was  wrongly  believed 


312  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

to  have  died  at  Rome.    He  is  the  subject  of  a  poem  in  Blenerhasset's 
Mirror  for  Magistrates,  Ft.  2  (1578). 

25.  goats,  also  associated  with  Wales,  /  Henry  IV.,  iii.  i.  39. 

33.  a  squire  of  low  degree,  the  title  of  a  well-known  ballad. 
Fluellen  means  that  he  will  bring  him  to  the  ground. 

35.  astonished,  struck  terror  into  him. 

38.   green,  fresh,  raw. 

coxcomb,  head.     See  Glossary. 

42,  43.  The  'Globe'  Shakespeare,  strange  to  say,  gives  this 
speech  of  Pistol  as  prose.  He  invariably  speaks  in  mock-heroic 
verse.  I  have  punctuated  the  line  in  the  way  which  seems  to  me  to 
yield  the  best  sense.  Cp.  1.  54. 

47.  do  you,  (may  it)  do  you.     Cp.  iv.  3.  126,  note. 

52.  a  groat,  a  fourpenny  piece.  See  Glossary.  The  fiery 
Fluellen  is  again  quickly  appeased  and  generous  with  his  money. 
Cp.  iv.  8.  58. 

54.   Me  a  groat!     Pistol  professes  to  be  insulted. 

56.  which  you  shall  eat.     From  this  story,   'to  eat  the  leek' 
has  a  proverbial  meaning  — 'to  swallow  an  insult'. 

57.  earnest.     Cp.  ii.  2.  169,  note. 

60.  God  bye  you  (Ff.  God  bu'y  you).     See  iv.  3.  6,  note. 

63.  begun,  Ff.  'began'. 

64.  respect,  consideration,  reason,  as  in  Hamlet,  iii.  I.  68 — 

"  There 's  the  respect 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life". 

64.  65.  predeceased  valour.     See  iv.  7.  88,  note. 

65.  avouch,  support,  defend. 

66.  gleeking,  jeering.     Cp.   Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  iii.   I. 
150,  "I  can  gleek  upon  occasion".     The  derivation  is  doubtful. 

galling,  jibing,  saying  galling  things.     Cp.  i.  2.  151. 
68.   garb,  manner,  fashion  (its  only  sense  in  Shakespeare). 
70.   condition,  disposition.     Cp.  v.  2.   272,  and  Richard  III., 
iv.  4.  157— 

"  Madam,  I  have  a  touch  of  your  condition 
Which  cannot  bear  the  accent  of  reproof  ". 

72.  huswife,  hussy,  jilt.     So  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  iv.  15. 
44 — "the  false  housewife  Fortune". 

73.  Doll  (Ff.  and  Qq.).    Corrected  by  Capell  to  '  Nell'.     See  ii.  I. 
16,  28.     The  change  has  been  adopted  by  most  editors  since.     But 
Dr.  Nicholson's  defence  of  '  Doll'  seems  to  me  sound.      '  Doll'  was 
a  term  of  endearment,  applied  in  particular  to  women  of  indifferent 
character,  and  we  can  well  imagine  the  base  Pistol  applying  it  on 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  213 

this  occasion  to  his  dead  wife.     It  may  be  noticed  that  it  gives  him 
the  opportunity  for  an  alliteration. 

73.  spital.     See  Glossary 

75.  rendezvous.     Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  iv.  i.  57 — 
"A  rendezvous,  a  home  to  fly  unto". 

78.  "And  have  some  leaning  to  the  trade  of  a  deft  cut-purse". 

Scene  2. 

The  final  scene  of  the  play  represents  the  meeting  of  Henry  with 
the  French  court  at  Troyes  in  May,  1420,  when  a  treaty  was  ratified 
which  gave  him  the  Princess  Katharine  in  marriage.  The  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  who  plays  the  part  of  peace-maker,  is  Philip,  son  of  the 
duke  who  had  been  treacherously  murdered  at  Montereau  on  July 
II,  1419.  After  Burgundy's  speech,  in  which  he  pleads  the  need 
for  peace,  a  conference  is  held  between  the  French  royalties  and 
Henry's  commissioners,  during  which  Henry  himself  is  left  alone 
with  the  Princess  Katharine.  In  making  his  love-suit  to  her,  he 
shows  a  soldier's  blunt  gallantry  and  glimpses  of  true  feeling  below 
it,  but  he  indulges  neither  in  imagination  nor  vehement  passion,  and 
speaks  in  prose.  On  the  dramatic  significance  of  this,  see  Appendix 
II.,  Prose. 

The  interview  is  ended  by  the  return  of  the  French  court  and  the 
English  lords  after  a  conference  in  which  an  agreement  has  been  all 
but  arrived  at.  The  last  point  of  difference  is  now  removed,  peace 
is  made,  and  with  the  formal  betrothal  of  Henry  and  Katharine  the 
play  ends. 

Stage-direction.  A  royal  palace.  According  to  Holinshed 
Henry  did  not  arrive  at  Troyes  till  the  agreement  had  been 
made  between  the  French  court  and  his  ambassadors,  Exeter, 
Salisbury,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  Lord  Fanhope,  Lord  Fitz  Hugh,  Sir 
John  Robsert,  and  Sir  Philip  Hall,  "withdiuerse  doctors".  They 
had  been  escorted  to  Troyes  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  on  March  1 1, 
1420.  When  Henry  arrived  he  found  the  French  king  and  queen 
and  the  Princess  Katharine  in  St.  Peter's  Church  "where  was  a 
verie  ioious  meeting  betwixt  them  (and  this  was  on  the  twentith 
daie  of  Maie),  and  there  the  king  of  England,  and  the  ladie  Katha- 
rine were  affianced.  After  this,  the  two  kings  and  their  councell 
assembled  togither  diuerse  daies,  wherein  the  first  concluded  agree- 
ment was  in  diuerse  points  altered  and  brought  to  a  certeinetie.  ' 

In  Shakespeare  the  scene,  as  Malone  saw,  is  clearly  not  the  church, 
but  a  palace. 

I.  Paraphrased  by  Johnson,  "  Peace,  for  which  we  are  here  met, 
be  to  this  meeting  ". 

3.  fair  time  of  day.     Cp.  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  2.  339— 
"All  hail,  sweet  madam,  and  fair  time  of  day  1" 


314  KING    HENRY   THK    FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

7.   Burgundy.     Ff.  "Burgogne"  (with  slight  variations),  Qq. 
14  Hurgondie".  • 

12.  England.     F.  i  (curiously)  "  Ireland",  the  rest  "England". 

1 6.  bent,  direction  or  glance.     See  Glossary. 

17.  balls,  in  the  double  sense  of  'eyeballs'  and  'cannon-balls', 
basilisks,  large  cannon.     See  Glossary. 

19.  have,  is  made  to  agree  with  the  nearer  word  "looks"  instead 
of  its  true  subject,  "venom".     Such  cases  are  frequent  in  Shake 
speare.     Cp.  Julius  Cttsar,  v.   I.  33 — 

"The  posture  of  your  blows  are  yet  unknown", 
quality,  power,  efficacy.     Cp.  King  John,  v.  7.  8 — 

"the  burning  quality 
Of  that  fell  poison  ". 

and  that,  depends  on  "hope",  which  is  virtually,  though  not 
grammatically,  the  main  verb  of  the  preceding  clause. 

20.  griefs,  grievances. 

23.   on  equal  love.      On  expresses  the  ground  or  basis  on  which 
the  action  is  performed.     Cp.  Richard  ///. ,  iv.  I.  4 — 

"  On  pure  heart's  love  to  greet  the  tender  princes". 

27.  bar.    Perhaps  used  as 'a  place  for  the  settlement  of  differences'. 
It  was,  however,  common  at  royal  interviews  for  the  two  parties  to 
be  divided  by  an  actual  bar  or  railing. 

28.  mightiness,   mightinesses.       Where  a   word  ends   in  an  s 
sound,  it  is  often  written  (and  still  more  often   pronounced)  in  the 
plural  and   in  the  poss.  case  sing,   without  an  additional  syllable. 
Cp.  i.  2.  36,  "highness".     So  "princess"  is  plur.  in  Temfxst,  \.  2. 
173,  and  "carcasses"  is  pronounced  "carcass     in  Coriolamis,  iii.  3. 
122.     Cp.  '  for  conscience  sake '. 

29.  my  office,  />.  as  mediator. 

31.   congreeted,  greeted  one  another.     The  word  was  probably 
coined  by  Shakespeare.     Cp.  i.  2.  182. 

33.  rub.     See  ii.  2.  188,  n. 

34.  Why  that.     Cp.  v.  P.  17,  n. 
37.  put  up,  lift. 

39.  on  heaps.     See  iv.  5.  18,  n. 

40.  it.     See  Glossary. 

41.  Cp.  Psalm  civ.  15. 

42.  even-pleach'd,   (once)  evenly  interwoven.      See  Glossary, 
pleacKd. 

43.  Like  prisoners.     The  hedges  from  being  closely  kept  in  are 
compared  to  prisoners;  and  when  they  "put  forth  disordered  twigs'' 
they  are  like  prisoners  who  have  let  their  hair  grpw  long  and  shaggy. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  215 

44.  leas.     See  Glossary. 

46.  Doth,  sing. :  as  agreeing  with  the  last,  or  because  the  three 
words  form  only  one  notion. 

while  that.     Cp.  v.  P.  17,  n. 
coulter,  ploughshare. 

47.  deracinate,  uproot 
savagery,  wild  growth. 

48.  erst,  first,  formerly.     See  Glossary. 

51.  Conceives  by  idleness,  produces  a  crop  of  its  own  from 
being  left  idle. 

nothing  teems,  brings  forth  nothing.  Cp.  Macbeth,  iv.  3.  176, 
"Each  minute  teems  a  new  one"  (grief). 

52.  kecksies,  hemlocks.     See  Glossary. 

54.  as.  Ff.  have  "all"  and  put  a  full  stop  after  "wildness". 
The  present  reading  is  due  to  Capell. 

61.  defused,  disordered.  Ff.  I  and  2  have  "defused",  the  rest 
"diffused  ",  which  is  found  in  the  same  sense  in  Merry  Wives,  iv.  4.  54. 
"Defuse"  occurs  in  Richard  111.,  i.  2.  78,  and  Lear,  i.  4.  2,  and 
in  other  authors. 

63.  '  It  is  in  order  to  bring  back  these  things  to  our  former 
appearance  that  you  are  assembled.' 

For  reduce,  cp.  Richard  III.,  ii.  2.  68,  "reduce  these  bloody 
days  again  ". 

For  favour,  cp.    Measure  for  Measure,   iv.    2.    34,   ' '  a   good 
favour  you  have,  but  that  you  have  a  hanging  look  ". 

65.  let,  hindrance. 

68.  would,  desire.     Cp.  iv.  I.  32. 

72.  '  Whose  general  purport  as  well  as  their  particular  applications 
you  have  in  your  hands,  briefly  written  out  for  you.' 

tenours  (spelt  in  the  Ff.   'tenures'),  from  M.  E.  tenonr,  Lat. 
tenorem,  course,  direction. 

73.  enscheduled,  stated  on  a  schedule  or  scroll. 

77.  cursorary.     This  is  the  reading  of  Q.  3,  adopted  by  Pope. 
F.  i  has  " curselarie ",  the  rest  "curselary".     Q.  I  and  Q.  2  "cur- 
senary  ". 

78.  pleaseth,  if  it  pleaseth  (where  one  might  expect  the  subjunctive 
'if  it  please').     Cp.  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  I.  12 — 

"  Pleaseth  you  walk  with  me  down  to  his  house, 
I  will  discharge  my  bond  ". 

79.  presently,  now,  without  delay.     Cp.  iii.  2.  49,  «. 

81.  suddenly,  quickly,  soon.  Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  iii.  3.  5,  "111 
repent  and  that  suddenly  ". 


ai6  KING   HENRY  THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

82.  I  incline  to  think  that  the  line  is  genuine  and  to  agree  with 
Mr.  Wright  in  taking  accept  as  a  part,  and  not  as  a  subs.  I  inter- 
pret the  line,  '  Return  that  positive  answer  which  shall  have  found 
favour  with  us '  (been  accepted  by  us). 

For  pass,  cp.  Titus  and  Andronicus,  i.  I.  468 — 

"  I  have  pass'd 
My  word  and  promise  to  the  emperor"; 

and  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  iv.  2.  117 — 

' '  To  pass  assurance  of  a  dower  in  marriage  ". 

Accept  as  a  past  part,  does  not  occur  elsewhere  in  Shakespeare, 
but  we  find  as  past  participles  '  contract ',  '  deject ',  '  exhaust ',  £c. 
However  in  Tindale's  trans,  of  St.  Luke,  i.  75  (1526)  we  read,  "  In 
suche  holynes  and  ryghtewesnes  that  are  accept  before  him  ".  For 
the  sense  of  accept,  cp.  i.  I.  83.  For  the  coupling  together  of  a  part, 
and  an  adj.  Mr.  Wright  compares  ii.  4.  13.  Some  editors  take 
accept  as  a  subs.,  others  read  "  Pass  or  accept ",  "  Pass  or  except ", 
"  Pass  our  exact ",  &c. 

88.  advantageable,  only  found  here  in  Shakespeare.  Advan- 
tageous occurs  twice. 

90.   consign,  to  sign  with  others,  to  agree.     Cp.  1.  283. 

93.  Haply.     F  i.  "happily",  Ft  2,  3  "happely  ",  F.  4  "haply". 

94.  'When  conditions  are  pressed  too  minutely  and  insisted  upon.' 
Cp.  iii.  6.  70,  and  j  Henry  VI.,  iv.  7.  58,  "  wherefore  stand  you  on 
nice  points?"     For  nicely,  see  Glossary. 

96.  capital,  chief,  main. 

97.  fore-rank,  foremost. 

120.  dat  is  de  princess.  Alice  seems  to  mean  'this  is  what  the 
princess  says'. 

126,  mince  it.     It  is  often  thus  used  in  Shakespeare  to  express 
an  indefinite  object,  such  as  '  things'.     Cp.  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  4. 
66,  "revel  and  feast  it  at  my  house".     We  say  fight  it  out,  go  it, 
where  '  it '  expresses  the  contest  in  question. 

127,  128.  wear  out  my  suit.     A  pun. 

128,  129.   clap  hands,  let  us  join  hands. 

132.  undid,  would  undo.     Cp.  Merchant  of  Venice,  ii.  I.  17 — 

"  But  if  my  father  had  not  scanted  me, 

Yourself,  renowned  prince,  then  stood  (  =  would  have  stood)  as 
fair". 

Undid  and  stood  are  relics  of  the  O.E.  past  subj. ,  which  in  M.  E. 
became  identical  in  form  (except  in  the  2nd  pers.  sing. )  with  the  past 
ind. 

133.  measure  is  used  in  these  lines,  first  =  ' metre ',  secondly  = 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  217 

'dance',  thirdly  =  ' amount '.     For  the  second  meaning,  cp.  All^s 
Well,  ii.  i.  58,  "  though  the  devil  lead  the  measure". 

135.  vaulting,  F.  I,  2,  'vawting',  which  represents  the  pro- 
nunciation of  the  time.  Henry's  performance  of  this  feat  is  described 
in  /  Henry  IV.,  iv.  I.  104,  "  I  saw  young  Harry  ",  &c. 

138.  buffet,  box.    Cp.  King  John,  ii.  i.  465,  "buffets  better  than 
a  fist  of  France  ". 

bound  my  horse,  make  my  horse  bound  or  caracole. 

139.  140.  jack-an-apes,  an  ape.     According  to  Skeat  the  word 
was  originally  'Jack  o'  apes '  (cp.  Jack  o1  Lantern).     Then  an  n  crept 
in  between  the  two  vowels. 

140.  greenly,  foolishly,  sheepishly.     Cp.  ii.  4.  136. 

141.  nor  I  have  no,  instead  of  '  nor  have  I  any '.     Cp.  1.  322 
below. 

144.  not  worth  sun-burning,  already  as  brown  as  it  can  be. 

146.  let  thine  eye  be  thy  cook,  let  thine  eye  give  me  attractions 
which  I  do  not  naturally  possess. 

I  speak  to  thee  plain  soldier.  Plain  soldier  (in  the  obj. 
case)  gives  the  character  of  his  conversation.  Cp.  King  John,  ii.  I. 
462,  "He  speaks  plain  cannon-fire",  and  Othello,  ii.  3.  281,  "Drunk? 
and  speak  parrot?" 

149.  while  thou  livest.     The  phrase,  originally  meaning  '  Life 
is  short,  do  what  I  wish  quickly ',  comes  to  be  a  mere  adjuration. 
Cp.  Tempest,  iii.  2.  120  (quoted  by  Mr.  Wright),  "But,  while  thou 
livest,  keep  a  good  tongue  in  thy  head". 

150.  uncoined,   like  metal  that  has  never  been  moulded  and 
stamped. 

152,153.  rhyme. ..reason.  Shakespeare  frequently  plays  on  the 
proverbial  expression,  '  neither  rhyme  nor  reason '. 

154.   What!  why!  after  all... 

161.  and  take  me,  take  a  soldier.  Instead  of  saying  '  and 
when  you  take  me,  you  will  take  a  soldier  ',  or  more  simply,  '  and  I 
am  a  soldier',  Shakespeare  implies  this  identity  by  putting  the  two 
imperative  clauses  side  by  side.  If  A  says  to  B,  '  I  hate  a  liar,  and 
I  hate  you',  it  is  quite  clear  what  he  implies.  In  the  second  case 
here  the  implied  statement  is  '  and  the  soldier  is  a  king '. 

166.  you  should  love,  where  we  should  say  '  you  -would  love '. 
Cp.  i.  P.  5,  and  Merchant  of  Venice,  i.  2.  100,  "you  should  refuse  to 
perform  your  father's  will,  if  you  should  refuse  to  accept  him  ".  Cp. 
also  i.  2.  141,  note. 

174.  shook.     Cp.  i.  2.  154,  note. 

176.   Saint  Denis,  the  patron-saint  of  France. 

184.  truly -falsely,  as  Mr.  Deighton  says,  "with  good  faith  but 
with  bad  idiom  ", 


218  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

185.  at  one,  alike.  From  this  phrase  was  formed  the  verb  '  to 
atone"  ('make  at  one').  In  this  verb  'one'  is  pronounced  nearly  as 
it  wa.s  in  M.E.,  without  an  initial  '  w '. 

194.  cruelly,  extremely.    The  word  is  chosen  to  make  a  contrast 
to  'mercifully'. 

If  ever  thou  beest.  In  O.E.  the  termination  -st  of  the  2nd 
pers.  sing,  was  found  only  in  the  indie.  The  true  form  of  the 
2ml  pers.  sing.  pres.  subj.  is  '  thou  be '  (O.E.  "Sa  M>).  But  when  the 
verb  be  was  ceasing  to  be  used  in  the  indie.,  even  the  pro|>erly  indie, 
form  beest  passed  over  into  the  subj. 

195.  a  saving  faith,  an  expression  taken  from  theology,  where  it 
means  '  faith  sufficient  unto  salvation'. 

196.  scambling,  scrambling.     See  i.  I.  4. 

197.  between,  by  the  help  of  one  or  both.     Cp.  .4s  You  Lite  //, 
Epil.  17,  "that  between  you  and  the  women  the  play  may  please". 

199.  the  Turk.      As  Theobald  pointed  out,  the  Turks  did  not 
obtain    Constantinople    till    1453,    thirty-one    years    after    Henry's 
death. 

200,  aoi.  flower-de-luce,  fleur-de-lys  or  lily,  the  emblem  o* 
France. 

204.  endeavour,  do  your  best. 

205.  moiety,  half. 

210.  mine.     See  ii.  i.  6,  note. 

214.  untempering,   without  power  to  soften  or  melt  a  lady's 
fieart.     Cp.  ii.  2.  118. 

beshrew,  used  jokingly  as  an  imprecation,  'a  curse  upon'.  See 
Glossary. 

215.  when  he  got  me.     Henry  V.  was  born  9th  August,  1387. 
At  this  time  his  father,  then  Earl  of  Derby,  was  in  bitter  opposition 
to  Richard  II.,  and  in  Feb.  1388,  was  one  of  the  'Appellants' who 
impeached  Richard's  advisers  and  the  judges  who  had  supported  the 
king  against  the  appointment  of  a  Commission  (in  1386)  to  regulate 
the  royal  household. 

217.  that,  so  that. 

fright,  frighten,  which  form  is  not  used  by  Shakespeare. 

218.  elder,  in  Mod.  Eng.  only  used  in  comparing  two  persons. 

219.  ill  layer  up,   ill-preserver.      Cp.  2  Ifenn>  IV.,   v.    i.  95, 
"you  shall  see  him  laugh  till  his  face  be  like  a  wet  cloak  ill  laid  up" 
(i.e.  in  wrinkles). 

221.  wear  me,  an  allusion  to  the  use  of  the  word  in  regard  to 
clothes,  as  well  as  to  the  proverb  'win  me  and  wear  me'  (A/ucA  Ado, 
v.  i.  82),  where  "wear  me"  meant  originally  'enjoy  me'. 

227.  withal.     See  i.  I.  81,  note. 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  219 

229.  fellow  with,  a  match  for. 

231.  broken  music.  A  technical  expression  alluded  to  also  in 
Troilus,  ii.  I.  52;  As  You  Like  It,  i,  2.  150.  For  the  explanation 
which  follows  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Sir  John  Stainer. 

"I  think  it  is  clear  that  the  term  'broken  music'  has  been  used 
in  two  senses:  first,  as  signifying  music  played  on  lutes  and  other 
string  instruments,  the  sounds  of  which,  when  chords  are  played,  are 
rarely  simultaneous. 

The  second  meaning,  which  probably  greiv  out  of  the  first,  is 
practically  equal  to  our  word  'part-music',  but  applied  to  instru- 
mental, not  to  vocal  music. 

The  quotation  given  in  the  Encyclopedic  Diet,  from  Bacon  (ed. 
1765,  vol.  I.)  leaves  no  doubt  on  this  point. 

'  And  so,  likewise,  in  that  music  which  we  call  broken-music  or 
consort  music,  some  consorts  of  instruments  are  sweeter  than  others, 
a  thing  not  sufficiently  yet  observed.' 

In  reference  to  the  first  of  these  two  meanings,  it  is  interesting 
to  note  that  an  'arpeggio'  or  harp-chord,  the  sounds  of  which  are 
heard  in  very  rapid  succession,  and  not  absolutely  simultaneously,  is 
still  called  a  broken  chord.  The  same  expression  is  in  regular  use 
now  in  Counterpoint  to  describe  a  succession  of  sounds  (however  slow), 
which  together  would  form  a  chord,  as  opposed  to  a  succession  of 
consecutive  steps  of  the  scale,  or  any  succession  of  sounds  which 
together  would  not  form  a  chord. 

The  two  meanings  are  not  at  all  contradictory,  indeed  they  rather 
illustrate  each  other. 

In  the  passage  of  Shakespeare  to  which  you  refer,  I  should  say 
the  expression  was  not  intended  to  convey  definitely  either  one  or  the 
other  of  the  two  meanings  I  have  given.  Unless  Shakespeare 
intended  to  suggest  that  her  faltering  speech  reminded  Henry  of  the 
slight  delay  in  revealing  a  full  chord  when  played  on  a  lute  or  harp. 
A  pretty  notion,  but  rather  far-fetched,  I  fear. 

I  think  the  explanations  given  by  Chappell,  and  quoted  by  Mr. 
Aldis  Wright,  are  quite  wide  of  the  mark." 

233.  break  thy  mind,  open  thy  mind.  Cp.  i  Henry  VI. ,  i.  3. 
81,  "we  shall  meet  and  break  our  minds  at  large". 

256.  nice,  scrupulous,  as  in  1.  260.     See  Glossary, 
curtsy  to,  bow  before,  give  way  to. 

257.  list,  barrier.     Cp.  i  Henry  IV.,  iv.  r.  51,  "the  very  list,  the 
very  utmost  bound  of  all  our  fortunes ".     The  plural  '  lists '  was 
used  for  the  enclosed  space  within  which  a  tournament  was  held. 

259.  follows  our  places,  attends  our  position. 

264.  should.     Cp.  i.  2.  241,  note. 

271.  apt,  quick  to  learn. 

272.  condition,  disposition.     Cp.  v.  I.  70,  note. 


220  KING    HENRY   THE    FIFTH.  [Act  V. 

277,  278.  make  a  circle.  Cp.  Sir  T.  More,  Dialogue  concerning 
Heresies  /.,  "  Negromancers  put  their  trust  in  their  cercles,  within 
which  they  thinke  them  self  sure  against  all  y*  devils  in  hel ". 

283.  consign  to,  agree  to.     Cp.  1.  90  above. 

284.  wink,  shut  their  eyes.     See  Glossary. 

292.  Bartholomew-tide.  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  is  August  24, 
and  therefore  at  the  '  latter  end '  of  summer. 

295.   This  moral,  the  moral  to  be  drawn  from  the  comparison. 

302.  perspectively,  as  in  a  '  perspective '.  A  '  perspective '  is  a 
picture  such  as  those  desert  bed  in  Plot's  Natural  History  of  Stafford- 
shire (quoted  by  Staunton) :  "At  the  right  Honorable  the  Lord 
Gerards  at  Gerards  Bromley,  there  are  the  pictures  of  Henry  the 
great  of  France  and  his  Queen,  both  upon  the  same  indented  board, 
which,  if  beheld  directly,  you  only  perceive  a  confused  piece  of 
work ;  but  if  obliquely,  of  one  side  you  see  the  king's,  and  on  the 
other  the  queen's  picture".  Cf.  Twelfth  Night,  v.  I.  224 — 

"One  face,  one  voice,  one  habit  and  two  persons, 
A  natural  perspective  that  is  and  is  not !  ' 

Cp.  also  Richard  //.,  ii.  2.  1 8. 

304.  never,  added  by  Rowe.     The  Ff.  have  "hath  entred". 

307.  I  am  content,  so  the  maiden  cities,  provided  the  maiden 
cities...     Henry  was  too  much  of  a  statesman  to  demand  Katharine's 
hand  without  such  conditions  (cp.  1.  326).    The  French  king's  answer 
fully  meets  the  point  he  had  raised.     The  'Globe'  text  puts  a  semi- 
colon after  "content"  instead  of  the  comma  given  in  the  Ff.,  and,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  spoils  the  sense.    For  so—  'provided  that',  cp.  Ronuo 
and  Juliet,  iii.  5.  18 — 

"  I  am  content  so  thou  wilt  have  it  so". 

308.  The  sense  seems  to  be  that  though  Katharine  had  stood  in 
the  way  of  his  wish  to  capture  these  cities,  she  will  show  him  the  way 
to  accomplish  his  ijreat  determination  to  be  King  of  France,  of  which 
the  wish  was  but  a  part. 

313.  then,  omitted  by  F.  I. 

314.  '  According  to  the  nature  of  each  as  firmly  propounded  to 
him.' 

317.  for  matter  of  grant,  for  something  to  be  granted  him. 

318.  addition,   designation,   title  of  honour.     Cp.    Cortolanus^ 
L  9.  66 — 

"Call  him... 

Caius  Marcius  Coriolanus!  bear 
The  addition  nobly  ever!" 

320.  Prseclarissimus.  In  writing  prceclarissimus  instead  of 
frcrcarissimus,  which  in  the  original  treaty  is  the  equivalent  of  Ires- 


Scene  2.]  NOTES.  221 

chfr,  Shakespeare  is  following  Holinshed.  "  Also  that  our  said 
lather,  during  his  life,  shall  name,  call,  and  write  vs  in  French  in 
this  maner:  Noire  tres-chier  filz  Henry  roy  cTEnglcterre  heretere  de 
France.  And  in  Latine  in  this  maner :  Praeclarissimus  filius  noster 
Henricus  rex  Angliae  &  hseres  Franciae." 

329,  330.  look  pale  with  envy.  The  poetic  fancy  endows  the 
white  cliffs  of  the  two  countries  with  the  passions  felt  by  the  two 
peoples.  Cp.  i.  P.  21. 

331.  dear  conjunction,   solemn  union.      Dear  means   'deeply 
felt'.     Cp.  ii.  2.  181,  and  Glossary. 

332.  neighbourhood,  neighbourliness.     Cp.  i.  2.  154,  n. 

333.  advance,  see  ii.  2.  192,  «. 

342.  ill  office,  unworthy  dealing  on  the  part  of  one  state  towards 
the  other.  Cp.  Two  Gentlemen,  iii.  2.  38-40 — 

"Duke.  Then  you  must  undertake  to  slander  him... 
Pro.  'T  is  an  ill  office  for  a  gentleman 
Especially  against  his  very  friend." 

344.  Thrust  in  (only  intrans.  in  this  passage),  intrude. 

paction,  compact.     The  reading  is  due  to  Theobald.     Ft 
I,  2  have  '  Pation  '.  Ff.  3,  4,  '  Passion '. 

347.  Amen.     It  seems  to  me  that  Shakespeare  would  not  have 
written  these  warm  pleas  for  a  close  union  between  England  and 
France  unless  they  had  corresponded  to  the  circumstances  of  his  own 
day,  as  he  conceived  them.     The  Prologue  of  this  Act  shows  his 
interest  in  Essex  and  his  confidence  that  this  interest  was  shared  by 
the  audience.     Now  Essex  was,  as  against  Cecil,  the  advocate  of  a 
spirited  policy  directed  against  Spain,  a  policy  which  would  neces- 
sarily depend  for  its  success  on  the  friendship  of  France.     It  is  not 
strange,  therefore,  if  Shakespeare  gladly  seized  the  opportunity  of 
making  the  characters  in  his  play  express  the  political  desires  which 
he  and  his  audience  had  at  heart.     Perhaps,  too,  he  felt  that  some 
amends  were  demanded  for  his  rather  harsh  treatment  of  the  French 
in  the  earlier  part  of  the  play. 

348.  on  which  day,  &c.     Holinshed  writes  (in  continuation  of 
the  passage  quoted  on  the  stage-direction  at  the  beginning  of  this 
act),  "When  this  great  matter  was  finished,  the  kings  sware  for  their 
parts  to  obserue  all  the  couenants  of  this  league  and  agreement. 
Likewise   the  Duke  of  Burgognie  and  a  great   number   of  other 
princes  and  nobles  which  were  present  receiued  an  oth...This  doone, 
the  morow  after  Trinitie  sundaie  being  the  third  of  lune,  the  mariage 
was  solemnized  and  fully  consummate  betwixt  the  king  of  England 
and  the  said  ladie  Katharine." 

352.  Stage-direction.     Sennet.     See  Glossary. 


222  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH.         [Epilogue. 

Epilogue. 

The  Epilogue  is  a  Sonnet  of  the  ordinary  Shakespearian  form,  that 
is,  consisting  of  three  quatrains  with  alternate  rhymes  and  a  final 
couplet 

2.   bending,  i.e.  as  unequal  to  his  task. 

4.  by  starts,  by  his  desultory  treatment.  Cp.  Troilus,  Prologue 
26,  &c.— 

' '  our  play 

Leaps  o'er  the  vaunt  and  firstlings  of  these  broils, 
Beginning  in  the  middle,  starting  thence  away 
To  what  may  be  digested  in  a  play ''. 

7.  the  world's  best  garden.     Cp.  v.  2.  36. 

9.  bands,  swaddling-clothes.  He  was  nine  months  old  when 
Henry  V.  died. 

ii.  the  managing,  contrary  to  our  modern  idiom,  has  a  verbal 
regimen  although  separated  from  its  object. 

13.  Which  oft  our  stage  hath  shown.     The  three  parts  of 
Henry  VI.  and  the  older  plays  on  which  they  were  based  are  here 
alluded  to.     Probably  all  hail  been  acted  by  1593. 

14.  let  this  acceptance  take,  let  this  meet  with  favour. 


APPENDIX   I.   A. 


LIST  OF   HISTORICAL   DATES. 

(Based  on  Sir  J.  Ramsay's  Lancaster  and  York.} 

1387  Aug.  9.  Henry  V.  born  at  Monmouth. 

1399  Sep.  30.  His  father  becomes  king  as  Henry  IV. 

1410  Bill  for  confiscating  church  property. 

1413  Mar.  20.  Accession  of  Henry  V. 

Summer.  English  envoys  claim  from  the  Burgundian  party 
(see  note  on  Dramatis  Persona,  Charles  the  Sixth) 
the  crown  of  France  and  fulfilment  of  the  treaty 
of  Bretigny.  A  truce  signed  to  last  from  Oct.  I, 
1413,  to  June  I,  1414. 

Sep.  9.  Duke  of  York  sent  as  envoy  to  the  Armagnac  party, 
asks  on  behalf  of  the  king  for  the  hand  of 
Princess  Katharine.  The  Archbishop  of  Bourges 
and  the  Constable,  Charles  D'Albert,  are  sent  to 
England,  and  a  truce  is  signed  to  last  from  Jan. 
24,  1414,  to  Feb.  2,  1415.  Henry  makes  the 
same  claims  on  the  Armagnacs  as  on  the  Bur- 
gundians,  being  able  to  appeal  to  their  treaty 
made  with  Henry  IV.  May  18,  1412,  whereby 
they  surrendered  Aquitaine.  Their  envoys  then 
were  Berri,  Orleans,  Bourbon,  and  Alen9on. 

1414  April.        Parliament  of  Leicester.     Bill  for  confiscating  the 

church  revenues. 

Lent.         Henry  continues  to  make  exorbitant  demands  of  both 
the  French  parties,  sending  to  France  his  uncle, 
Dorset  (afterwards  Duke  of  Exeter). 
The  Dauphin.  Louis  sends  the  tennis-balls. 

Sep.  4.  The  Armagnacs  and  Burgundians  make  an  agree- 
ment. 

Sep.  30.  Henry  consults  the  Great  Council,  who  advise  more 
moderate  demands  to  avoid  the  sin  of  blood- 
guiltiness.  Convocation  practically  sanctions  the 
war. 

Nov.  19.   Parliament  votes  a  subsidy  for  the  war. 
141$    Jan.  24.     Truce  with  France  prolonged  till  May  I.     Fresh 
negotiations. 


224  KIN('    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

April  1 6.  Henry  informs  the  council  of  his  intention  to  invade 

France. 

Truce  prolonged  to  June  8,  then  to  July  25. 
A  French  embassy  in  England  in  June  and  July. 

June  1 8.    King  leaves  London  for  Southampton. 

July  20.     Discovery  of  Cambridge's  conspiracy. 

Gray  executed  first,  Cambridge  and  Scroop  on  Aug.  5. 

Aug.  II.  King  sails  with  all  his  peers  except  Lord  Devon, 
Westmoreland  (left  guarding  the  Scotch  border), 
Warwick  (guarding  Calais),  and  about  8000 
fighting  men. 

Aug.  17.  Siege  of  Harfleur  begun.  The  king  often  goes  the 
rounds  at  night. 

Sep.  22.    Surrender  of  Harfleur. 

Oct.  8.      Henry  starts  with  3700  men  on  march  for  Calais. 

Oct.  13.  Being  unable  to  cross  the  Somme  where  Edward  III. 
had  crossed  it  at  Blanche  Taque,  Henry  is  com- 
pelled to  march  up  country. 

Oct.  17.    Near  Corbie  he  hangs  a  man  for  stealing  a  pix. 

Oct.  19.    Crosses  the  Somme  near  Nesles. 

Oct.  24.  Henry  crosses  the  Ternoise  at  Blangy,  and  comes  in 
sight  of  the  French.  Sir  Walter  Hungerford  ex- 
presses a  wish  for  10,000  more  archers. 

Oct.  25.    Battle  of  Agincourt. 

Nov.  1 6.    Henry  crosses  from  Calais  to  Dover. 

1416  May  I       The  Emperor  Sigismund  lands  at  Dover,  having 

come  in  hope  of  making  peace  between  England 

and  France. 

Aug.  15.   Treaty  between  Henry  and  Sigismund. 
Oct.  6.      Henry  and  Sigismund  meet  John,  Duke  of  Burgundy. 

at  Calais  without  result. 
Earl  of  Dorset  made  Duke  of  Exeter. 

1417  Aug.  I.     Henry  lands  in  France  with  10,000  men. 
Nov.  i.     Burgundy  joins  Queen  Isabel. 

1419  Jan.  13.     Henry  takes  Rouen  after  a  long  siege. 

May  29.  Henry  meets  Burgundy,  Queen  Isabel,  and  the 
Princess  Katharine  at  Meulan  without  result. 

July     8.     Burgundy  comes  to  terms  with  the  Dauphin  Charles. 

Sep.  IO.  At  his  second  interview  with  the  Dauphin,  Burgundy 
is  treacherously  murdered. 

Dec.  25.  Philip,  the  new  Duke  of  Burgundy,  comes  to  an 
agreement  with  Henry. 

1420  May  21.     Henry,  Queen  Isabel,  and  Burgundy  sign  the  treaty 

of  Troyes. 
June    2.     Henry's  marriage  with  Princess  Katharine. 


APPENDIX   I. 


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APPENDIX   II.  227 


APPENDIX    II. 

SHAKESPEARE'S   USAGE   IN   BLANK  VERSE, 
RHYME,   AND   PROSE. 

I.    BLANK  VERSE. 

Blank  verse,  that  is  verse  without  rhyme  or  alliteration,  did  not 
come  into  use  till  the  sixteenth  century.  It  then  denoted  a  series  of 
unrhymed  lines,  each  consisting  of  ten  syllables,  of  which  the  second, 
fourth,  sixth,  eighth,  and  tenth  were  stressed.  The  end  of  each  line 
coincided  with  a  pause  in  the  sense.  Such  lines  are  found  even  in 
Shakespeare— e.g. : 

As  due'  |  to  love'  |  as  thoughts'  |  and  dreams'  |  and  sighs'  | 

(Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  i.  i.  155). 
Divide'  |  your  hap'  |  py  Eng7  |  land  in'  |  to  four* 

(Henry  V.,  i.  2.  214). 

They  may  be  broken  up  as  above  into  five  feet,  each  foot  con- 
sisting of  an  unstressed  syllable,  followed  by  one  bearing  a  stress. 

In  the  earlier  Elizabethan  plays,  such  as  Gorboduc  (1563),  lines  of 
this  strict  type  occur  in  masses.1  But  the  effect  was  felt  to  be  so 
monotonous  that  several  licenses  were  resorted  to  in  order  to  obtain 
variety,  and  the  student  will  find  that  Shakespeare's  lines  are  seldom 
of  the  strictly  regular  form. 

It  is  necessary,  then,  to  observe  (A)  the  more  ordinary  methods  by 
which  variety  was  given  to  blank  verse,  viz.:  (i)  weak  stresses,  (2) 
stress-inversion,  (3)  internal  pauses  and  enjambement,  (4)  extra  syl- 
lables, (5)  omission  of  syllables;  and  (B)  the  less  usual  variations, 
viz.:  (i)  extra  stresses,  (2)  omission  of  stresses. 

A.   NORMAL  VARIATIONS  OF  BLANK  VERSE. 

§  i.  Weak  stresses. 

One  method  of  obtaining  variety  of  effect  was  to  substitute  for  a 
strongly  stressed  syllable  one  capable  of  bearing  only  a  very  slight 
stress.  We  may  indicate  such  a  weak  stress  by  the  grave  accent  ('). 
In  the  line — 

And  mon'  |  archs  to'  ]  behold'  |  the  swell'  |  ing  scene'  (i.  P.  4) 

the  weak  stress  upon  to,  in  a  position  where  a  strong  stress  might 
be  expected,  serves  to  prevent  monotony.  Such  a  line  is  often  read 
by  bad  readers  with  a  strong  stress  upon  the  to.  They  have  not 

i  Of  the  blank  verse  of  Gorboduc  Mr.  Swinburne  (Study  of  Shakespeare)  says: 
"  Blank  it  certainly  is,  but  verse  it  assuredly  is  not.  There  can  be  no  verse  where 
there  is  no  modulation,  no  rhythm  where  there  is  no  music." 


228  KING    HENRY  THE  FIFTH. 

learnt  to  appreciate  the  delicate  effects  of  English  blank  verse. 
Other  examples  of  weak  stress  are  i.  P.  6  (at),  i.  P.  9  (that), 
i.  P.  10  (t6),  i.  P.  23  (with).  If  weak  stresses  were  introduced  too 
freely,  the  rhythm  of  the  line  would  be  lost.  Accordingly  we  find 
that  weak  stresses  rarely  occur  in  two  consecutive  feet ;  nor  are  there 
ever  more  than  two  weak  stresses  in  the  five-stressed  line. 

§2.   Stress-inversion. 

Another  variation  is  brought  about  by  the  stress  in  one  or  two  of 
the  feet  being  thrown  on  the  first  instead  of  on  the  second  syllable. 
This  is  the  case  in  the  1st  foot  of  the  first  line  of  our  play. 

<)'  for  |  a  Muse'  ,  of  fire'  j  that  would'  |  ascend' 

Such  an  inversion  commonly  occurs  after  a  pause.  Hence  it  is 
found  most  often  in  the  1st  foot  of  a  line,  and  next  often  in  the  3rd 
or  4th  foot,  sense-pauses  commonly  occurring  in  those  places.  In 
the  2nd  foot  the  inversion  is  unusual,1  in  the  5th  it  is  very  rare,  and 
generally  serves  the  purpose  of  strong  emphasis. 

Examples  for  3rd,  4th,  and  2nd  feet — 

3rd          And  sol'  |  emnly'  |  see'  him  |  set  on'  |  to  Lon'don  (v.  P.  14). 

4th          To  him'  1  and  to'  \  his  heirs'  [  namely  |  the  crown'    ii.  a.  81). 

and          By  th'  which'  |  mar'riage  |  the  line'  |  of  Charles'  |  the  great'  (i.  a.  84). 

Two  inversions  may  occur  in  the  same  line — 

ist  and  3rd  feet  Ge'ntly  |  to  hear7,  |  kind'ly  |  to  judge'  |  our  play'   (L  P.  34). 
ist  and  4th          C.ir'ry  ,  them  here'  |  and  there',  |  jump'ing  |  o'er  times'  (i.  P.  19). 
Gird'ing  |  with  grie'  I  vous  siege'  |  cas'tles  |  and  towns'  (i.  a.  153). 

But  we  rarely  find  two  inversions  in  succession,  and  never  three. 

§3.    Internal  Pauses  and  Enjambement. 

It  has  been  said  that  in  the  earliest  form  of  blank  verse  the  end 
of  a  line  generally  coincided  with  a  pause  in  the  sense. 

Fresh  effects  were  produced  (i)  by  making  sense-pauses  occur  at 
various  points  within  the  line,  (2)  by  dispensing  with  a  sense-pause 
at  the  end,  so  that  the  last  words  of  a  line  are  in  close  logical  con- 
nexion with  the  first  words  of  the  next.  This  feature  is  called. 
enjambement  ( —  '  overstepping '),  and  is  more  and  more  common  in 
Shakespeare's  later  plays. 

Take  these  lines  from  Cymbeline  (1609),  iii.  2.  45,  &c, — 

"Did  you  but  know  the  city's  usuries 
And  felt  them  knowingly;  the  art  o'  the  court, 
As  hard  to  leave  as  keep;  whose  top  to  climb 
Is  certain  falling,  or  so  slippery  that 
The  fear 's  as  bad  as  falling :  the  toil  o'  the  war, 
A  pain  that  only  seems  to  seek  out  danger 
I'  the  name  of  fame  and  honour",  &c. 

1  Kdnig  has  reckoned  that  there  are  34  cases  of  stress-inversion  in  Shakespear* 
in  the  and  foot,  against  about  500  in  the  3rd,  400  in  the  4th,  and  3000  in  the  ist* 


APPENDIX   II.  229 

The  sense-pauses  are  independent  of  the  end-pauses  of  the  verse,  and 
we  gain  a  great  variety  of  effect. 

We  have  the  most  marked  cases  of  enjambement  where  a  line 
ends  (l)  with  a  conjunction,  an  auxiliary  verb,  a  personal  or  relative 
pronoun,  or  other  particle,  (2)  with  a  preposition  governing  a  case 
in  the  line  following.  The  first  class,  called  '  weak  endings ',  is  only 
frequent,  the  second,  'light  endings',  only  occurs  at  all,  in  Shake- 
speare's later  plays. 

More  ordinary  cases  of  enjambement  are  the  following  : — 

(1)  Where  the  end -pause  of  the  line  comes  between  subject  and 
predicate. 

The  venom  of  such  looks,  we  fairly  hope, 
Have  lost  their  quality  (v.  2.  18). 

Here  the  inserted  clause  after  looks  makes  the  enjambement  less 
marked. 

If  that  same  demon  that  hath  gull'd  thee  thus 

Should  with  his  lion  gait  walk  the  whole  world  (ii.  2.  la). 

Here  the  weight  (or  length)  of  the  two  clauses  softens  the  enjambe- 
ment. 

this  your  air  of  France 
Hath  blown  that  vice  in  me  (iii.  6.  142). 

(2)  Between  predicate  and  completion  (verb  and  object,  infin.  and 
object.,  auxil.  and  infin.). 

from  her  blood  raise  up 
Issue  to  me  (v.  2.  327). 

I  by  bargain  should 
Wear  it  myself  (iv.  7.  163) 

The  taste  whereof  God  of  his  mercy  give 
You  patience  to  endure  (ii.  2.  179). 

(3)  Clauses  and  sentences  beginning  with  than,  as,  so,  or  preposi- 
tions regularly  begin  a  line,  however  close  their  connexion  with  the 
preceding  words  may  be. 

§  4.  Extra  Syllables. 

A  further  variation  on  the  normal  type  of  blank  verse  is  secured 
by  the  introduction  of  extra  syllables— ( I )  at  the  end  of  the  line  (i.e. 
before  the  verse-pause) ;  (2)  at  the  beginning  of  the  line  (i.e.  after 
the  verse-pause);  (3)  before  or  after  the  pause  within  the  verse  (or 
casura)  or  a  break  in  the  dialogue ;  (4)  in  other  places.  This  last 
only  became  frequent  in  the  later  plays. 

(i.)  The  addition  of  an  unstressed  syllable  at  the  end  of  the  line 
("double-ending")  is  the  most  frequent  of  all  deviations  from  the 
original  type  of  blank  verse :  e.g. 

You  would'  |  desire'  |  the  king7  |  were  made'  |  a  prel  |  ate  (i.  i.  40). 

Occasionally  tu<o  extra  syllables  are  added. 


230  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

Often,  however,  where  there  appear  to  be  two  extra  syllables,  one 
was  slurred  in  pronunciation  : 

The  sweet'  |  ness  of  |  affi'  |  ance  Show7  |  men  dut'  |  iful  (iL  2.  137). 
That  nev7  |  er  may'  |  ill  of  |  fice  or'  |  fell  jeal'  |  ousy  (v.  t.  342). 

The  middle  syllable  of  dutiful,  jealousy  was  slurred.  See  Append. 
III.  §  i.  iii.  (b). 

(2.)  At  the  beginning  of  the  line. 

God  a  mer'  |  cy  old'  [  heart !  thou'  |  speak'st  cheer'  |  fully'  (iv.  i.  34!. 
That  shall  fly'  |  with  them'  '  fur  man'  |  y  a  thou'  |  sand  wi'dows  (i.  3.  284). 

(It  is  possible  that  the  words  that  shall  were  pronounced  that's. 
Cp.  J'se—I  shall,  I^ear,  iv.  6.  246;  (Aou's,  Komto  and  Juliet, 
i.  3.  9.  For  the  extra  syllable  in  the  4th  four,  see  (4)  below. 

A  difficult  case  is  iii.  5.  24,  which  might  be  considered  a  six  stressed 
line.  Probably,  however,  it  should  be  scanned 

Upon  our  hou'  |  ses  thatch'  |  whiles'  a  i  more  fro*'  |  ty  peo'plc 

and  the  redundant  syllables  of  the  first  foot  explained  by  the  aphue- 
resis  of  upon  (*/V;;).      Possibly  the  reading  is  wrong. 

(3.)  An  extra  unstressed  syllable  is  often  found  before  a  pause 
within  the  verse: 

Crouch'  for  |  employ7 ment  j|  But  par'  |  don  gen'  I  ties  all'   i   P.  8). 

Be  soon'  |  collect Vi/  I  and  all'  |  things  thought'  |  upon'   i   2.  305  . 

(Here,  probably,  we  have  the  common  contraction  of  -ed  after  /.) 

My  Lord'  |  of  Cam'bridge  ||  and"  my  |  kind  lord'  \  of  Ma'sham  (it  2.  13). 
Than'  is  |  your  majesty  U  There  's  not',  |  I  think',  |  a  subject  ,ii-  2.  26). 

For  majesty^  see  App.  III.  §  I,  iii.  (b). 

Shall  not'  |  be  winked'  at  ||  How'  shall  |  we  stretch'  |  our  eye'   n.  2.  55). 

Out'  of  |  appear'ance  :j  I  do'  |  confess'  ]  my  faulr1  ;ii.  2.  76). 
These  Engf  |  lish  mon'sters  i!  My  Lord'  |  of  Cam'  |  bridge  here'  (it  2.  85;. 

Will  soon'  |  be  le'vied  |]  He'rald,  '  hold  now*  |  thy  la'bour  ;iv.  3.  121). 
Of  France'  |  and  Eng'land  ])  whose  ve'  !  ry  shores'  i  look  pale'  'v.  2.  329). 

So  where  the  pause  is  after  the  third  foot : 

To  hin'  |  der  our7 1  begin'nings  ||  We  doubt'  |  not  now'   ii   z.  187). 
Or  break'  |  it  all'  |  to  pie'ces :  ||  or  there'  |  we  'U  sit*  (i.  2.  225) 

(4.)  An  extra  syllable  is  sometimes  found  in  other  places: 
Come'  to  |  one  mark'  |  as  man'  |  y  ways  meet'  1  in  one  town'  i.  2.  208). 

The  -v  of  many  was  probably  almost  a  consonant  here,  and  one 
town  little  more  than  a  town : 

Trail'st'  thou  |  the  puis'  |  sant  pike'?  I  E'en  so'  |  what  are  you'?  [iv.  i.  40). 
(Possibly  an  Alexandrine.     See  B.  §  I.  below.) 

1  A  dot  under  a  vowel  signifies  that  the  vowel  was  slurred  «r  suppressed  in 
pronunciation. 


APPENDIX   II.  231 

:       Join'd'  with  |  an  en'e  ]  my  proclaim'd'  |  and  from'  |  his  differs  (ii.  2.  168) 
That  inv  |  the  field'  |  lie  slain'  |  Of  prin'ces  |  in  this  num'ber  (iv.  8.  71). 

The  -es  of  princes  was  probably  suppressed.  Cp.  highness1,  i.  2. 
36,  &c.,  and  benevolences,  Richard  II.,  ii.  I.  250. 

§  5.  Omission  of  Syllables. 

Sometimes  an   unstressed    syllable   is   omitted   from   the   verse. 
This  happens  especially  after  a  pause,  therefore  chiefly  in  the  1st, 
3rd,  and  4th  feet.     But  it  hardly  became  a  regular  type. 
(1st  foot): 

Then'  |  you  are'  |  a  belt'  ]  er  than'  |  the  king'  (iv.  i.  43:  if  verse). 
(3rd  foot) : 

Why  so'  |  didst  thou'  |      Seem'  |  they  grave'  |  and  learn'ed  (ii.  i.  128;. 

This  (like  all  other  irregularities)  is  commonest  after  a  change  of 
speakers  (the  most  marked  of  all  dramatic  pauses). 

B.  LESS  USUAL  VARIATIONS  OF  BLANK  VERSE 

These  consist  either  in  (i)  Extra  stresses  producing  lines  of  six  or 
seven  instead  of  the  normal  five  feet.  (2)  Omission  of  stresses,  pro- 
ducing lines  of  four  feet  or  less. 

§  i.  Extra  stresses. 

One  of  the  commonest  mistakes  of  young  students  in  regard  to 
Shakespeare's  prosody  is  to  take  lines  as  Alexandrines  or  six- 
stressed  lines  which  are  not  so.  The  mistake  arises  from  ignoring 
Shakespeare's  habit  of  slurring  certain  syllables. 

The  following  line  might  be  taken  as  bearing  six  stresses.    Thus — 

Join'd'  with  |  an  en'  i  emy'  |  proclaim'd'  |  and  from'  |  his  cof  |  fers  (ii.  2.  168). 

But  see  A.  §  4  (4)  above. 

Neither  must  one  treat  as  an  Alexandrine 

It  is  now  two  o'clock  but,  let  me  see,  by  ten  (iii.  7.  145). 

It  is  is  monosyllabic  =  it 's,  and  tivo  o'clock  is  slurred : 
It 's  now'  |  two  o'clock,'  |  but  let'  |  me  see'  |  by  ten'.  | 

However,  after  all  such  deductions  there  remain  a  certain  number 
of  six- stressed  lines.  They  commonly  have  a  decided  pause  after  the 
third  foot.  Rarely  the  pause  is  after  the  fourth,  or  there  is  no  pause, 
as  in  v.  I.  80  (Pistol). 

The  most  natural  case  is  that  when  the  pause  is  strongest,  i.e. 
when  the  line  is  divided  between  two  speakers.  So — 

Scroop.  So  did'  |  you  me'  |  my  liege'll. 

Grey.  And  I'  |  my  roy'  \  al  sov'ereign  iii.  a.  64). 

West.  That  do'  |  no  work'  |  to-day.'  I 

K.  Henry.  What's  he'  |  that  wish'  |  es  so'?  tiv.  3.  18). 


232  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

In  the  last  case  the  king's  words  are  uttered  probably  in  a  hurry  of 
impatience,  and  the  undue  length  of  the  line  is  not  remarked. 
The  same  explanation  may  be  given  in  the  next  cases. 

Kor'  the  I  best  hope'  |  I  have.'l!  O  do'  |  not  wish'  |  one  more'!      iv.  3.  33). 
So  man'  |  y  hor'  |  rid  ghosts'!  O  now1  1  who'  will  |  behold'   iv.  P.  28  . 

The  line  iv.  P.  22  may  be  scanned  otherwise,  but  it  seems  better  to 
consider  it  as  six-stressed. 

So  te'  |  diously'  j  away'  u  The  poor7  |  condera'  |  ned  Eng'lish. 

Possible  examples  of  six-stressed  lines  are  iii.  5.  24  and  iv.  8.  74.  It 
seems  better,  however,  to  treat  them  as  in  A.  §4  (2)  and  A.  §  4  (4). 
The  most  noticeable  use  of  Alexandrines  in  our  play  is  as  mock- 
heroic  verse.  They  are  a  regular  feature  of  Pistol's  style,  i.e.  ii.  I. 
57,  117;  ii.  3.  5;  iii.  2.  5,  22;  iii.  6.  46;  iv.  I.  50;  v.  i.  80.  Shake 
speare  had  already  associated  them  with  Pistol  in  2  Henry  IV.  See 
there  ii.  4.  198,  211,  213. 

§  2.  Omission  of  Stresses. 

Occasionally  one  of  the  five  stresses  is  omitted,  likewise  in  conse- 
quence of  a  strong  pause. 

In  the  third  foot  of  v.  2.  326,  we  may  say  that  a  stressed  syllabic 
alone  is  wanting,  as  the  n  in  upon  will  almost  give  a  short  syllable. 

And  there'  |  upon'  |    |  give'  me  |  your  daugh'ter. 

Short  lines. — We  do,  however,  undoubtedly  find  in  all  Shake- 
ipeare's  plays  among  the  normal  five-stress  lines  short  or  fragmentary 
verses  of  from  one  to  four  feet.  Those  of  one  foot  are  often  rather 
to  be  regarded  as  extra-metrical,  those  of  four  feet  are  very  rare. 
Except  in  the  later  plays  these  short  verses  are  habitually  marked 
off  from  the  normal  verses  in  which  they  occur  by  decided  pauses  or 
breaks  in  the  sense.  Exceptions  to  this  are  found  in  iv.  I.  215,  iv.  5. 
4,  of  our  play. 

Two  classes  of  short  line  may  be  distinguished  which  we  may  call 
the  exclamatory  and  the  interrupted  respectively.  In  the  first  the 
brevity  of  the  verse  marks  the  interjectional  character  of  what  it 
expresses,  in  the  second  it  marks  some  interruption  in  the  current  of 
speech,  whether  due  to  the  intervention  of  some  other  person  or  to 
something  in  the  mind  of  the  speaker  himself, 
(l)  Exclamatory. 

(a)  Matter-of-fact  remarks,  orders,  question s-of- fact,  (yf.  (detached 
from  the  ordinary  verse  as  more  prosaic,  just  as  formal  documents, 
letters,  &c.  are  commonly  in  prose) :  as — 

It  is  (four  o'clock]    i.  i.  94). 
Go  to  (ii.  i.  71). 
Give  me  thy  hand   ii.  i.  103). 
Where  is  the  king?  (iv.  3.  i). 
Give  the  word  through  ,iv.  6.  38). 


APPENDIX   II.  233 

(b)  Exclamations  (detached  from  the  ordinary  verse  to  give  them 
greater  force  and  weight) :  as — 

By  faith  and  honour  (iii.  5.  27) 
Brass,  cur !  (iv.  4.  18). 
Amen !  (v.  2.  335,  347). 

(c)  Addresses  or  appeals. 

Sir  (ii.  2.  47). 

(2)  Interrupted. 

(a)  Interruption  by  another  speaker. 

Imploring  pardon. 

Glouc.  My  liege!  (iv.  i.  289). 

Here  the  king  on  his  knees  is  interrupted  by  the  summons  to 
battle. 

Which  is  his  only  (iv.  8.  109). 

Here  Fluellen  breaks  in  with  a  question. 

(The  example- 

That  God  fought  for  us  (iv.  8.  113) 

is  not  really  the  case  of  a  short  verse.  The  king  is  again  interrupted 
by  Fluellen,  but  in  this  case  he  does  not  hear  or  he  ignores  the  in- 
terruption and  goes  on  to  complete  his  own  line — "  Do  we  all  holy 
rites".) 

A  further  case  of  interruption  arises  where  the  interrupting  speaker 
disregards  the  words  just  spoken,  starts  a  thought  of  his  own,  or 
addresses  a  new  person.  In  iii.  5.  1O,  iv.  2.  60,  the  second  speaker 
seems  so  carried  away  by  impetuosity  as  to  pay  scant  regard  to  the 
Dauphin. 

Sometimes  in  a  dialogue  where  there  is  no  real  interruption  of 
thought  one  speaker  ends  his  speech  with  a  short  verse,  and  the 
next  speaker  instead  of  completing  the  verse  begins  a  new  one. 
This  is  especially  the  case  where  a  difference  of  rank  or  standpoint 
between  the  two  speakers  is  to  be  suggested. 

Cp.  i.  2.  21  (Ely  and  Canterbury),  i.  2.  32  (K.  Hen.  and  Cant.), 
i.  2.  139  (do.),  i.  2.  298  (Exe.  and  K.  Hen.),  ii.  2.  47  (K.  Hen.  and 
Cam.),  ii.  2.  78  (Grey,  &c.  and  K.  Hen.),  ii.  4.  96  (Fr.  King  am? 
Exe.),  iv.  3.  89  (Mont,  and  K.  Hen.),  iv.  3.  130  (York  and  K.  Hen.), 
iv.  7.  83  (Mont,  and  K.  Hen.),  v.  2.  311  (K.  Hen.  and  West.), 
v.  2.  326  (K.  Hen.  and  Fr.  King). 

So  where  Pistol  is  talking  with  the  Frenchman,  iv.  4.  II,  15,  20, 
24. 

(b)  Self-interruption. 

A  half-line  in  the  middle  of  a  speech  often  closes  one  topic  before 
the  starting  of  a  new  train  of  thought.  So  perhaps  iv.  I.  233.  This 
appears  in  the  mock-heroics  of  Pistol,  iii.  6.  42. 


234  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

A  short  line  without  any  pause  following  may  suggest  passion  or 
excitement.  This  is  clearly  so  with  the  four-stressed  line — 

Reproach  and  everlasting  shame  .  .  .  (iv.  5.  4), 

uttered  by  the  Dauphin  in  the  moment  of  defeat. 

So  perhaps  intensity  of  feeling  is  indicated  by  the  short  line  in  the 
king's  soliloquy — 

Upon  the  king  !  let  us  our  lives,  our  souls, 

Our  debt>,  our  careful  wives, 

Our  children  and  Our  sirs  Uy  on  the  king!    iv.  i.  915). 

In  such  cases  as  these  last  there  is  little  difference  between  the  use 
of  short-stressed  and  extra-stressed  lines.  Either  of  them  suggests 
some  disturbance  of  thought  or  feeling. 

A  short  line,  like  a  six-stressed  line,  lends  itself  therefore  to  the 
parodying  of  strong  emotion,  to  the  mock-heroic.  In  this  play  short 
lines  no  less  than  Alexandrines  are  characteristic  of  Pistol.  Cp.  ii. 
I.  65,  ii.  3.  3,  ii.  3.  46,  iii.  6.  26,  iii.  6.  38,  iv.  I.  45,  v.  i.  74. 

II.  RHYME. 
§  I.    To  f one  attention 

(a)  At  the  end  of  a  scene. 

Most  verse-scenes  in  Henry  I7,  are  closed  with  a  rhyming  couplet, 
in  accordance  with  the  custom  which  Shakespeare  retained  to  the 
end,  in  spite  of  his  gradual  abandonment  of  rhyme  for  other  purposes. 
The  only  verse-scenes  not  closed  with  rhyme  in  our  play  are  i.  I., 
ii.  4.,  iii.  6.,  iv.  6.,  iv.  7.  In  i.  2  we  have  two  couplets  at  the  close. 
In  iii.  7  a  rhymed  couplet  even  closes  a  scene  otherwise  entirely  in 
prose. 

Similarly  the  prologues  are  closed  with  a  rhyming  couplet — those 
to  the  1st  and  2nd  acts  by  two  such  couplets. 

(The  epilogue  is  a  sonnet,  and  therefore  rhymed  throughout.) 

(b)  At  the  end  of  a  speech. 

We  have  examples  of  this  use  at  the  end  of  the  king's  speeches, 
i.  2.  295-6  (the  words  that  follow  are  purely  formal),  iii.  3.  43,  44 
(where  the  couplet  brings  the  whole  speech  to  a  point),  iv.  I.  26,  27, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  Constable's  speech,  iv.  2.  36,  37.  The  couplet 
at  the  end  of  Burgundy's  speech,  v.  2.  66-67  contains  an  assonance, 
if  hardly  a  rhyme. 

In  i.  2.  287-8,  a  rhyming  couplet  closes  a  mere  division  of  a 
speech. 

Both  in  (a)  and  (b)  the  effect  of  the  rhyme  is  to  strike  the  attention 
of  the  listener.  Sometimes  at  the  end  of  a  scene  its  use  is  hardly 
more  than  mechanical — it  announces  t-he  end  and  nothing  more. 
Often,  however,  the  last  words  of  a  scene  or  a  speech  contain  the 
gist  of  the  whole,  put,  as  it  were,  in  an  epigram,  and  the  rhyme 
ensures  that  their  purport  is  not  missed.  In  iv.  2.  36,  37  the  couplet 
emphasizes  the  vain  self-confidence  of  the  French,  and  so  prepares 


APPENDIX   II.  235 

the  minds  of  the  audience  to  see  something  of  divine  retribution  in 
their  subsequent  overthrow. 

(c)  In  dialogue. 

Something  like  this  accounts  for  the  example  in  iv.  2.  13,  14, 
where  the  rhymed  lines  are  in  the  mouths  of  different  speakers — 

Ram.  What  will  you  have  them  weep  our  horses'  blood? 
How  shall  we  then  behold  their  natural  tears? 

Enter  Messenger. 
Mess.  The  English  are  embattled,  you  French  peers. 

Here  the  rhyme  drives  home  the  contrast  between  the  bragging  of 
the  French  and  the  fate  which  the  English  were  preparing  for  them. 

§  2.  Lyric  or  emotional  use. 

We  have  no  examples  in  our  play  of  this  use  of  rhyme  except  so 
far  as  we  may  see  it  burlesqued  by  Pistol,  ii.  I.  98,  100,  101 ;  ii.  3. 
48,  52;  iii.  2.  7,  8,  12,  13. 

§3.  Popular  or  proverbial  use.     i.  2.  167-8. 

III.   PROSE. 

In  Shakespeare's  latest  plays  prose  is  employed  for  earnest  and 
elevated  discourse.  In  Henry  V.  we  have  not  arrived  quite  so  far, 
though  we  are  on  the  way  to  it.  Here  its  uses  are  three : — 

(a)  For  documents,  proclamations,  6-r.  Cp.  ii.  2.  145,  &c., 
iii.  6.  ill,  v.  2.  316,  &c. 

(6)  For  the  speech  of  the  inferior  characters.  Bardolph,  Nym, 
Hostess,  Boy  (but  for  two  lines  of  burlesque  verse),  Fluellen,  Gower, 
Macmorris,  Jamy,  Court,  Bates,  Williams,  French  soldier,  all  speak 
prose  exclusively.  The  only  exception  is  Pistol,  whose  character  is 
reflected  by  his  constant  use  of  mock-heroic  verse. 

(c)  For  the  speech  of  the  more  elevated  characters  in  their  lighter  or 
more  commonplace  moments. 

The  French  scene  between  Katharine  and  Alice  (iii.  4.),  being  pure 
comedy,  is  naturally  in  prose.  So  the  scene  in  the  French  camp 
(iii.  7. )  in  which  we  are  introduced  to  the  Dauphin  and  the  French 
lords  in  their  familiar  intercourse,  with  jests  and  repartees  flying 
fast.  In  iv  i.  Henry  in  disguise,  talking  with  Pistol,  stoops  after  a 
little  time  to  prose,  although  when  left  alone  for  a  minute  (11.  81,  82) 
he  is  the  king,  and  soliloquizes  in  verse.  He  talks  prose  with  the 
soldiers,  but  when  they  have  left  the  scene  (1.  214)  he  resumes  his 
natural  tone  at  once  and  speaks  in  verse.  In  iv.  7.,  talking  with 
Fluellen  and  Williams,  the  king  speaks  in  verse  till  the  French 
heralds  have  left  the  scene  (1.  112),  when  almost  at  once  he  drops 
into  prose  and  so  continues  till  the  exit  of  Fluellen,  when  he 
addresses  his  lords  in  verse. 

In  v.  2.,  the  courtship  scene,  when  first  left  alone  with  Katharine 
tnd  Alice  (1.  98),  Henry  addresses  the  princess  in  verse.  Katharine's 


236  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH. 

reply  in  broken  English  at  once  turns  the  scene  into  comedy,  and  the 
whole  of  the  courtship  is  conducted  in  prose.  By  this  subordination 
of  the  scene  Shakespeare  indicates  that  we  are  not  to  look  here  for 
the  main  interest  of  the  play.  Henry  is  not  a  Komeo;  he  was  at  his 
greatest  on  the  eve  of  Agincourt ;  his  marriage  is  only  a  consequence, 
not  a  climax.  In  his  love-making  there  is  nothing  of  superhuman 
passion  or  poetry:  "I  speak  to  thee,  plain  soldier".  And  so  even 
after  the  entrance  of  the  French  King  and  Queen,  Burgundy,  &c. 
(1.  267),  so  long  as  the  conversation  turns  on  Henry's  marriage,  it  is 
in  prose.  But  from  the  moment  that  the  interests  of  the  two  king- 
doms come  under  consideration  (1.  310)  the  scene  (apart  from  one 
piece  of  pure  formality)  is  entirely  in  verse. 


APPENDIX    III. 

PRONUNCIATION   OF  WORDS 

IN    SHAKESPEARE  SO   FAR   AS   IT  AFFECTS 

THE  VERSE. 

We  have  already  dealt  with  the  different  forms  of  verse  found  in 
our  play.  Before,  however,  the  young  student  is  able  to  scan 
Shakespeare's  lines  correctly,  he  must  be  acquainted  with  Shake- 
speare's pronunciation  of  words,  so  far  as  this  affects  the  part  they  can 
play  in  his  -verse, 

For  example,  it  is  not  necessary,  in  order  to  scan  Shakespeare's 
lines,  to  know  how  Shakespeare  pronounced  town  or  but,  because, 
whatever  was  the  vowel-sound,  provided  that  in  town  it  was  long 
and  in  but  short,  it  would  not  affect  the  part  that  those  words  could 
play  in  a  line  of  verse. 

But  it  is  necessary  to  know  if  Shakespeare  pronounced  action, 
power  as  one  syllable  or  two,  if  he  contracted  that  is  into  MO/'J, 
if  he  said  por'tent  or  portent,  &c.  &c.,  because,  if  we  are  not 
acquainted  with  his  practice  in  such  cases,  we  shall  be  sure  to  scan 
his  lines  wrongly.  We  shall  scan  according  to  our  pronunciation, 
and  not  according  to  his. 

We  may  divide  our  inquiry  under  two  heads : — 

A.  Variations  of  pronunciation  as  regards  the  number  of  syllables 
in  words. 

B.  Variations  of  pronunciation  as  regards  the  accents  of  words. 

A,  VARIATIONS  OF  PRONUNCIATION  AS  REGARDS  THE  NUMBER 
OF  SYLLABLES  IN  WORDS. 

In  Elizabethan  speech  there  was  greater  variety  in  pronunciation 
than  is  the  case  at  present.  Syllables  now  slurred  only  in  dialect 


APPENDIX    III.  237 

were  suppressed  in  rapid  talk  by  choice  speakers,  and  others,  now 
always  contracted  into  one  (e.g.  the  termination  -tion),  were  then 
sometimes  treated  as  two.  Shakespeare  often,  therefore,  had  before 
him  the  choice  of  one  out  of  two  available  pronunciations,  and  we 
shall  find  that  many  words  are  treated  by  him  now  in  one  way  and 
now  in  another,  as  is  convenient  at  the  moment. 

If  we  ask  how  it  can  come  about  that  at  one  time  there  should  be 
two  slightly  different  pronunciations  of  the  same  word,  we  shall 
generally  find  that  one  of  the  two  is  the  older  pronunciation  of  the 
word,  and  the  other  has  arisen  out  of  it  in  rapid  speech.  So  capital 
in  rapid  speech  may  become  capital,  &c.  &c. ;  and  the  two  forms  of 
the  word  may  for  a  long  time  exist  side  by  side  and  both  be  intelli- 
gible. Perhaps  in  the  end  one  may  prevail  exclusively  and  the  other 
be  considered  either  old-fashioned  or  vulgar. 

Accordingly,  a  variation  in  pronunciation  generally  means  a  change 
in  pronunciation ;  and  we  shall  best  classify  variations  of  syllables  by 
taking  in  order  the  various  circumstances  under  which  the  number  of 
syllables  in  a  word  is  increased  or  diminished. 

A  change  in  the  number  of  syllables  in  a  word  may  come  about  in 
different  ways.  Sometimes  an  entire  syllable  is  dropped  or  inserted ; 
more  often  two  syllables  are  run  into  one,  or  a  single  one  broken  up 
into  two.  The  syllable  thus  gained  or  lost  is  always  without  accent. 

For  purposes  of  clearness  I  shall  take  in  order : 

1.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  a  consonant  in  any  situation. 

2.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  /,  m,  H,  r  +  a.  vowel. 

3.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  /,  m,  n,  r  final. 

4.  Intrusion  of  a  new  unaccented  vowel  through  r. 

5.  Loss  of  a  final  unaccented  vowel  before  the  initial  vowel  of 
the  next  word. 

6.  Slurring  or  consonantization  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  a 
vowel  in  the  same  word. 

7.  Development  of  vowel  /  from  consonant  /  (y)  —  Fr.  /.  mouilU. 

8.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  following  an  accented  vowel. 

9.  Contraction  of  two  vowels  into  one  on  the  loss  of  an  intervening 
consonant. 

10.  Loss  of  a  final  consonant,  causing  syllabic  lightening. 

§  i.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  a  consonant. 

(i)  At  the  beginning  of  a  word.  For  example,  'gainst -against 
(i.  2.  53);  'venge- avenge  (i.  2.  292). 

Sometimes  even  a  prefix  beginning  with  a  consonant  is  thus  lost, 
as  'fore— before  (v.  P.  12). 

In  monosyllables  the  loss  of  the  initial  vowel  is  very  common,  and 
we  must  often  assume  it  when  not  indicated. 

In  the  verb  to  be,  what's -what  is  (iv.  2.  32);  they  re -they  are 
(i  2  272). 

In  the  Verb  to  have,  I've -I  have  (v.  2.  24);   he'th-he  hath 

'in  pronouns,  let's=let  us  (iv.  5.  u);  before 's -before  us  (ii.  2. 


238  KIN(;    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

57);  clefy's-defy  in  (iii.   3.  5);  'tit-it  is  (iv.   3.  5);   is't?  =  u  iff 

(iii.  3-  »9)« 

(ii. )  At  the  etui  of  a  word.  The  loss  of  a  final  vowel  before  the 
consonant  of  the  next  word  hardly  occurs  except  in  the  word  the. 
At  the  present  day,  in  the  North-Midland  dialect,  we  hear  tK  lad, 
ttf  man,  &c. 

Shakespeare  resorted  greatly  to  this  apofof>e  in  his  later  plays ;  in 
Coriolanits,  for  example,  it  occurs  105  times,  in  almost  every  case 
after  a  vowel.  It  is  sometimes,  but  not  always,  represented  in  the 
printed  text. 

In  Henry  f.  we  have  eight  instances  at  least :  /*  tA'  receiving 
(i.  P.  27);  o'  the  last  (i.  I.  2);  by  tA'  year  (i.  I.  19);  to  tV  frown 
(j.  I.  88);  to  th'  lady  (i.  2.  74);  by  (A'  winch  (i.  2.  84);  Edward  tV 
Third  (?)  (i.  2.  248);  to  tA'  breach  (iii.  2.  I). 

(iii.)    Within  a  word. 

(a )  In  the  inflexional  suffix. 

The  unaccented  e  of  the  verb  and  noun  inflexions  which  we  find 
in  Chaucer  was  in  the  sixteenth  century  gradually  becoming  sup- 
pressed (where  no  sibilant  preceded). 

(a)  -es  (3rd  pers.  sing.)  -es  (plur.  and  gen.  sin;j. ).  No  trace  of 
the  former  as  a  separate  syllable,  except  after  sibilants,  is  found  in 
undoubtedly  Shakespearian  work  ;  a  few  cases  of  the  latter  occur  in 
early  plays,  but  not  in  Henry  V. 

Here  we  find  the  sounded  's  of  the  genitive  suppressed  even  after 
a  sibilant  in  i.  2.  36 — "Your  highness'  claim".  Cp.  ii.  2.  77. 

So  also  apparently  the  sounded  s  of  the  plural  in  iv.  8.  74, /);•///<-«(?). 

()3)  -eth,  -est.  Contraction  is  here  practically  universal  in  the  later 
plays. 

\Ve  have  diest  monosyllabic  in  iv.  4.  9.  In  iv.  7.  113  (if  verse) 
weareth  is  dissyllabic. 

(>)  -en.  Shakespeare  preserves  this  old  ending  of  the  strong  past 
partic.  in  the  form  -vell-foughten,  iv.  6.  18,  besides  given,  stolen,  &c. 

(5)  -«/ (past  tense  and  participle). 

Contraction  usual  except  as  in  Mod.  E.  after  /  or  J  sound,  e.g. 
remitted,  banded. 

However,  Shakespeare  had  a  certain  freedom  in  using  the  uncon- 
tracted  form  where  it  was  effective  or  metrically  convenient. 

Examples  for  the  past  tense  are  rare.  In  our  play  only  defosed 
i.  2.  65,  promised 'st,  iv.  8.  35.  Examples  for  the  past  participle  are 
rarest  where  the  part,  is  used  with  the  verb  to  have  or  to  be — as  part 
of  an  active  or  passive  verb,  especially  in  the  former  case.  We  have 
examples  of  its  use  passively  \n  fixed,  i.  2.  186;  devised,  i.  2.  186; 
thanked,  ii.  2.  158;  smoothed,  ii.  2.  \%&\  praised,  iv.  7.  8l;  cudgelled, 
v.  i.  77;  remembered,  iv.  3.  59- 

The  commonest  cases  of  its  occurrence  are  when  used  adjectivally, 
especially  when  used  as  an  attribute.  There  are  at  least  twenty-one 
cases  of  this  in  our  play,  e.g.  high-npreared,  i.  P.  21.  There  are 
seven  cases  of  its  use  as  an  adj.  standing  after  its  noun,  with  a  verb, 


APPENDIX   III.  239 

or  alone,  e.g.  crowned,  ii.  2.  5.  Some  participles  in  constant  use  as 
adjectives  as  damned,  blessed,  are  generally  uncontracted.  So  also 
the  adjectives  in  -ed,  naked,  wretched,  ragged,  &c. 

(b)  Between  two  accented  syllables. 

Words  of  three  syllables  with  an  accent  on  the  first  and  a  secondary 
accent  on  the  third  often  suppressed  the  unaccented  middle  vowel, 
wholly  or  partially.  This  was  commonest  when  the  unaccented 
vowel  was  preceded  or  followed  by  a  liquid  or  'vowel-like'  (/,  »/,  n, 
r).  Such  cases  are  treated  below,  §  2,  §  3. 

Other  cases  in  the  play  are: — majesty,  i.  I.  71,  &c. ;  but  ma'jesty\ 
ii.  4.  76;  capital,  ii.  2.  56,  but  ca'pital\  v.  2.  96;  dutiful,  ii.  2.  127; 
citizens,  i.  2.  199;  worried,  i.  2.  219;  busied,  ii.  4.  25 ;  Gloucester, 
iv.  i.  i,  &c.,  but  Gloti'cester',  iv.  I.  291;  Exeter,  iv.  3.  9,  iv.  8.  52,  but 
Ex'eter",  iv.  3.  53,  iv.  7.  172,  v.  2.  83;  Salisbury,  iv.  3.  II,  iv.  3.  54. 

In  such  cases  the  syncopated  or  non-syncopated  forms  were  used 
(as  with  -ed)  according  to  the  exigencies  of  metre,  the  long  forms 
usually  being  found  at  the  end  of  a  line. 

With  these  cases  of  trisyllabic  words  I  include  one  original  dis- 
syllable, spirit,  in  which  the  unaccented  vowel  is  generally  lost, 
perhaps  partly  through  the  preceding  r.  Cp.  ii.  2.  133,  iii.  I.  i6(?), 
iii.  5.  38,  iv.  i.  19.  So  spiritual,  i.  I.  76;  spiritually,  i.  2.  132. 
(But  spirited  (trisyl.),  iii.  5.  21.)  Perhaps  varlet,  iv.  2.  2,  is  a  similar 
case. 

§2.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  1,  m,  n,  r,  +  vowel. 

The  liquids  or  'vowel-likes'  /,  m,  n,  r,  owing  to  their  nature 
exercise  a  special  influence  over  vowels  adjacent  to  them. 

A  vowel  standing  before  /,  m,  n,  r,  tends  to  lose  its  own  character, 
and  all  that  is  left  is  the  obscure  vowel  sound  which  is  part  of  the 
liquid.  Thus  the  o  in  prison  sinks  to  the  same  sound  heard  before 
the  «  when  we  say  is  n  t  itJ 

If  the  liquid  is  followed  by  a  vowel  the  vowel-sound  which  pre- 
ceded it  is  lost,  as  we  see  at  once  when  we  turn  is  «V  into  is  not. 

Similarly  the  vowel  sound  represented  by  the  o  in  prison  tends  t» 
disappear  at  once  when  we  turn  prison  into  prisoner  (pris'ner). 

Examples  of  such  loss  abound  : 

Before  I— devilish  (iii.  P.  33) ;  perilous  (i.  P.  22) ;  heartily  (ii.  2. 

159)- 

Before  m— enemy  (ii.  2.  168);  ceremony  (iv.  I.  223,  224,  250). 
But  cer'embny  (iv.  I.  228,  236,  262). 

Before  n — opening  (i.  2.  16) ;  gardeners  (ii.  4.  39) ;  prisoner  (i.  2. 
162);  reckoning^.  I.  275);  Anthony  (iv.  8.  89);  ordinance  (iii.  F. 
26);  business  (i.  2.  303).  But  in  full  prisoners'  (iv.  6.  37);  ordinance 
(ii.  4.  83). 

Before  r:  desperate  (iv.  2.  39),  emperor  (v.  P.  38),  general  (v.  P.  30), 
every  (ii.  4.  89),  natural  (iv.  I.  13),  Salisbury  (iv.  3.  Ii),  Katharine 
(v.  2.  4),  barbarous  (iii.  5.  4),  temporal  (i.  I.  9). 

But  sovereign  (i.  2.  97),  gen'erar  (i.  2.  66),  em'peror"  (i.  2.  76), 
his' lory'  (i.  2. 230),  me'mora'ble  (ii.  4. 53),  armorers  (iv.  P.  12),  mea'sur- 


240  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

ing  (\.  2.  268),  nafurat  (ii.  P.  19),  luxury"  (iii.  5.  6),  Salisbury*  (iv.  3. 
54),  .Mercuries*  (ii.  P.  7). 
The  full  forms  are  again  chiefly  found  at  the  end  of  a  line. 

§  3.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  before  1,  m,  n,  r  final. 

A  stronger  case  occurs  where  the  vowel-sound  before  /,  m,  n,  t 
final  is  entirely  lost,  as  when  prison  becomes  first  frisn  (as  we  gener- 
ally pronounce  it)  and  then  prisn. 

We  have  such  cases 

Before  I — devil  (iv.  I.  12,  iv.  5.  22).  Possibly  in  this  word  the  i 
was  lost  (as  in  ever,  ffi'er),  and  the  pronunciation  was  not  deiSl,  but 
de'il.  Gentleman  (dissyllabic),  iv.  I.  42.  Brutl'  (ii.  3.  5).  But  dti'U 
(dissyllabic),  ii.  2.  106. 

Before  m — bosoms  (v.  2.  333)  (?).      But  dissyllabic  (2  P.  21,  &c.). 

Before  n — heaven  (i.  2.  183),  stolen  (iii.  6.  37),  given  (iii.  6.  41,  iv. 
7.  161),  even,  adv.  (ii.  4.  98,  138),  perhaps,  however,  not  ev'n,  but, 
as  often  written,  e'en.  On  the  other  hand,  as  dissyllables,  even, 
subs.  (iii.  I.  20),  adj.  (iv.  8.  103),  heaven  (i.  P.  2),  given  (i.  I.  10), 
taken  (i.  2.  160),  cousin  (i.  2.  4). 

Before  r— garter  (i.  I.  47),  deliver  (ii.  2.  177),  Master  (iv.  8.  88,  but 
in  1.  87  dissyllabic),  predecessor  (i.  2.  248),  daughter  (i.  2.  67). 

§  4.   Intrusion  of  a  new  unaccented  Vowel  through  r. 

The  obscure  vowel-sound  which   precedes  /,  m,  n,  r  may  give 
birth  to  a  vowel  forming  a  syllable.     In  the  modern  line 
"  By  schisms  rent  asunder" 

the  vowel  heard  before  the  m  of  schism  counts  as  a  syllable  in  the 
verse. 

The  vowel-like  r  causes  the  development  of  a  new  vowel  in  there, 
there  =  thJ-er,  th<!-er  (v.  P.  7),  therefore  =  thf-erfore  (i.  2.  183),  fierce 
-fi^-erce  (ii.  4.  99). 

On  the  other  hand  fire  (i.  P.  i,  i.  2.  131),  sire  (ii.  4.  57),  hours 
(i.  I.  156)  are  monosyllabic,  andyfory  (iv.  I.  237)  dissyllabic. 

§  5.  Loss  of  final  vowel  before  initial  vowel  of  the  next 
word. 

The  final  vowel  of  the  and  to  was  probably  often  suppressed  al- 
together before  an  initial  vowel,  as  is  indicated  by  the  spellings  M' 
(common),  and  /'  (occasional),  e.g.  tV  accomplishment,  i.  P.  30;  tk' 
eleventh,  i.  I.  2;  tlf  offending,  i.  I.  29;  t/t'  ill,  i.  2.  154;  tK  other, 
iv.  8.  104. 

to  envelope,  i.  I.  30;  to  invade,  i.  2.  136;  to  appoint,  v.  2.  79.  But 
without  loss  of  the  final  vowel,  the  issue,  v.  2.  12;  the  usurper, 
i.  2.  78;  to  imbar,  i.  2.  94,  &c. 

Other  final  vowels  rather  formed  a  diphthong  with  the  initial 
vowel  of  the  next  word,  as 

man'  \  y  a  thou'  \  sand  wi'dows  (i.  2.  284). 
See  §  6  (2). 


APPENDIX   III.  241 

§  6.  Slurring  or  consonantization  of  an  unaccented  Vowel 
before  a  Vowel  in  the  same  word  or  in  the  next  word. 

(1)  In  the  same  word. 

An  unaccented  vowel  preceding  a  vowel  in  the  same  word,  with 
secondary  accent,  often  ceases  to  form  a  syllable,  through  conson- 
antization or  slurring.  Thus  doll '-i-c?nce  becomes  dall'-yance. 

Words  in  -don,  -tion,  -sion,  -cious,  &c.,  undergo  a  further  change, 
c,  t,  s  combining  with  the  consonantalized  i  to  produce  the  sound  sh 
or  zh.  So  incision  becomes  insi-zhon,  gracious,  gra-shons,  &c. 

Shakespeare  uses  both  the  full  and  the  contracted  forms  of  these 
words,  but  the  former  by  preference.  Once  again,  the  long  forms 
occur  most  frequently  at  the  end  of  a  line. 

Examples  of  contracted  forms  from  this  play  are  Gallia,  marriage, 
celestial,  imperial,  Christian,  Gordian,  allegiance,  dalliance,  valiant, 
familiar,  conscience,  expedience,  sufficient,  soldier,  merriest,  signieur, 
Hyferion,  suspicion,  legion,  incision,  fashion  (Fr.  fafon),  action,  com- 
plexion, chariot,  gracious,  contagious,  licentious,  glorious,  Elysium, 
lineal,  ocean,  gorgeous,  followers,  following,  continual,  spirituality, 
superfluous,  worrying,  emptying. 

The  following  forms  occur  uncontracted : — impe'rial^  Cris'piaif 
(once non-final,  iv.  3.  57),  Crispian'us,val'iant',eon'sci£nce,correc'tion\ 
approbation1 ,  mil'liori,  warrior?,  religious*,  glo'rious,  o'cean\  fol'- 
lowers'. 

(2)  In  the  next  word,  e.g.  iv.  8.  115, 

That  God'  |  fought  for"  |  us.     Do'  |  we  all  ho'  |  ly  rites'. 

§  7.  Development  of  a  vowel  i,  from  consonant  i  (  =  y)  (from 
the  French  /  mattiHe"). 

The  opposite  process  to  the  last  is  seen  in  the  word  pavil'iort,  iv. 
I.  27,  where  the  consonant  i,  representing  the  mouillt  sound  (Fr. 
pavilion},  has  become  a  vowel,  and  forms  a  syllable. 

This  is  not  so  with  galliard  (Fr.  gaillarde),  i.  2.  252;  culfions  (O.F. 
couillon),  iii.  2.  18;  pavilioned,  i.  2.  129. 

§  8.  Loss  of  an  unaccented  vowel  following  an  accented 
vowel. 

Examples  -.—puissance,  iii.  P.  21 ;  puissant,  i.  2.  116,  &c.  by  puis- 
sance, i.  P.  25,  ii.  2.  190;  Lewis  (monosyl.),  i.  2.  76,  77,  88;  royalty, 
v.  2.  5;  being,  ii.  2.  116,  &c.;  heroical,  ii.  4.  59;  lower,  v.  P.  29; 
powers,  i.  2.'  107,  &c.;  fiery,  iv.  I.  237.  But  in  full,  powers,  i.  2.  217; 
prayers,  iv.  2.  56;  loyal,  i.  2.  127;  royal,  i.  2.  196;  loyalty,  ii.  2.  5; 
royalty,  iii.  P.  5. 

Probably  in  iii.  7.  145,  two  o'clock,  the  cj  was  suppressed  or  slurred 
after  the  long  vowel. 

(M178)  <J 


242  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

§  g.  Contraction  of  two  vowels  into  one  on  the  loss  of  an 
intervening  consonant. 

In  all  clear  cases  the  consonant  lost  is  th  or  : ,  and  the  second 
vowel  is  followed  by  r  or  n. 

The  adv.  even  is  monosyllabic  in  83  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  and 
the  freijuent  spelling  e'en  shows  that  the  v  was  syncopated,  not 
slurred.  See  §  3  above.  So  ii.  4.  98,  138.  Even  as  adj.  (iv.  8.  102) 
or  subs.  (iii.  I.  20)  is  dissyllabic.  So  fvert  nn-er,  over,  often  written 
e'er,  ne'er,  o'er;  e.g.,  e'er,  neer,  iv.  8.  119,  o'er,  i.  2.  203,  &c. ,  (but 
over,  iv.  6.  24). 

The  -th-  is  usually  lost  in  -whether  (often  written  where),  u'hither, 
either,  rather,  e.g.  either,  iii.  P.  31.  But  either  as  pronoun  (ii.  2.  106), 
adj.  (iv.  P.  5),  is  a  dissyllable. 

Under  this  head  we  may  class  the  contractions  of  the  personal  pro- 
nouns with  the  verbs,  will,  would,  have,  the  intervening  w  or  h  being 
lost  These  contractions  are  often  not  expressed  in  writing,  ffe'th 
=  he  hath,  i.  2.  264;  I've,  v.  2.  24;  they're,  iv.  2.  56;  /'//,  iv.  3.  6; 
we'll,  iii.  3.  56;  you' Id,  i.  I.  42;  they 'Id  (probably),  i.  2.  91. 

So  in  the  word  toward,  monosyl.,  iv.  i.  284  (but  toward,  iii.  6.  161). 

Lastly,  the  phrase  God  be  wi' ye,  through  loss  of  the  w,  becomes  God 
buy.  In  iv.  3.  6,  the  Folios  have  God  buy" you.  See  note  on  the  line. 

§  10.  Loss  of  a  final  consonant  causing  syllabic  lightening. 

Examples  are  wi'  ~  with,  iv.  3.  6  (see  §  9  above) ;  o'  —  of,  iv.  7.  162 ; 
f  —  in,  v.  i.  73.  In  i.  2.  284  it  is  possible  that  that  shall  was  short- 
ened to  thats',  with  loss  of  a  syllable.  Cp.  thou  'se  —  thou  shall,  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  i.  3.  9;  I'se—I  shall,  Lear,  iv.  6.  246  (in  dialect). 

B.  VARIATIONS  OF  PRONUNCIATION  IN  REGARD  TO  THE 
ACCENT  OF  WORDS. 

In  Shakespeare's  time  the  word-accent  was  in  the  main  fixed  ;  even 
Romance  words  exhibit  only  few  traces  of  the  conflict  between 
Romance  and  Germanic  accentuation  which  gave  variety  to  the 
!anguage  of  Chaucer. 

There  was  still,  however,  fluctuation  (as  even  now)  in  the  accent- 
uation of  compounds  and  prefix -derivatives  of  both  Germanic  and 
Romance  origin.  In  the  first  case  the  fluctuations  arose  from  the 
compound  or  derivative  being  felt,  now  as  a  single  word  (with  accent 
usually  on  \.he/irs(  syllable),  now  as  a  group  of  words  with  accent  on 
the  most  important,  which  was  usually  not  the  first.  In  Romance 
words  fluctuation  extended  further. 

§  i.  Germanic  Words. 

We  have  varying  stresses,  as  heart' -grief,  ii.  2.  27,  but  (apparently) 
heart-string',  iv.  I.  47;  war-proof,  iii.  I.  18 ;  forehand' ',  iv.  I.  264, 
but,  compounded  with  a  participle,  fort-said,  i.  2.  84;  run-cri>ays'  (?), 
iii.  5.  35 ;  out' side  (subs.),  ii.  4.  37;  tdward,  iii.  6.  161 ;  but  as  monosyl., 
iv.  I.  284;  U'ith'out,  iv.  8.  101;  underneath,  i.  I.  60  (?). 


APPENDIX   IV.  243 

§  2.  Romance  Words. 

In  some  cases  of  words  derived  from  Latin  Shakespeare  retains 
the  original  accent,  while  we  have  thrown  the  accent  back  according 
to  the  English  accentuation:  e.g.  sinister,  ii.  4.  85;  asplct,  iii.  i.  9; 
precepts,  iii.  3.  26 ;  executor  (or  executor},  i.  2.  203.  But  executor,  iv. 
2.  51.  The  influence  of  the  Latin  accent  is  seen  in  perdurable,  iv.  5.  7; 
peremptory,  v.  2.  82.  Shakespeare  also  keeps  the  original  accent  in 
the  French  words  exploits,  i.  2.  121;  inervailous,  ii.  I.  43. 

Occasionally  Shakespeare  throws  the  accent  back,  while  in  Mod.  E, 
it  remains  on  its  original  syllable ;  e.g.  relapse  (subs.),  iv.  3.  107. 


APPENDIX    IV. 

VERBS    IN    THE    SINGULAR    FORM    WITH 
PLURAL   SUBJECTS    IN    SHAKESPEARE. 

I  AGREE  with  Dr.  Abbott  as  against  Mr.  Wright  in  holding  that  on 
the  evidence  of  the  Ff.  and  Qq.  we  are  justified  in  concluding  that 
a  verb  in  the  singular  form  was  rfiy  often  used  by  Shakespeare  -with  a 
plural  subject,  and  that  therefore  we  should  hesitate  to  treat  such 
cases  as  misprints  and  alter  the  text.  I  give  here  the  cases  occurring 
in  this  play  (excluding  Fluellen's  speeches),  and  adopt  Dr.  Abbott's 
classification  (247,  333-336). 

(a)  Cases  of  inflexion  in  -s  with  two  singular  nouns  as  subject — 
i.  2.  119,     "The  blood  and  courage  that  renowned  him 

Runt  in  your  veins  ". 

Here  "blood  and  courage"  standing  after  one  article  may  be  con- 
sidered a  singular  notion. 

iv.  P.  2,     "When  creeping  murmur  and  the  poring  dark 

Fills...". 
iy-  5-  5»     "  Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 

Sits...". 

Cp.  Richard  II.,  ii.  3.  5,  where  each  of  the  two  nouns  forming  the 
subject  is  itself  plural.     With  these  I  include  an  inflexion  in  -th — 
ii.  2.  9  (Pistol),     "And  sword  and  shield... 
Doth  win...". 

(i>)  Cases  of  inflexion  in  -s  where  a  plural  subject  follows  the  verb. 
Here  it  may  be  considered  that  at  the  moment  of  writing  the  verb, 
the  subject  has  not  been  determined  in  the  mind.  These  cases  are 
»ery  common. 

iv.  4.  74, "there  is  none... but  boys". 

i.  2.  244,  "as  is  our  wretches".     (Qq.  "are".) 

ii.  4.  i,  "  Thus  comes  the  English". 


244  KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH. 

(Cp.  Richard  II.,  Hi.  4.  24,  "  Here  comes  the  gardeners",  a  Henry 
VI.,  ii.  I.  68,  "Here  comes  the  townsmen".) 

(<•)  Cases  of  Inflexion  in  -s  with  a  relative  pronoun  as  subject 
whose  antecedent  is  plural. 

i.  2.  28,  "the  swords  that  makes...". 

ii.  4.  80,  "  the... glories  that... longs....". 

Cp.  Cymbeline,  ii.  3.  24,  "springs... that  lies"  (where  the  reading 
"lies"  is  necessary  to  the  rhyme). 

With  these  I  include  an  inflexion  in  -th. 

L  P.  9,  "spirits... that  hath  dared"  (F.  4.  reads  "spirit"). 

((/)  Cases  of  inflexion  in  -s  when  the  subject  is  a  plural  subs, 
preceding. 

i.  2.  27,  "whose  wrongs  gives..."  (later  Ff.  "wrong"). 

iv.  i.  268,  "whose  hours  the  peasant  best  advantages". 

Mr.  Wright  thinks  that  the  intrusion  of  the  sing.  obj.  "the  pea- 
sant "  tends  to  make  the  verb  singular.  I  should  think  its  tendency 
would  be  the  other  way,  as  a  writer  naturally  desires  not  to  be  am- 
biguous. Possibly,  however,  in  both  instances  the  verbs  are  influenced 
by  the  singular  antecedents  of  "  whose  ",  namely  "  him  "  and  "  the 
peace".  See  note  on  iv.  i.  268. 

Assuming  then  that  there  was  a  disposition  to  use  the  inflexions 
in  -s  and  -th  with  a  plural  subject,  especially  in  certain  connexions 
(though  the  sense  of  grammatical  propriety  eventually  overcame  it), 
and  that  this  disposition  was  shared  by  Shakespeare  himself,  as  is 
proved  conclusively  by  his  rhymes,  we  may  now  ask  if  there  was  any 
cause  to  account  for  these  facts?  The  cause  probably  lies  in  the 
grammatical  confusion  caused  by  the  influence  of  one  dialect  upon 
another.  In  M.E.  in  the  Northern  dialect  the  plural  of  the  pres.  ind. 
of  the  verb  had  -J  throughout.  We  see  traces  of  this  in  modern 
Lowland  Scotch,  e.g.  in  Hogg's  song,  "  When  the  kye  comes  hame". 
In  the  Southern  dialect  the  termination  was  -//i.  If  then  a  Northerner 
said,  "they  comes",  and  a  Southerner,  "they  hath",  Londoners 
might  well  grow  accustomed  to  some  confusion  of  forms.  This 
explanation  is  suggested  by  Dr.  Abbott,  §  332. 


GLOSSARY. 


alarum  (iv.  6.  35),  an  alarm 
sounded  on  the  trumpet.  A  variant 
form  of  alarm,  M.  E.  alarme,  F. 
alarme,  Ital.  all' arme,  to  arms! 
<  Lat.  adilla  arma,  to  those  arms ! 

ancient  (ii.  i.  3,  &c.),  ensign, 
standard-bearer.  An  earlier  form 
of  the  title  was  '  Ancient-bearer ', 
the  '  ancient '  being  the  standard. 
The  word  is  a  corrupted  form  of 
ensign,  whose  M.E.  form  enseigne 
(from  the  O.  F.  enseigne,  Low  Lat. 
insigna,  Lat.  insigne,  a  standard) 
became  confused  with  ancyen,  old, 
(Low  Lat.  antianus}.  Then  this 
form  in  both  senses  became  ancient 
by  developing  an  excrescent  -/. 

antics  (iii.  2.  28),  grotesque 
figures,  buffoons.  Cp.  i  Henry 
VI.,  iv.7.  18," Thou  antic  Death". 
From  Ital.  antico,  a  word  applied 
to  groiesque  figures  in  old  sculp- 
ture, <  Lat.  antiquus,  old. 

argument  (iii.  i.  21;  iv.  i.  136), 
subject  of  consideration.  From 
O.  F.  argument,  <  Lat.  argumen- 
tum,  a  form  of  proof.  In  Mod.  E. 
the  meaning  of  the  word  has  di- 
verged further  from  its  Latin  sense, 
though  we  still  speak  of  the  '  argu- 
ment' of  a  play,  'i.e.  the  story  or 
subject  of  which  it  treats. 

arrant  (iii.  6.  58;  iv.  7.  131), 
thorough -paced.  A  variant  of 
errant  (cp.  parson  and  person. 
Varsity  and  University,  &c.). 
Errant,  from  O.F.  errer,  Lat.  tier- 
are,  to  travel,  first  meant  '  vaga- 
bond '  (in  which  sense  Chaucer  has 
theef  erraunt),  and  then  became 
a  mere  intensive  of  'rascal',  &c.  = 
'thorough-paced '. 


basilisks  (v.  2.  17),  large  can- 
non. Cp.  i  Henry  IV.,  ii.  3.  56 — 

"  Of  basilisks,  of  cannon,  culverin". 

These  cannon  took  their  name 
from  the  fabulous  serpent,  called 
a  basilisk  or  cockatrice,  whose 
glance  was  considered  deadly. 
Cp.  Richard  III.,  i.  2.  150,  151 — 
"Clou.  Thine  eyes,  sweet  lady,  have  in- 
fected me. 

kiltie.  Would  they  were  basilisks  to  strike 
thee  dead ! " 

The  word  basilisk  is  from  the  Gr. 
basiliskos,  a  serpent  with  a  crest 
on  its  head  resembling  a  crown, 
from  basileus,  a  king. 

bawcock  (iii.  2.  22;  iv.  i.  44), 
fine  fellow,  beauty.  From  the 
French  beau  coq,  fine  cock,  fine 
bird. 

beaver  (iv.  2.  44),  the  face- 
guard  of  a  helmef  —  sometimes 
used  for  the  helmet  itself.  The 
beaver  sometimes  consisted  of 
three  overlapping  plates  of  metal, 
perforated  for  purposes  of  sight, 
which  were  drawn  up  over  the  face 
in  battle.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
beaver  was  sometimes  let  down 
from  above,  as  is  shown  by  Hamlet, 
i.  2.  230— 

"  he  wore  his  beaver  up"; 

and  2  Henry  IV.,  iv.  i.  120— 

"  their  beavers  down. 

Their  eyes  of  fire  sparkling  through  sights  of 
steel". 

The  word  was  originally  baviere, 
from  O.F.  bavitre,  a  child's  bib, 
and  so  a  defence  for  the  lower 
part  of  the  face,  from  O.F.  bave, 
foam,  slaver. 

bent  (v.  2.  16),  direction.  The 
word  is  derived  from  the  past 


24° 


KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 


part,  of  the  verb  bend  (O.  E 
bendan),  as  rent  (a  tear)  from  the 
past  part,  of  rend.  These  forma- 
tions may  have  been  influenced 
by  the  Norman  -  French  forms, 
descend,  verb ;  descent,  subs.  &c. 
Bent,  in  archery,  means  (i)  the 
tension  or  stretch  of  the  bow,  (a) 
its  direction  or  aim.  From  (i) 
comes  the  sense  'stretch',  'com- 
pass', 'tension',  in  reference  to 
the  mind;  cp.  Hamlet,  iii.  2.  401 — 

"  they  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent ". 

iv.  3.  47— 

"  everything  at  bent  for  England  "  .    (So 
the  ft) 

(2)  the  sense  '  inclination ',  '  direc- 
tion', in  reference  either  to  the  eye 
(as  here),  or  to  the  mind,  as  when 
we  say,  '  He  has  a  bent  for  art'. 

beahrew  (v.  2.  214),  a  curse 
upon;  lit.  '(I)  curse".  Used  half- 
seriously.  Cp.  Merchant  of  I  'enice, 
ii.  6.  52— 

"  Beshrew  me  but  I  love  her  heartily"; 

and  Chaucer,  Canterbury  Tales, 
D844— 

"  I  bishrcwe  me 
But  ... 
That  I  shal  make  thyn  hertc  for  to  morne". 

The  word  comes  from  the  M.  E. 
bischrewen,  beschrewcn,  to  curse, 
formed  with  the  prefix  hi-  or  be-, 
from  schrewe,  adj.  and  subs., 
wicked,  wicked  one,  from  O.  E. 
scrtawa,  a  shrew-mouse,  reported 
to  have  a  very  venomous  bite. 

shrewdly  (iii.  7.  44.  &c.), 
badly.  Shrewd  originally  ^ac- 
cursed, being  the  past  part,  of 
M.  E.  schrewen,  to  curse.  See 
above. 

boulted  (ii.  2.  137),  sifted.  Cp. 
Winter 's  Tale,  iv.  4.  135 — 

"  the  fanned  snow  that's  boulted 
By  the  northern  blasts". 

From  O.  Fr.  butter  (now  bluter], 
or  buleter,  to  sift.  Buleter  stands 
probably  for  bureler,  and,  if  so,  is 
derived  from  O.  Fr.  bure,  coarse 
cloth,  which  was  used  for  sifting. 
Boult  is  often  wrongly  spelt  bolt. 


bully  (iv.  i.  48),  a  jolly,  dashing 
fellow.  Cp.  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,  iii.  i.  7,  "bully  Bottom". 
Often  used  as  a  term  of  address 
implying  friendly  admiration,  as 
in  Merry  Wii>es,  iii.  3.  18,  "  Bless 
thee,  bully  Doctor".  Perhaps  from 
Dutch  boel,  a  lover;  cp.  the  Ger. 
buhle,  a  lover. 

buxom  (iii.  6.  24),  brisk,  ready. 
From  M.  E.  boxom,  buhsum,  liter- 
ally 'bow-some',  pliable,  from 
O.  E.  bugan,  to  bow,  and  -sum, 
suffix,  as  in  win-some.  From  the 
sense  '  pliable ',  the  word  came  to 
mean  'good-natured',  'jolly',  and 
so,  physically,  'full  of  life  and 
health ',  and  finally,  '  with  a 
comely  stoutness '. 

career  (ii.  i.  116;  iii.  3.  23). 
The  word  career  (from  O.  F. 
cariere,  a  road,  from  late  Lat. 
carraria  (via),  a  carriage-way, 
from  carrus,  a  waggon),  seems  to 
have  meant  at  first  in  English  'a 
course  chosen  for  galloping  a  horse 
at  full  speed '.  '  To  pass  the 
careers '  would  then  mean,  to  gal- 
lop a  horse  over  this  distance.  I 
doubt,  however,  if  the  phrase  as 
used  in  ii.  i.  1 16  contains  any  refer- 
ence to  this  sense.  Careen  here 
=. '  wild  courses ',  '  frolics ',  as 
career  in  iii.  3.  23= '  wild  course '. 

chrisom  child  (ii.  3.  n,  'christoin 
child '),  a  child  in  its  first  month, 
or  a  child  that  dies  in  its  first  month. 
Chrisom  is  explained  in  Blount's 
Glossographia  (1681)  as  meaning 
a  white  cloth  which  in  Catholic 
times  was  set  by  the  minister  on 
the  head  of  a  child  newly  anointed 
after  baptism.  [The  word  is  de- 
rived through  the  Lat.  chrisma, 
from  the  Gk.  chrisma,  anointing- 
oil.]  After  the  custom  of  anointing 
had  been  discontinued,  the  chri- 
som, or  white  cloth,  was  still  put 
on  the  child  in  token  of  its  bap- 
tism, and  in  this  the  child  was 
shrouded  if  it  died  within  a  month 
of  being  baptized.  The  child  thus 


GLOSSARY. 


247 


buried  in  its  baptismal  cloth  was 
then  itself  called  a  chrisom. 

complement  (ii.  2.  134),  the 
final  touch  to  the  man,  his  out- 
ward finish.  Cp.  A.  Day,  English. 
Secretarie  (1586),  "One  whose 
birth,  education,  or  other  comple- 
ments...", and  Merry  Wives,  iv. 
2.  5,  "Not  only... in  the  simple 
office  of  love,  but  in  all  the  ac- 
coutrement, complement,  and  cere- 
mony of  it".  From  Lat.  comple- 
mentunt,  'that  which  completes', 
from  complere,  to  fill. 

corantos  (iii.  5.  33),  running 
dances,  gallops.  From  French 
courante  or  Ital.  coranta,  both  in 
the  sam^  sense.  From  Lat.  cur- 
rentem,  pres.  participle  of  curro, 
I  run. 

coxcomb  (v.  i.  38),  head.  From 
'  cock's  comb '.  The  word  means 
(i)  a  fool's  cap,  a  cap  with  a  cock's 
crest ;  (2)  jocularly,  the  head ;  (3) 
as  we  use  it,  a  fool,  a  vain  fellow. 

cue  (iii.  6.  115),  a  stage  expres- 
sion, meaning  the  last  words  of 
one  actor's  speech  which  are  the 
signal  for  the  next  actor  to  join 
in.  The  word  is  commonly  de- 
rived from  the  Fr.  queue,  a  tail, 
but  French  actors  seem  never  to 
have  used  queue,  but  always  rl- 
plique,  in  the  sense  of  cue.  Some 
have  derived  cue  from  the  letter  Q 
which  they  suppose  to  have  been 
used  in  play  books  for  ~La\.Quando, 
'when',  but  this  is  not  supported 
by  evidence.  We  must  leave  the 
origin  of  the  word  unexplained. 

curtle-axe  (iv.  2.  21),  a  cutlass 
or  short  sword.  A  perversion  of 
cutlass,  which  is  from  Fr.  coutelas, 
a  cutlass,  an  augmentative  of  O.  F. 
coutel,  a  knife  (giving  the  Mod.  F. 
couteau),  earlier  cultel,  from  Lat. 
ace.  cultellum,  a  knife,  dim.  of 
culter,  a  knife.  The  form  curtle- 
axe  is  due  to  the  popular  tendency 
to  find  a  native  sense  in  foreign 
words,  the  tendency  which  turns 


asparagus  into  '  sparrow  -  grass ' 
and  asphalte  into  'ash-felt'. 

dear  (ii.  2.  181,  &c.),  grievous, 
heartfelt.  Cp.  King  John,  i.  i 
257— 

"Thou  art  the  issue  of  my  dear  offence* 

Richard  II. ,  i.  3.  151 — 

"  thy  dear  exile**. 

2  Henry  IV.,  iv.  5.  141 — 

"  this  dear  and  deep  rebuke". 

Hamlet,  i.  2.  182 — 

"  my  dearest  foe*. 

Dear  in  this  sense  is  derived  (ac- 
cording to  Murray)  from  the  O.E. 
dlor,  hard,  grievous,  although  it 
was  probably  associated  in  the 
minds  of  Elizabethan  writers  with 
dear,  O.E.  deore,  precious.  The 
meanings  of  the  two  words  meet 
in  the  sense  '  heartfelt '. 

dout  (iv.  2.  ii),  put  out.  From 
do  out.  Compare  doff='do  off', 
don—  'do  on',  dup='do  up'. 
Hamlet,  iv.  5.  52,  53 — 

"  Then  up  he  rose  and  donn'd  his  clothes 
And  dupp'd  the  chamber-door". 

dress  (iv.  i.  10),  prepare.  Cp. 
Chaucer,  Man  of  Lawes  Tale,  B 
265— 

"  distance  .  .  . 

dresseth  hir  to  wende  "  (prepareth  herself 
to  go). 

From  Fr.  dresser,  to  direct,  pre- 
pare, from  Low  Lat.  drictiare, 
dirictiare  (to  direct)  from  Lat. 
directus,  straight. 

addrest  (iii.  3.  58)  in  readi- 
ness. From  Fr.  adresser,  to 
direct,  Low  Lat.  addrictiare 
(ad  =  towards).  See  above. 

echo  (iii.  P.  35),  eke.  Both  eche 
and  eke  are  from  O.  E,  tcan,  to 
increase  (connected  with  the  Lat. 
augere,  to  increase).  The  relation 
between  the  forms  eche  and  eke  is 
the  same  as  between  '  church '  and 
'kirk',  'ache'  (as  sounded  in  Tem- 
pest, i.  2.  370)  and  '  ache '  (sounded 
'  ake ' ).  In  each  case  the  first  form 
represents  the  southern,  and  the 
second  form  the  northern  dialect. 


248 


KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 


erst  (v.  i.  48),  formerly.  O.  E. 
Jtral,  soonest,  superl.  of  &r.  soon 
(corresponding  to  the  Ger.  eker, 
before).  From  ekr  come  the  forms 
ere,  or,  before  (see  iv.  i.  275,  «.), 
and  the  compound  early. 

farced  (iv.  i.  247).  stuffed,  <Fr. 
farcir,  I^at.  farcire,  to  stuff. 
Hence  come  the  modern  farce, 
properly  jests  introduced  into  a 
play,  and  forcemeat  ( —  '  farce- 
meat '),  stuffing. 

gage  (iv.  i.  199;  iv.  7.  114),  a 
pledge  to  fight.  From  O.  F.  gage, 
verbal  subs,  of  gager,  to  wager, 
from  Low  Lat.  wadiare  (which 
gives  also  earlier  French  forms, 
wager,  wage,  whence  come  the 
English  wager,  wage].  The  Low 
Lat.  wadiare  is  formed  from  a 
subs,  wadium,  a  pledge,  and  this 
from  a  Germanic  word  wadi  — 
O.K.  wed,  a  pledge,  and  akin  to 
the  Lat.  vas,  vadis,  a  pledge. 

galliard  (i.  i.  252),  a  lively 
dance,  "with  lofty  turnes  and 
capriols  in  the  ay  re"  (Sir  J.  Davies, 
Orchestra).  From  Fr.  gaillarde, 
lively,  merry. 

gamester  (iii.  6.  104),  player. 
The  suffix  -iter  (O.K.  -estre)  ori- 
ginally denoted  a  feminine  agent. 
Thus  O.E.  beecere,  baker,  had  a 
feminine  boecestre,  a  female  baker. 
(The  form  survives  in  the  surname, 
'Baxter'.)  This  feminine  force 
remains  in  spinster.  But  -ster  lost 
its  exclusively  feminine  force,  and 
was  added  to  stems  (as  here  in 
gamester)  merely  as  a  sign  of  the 
agent. 

gimmal  (iv.  2.  49),  double,  or 
consisting  of  double  rings.  A  bye- 
form  of  gimmal  is  Gemow  or  Gim- 
mew.  A  '  Gemow  ring '  was  one 
"with  two  or  more  linkes"  (Min- 
sheu),and  'gimmews'were"joynts 
of  a  spur  "  ( Howell's  Lexicon  Tetra- 
glotton).  This  was  corrupted  into 
gimmers,  a  word  used  in  old 


Cambridge  appraising  books  for 
'  hinges '.  Mr.  Wright  infers  that 
a  gimmal  bit  is  a  bit  in  two  por- 
tions, which  work  together  like  the 
hinges  of  a  door  or  the  two  parts 
of  a  gimmal  ring.  We  may  com- 
pare with  the  spelling  lymoid  of 
the  Ff.,  King  Edward  III.,  ii.  a. 
' '  Nor  lay  aside  their  jacks  of  gy- 
mold  mail  ".  Gemow  and  gimmal 
correspond  to  the  F.  gemeau, 
gemtlle,  masc.  and  fern,  forms = 
'  twin ',  from  Lat.  gemellus,  a  twin. 

gloze  (i.  2.  40),  paraphrase,  in- 
terpret. The  word  commonly  im- 
plies falsehood  or  Mattery.  Cp. 
Richard  II.,  ii.  i.  10 — 

"they  whom  youth  and  ease  have  taught  to 
glose". 

From  M.  E.  glosen,  to  make 
'glosses',  interpret,  <  M.  E.  and 
O.  F.  glose,  a  gloss,  paraphrase  of 
a  word  or  passage,  <  Lat.  glossa, 
a  word  needing  explanation,  <Gk. 
glossa,  which  —  (i)  the  tongue,  (2) 
a  language,  (3)  a  word  needing 
explanation. 

groat  (v.  i.  52),  a  fourpenny 
piece.  From  M.E.  grote,  M.  Low 
Ger.  grote,  a  coin  of  Bremen,  so 
called  because  larger  than  other 
coins  used  there,  the  word  mean- 
ing properly  'great'.  (Cp.  Dutch, 
groot,  great;  cognate  with  E.  great.) 

haggled  o'er  (iv.  6.  10),  hacked 
about.  Haggle  is  a  weakened  form 
of  hackle,  frequentative  of  hack, 
(O. E.  haccian,  to  hack.)  We  now 
use  '  haggle '  in  the  sense  of  '  chaf- 
fering '  over  a  bargain.  For  Shake- 
speare's use  Richardson  quotes 
Wood's  Fasti  Oxonienses,  i.  183 — 

"  they  abused  him  to  his  face,  and  with  their 
knives  would  cut  and  haggle  his  gown'. 

hilding  (iv.  2.  29),  mean,  con- 
temptible. Cp.  2  Henry  IV.,  i.  i, 
57— 

"  He  was  some  hilding  fellow  that  had  stolen 
The  horse  he  rode  on  ". 

The  word  is  more  commonly  in 
Shakespeare  a  subs.  = '  a  menial ', 


GLOSSARY. 


249 


used  of  both  sexes.     The  deriva- 
tion is  uncertain. 

humour  ( ii.  i.  48,  &c. ).  The  word 
is  derived  from  O.F.  humor,  Lat. 
ace.  humorem,  moisture.  Four 
'humours'  were  thought  in  the 
Middle  Ages  to  cause  the  four  tem- 
peraments, viz.:  choleric,  melan- 
cholic, phlegmatic,  and  sanguine. 
If  one  humour  was  in  excess,  a 
man  became  'humorous',  i.e.  odd, 
whimsical.  So  a  man's 'humours' 
were  his  whims  or  individual  pecu- 
liarities. Shakespeare  by  means 
of  Nym  ridicules  a  fashion  of  his 
day  for  using  the  word  humour  on 
all  occasions.  Jonson,  in  the  in- 
duction to  his  play.  Every  Man 
out  of  his  Humour,  says  he  intro- 
duces the  subject, — 

"  To  give  these  ignorant,  well-spoken  days 
Some  taste  of  their  abuse  of  this  word, 
humour  ". 

See  also  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
ii.  i.  132,  &c. 

imp  (iv.  i.  45),  a  shoot  of  a  tree, 
scion.  Shakespeare  puts  the  word 
only  into  the  mouth  of  comic  char- 
acters. Pistol  applies  it  again  to 
Henry  in  2  Henry  IV.,  v.  5.  46, 
"  royal  imp  of  fame  ".  Now  used 
only  as  '  offspring  of  evil',  'demon'. 

0.  E.  and  M.  E.  impe,  a  graft  on 
a  tree,  O.  F.   impe  (according  to 
Skeat,  from  Low  Lat.  impetus,  a 
graft).    Shakespeare  uses  the  verb 
imp,    to    graft  =' to    supply  with 
fresh  feathers ',  in  Richard  II. ,  ii. 

1.  292 — 

"Imp  out  our   drooping  country's  broken 
wing". 

it  (v.  2.  40),  his  (i.  i.  36.  &c.)= 
'its'.  The  old  possessive  of  it 
(O.  E.  Ait)  was  his,  which  was 
therefore  as  much  a  neuter  as  a 
masculine  form.  This  is  the  form 
most  usual  in  Shakespeare  and  in 
our  Bible,  as  translated  in  1611. 
In  Shakespeare's  time  two  other 
forms  of  the  possessive  case  neuter 
were  in  use,  viz. ,  /'/  and  its.  For 
it  as  possessive,  cp.  Tempest,  ii.  i. 


163,  "of  it  own  kind";  Hamlet, 
i.  2.  216,  "it  lifted  up  it  head"; 
and  Leviticus,  xxv.  5,  originally, 
"of  it  owne  accord",  where  the 
form  'its'  has  since  crept  into  the 
place  of  '  it '.  The  possessive  its 
occurs  only  ten  times  in  Shake- 
speare (spelt  in  the  Ff.  '  it's').  It 
does  not  occur  in  the  Bible  of  161 1. 

jutty  (iii.  i.  13),  jut  out  beyond. 
The  verb  is  taken  from  the  subs. 
jutty,  an  alteration  of  jetty>  O.F. 
jetlee,  a  cast  or  throw  ("also  a 
jetty  or  jutty  ",  Cotgrave,  1611,  i.e. 
'  a  pier  thrown  out  into  the  sea ' ),  < 
O.  F.  jetter,  to  throw  (Mod.  F. 
Jeter),  <  Lat.  jactare,  to  throw. 

kecksies  (v.  2.  52),  hemlocks. 
The  word  is  also  used  in  a  more 
general  sense.  Mr.  Wright  (quotes 
from  Holland's  Pliny  (xviii.  7), 
'  a  kex  or  hollow  stem  '.  It  would 
seem  that  '  kecksies '  ought  to  be 
written  '  keckses  '  (or  '  kexes ' ), 
which,  according  to  Skeat,  is  it- 
self a  double  plural  from  '  keck  ', 
a  word  derived  from  the  Welsh. 

kern  (iii.  7.  49),  a  light-armed 
native  Irish  soldier,  a  heavy-armed 
man  being  called  a  gallowglass. 
Cp.  Macbeth,  i.  2.  12 — 

"  the  western  isles 
Of  kerns  and  gallon-glasses  ", 

and  2  Henry  VI.,  iii.  i.  367, 
"shag-headed  kern".  The  na- 
tives of  Ireland  were  at  this  time 
barbarians.  Kern  comes  from  a 
Gaelic  word  for  '  soldier '. 

lavolta  (iii.  5.  33),  a  dance 
somewhat  resembling  the  modern 
waltz,  mentioned  again  in  Troilus 
and  Cressida,  iv.  4.  88 — 

"  I  cannot  sing 
Nor  heel  the  high  lavolt  **. 

The  word  is  the  Italian  la  volfa, 
'  the  whirl '.  Volta  is  <  Lat. 
valuta,  perf.  part,  of  volvo,  I  roll. 
(From  the  O.  F.  volte,  the  corre- 
sponding form  to  the  Ital.  volta, 
comes  the  E.  vault,  an  arched 
chamber.) 


250 


KIXC;    HKNRY   THE   FIFTH. 


lasars  (i.  i.  15),  poor  people 
afflicted  with  leprosy  orother  loath- 
some diseases.  The  word  came 
into  English  from  the  Church  Latin 
latari,  lepers,  who  were  so  called 
front  Lazarus  in  the  Gospel. 

leas  (v.  2.  44),  used  elsewhere 
by  Shakespeare  only  in  Tempest. 
iv.  t.  60,  "rich  leas  of  wheat, 
rye,  ...',  and  Timon.  iv.  3.  193. 
' '  plough-torn  leas  " :  in  both  cases, 
as  here  = ' '  fields  of  arable  land  ". 
So  Piers  Plowman.  B.vii.  5,  "  eryen 
(  =  plough)  his  leyes".  The  word 
seems  originally  to  have  meant 
'  fallow  land  ' — cp.  Promftorium 
Parvulorum,  "  lay,  londe  not 
telyd"  (tilled) — though  we  have 
come  to  restrict  it  to  '  pasture '. 
From  O.  E.  Uah. 

liege  (ii.  4.  26) sovereign.  From 
M.  E.  lige,  liege,  O.  F.  lige,  liege, 
from  Old  High  Ger.  Udic,  free  to 
go,  free,  ^iege  was  used  in  the 
Middle  Ages  (as  here)  of  the  '  liege- 
lord  ',  and  also  of  his  '  free  com- 
panions '.  In  the  latter  use, 
however,  the  word  changed  in 
meaning,  perhaps  through  being 
popularly  connected  with  Lat. 
ligare.  to  bind.  So  we  speak 
of  '  Her  Majesty's  faithful  lieges', 
( =  subjects). 

maw  (ii.  r.  42),  stomach.  M.E. 
mawe,  <  O.  E.  maga,  cognate  with 
Ger.  magen,  stomach. 

methinks  (ii.  2.  141).  In  this 
expression  thinks  represents  the 
O.  E.  thyncth,  seems,  (Mod.  Ger. 
dunkt),  not  thencth,  thinks,  (Mod. 
Ger.  denkt),  and  me  is  in  the 
dative.  So  '  methinks '  =  '  it  seems 
to  me'. 

morris-dance  (iv.  4.  25).  Ac- 
cording to  Douce  (Illustrations  of 
Shakespeare,  Dissertation  iii. )  the 
morris  or  morisco-dance  was  in- 
troduced by  the  Moors  into  Spain. 
It  reached  England  about  the  time 
of  Henry  VII.  In  its  English  form 
it  seems  to  have  been  a  dance  in 


which  the  performer  had  his  face 
blackened  and  had  bells  attached 
to  different  pans  of  his  person. 
It  became  connected  with  the  May 
Games  in  which  figured  Robin 
Hood,  Maid  Marion,  Friar  Tuck. 
Little  John,  the  Fool,  the  Piper, 
the  Dragon,  and  the  Hobby-hors-^ 
and  seems  latterly  to  have  taken 
place  chiefly  at  V\  hitsuntide.  Cp. 
the  reference  to  the  morris-dancer 
in  2  Henry  VI..  iii.  i.  364 — 

"  :  hare  teen 

Him  caper  upright  like  *  wild  Morhco 
Shaking  the  bloody  darts  as  he  his  bells*. 

Morris  <  O.  F.  moresque  —  Span. 
morisco,  both  from  late  Lat.  A/or- 
iscus,  Moorish  <  Lat.  Maurus,  a 
Moor. 

nice,  nicely  (i.  2.  15;  v.  2.  94; 
v.  2.  256).  From  Lat.  nescium, 
ignorant,  came  O.  F.  nice,  simple. 
Hence  M.  E.  nice,  meaning  i, 
simple;  2,  (as  here)  fastidious, 
scrupulous,  precise ;  3,  (as  usually 
in  Mod.  E.)  pleasing. 

nook-shotten  (iii.  5.  14).  ap- 
parently =  full  of  corners,  in  allu- 
sion to  the  ins  and  outs  of  the 
English  coastline.  The  word  is 
found  in  modern  English  dialects. 
Nook  is  from  M.  E.  not,  a  corner. 
As  shotten  is  only  another  form  of 
the  past  part.  shot,  we  may  com- 
pare the  expression  bloodshot. 

odds  (ii.  4.  129;  iv.  3.  5),  subs, 
sing.,  inequality,  strife.  The  subs. 
odds  is  formed  from  the  adj.  odd, 
from  Icel.  oddi,  a  triangle,  odd 
number,  connected  with  O.E.  ord, 
point  of  a  sword,  and  Ger.  art  (a 
point),  place. 

(honour)-owing  (iv.  6.  9),  pos- 
sessing. The  verb  awe,  meaning 
(i)  to  possess,  (2)  to  be  bound  to 
pay  (its  only  meaning  in  late  Mod. 
E. ),  comes  from  M.E.  pres.  inf. 
oven,  awen  (used  in  the  same 
senses),  which  comes  from  O.  E. 
dgan,  to  possess.  From  dhte,  the 
past  tense  of  dgan  -  •  I  possessed ', 


GLOSSARY. 


251 


comes  our  ought,  I  am  bound  (of 
moral  obligation);  from  dgen,  its 
past  part.,  come  our  adj.  own 
(corresponding  to  Ger.  eigen),  and 
the  new  verb  own,  to  have  as  one's 
own,  to  possess. 

peevish  (iii.  7.  123),  childishly 
wayward  (?).  Cp.  Rit.hard  111., 
iv.  2.  ico — 

"When  Richmond  was  a  litt!e  peevish  boy  ", 

ssid  Julius  C&sar,  v.  i.  61,  "a 
peevish  schoolboy".  In  Piers 
Plowman,  C.  ix.  151,  'peyuesshe 
shrewe',  the  word  seems  to  have 
something  like  its  modern  meaning. 

pioners  (iii.  2.  78),  pioneers. 
From  F.  pionnier,  O.  F.  peonier,  a 
pioneer ;  an  extension  of  F.  pion, 
O.  F.  peon,  a  foot-soldier,  from  Low 
Lat.  pedonem,  ace.  of  pedo,  a  foot- 
soldier,  formed  from  the  stem  of 
pes,  a  foot.  From  O.  F.  peon,  which 
had  another  form,  paon,  comes  our 
pawn,  a  piece  at  chess,  and  hence 
pawn,  impawn,  to  pledge. 

(even)-pleach'd,  evenly -inter- 
woven. Cp.  Much  Ado,  iii.  i.  7, 
"Steal  into  the  pleached  bower". 
Pleach,  M.E.  plechen,  comes  from 
the  O.  F.  plessier,  to  '  plait  young 
branches',  &c.,  which  is  derived 
from  Lat.  plectere,  to  weave. 

rest  (ii.  i.  15).  undertaking. 
According  to  NKTCS'  Glossary,  a 
phrase  from  a  game  at  cards  called 
Primero.  By  rest  was  meant  the 
cards  on  which  you  stood  to  win 
(as  in  the  modern  game  Nap). 
'  To  set  up  one's  rest '  was  to  com- 
plete one's  hand  of  cards,  and 
stand  on  it;  so,  metaphorically,  'to 
set  up  one's  rest  to  do  anything* 
meant  to  take  upon  one  to  do  it. 
Cp.  Comedy  of  Errors,  iv.  3.  27, 
"he  that  sets  up  his  rest  to  do 
more  exploits  with  his  mace  than 
a  morris-pike  ". 

roping  (iii.  5.  23),  down-roping 
(iv.  2.  48),  running  down  slowly  in 


a  glutinous  thread  or  stream.  The 
word,  according  to  Skeat,  comes 
from  O.E.  rap,  a  rope.  Cp.  Skel- 
ton,  Elynour  Rumming — 

"  Her  lewde  lippes  twayne. 
They  slaver,  men  sayne. 
Like  a  ropy  rayne. 
A  gummy  glayre  ". 

( '  Glayre ',  lit.  = '  white  of  egg '. ) 

sad  (iv.  i.  285),  grave.  A  com- 
mon meaning  in  Shakespeare. 
Cp.  Much  Ado,  i.  3.  62,  '  in  sad 
conference'.  From  O.E.  j«rf,sated; 
cognate  with  Lat.  satis,  enough. 

scambling  (pres.  part.  i.  i.  4; 
subs.  v.  2.  196),  scrambling.  The 
form  scramble  is  not  found  in 
Shakespeare.  The  words  seem 
not  to  be  connected  etymologically. 

scauld  (v.  i.  5),  scabby,  scurvy. 
Formed  from  scall,  a  scab  on  the 
skin,  from  Icel.  skalli,  a  bald  head. 
\nAntonyandCleopatra,  v.  2.  215, 
we  have  "scald  rhymers". 

scions  (iii.  5.  7),  shoots,  cuttings 
(of  trees).  The  spelling  of  F.  i, 
syens,  is  truer  to  the  etymology, 
M.E.  sioun,  O.F.  sion  (which  has 
become  in  Mod.  F.  scion,  just  as 
the  O.F.  sier  has  become  in  Mod. 
F.  scier,  to  saw).  The  Latin  ori- 
ginal of  sier,  sion,  is  secare,  to  cut. 

sconce  (iii.  5.  68),  a  small  fort. 
The  word  is  also  applied  to  a 
helmet,  or  the  head  itself  (cp. 
Comedy  of  Errors,  i.  2.  79 — "I 
shall  break  that  merry  sconce  of 
yours  " ),  or  to  a  lantern.  Probably 
from  O.  F.  esconse,  hiding-place, 
lantern,  Lat.  absconsa  .irregular  past 
part,  of  abscondo,  I  hide.  From 
O.F.  esconse  was  formed  esconser, 
to  cover,  (our  'ensconce'). 

self  (i.  i.  i).  same.  Like  O.E. 
sylf,  self  in  Shakespeare  meant 
both  self  and  same.  Cp.  Lear, 
i.  i.  71 — 

"  I  am  made 
Of  that  self  metal  that  my  sister  is  ". 

So  in  Ger.  setter,  selbst,  self, 
derselbe,  the  same. 


252 


KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 


sennet  ,'v.  a.  352),  stage-dir. 
(F.  i.  tenet,  other  Ff.  sonet).  A 
sennet  appears  to  have  been  a 
particular  set  of  notes  on  a  trum- 
pet or  cornet  which  marked  the 
entrance  or  exit  of  a  procession, 
and  is  different  from  a  Nourish,  for 
in  Dekker's  Satiromastix  (1602) 
...we  have  "Trumpets  sound  a 
flourish,  and  then  a  sennet"  (Mr. 
Wright).  Cp.  G.  Markham,  Sout- 
diers  Accidence  (1625),  "Other 
Soundings  there  are ; . . .  a  Senet  for 
State".  The  word  appears  as 
"Sonnet"  in  Marlowe's  Doctor 
Faust  us,  and  it  takes  other  forms 
elsewhere.  Its  etymology  is  un- 
certain. 

shales  (iv.  2.  18),  shells.  Shales 
and  scales  (of  a  fish)  both  come 
from  the  O.  E.  scealu,  a  shell,  scale, 
as  shoal  and  school  from  O.  E. 
scdlu,  &c.  The  forms  in  sh  be- 
long properly  to  the  southern, 
those  in  sc  to  the  northern  dialect 
of  M.E. 

shog  (ii.  i.  38;  ii.  3.  43),  move 
off.  Nares  considers  shog,  M.E. 
shoggen,  the  same  word  as  jog, 
M.  E.  ioggen.  Steevens  quotes 
other  instances  of  shog  off  from 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 

sirrah  (iv.  7.  134),  sir  (used  to 
inferiors).  According  to  Skeat, 
from  Icel.  sira,  sirrah,  a  term  of 
contempt,  originally  used  in  a  re- 
spectful sense,  from  O.  F.  sire 
(which  gives  E.  sir),  a  weakened 
form  of  senre  from  Lat.  senior, 
older.  The  Lat.  ace.  seniorem, 
gives  the  Fr.  seigneur,  Ital.  signor, 
&c. 

skirr  (iv.  7.  55),  scurry,  hurry. 
Mr.  Wright  quotes  from  Hall's 
Chronicle  (ed.  1809,  p.  415),  "your 
...aduersaries...will  flee  ronne  & 
skyr  out  of  the  felde".  Cp.  Mac- 
beth, v.  3.  35,  "skirr  the  country 
round". 

spirt  (iii.  5.  8).  sprout,  germi- 
nate. In  modern  English  only 
used  of  liquids.  But  the  word, 


often  spelt  spurt,  is  a  metathesis 
of  sprout,  from  M.E.  spruten  or 
iprutten,  to  sprout,  O.E.  spryttan, 
to  cause  to  sprout. 

spital  (ii.  i.  65;  v.  i.  73).  hos- 
pital. M.  E.  spitel  from  O.  F. 
ospital,  hospital  (for  the  loss  of 
the  first  syllable,  cp.  sport  from 
disport,  spite  from  despite),  <  Low 
Lat.  hospitale,  a  large  house, 
formed  from  Lat.  hospitalia,  apart- 
ments for  strangers,  <  hospes,  a  host 
or  guest. 

strossers  (iii.  7.  50),  trowsers. 
The  word  strossers  is  found  else- 
where, as  in  Dekker's  Gul's  Horn- 
book, "the  Italian's  close  strosser". 
Perhaps  strossers  is  for  '  trossers ', 
and  this,  a  variant  of  our  word 
'trowsers'  which  comes  (with  the 
final  r  wrongly  inserted)  from 
M.  E.  trouses,  Fr.  trousses,  breeches, 
plural  of  trousse,  a  bundle  or  case 
(which  gives  us  truss,  trousseau), 
from  O.  F.  trusser,  to  pack,  Low 
Lat.  *tortiarc,  to  twist,  from  Lat. 
past  part,  tortus,  twisted. 

sworn  brothers  (ii.  i.  n).  In 
Richard  II.,  v.  i.  20,  the  phrase 
is  used  metaphorically — 

"  I  am  s»om  brother,  sweet. 
To  prim  Necessity  " 

Whalley  thus  accounts  for  the 
phrase — "In  the  time  of  adven- 
ture, it  was  usual  for  two  Chiefs 
to  bind  themselves  to  share  in 
each  other's  fortune,  and  divide 
their  acquisitions  between  them. 
So  in  the  Conqueror's  expedition, 
Robert  de  Oily  and  Roger  de 
Ivery  were  fratres  jurati:  and 
Robert  gave  one  of  the  honours 
he  received  to  his  sworn  brother, 
Roger  ". 

tucket  (iii.  6.  106.  stage-dir.), 
a  trumpet  signal  which  "com- 
mands nothing  but  marching  after 
the  leader"  (Markham).  The 
word  is  from  the  Ital.  toccata,  a  pre- 
liminary flourish  on  any  musical 
instrument 


GLOSSARY. 


varlet  (iv.  2.  2),  page,  groom. 
From  O.F.  varlet,  a  groom,  youth, 
candidate  for  knighthood,  for  vas- 
iet,  <  Low  Lat.  vassalettus,  a  dim. 
of  Low  Lat.  vassallus  (whence 
vassal),  an  extended  form  of  Low 
Lat.  vassus,  a  servant,  formed 
from  a  Celtic  word  corresponding 
to  the  Breton  gwaz,  a  servant. 
The  form  varlet  became  in  later 
Fr.  valet.  The  history  of  varlet 
(now  used  only  in  the  sense  '  des- 
picable person  ')  shows  how  a 
word  may  rise  and  fall  in  moral 
significance. 

vasty  (i.  P.  12;  ii.  2.  123;  ii. 
4.  105),  vast.  This  form  of  the 
word  is  frequent  in  Shakespeare. 
Cp.  /  Henry  IV.,  Hi.  i.  52  —  "I 
can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty 
deep  ".  Vasty  is  probably  a  for- 
mation from  vast  used  as  a  sub- 
stantive (  cp.  heady,  i.  i.  34  ; 
womby,  ii.  4.  124),  Lat.  vastus, 
vast. 

vaward  (iv.  3.  130),  vanguard. 
Used  metaphorically  in  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream,  iv.  i,  no, 
"the  vaward  of  the  day".  The 
word  is  a  form  of  vanward,  M.E. 
•uantwarde  <  O.  F.  avant-warde, 
later  avant-garde,  the  vanguard 
of  an  army.  The  F.  avant,  before, 
comes  from  Lat.  ab,  from,  ante, 
before;  the  O.F.  warde,  from  a 
German  word,  cognate  with  the 
O.E.  weard,  a  defender,  and  its 
derivative,  the  modern  E.  ward. 
The  O.F.  warde  became  garde  in 
accordance  with  the  law  by  which 
initial  w  in  words  borrowed  from 
the  German  regularly  became  gu 
and  g  in  French.  Cp.  Glossary, 


void  (iv.  7.  53),  to  leave  empty. 
Cp.  Chaucer,  Clerkes  Tale(E  806): 

"Be  strong  of  herte,  and  royde  anon  hir 
place". 

From  M.  E.  voiden,  to  empty, 
voide,  adj.,  empty,  O.  F.  wide 
(giving  Mod.  F.  vide).  Apparently 
not  from  Lat.  viduus,  but  from 


late  L.*  vocitum,  connected  with 
Lat.  vacuus,  empty.  (See  Mayhew 
and  Skeat's  Diet,  of  M.  £.) 

whiffler  (v.  P.  12).  Whiffler,  ;r 
senses  (i)  and  (2)  apparently  from 
whiffle,  to  blow  in  gusts  like  the 
wind,  seems  to  have  been  used  in 
three  different  senses:  (i)  a  fickle, 
trifling  person;  (2)  a  player  on  the 
fife  (perhaps  also  on  other  instru- 
ments); (3)  one  who  heads  a  pro- 
cession to  clear  the  way,  in  which 
senseit  ismetaphoricallyusedhere. 
As  an  example  of  the  second 
meaning,  which  seems  least  well 
supported,  cp.  Cooper's  Annals 
of  Cambridge,  iii.  82,  where  a  set 
of  verses  describing  James  I.'s 
visits  to  Oxford  and  Cambridge  in 
1615  contains  the  lines — 

"  Oxford  had  good  Comedies,  but  not  such 

benefactours, 

For  Cambridge  Byshopps  winners  had  (i.t. 
had  bishops  as  whimers)  and  Preachers 
for  their  actors'*. 

The  bishops  and  preachers  of 
Cambridge  are  contrasted  with 
the  whifflers  and  actors  of  Oxford. 
Cooper  explains  '  whiflers '  here  as 
'  players  on  the  flute':  at  any  rate, 
musicians  of  some  sort  are  meant. 
The  third  meaning  may  be  de- 
rived from  the  second,  as  Douce 
suggests,  or  from  some  weapon 
brandished  or  waved  by  '  whifflers ' 
for  clearing  the  way.  The 'whifflers' 
who  headed  the  processions  of  the 
corporation  of  Norwich  (Forby, 
Vocabulary  of  East  Anglia),  bore 
"swords  of  lath  or  latten,  which 
they  keep  in  perpetual  motion ", 
and  Mr.  Wright  quotes  from  Way's 
Prompter ium  Parvulorum,  p.  26, 
"Wyfle,  wepene,  ...  Bipennis". 
(Bipennis  —  axe.)  The  word  is 
discussed  in  Nares'  Glossary,  and 
by  various  correspondents  in  Notes 
and  Queries,  series  iv.,  vol.  xii. 

whiles  (i.  2.  108;  iv.  3.  66).  The 
adverbial  genitive  expressing  time 
(cp.  Ger.  nachts,  by  night)  of  the 
subst.  while,  O.  E.  hwil,  time  (from 


254 


KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 


the  ciat.  plur.  of  which,  hwilum, 
at  times,  we  have  the  half-obsolete 
word  whilom  —  formerly).  Whiles 
came  to  be  pronounced  with  a  final 
-/.  and  so  became  the  modern 
whilst.  The  same  change  is  seen 
in  against,  lest  (O.  E.  ongeanes,  las}. 

wink  in  i.  6;  iii.  7. 132;  v.  2. 284), 
to  shut  the  eyes.  Cp.  I'enus  and 
Adonis,  lai — 

"And  I  shall  wink,  so  shall  the  day  seem 
night" 

From  M.E.  winken^.E..  wine  tan, 
to  wink. 

WOtB  (iv.  i  266),  knows.  Wot 
corresponds  to  the  O.K.  wdt,  ori- 
ginally the  past  tense  of  wttan,  to 
know,  but  used  as  a  present,  a 
new  past  tense.w; iste,  being  formed. 
Wot  being  properly  a  past  tense, 
should  not  take  an  s  in  the  third 
pers.  sing.,  and  so  in  Chaucer  we 
find  "God  woof  (AYr.  Tale,  28) 


Shakespeare  treats  it  as  a  true 
present  He  uses  also  the  verb 
to  wit,  but  only  in  the  pres.  int. 
and  gerund  (i.  2.  50)  and  pres. 
part  witting  (O.  E.  witende).  He 
does  not  use  the  past  tense,  wist, 
which  occurs  in  the  Bible  of  1611 
(St.  Luke,  ii.  49,  "Wist  ye  not...?") 

yearn  (ii.  a.  3 ;  iv.  3.  26),  grieve. 
This  is  the  only  sense  of  the  word 
in  Shakespeare.  The  verb  is  some- 
times impersonal,  as  in  iv.  -3.  26. 
Prof.  Skeat  considers  it  a  different 
word  from  our  yearn,  to  desire 
(O.E.  gyrnan);  Mr.  Bradley  con- 
siders it  the  same  word. 

yerk  (iv.  7  74),  jerk.  Cotgrave 
in  his  French  Dictionary  gives 
'  yerke '  as  an  equivalent  to  '  ruer 
des  fteds  ,  to  kick,  and  '  yerk  or 
jerke'  as  equivalents  lo/ouetter,  to 
whip  The  etymology  is  obscure. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS. 


a',  ii.  3.  10;  iii.  2.  30. 

abate,  iii.  2.  26;  iv.  4.  47. 

abridgement,  v.  P.  44. 

absolute,  iii.  7.  24. 

abuse,  iv.  8.  45. 

abutting,  i.  P.  21. 

accent  (second),  ii.  4.  126. 

accept,  v.  2.  82. 

accomplishing,  iv.  P.  12. 

accord,  ii.  2.  86. 

achieve,  iv.  3.  91. 

achieved,  iii.  3.  8. 

addiction,  L  I.  57. 

addition,  v.  2.  138. 

addrest,  iii.  3.  58. 

admiration,  ii.  2.  108;  iv.  I.  66. 

admire,  iii.  6.  117. 

admit,  v.  P.  3. 

advance,  v.  2.  333. 

advantage,  iii.  6.  1 12. 

advantageable,  v.  2.  88. 

advantages,  iv.  I.  268;  iv.  3.  50. 

advised,  i.  2.  179. 

affiance,  ii.  2.  127. 

all -admiring,  i.  I.  39. 

all-watched,  iv.  P.  38. 

a  many,  iii.    I    69;   iv.  I.  117; 

iv.  3.  95;  iv.  7.  79. 
an,  ii.  I.  92;  ii.  4.  120;  iii.  5.  2. 
annoy,  ii.  2.  102. 
another,  i.  2.  113. 
answer,  ii.  4.  3;  iv.  I.  147. 
antics,  iii.  2.  28. 
any,  iii.  6.  10. 
apart,  ii.  4.  78;  iii.  7.  35. 
appear,  ii.  2.  57;  ii.  3.  57. 
appearing,  iii.  P.  23. 
apprehension,  iii.  7.  126. 
apt,  ii.  2.  80;  v.  2.  171. 
arbitrement,  iv.  I.  151. 


argument,  iii.   I.  21 ;  iii.  7.  32; 

iv.  i.  36. 
armed,  iv.  7.  74. 
a  sand,  iv.  I.  94. 
assays,  i.  2.  151. 
astonished,  v.  i.  35. 
atone,  v.  2.  185. 
attends,  ii.  4.  29. 
attest,  iii.  i.  22. 
avaunt,  iii.  2.  18. 
avouch,  v.  I.  65. 
avouchment,  iv.  8.  34. 

balls,  v.  2.  17. 

balm,  iv.  I.  244. 

bands,  Ep.  9. 

banner,  iv.  8.  76. 

bar,  v.  2.  27. 

barbarous,  i.  2.  271. 

barley-broth,  iii.  5.  19. 

basilisks,  v.  2.  17. 

battle,  iv.  P.  9;  iv.  2.  54;  ir.  3. 2. 

beaver,  iv.  2.  44. 

bedlam,  v.  i.  17. 

belly,  iv.  8.  58. 

beseeched,  iii.  2.  98. 

besmirched,  iv.  3.  HO. 

bestow,  iv.  3.  68. 

better,  ii.  2.  25. 

binding,  Ep.  2. 

blood,  ii.  2.  133. 

bloodily,  iv.  6.  14. 

book,  iv.  7.  67. 

boot,  i.  2.  194. 

bottoms,  iii.  P.  12. 

boulted,  ii.  2.  127. 

brass,  iv.  3.  97. 

brave,  iii.  P.  5. 

bravely,  iv.  3.  69. 

break,  v.  2.  233. 


256 


KING    HENRY    Till.    FIFTH. 


breath,  ii.  4.  14$. 
bring,  "•  3-  I. 
broached,  v.  P.  32. 
broken,  v.  2.  231. 
brook,  v.  P.  44. 
bubukles,  iii.  6.  95. 
bulTet,  v.  2.  138. 
bulwark,  iv.  I.  155. 
buxom,  iii.  6.  24. 

capital,  v.  2.  96. 
captived,  ii.  4.  55. 
careful,  iv.  I.  215. 
carrions,  iv.  2.  39. 
case,  iii.  2.  3. 
casques,  i.  P.  13. 
caveto,  ii.  3.  49. 
ceremonies,  iv.  i.  101. 
charge,  i.  2.  15. 
charitably,  iv.  I.  135. 
cheerly,  ii.  2.  192. 
choler,  iv.  7.  169. 
cholers,  iv.  7.  31. 
christom,  ii.  3.  II. 
cockpit,  i.  P.  II. 
coming  on,  iii.  7.  137. 
command,  iii.  3.  29. 
compassing,  iv.  I.  278. 
complexion,  ii.  2.  72. 
compound,  iv.  6.  33. 
con,  iii.  6.  71. 

condition,  v.  i.  70;  v.  2.  272. 
condole,  ii.  I.  117. 
confounded,  iii.  i.  13. 
congreeted,  v.  2,  31. 
conjecture,  iv.  P.  i. 
conjuration,  i.  2.  29. 
conquering,  i.  2.  182. 
consent,  i.  2.  181;  ii.  2.  22. 
consideration,  i.  I.  28. 
consign,  v.  2.  90. 
consign  to,  v.  2.  283. 
constant,  ii.  2.  5,  133. 
contaminate,  iv.  5.  16. 
contrived,  iv.  I.  153. 
correct,  i.  2.  191. 
corroborate,  ii.  I.  114. 
coulter,  v.  2.  46. 
couple  a  gorge,  ii.  I.  62. 


craft,  iii.  6.  135. 
craven,  iv.  7.  124. 
creeping,  iv.  P.  2. 
crescive,  i.  I.  66. 
crowding,  i.  2.  200. 
cruelly,  v.  2.  194. 
cullions,  iii.  2.  iS. 
currance,  i.  I.  34. 
cursorary,  v.  2.  77. 
curtains,  iv.  2.  41. 
curtle-axe,  iv.  2.  21. 
curtsy  to,  v.  2.  256. 

dear,  ii.  2.  l8l;  v.  2.  331. 

decoct,  iii.  5.  20. 

defeat,  i.  2.  107. 

defensible,  iii.  3.  50. 

define,  iv.  P.  46. 

defunction,  i.  2.  58. 

defused,  v.  2.  61. 

deracinate,  v.  2.  47. 

desperate  of,  iv.  2.  39. 

discovered,  ii.  2.  151. 

discuss,  iii.  2.  54;  iv.  i.  37;  iv. 

4-  5- 

disposed,  iv.  P.  51. 
distemper,  ii.  2.  54- 
distressful,  iv.  I.  254. 
doting,  ii.  I.  53. 
dout,  iv.  2.  II. 
drowsy,  iv.  I.  22. 
dub,  ii.  2.  1 20. 

earnest,  ii.  2.  169;  v.  I.  57. 
eche,  iii.  P.  35. 
egregious,  ii.  I.  39;  iv.  4.  II. 
elder,  v.  2.  218. 
elder-gun,  iv.  i.  186. 
element,  iv.  I.  99. 
embattled,  iv.  2.  14. 
empery,  i.  2.  226. 
endeavour,  v.  2.  73. 
enforced,  iv.  7.  56. 
England,  ii.  4.  9. 
englutted,  iv.  3.  83. 
enlarge,  ii.  2.  40. 
enow,  iv.    I.  209;  iv.   : 

3.  20;  iv.  5.  19. 
enrounded,  iv.  P.  36. 


INDEX   OF   WORDS. 


257 


entertain,  i.  2.  in. 
entrails,  iii.  7.  13. 
estate,  iv.  i.  93. 
even,  ii.  2.  3. 
evenly,  ii.  4.  91. 
exampled,  i.  2.  156. 
exception,  ii.  4.  34. 
exceptions,  iv.  2.  25. 
excuse,  v.  P.  3. 
executors,  i.  2.  203;  iv.  2.  51* 
exhale,  ii.  I.  54. 
expedience,  iv.  3.  "JO. 

faced,  iv.  I.  247. 

faces,  iii.  7.  76. 

faintly,  iv.  2.  44. 

familiar,  i.  I.  47. 

fashion,  i.  2.  14. 

fatal,  ii.  4.  13. 

fat-brained,  iiu  7.  124. 

fault,  ii.  P.  20. 

favour,  iv.  7.  161;  v.  2.  63. 

feared,  i.  2.  155. 

fearful,  ii.  P.  27. 

ferret,  v.  4.  28. 

fester,  iv,  3.  88. 

fet,  iii.  i.  1 8. 

figo,  iii.  6.  54;  iv.  I.  60. 

figures,  iv.  7.  29. 

find,  i.  2.  72. 

fined,  iv.  7.  63. 

firk,  iv.  4.  28. 

fits,  ii.  4.  ii. 

flesh'd,  ii.  4.  50;  iii.  3.  n. 

flexure,  iv.  I.  239. 

flower-de-luce,  v.  2.  200. 

foils,  iv.  P.  50. 

follows,  v.  2.  259. 

footed,  ii.  4.  143. 

fore-rank,  v.  2.  97. 

foul,  iv.  P.  4. 

fox,  iv.  4.  9. 

fracted,  ii.  I.  114. 

freely,  i.  2.  238. 

fret,  iv.  7.  73. 

fright,  v.  2.  217. 

gage,  iv.  7.  114. 
galled,  ii.  2.  121 ;  iii.  I.  12.  . 
CM  178) 


galling,  i.  2.  151. 

galls,  ii.  2.  30. 

gamester,  iiL  6.  104. 

garb,  v.  I.  68. 

garnished,  ii.  2.  134. 

gentle,  iv.  P.  45 ;  iv.  3.  63 ;  iv. 

3.  122;  iv.  5.  15. 
gentles,  i.  P.  8;  ii.  P.  35. 
gesture,  iv.  P.  25. 
girded,  iii.  P.  27. 
given  me,  iv.  8.  39. 
gleaned,  i.  2.  151. 
gleeking,  v.  I.  66. 
glose,  i.  2.  40. 
good-bye,  iv.  3.  6;  v.  I.  60. 
grace,  i.  2.  242;  iii.  3.  30. 
grazing,  iv.  3.  105. 
green,  v.  I.  38. 
greener,  ii.  4.  136. 
greenly,  v.  2.  140. 
griefs,  v.  2.  20. 
gross,  ii,  2.  103. 
grosser,  iii.  I.  24. 
grossly,  ii.  2.  107. 
grows,  ii.  2.  22. 
guilt,  iv.  3.  no. 
gull,  iii.  6.  64. 
gun-stones,  i.  2.  282. 

habit,  iii.  6.  106. 
haply,  v.  2.  93. 
haunted,  ii.  4.  52. 
havoc,  i.  2.  173. 
hazard,  iii.  7.  79. 
heart,  iv.  4.  67. 
heavy,  iii.  3.  32. 
heroical,  ii.  4.  59. 
his,  iii.  I.  17. 
hold,  i.  2.  89. 
hold-fast,  ii.  3.  48. 
hooded,  iii.  7.  IO2. 
hoofs,  ii.  2.  108. 
humorous,  ii.  4.  28. 
humour,  iii.  2.  4. 
husbandry,  iv.  I.  J. 
huswife,  v.  i.  72. 

ill-office,  v.  2.  342. 
imaginary,  i.  P.  18. 


25S 


KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH 


imagined,  in.  P.  I. 
impawn,  i.  2.  21. 
impeachment,  iii.  6.  133. 
impounded,  i.  2.  160. 
in  brass,  iv.  3.  97. 
incision  (make),  iv.  2.  9. 
indirectly,  ii.  4.  94. 
indued,  ii.  2.  139. 
ingrateful,  ii.  2.  95. 
inhcad,  ii.  2.  18. 
inly,  iv.  P.  24, 
in  reason,  iv.  I.  106. 
instance,  ii.  2.  119. 
insteeped,  iv.  6.  12. 
intendement,  i.  2.  144. 
intertissued,  iv.  I.  246. 
irreconciled,  iv.  I.  45. 
issue,  iv.  6.  34. 

Jack-an-apes,  v.  2.  139. 
Jack-Sauce,  iv.  7.  131. 
jealousy,  ii.  2.  126. 
just,  iii.  7.  136. 
jutty,  iii.  i.  13. 

lack,  iii.  I.  21;  iv.  2.  23. 

lady,  ii.  I.  30. 

landing,  iv.  6.  8. 

largess,  iv.  P.  43. 

leash,  i.  P.  7. 

legerity,  iv.  I.  23. 

let,  v.  2.  65. 

libertine,  i.  I.  48. 

lief,  iii.  7.  55. 

like,  i.  I.  3;  ii.  2.  183. 

likelihood,  v.  P.  29. 

likes,  iii.  P.  32;  iv.  I.  16 ;  iv.  3. 

77-. 
line,  ii.  4.  85. 

linger,  ii.  P.  31. 

linstock,  iii.  P.  33. 

list,  i.  i.  43 ;  v.  2.  257. 

lodging,  iii.  7.  30;  iv.  I.  16. 

look,  ii.  4.  49. 

ll|gfiage,  iv.  4.  71. 

luxury,  iii.  5.  6. 

mace,  iv.  i.  245. 
majestical,  iv.  i.  251. 


make  forth,  ii.  4.  5. 

marches,  i.  2.  140. 

marry,  iii.  2.  94;  iii.  6.  86;  iii. 

6.  92. 

masters,  ii.  4.  137. 
mean,  iv.  P.  45. 
measure,  v.  2.  133. 
member,  iv.  I.  265. 
memorable,  ii.  4,  88. 
mercenary,  iv.  7.  70 ;  iv.  8.  82. 
mettle,  iii.  I.  27. 
mind,  iv.  3.  13;  v.  2.  233. 
minding,  iv.  1'.  53. 
model,  ii.  P.  1 6. 
moiety,  v.  2.  205. 
motive,  ii.  2.  156. 
mountain,  ii.  4,  57. 
moved,  iii.  2.  19. 
moy,  iv.  4.  13. 
muffler,  iii.  6.  29. 
muse,  i.  P.  I. 
music  (broken),  v.  2.  231. 

nasty,  ii.  I.  43. 
native,  iv.  i.  158. 
neighbourhood,  v.  2.  332. 
nice,  v.  2.  256. 

odds,  ii.  4.  129. 
o'erblows,  iii.  3.  31. 
o'erwhelm,  iii.  I.  II. 
office,  v.  2.  29. 
on  heaps,  iv.  5.  18;  v.  2.  39. 
ooze,  i.  2.  164. 
opened,  i.  I.  78. 
ordinances,  ii.  4.  83. 
orisons,  ii.  2.  53. 
outwear,  iv.  2.  63. 
over,  iii.  7.  1 14. 
overlook,  iii.  5.  9. 
over-lusty,  iv.  P.  18. 

paction,  v.  2.  348. 
painful,  iv.  3.  ill. 
pales,  v.  P.  10. 
paly,  iv.  P.  8. 
paper,  ii.  2.  74. 
parle,  iii.  3.  2. 
parted,  ii.  3.  II. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS. 


259 


particular,  iii.  7.  43. 

parts,  iv.  7.  in. 

pass,  ii.  P.  38. 

passages,  iii.  6.  86. 

pauca,  ii.  I.  70. 

pax,  iii.  6.  37. 

pearl,  iv.  I.  246. 

peer,  iv.  7.  79. 

peevish,  iii.  7.  123. 

pennons,  iii.  5-  49- 

perdurable,  iv.  5.  7. 

perdy,  ii.  I.  42. 

perpend,  iv.  4.  8. 

perspectively,  v.  2.  302. 

piece  out,  i.  P.  23. 

pith,  iii.  P.  21. 

placed,  iii.  7.  109. 

plainsong,  iii.  2.  4. 

play,  iv.  P.  19. 

pleasant,  i.  2.  259,  281. 

popular,  iv.  I.  38. 

popularity,  i.  I.  59. 

poring,  iv.  P.  2. 

port,  i.  P.  6. 

portage,  iii.  I.  10. 

possess,  iv.  i.  106,  274. 

powdering-tub,  ii.  I.  66. 

powers,  iii.  3.  46. 

prabbles,  iv.  8.  60. 

practices,  ii.  2.  90;  ii.  2.  144. 

praeclarissimus,  v.  2.  320. 

precepts,  iii.  3.  26. 

preposterously,  ii.  2.  112. 

prerogatifes,  iv.  I.  67. 

prescript,  iii.  7.  42. 

present,  ii.  I.  97.  . 

presently,  ii.   I.   79;   iii.  2.  49; 

v.  2.  79. 

proclaimed,  ii.  2.  168. 
proportion,  ii.  2.  109;  iii.  6.  Il8. 
purchase,  iii.  2.  38. 
'  put  up ',  v.  2.  37. 

quality,  v.  2.  19. 
qualmish,  v.  i.  19. 
question,  i.  1.5;  iii.  2.  107. 
quick,  ii.  2.  79. 
quit,  ii.  2.  166;  iv.  I.  112. 
quittance,  ii.  2.  34. 


quondam,  ii.  I.  69. 
quotidian,  ii.  I.  108. 

ragged,  iv.  P.  50. 

rawly,  iv.  I.  134. 

reading,  i.  2.  14. 

reduce,  v.  2.  63. 

religiously,  i.  2.  10. 

relish,  iv.  I.  105. 

remembering,  v.  P.  43. 

rendezvous,  ii.  I.  15;  v.  I.  75- 

renowned,  i.  2.  118. 

repent,  ii.  2.  152. 

requiring,  ii.  4.  99. 

respect,  v.  i.  64. 

retire,  iv.  3.  86. 

return,  iii.  3.  46. 

rheumatic,  ii.  3.  35. 

rim,  iv.  4.  14. 

rivage,  iii.  P.  14. 

road,  i.  2.  138. 

robustious,  iii.  7-  137- 

roping,  iii.  5.  23. 

round,  iv.  I.  190. 

rub,  ii.  2.  188;  v.  2.  33. 

rule,  i.  2.  188. 

sa',  iii.  2.  100. 

sack,  ii.  3.  25. 

sad,  i.  2.  102. 

sat,  ii.  2.  4. 

savagery,  v.  2.  47. 

's  blood,  iv.  8.  8. 

scaffold,  i.  P.  4. 

scambling,  i.  I.  4;  v.  2.  196. 

scions,  iii.  5.  7. 

seals,  iv.  I.  154. 

seat,  i.  I.  88;  i.  2.  269. 

second  accent,  ii.  4.  126. 

security,  ii.  .2.  44. 

severals,  i.  I.  86. 

shog,  ii.  I.  38. 

shook,  v.  2.  174. 

shows,  i.  2.   72;  ii.  2.  127;  iv. 

I.  99. 

shrewdly,  iii.  7.  44,  141. 
sick,  ii.  4.  22. 
signs  of  war,  ii.  2.  192. 
sirrah,  iv.  7.  134. 


260 


KING    HENRY  THE   FIFTH. 


sits,  ii.  2.  12. 

slips,  iii.  I.  31. 

slobbery,  iii.  5.  13. 

slovcnry,  iv.  3.  114. 

snatchers,  i.  2.  143. 

solus  ii.  I.  3&. 

sooth,  iii.  6.  133. 

sort,  iv.  7.  126;  iv.  8.  60. 

sorts,  iv.  I.  63. 

speculation,  iv.  2.  31. 

spirit,  iii.  I.  16;  iii.  5.  8. 

spirited,  iii.  5.  21. 

spirituality,  i.  2.  132. 

spital,  ii.  I.  65. 

spoiled,  iv.  5.  17. 

starts,  Ep.  4. 

stcrnage,  iii.  P.  18. 

still,  i.  2.  145;  iii.  7.  90;  iv.  I. 

286. 

stilly,  iv.  P.  5. 

stomachs,  iii.  7.  143 ;  iv.  3.  35. 
stood  on,  iii.  6.  70. 
straight,  iii.  7.  50. 
strain,  ii.  4.  51. 
suddenly,  v.  2.  8l. 
sufferance,  ii.  2.  159. 
suggest,  ii.  2.  114. 
sumless,  i.  2.  165. 
supply,  i.  P.  31. 
suttler,  ii.  I.  101. 
swasher,  iii.  2.  2  . 
swaying,  i.  I.  73- 
swelling,  i.  P.  4. 
swill'd,  iii.  I.  14. 

take,  ii.  I.  4$;  iv.  I.  202,  205; 

iv.  7.  119. 
tall,  ii.  i.  59. 
Tartar,  ii.  2.  123. 
tempered,  ii.  2.  117. 
tender,  ii.  2.  175. 
tenour,  v.  2.  72. 
threaden,  iii.  P.  10. 
thrust  in,  v.  2.  344. 
tide,  v.  2.  292. 


tike,  ii.  I.  26. 
too  much,  ii.  4.  53. 
touch,  iv.  P.  47. 
touched,  iv.  7.  169. 
trophy,  v.  P.  21. 
troth,  iv.  I.  113. 
troth-plight,  ii.  I.  8. 
trumpet,  iv.  2.  6l. 
try,  iv.  i.  151. 
tway,  iii.  2.  107. 

uncoined,  v.  2.  150. 
undid,  v.  2.  132. 
unfurnished,  i.  2.  148. 
untempering,  v.  2.  214. 
urn,  i.  2.  228. 
use,  iii.  2.  115. 

varlet,  iv.  2.  2. 
vary,  iii.  7.  30. 
vaulting,  v.  2.  135. 
veins,  ii.  3.  4. 
verify,  iii.  2.  63. 
vigil,  iv.  3.  45. 
voice,  ii.  2.  113. 

watchful,  iv.  P.  23. 

wear,  v.  2.  221. 

weary,  iv.  P.  38. 

weight,  iii.  6.  1 20. 

well-a-day,  ii.  I.  30. 

well-appointed,  iii.  P.  4. 

whistle,  iii.  P.  9. 

white-livered,  iii.  2.  29. 

wink,  ii.  I.  6. 

winking,  iii.  7.  132. 

withal,  i.  I.  8l ;  iii.  5.  2;  iv.  7. 

115;  v.  2.  227. 
wives,  v.  P.  1O. 
working-day,  iv.  3.  107. 
wots,  iv.  i.  266. 
would,  v.  2.  68. 

yearns,  iv.  3.  26. 

yet,  iii.  3.  I. 

yoke-fellows,  ii.  3.  5 ;  iv.  6.  9. 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


accent,  second,  ii.  4.  126. 

active  infinitive,  dative  of,  or  gerund;  i.  2.  36;  i.  2.  280;  ii.  2.  38; 

iv.  2.  32. 
adjectives,  formed  in  en,  iii.  P.  20. 

,,          position  of,  L  2.  66;  i.  2.  196. 

,,          place  of  possessive,  iv.  6.  22 ;  iv.  7.  104. 
adverbs,  fondness  of  English  for  added,  iv.  5.  20;  iv.  6.  20. 
adverbs  as  adjectives,  iv.  I.  141;  iv.  I.  161. 
alliteration,  ii.  3.  4;  iii.  P.  20;  iii.  I.  14. 
"all  my  mother",  iv.  6.  31. 
Alps,  iii.  5.  52. 
anachronism,  v.  2.  199. 
"Arthur's  bosom",  ii.  3.  9. 
article,  repetition  of,  iii.  5.  13;  iv.  i.  186;  iv.  3.  86. 

„       use  of  indefinite,  iii.  7.  3. 
"at  all  adventures",  iv.  I.  112. 
"  at  the  turning  o'  the  tide  ",  ii.  3.  12. 
audience,  Elizabethan,  i.  P.  8. 
Barbason,  ii.  I.  47. 

Bardolph's  nose,  ii.  I.  74;  iii.  2.  29;  iii.  6.  95. 
Bartholomew-tide,  v.  2.  292. 
bowls,  reference  to  game  of,  ii.  2.  188. 
"bred  out",  iii.  5.  29. 
Brutus,  the  Roman,  ii.  4.  37. 
Cadwallader,  v.  I.  25. 
Callice,  for  Calais,  iii.  3.  56. 
"  carry  coals  ",  iii.  2.  42. 
change  of  construction,  iv.  3.  35,  36. 
chorus,  in  Elizabethan  drama,  i.  P. ;  ii.  P. 
Coleridge,  reading  suggested  by,  iv.  3.  38. 

conjugation,  use  of  periphrastic,  ii.  2.  3,  30,  76,  77,  177;  iv.  P.  15. 
conjunctions,  ii.  2.  132;  iv.  I.  219. 
costume,  in  England,  iv.  7.  42. 
' '  couple  a  gorge  ",  ii.  1 .  62. 
Cressy,  references  to,  iv.  7.  88;  v.  I.  64. 
Crispian,  iv.  3.  40;  iv.  7.  85. 
"  dare  the  field  ",  iv.  2.  36. 
dative  ethic,  iii.  6.  67. 
Dauphin,  i.  2.  221. 
devil,  a  gentleman,  iv.  7.  128. 
Doll  Tearsheet,  ii.  i.  68. 


26a  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

drama,  the  English  and  Greek,  ii.  I  init. 

til,  use  of  participial  suffix,  ii.  4.  26. 

Kdwarcl,  the  Black  Prince,  L  2.  105. 

elements,  the,  iii.  7.  20. 

ellipsis,  i.  I.  57. 

empire,  England  considered  an,  iv.  I.  245. 

empress,  applied  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  v.  P.  30. 

en,  retained  in  participle,  iv.  6.  18. 

Falstaff,  reference  to  King's  treatment  of,  iv.  7.  42. 

"fare  thee  well",  iv.  3.  126. 

"  fate  of  him  ",  ii.  4.  64. 

France,  ii.  P.  20. 

genitive,  use  of  objective,  i.  2.  224;  ii.  P.  3;  ii.  2.  43;  ii.  2.  46. 

,,       use  of  preposition  instead  of  inflexional,  ii.  4.  50,  64. 
"go  about  to",  iv.  i.  187. 
God  before,  i.  2.  307;  iii.  6.  147. 
Gordian  knot,  i.  I.  46. 
"go  to",  ii.  i.  71. 
grace,  use  of  title,  i.  I.  53. 
Harflew,  iii.  P.  17. 

have  and  be,  use  of,  ii.  P.  34;  ii.  3.  41;  iii.  6.  76;  iv.  3.  2. 
"hawking",  reference  to,  iv.  I.  103. 
Henry  V.,  character  of,  i.  2. 
Hermes,  iii.  7.  17. 
Hey  wood,  ii.  i.  86. 
his  for  its,  i.  I.  37;  for  s',  i.  2.  88. 
Holinshed's  Chronicle,  references  to,  i.  I.  I;  i.  I.  74;  i.  I.  76;  i.  2.  74» 

i.  2.  77;  i.  2.  94;  i.  2.  108;  i.  2.  166;  i.  2.  255;  i.  2.  258;  ii.  2. 

8;  ii.  2.  IO;  ii.  2.  157;  ii.  4.  54;  ii.  4.  102;  ii.  4.  126;  ii.  4.  140; 

iii.  P.  4;  iii.  2.  50;  iii.  3.  44;  iii.  5  init.;  iii.  5.  40;  iii.  5.  64; 

iii.  6.  i;  iii.  6.  131;  iii.  7.  116;  iii.  7.  145;  iv.  I.  74;  iv.  I.  279; 

iv.  2.  60;  iv.  3.  3;  iv.  3.  4;  iv.  3.  16;  iv.  3.  2O;  iv.  3.  79;  iv.  7. 

';  iy-  7-  57;  'v-  7  60;  iv.  7.  144;  iv.  8.  74;  iv.  8.  93;  iv.  8.  98; 

iv.  8.  100;  iv.  8.  116;  v.  P.  19;  v.  P.  21;  v.  P.  25;  v.  2.  320; 

v.  2.  348. 
Hydra,  L  I.  35. 
"  in  best  sort",  v.  P.  25. 
"indifferently  well",  ii.  I.  48. 
"in  fair  terms",  ii.  I.  51,  56. 
infinitive,  omission  of,  iv.  2.  32. 

,,        without  to,  ii.  4.  103;  iii.  7.  83;  iv.  5.  18. 
"in  their  battle  set",  iv.  3.  69. 
"in  the  trim  ",  iv.  3.  115. 
irony,  dramatic,  iv.  I.  113. 
leek,  wearing  of,  iv.  I.  54;  iv.  7.  88. 
living,  mode  of,  in  England,  iii.  7.  138. 
"  lose  so  much  complexion  ",  ii.  2.  72. 
Mars,  i.  P.  6. 
massacre  of  innocents,  iii.  3.  40. 


GENERAL  INDEX.  263 

Meisen,  i.  2.  53. 

Monjoy,  iii.  6.  129. 

Monmouth  caps,  iv.  7.  93. 

Montaigne's  tssays,  i.  I.  60. 

mute,  Turkish,  i.  2.  232. 

negation,  by  simple  tense,  ii.  2.  20.  4 

negative,  double,  i.  i.  35;  ii.  2.  23;  ii.  4.  17;  ii.  4.  85;  iii.  6.  156; 

iii.  7.  92;  iv.  I.  97;  v.  2.  141. 
"  offer  nothing  here  ",  ii.  I.  32. 
"  out  of  fashion  ",  iv.  L  8l. 
Parca's,  v.  I.  18. 

participle  past,  from  past  tense,  i.  2.  154;  iv.  3.  2. 
,,  Latin  form,  ii.  2.  31. 

,,  forms  of,  iii.  6.  76. 

past  tense,  forms  of,  iii.  7.  36;  iv.  6.  21. 

,,          use  of,  for  present  complete,  iv.  7.  49. 
personification,  iv.  P.  ii. 
"pitch  and  pay",  ii.  3.  45. 
plural  verb,  with  sing,  subject,  v.  2.  19. 
prepositions,  use  of:  between,  v.  2.  197; — -for,  i.  2.  114,  146;  iii.  2. 

2^;— from,  i.  2.  272;  iii.  6.  8l;  iv.  7.  127;  v.   P.  22; — /«,  i.  2. 

169;  ii.  4.  121; — of,  \.  2.  67;  ii.  I.  108;  ii.  2.  145;  iii.  3.  25; 

iii.  3.  28;  iii.  6.  75;  iii.  7.  9; — on,  i.  i.  7;  iv.  5.  1 8  ;—out  of, 

iii.  7.  141;  iv.  i.  20;  iv.  I.  105;—  to,  i.  2.  67;  ii.  I.  ii,  80;  ii. 

2.  143;  iii.  P.  30;  iii.  7.  54,  59; — toward,  iv.  8.  3; — unto,  ii.  2. 

90;  iv.  8.  13; — upon,  i.  I.  91;  iii.  I.  32;  iv.  I.  132; — with,  L 

2.  10,  32;  ii.  i.  73;  iii.  P.  ii;  iii.  I.  14. 
prolepsis,  i.  2.  284-5. 

pronoun,  old  dative  form,  iv.  4.  22;  iv.  6.  21. 
pronoun,  reflexive  use  of,  i.  2.  93,  275,  292;  ii.  2.  77,  120,  177;  iv. 

6.  3;  iv.  8.  59. 
proverbs,  v.  2.  221. 
punctuation,  iii.  I.  34;  v.  P.  10. 

puns,  ii.  P.  26;  iii.  2.  46;  iii.  7.  16;  iv.  1. 185,  210;  v.  I.  35;  v.  2.  128. 
question  by  simple  tense,  ii.  2.  15. 
redundancy,  i.    I.  87;  i.   2.  247; — that,  i.    I.  26;  ii.  4.  14,  141;  v. 

P.  17;  v.  2.  34,  46. 
relative,  omission  of,  i.  2.  263. 
Roan  =  Rouen,  iii.  5-  54- 
Saluting,  mode  of,  v.  2.  3. 
Scriptural  allusions,  ii.  2.  33,  39,  40,  121,  124;  ii.  3.  50;  ii.  4.  102; 

iii.  3.  26,  40;  iii.  7.  60;  iv.  i.  287:  iv.  7.  56. 
Singular  verb,  with  plur.  subj.,  i.  I.  27;  ii.  4.  I;  iv.  P.  3. 
Soldiers,  payment  of,  i.  I.  13. 
"  spend  their  mouth",  ii.  4.  70. 
Staines,  ii.  3.  2. 

subjunctive,  indicative  used  for,  v.  2.  194. 
Suffolk,  Earl  of,  iv.  6.  10. 
Talbot,  iv.  3.  54. 


264  KING    HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 

tautology,  ii.  2.  87,  88. 

tennis,  terms  used  in,  i.  2.  261. 

textual  notes,  i.  P.  9;  i.  I.  49;  i.  2.  94,  163,  173,  175,  197,  212;  i. 

2.  233;  ii.  P.  32;  ii.  I.  22,  63,  70,  71,  73,  117;  ii.  2.  75,  114, 

'39.  '76;  i>-  3-  «5,  23;  ii.  4.  80,  107,  117,  120;  iii.  P.  6,  16; 

iii.  I.  7,  32;  iii.  2.  25,  55;  iii.  3.  35;  iii.  5.  46;  iii.  6.  29,  66; 

iv.  P.  1 6,  26,  27;  iv.  i.  65,  91,  138,  1 68,  217,  229,  237,  274; 

iv.  2.  I,  2,  43,  60;  iv.  3.  6,  ii,  44,  48,  104,  105,  130;  iv.  4.  4, 

14;  iv.  5.  II,  15,  16,  18;  iv.  6.  34;  iv.  8.  93,  94,  98,  Il6;  T. 

P.  29;  v.  i.  43,  63,  73;  v.  2.  7,  12,  54,  61,  77,  82,  304,  313. 
verb,  omission  of,  ii.  2.  12;  iv.  i.  27. 
versification,  v.  P.  6;  ii.  4.  99;  iii.  5.  ii. 
vulgarism,  ii.  3.  7. 
words,  use  of:  may,  ii.  I.  48;  ii.  2.  loo,  IO2;  iv.  I.  12; — might,  iv. 

5.  21 ;  ourself,  i.  2.  270; — shall,  i.  2.  141;  ii.  2.  2; — should,  v. 

P.  \\-that,  i.  i.  47;  L  2.  153;  iv.  P.  6,  41;— thy,  ii.  i.  36. 


•ircttn 


i 


PR  2762  ,A7  1917  C.2  SMC 

Shakespeare/  William 
Five  histories